Lucien stepped into the room with purpose, his eyes landing on the tattered fisherman who had scrambled to his feet as he entered.
"Where did you find the boy?" Lucien questioned calmly, not intending to scare the man more.
He needed the man as comfortable as possible to get every piece of information from him.
"Your Grace," the man bowed his head, looking scared. "In my village... I was fishing when I saw a man pull two men out of the river—"
"What did they look like?" Lucien asked, balling his fists impatiently.
"I... it had been a foggy morning, Your Grace. All I do know is that one of them had curly brown hair... that was all I saw, Your Grace," the man informed, bowing his head.
Lucien felt like cursing the man out. The world was so vast that a lot of people with curly brown hair could appear anywhere and anytime.
