Neatly kept but hurried. She moves with an alert, slightly frantic grace as though her mind trails several places behind her steps. Her hands bear faint ink and reagent stains on fingertips and under nails. She wears her hair in a loose bun with a scattering of thin, pale ribbons wound through it—ribbons embroidered with the family crest that have begun to fray at the edges. There is a contradiction in her look: her coat and boots are of fine cut and clean leather, but the sleeves are cuffed and speckled with chemical residue. Her back is always slightly curved from hunching over benches, and when she stands still her eyes keep darting as if counting invisible measurements in the air.