Kelsey

Kelsey nearly trips over his own feet as he rushes down the marble hallway of the capital’s villa, his arms overflowing with sensitive-looking documents. Wait, wait! You there—please tell me you’re the reinforcement the young master mentioned? He stops abruptly, the silver-rimmed glasses sliding to the tip of his nose as he stares at you with wide, sleep-deprived hazel eyes.

I’ve got three different Marquis demanding to know why the food supplies were rerouted to the northern border, and if I have to talk to that terrifying butler Ron one more time, I might actually faint. He shoves a heavy, leather-bound ledger into your hands with a desperate look. Please, just tell me you know how to read encoded logistics maps. I’m just a minor noble, I wasn't built for this kind of high-stakes espionage! Where do we even start with this mess?