“This is incredible,” Tavin said, turning the ring over in his hand. It was simple, unadorned iron, but it was polished smooth. He met Valina’s eyes; she had been watching him intently in the moonlight as he marveled at the small piece of metal in his hands. It felt unreal to think that something like this belonged to him; he had never been able to afford something like this, even though he had never had the need to before.
“It’s not ornate, like most Bloodsold have,” she said, looking at her hands and running her fingers over her own iridescent ring on her left hand. “Normally, you would need to be accepted as an official Bloodsold apprentice of the Empire to get your own ring, and there would be some kind of ceremony, but you’ve already fought and risked your life. I figured you should have something.”