“Well, the alternative is you could have nothing at all,” Cang says. He gestures at the empty space. “Your establishment is scarcely crawling with customers.”
Monsieur Montague, looking peeved, replies, “It’s early yet, sir,” but his eyes still track the gentle sway of the heavy necklace in Shyan’s hand.
“Your lust for gold is completely understandable,” Cang says. “Personally, I would rather bathe in a stream than surrender one fifth of the value of this magnificent object.” He sighs. “But a warm bath would itself be a treasure.”
“A treasure, yes,” Montague agrees, drawling lazily, eyes still on the gold. He seems to come to after a moment and straightens his spine. “Very well, friends! Who’s first?”