Ivliskova Family

The current family matron, Malvra Ivliskova, is a pale and ageless woman with a voice like velvet and eyes like razors. Her smile is famous, and feared, for it often precedes a damning truth delivered with perfect courtesy. Though she rarely leaves the school, her influence is felt across Borca—her words whispered by others, her presence echoed in every perfectly curtsied bow or well-timed silence.

She is said to keep detailed records on every noble in Borca, as well as the lineage, temperament, and weaknesses of their children. Whether this is true or superstition matters little—what matters is that everyone believes it.

To the Borcan public, the Ivliskovas are paragons of noblesse oblige: elegantly dressed, unfailingly polite, and dedicated to the betterment of the unfortunate. Their orphanages are clean, orderly, and austere; their staff well-trained and impeccably mannered. These institutions are seen as lifelines for Borca’s dispossessed—particularly children orphaned by poisonings, duels, or sudden “accidents” so common among the squabbling noble families.

However, these establishments are not havens of warmth. The Ivliskova philosophy views sentiment as weakness and discipline as virtue. The children they raise are groomed to be obedient, watchful, and discreet—whether as servants, clerks, or companions to the nobility. It’s whispered that many of Borca’s most effective secretaries, spies, and confidants once wore Ivliskova grey.

The Ivliskova Finishing School—a grand manor on a windswept hill outside Levkarest—caters only to the elite daughters of Borca’s noble houses. There, young women are trained in etiquette, rhetoric, diplomacy, and the delicate arts of influence. Graduates of the school emerge with poised smiles and sharpened instincts, often stepping into roles as political liaisons, mistresses, or even wives within Borca’s tangled aristocracy.

But beneath the civility lies a reputation for unflinching rigor and psychological grooming. The school is rumored to subtly indoctrinate students into the Ivliskova worldview: loyalty to power, elegance as armor, and emotion as a tool. Alumni rarely speak of their time there in detail—only with a kind of haunted precision in their manners.

The Ivliskovas do not rule through land or war. Instead, they rule through placement. Their former wards and students now serve in dozens of high-profile households—as chamberlains, companions, tutors, and envoys. Through these placements, the family collects secrets, leverage, and favors, which they trade with surgical precision.

They rarely take public sides in Borca’s ongoing tensions between the Boritsi and Dilisnya, but it’s said that both sides court Ivliskova favor—and fear their disapproval. The family’s true loyalties remain inscrutable, though some suspect they are simply loyal to their own rising legacy, above all.

The Ivliskova family is respected, feared, and curiously untouchable. Their orphanages and school place them above reproach, even as they gather influence like spider silk. Nobles may scorn the Boritsi for their poison or the Dilisnya for their pigs—but none speak ill of the Ivliskovas in public. One never knows who might be listening—and who taught them how.