"Not anymore, they can't." It was the point, wasn't it? Sometimes, Ardyn wonders if his own healing was simply an oversight always meant to be eradicated along with him. For beings that claimed to know everything and how it was all preordained, it was strange to designate a bloodline of 'true' healers when he'd already been gifted the ability himself.

When he's given permission - or rather, told to 'prove' his claims - he does step up to inspect that wound. Not as bad as the claw marks, of course, but there is still a flicker of something behind his eyes briefly. It isn't entirely remorse; he does feel bad about losing his temper, sure, but there's also an unfortunate sick satisfaction deep down he can't deny seeing Noctis in pain.

He doesn't dwell on it though. Instead, he gives a small hum of a sound to signal his starting the healing process. There is no light or indication that it's happening. Rather, Noctis will simply feel as if the pain of that frostbite is being pulled from him. And that's because it is. Beneath the sheer fabric of his sleeves and even over other scars, the same wound will be reflected onto Ardyn's arm. It 'heals' after almost immediately after appearing on his body.

"There," he says, giving his own arm a small shake from the brief discomfort, "like it never happened."