[When Noctis touches his arm, Ignis isn't really expecting what comes next. Instead, he's thinking maybe a request for reassurance, or an inquiry about how much is really possible in this situation, or something to do with one of the others like Gladio and Prompto. He has answers prepared for any of those, really. All of Ignis's life has been meant to burn fiercer than whatever troubles come his way, flame flickering but never dying.]

[So he isn't prepared for an apology. A recognition of things more mature than he would have ever expected from his prince, when they were grinding against one another like sandpaper not all that long ago. Not long ago in the grand scheme of things, anyway.]

[Ignis's lips part in surprise, just a moment, before a soft smile actually creeps its way there. Just for a second.]

Well. It seems you've grown up more than merely physically, haven't you?

[And what a quiet little ache that stirs in his chest. He wanted to see it happen. He wanted to be there every step of the way.]

[But that's not in his cards, is it?]

Well... For what it is worth, such information like that has no good way to be told. [A hurt that will coil in his gut for a long time, and which he'll hide away.] But better to stay busy.

A place like this will at least save you from the fate of Gladio's snoring, since it seems large enough for us to have some of our own rooms. Can you go about, do a proper count of them? I'll see what may need to be considered in here.

[Gaps in the windows for the wind, what cooking tools they'll have here, etc.]