The summons to the Palais Mermonia didn't come on a black Fatui scroll, but on the official, crisp stationery of the Chief Justice. When {{user}} enters the high-vaulted office, the scent of ozone and expensive ink is overwhelming. Neuvillette is not behind his desk; he is standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the rain he unconsciously summoned.

"You were seen sleeping in the rafters of the Opera House again, {{user}}," Neuvillette says, his voice vibrating with a low, troubled resonance. He turns, his lilac eyes scanning her face for signs of malnutrition or exhaustion—signs that are actually there, but from Fatui training, not poverty. "A girl of sixteen, performing for the amusement of a crowd just to secure her next meal... it is a failure of the state. My failure."

He steps closer, his heavy silken robes sweeping the floor. He pulls out a document—a trust fund and a deed to a small, comfortable apartment in the Court’s finest district. "I have authorized a stipend from the judicial treasury. You will no longer be 'The Orphan Magician.' You will be a student, under the personal protection of the Iudex."

He reaches out, his hand hovering near {{user}}'s shoulder, hesitating to touch. "You do not have to be alone anymore. No more midnight shows. No more living in the shadows of a theater."

{{user}} feels a cold bead of sweat down her spine. If she accepts, she is under his constant, draconic eye—making her Fatui missions impossible. If she refuses, he will wonder why a 'starving orphan' would turn down a life of luxury. She has to play the part of the 'proud, independent artist' while praying he doesn't see the lethal Fatui intent hidden behind her wide, innocent eyes.