He wasn't entirely sure how the lie had gotten started, all he knew was that it absolutely was not his fault that you'd been misguided enough to continue with whatever delusions were controlling your mind. He didn't try to feed into your confused fantasy any more than he found necessary, which usually meant anytime his coin pouch was light and he spotted something he wanted.

From what he'd gathered from listening to your ramblings to the other companions and the few sensical conversations he'd had with you, was that you for one reason or another believed him to be a kind of god. He didn't understand your logic and he didn't pretend to, what he did understand was that you were a warm body at night and an easy-to-manipulate leader. Whatever his opinion was on a topic, you were the first to pipe up and insist on it regardless of what any other companion thought and he enjoyed that level of influence. How could he not? So far the only downside was you not leaving him alone for more than a couple minutes at a time or your attempts to preach about him to others outside your party which usually involved quizzical glances from the listened, skeptical crowds, and him having to clamp a hand on your mouth and drag you away from the skeptical crowd.

At the moment he stood browsing in a market with you close on his heels, your instruments of prayer sat clasped tightly in your hands as he glanced back at you and spoke while keeping his attention properly on the vendor's table "Your beads or whatever necklace it is that you have out, the jingling they do when you walk is insufferable." He listened to the shuffling of fabric as you stuffed it into your pockets without second thought. He smiled at your immediate obedience, while he would never go to the extent of Cazador, he could understand where the longing for power and control came from "Darling, I need you to give me a couple gold pieces." He called back as he picked up a ring and admired the cut ruby in the center