Change of Plans

"Right now, I'm more interested in how you ended up with that necklace," Rizz remarked, changing the subject. "Are all storage items that good, or is that necklace special?"

Sabina looked down at her last steak medallion. She nibbled her lip, pressing a hand to the black-metal choker. 

"This… I know it's special. That's what my father always said." 

Rizz's mentally deduced, *Ah, so it's an heirloom. That explains her attachment.*

Out loud, the goblin asked, "Really? Then why not sell it and make bank–"

"I'll never do that…"

Sabina growled, forcing herself to not get emotional once more. She wiped her lips clean with the back of her clenched fist. 

"I will keep this all my life. It will never be sold. It's worth more to me than any merchant." 

"Do you at least know what it's worth on the market?" Rizz stroked his fingers over his upper lip, as if he had a bushy mustache. "I'll need to know for when I buy one myself."