rabastan had never cared about the customer service aspect of his job, in fact, heâd been known to go out of his way to avoid being polite towards the patrons of the apothecary. it was a wonder he hadnât been fired, but perhaps he was just that talented of a potioneer. yet, he couldnât help but regret his method of delivering the warning to the father. or maybe he could just tell how angry the older male seemed to be, and he wanted to avoid an altercation. but whatever the reason, he apologized.
âiâm sorry- itâs just store policy that children have to be accompanied by adults,â rabastan explained, pausing to think over his choice in words. âwe donât want any accidental ingestion of potions,â he added, this time accompanied by a nervous laugh. âyour son seems smart, iâm sure he knows better,â he continued, before adding âiâll go check on the rose oil.â having brought their conversation to a rather abrupt end, rabastan quickly ducked behind the curtain, scowling at an amused coworker as he moved to check the stock.Â
it didnât take long for rabastan to locate the rose oil, but he took his time returning to the front of the store. he was in no real hurry to come face to face with the older male, though he knew he had to do it sooner or later. âwe only had one vial,â he explained, setting it down on the counter. âand i couldnât help but notice this isnât the first time youâve been in,â he continued, surprising even himself for remembering such a detail. âhave you thought about placing an order? that way we can make sure to have plenty in stock-â
Adonis softened, a bit, at Rabastanâs apology. While he didnât know exactly what the other man was playing at, he did know that many people didnât trust children. It was fair, although Marcus had always been more behaved than most. âLike I said, he wonât go out of my sight. I promise.â Even as he said the words, his son always stayed within eye distance, eyes scanning row after row of flowers. A part of him wondered if Marcus would grow up with a passion for potioneering, like his uncle. A part of him wondered why heâd held back for so long on seeing the merits in this business. Adonis felt guilty that he hadnât seen it until he needed it. Until he relied on it.Â
âThank you,â he said, watching as the man disappeared behind the curtain, and he turned around to watch Marcus, who was running up to him with a flower. It looked like an Iris, but Adonis had never been quite sure. The return of his voice voice shook Adonis from his thoughts, though, and he returned to the counter, a bit shocked that the other man recognized him. âOh... yes, Iâve been having some, um, health issues,â he said, managing a small toothless smile. Adonis barely knew the shop-keeper, after all, and he wasnât about to scare him off with a flash of his fangs.Â
âNo one has recommended that to me before,â he said, with a shake of his head. âYou think they would, because like I said Iâve--â And he was cut off by Marcus, who was standing on his tip-toes holding up the flower just so that it would show above the counter. His little voice rang out asking Rabastan what type of flower it was, and Adonis couldnât help but smile fondly. âWell, it seems I spoke too soon on the whole, he wonât touch anything part,â he said, raising a brow at his son who smiled, sheepishly. Quickly, though, Adonis looked at the man. âIâd like to place an order and, well, if you wouldnât mind? I think heâs been looking to make one of the beginnerâs potions.â