Signy sounded about halfway between disbelieving (they really had to sail to get to Val Royeaux? certainly there was another way) and worried (a boat, on the ocean?) when she responded. But that did make her choice slightly easier. Not only was getting on a boat and heading out into the middle of what she had occasionally heard of, this nightmarish 'ocean' thing, completely out of the question, the price forbid it as well. Fifteen sovereigns? Her mother might have worked on a suit of massive dwarven plate for months and turned every corner of the armor perfectly, and not sold it for more than that. Less, unless she'd had something truly spectacular to craft it out of.
Four? She might be able to pay four sovereigns.
"I can have practical enough clothing," she continued, and fussed a little bit more with her sleeve. She caught herself doing it about halfway through speaking, and stopped abruptly. It made the rest of her sentence come out just the slightest bit defensive. "For four sovereigns, however, I ought to know the value of the protection I'm buying. Your sword is a fine one," and this served as an answer to the warrior's earlier question. Signy did know a bit about the worth of a blade. "A very fine one, actually—what make is it? The pommel is very distinctive, and a style I've never seen before."
She had been about to make some comment about the worth of the blade being determined by the worth of its wielder, but halfway through, she'd gotten lost in contemplating the interesting sword again. Besides, a sword was often worth far more than the man or woman who swung it.