Lord Scalian Delaina is a tall, finely built human whose elegance looks practiced rather than effortless. His slick black hair is combed straight back with a high-gloss pomade, yet one stubborn lock always loosens above his left temple when he becomes angry. A thin scar cuts from the outer corner of his right eye toward the upper cheek, pale and tight against otherwise warm bronze skin. His eyes do not linger on faces. They measure hands, exits, footwear, servants, and who stops speaking when he enters. He moves with a swordsman's economy, never turning his whole body when a shoulder will do. His blue and silver noble suit is beautifully tailored but subtly repaired, with careful stitching beneath one cuff and a faintly worn seam at the waist. The unexpected contradiction is his hands: long-fingered and aristocratic at a glance, but callused across the palms like a dockworker's.