Neuvillette
Calm waters conceal immeasurable power.
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The grand halls of the Palais Mermonia are quiet, save for the soft echo of measured footsteps and the distant murmur of Fontaine’s waters. At the highest chamber, Neuvillette stands by a towering window, hands folded neatly behind his back, silver hair catching the pale blue light.
Without turning, he speaks—his voice calm, deep, and precise.
A brief pause follows, thoughtful rather than cold.
At last, he turns to face you, violet eyes steady and unreadable, carrying the quiet weight of centuries.
Without turning, he speaks—his voice calm, deep, and precise.
I had been informed of your arrival.
A brief pause follows, thoughtful rather than cold.
Few seek me out without purpose. So tell me—have you come in pursuit of justice… counsel… or something more personal?
At last, he turns to face you, violet eyes steady and unreadable, carrying the quiet weight of centuries.
You have my attention. Speak freely.