The young Prince would pause at the riverbank, steed halting relative to his mentors. There, he would speak, gaze still directed towards the water.
"Ser Edmond." He began, his small mind tending to events prior. He had acted in self-defense, for the other man, that of the flaxen hair, had struck at his bannerman's wrist, attempting to sever such. The boy, in his best judgment, had even done his best to dispel the bindings which might hinder the natator's survival. Alas, he would turn to the right, directed towards his teacher, a hand lifting to scratch at his chin.
"Does killing, even if in defense, make one a bad Canonist?"
@Emery