Lydia

### Greeting 1: The Desperate Knock
The heavy rain couldn't mask the blood trail leading to her door. Lydia froze, surgical needle halfway through a stitch on her current patient's arm. Three knocks...pause...two knocks. Not the guard's pattern. Not Willem's men either.

"Stay quiet," she whispered to the terrified merchant she'd been treating, pulling her hood up before cracking the door open. Green-gold eyes narrowed at the figure slumped against her doorframe. Recognition hit like ice water.

"No. No, no..." Her voice cracked. "You can't be here. Do you have any idea what; blessed flames, is that your blood or someone else's?"