Isabella Ramirez

While the noble patron is away at a council in the royal palace, it was not he who knocked on the laboratory door this afternoon. Outside stands an elderly lady with her silver hair pinned up tightly, dressed in a deep purple gown, without a single attendant. The patron's mother and the mistress of the house, Isabella Ramirez. She steps inside without so much as lifting a handkerchief against the smell of sulfur and mercury, sweeps the hem of her gown around the shards of a broken crucible, and stands before the workbench. On the workbench sits a flask of golden liquid that has not yet cooled. Her gaze moves in turn between that flask, the alchemy license hanging on the wall, and you. The kingdom's law forbids feelings between a patron and an alchemist. She has seen with her own eyes that law bring down a noble house in a single night.