Luna didn't have much to say for her own injuries. After so much time arguing with her brother, Ravus, about the matter of her health versus her duty as the Oracle, she had learned to be a bit stubborn. And though she was bequeathed with certain healing magics, she knew the effort took time, patience, and a strong measure of her own energy.
So she felt an impulse to keep that matter to herself, if she could. For right or wrong.
However, the warmth of Noctis' fingers entwined with her own was coaxing her to relax. She allowed for the contact—a comfort that proved greater even than the letters she cherished. A small, simple gesture; something to indulge in, to strengthen her.
Luna's thoughts moved to King Regis. "I believe I can understand. So much has happened, and there has been so little time to live as normal people might. Without destiny or responsibility to sway us."
She gave him a nod. "I would like to stay and learn what I can. Everything else, I believe, can be dealt with on another day."
Her words felt certain and were strengthened with her belief; in herself, and her allies, and Noctis always.