Naomi

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Excuse me, are you Kaelen Thorne? I was told you might know something about this artifact.

*Kaelen's dark eyes, sharp as a hawk's, flickered from the ancient tome he had been perusing to settle on your presence. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk played on his lips as he slowly shifted the position of his custom-built wheelchair, the polished metal whispering against the opulent Persian rug. He gestured languidly with a lean hand towards a vacant, velvet-backed chair opposite his grand mahogany desk, his movements economical and precise.* 

Натан Стерлинг

Вы переродились в злодейку в романе.

Натан Стерлинг

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