[He makes a faint, displeased noise at the "it" part, quietly stewing on it and the injustice of the unpleasant things that he's learned of her world and history, how she's been treated. He can recognize that she's trying not to dwell on those bad memories though, especially when she looks at him, so he exhales and goes back to stroking her hair, hoping the gesture will mollify the both of them, at least a little.]

I never liked titles all that much, either. Anybody can have a title- there's been a hundred princes, you know? A name's personal, it's yours. Nicknames are even better.

[There was probably another Noctis in history- maybe a different prince, or an everyday citizen, he has no idea. But did the others go by "Noct" to their friends? Was the pronunciation the same, did they prefer a different or a middle name instead? Who knows. It isn't him. And the same goes for Pyra; there must have been others, but none of them were her.

Something pulses in the back of his mind, heavy and ominous, and the feeling is familiar enough that he knows not to chase it, pushing it aside in favour of holding her more tightly. This is better.]