Two gleaming golden rings were set before Syryn. He glanced at Rowan who was waiting for him to inspect the rings.
The mage picked up a ring. The cold metal band had an engraving on its inner surface. It read Rowan & Syryn Windwalker.
"Syryn Windwalker?" He asked while turning the ring over his palm.
"There wasn't enough space for two surnames," came the clever reply. "Do you not like it?"
The mage slipped the ring around his finger and tucked his hands behind his back. "I like it. Now wear yours."
The jeweller snickered at the embarrassed mage who was pretending to be stoic about the situation. For two ingots of gold, he would wait all day for the shy customers to get over their little ceremony.
