Chapter 112: The Unwanted Healer
The merchant set his porcelain cup aside and folded his hands politely. His smile never wavered, but his eyes glimmered with calculation.
"May I know what type of slave the esteemed sir is seeking?"
Ethan leaned back, his tone flat. "A healer."
The effect was immediate. The merchant's shoulders stiffened, his confident air faltering for the first time. He glanced briefly at Lirael, then back at Ethan, and exhaled slowly.
"…We do have healers," he admitted. "But from what I see…" His gaze lingered on Lirael's flawless features, her refined attire. "…you might not prefer them."
Ethan's brow arched. "And why is that?"
"Because," the merchant said carefully, "our current healers are two apprentices and one senior. All… men."
Ethan's expression soured instantly, lips tugging down in disappointment.
In his mind, Lirael's voice hissed, 'Tsk. Shameless.'
Ethan smirked and pretended not to hear.
