His purse is empty and this man is wrapping that bolt in paper for him, and Lucius can barely do anything but grin. He asks a question, some light followup, and unfortunately he doesn't have an answer. He gapes, like a slack jawed fool for a moment or two and then--well, it's not a lie, but only because he's just thought of it.

"New set of Sunday clothes," Lucius says as he watches him wrap it. Yeah, that...that makes sense. He can take it back over to that tailor, see if he can't get him to make an outfit of it in place of one of the brocades he picked. It won't be fancy enough to have him passing as a page but...but he can wrap himself up in it and just. Be. When he needs.

"Man's got to have a few nice suits, right?" Lucius asks, and the statement looks a bit odd, a bit haughty on his youthful boyish face.

"You...carry this sort of fare often?" He asks, redirects and watches as he ties it up in string.