Alm points at her, follows up with a rough gesture of his thumb and a shake of his head, and ends with his hands clawed and arms arched.
“<You’re not a monster>,” he says, and though they’ve both deemed the sign for the last word as ridiculous to the point where it seemed far more appropriate to finger spell it out, the somber expression he accompanies with using it makes the gesture seem a tad more serious in Celica’s eyes.
“You’re… right. Of course I’m not,” she says, though her tone belies otherwise; after all, she’s seen the glint of terror and apprehension in the eyes of the lesser nobility when they converse with and gaze upon her; she who possesses not just power over them by birthright, but because the power of a god long-since dead might possess her at any given moment— in that very same moment mere minutes ago where the arrogance of a royal subject tried her patience, and how can she not give in?— “but… —Alm, they… don’t see me in the same way you do… They don’t understand.”
And how could they? How can they see through violent bursts of violent flames; how can they hear the decrees of a silent king from the voice of his queen; how can they experience her kindness when all they do is whisper of the supposed monster that lurks beneath the surface mere footsteps from her listening distance? How could she make them understand when they refuse to give her the opportunity?
She intertwines his fingers with hers and brings them close to her cheek. Leaning into the warmth from the back of Alm’s hand like this, Celica can let out the tremble in her grasp through the shaky sigh she focuses on exhaling with closed eyes. Every count in her head, she can hear the tongues of purple flame that surround her ebb and flow, but it will be long until they finally disperse and disappear— when her mood sinks to this depth and lower, it always refuses to dissipate so quickly.
“I guess,” Celica muses, “… that you’ll just have to remind me many more times in the future… about what you see in me.” Her eyes hesitantly open; gone is the unearthly glow that often saturates her vision with the same wrathful red, blinding her with rage. “Can you… do that for me, Alm?”
Of course she didn’t believe it herself. Alm’s shoulders sagged in a silent sigh as air escaped his throat, the mild itch that always came with breathing now a familiar annoyance. She was bothered by this, he knew - of course he did, after all this time ruling together and, hopefully, a much longer time to come.
He snorted at that, driving the itch at his throat to near-wheeze levels, but not enough. A scowl marred his face, and Alm shook his head. They didn’t, but it didn’t matter right now. They would work on it, they could work on it, but at the moment... it wasn’t important.
What he cared about was her, and no aura or eerie eyes would stop him, they had not before.
She brings her hand and his own, clasped together, against her cheek, and he gently presses on it, expression changing from scowl to a gentle smile. His thumb started to caress the back of her palm, the contact like a soothing balm on his nerves and frustrations of their people - how they refused to see Celica for her kindness and love whenever they upset her, whenever she rightfully told people off who tried to take advantage of them for their youth and perceived inexperience. For his perceived weakness, despite his commanding presence, without his voice.
His eyes stare at her own as she opens them and gazes upon him, now calmer than the inferno they were before. His own hold only love for his queen, and his smile widens at her words. Pulling their joined hands away from her cheek, he moves his wrist so her hand is on top, then brings them to his lips, dipping his head and pressing a gentle kiss on the back of her hand as his eyes momentarily closed.
He did not wish to part his hand from her own like this, and being his dominant left, it rendered him, technically, speechless.
Thankfully, this did not stop him at all, he was too determined for that.
He nodded to reaffirm his conviction, squeezing their joined hands and leaning forward, lips brushing her forehead now instead. He offered her a cheeky grin once he pulled back, brows raising in a self-satisfied look akin to a cat who had gotten the best fish of the lot - and he pulled her close then with his right hand, mouth opening in a soundless laugh.
