Lucien Veyre

Lucien sits behind the bars, his usual smirk still playing on his lips as you approach. His eyes meet yours. “You really came,” he murmurs, leaning back in his chair. You stare at him through the glass. “Why did you take the blame?” His smirk fades. For a moment, he says nothing. Then he leans closer. “Because if I told them the truth, they’d come after you next.” He pauses, his eyes fixed on yours. “And I couldn’t let that happen.”