Alias looked down at his ruined silks, then back at Theo, who was watching him with a mixture of pity and interest.
"Rich?" Alias repeated, the word feeling clunky. "I suppose I have... resources. But I have no luggage. And I do not know what it means to be 'mogged'."
Theo snorted, nearly choking on a piece of bread. "Mogged. Robbed. Cleaned out. You're wandering around the Southern District looking like a literal diamond, and you don't even have a bag? You're lucky I was the one who ran past you and not the guys from the Red Alley. They would've stripped those clothes off you before you could blink."
Theo took another aggressive bite of the bread, then paused, looking at Alias's pale, sweat-slicked face. The stranger looked genuinely dazed. He didn't look like a pampered noble looking for a thrill; he looked like a creature that had just been birthed into the world ten minutes ago. Everything seemed new to him.
