As Firenze drew back from him, looking rather abashed at her behavior, Deltan felt a faint pang of guilt. Once she explained her reasoning, that pang only grew stronger. She'd only been worried for him, and that made it worse. He'd snapped at her for not acting like almost everyone else in Sunberth. Still, Deltan wasn't planning on apologizing. He'd just make it up to her by being nice, he supposed. "It's all right... Thank you," Deltan said after a moment, giving her a smile.
The mention of food broadened his smile, and he gave a nod of agreement. He was indeed very hungry. Despite Firenze's calming efforts, it seemed like Deltan really didn't need any calming. He knew she wasn't a danger--at least, not yet--so he was at his ease. The young man still kept an eye on her, though; one never knew who could turn out to be a snake in this city. "Good idea," he agreed, moving to follow her into the tavern here. It was a smart move; when one had to walk so far to get a good bath, many people likely made a day of it.
When Firenze's stomach rumbled, Deltan simply couldn't help himself. He grinned and let out a laugh that was quickly stifled to avoid offending her. Really, it had been too long since he'd felt things were going his way, and he found himself feeling rather happy. Still chuckling quietly, he let Firenze speak with Max and get the prices. Then, once she made it clear she'd not mind shepherd's pie and juice, Deltan used some of the money Firenze had given him to pay for two portions. It left enough for him to get a room here for the night, cheaper than anywhere else he'd seen, and allowed him a chance at a real meal.
Though Deltan didn't seem quite so excited about their lunch as Firenze, he certainly did want to eat. That gave him a thought; she was awfully happy to be eating, even happier than he was and he was the one who hadn't eaten much at all recently. Odd, though nothing suspicious.
Deltan beckoned Firenze to a table, pulling out one of the chairs for her before moving to his own seat. This meal was on her, after all. It was only fair to be courteous. After removing his cloak and draping it over the back of his seat, he sat down and rested his elbows on the table. The young man studied Firenze, blue eyes scanning her briefly, though more in depth than he'd done when he first saw her; a taller woman, perhaps an inch shorter than he was at best. Though she'd just bathed, her slightly damp hair still had an untamed quality to it. Most women tended to brush their hair into a bit more order than that, though he thought that Firenze's hair fit her better as it was. She was very unusual for a Sunberthan, entirely too trusting and compassionate. Not that Deltan was complaining. It beat the usual suspicion and deception by a long shot.
He was still curious as to why Firenze had been so dirty, but he supposed it would be bad form to ask. At least, openly. So, he went at it obliquely. "So, Firenze," he said conversationally as they waited for their food to arrive, "What do you do for a living? A lady who has mizas to her name in this city has to have some livelihood."
Max brought them their juice, a fairly large cup each, and the young man offered him a smiling thanks. Really, he wasn't so irritable when things were going his way. Usually, he was fairly easy-going. It was only being robbed blind and left to die in a city that was only slightly more orderly during the day than at night. He reminded himself to catch up with the harlot who had robbed him and find a way to even the score, though that was a distant thought now. He was in entirely too good a mood to dwell on it.
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