"oh no was i the gold digger all along"

[igiko]

Cyrus watches the onslaught of Primrose's curiosity with a smile that he conceals behind a cup of tea. Her words are as precise as her aim is with the dagger, and more is said than uttered at the table by day's end. The sun has begun to set and dye the town in its warm hues when he sets the cup down on its plate; the innocuous clink of ceramic pierces the one-sided chatter, drawing eyes his way after they'd long forgotten his presence.

"It's gotten to be rather late," he says simply. "Thank you for your hospitality, Primrose."

"I'll be waiting for your next letter," says Primrose, leaning suggestively on her side of the table once they've risen to part ways.

"And I look forward to penning it." Cyrus turns to Aoko and proffers a hand. "Shall we, my dear?"

All things considered, he thinks the meeting went quite well. He shares as much, concluding that Primrose has taken a liking to Aoko based on the slight yet genuine curvature of her smiles, which Aoko seems to have some hesitation believing at first. "Primrose is an excellent enchantress. This may cast doubt on her sincerity for some, but it also speaks for her understanding of the hearts of others. In all the time we've enjoyed one another's company, I have never seen her treat them lightly, and I see no reason as to why she would start with you."

Aoko mutters to herself—something about his phrasing—before heaving a sigh that relieves the tension in her shoulders. A moment later, she sighs again. "She's so beautiful."

"She is, yes," replies Cyrus, smiling as he watches Aoko twine her hands together and stretch her arms in front of her. But you, my dear, are lovely.

They pass the bridge and descend the staircase to the inn, where they retire to their room for the remainder of the evening. Cyrus falls asleep at the desk and awakens in the early morning with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. A glance over his shoulder confirms that Aoko opted to go without at some point in the night, and he tucks her back in before heading out to the merchant's square, where he means to pick up a thing or two that happens to pique his scholarly curiosity.

He feels a tug on his sleeve in the middle of a drawn-out conversation with a merchant, and finds himself face-to-face with a familiar pout. "Ah, Aoko. Was I gone for long?" The merchant inquires as to whether she's his lady, eliciting a chortle from Cyrus as he feels Aoko settle against him. "Aoko is her own woman. But yes, I am traveling in her company."

The merchant's gaze is sharp, catching the glint in Aoko's eyes as they reflect the manufactured radiance of the bejeweled wares on her side of the stall. Cyrus waits for the targeted pitch to pass before procuring his coin purse and gesturing to the bauble at which Aoko has stared the longest.

"Consider it my thanks for coming here with me," he says in response to her weak protest. "I also bartered the parts we salvaged from monsters on the road. To wit, a no small fraction of the expense was covered by your efforts."

On their way back to Atlasdam, Cyrus chuckles when he notices Aoko fingering an earring. "Is it to your taste? I do believe the color suits you. Perhaps we can find something to match in the next town we visit." He explains that money isn't an issue (it never has been), and in the middle of rattling off the many reasons as to why that is turns toward the chittering of monsters that suddenly rush their way. Oblivious to the despair in Aoko's cries, he falls into position and continues: "Ah, perfect timing. We can invest in your personal funds starting now."

Funds require a place to be safeguarded, he realizes belatedly. The next time Aoko sails to and fro between worlds, he picks up an elegant coin purse, fills it with leaves, and presents the lot on her return. And when she leaves it behind during another interworld travel, he plucks the pouch from its place and fills it to the brim again.