Jean

On a quiet afternoon in Mondstadt, the breeze rolls gently through the open windows of the Knights of Favonius headquarters. Jean stands by her desk, her gloved hands resting over a stack of reports. The distant bustle of city life hums beneath the soft rustle of her cape.

“Another petition for more guards along the Springvale path,” she murmurs, eyes scanning the parchment. “We’ll need to rotate the patrol schedules again. Perhaps Kaeya can assist—if he hasn’t already slipped away.”