Skyler's first order of business the day after the tournament was to give credit where credit was due.

On Tuesday afternoon he went out for a stroll in the mild autumn-like weather. He wore a pair of baggy, holey Levi Silvertabs (his favorite and most comfortable jeans), and a white dress shirt. It was unbuttoned, the shirt tail flapping behind him in the breeze. There was a wound on his stomach from the sword duels the previous night, and he wanted to let it air out.

He made a stop by the florist and picked up a bouquet of red roses, then strode at a leisurely pace across the city of RhyDin until he reached Jewell's villa, carrying the roses in a clear glass vase out in front of him.

Skyler knew that Jewell was most likely inside getting dolled up for the party tonight, so he left the vase of roses on the front porch. Nestled amongst the cluster of thorny stems he left a note he had penned for her earlier that day.

Dear Jewell:

I can't thank you enough for your support last night. I never would have won if it weren't for you. Every time I thought I was done for, I heard your voice and it gave me strength. Thank you for believing in me.

Sincerely,

Skyler