"Here," Veronica hands him a flimsy bracelet, its azure-gold twine clumsily braided together to form a loose wrist band. Her voice is quiet, almost a whisper when she speaks. The princess' eyes tack themselves onto the ground, noticeably avoiding Marth's gaze. She lets out a long and drawn out sigh. "the gold is for good fortune, the blue is for... loyalty. I thought someone like you might enjoy this sort of thing."
𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀.
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐒 first war or shortly after it, a greater lifetime of milk and honey has seen more offerings placed in his royal hand than what it could reasonably hold. Panes of gold and silver hammered into delicate trinkets, or enameled beakers crafted into being by the finest of glass wrights.. Alongside precious stones unearthed from all four corners of his continent. Between them all, one could say that the Altean prince was no stranger to the lap of luxury; the untold gifts it entailed.
But even then, their value couldn’t compare a hundredfold to a small, shoddily constructed bracelet with scraggly ends. Pooling in the center of his palm by the generosity of a well-intentioned young girl.
Lowered onto a knee in order to level their faces, a growing smile threatened to collapse his composure at the realization that he was being fashioned into the rare recipient of an even rarer, handmade gift. His head bobbed in encouraging nods, particularly at the flightiness to her gaze as it swerved away from his and found comfort in the ground.
“It’s wonderful, Veronica! I take it you’ve placed a lot of thought into the creation. It’s certainly clear to see,” he immediately said, timed perfectly with the short lull following her words. Left too long without an answer and any child’s confidence could be devastatingly halved, particularly in the case of a youth so unused to giving as Veronica.
Without prompting, he slipped his fingers through the noose of the bracelet-a cinching fit at best, though the fact was tactfully ignored-before flipping his wrist this way and that with an admiring gaze.
“Goodness.. How did you know these were my favorite colors as well?” Largely unthinking; instinct itself puppeted the joints of his hand as Marth pressed it kindly to the top of Veronica's smooth tawny head. Stroking downwards a few times, just like how had done for another big-hearted little girl. “I hope it brings you no shame to give me this, young lady, because I couldn’t imagine anything better.”