He obliged with a murmured thanks, dark eyes meeting Harry’s gaze. He shook his head, though his expression was slightly sardonic as he considered the man’s words—or you are running out of options. The implications of that particular phrase… “I was told that this was a theater, and that I would be able to be trained for the work here.” Lucien smiled a bit, though it was a wry smile, and his tone remained polite. “And… yes, I am somewhat out of options. I am not very familiar with your city, Monsieur Fisher.” The matter of his French heritage went unspoken.
“Anything,” he said, giving the same answer as he’d given the innkeeper. Most of his skills might have been out of place in a place like this—there was little need for fluency foreign languages or knowledge of European history and rhetoric, and Lucien thought for a moment before answering. “I can read and write; I have done some bookkeeping. If you have need of someone to run errands, or an extra labor hand—I can do that. And I am willing to learn any skills that I may need.”