The slave trader's smile widened the moment Morena asked the price.
"Ah, so you do want her. Of course, of course. Three gold."
"Three gold?"
Morena stared at him for a moment, then stood upright, scoffing at the man.
"Do I look stupid?"
The trader's smile stiffened at her words, and he quickly tried to explain himself.
"Miss, she's young, clean enough under the dirt, and quiet. That's not a bad price."
"She's thin, tired, and likely sick from how you've kept her. You already said she isn't strong-looking, and she has no trade that you know of."
"But my lady, with her looks, who needs her for a trade? You can train her to be a useful companion, if that's your taste, my lady."
"My taste is none of your concern. Even with her looks, three gold? Who here would pay you such a price?"
The slave trader's expression shifted slightly, but he kept smiling. It seemed he was used to buyers speaking like this.
"Two gold and fifty silver then."
"One gold."
