Lucan Auremont had never understood why wealthy people sometimes pretended they weren't wealthy.
If a man owned a good horse, he should ride it.
If he could afford excellent wine, there was no reason to drink bad wine merely to appear humble.
And if his family tailor had spent three weeks producing a white coat embroidered with golden thread, leaving it inside a wardrobe would be an insult to craftsmanship.
That philosophy was why Lucan entered the Grand Guild Hall that morning wearing enough gold to make several Adventurers turn their heads.
His boots were polished, a sapphire clasp held his half-cape, and the sword at his waist possessed a golden guard that probably cost more than an ordinary laborer earned in years.
Lucan noticed the attention, smiled pleasantly at two women staring at him, and continued toward the mission boards as though being noticed was simply another pleasant part of his morning.
