Integra slides her hand atop Edgeworth's, smiling sweetly to him before peering downward at her daughter.

"Gregoria, I don't believe the defender of your kingdom would like it very much if we were warring against one another-- and frankly, I wouldn't like it either."

She spoke in the same, hushed, cooing tone she normally would to read bedtime stories or settle her down during a storm. This, too, she felt applied here.

"Would you have preferred I had to wash and comb the sand from your hair later?"

Somehow, Integra doubts that's the case.