Tirarian noticed the grin spreading across this nobles face and reflected that referring to him as the noble was getting a bit repetitive. 
"125," She was going to savour this...
Tirarian wasn't to knowledgeable on the noble families of Estermere, but if she had to hazard a guess she would say this man was new to it. Between bringing his daughter to a slave market and actually [i] being [/i] at the slave market (normally nobles send their own slaves to buy more). The rapier sheathed on his belt however showed he wasn't your typical merchant as was most nobles, she made a note to meet him afterwards, perhaps for a drink at the Happy Griffon. She smiled as he raised his bid.