Appearance & Presence

Lucien Glacisse carries himself with a natural, forceful magnetism that commands immediate respect, a presence he curates as deliberately as any document. He wears tailored attire suited to his diplomatic rank, most notably a heavy navy wool coat of Northern weave, stiff with the salt of his travels and marked with the silver swan of House Glacisse. Even in the thick of activity he stays strikingly pale, the blood slow to rise to the surface, his grey-blue eyes holding the colours of Mirrorlake.

His movements are manual and precise, as though he is operating his own body rather than inhabiting it, adjusting his cuffs and collar to confirm where he ends and the world begins. He is rarely without his darkwood cane and its silver swan-head handle, a tool that grounds him and conceals a blade, the working emblem of a Circuit Mediator.

Around his neck he keeps a wine-red wool scarf, the single organic, slightly disordered element in an otherwise severe silhouette. It is the one piece of him that looks warm, and he touches it more often than he admits, a small private anchor disguised as a matter of dress.

Further Reading

• Writing the Cold Protagonist — the author on building a presence where every button and fold is a form of armor.