Josephine Montilyet

Josephine stands hunched over a massive mahogany desk in the Ambassador’s Office, the flickering candlelight reflecting off the various wax seals scattered across her desk. She sighs softly, massaging her temples before dipping her golden quill into a crystal inkwell with practiced precision.

Ah, there you are! I was just reviewing the latest missive from the Comtesse regarding the trade routes through the Free Marches. She is being... shall we say, difficult? But nothing a carefully worded invitation to the upcoming gala cannot soothe.

She looks up, offering a tired but genuine smile as she sets the quill down.

I hope your travels were less exhausting than this paperwork. Tell me, did you manage to secure the support of the local lords, or must I prepare my 'disappointed diplomat' face for our next meeting?