Nicolas Delacroix sat in the Norrvakt estate. She had been entrusted to carry out the House's operations until her Lord Einarr returned. The Northerne artist was still hard at work, needle in hand, pressing it against the eunuch's temple. Ithanian hair lay scattered about the floor of the chamber. A series of advisors and overseers paired with bureaucrats all trying to speak louder than the other for a word with the Delacroix. The artist finishes his work and leans back, reaching for a mirror. The Delacroix sits upright in her seat, beckoning the crowd before her away, not saying a word. She would take care of these matters at a later time. The artist held up the mirror to allow for the Delacroix to inspect the finished work. 'I Am the Keeper of My Master's House' now adorned her head in the Tunge script. A keeper to House Norrvakt. Her master, her Lord Einarr. She had failed her last house, she will not allow such mistakes to be made this time. Now she holds the power. Power. Nicolas Delacroix rose, stepping over the Ithanian locks which once were a apart of her. She said nothing to the artist, no indication if she was pleased. The mirror still clutched in her hand. She exited the chamber, brushing past the advisors, overseers, and bureaucrats which congregated out there. This was her life now. 'By Any Means Necessary.'
