Upon recognizing Sylveria, Isla and Isao exchanged knowing glances, their faces breaking into smiles filled with nostalgia and warm recognition. "Well, looks like we three finally meet again." Isao said, her words laced with gentle humor as she gazed fondly at her childhood companion. She, couldn't contain her excitement, giggling softly at the unexpected reunion. Her mind raced with memories of countless adventures shared with Sylveria and Isla in their former lives, each of them having undergone such dramatic transformations in this new world.

As swift as a zephyr, Sylveria pulled Isla into a tender embrace, while Isao joined in with equal affection. Isla's stoic facade masked the searing agony pulsing through her wounded hands each subtle movement eliciting a rivulet of crimson.

Upon noticing her friend's pained state, Sylveria's initial greeting faltered, her royal composure momentarily supplanting by a note of concern. "Isla! What's wrong? Wait, you're... a commoner?"

Shocked realization flitted across Sylveria's ethereal features, a grimace twisting her pristine visage as she finally noticed Isla's clothes. She wonders if the very goddess who had implored their aid, granting them new lives, be responsible for inflicting such a humbling fate upon their dearest companion?

"It's alright, Sylv, I don't really mind. But it is annoying not having my "all-seeing eyes" and "white mana." Right now, I'm just a normal girl with no powers." The usually refined Princess Sylveria, however, appeared far from composed. She scanned Isla's injuries with concern, her voice trembling slightly. "But you're bleeding, Isla! Who dared harm you?" Sylveria demanded, her tone carrying an uncharacteristic edge of vulnerability.

Her stern guards immediately snapped to attention, brandishing their weapons and prepared to apprehend any offender. Isao's brother, Ali, looked on in puzzlement at the escalating scene, unsure how to react to this display of familiarity between princess and commoner.

One of Sylveria's court ladies gasped, scandalized by Isla's brazen interactions with royalty. "My lady, allow me to summon the healer." she suggested timidly, flustered by the peasant girl's forwardness in addressing the princess so informally.

Isla's detached gaze drifted to the blue sky as she pondered the appropriate protocol, her voice devoid of emotion. "So, should I address you as 'Princess', 'Your Highness', or 'My Liege'?" The question hung in the air, a reminder of the unfamiliar societal strictures governing their new reality. Sylveria's cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink at Isla's question, her initial delight at the reunion swiftly giving way to self-consciousness. Isao, ever the imp, found herself unable to contain her mirth, laughter bubbling up from her throat as she echoed Isla's query. "My Liege is good, ahahahaha!"

The brothers, Kite and Ali, watched the unfolding scene with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

The princess cleared her throat, attempting to regain her poise amidst Isao's infectious laughter.

"My liege is acceptable, Isla." Sylveria replied, her voice steady once more. Despite the formal title, the fondness in her eyes betrayed her true feelings for her childhood friends.

As Isao continued to chuckle, her mirth echoing through the streets, Sylveria shot her a playful glare. "You find this amusing, Isao? We're in the middle of a diplomatic crisis, and you're laughing like a fool."

Isao, still grinning, reached out to ruffle Sylveria's silky light blue hair in a gesture of affection. "Oh, come now, Sylvie. Lighten up. We've faced worse situations together, haven't we?"

The delicate political web woven by Bartolomeo's ill-conceived actions had drawn Sylveria, into the fray. As she explained to her companions, the noble youth's father, a powerful Duke, would not take kindly to his son's indiscretions. Isao, daughter of a minor noble family, and Sylveria, a royal princess, finding themselves embroiled in the maelstrom. "Sigh... This will be a problem." Sylveria remarked solemnly, her typically logical and calm demeanor subdued by the gravity of the situation. "Bartolomeo hails from a prominent noble lineage, while you, Isao, and I, by extension, are implicated due to our involvement."

A somber pause ensued.