"I've heard the Duke's daughter hasn't been well."
The bartender's smirk faltered slightly, his gaze narrowing. "Now that," he said carefully, "is sensitive information. I'd tread lightly if I were you."
Lucavion didn't respond immediately. Instead, he reached into his coat and produced a small pouch, placing it deliberately on the counter. The faint clink of coins inside was unmistakable.
The bartender's eyes flicked to the pouch, his expression unreadable. After a moment's hesitation, he took it and slipped it into his apron with a nod. Leaning in slightly, his voice dropped to a lower register.
"All right, since you're paying…" He glanced around briefly to ensure no one was listening too closely. "Lady Aelianna, the Duke's daughter, has been ill for some time. Rumors say it's not just any sickness, either. It's something… strange. No one's been able to cure her, not even the best healers in the region."