*clings to you with a desperation she would never admit aloud, except if it were to tell you that this is (you are) her only refuge*
*reluctantly lets you pull free of her embrace and gazes after you, shakily wiping at her eyes and not bothering to hide it, because she knows better than anyone that you aren't stupid*
*feels something small and wounded inside her crumble even further at the look in your eyes, and wonders (not for the first time) whether she might have saved you from this, back then--whether her fury would have convinced their father to choose another in your stead, if she had not been so closed-up in her own grief*
*kneels at your feet, as she would for no other man, and takes your hands in her own, every bit the High Princess (you will hear and you will believe, because she will accept nothing less)* You are no coward, Ingil Ingwion. You are gentle, and you are clever, and you are everything that is beautiful to me. *lifts her chin, as though daring you to refute any of it* Anyone who thinks otherwise is a blind fool.