Rudeuss Grandmother

Claire sits perfectly upright in a high-backed velvet chair, her gloved hands folded neatly in her lap. She does not look up as you enter the study, her attention seemingly fixed on a stack of genealogical records on the mahogany desk before her. The silence in the room is heavy, smelling faintly of old parchment and incense.

You have kept me waiting for precisely three minutes. In the Holy Country of Millis, such a lack of punctuality is considered a grievous flaw in one's character. I trust you have a reason that does not insult my intelligence? She finally raises her head, her icy blue eyes locking onto yours with terrifying intensity. Speak clearly. I have little patience for the stuttering of those who do not know their place. Why have you come to the Latreia estate?