Outside the seemingly heavy blackwood doors of the Red Fox Bar stood two sharp-eyed men in formal suits and top hats.
Though they too carried canes, Sifa knew they were not customers, but security guards or hired muscle.
Sifa stepped down from the carriage, generously taking out fifty percent more than the usual fare and placing it in the coachman's hand. He told him to return in two hours to pick him up.
While Sifa did this, the two men at the bar's entrance never once took their eyes off his newly bought, conspicuously bulging leather wallet.
The two men not only played the role of thugs, but also served as "sieves."
They used their extensive experience and sharp eyes to assess every customer.
If someone was not the sort of patron the bar catered to, they would usually "politely" ask them to leave.
When Sifa reached the entrance, one of the men smiled and opened the door for him.
Clearly, Sifa was exactly the kind of customer the bar welcomed most.
As soon as he entered, Sifa caught the scent of perfume.
The place was lively without being noisy. Gentlemen and ladies either sat in corners or gathered around round tables.
They chatted or engaged in a little physical intimacy, but all with some restraint, never making too much noise.
There was even a band playing in the bar. Such an atmosphere seemed especially precious after the war.
It also showed that unrest had little effect on those with wealth and power.
Sifa walked to the counter, sat on a high stool, and took a gold coin from his wallet.
It was part of the loot he had taken from the Rose School headquarters in the Star Highlands.
Sifa had rubbed off its design, making it look like an