Usually during the morning rush Lelti didn’t get that many customers. People hurrying to run errands before work, if they weren’t just on the Promenade to find breakfast, were usually getting life’s necessities rather than its luxuries: the towel they needed to replace, the oil they’d neglected to refill, that sort of thing. In fact, most people who were eyeing something from her wares decided to do the trip to her shop when it was less crowded.
So when a tall human man with very thick hair walked out of the stream of being flowing steadily outside her windows and into her store, Lelti hastened out from the back, where she’d and her daughters had been eating breakfast themselves, and gave the man a much livelier greeting than he would’ve gotten from many of her fellow Promenade merchants in that hour. She wasn’t sure if she’d seen the man before or not, but that didn’t matter, what did was that she could hear latinum clinking in the bag he carried, and that sounded good and trustworthy.
Even if she didn’t like the sound of his chuckle as much as she liked the sound of the latinum, or when he said, “Well, well, what fine woman do we have here? And did you make all of these beautiful things?”