"Isn't that always the way, though?" Hermes said, caught by the beauty of the slave, the way he carried himself as if he were truly not comfortable being anywhere without someone by his side. Adorable.
"The funny thing is, though, it is absolutely his intention to rob your master blind." He drew up next to the slave, arching a smug brow at the stall owner. "He gets off on making as much money as he can and knowing that good little boys who shouldn't be arguing with their betters will no doubt get beaten either for the cost or for the insubordination." He cocked his chin up, begging for the man to challenge him.
"You," the man growled. "How dare you. I won't have. Who owns you boy? I'll take you and beat you myself for such accusations."
Hermes laughed, loud and musical. "Accusations? Sir, they're nothing but truth." He picked up a tomato and bit into it as if it were an apple, utterly defiant. "Perhaps if you learned to quiet your thoughts you might not be broadcasting them to half the city?" A gross exaggeration, but the easiest way to get across what he was without coming right out and saying it. "As for beating me, well that's a very expensive pleasure and you'll have to take it up with my Lord Carrick."
The man paled. Carrick had a reputation, and any slave who was allowed out without being covered with marks and scars- a fae no less who survived in the man's household unmarred was...
"Oh such language. Really now, there's no cause for that. You'll take a quarter of your asking price and throw in some spinach as well. I mean, I assume that you'd rather that than say...last week Tuesday making it to the papers. Tsk tsk. You ought to be ashamed."
Flustered, the man shooed them both away, thrusting spinach at the other boy while Hermes laughed richly upon his retreat. "Sorry, I caught a breath of a thread of the name Anafiel and couldn't help but be curious. Delaunay by any chance?"