Rafael knelt to clasp the sword belt around Isaac’s waist. He walked a circle around his lord, checking for loose straps or edges sticking out that might catch on something, and resettled one shoulderplate. “That’s it, Master Isaac.” He cleared his throat. “Er. Good luck.”
He allowed Rafael to sort out any mistakes with a sense of detached reality, only paying attention when the other male finally spoke to him. His expression softened and he reached out to clap him on the shoulder, before pulling back and nodding. “Thank you. Just one thing, Rafael…I know that you…dislike Summer…” he murmured with a grimace, his eyes fluttering shut briefly, “But if the worst should happen, promise me that she will be well looked after?”
Rafael shook his head. “Can’t do that, Master Isaac. If you should die, th’ Prince will have no choice but to send her back where she belongs, just like the Argent wants.”