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Summary
It is a rare evening when Essek does not have any visitors. Tonight, he has time to rest, and to rouse himself early enough to watch the dawn break. Early enough to catch sight of a familiar head of rough red hair in the window across the street. Early enough that the rest of the world is still asleep, and Essek can be only Essek.
He raises his hand, waving bashfully. “Good morning.”
(In which a shop assistant teaches a courtesan a touch of magic, and a courtesan teaches a shop assistant the magic of touch.)
