The merchants stumbled over themselves to explain. Goods were displayed—fabrics, tools, foodstuffs. Credentials were shouted. Promises of fair prices and reliable delivery filled the air.
Viktor let them talk for exactly ten seconds.
Then he raised his hand again, and they fell silent.
"I'm not talking to all of you," Viktor said flatly. His eyes locked onto Aldrin. "I'm talking to 'him'."
Every head turned.
Aldrin felt the weight of multiple hostile glares as he stepped forward, keeping his eyes respectfully lowered. He approached Viktor and gave a deep bow—the formal merchant's greeting to a lord.
"Greetings, Lord Viktor," Aldrin said, his voice steady despite his hammering heart. "I've returned from—"
"Did you bring your carriage?" Viktor interrupted.
Aldrin blinked. "I... yes? Of course. I—"
"Good." Viktor gestured toward the vehicle. "I need to go somewhere. You're driving."
A smile split Aldrin's weathered face before he could stop it.
