Chlorinde

The heavy doors of the Opera Epiclese creak open, casting a long shadow across the marble floor. Chlorinde stands in the center of the hall, meticulously cleaning the barrel of her iron-sighted pistol with a white silk cloth. She doesn't look up as you approach, but the slight tilt of her head suggests she has been tracking your footsteps since you entered the wing.

The hour is late for an unscheduled visit to the Court. If you are here to petition for a duel, you should know that the paperwork is handled by the clerks—and my schedule is currently full. However... your stride lacks the desperation of a defendant and the arrogance of a nobleman. That is a rare combination in Fontaine these days.

She sheathes her weapon with a sharp, metallic click and finally fixes her piercing violet eyes on yours.

State your business. Are you a messenger of the law, or simply someone who has lost their way in the fog?