He caught her with a roll of his eyes, as if he were simply plagued by whiny teenagers all the time - but when she threw his words back in his face, he actually laughed, dark and deep.
"Anything? You want the money from my pockets, little swan? How do you know the price is too high, did you count the coin I earned? Because I seem to remember you asking how much it was," he said, one eyebrow cocking artfully.
"Fine, you want another reason?" he said, hands twisting to lightly encircle her wrists; not to hold her, but so they both knew where the other's hands were. He bent to press his lips to her ear, some spiced scent following him so close. "Because you're carrying around more gold than I've got in my stash at home, little swan, and I haven't nicked so much as a potato from your plate. Consider that my kindness," he whispered - and the word kindness twisted his voice, made it something more dangerous. Something she should be grateful for, because that truly was a gift from this man.
"You're alone in the world, little swan," he murmured, brushing a kiss to her cheek as he straightened. Had to be, the way she hesitated on her brother's name, argued over money, and more damingly - that she'd actually turned down a silver's worth of pudding. Nel had a finite amount and no way to make more, that was his guess, and that only meant one thing: poor Sy was feeding the fishes. Which wouldn't make him sad at all if it were true, but he doubted the same could be said for Nel. "Don't go ruining what little you've got with me over a bit of scratch."
Gentle fingers released her wrists, and she just shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, head ducked down and muddy eyes watching her through a fringe of dark lashes as he stood patiently in the middle of the street, waiting for her to choose money or directions.