Ask and you shall receive. Didn't the noble folk always? Only, they asked with coin instead of words, and the results were exploitation, blackmail, or bloodletting. Or, if someone really had an issue, all three in no particular order. But not this kid, not the spitfire that, simultaneously, seemed nice enough. Wouldn't be the first one here he'd want to exploit, but if it paid well? She'd be just another victim of a contract.
"My conclusion? You and one of your housemates are . . . close. And the dress you're wearing? The colors mean something to you. That it, kid?"
"...You are quite correct, sir." There was a faint stroke of color that reached her cheeks, bashful that a man so keen on staying on her heels had approached her so wittingly. He was not the first to approach her, but his particular way of presenting his observations was awfully methodical. It was a touch embarrassing, and she was unsure for whom. "Then am I to suspect you have been watching me for a while? Or do you take a sparing interest in many?"
"My conclusion? If you are people watching," She rustled through her small bag, pausing more for suspense than a real search. Pulling from it colored theatre binoculars, with lenses dyed a gradient of pastel pink to blue, she pressed it into his hands. "Here. You may need this." A soft smile followed, no longer affected by the second-hand embarrassment that tickled her.
"Miss Poe and I were people watching earlier. May it serve you as well as I."
