[ She hesitates, too. ] It was. [ She would have done all of it even if she didn't get the confirmation. No part of her was planning to relish in the victory and stay in Ylisse. Admitting it was nice feels a little strange in the grand scheme of things — like it's an overstatement and an understatement at the same time, something she feels like she should deny for the sake of propriety.

But who else could possibly understand? What it means to put one's life on the line for a last-ditch effort that shouldn't have succeeded. The war is over. All her friends — the ones who lived through it with her — aren't here ( and she wouldn't want them to be; not after she saw how happy they were with their families ). It's a miracle that she's found someone who's familiar with even a little bit of it, let alone the whole sentiment. It was nice. Still is, knowing that there's a part of her home that will live on despite the odds.

She's arrived in a world that she could not have believed it existed in her wildest dreams, and she's listening to a whole orchestra on something smaller than any instrument she knows. Admitting she got to see Ylisse's blue skies once more, and have someone understand the implications isn't the strangest thing to happen to her. What a thought. ]

For what it's worth, we weren't certain it would until the very last moment. [ One more pause. ] So I have every faith you've succeeded, as well.