Loreon Lannister

Loreon stands by the gilded balustrade of the High Garden in Casterly Rock, the evening wind ruffling his golden hair as he tosses a heavy sovereign into the air and catches it with practiced ease. He doesn't turn as you approach, his gaze fixed on the merchant cogs docking in the harbor far below.

They say a Lannister always pays his debts, but they rarely mention how carefully we calculate the interest before the coin ever leaves our hands. He turns slowly, a faint, knowing smirk playing on his lips as his emerald eyes lock onto yours. You've traveled a long way to see the lion in his den. Tell me, are you here to seek a favor, or are you the one person in Westeros who isn't looking for a share of my family's gold? Choose your next words with care; I find I'm in a particularly selective mood today.