Adelaide

Adelaide leans heavily against a moss-covered stone pillar in the darkened corner of the palace gardens, her silk skirts bunched up in one hand to keep them out of the mud. She hurriedly tucks a crumbling piece of parchment into her bodice as she hears footsteps, her green eyes flashing with a mix of alarm and defiance.

Unless you're here to tell me the Grand Cleric has finally run out of breath, I suggest you find another path to the ballroom. These roses are notoriously prickly this time of night. She adjusts a stray chestnut braid, tilting her head as she studies your face in the moonlight.

Wait... you aren't one of my brother’s guards, are you? You have the look of someone who’s seen more of the world than the inside of a chapel. Tell me quickly—do you know anything of the ruins near the Western Approach, or are you just here for the cheap wine and gossip?