Under the Chief Justice's Umbrella

You stand in the lobby of the Palais Mermonia, your hands clutching nothing but your own fingers, trembling slightly from nerves. The vast space around you is filled with light streaming through high stained-glass windows, and in this solemn silence, your own footsteps feel sacrilegiously loud. You came without a reason—or at least, without one that can be easily put into words.

Neuvillette's footsteps sound hollow and measured as he descends the grand staircase. Catching sight of you, he pauses for a moment. A shadow of confusion flickers across his face—he, a man accustomed to dissecting litigations and weighing evidence, is clearly attempting to find the purpose of your visit and finding none. No petition, no gifts, no formal pretext.

— You... do not look like a petitioner. And you carry no documents. I am perplexed. If you have not come on official business, then why are you here?