Sequoia Coast clap if you've got a ticket to the end of the world

Prince couldn't help another snort, this time a little amused despite himself at Arrille's reaction. He quickly straightened his expression. Okay, I'm pretty sure two of them do. I don't know if Heda does. That's what matters.
At the question, he paused only to make sure he was meeting the other's eyes with the most sincerity he could manage. What would I have done? I-- I miss them more than anything, but I don't think I'd trade what I have for a ghost. Things can never be the same once they change.
He said it simply, without accusation or grandeur, but with a touch of confusion. As if the observation should have been obvious. Despite himself, the boy didn't want to hate Arrille. He didn't want to have to want him dead, or worse. But Prince knew he may only be delaying the inevitable-- selfishly buying himself time to entertain the idea that they could still be friends. Once his Heda declared Arrille the enemy, if she ever did, he would be obligated to hate him. To put his own life on the line to kill him, if the opportunity should arise.
Prince knew without a doubt he would do it if commanded, but the idea gnawed in his chest.