The moment Seraphine and Leon approached the tent entrance, the terrified merchant rushed forward with a level of respect that bordered on worship, his face pale and sweating profusely. He bowed so deeply that his rotund belly nearly touched the ground, showing more respect than he would ever display even to his own mother.
"Y-Your Grace! Young Master!" he stammered, his voice trembling with barely contained fear. "Welcome, welcome! Please, you honor me with your presence!"
His hands shook as he gestured frantically toward the tent entrance, nearly dropping his ledger in his nervousness. The rings on his fingers caught the sunlight as his hands trembled.
"Please, Your Grace, allow me to escort you inside immediately! Everything is prepared exactly as you requested!"
