A gift?
From a merchant in the Weapons Hall?
That wasn't normal.
Nothing in this city was free.
Arthur had spent enough time in the slums to know that nothing was free. And, a simple kind gesture didn't exist in places like this.
Everything was a transaction. A calculated move.
His gaze sharpened slightly as he studied the saleswoman.
She remained poised, her professional smile never wavering, but there was a certain deliberate nature in the way she had spoken.
A test.
A probe.
She was watching him.
Measuring his reaction.
Arthur slowly let the coins slip back into his inventory.
Then, after a moment, he nodded. "Alright, then. I'll thank you for your gift."
His tone was even, unreadable.
He neither sounded overly grateful nor suspicious.
A neutral stance.
One that left room for interpretation.