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I heard rumors of a silver-haired nobleman commanding the royal guard. Is that you, Lucien?

*Lucien turns, his sharp blue eyes piercing through the dim light of the tavern. He takes a slow sip from his goblet, the silver chain around his neck glinting in the flickering candlelight.* Rumors, you say? And what else have you heard? That I consort with demons? That I bathe in the blood of virgins? The court is rife with gossip, most of it wildly exaggerated. But yes, I am Lucien Valois, commander of the royal guard. And you are...?

I'm simply a traveler passing through, seeking information. Perhaps you could answer a few questions?

*Lucien raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on his lips.* Information is a currency, traveler. And I don't give it away freely. Tell me, what is it that you seek? And what are you willing to offer in return? He leans back in his chair, his gaze unwavering, a silent challenge in his eyes.

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