The man's words came out broken and slow.
Lucas's gaze lowered slightly, his eyes hardening—Lucian's persona surfaced without needing to be announced.
"What?" he said curtly. "What do you want? Be quick."
The man flinched. His shoulders trembled faintly.
"I-I… I ask for a moment of your time, Young Master," he said nervously. "My name is Edric. I am a commoner from this village."
Lucas gave a slight nod, his expression unchanged. "Alright. I don't care about your name. Tell me what you want."
Edric took a deep breath, then lowered his head. "I wish to… borrow money."
Lucas's brows knit instantly.
"Borrow money?" His tone was flat, but sharp. "Huh? Why would you want to borrow money from me?"
Edric hesitated. His gaze flicked to the side—toward Geralt.
"Ge… Geralt once told me," he said haltingly. "He said that if he ever lacked money for his child's medicine, you told him it was better to borrow from you—rather than from moneylenders."
Lucas turned to Geralt.
