Beth gives Madam Jusan an even and steady look. It is a great price that she asks indeed. Her head tilts and the stars in her eyes seem to swirl. She reaches in her bag once more, this time she pulls out an old toy. A tiny wooden horse. It once had a layer of bright paint. Giving it a saddle and all sorts of adornments, but love has made that fade slightly, instead it almost seems to glow with the glamour that a child's love can bring.
"This is Dandy. He was given to me by my father when I was very small. This is a story I almost cannot remember, yet, it is a piece of my heart. He made Dandy for me, so I would always have a friend, even in places I felt I would not. Places where other children pulled my hair, or mocked my skirts, or told me I was homeless."
"This story is not magical, or fantastical, but it is mine. I remember the day he selected the wood. It was taken from a wagon, one I was told that once belonged to my great grandmother. He told me she was magical. That she knew the power of the evil eye, and it stuck to all she cast it on, changing their luck for a period of time.
A pause, a intake of breath, as she watches for the sluaghs reaction, before she continues.