She thought his speech was corny? And here he was, pouring his heart out to her! It was worth it, though, because that look on her face made his entire day regardless of what happened. Still, as she would agree to his terms, he almost broke into another speech. He wanted to tell her everything he thought, everything about the way he truly felt. But honestly, he was a man of few words, and even if he wanted to ignore her and outright say it anyway, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Grant would comply with her wishes, if somewhat begrudgingly, though he didn’t have the heart to tell her that his siblings were more than well aware what a sap he truly was—gods knew how much they teased him about it regularly. It was nice to see her better, though he had no idea how he healed her, nor did he know the possibility of being able to do it again. He never had a talent for healing magicks, but for now, he would simply accept it. Without bothering to ask her permission, Grant would rise to his feet, carrying her in his arms very much like how a groom carries his bride. Before he would walk, however, he would look at her hand pointedly. “[color=purple]Do take care of that ring. It has a lot of love into it, and I don’t think my mother’s spirit would ever forgive me if something were to happen to it,[/color]” He said nonchalantly. [hr] Lannit was barking up the wrong tree if he was looking for reason. Lorenzo had been listening intently—not that he had much choice, considering he wasn’t from the area and couldn’t offer suggestions—and it became steadily clear on what they needed to do. Crossing his arms, he shook his head at Lannit, closing his eyes for a moment. “[color=darkorange]You’re right about there being no time, but we can’t risk getting arrested. Ironically, it’d be faster if we went in, guns blazing, and just kick that thing’s ass and call it a day,[/color]” Lorenzo admitted, opening his golden eyes. “[color=darkorange]A suicide mission…even if it is, I don’t have a choice. There’s no way in hell I’m leaving Reia there, not after she gave herself up just to give us a chance to fix all this shit.[/color]” [hr] A cough was what finally woke the princess up. Sand had found its way into her lungs, causing her to cough repeatedly in an effort to take it out. Letting out a groan, she would realize that she was partially buried in sand, the wind having picked it up and thrown it over her. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to make her struggle slightly to sit up. A stinging pain persisted through her head, though she would ignore it unintentionally as she was in a daze. The Sandsea? Why were they here? Upon looking around, she would see Wesley laying next to her. Her eyes widened as the events from before flooded her mind—specifically that of Keiran and Emiri. Becoming frantic, she searched the area, as if hoping to see them, but wherever they had left to, they were long gone. How could she have let this happen? No, there was that…[i]thing[/i] that arrived, its Mist so foul that it managed to knock them both out. But why? And why take Emiri? No, now was not the time for questions, especially when some crunching noises alerted Nadeline that they were not alone. Her hand flew to her weapon, though she realized the noises came instead from a squadron of knights. She recognized their armor—they must have been from Dalmasca. “Greetings, we are a search party dispatched by Her Highness to search for any lost citizens due to the airship crash,” One knight saluted her. “My lady, shall I accompany you and the fallen man back to the city?” How terrible it had been, had people gone wandering through the desert in their delirium? Nadeline herself had hit her head, so she deemed it likely. It was then she would shake Wesley, trying to wake him. “[color=coral]Wesley, Wesley, are you alright?[/color]” She called out to him as she would shake him. “Wesley? Surely you don’t mean Prince Wesley of Dalmasca?” Another knight inquired. “It is him!” Yet another confirmed, almost excited. “Her Highness will be most relieved!”