Strolling along beside her, Benedict remains in high spirits, and seems to enjoy talking to and haggling with the merchants. He actually, perhaps surprisingly, appears to know a lot about different fabrics, how this one will react to that treatment or how that one will catch this kind of light-- in the end, the deals they get are solid ones, as he demonstrates someone who can't be fleeced, at least in this department.
As they move on to the next item, he looks pleased as punch, carrying two bolts of their chosen fabric, one in each arm.
Athessa glances sidelong at him, appraising how he seems now compared to...every other time she sees him.
"You sure know a lot about cloth," she says, sounding kind of impressed. But only kind of. "And negotiating."
She doesn't think she has to point out that she would've had to haggle the merchant down from an even bigger markup if Benedict weren't here. Though it comes at the price of people assuming she's his servant.
"My father's a textile merchant," Bene admits, with as much of a shrug as he can manage while holding his cargo, "he took me to auctions sometimes, just to show me what he did. They were boring and loud, and I knew it wouldn't be my future as long as Mother had a say in it, but.
She doesn't hesitate to flash more gaps in her education, but it isn't an intentional attempt to give him silent permission to not be perfect or anything.
She just doesn't care to pretend to be smarter than she is.
"Well, for Riftwatch, it was all about preparing rooms for notable guests. Making sure they were comfortable, had everything they needed, that sort of thing. I decorated the rooms to reflect the importance of the visitors."
Athessa looks at him again, assessing whether or not he's lying. Not about the job description, but about liking it. It doesn't seem like he realizes how servile the position sounds.
A little test, just in case: "What about guests who aren't important?"
"I mean..." He doesn't seem to realize it's a test, but perhaps that's for the better. "Important just means they were invited by Riftwatch. People's personal guests usually stay nearby, or with them in their rooms, or," he waves his hand dismissively. "It's not like someone would be visiting and I'd hear 'oh yeah, put him in the shit room'. They were all nice."
The scoff gets a raised eyebrow, and if she weren't just speaking her mind honestly she might be contrary out of spite when she points at a different gold lantern. "I like that one better."
"Why that one?" Bene asks, looking between them, "this one is the same hue as the embroidery. Look." He unravels a bit of the fabric to hold it next to the lantern and show her.
"They are not the same color," Benedict insists, with a touch of impatience, "and I'm the one in charge of the decorating, so I think it's my decision."
See what happens when he tries to be diplomatic? See??
"Maker's breath they're not the same color!" Benedict answers, tense but cheerful, and hands over the down payment so the merchant can begin taking a proper order. He's focused on that until they've got it settled, then turns toward Athessa again with a smile that seems to say 'are we done!'
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"Fine," he agrees without too much fuss, "as long as what we get doesn't look like the second or third best."
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She may not know where the fabric stalls he wants to go to are, but she knows where Hightown is, so she starts walking that-a-way.
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As they move on to the next item, he looks pleased as punch, carrying two bolts of their chosen fabric, one in each arm.
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"You sure know a lot about cloth," she says, sounding kind of impressed. But only kind of. "And negotiating."
She doesn't think she has to point out that she would've had to haggle the merchant down from an even bigger markup if Benedict weren't here. Though it comes at the price of people assuming she's his servant.
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I picked up a few things, I guess."
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What does he even like? Other than expensive things and sucking cock.
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"I like it," he decides, "I liked being chamberlain, and it was a lot of that."
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She just doesn't care to pretend to be smarter than she is.
"What does a chamberlain do, anyway?"
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He seems a little wistful.
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A little test, just in case: "What about guests who aren't important?"
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"Important just means they were invited by Riftwatch. People's personal guests usually stay nearby, or with them in their rooms, or," he waves his hand dismissively. "It's not like someone would be visiting and I'd hear 'oh yeah, put him in the shit room'. They were all nice."
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A beat.
"What did you like about it?"
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"We need paper lanterns," he reminds her, nodding toward a nearby stall that specializes in them.
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"Being Chamberlain sounds an awful lot like being a servant with a fancy title."
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"In my experience, servants carry out the orders made by their employers." He inspects a couple of show pieces, and holds one up to choose it.
"It's like the difference between the architect and the construction workers."
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He unravels a bit of the fabric to hold it next to the lantern and show her.
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"It's not bad, but I think the harder edges will look better with the rounded arches of the hall. Visual interest, and all that."
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"They are the same color. And the curvy lines of this one will match the rounded arches."
How much of this is contrarianism? How much is actual opinion? Who knows!
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See what happens when he tries to be diplomatic? See??
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"But they are the same color."
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"Anything else?"
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