Anduin bites his lip at the question, remembering how small and delicate the flower had been in his hand.

"I suppose it depends on the success of the rest of our companions," he replies, honestly. "From what I understand, the symptoms are to be soothed by a tea made from the maiden's veil. I do not know how much of a tea can be made from just one flower."

He frowns harder, moving to rub a hand along Wrathion's arm himself, gathering some of the moisture in the fabric of his glove.

"But I am not asking you to torture yourself for this. The others may have found some as well." His expression softens slightly. "I do wish to solve this for the prince. But not at the risk of you."