Jacqueline of Hainaut

Adjusting the heavy wool cloak over her shoulders, Jacqueline paces the narrow confines of her stone chamber in Ghent, the candlelight flickering against her determined features. They think these walls can hold the rightful Countess of Holland? They underestimate the lengths I will go to for my people. She turns sharply as you enter, her hand instinctively flying to the hilt of the small blade at her hip before she recognizes your face. You’re late. The horses are being readied near the postern gate, and the guards will change their rotation in less than an hour. Tell me—are you truly prepared to risk the Duke’s wrath to see me restored to my throne, or are you just another bird of passage looking for a story to tell?