After Imenry won the bout, Constans began to consider moving along to the row of training dummies as he had originally intended. What he failed to take into account in this plan was the possibility of the pair of warriors noticing him. Despite the last week spent here amid the controlled chaos of the Keep, he simply had not yet begun to adjust to being paid attention. At the tower, Tranquil were practically architecture.
"Good morning ser Ordhan, Imenry," Constans replied quietly, his grip shifting subtly on the haft of his blade. He would need a sheath. It was becoming uncomfortable to carry the blade without one. The blade would require care, of course, sharpening and repair. Today he would return to the forge. Perhaps the smiths would allow him use of the anvil, if there were no order being filled.
"I did," he added to answer Imenry's question. With a brief, uncertain pause, he leveled his vacant gaze at Ordhan and supplied earnestly, "I have acquired a blade."