The thin line between perseverance and folly.
My poor nephew. So headstrong. So ambitious. Attacking every problem with the only tool he knows: his sword.
He hacks at his insecurity, his sisters' cleverness… even his father's throne. Desperate to carve his own shape into the world, sovereign from the Great Navigator.
And where did his overweening pride lead him? Into exile. Such a shame.
But do you know what? I predict he'll return stronger than ever.
And when he does, it won't be because he grew as cunning as his auntie. Or as clever as his sisters. Or as thoughtful as his father.
It'll be because he finally found a bigger sword.