“Certainly,” he agreed readily.

Had Dr. Witaker asked around about an Aslan Koch (particularly around lower-class brothels), he might find him to be a somewhat known entity in those circles. ‘Pays the price for more than he takes’ seemed to be a common theme, with a girl here or there outright theorizing that he might be a man’s man … and a man’s man theorizing his dick is broken since no one’s seen it yet.

“Most of my experience has been in basics – things you can do with supplies from a general store or an ice house. Cleaning scrapes and open wounds, wrapping sprains, herbal teas for settling the stomach and calming pain. Laudanum and other opiates for things that will pass with time. I have some experience with tourniquets and stitches, which seemed to take without complication.”

He looked up to the young woman with tea, studying her face just a second longer than necessary. Did he know her? Did she match any missing reports?

“Thank you,” he said with a polite nod to her.

Whether or not he liked it was irrelevant to him.

“What type of work do you see most regularly in this setting?”