On the battlefield, one must always expect the unexpected. Usually, this comes in the form of ambushes or traps, or else other unforeseeable occurrences from within your own forces. Priam prides himself on always seeing the outcomes of battle before they begin, few things ever come as a shock to him.
"Hey Father, do you think we could talk about girls for a minute?"
The question came out of the blue and threw Priam off guard. The sword he was training with missed its mark completely and slid out of his hand, planting itself several feet away.
"I didn't surprise you, did I?" Morgan asked with a concerned look. Luckily for them both, few people dared to train near Priam, so the only ones at risk from flying swords were Morgan and Priam, himself.
"Don't be ridiculous!" Priam tried to play it off, moving to grab the fallen sword. "I was merely testing to see if other swords could be thrown in a similar fashion to Ragnell."
Morgan eyed his father skeptically, the same look his own wife gave him when he had to come up with similar saves.
Priam cleared his throat loudly as he stood back in front of his son, mostly to distract Morgan from putting two and two together as fast as he would. "Girl trouble. I hear you have some problems."
"Yeah! See, a few weeks ago, Severa gave me this really delicious soup, but it was missing something…" Morgan furrowed his brow, "Come to think of it, she still didn't tell me what she put in it the second time…"
"Focus, Morgan."
"Right! Uh, so, after I said it was missing something, she gave me ANOTHER bowl of soup and, man, it was delicious! Way better than before, even."
Priam was starting to see what the problem might be. It was so obvious that even he, a man so focused on his own self, could see it as clear as day.
"Anyways, she told me to ponder it over while I cleaned up the pot and bowl, but it's been on my mind for weeks!"
"Weeks? Well, that's not so bad…" Priam let out a small sigh of relief. If all Severa is waiting on is a confession of sorts, then the problem would be easy to solve.
"Well, I didn't finish…"
Uh oh, Priam thought, girding himself.
"See, she moved into my tent with me, and every so often we cook and eat together! Even late at night she won't go back to her own tent and has to stay in my cot, with me even. She specifically said 'You are NOT sleeping on the floor unless you're in trouble', and I've been even more confused since!"
Priam was stunned for a few moments. Apparently he has started a tradition of women slowly working into the lives of those they love through homelier activities. Why can't potential lovers simply fight one another in duels until they discover mutual attraction? It'd be far simpler than this!
"Father? Your jaw has dropped."
So it had. Priam quickly closed his mouth and put his hand on his chin, as though in thought. "Morgan, what I'm about to ask you is possibly the most important thing I will ask you in your life."
"Ask away, Father, I'm ready!"
"Do you," Priam paused for dramatic effect, and because he was attempting to formulate how to ask the question without being so direct, "have affections for this woman beyond being a comrade-in-arms?"
"Ah, well," Morgan's face steadily growing red spoke louder than his stuttering words. "W-well, it'd be hard not to with all that we've shared over the past while…" There were some things that Morgan could never tell his father, the embarrassment from it resonated loudly within some instinctual part of his mind.
"Then I'm about to send you on the most important mission of your life."
Morgan nodded determinately, a stern and serious expression crossed his face.
"You need to go purchase a ring. A woman's ring, the best one you can find that you believe she would like- no, she must adore it."
"A… ring? But where am I supposed to get one?"
"A jeweler, most likely…"
"Oh! Phew! I thought you were going to send me to scour some ancient tomb or other. Or maybe fight a dragon for its horde of gold and jewels!"
Priam put a hand on Morgan's shoulder. "Son, please, this is serious. Find her ring size – not by asking her directly – and get the ring. If you need gold, just grab some from my tent, I'll cover you from your mother's inquires."
"Right! This will have to have a lot of recon involved… Who do you think would know besides her?"
"Why not ask that ponce of a man? The dancer, not the archer."
"Genius! If anyone knows anything about the ladies in the army, it's him! All the times he's gotten slapped by them, he must have felt out the size purely by instinct." Without another word, Morgan dashed off to find Inigo.
Priam set the sword down and ran a hand through his hair. "I… should probably follow him to make sure he doesn't make a fool of himself. And to make sure I read the situation properly," he said this to no one in particular as he followed in his son's wake.