[Once Clive has taken his seat, the princess shifts until she's comfortable beside him. Not quite brushing up against him but not quite maintaining the space between them, either.]

Clive, then.

There was a tradition we had when I was a girl. If you could catch a mote of light and blow it like a kiss to the moon, whatever you wish would come true, but only if it falls into place beside her.

[There are several motes in the air in front of them both, and the princess takes great care in choosing between them, letting so many pass it may seem like she doesn't intend to catch one at all. When a brilliantly red one rises from the sand, though, she's quick to grasp it in the cage of her palms, peeking inside to make sure it's there. Satisfied, she looks into those blue, blue eyes of his and fondly smiles.]

I remember making such a wish once for someone's safe return. It took a great deal of time, but...

[But what? Her thoughts trail off, so instead she simply holds her hands out to him, prepared to give him the mote.]

Would you like to go first, or should I?