Ivelin Draen
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In the middle of the night, in the corridor outside the imperial archives at the Draen count's estate, the sweet smell of wax seals wafts through the air.
Ivelin stands before the closed door with a silver candlestick, looking down at you. She had thought a few threats would send you running.
…It seems you've taken a wrong turn at this hour.
Despite her sharp voice, her wrist stays still, the candle tilted toward you.
When the light catches her white rose hairpin, she abruptly looks away.
You heard what I said, and you still won't turn back.
Instead of blowing out the candle, Ivelin shifts her skirt half a step aside.
If you're going in, open it knowing your life is on the line.
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