[ There is a silence, at that. Trevor looks up just for a moment, eyes not quite focusing on Alucard properly, and then lowers his gaze again. The merchant finds his voice again quickly. ]

My assistant is not for sale, sir. Not even to a man such as your master. I trade in thoughts, not in living things. [ He absolutely trades in living things. But he does, at present, have the good sense to not advertise that to Dracula. He has not taken kindly to slavers in the past. ] Even if I did, I would be trading away my entire livelihood. I can hardly be a Silk Merchant without a weaver, can I?

[ Or, more pertinently, a trader of secrets without a fairy to pull them out of people's skulls. ]