As the day went on, to Theon's surprise more customers arrived at the marketplace by the twos and threes. Every once in a while there were some families that came by carriage. Children with gap-toothed smiles perched on the edge of their bench ready for sweets. The boldest among them threw their legs over the side while the wheels still turned, their missions only thwarted by stony-faced adults.
In the absence of natural charisma, Theon simply smiled politely or replied succintly to the customers who wandered around his stall. When one patron walked right past, another approached to pose lengthy inquiries and hypotheticals about the quality of his breads.
At some point a mousy haired child whose chin just about reached the top of Theon's table ran up to him. Their small hand pushed two coins across the counter. "I would like, um…" They glanced over their shoulder at their mum, who stood a few steps away bearing an encouraging smile. "A gingerbr—, no. Yes, a gingerbread." A beat passed. "Please."
"Of course," Theon returned. Customers that happened to be children were the same as any other, really. Just usually more polite than their adult counterparts. The delight in their faces from holding a treat made his heart swell too. "Can I interest you in a—what the f—" His arms violently flew into the air as he felt another presence join him behind the counter. First startled, then having the sense to censor himself, he slapped a palm across his mouth. He gave the confused child a sidelong glance. Slowly, his hands fell back to work and placed two servings of gingerbread in a sack. "Here, you can have an extra one for free. Run along now." The child, thoroughly pleased with their loot, scampered back to their mother.
With that settled, Theon dared to look down at the intruder with a deeply concerned expression. "Who are you?" He demanded under his breath.
