[He swallows past a thick throat, his adam's apple bobbing visibly. His palm burns, an itching ache that seems to magnetize toward Edelgard. Of course, she's the closest warm body available. He can't... he shouldn't... for so many reasons.]

[And yet she lingers also, looking at him with a face he can't quite read, and yet that seems to still have concern written on it. He hears the soft chiming of furin on the breeze and it makes his heart feel as if it burns along with his hand. He closes his eyes and sways, feet stuck in the sand. A wild, stupid part of him wants to ask what he was like, for her. What happened in a world where he sided with her. How things turned out... if anyone else survived, if, if, if. Now is not the time, though. Not when he can feel the ache spreading through his body, preparing to demand things of him. He should head home and look for Lorenz or Zechs, or Corrin, or anyone else less awkward... but he doesn't move.]