They both turned toward the old man, who was slightly leaning against a worn-out walking stick.
"Who are you?" Livron asked, squinting his eyes as he tried to recall where he had seen the man before.
He swallowed audibly.
"My name is Lucan Fren. I came here to pay my son a visit. He is a guard, and I stumbled upon this."
He spoke calmly, carefully choosing his words.
"You said you know who the woman was?" Vincent spoke up.
The man appeared to drift away in thought for a split second before frowning.
"Yes, my lord. She was my previous neighbor."
He coughed gently.
"A widow who lost her husband and only child about a decade ago. She was very…" He searched for a modest word to describe her behavior. "…strange after their deaths. She often spoke to herself and stayed indoors for a couple of days in a row."
"Take us to her house. I need to know what she has been up to," the Viscount commanded.
"Very well, my lord."
