55th of Summer, 514 AV The Kenash Auction House It was an odd day when Edmund found himself at the auction house. Since it was on the opposite end of the city of his own business he had little reason to tread anywhere near it, and his own dislike of the people who frequented the dreaded building gave him plenty of reason to avoid it like the plague. Still, circumstances arose that led him to the house's white pillars and stone steps, the familiar building feeling all the more alien for its facade among the rest of the west bank. It was a hot day like all days in Kenash, and Edmund was glad to find shelter from the sweltering rays of sunlight within the auction house despite his dislike for the building. Even though he was not frequent visitor, it was not difficult for him to find where he was supposed to go, for it was the house's only function for society. Indeed, it likely helped the place generate so much revenue. Letting that grim thought go, Edmund continued into the room where he had bid previously. Edmund took his seat in one of the comfortable chairs arranged in an audience, facing the stage and keeping an eye on the entrance for the slaves. Immediately he regretted being here, but there was space for another in the kitchen and Edmund could do with as much profit as he could possibly scrape together. He was loathe to ask his cousins for help, and he did not look forward to their disappointment should he fail to pay back what he owed already. This was without mentioning the sure concern this would bring his sister. So here he was, looking for another cook for his cafe. He only hoped that there would be such an individual here today, for to return empty-handed once more to his business would be a potential loss in profit he could ill-afford. So he waited for the auction to begin, easing into his seat and patiently watching the stage. It struck him as odd that there weren't other bidders already filing in. Wasn't it nearly noon? Unless... A large sigh was let loose in the empty room. How bothersome, Edmund thought, getting up from his seat and returning to the open doorway. Well, I'm here. Might as well avoid turning this into a wasted trip.Exiting the miniature auction room, he explored deeper into the building in the hopes of finding someone to point him toward Marshal Sitai, and fortune smiled in the form of one of the Freeborn hired to help in various capacities. "Excuse me, but where may I find Mister Sitai? Edmund asked her. The Freeborn, in the middle of sweeping the hallway Edmund was walking in, answered not with words but by pointing further down the hallway. "Could you show me the way, please? As she looked up it looked as if the Freeborn were about to tell Edmund to petch off, but her demeanor changed instantly the moment she got a good look of his clothes and, perhaps more importantly, the design sewn into his scarf. "Ah, my apologies, sir," she said at once, bowing slightly. "Yes of course I can, right this way." She led him even deeper into the building, taking turns into parts of the auction house Edmund would never have thought to exist. So far back they went into the building that Edmund began to worry about whether he could make his way out again. He was reluctant to ask Sitai or any of his staff for assistance for worry of being a burden, but at the same time they would likely not appreciate a lost fool bumbling about their building. Eventually, the Freeborn led Edmund to a closed door and turned to face him. "Master Sitai is in here. I hope you find what you're looking for, sir." The woman bowed respectively and Edmund answered with a thankful nod, then she disappeared back into the maze of hallways. Without wishing to delay, the young Morealis knocked twice and waited for the reply. It came shortly thereafter. "Come in," beckoned a surprisingly cheerful voice that Edmund recognized as Marshal Sitai. He opened the door without delay and stepped into the small office, closing the portal behind him and stepping in front of Sitai's desk. He had seen the man's talent when speaking to a crowd, a man well in control of his words in a way that Edmund admired, and he looked forward to seeing how the man handled talking to a single party. Marshal Sitai looked up from the papers on his desk. "What may I help you with today, sir?" he asked earnestly, his eyes falling on the design on Edmund's scarf. "Ah, a Morealis. Here to purchase a slave then?" It was reluctant, but Edmund nodded in response. "That is what I'm here for, yes.," he said, quickly lifting his hands up in a placating gesture. "However, there is no urgent need to show me your... stock yourself. I will be happy to make my selection and come to you for the final transaction." Once finished, Edmund folded his hands behind his back, expecting to be led outside of the room. Marshal Sitai had different plans. "Actually," the auctioneer responded, smiling apologetically, "we prefer it that, when purchasing outside of auctions, we find the slave we think would best suit your needs. The pens are too unclean for someone of your station." "Oh." That was twice now Edmund was wrong about some process of the auction house. It was not exactly a mark of shame, but it would be a lie to say he did not feel somewhat foolish making so many incorrect presumptions on only his second visit. With the misunderstanding cleared, Sitai seemed to have been restored to full cheer. "So, what may I get for you today?" "Ah, I have no need for a very sophisticated slave, I just need someone who is capable of and willing to learn. Less expensive would be preferable." Edmund's eyes traveled around the room as he talked, eventually returning to rest on Sitai. "I'm running short on money, and this is an attempt to regain some profit. Anyone who's capable of kitchen work will do, preferably someone with a little background if cooking. If that is not asking for too much." "Not at all, not at all," Sitai said smilingly as he crossed over to the door. "I actually have someone in mind. Feel free to have a seat while I fetch her." Satisfied his customer wasn't going anywhere, Marshal left the room and headed for the pens below the building. Left alone, Edmund took Marshal's advice and took a seat in the wooden chair before the desk, letting out a long breath while he waited for the auctioneer to return with a slave. I am never coming back here again, he decided. |