"Lucien Vilheart."
When someone murmured that name in a low voice, the atmosphere in the tavern shifted completely.
The candidates and casual customers who had been chatting moments before all lowered their voices unconsciously. Even a few who had been drinking until their faces were flushed turned toward the door, a hint of seriousness creeping into their eyes.
Zich followed their gazes. The young man walking at the front had golden hair and wore a white gold coat. A faint warm smile rested on his face, unlike those that belonged to arrogant young masters.
But precisely because of that, he stood out all the more.
Some people needed loud voices and outward displays of force to remind others of their presence.
However, Lucien didn't. The moment he simply stood there, everyone around him had already taken notice.
