I know, Noctis. [His arms turned more secure and less the too-careful touch of glass when Noctis started clinging to him; still not restricting, but trying his hardest to be some kind of anchor as best Ardyn could.] I know. It isn't your fault. It was never your fault. You didn't deserve any of this, and neither of us wanted any of it. You've nothing at all to apologize for, certainly not to me.

[It didn't matter to Ardyn if saving the world meant that he would die. That was something he had been prepared for two thousand years ago, and now it practically sounded like two birds with one stone, so to speak. He would have to die somehow, sooner or later. Why not in service to what he had always wished to do?]

I haven't the heart to give you false hope, or the right to force you upon a path risking more than we are willing to wager. There may not be any other route for either of us, and what the Draconian demands may well come to pass no matter what anyone desires. It's fine to be afraid of that; I would dare call it sensible.

...But I don't want you to be what I was, destroying yourself bit by bit every day and hiding such immeasurable fear from everyone that cares for you. I didn't want such a fate for Somnus then, and I would not wish it on anyone else now. Least of all you.