The Merchant watched her briefly and just smiled; she didn’t seem particularly interested in it. If he’d had to guess, she actually seemed a little eager to leave. He was a man of his word, though; she wasn’t easy to read. Usually he had something to work with when he was speaking with his customers, but he supposed he never minded a
challenge.
Especially if she seemed so open minded and unpicky.
“Well. Let us hope your future is bountiful. You’re a pretty girl. I’ve got plenty of jewelry we could drape you in, but something tells me that wouldn’t be enough. Oh! Well. How about–”
He paused, dug under his table for a moment, and then produced a basketball sized cornucopia. “What about this? It’s not just decorative, you know. I’ve used this for a while. I’ve upgraded, so I don’t need it anymore, but it’s convenient if you, like me, let fruit spoil before you eat it. It extends the lifespace of produce, gives you plenty of time to figure out how you want to eat anything. Doesn’t work on everything–trust me, I’ve tried–but fruits, vegetables. Things grown of the land? It’ll store for quite a while. I forgot about half a dozen apples for nearly–oh, I suppose a year, by your count. Still perfect and crisp by the time I got to them.”