He's going to ignore the part about eating his vegetables, as he's always done. Instead, he listens to her, and thinks—well, isn't that what happens, when you take on a crown? Suddenly you're much, much more than just a man.

"I don't think he ever thought he could be anything else," Noctis says, finally. "He had a taste of the normal life, but...even without a destiny weighing on him, I think he knew he was never going to be able to be just himself—kingship does that even in peacetime." He breathes out, and says, "And there were a lot of really complicated matters, but."

He's silent again, mulling it over in his head. When he next speaks, he's careful: "He had a few friends, good and deeply loyal friends he saw as brothers. And I miss them too, greatly, but I remember...there was a point where they looked at me, before I did what I needed to for the kingdom, and it felt like they were already at the funeral." He can't even blame them. The prophecy had been clear, after all: the King of Light had to die to bring back the dawn, and he'd gone to his death with open eyes.

Still. Still.

He doesn't want to inflict that kind of hurt on his loved ones again.