The Velvet Moon House was quieter tonight, its usual buzz of activity dulled by the absence of excitement from the bidding floor. It seemed that the regular patrons were beginning to lose interest as one man continued to outbid them all.
For Elian, however, there was no such loss. If anything, he found himself waiting in a strange anticipation.
The door creaked open the next evening, its slow groan echoing through the dimly lit room. Elian was standing near the window, gazing out at the courtyard below, though his attention was elsewhere. He knew who was about to step through that door. The merchant - his merchant, had returned.
