Princes and Pawns Alike In Ignorance

"May I see that for a moment?" Pari asks one evening at a private supper, pointing to the silver curved dagger strapped to the Mistborn Prince's chest. Their eyebrows raise somewhat.
"Is there a particular reason why, or is it curiosity?" the newfound ruler asks, the lilt of a smile seeming both polite and wary, though they take the dagger from its scabbard. Pari's eyes bore into it.
"Both."
There's a moment before the saltborn hands the dagger, gently, to Pari. "May I ask why?"
"You may," she says, holding it to eye-level and peering closely, running a finger along the rippling edge of colorless flickering fire pearlescent in the silver. She does not elaborate more, silently noting the subtle hints that remain of the origins of this particular Wardens Arm.
"...Why?"
 
Pari khan'Shald tilts it one way and the next, seeing how the swirling carvings catch the light. "Are you aware at all of the nature of this weapon's origins, Prince?"
"My old companions and I slew a great dragon and were able to use its silver bones to craft what have been called the Wardens Arms."
"And why did you seek to slay the Grymdraigg, I wonder?"
There's a bitter silence. "It's a long story involving three sisters and a bit of trickery to get one of our companions something he desired almost more than anything else. The bones were a gift to me from the sisters, and the majority helped begin the restoration of the Spear soon afterward." Her lips quirk into a small and brief smirk.
"Hm. These three sisters, did they tell you what the Grymdraigg was? Or why you needed to slay it?"
 
The prince looks shrewdly at the Velherem, off-put and confused. "No. Why?" The smirk widens to a bitterly mocking grin.
"I suppose I have you to thank for it, then," Pari responds. "There's no way you could have known, but that little slaying set off quite a chain of events, dear Prince. Next time before shaping the course of the world, you should try learning a bit more first. Three questions is traditional, but you are not a traditional ruler, apparently."
 
She stands and turns her back on the young god, waving as she goes. "Thank you for hiring my services, Prince El'thea, by your leave. My reports are on the table."