Dion hissed as he sat on the edge of the cot in the war tent. His arm had been injured once more while on the field of battle.

His fellow troops remained stationed outside, save for his loyal second-in-command, Terence.

Dion's golden eyes flicked over to Terence as his worried knight surveyed his injury, moving to the medicinal box that held all manner of tonics and tinctures for various maladies.

"Terence, you mustn't fuss over me so. I fear if you continue to furrow your brow at me, it might never return to normal." Dion chuckled faintly, making light of his situation.

Yet Terence had seen Dion injured more times than he cared to count. He knew quite well how to assist and treat his injuries since Dion was far too stubborn to see an actual healer within the Sanbrequois ranks. Likely due to concealing how the tides of battle weighed against the 'indomitable' Bahamut.

No, Terence was the only one Dion could really lower his guard around and act less like the prince that held the mantle of the world on his shoulders, and more like who he really was on the inside. A man made of flesh and blood. Who bore insecurities and weaknesses like any other.

Terence sighed slightly, shaking his head as his steel-blue eyes gazed into Dion's.

"You will have to forgive me if I do not find myself smiling when you sit before me injured once more, Your Highness." Terence countered softly, both chastising Dion and looking out for him as his role for his prince as knight and servant.

He pulled up the large box as he set about retrieving bandages for Dion's wound.

"Gods... what am I to do with you?" Terence asked with a wry smile on his handsome features.

Dion simply chuckled in return, giving Terence a playful smirk.