Before they departed from the settlement, a stop was made at the local blacksmith as per Donovan's instruction. Receiving his sword anew in an ornate evergreen wrapping, the silk fell away to reveal the sharpened blade.

"This isn't the rapier you used yesterday?" Lee noted, peering at the dazzling filigree of the longsword's hilt. The inlaid crest of a silver ram entwined into the twists of metal declared the owner proudly.

"I don't prefer to carry it if it's not needed," the prince said simply, thanking the smith with coin before another inquiry,"what do you have in the way of Synan blades?"

Happy to present his best work, the smith gestured to a wall of weapons for the two to explore, a nervous bead of sweat rolling on his forehead as he awaited royal judgement.

"You need another sword?" Lee jabbed, running his hands along various works for inspection. Just as he plucked a peculiar pointed blade from the wall, however, Don had already come to a decision.

"Any additional daggers?"

"Yes, your highness, of course!" Rather than bother with the average pieces on display, the blacksmith unbuckled a large case from his inventory shelves. The inside was padded with hay and cloth, and a number of exquisite knives and short blades were neatly packed side by side.

Selecting a golden scabbard, Donovan inspected the handle and contents carefully before sheathing and offering it to Lee.

"Tell me how this feels."

An inkling of suspicion in his voice, Lee commented tersely as he flipped the blade in his palm,"Well crafted, a fine dagger."

The center of the blade was visibly shallow basin before thickening up to the sharpened edge, a classic technique in Syna for making light of scarce metal. A few simple blossoms were carved into the handle, a gentle nod to its maker's inspiration for the piece. Authentic, no, but well made nonetheless. Satisfied by his response, Donovan pressed a gold coin to the smith.

"I-I'm afraid it's only gilded, your highness, this is really too much!"

"I hope you don't intend to buy this for me, Donovan,"

Waving the both of them off, Don rewrapped his longsword and made to leave, leaving Lee once more to scramble after him with final goodbyes made to the smith. As they suited their horses for the long run, he was sure to not let the ordeal rest.

"You're really too much, you know. Who said I needed a weapon?"

"Must we go over yesterday again?"

"What if I already owned one?"

"Then at least you'll feel obligated to carry this one."

Casually assisting Lee to mount his horse, Donovan at last made it to his own. Following the worn roads out of town, the scolding continued:

"And a decorative dagger at that! The same price could have bought a half decent sword- not that money seems to be a concern of yours,"

"While well enough for local nobility, none of the swords were of my standard. I'll have a much better one for you once we're in the capitol."

This, at least, managed to quiet Leilani down, the implication he would be receiving even more gifts from the prince enough to turn him sheepish. Little time passed before chatter once more ensued, however, entertaining them both well into the afternoon. As the sun fell and they readied their bed rolls around an impromptu campfire, Lee ventured to ask about Donovan’s sister. Passing a water skin to Lee, he complied with an answer.

“Constance, as you may know, is the crowned princess of Anin. We were quite close when I was a child, but when I started to travel more and more as a teen, we resorted to writing letters. I guess the habit stuck, though I can’t imagine how she finds the time to respond. The rest of my sisters may write on occasion, but usually only add on to what Constance writes.”

Drinking generously from the satchel, Lee wiped his mouth with his sleeve when he was finished,”You’re the youngest, aren’t you? I quite envy that.”

A spark at last catching on their campfire, a mellow orange glow lit up their faces with the early moon. Lee sat precariously close to the fire without any mind to the heat singing his legs as Don spoke and unwrapped the night’s rations.

“I can’t imagine why. Little left for a sixth son to accomplish, in a family as large as mine.” They exchanged water and food, the light of the flames dancing with their shadows as they moved. Lee gazed absently into the embers, his response slow on the uptake.

“Wouldn’t you rather accomplish great things when expectations are so low than feel the world waiting for you to prove your worth? I think I pity your sister much more in this case.”

Donovan glanced at Lee from the corner of his eye, as though considering him as carefully as he did his blade. While Lee was no stranger to lively conversation and perused socialization with charming ease, Don had come to realize that beneath the boisterous personality a busy mind spun without relent. Between bursts of banter, he could often find Lee as quiet as he was now, as though winding up his thoughts before springing again.

“Wouldn’t a prince your age have an estate to run by now, anyways? Why do you insist on always traveling?”