"Why would you say that?" I huffed, as I grabbed the cup of free water and chugged it until the bread was washed down and my mouth was clear enough to speak.
A piece of bun almost going down the wrong pathway.
"It is genuine advice from a professional," he replied smoothly. He didn't even look at me as he slid a single bronze coin across the wooden table toward the seller; the metal made a sharp, scratching sound against the grain.
"Don't bother with the change," he added, rising from the stool in one fluid motion. As he stood, his robes cascaded around him like falling water, catching a stray breeze. Even from a distance, I could tell the fabric was expensive. It looks so light it practically defied gravity.
"Rich bastard," I mouthed, watching him stride off. For a man of his size, his footsteps were eerie; they didn't make a single sound against the cobblestones, as if he were walking an inch above the ground. Which is way too creepy considering my heightened sense.
