The guard at the Mayor's Mansion saw her and let her through without asking any questions.
She crossed the foyer, went upstairs, and pushed open the door to Oswald's room.
The room smelled strongly of herbs. Oswald was wrapped in a thick Dark Blue Robe, propped against the pillows at the head of his bed, holding a steaming cup of Herbal Tea. A box of tissues sat beside him.
His face was pale, and he did look sick.
But Ririko noticed that his foundation was uneven. There was a clear line where his face met his neck, an obvious sign that he had slapped it on in a hurry.
When he saw Ririko, he drew out his words in a raspy voice, trying his best to sound even weaker:
"Thank goodness you're here... any later, and I don't think I could have held on."
Ririko walked over to the bed. Instead of exposing his foundation, she reached out and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. "Poor little Oz."
Oswald set down his cup, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pressed his face against her stomach, saying weakly:
"That nasty bat in tights and pointy ears bullied me... Edward is missing... you're all I have left."
Ririko looked down at the head resting against her and teased, "Don't you still have your money?"
"That doesn't count," Oswald said, his voice muffled. He felt the two weren't remotely comparable.
Ririko stroked the top of his head and said with false sympathy, "If it doesn't count, you might as well give it all to me."
Oswald paused.
He lifted his head, hesitated briefly, then leaned against her again, trying to coax a little more sympathy out of her:
"I'm this sick, and you don't even feel sorry for me?"