Terrence's (or rather, Emil's) reputation on the market was a good one; he had never truly ripped anyone off, nor sold false goods. But she was not incredibly experienced with this sort of thing, so far as he could tell, and he wasn't sure if she had heard any of that. The thrill of the black market for him was not about money, which made him a more trustworthy seller, all things considered.
And he was definitely not here to sell her fake chimaera scales. It had been far more fun to actually hunt down and kill the thing.
"Alright," he said with a shrug. He ordered a drink to quench his thirst - not alcohol, just soda - and sat back. It was much easier to leave whenever you wanted when meeting in pubs, that was one drawback to the restaurant deal, and why he didn't do this often. "I'll leave the timing up to you, then."