[Keeps it pressed there, shifting after a moment only so he can brush his thumb over the scar, gentle and absent in the movement]
[...]
I know I'm being stupid. You're safe. The queen, your son, all of us -- we're safe. But... [seeing the memory, and not knowing anything else that happened, being stuck here...]
But I know better by now not to believe anyone who says you're dead until I see it myself. [...] You always end up finding your way back. [But he can't shake the feeling.]