"Darling?"
Ercilia's melodic voice flows softly, causing Iorwerth to come to a still.
The nickname brings a kind of warmth that isn't riddled with fear or pain. Melting into the sensation, he feels himself calm down. By then, she isn't curled up as much as before. He decides to ignore the hesitation in her eyes and instead embrace the fact that she's talking to him, calling him, needing him, missing him –
It's all Iorwerth ever wants from Ercilia.
"Iorwerth…" she called again, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"D-Do... Do you want to talk about what's... u-upsetting you?"
"No…" he rasped lowly, and she winced slightly.
"There's nothing for me to say."
"Is… I-Is there anything I can do to help? I-I... I don't like seeing you upset."
"Because you want me to be happy? Or because I frighten you, my lady?"
He grins at her as if he's taunting her. Even then, she regards him without flinching.
