Mm. I suspect that no matter the outcome, I won't consider myself to have lost.

[So he says, neatly timed, as the attendant he'd spoken with shortly before returns with a sleek black box, opaque and discreet, and offers it to Rufus with a slight incline of his head. The accessories necessary for their little endeavor, evidently; as the attendant leaves, Rufus passes the box over to Aventurine.]

I can't guarantee it's your color. But somehow I doubt that'll matter in the long run.