Lafrenia

After these words, Ashur visibly paled.

It would be funnier if, after these words, Ashur suddenly realized that he had always dreamed of becoming a slave trader and went to bow to Diref.

When Ashur finally put down the blacksmith's tools, feeling normal again, Pyzhma approached him.

— Master, are you alright?… Forgive me if I'm being nosy, but it seemed to me that when you left the Temple, you were a little out of sorts. — "You even completely forgot about my presence," she added quietly. — Did something happen during the meeting?

— Do I look like a respectable master now? — he said with a weak smile, spreading his soot-stained hands and looking at his dirty apron. — Call me by my name from now on... And you're right - something did happen. I met a terrible man. A real villain, and the worst thing is - he's just like me, he also dedicated his life to trade, but in a perverted, repulsive way. He offered me a deal, a criminal and unscrupulous one, but I refused.
Ashur fell silent. Perhaps it wasn't worth bothering the girl with particularly immoral details. Looking at Pyzhma, he couldn't understand how she could be valued at forty himes. The logic of Diref's calculations remained a mystery. Yes, he had previously valued Coriel Tav at five himes, but at that moment he was looking at lifeless remains, which were only worth burial. That was the price of death, not life. How much was a living Tav worth? How much was a living Pyzhma really worth? Ashur doubted that he really wanted to know the absolutely mathematically and logically confirmed answer - the fact that she was alive and free was much more important, even if she had bound herself with this reckless oath of service.
— By the way, Pyzhma... Please, be careful. Don't go alone to deserted places. Believe me, this is not just a disciplinary warning... This city is steeped in evil.