He caught the arch of her brow, giving the slightest of nods in acknowledgment. He was well-aware that they bent by this point, which most likely meant either copper coated in gold, or …

Or their money problems were solved for a time, for the measly cost of crossing lines that ought never be crossed. For laying to bed the Aslan that was, and waking up the Nisa-like mirror that thrived, writhed and cajoled each time he was faced with even the mildest of trying decisions.

Fortunately for Bess, the house of cards that was Aslan’s self-respect tumbling down anew made no sight nor sound – just a vague disturbance in the air, like a smell that could have been a fart but may just as likely have been a breeze over the gutters drifting in.

“Congratulations,” Aslan said. “I’m glad your family is doing well. My sister has been showing more interest in courting, speaking of families. If you know any gentlemen who would be--…”

There was the slightest of tenseness at the corners of his mouth, and a brief pause.

“-- Gentlemen, in every sense of the word, toward a beautiful young woman, she is twenty-two, incredibly tidy, and excelled in finishing school.”

Someone to live in her shop to guard it alone. A bachelor, he assumed.

“I know a few who fit the description. Do you have a preference for Christian men?”