"…Verdant," Oliver said slowly, looking up. "Just what have you done?"
The priest had trouble hiding his smile. "But of course, it would have been too much to put the commission of the whole set of armour down to the Princess. I merely suggested, in several different letters, that there might be certain appropriate gifts to be made, to celebrate your new acquisition of land, and your new acquisition of command."
Oliver looked at all the pieces splattered over his bed. The priest had done something incredibly troublesome. This time, he reached for the gauntlets and undid the string, his heart beating nervously, as he tried to guess who he would have to thank next. This time, on each gauntlet, he saw his sigil, as well as the sigil of the Blackthorn House – a stag with antlers of jagged thorns.
