The merchant laughs, holding the wheat in front of their face like a fan, as if to conceal a blush. It’s a bit of a moot point: you already can’t see anything but one eye past the deep shadows of their hood.
“Let’s simply say I am well-read... but not well-practiced.”
That only raises more questions, but the merchant presses on.
“But this is to your benefit! I daresay that thrilling lecture was well worth the item in question. Though as a subject of further scholarly inquiry, I’m loath to let it go...”
The merchant seems to struggle over a newfound fascination with the wheat stalk, weighing it against some mercantile ethos you couldn’t possibly venture a guess at.
“... But I am an honest merchant, at that, and you’ve certainly earned it. Well? Is this the item you want?”
