Emera felt her cheeks take on a very pink color. "Th-thank you, River." She knew he was trying to help her by buying the child's silence. Sometimes, the stoic prince would do something that was quite surprisingly touching. It always shocked her to see that something so tender hid under all the armor. She supposed, though, that it made sense. All across her world, this was true. Castles guarded princesses, who hid away inside. Animals guarded their stomachs, the softest part of their bodies. Armor guarded River, along with his foul disposition and scowl. But it turned out, those defenses just sheltered a tender heart.

With him seated upright, now, Emera took her turn to lean against him. She melted against his side with her head gently on his shoulder. "You are good to me, River. I appreciate it." She, teasingly, had left a kerchief on his pillow ever afternoon for him to find when he went to bed. She thought the tradition was foolish, silly, and completely and utterly romantic. It seemed almost too sweet to be a dragon's tradition. The one for tonight was safely hidden inside her skirt. She'd made a delicate border of thorns, with his initials in the corner, two swords crossed behind the letter. She thought he would enjoy it. She'd been trying to make as many masculine designs as she could.

"I wonder why your brother wrote you, River." she said softly. "It seems odd that he might send a letter at the same time as Sylvia. Do you think that they are alright?" She inquired curiously. She broke the seal to her letter gently, and carefully unfolded her paper. Bowing her head, she turned her eyes to the words. If it was something that River should not read, she was sure Sylvia would have written in elven, and she would know to turn away.