Playing with Fire

"Ah... ah no. No... I didn't sleep very well, so wanted to do things myself this morning to wake myself up. Besides I-- I'm a bit snappy, in the mornings, if I don't get enough sleep. I didn't need to be making her upset because of something I said." Carina was quick to make up her excuses, eyes remaining on him through the mirror as she fiddled with the hairbrush still in her hands. "I'll be fine, I didn't always have a maid to help me get ready in Eira. I'm sure I still remember how to dress myself." She smiled reassuringly, even if it was small. Not because of the lack of sincerity to her words, but because she still remained uncertain as to where they stood.

With his next announcement on his councilmen arriving soon, Carina stood to move to the wardrobe, paying him no mind as he went to his usual spot. Of course she still kept him in view by the corner of her eye, that nervousness to let him out of her sight still present, but not so much that she needed to stay facing him head on.

"They shouldn't be dictating to you. You should be dictating to them. You're the king, you should tell them that they'll meet you when you say." She murmured, reaching into the wardrobe to pick out an outfit for the day. It was going to be a difficult balance to find, since she would need to find something between comfort and sophistication. Class and yet soft on her sensitive skin.

Exhaling heavily, she eventually settled on a dress that she would accompany with Ignisian jewels, still ensuring to comply to his demands back a few months ago. Even if this was all one big game he was playing again now, this would not be one of the things he would punish her for not doing.

Shaking her head to his offers of help, Carina moved to stand behind the changing screen in her room, hesitating there just after. Both due to his words, and also the memory of the last time she disrobed with him in the room.

Clearing her throat, the young queen forced herself past the discomfort the memory brought on and began to change, determined not to be the reason why they were late to this meeting. His men would already be looking for reasons to kick her out or berate her. She would not give them any easy points to pick at.

"I-- I have always believed that... That you Ignisian were... Have better access to your emotions. Shorter ropes in which they are the end of, I suppose?" She confessed, stumbling over how best to explain her thoughts. "In Eira... I knew my mother loved me. I knew the sibling love... Emmett and I had for each other. But apart from that. The ice did not just rest on the Eirian landscape. My father was the worse and... And got worse as the war went on."

Carina threw her nightgown over the top of the screen so it rested there, reaching for the undergarment soon after.

"And worse again when-- when mother died. We'd... Get such a tongue lashing if we cried, if we got angry, if we just... Lost control of our emotions." The dress Carina had chosen for the day slipped off the screen and she looked down at the material in her hands, frowning at it," He'd never hit me though. Knew it would look badly on him if he did, knew... Knew potential suitors wouldn't look kindly to a bruised peach or a princess. Instead... He used Emmett. Knew I couldn't stand being the reason--"

Carina cut off quickly, realising just where things were heading. That she was exploring and revealing dangerous knowledge to him. Sven already knew she harboured a deep and powerful guilt regarding Emmett's death. He didn't need to know how deeply rooted it was.

"A-Anyway... What I'm saying is that... Emotions don't come easy to me as it is anyway. To show I mean. Perhaps not anger and frustration but..."
 
As he returned to his spot beside the window, he found that the revelations that were expelled from his mouth brought him further relief; allowed the heaviness that clung unwelcomingly to his chest was starting to be chipped away more and more with every word. They were confessions that no soul had been party to before because of the man's inability and refusal to trust anyone with that information. Even Thorin, who had personally been witness to some of Sven's parents' cruelty to him, didn't quite know the extent of it; that those harsh words and insults weren't all his parents had cruelly bestowed upon him.

That they were very often combined with physical torment that Sven had kept to himself for over a decade.

Why he was finding it such a relief to reveal the information to Carina in particular was something he knew the answer to, but didn't want to admit to aloud. He couldn't allow himself to admit that he wanted her to know everything about him - the good, the bad and the ugly; that he cared for her so much that he desired a fresh start with her, a place to start building memories that weren't clouded by pain and hurt. He could only do that with total honesty, and while confessing the abuse he had suffered would relieve him no matter who he told it to, there was something about confessing to Carina that allowed him to feel more at peace because rather than manipulate her with lies and deceit, he was being open; exposing his vulnerabilities and trusting her not to use such information against him.

In return, he liked hearing Carina open up. He didn't specifically like the content of her admissions because it only served to make him feel horrible for her on her behalf, but the act of her opening up was appreciated. In this instance, he felt a little more uneasy than usual because of the guilt her words brought up. The memory of cutting her brother down where he stood and then leaving his departed head on a stick to torment her during her night in the dungeons hadn't plagued him until a month or two back, when his feelings toward Carina started to stir.

He didn't like to heart about the closeness the siblings had had when he was responsible for bringing it to an end; of ridding her of the one person she had loved dearly. He wasn't accustomed to feelings of guilt so he wasn't entirely sure how to alleviate it - or if it he ever could. In some ways, he felt like he shouldn't be freed of that guilt. It was punishment for his crimes, after all; him being tortured by the nightmares that visited him and the guilt that riddled him in his consciousness felt like a justice of sorts. As unwelcome as the guilt was, he felt like he ought to deal with because he wasn't... a good enough person to be free of its hold on him.

"...I'm not sure if my words are... entirely welcome. I know I have apologised and I also know nothing I can say will ever be enough, but I... I deeply regret my actions, Carina. If I could take them back, if I could... go back and act differently, if... if I could tell the man I was then that I would one day be plagued nightly and mentally tortured for what I did, I wouldn't proceed with laying a finger on your brother. I-- I regret hurting him, and hurting you in the process. I just-- I'm sorry," he offered quietly, this apology arriving when he was entirely sober and capable of clear thought, rather than the drunken admission from a man who was past the point of coherence.

"As I said, I don't wish to continue crying in your presence so let's not dwell on admissions of horrid childhoods and... and whatever else. I like talking to you, I do, but I can't walk into that room with those old men with tears staining my cheeks. I won't live it down," he smirked as he discreetly wiped his eyes, using his hand to wipe over his face to cover his subtle action.

"...Are you ready for this? I wouldn't blame you if you decided against joining me, but I maintain the fact that I need you there. I'd inevitably bow to the pressure - I may be the King but... I'm a coward when it comes to them; they remind me of my father and... I did whatever the man asked of me in fear. I admit that those men in that meeting room-- they scare me, Carina. Laugh at me, ridicule me, but I want to be honest with you; you deserve honesty from me."
 
"I--... I... acknowledge... your apology." Carina spoke up from behind the screen, having remained there after she had gotten dressed and he had started on his apology. She didn't dare come out when she realised what it was he was about to say, not wanting to have to hide her own reaction but then also not wanting to see his face while he did so. It was a difficult one, as she knew they had said about trusting each other just the other night. Yet it was hard to, knowing what she knew about him and how much of a master manipulator he was.

Clearing her throat, she sat on the chair behind the screen, slipping her feet into the slightly heeled shoes she had in order to not look too short. It was hard to be intimidating when looking short and round, that was for sure. Not to mention, with the men they were due to face, Carina knew she would need to make herself look flawless. They couldn't have anything to pick at.

Wincing slightly, she pushed herself back to her feet, not wanting to dwell on his words regarding his murder of Emmett. The Carina a few months ago would have demanded to know what he thought she had been going through for the past thirteen months. He spoke of torture and nightmares, he had his own guilt, of course. But then there was Carina's, which she felt as the older sibling being unable to protect the younger one. It was also her plan, her ambition and desire, that got Emmett killed. She would forever wonder: if she had simply behaved, would her brother still be alive now?

She would never know.

Taking in a deep breath, she walked out from behind the screen to return to her vanity table, pulling open one of the drawers once she had sat down at it. She pulled out a flat jewellery box, mind still dwelling on what to say, and she was grateful he moved on as she took out the necklace to clip around her neck.

"I made a promise, didn't I? I said I would support you, and I shall. These men... they are archaic, they are dinosaurs. Their time is coming to an end and ours is about to begin." She stilled her hands at the jewellery box, eyes raising to his reflection in the mirror and watching him for a moment, "You will not bow to them ever again, not... not... not so long as I am by your side."
 
Though Carina had an ability in recent days to instil a confidence in Sven and ease the insecurities that seemed to have sprung within him as of late, her reassurances that the men were archaic in nature and needed to be moved along to make way for new, current ideas was appreciated but did little to stop him from the nervousness coursing through him. He had no reason to fear the men that were below him in status; who he could send to the dungeons or merely dismiss from their posts without needing justification for doing so. Technically, they had no superiority over him, no right to even question his judgement when they didn't hold roles as advisers.

Yet they were remnants from his father's rule of Ignis; men who had been at his father's side since he first came into power and remained loyal to him right until his death, where they assumed that their collective influence would be more than enough to perpetuate the ideas and beliefs from their former King's reign. And thus far, they found Sven to be the pushover they always assumed him to be, easily talking him into situations he might not have come to without their influence; forcing him to undertake plans he didn't feel comfortable talking of.

But he had failed to defend himself against them because they reminded him of his father so much - and when he had been met with furious punishment whenever he bravely attempted to defend himself against the former King, he didn't want to invoke the anger of five men at once. Even if their punishment wasn't physical, they still had ways to reprimand him - and plotting against him, stirring up support to the claims that he was an unfit ruler, was the one fear Sven knew they would act upon if they had to. Or simply use it as a threat to continue to rule the kingdom through him.

The nervousness only increased as he made his way through the castle to one of the large rooms his father had usually designated for meetings with the men - and not knowing how else to go about it, Sven had continued the tradition, however uncomfortable he was sitting in his father's old chair with the man's portrait looming down over him from above the nearby fireplace - a fixture of the room that he knew he couldn't remove without serious consequences from the old King's friends who would raise a glass to it after every meeting in respect to their departed friend and King.

The five men were engaged in whispered discussions at the table when Sven made his appearance, barely acknowledging him until one of the group noticed the Queen at his side, his mouth opening in sheer disbelief at the audacity of both Sven to invite her along, and of Carina for daring to accept it. The man in particular remained silent as he observed the two taking their seats at the head of the table, adjusting his monocle quietly with a faint glance at the other Lords to see similar expressions of shock and outraged disgust marring their features too.

"...Sven. What is... your wife doing at our meeting? This is no place for a woman; particularly not an Eirian one. With all due respect, have you gone quite mad?" He murmured, voice barely concealing his rage as it trembled, his fist forming at his side as he glanced up at the looming portrait of his old friend in disbelief, finding Carina's presence in the room where so many important discussions had taken place to be a direct insult to the former great King. "...His Majesty will be turning in his grave at these most unfortunate events so I must ask that she leaves this place at once. I cannot undergo discussions regarding our plans whilst she is sat here, disgracing this sacred space."

"...I invited her. She is... She is your Queen so you will show her the respect she deserves, Humphrey," responded Sven slowly, reaching for the pitcher of wine at the middle of the table to pour himself a glass - a move that only caused a faint scoff to arise from another of the men, who casually returned his fingers from twirling the ends of his moustache to set his palms flat on the table.

"Is it wise for you to be drinking, Sven? After your little... escapade the other night, I'd have thought alcohol would be the last thing you'd wish to consume. Your hangover surely can't be eased already. From what I heard, you were positively paralytic," the dark-haired man smiled, the expression innocent though the raucous laughter his remark caused allowed that smile to deepen into an amused smirk. "You cannot handle your drink like your father could, it seems."

"I... I think i can manage a... a glass of wine," stammered Sven, cringing at the mistake of letting himself stumble over his words - it only encouraged further derision, inevitably. "...Really, James; let's not descend into childishness, shall we? I... I-I wish to d-discuss... business today; not chatter inanely about my... d-drunkenness two nights ago."
 
The young Queen was quite used to the stares and expressions of disgust that were often thrown her way, thirteen months of becoming immune to looks that suggested the other person wanted to kill her, harm her or simply hated her would come in handy here, it would seem.

However that did not mean she was prepared for just how poorly behaved the men were to their own king. Automatically her mind went to Lauren and the plans she once had with the other young woman, at one point eager for the meeting to be over so she could inform Lauren of just what it was like for the king in his own meeting room. Yet she quenched it quickly, knowing that that was no longer a part of her life. That she was... Attempting to turn a new chapter with Sven. So long as he didn't turn against her as she feared.

Her eyebrow raised as her gaze flickered, almost lazily, over the men before her. Unlike Sven, Carina held no nervousness or anxiety. These men were not her councillors, she had no reason to fear them or hold back on what she had to say to them. She was, ironically, there to support Sven rather than help belittle and berate him like these men were doing.

"If you cannot undergo discussions regarding future projects or... Invasions in my presence, then please feel free to leave. Your King, and your Queen, will make make such decisions and implement them with or without your blessings. You are not the ones who control things anymore." Carina drawled, easily slipping into the cool persona of a queen she had been portraying since all was revealed the night of the wedding.

Her eyes then narrowed slightly at the comments regarding Sven's walkabout period. Her back straightened in her seat and the index finger and thumb of her one hand slowly rubbed together. "I don't believe you are one to be lecturing your king on alcohol intake... James, is it? As I recall... You were passed out on our kitchen floors before dinner just five days ago. You were also found in one of the horse troughs another 6 before that." Her lips pulled into a smirk, "Need I continue?"

It had been extremely helpful to have Lauren's network of gossiping maids to supply her with information. She would have to figure out an alternative soon, just to ensure she had decent stream of information in which to use against the men before her.
 
The annoyingly self-satisfied smirk that had been fixed onto James' face disappeared within a mere few seconds as Carina spoke, the expressions of his fellows falling from amusement to shock within a similar timeframe. He had accepted insults from Sven during the King's brief attempts at retrieving the superiority from them and asserting his (rightful) authority, but his pathetic efforts had been brushed aside with little to no regard to the content of those words - he barely remembered the insults now, but he knew they must have been part of an abysmal attempt or Sven would be sat in the room currently, displaying the power he had once tried to retrieve.

He had failed in that endeavour, and it had remained in the collective hands of the five men sat present before him. They were content with the way things were run in the kingdom, seeking to uphold the traditions that had been set in place for centuries and popularised by their friend who had been (in their eyes) injustly taken from the world well before his time.

Why they wouldn't want to share the company of Carina when tradition dictated that women had no place during political discussions seemed rather obvious, so Carina's refusal to leave in and of itself caused deep discontentment to spread amongst the men... though it was her insults, spoken with such calmness, that got under James' skin and encouraged his anger to spark.

"...You may have a child of Ignis within your womb, my dear, but do not think that you can talk to me with the fire that is synonymous with our kingdom. You have no right over me; you are simply an orphaned princess whose only purpose in this land is to provide it with heirs. A broodmare. Your pathetic attempts at engaging in politics when you are a female, with a female's mind, is... laughable if it wasn't so unbelievably pitiable," he retorted without the calmness she possessed, his words spat out venomously as he forced himself to sit back against the chair, his hands now enclosed into tight fists for all to witness.

"...You have no right to be sat here amongst men as esteemed as my fellow Lords here. You're only good for birthing children, so I recommend, my Queen, that you take yourself off to bed and rest; you are getting ideas well above your station and I'm willing to assume that these delusions are made in tiredness."

A silence fell after the last remark, with Sven's mouth opening and shutting in quick succession as he fought, desperately, to find something to say in response; to cut the man down from such disrespect and defend Carina. Yet the sharp glint in James' eyes, and his equally sharp tongue, caused the King's confidence to dwindle horrifically fast, sinking back into his chair with shoulders dropping, looking less and less like the proud, confident King he had wanted to be.

"Now, we really must get on with the discussions so as soon as you waddle off, we can get back down to business-- do try and hurry, my Queen."
 
Carina stared at the man, allowing his words to fall onto his skin, but not once did they pierce her as she was certain he wanted them to. She had dealt with men like James in Eira before her kingdom's fall, and had survived her time in Ignis which had seen much worse said and done to her. So if this little Lord thought he was about to send her running with a few harsh words about 'where she belonged'... He truly had another thing coming.

Her eyes remained locked on his for a few seconds, and then those seconds turned into minutes. The silence dragged out and Carina couldn't care less about Sven's lack of support, despite her being there in the first place was to offer him her strength. It was also, if partly, the reason why she stayed sat down.

Suddenly, a smile broke out over the young queen's lips. Calm, eery, icy. Clearly these men had forgotten what she had done back six, seven months ago. The executions she had control over no longer lived in their memories. They seemed to forget that she had no loyalty to them, and they in turn had no hold over her. They had no right to boss her around, to belittle her or try and squeeze her out of a room she had full right to be in.

"The only deluded one in this room is you, little Lord. And your delusions seem to be regarding your belief you can order me around. And your king, for that matter." Her hands moved, one to rest on her belly while the other slipped under the table to give Sven's knee a firm squeeze.

Carina didn't dare label it as an act of reassurance.

She then stood, the sound of her chair scraping against the floor deafening even to her. "The word pathetic can be used to describe your attempts to belittle me. You neglect the fact that I am not the broken little princess you want me to be. Your beloved, deceased King failed to make me crack. You definitely will not. If you believe Sven is not fit enough to be king... Then I can certainly tell you that you are not fit for that title either. No matter how desperate you are to have that power."

Carina took a step forward, leaning slight so her hands could press against the surface of the table, "I do not, and will never, take orders from men like you."
 
"You don't want to test me, girl. I assure you you won't be standing so audaciously before men of our stature if I truly desired to hurt you; do not tempt me," the man retorted as he observed her stand from her seat with a flash of anger at the continued disobedience she presented to each of the men, in a room as sacred as this. He had hoped that she would have learnt her place in the months she resided in Ignis, married to Sven, but apparently she was as feisty and as disobedient as she had been the first day she had been dragged into the land.

And for that, he only had Sven to blame. It was his duty to tame the girl, after all. That was his wife and her poor behaviour was no doubt a reflection of his inability to control her; her sharp tongue and refusal to accept the collective superiority the men believed to hold over her emblematic of Sven's weaknesses and flaws.

That of which were becoming ever more transparent to men like James. Contrary to what Sven believed, he wouldn't seek to get rid of the man despite him not quite reaching their expectations of what a King should be because he had proven thus far that he was easily influenced and bent to their will and demand without too much questioning. It was purely out of fear and discomfort around the men that caused Sven to give in in such a way, and that had only given James the slice of power, a taste of leadership, that he had always desired.

Only when the child was born would he ever consider concocting a plan to remove Sven from the picture, and Carina too. The latter was a force he didn't need complicating his political desires, and could easily begin to influence the former to turn against his father's old friends - removing them from the picture as soon as he could seemed the wisest of choices. Hopefully, they would bring a son into the world; a young orphaned royal who wouldn't get his hands on the throne until he was old enough to do so, with James -and the other archaic men- having collectively ruled in his place until then - and possibly take the throne from its rightful owner altogether.

Those were the plans he had started to formulate, at least, and he wasn't going to allow Carina to get in the way, nor belittle such ambitions. He wouldn't admit to them aloud but he feared he was transparent in her eyes when she seemed to determine easily what his intentions were.

"...Are you going to allow your woman to talk to me like this, Sven? After all I have done for you, all the guidance I have offered you across these years; the training I have personally undertaken with you. Are you going to allow this treacherous little wench disrupt all our plans and ridicule me with confidence she ought not to have? I-- am awfully disappointed in the weakness you're displaying. Tame your wife, be a goddamn man for once. Like your father was."

"...Is that your idea of what being a man, and a husband, is? To tame my wife? To overlook her guidance and ignore her comfort because you feel she has a particular place she should remain in?" Sven eventually questioned as he brought himself from his silence, leaning forward in his chair with a sudden intensity within his eyes. It wasn't clear what had sparked it, whether it was the squeeze at his knee or the misogynistic, archaic mindsets from the men, but either way, the young King returned to the conversation with a faint smirk on his lips. Not that it was a sight that the other men ought to find comfort in when it coincided with a faint simmering from beneath his clenched fists, the smoke that gradually rose from them unsubtle - at first.

"...This is your last warning, James; all of you. One glare at her, so much as a mere scoff in her direction, and I will not hold back from burning one of you where you sit - and I will gladly encourage Carina to freeze the blood within your veins if this disrespect to your King and Queen continues. I'm sure you have no qualms in making use of your powers should you need to, Carina? Because I feel that might be required of you in a moment or two."
 
"T'would be my pleasure... it seems as though some in Ignis have forgotten just what I can do..." Carina drawled, eyes slowly trailing over James' body now as if envisioning just what sort of tortures she could create for the Lord to suffer through. She straightened, and clasped her hands behind her back, being quick to hide the fact that the bracelet remained on her wrist despite Sven's words.

If they had been in a more loving relationship, one that had actually been all about loving and caring for one another from the start, Carina was certain that she would have sat down and leaned across to press her lips to his cheek. She knew she still could, as simply an act of a wife who had been tamed by her husband - just like she had behaved at the aforementioned executions. But with their new dynamic, the act would not be something to spite him and would simply feel too odd to carry out.

So instead, Carina just sat. Slowly lowering herself into the seat and smothering a wince as a sharp pain caught her unawares. These men could not see any expression of pain. They would only use it against her.

Exhaling softly and gently rubbing aching spot of her bump as inconspicuously as possible, Carina did allow her free hand to reach out and slip under one Sven's. A quiet act that seemed submissive, however she knew that he would know it was there for reassurance. His skin was rather hot to the touch, and she was certain if she had her ice, her own skin would be sizzling as a response. She had known it before, but with them both now standing up to the men in the room, she realised how contrasting, but therefore complimentary they would be with this. It... called to her. It seduced her.

It made her wonder just how good they would be as leaders.

"Now... shall we begin? We've already wasted plenty of time and you've already made us miss our usual breakfast." She spoken nonchalantly, leaning back into her seat with the one hand still rubbing at her bump, "For future reference, don't ever move a meeting with us again. You will see us when it is a good for us, and not for you. So next time you consider moving a meeting to simply suit your needs... don't."
 
The fact none of his so-called friends opted to defend him against a mere Eirian girl who had ideas above her station wasn't merely an annoyance to the man; it was a downright disgrace and as he reluctantly settled back in his chair, he couldn't help but send a glance up at the portrait looming over them and thinking how disgusted the man would be if he was here to witness his only child's behaviour. He was siding with his wife and allowing her presence in the sacred meeting room where great plans that had gone down in history had been forged; defending her and threatening violence if she wasn't treated with the respect that James would rather die than offer her.

But for a moment, he chose to hold his tongue. He didn't believe a word of Sven's threats. In spite of the smoke unsettlingly rising from his fists and the discomfort the heat caused for the nearest man to the King, he couldn't fathom the young man actually acting on his words - not when he had only proved to be a pushover in the months they had worked closely together - or rather, in the months where he told Sven what he wanted to happen and let the King follow his orders without hesitation.

How could that weak boy be the same one to apparently hold true to his threat of burning them, or sitting back and encouraging his wife to do the work for him? Simply put, James refused to believe any of the words held a note of truth to them so as surprised as he was by the threats, they only served to amuse him.

"...Regarding Hullbury, which is why we're gathered here, I... I have changed my mind on the plan of action. I know longer seek to attack or conquest that port town. Through trade, through discussions with the town's Duke, we can instead form a... an alliance - they can benefit our kingdom greatly and we can aid theirs. It'll be useful to... to the future of Ignis if we can show that we're willing to work with these other places; it'll be a new... phase for us but one I'm eager to embark upon--"

"...Excuse me? Is this... this must be a joke, mustn't it? You... surely you cannot be serious, boy?" Muttered Humphrey, setting his monocle down on the table when realising his hands had grown shaky in the sheer disbelief. His milky blue eyes drifted in dissatisfaction to Carina, having no doubt that she had influenced Sven to come to his ridiculous conclusions, a vein sticking out in his neck as he struggled to hold back the inevitable flash of rage. "I have w-worked hard to prepare plans for this attack; months of hard work regarding that town's defensive capabilities and how best to exploit them-- I will not have such work stamped over in favour of-- of trade negotiations?! We are Ignisians; we do not sit down at meetings with other kingdoms and discuss business, Sven--"

"We do now. I am not having my child rule a kingdom that makes he, or she, fear for war at any moment. I cannot fathom the idea of my... son or daughter heading into war like I did; risking death and for what? To... To take over an innocent kingdom for the sake of being able to boast about being the best? It's-- unnecessary and we will not be undertaking such measures. My child is going to grow up in a kingdom that works with its neighbours; not one determined to start wars for no justifiable reason--"

"She's behind this. That witch at your side. Did you pretend to be in support of you, soothe your insecurities with false words? She's a serpent, and she'll strike when the time's right, Sven. She's... not an ally; she's the enemy within. She'll stab you in the back and twist it deep," responded James as he snorted under his breath, eyes narrowed at Carina. "You've really done a number on him, haven't you? You-- karma will catch up to you for this, mark my words--"

"Is that another threat, James?" Sighed Sven with apparent dramatism as he made a show of tutting under his breath, one hand resting on the table as the other, once holding Carina's hand, moved to unclip her bracelet subtly. His eyes caught hers briefly, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he seemed to encourage her to do as she wished - these were men whose deaths he would have caused himself months ago. He had given them chance upon chance and there was only so far he could truly go before their stubbornness and inability to accept him as their King -and Carina as their Queen- became a headache. He was the fool for persisting with the effort to convince them - and after their downright disrespect and persistent threats, he had a justifiable reason to act on his own.

They had been warned, after all.

He sighed as he eased himself from his chair, wandering around to Humphrey and resting a hand on his shoulder, seemingly without any malicious intent. It started slowly at first, nobody in the room aware of anything for the longest of seconds other than before Humphrey began to panic, clutching at his chest and blinking hard in an effort to cope with the explosion of pain within him. His mouth opened but no words would leave it; not even a scream as he fell forward onto the table, hands desperately clutching at the cloth. And then the cause for his distress became known; horrifically so. He was burning from the inside out, organs melting within him and causing blood to pool from every visible orifice - his ears, nose, mouth and even eyes began to bleed crimson. Not that Humphrey was alive to experience such agony - he had collapsed and passed before the flames had consumed him entirely, the corpse burning in place without affecting its surroundings before finally, the flames ceased and the charred corpse of the outspoken critic remained.

"...Carina. You don't need my permission but... you have it nonetheless; do what you wish with James."
 
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It was the first time she had ever seen Sven use his powers in such a drastic way. Of course she had seen his hands turn into flames, the smoke rising from clenched fists, the singed bathroom door when he stormed in on her. However, never had she seen this kind of agonising punishment before. Despite her best efforts, Carina couldn't help but stare on with parted lips and wide eyes as she watched Sven kill one of the men who he had just hours before wanted to keep on side. A man he had once been intimidated by and struggled to reign over.

It caused her to wonder if his earlier words had been true. If he truly did lack the confidence before to face these men, and having her support allowed him to go forward and commit such an act. It made her question if his earlier emotions were real, or if he truly had been manipulating her again all this time.

However, it was the lack of bracelet at her wrist that gave her pause. If he truly was manipulating her again, would he really have given her the opportunity to see through James' end? Surely he would have preferred to have done that himself, rather than give her that opportunity. Of course she knew, months back, he had been impressed with what gruesome ways in which she could kill a man. Yet that didn't mean he would provide her the chance to utilise her powers for just that once more.

Her eyes slid to James at Sven's words, holding onto the lord in question as she considered what to do. She wanted nothing more than to make him suffer. Carina could envision what she would do so clearly: she would wrap her hand around his throat and freeze the inside of his windpipe, leaving him choking and gagging for air that would never reach his lungs. However, that would mean being in close proximity to the man, and he had made it perfectly clear what he thought of her. While she knew no Ignisian would harm the future heir she carried, if James knew he was about to die, what care would he have about harming both her and the child?

"He's bored me... besides, I think I would much rather like to see him suffer the same fate as his so-called friend." She lifted her chin in a defiant manner toward the lord, eyes narrowing afterwards, "Let him know the new King of Ignis holds more power than the little lord believes. I want to see him reminded of the strength you possess."
 
"This-- This isn't-- there i-is truly no need for such violence, Sven-- your majesty, there's-- really no... no need to give me the same treatment, I apologise unreservedly and... and seek to... serve you, and your Queen. I... I take back anything I might have said that-- offended you; offended... her majesty too," murmured James in a panic, the smug confidence that had once seemed a permanent fixture on his countenance now vanished, replaced with the urgent desire to protect his life. He would have dashed up from his chair and left the meeting room if he had the chance to do so but Sven stood too close to those doors - and making that desire to leave before he had been permitted to do so would have been another mark of disrespect against his character.

And so he remained, with the other men, sat at the table in fear and confusion, doing their best not to peer down at the corpse of their dear friend - though the smell was less avoidable; a horrid reminder of the death that could greet them if Sven continued with his sudden vengefulness.

To say it was unexpected would be the gravest of understatements. He would have assumed that Carina had twisted and warped his King's mind with words dripping in honey, convincing him to use his flames and remove that inner circle that had, for so long, maintained an undeserved superiority over Sven; enjoying ruling through him when he hadn't appreciated, nor necessarily agreed, with the archaism of their plans. And yet that look on her face, the shock carved into her expression, made James come to the conclusion that this was a sudden switch in Sven; that he had pushed him to the edge and had now seen his friend reap the consequences of their actions.

Though he still blamed Carina for it. Had she not been present, Sven would have backed down as he had done countless times in the past. Her presence instilled in him a confidence that had never been present in him in their company; a confidence that had resulted in one of James' dear friends dying in such a horrifically painful, torturous way.

"I... I beg of you, this isn't... necessary; we can talk this over, like men..."

"So now you seek a civilised discussion? You were quite content with the plans to conquer an innocent town, seek to destroy their peaceful existence and slaughter their men and women, but one of your own is killed and your mindset changes? That's... interesting," smiled Sven as he paused to take his glass of wine, taking that moment to peer across at Carina and her apparent support in him making light work of James' death as he had Humphrey's. He had removed her bracelet to see her take his life, considering the foul words he had thrown at her, so he had no reason to keep it off now she had turned down that action herself... but he didn't. He simply set it down on the table, cracked his knuckles calmly and wandered across to James who grew more frantic and less composed at the oncoming King.

All efforts at maintaining the regal air vanished as he flew up from the chair and made a beeline to the door in the desire to save his life, though the realisation that he was to die was prompted the moment he felt Sven's hands either side of his head. Unlike Humphrey's rather quick demise, Sven intended to cause this man suffering. For the first time in months, he felt like he was... himself; like he had finally realised the person he was after so much personality shifts and being someone he was expected to be. He had the confidence and viciousness that he had had in the past, and yet maintained the new realisations that Carina had helped him come to; he could be sympathetic, emotional, vulnerable... and still have the confidence and strength that he had shown so powerfully in the past.

As much as he had evolved and grown, sparing these men wasn't something he was capable of doing... and why would he when they deserved to die? They were the last true remnants of an archaic kingdom - without them, Ignis could evolve just as he had. Become a kingdom he would be proud of his son, or daughter, growing up in and coming to rule themselves.

Though his hands had resided either side of James' head, the sadistic streak in the King showed itself the moment he reached for the other's hand. There began the screams, James unrestrained in vocalising his agony as his wrist was slowly burned through to the bone until the hand fell from the body altogether. Delirious with pain, he barely acknowledged the same being done to his other hand until the flesh burned through to the bone once more, until the hand followed the same fate as the other had. The feeling of getting his own back to the man that had persistently thrown his weight around in the kingdom for decades was indescribable for Sven; it lightened his chest and erased his fear to finally bring forth James' demise after being pushed down by him since he had been a child. He had been belittled, looked down upon, ridiculed; all things that had grown worse when Sven came into power and was seen as a pushover; a mere tool they could rule the kingdom through.

His comeuppance had been a long time coming but it had finally, at long last, arrived.

With both hands consumed by flames, that of which obviously didn't affect him, Sven reached forward for the man's neck, squeezing hard like his life depended on it until the head fell to the floor, decapitated from the body it once was part of. Shaking his hands free of the aching within them, Sven returned to his seat and to his wine, smiling calmly at the other three men who remained at the table, fearful for their lives.

"You're dismissed now - remove yourselves to the dungeon or I will have you killed for disobedience. You'll be put on trial for your disrespect towards me and your Queen; a fair trial, but one I can predict won't end well for you. Now-- leave. I'm bored," he drawled calmly as he eased back against his throne, watching the three men scurry over themselves in the desire to escape. Only then did he let himself relax properly, his chest heaving as he took in breaths tiredly.

"...That... wasn't the, ah... meeting I... anticipated. But we don't need men like that at our meetings, discussing politics with us. They're remnants of my father's kingdom, and... Ignis isn't that anymore. It's ours. We can lead as we wish," he muttered behind his wine glass as he took a hefty swig to ease his aches, realising a second later that he spoke collectively; plurally, and smiled to himself at the naturalness of his comments.

"I... couldn't have done this without you, Carina; you saw how pathetic I felt in front of them. You-- You truly don't realise just how... wonderful you are, do you? Or at least, you don't realise it is how I feel towards you; how... proud I am that our child is going to call you their mother."
 
The killing of James was brutal. Horrific. Vicious. Stomach-turning.

It was something Carina had never seen of Sven before, once again, and she had to wonder if this was how he felt when he watched her go through some of the different ways in which she could kill with her ice. While she had attempted to prepare herself for whatever he decided to do to the other, older male, there was nothing she could have done to prepare for what she witnessed.

Her breathing hitched, and then spiked as the screams started and the scent of burning flesh and bone stained the air. Her stomach rolled, bile churning at the smell that only grew worse the longer Sven drew out the statement he wished to make. Carina wanted nothing more than to run to one of the windows and fling it wide open. Perhaps even stick her head out of it to release the bile that wished to escape. But she couldn't tear her eyes away from what she was watching, nor could she allow her strength to waiver in front of the remaining men at the table. This was all happening because two of them didn't like her presence. She now had to prove she was strong enough to be there.

Even once Sven was finished, the grisly conclusion leaving a tense and deadly silence, Carina's eyes remained on the spot where James once stood. She had resorted to breathing through her nose, knowing otherwise the burned flesh smell would translate onto her tongue, and that would not help with keeping her composure.

The young queen blinked a handful of times as Sven returned to his seat, suddenly aware of the chills that had broken out over her body due to the increased heat in the room. Automatically, Carina sent a whisper of ice through her veins to cool herself, only to then realise what she had done. As Sven spoke to those that remained, she lowered her hands to her lap where, from there, the one gently rubbed over the wrist over the other. Feeling the lack of bracelet.

Her eyes then turned downwards onto the spot where the bracelet once resided, slightly wide as she attempted to comprehend all that had just happened in a matter of minutes. As he began to talk again, and Carina realised he was speaking to her, she lifted her head and her gaze to settle on him.

Instead of saying anything, she stood from her seat to move to a window, doing as she wanted to do earlier and throwing it open. She then proceeded to drink in some of the fresher air, although it was still relatively stagnant since the air was still contaminated by the heat and ash from the volcanoes. She leaned against the wall beside the window, much like how he would stand next to the one in her bedroom, and allowed her eyes to close in reflection.

"I-- I do hope that not all meetings will be like that," she finally quipped, eyes opening and body turning slightly to face him. A hand moving to rub across the front of her swollen belly, "I... I'm not sure that sort of intensity all the time will be good for-- well, any of us." She laughed weakly, drawing on her earlier learnings in Eira to hide her fear and anxieties regarding what she had just seen.

His words were also something she didn't wish to react to. She knew she had to trust what he was saying to her, that he meant what he said. But... it was all too lovely. Him telling her how wonderful she was? That she would be a great mother. That he was proud for her to be the mother of his child.

It was all too different. And Carina just... didn't know how to react, fearful that if she became comfortable it would switch back and he would be laughing at her for believing him once again. Or... hopeful, for a future she might be able to share with him and their child.
 
Sven was more than aware that his actions would have unnerved and even scared Carina, but he had no way of restraining himself when this was something that he just needed to do. After months of continuous disrespect and belittlement, his anger and resentment towards them was bound to explode at some point - he just needed someone to reassure him of what he was capable of and give him the little push he needed to set everything into action, and that person in the end had been the last one he would have expected: Carina.

But simply resigning the worst offenders of that treatment -Humphrey and James- to a life behind bars would never have occurred because killing them seemed like it was always destined to occur - and it was the one thing he needed to regain that confidence that had been missing from his demeanour for a while now. He had missed that side of him; the part that knew the position he held and walked with the confidence that it brought him. That confidence had been chipped away at for the longest time, leading him to resent the life he held because he felt like he was powerless; weakened and a simply pathetic excuse for a leader.

He had the confidence back to feel powerful again, the fire that ran through his veins that had been expelled from them in the most horrific of ways reminding him of the things he was capable of... but he wasn't going to megalomaniacally assert that rediscovered confidence on those who didn't deserve it. He had evolved and grown past that need to stamp his authority down on the innocent in order to make himself feel like the all-powerful leader he was. He accepted his flaws and vulnerabilities and didn't need to mask them by manipulating others and deluding himself into thinking he only cared about himself.

Because he didn't and only now could he accept that fact and realise it didn't make him weak nor vulnerable.

Who he was now was who he had fought for years to be, and he struggled to believe that he would have reached such an understanding if not for Carina. And for that, he would always be grateful for her.

"It was something that needed to be done. I... I feel better for it. Renewed. Not to be dramatic about it, but I feel like... I'm finally at a point where I can accept who I am, I suppose. I feel... good about myself; about my future. Our future, in fact. I think-- I know that we'll be okay, Carina. This kingdom is all the better for us in it," he smiled quietly, the determination to fulfil that desire more evident than ever in his eyes which strayed to the looming portrait above them. Without hesitation, he leaned up to remove it from the walls, hesitating just briefly at the incredible likeness the portrait had to his father before sticking his foot through the picture and breaking the wooden frame in two, letting it rest in its pieces on the floor.

"...I think-- one of my paintings would look up there. Speaking of, would you allow me to paint you or have you decided against my offer? I... I would like a portrait of you somewhere in this castle. My own portrait will need painting soon but I won't ask the artist to paint you; I want the honour of doing that. I want to be the one to paint your portrait - it'll be a nice story to tell our son or daughter when they're older."
 
Carina was grateful for the moment that Sven rose from his seat to go to the fireplace which was just off to her side. It allowed her a reason to turn so her back was to the table, and therefore to the sights that awaited her there. Even with the window open, the smell of crisp, burned flesh still lingered in the air and that alone was continuing to make her feel nauseated. The blood and the sight of the bodies wouldn't necessarily phase her, it was the way in which they had been killed, which unnerved her and sent her stomach rolling.

"You may... experience some backlash for this, aren't you concerned about that?" Carina inquired, a hand resting on the window ledge as she studied him, morbidly curious about this new Sven. It had been so odd to see him so meek and easily belittled by the men in this room, when outside of it all she had seen was his harsher, crueller side. He had been a completely different person, but yet again changed because of her, one could argue. Carina had to wonder if it was something about her that brought these sides out of him, and again she considered how long it would be until she saw the brutal, manipulative Sven.

After what she had just witnessed, Carina was certain that there was nothing he could do now that would shock her further. Yet she was still mildly surprised by the destruction that followed, even if her expression was relatively passive. It was a hard habit to shake, once she knew to apply it. Not showing her emotions, or rather being cool and collected, was a habit she was certain she would find difficult to shake off. They truly would be a contrast to each other in every way. But perhaps she would be able to actually learn something from Sven, and she would soon be better at revealing her every emotion to him.

As the topic of painting was once more brought up, Carina was quick to avert her gaze back out the window. The muscles in her back strained as she masked her lingering discomfort at the idea of such an intimate setting. She had only had her portrait done once when in Eira, and that was for her sixteenth birthday.

It had been a long, awkward and uneasy affair. She hadn't enjoyed sitting so still for such long periods of time, nor did she enjoy the lingering gazes of the man that had painted her. She knew that was what painting was all about, but it felt like his eyes remained in areas for longer than necessary. The memory of that, and then Sven being the one to continuously stare at her for the painting, to stand there and notice all her flaws and bumps and inconsistencies... the idea was rather unbearable.

She swallowed thickly, eyes closing against the bile she had just quickly swallowed back as a waft of charred skin caught her unawares.

"Perhaps... perhaps we can have this discussion elsewhere. I-- I'd like to talk through what-- what your expectations are of your desire to paint me and just... why you have them all of a sudden." She confessed, finally looking back to him, "I would also have a few... conditions, should I agree to... allowing you to paint me."
 
"Do I have a reason to be concerned about treasonous bastards who no doubt have been plotting against me being killed at my hand? I'm sure people will understand, Carina. They... would have gotten rid of me the moment our child was born, I'm certain of it. They'd have me killed and made to look like an accident - or blamed you. Our child would be raised by them, moulded into their vision of a perfect ruler. The backlash I receive, if any, will be worth it," came the quiet response from the King as he wandered across to the bodies, seemingly not as concerned by the horrific murders nor the smell of the simmering flesh.

Rather than react to the stench, or the horrid appearances of the corpses, he calmly pulled one body across to the other and nudged the pieces of James that had detached from his body to the pile with his foot, not caring to touch the decapitated hands nor head when it would be far too messy. He had no real need to make things easier for whatever poor servant was left to deal with the state of the room but he wanted to make the effort. Just because he wasn't disturbed by what he had done didn't mean anyone else wouldn't be.

Even Carina, who had personally executed five men singlehandedly in inventive, cruel ways, seemed perturbed by his methods - so any servant would inevitably feel that way too, and the least he could do for them was pile everything up together for easier removal.

"...You can't abide the smell, hm? Understandable. Let's leave, I... shouldn't have really murdered them with you present. That's a downside with my power, I suppose. Ice would have killed them cleanly; accurately. Fire... has its perks, of course, but... it's a tad more troublesome; has its unfortunate consequences. Such as the smell. But... less said about it, the better. Come on, let's get out of here," he encouraged with a quiet smile, nudging open the door and holding it with his foot until the two had exited the meeting room. With a brief gesture to a passing servant up ahead of them, he spent a few seconds explaining that bodies were to be removed from the room and to do so without hesitation, only expanding on it to ensure that the three men that remained alive were in the dungeons as he had ordered them to go.

With that sorted, he cracked his knuckles calmly, enjoying the peacefulness in the corridor in comparison to the screams that had horrifically rang through his ears just minutes prior.

"You're the Queen; you need a portrait. And I just happen to want to paint you. You've... overthinking it, Carina. I just want to put my portraiture skills into practise; I haven't had a chance before. I've done self-portraits but I want to test my talent out on a subject. I decided that... you seemed to take an interest in my art before. I decided that you would want to see it in practise," he shrugged quickly, a smile reaching his eyes as they flickered down to her curiously.

"What are these conditions, then? Because honestly, the fact you would need conditions in the first place tells me you aren't entirely comfortable with this - and that's fine, Carina. My portrait will be painted soon; we can wait until then, have my artist paint you instead. I really have no interest in forcing you into a situation you'll find uncomfortable - not anymore, at least. Evidently you don't believe me, which... again, is fine. I expect that distrust; it's understandable."
 
"Un...unfortuantely not. I wish I could blame it on the pregnancy but..." Carina confessed, unashamed to do so after having attempted to block out the noises of him moving the bodies around by physically sticking a finger in each ear and squeezing her eyes shut. Childish, and definitely something that could have been ridiculed if he chose to pick up on it. Yet for the sake of keeping the bile from making a grisly appearance, she took the risk.

The moment they left the meeting room, she released a long breath of relief. Her shoulders visibly loosened in their tension yet the tender rubbing across her stomach didn't stop, the habit an unconscious one now that Carina made when anxious or attempting to relax herself. As if relaxing the baby, who wouldn't have seen a thing, would help relax her. But she supposed that if it was true that the child could hear her talking, reading out loud or singing... then it would have heard the tortured screams of James and Humphrey.

A trip to the library would be needed, if only for her to ready nursery rhymes or sing lullabies in an attempt to get their unborn child to forget about the noises.

She kept her eyes on the corridor as they walked through it, heading - finally - toward the breakfast they should have had before the meeting. Although Carina was grateful that it had been moved to before food, since she couldn't have known if the contents of breakfast would have stayed down after what she had just witnessed.

"I'm overthinking it because a few months prior you sneered at the mere thought of me being in our child's life," she answered honestly, "I'm overthinking it because, even after everything, I still fear that you'll change your mind and that painting will be just some metaphorical object that'll be destroyed the same day I will be."

From there, Carina stopped abruptly in the hall and turned to face him, hand resting upon the swell of belly. "I'm not going to apologise for my continuous doubt of you, Sven. I'm sure you'll appreciate why I'm still dubious, as I'm also certain you may harbour your own doubts about me." Her hands then raised to entwine fingers together, pulling at them as she worked on what to say next.

"I... I'd want to be painted in library. It's become my happy place and hopefully... hopefully it'll lessen the discomfort I'd feel. I will never have some random artist paint me... if anyone will... it will be you. I-- I'd like some regular breaks, so you're not... you're not staring at me for such long periods of time. I-- I can't do this if our set up is like that. If I start feeling uncomfortable, I want to be able to get up and move around. And... and I don't want to wear Ignisian colours. I-- I can't. I've worn them for you in person, but I can't allow myself to be painted in them. But I will... be respectful and not dare ask for Eirian colours. Something... neutral. Something new.... something to symbolise... new beginnings."
 
The inhalation of the fresh air outside the meeting room wasn't subtle and caused Sven's eyes to glance to his side to witness her breathing it in, just as she had expelled the air she had withheld whilst in the room. He wasn't mocking her, nor did he feel a desire to, but he did feel the corners of his lips perk up at the thought of how she would have reacted had they sat for breakfast first. He no longer felt pleasure at her discomfort or pain, but the alternative scene in his head was one he couldn't deny finding just a little amusing.

He pushed such thoughts away before his amusement became too obvious, not wanting it to be misconstrued as a slip of a facade. He held no such disguise these days around her - what she saw was genuine and he was intent on keeping it that way. But when she held a distrust towards him, as she went on to admit to, smirking for apparently no reason could seem questionable as though that mask had slipped slightly and revealed the monster that had often resided beneath it.

The fact he didn't even feel comfortable smirking at his own ridiculous thoughts in her company was upsetting... but he knew he just had himself to blame so complaining about the unfairness of being distrusted wasn't going to help matters. He had caused that distrust and doubt, and he had to work hard to regain it.

"...The library was going to be my suggestion anyway so that works for me," he eventually spoke once taking in all of her conditions, not daring to interrupt when she was in full flow. None of the conditions were outrageous or anything he couldn't automatically agree to, his excitement starting to creep in now it felt like the portrait had been given confirmation. He didn't need to vocalise it aloud for it to be obvious just how big of a deal this was to him - he wouldn't only be revealing the news to those within the castle that he enjoyed art and had a talent for the subject often deemed too 'gentle' for an Ignisian King to undertake, but his first portrait was to be of Carina. The first person he would ever paint in front of was the other and it felt fitting.

He had always kept his talent to himself for obvious reasons, and he had never envisioned ever showing a painting to someone, let alone creating one in front of them. It felt... right that she would be his subject, given it was Carina that had been such a vocal supporter in him following his talent and not caring who knew it. That support meant more to him than he had admitted to, so being able to repay her for that kindness, even just having the chance to do so, meant... a lot to him.

"I wouldn't mind you wearing the blue of Eira but... you're right, this should be a symbolising of something new-- Oh. Oh, I know," he suddenly grinned, holding the door to the hall open as he briefly let his eyes wander over the breakfast table in search of the pastries he dined on each morning.

"You can wear purple. Royal purple. We... We're a force; a union. The red of Ignis; the blue of Eira. I think... combining them is... I think that'll be the symbol for the future. No domination of red, nor of blue, but a combination of the two. Or is that really dumb? I'm no fashionista but I think i'd look better in purple anyway; it'd compliment my complexion," he laughed again as he settled at the table, reaching instantly for the coffee he had been craving that entire morning; more so after the use of energy in the meeting room. "Just an idea. Feel free to ridicule me for it if it's too soppy."
 
Her hands came to rest on top of the chair at the other end of the table, the place she had taken constantly in the month during his odd and inconsistent behaviour. She knew she had no reason to sit there now, as Carina was beginning to believe that his words about change were truthful. But old habits die hard, and she still found herself lingering there for a moment as she debated what to do. Even simple things like their seating arrangements would speak loudly about where they were out in regards to their relationship, she knew that. Sitting at the end of the table would be hypocritical to what she had said about trust and support.

So Carina removed her hands from the top of the chair, and moved down to the other end of the table. From there, she sat on her usual side, to his left, and picked the seat closest to him. Her eyes moved along the breakfast foods on the table, attempting to figure out just what she wanted, as she convinced herself to relax in her new place.

That didn't mean that Carina wasn't entirely comfortable, knowing that Lauren would be working in the kitchens at this moment in time. She, quite obviously, hadn't mentioned anything to the other girl regarding this new position with Sven. But words wouldn't matter, if the maid was to come out during their breakfast time and hear the conversation that was being had.

"Purple..." She repeated softly, finally reaching forward to pick up a carafe of apple juice to pour some into her own glass. As she mulled over it, she helped herself to some eggs and bacon, craving the salty crispness as soon as her eyes settled on it.

It would definitely make a statement. Wearing purple in a portrait would make people question if the kingdom's colours would change on a whole. It was a questionable leap to make the people take, if they took to the idea at all. While Carina had spoken about appealing to those who didn't agree with the constant invasion and pillaging and fighting... she had to wonder if changing the colours of the kingdom at the same time as changing their tactics on expansion would cause some backlash.

Her eyes raised to him as she washed down some bacon with a sip of her apple juice, gaze flickering over him curiously as she finally had a moment to look at him properly.

"I think it's a good idea," she finally agreed, smiling slightly, "You know... purple means royalty. It means... power, ambition... but it can also mean peace. Pride. Independence." In that moment, Carina's hand twitched in her lap, the only sign that she considered reaching out to rest it over his before she caught herself. Instead, she stilled it, but allowed her smile to broaden slightly.

"I think... it's a perfect way to move forward... together."
 
The silence that reigned between them as she contemplated his words felt like an age; an eternity, even, and when combined with her hesitation regarding the seating arrangements, Sven wasn't entirely sure he could hide just how invested he was in something that really shouldn't bother him. She could choose where to sit without offering up any explanation for doing so, but they both knew that her decision would affect their promise of trying to carve a new future together: one of civility, decency, forgiveness and, importantly, trust.

Her sitting anywhere other than at the chair directly to his left, or to his right, would indicate a significant lack of that. It would signify that no matter how many emotional heart-to-hearts he had shared with her, and his protectiveness of her in the meeting room just moments ago where he had quite literally torn apart two men for insulting her so bluntly, that none of it mattered.

That she still distrusted him as much as she did when he openly despised her and made no secret of that fact.

Under those circumstances, the decision that ought to mean little in ordinary circumstances meant a great deal in theirs and though he picked apart at his croissant with nimble fingers like every morning and took gentle sips from his steaming cup of coffee as though he wasn't paying much attention, the truth was that he felt like he couldn't properly breathe until she reached a choice. Even if that choice went against him and their promise of a better future together, it would at least put him out of his misery because clinging so desperately to the hope that she would trust him, and make decisions exemplifying that, was starting to physically cause an ache to grow in his chest.

Though he had been determined to act casually, the grin that spread on his face when she eventually took her seat was unsubtle in its joy - but he failed to care even if he felt his cheeks ache with the wideness of the smile. He didn't verbally address her decision in case she abruptly changed her mind in recognition of it but he did nod to her just once; a brief gesture in gratitude that she was putting action to her words and trusting him - as he would do with her.

"Purple is... I think it's a wonderful colour to promote unity between us, for our kingdom, and for our daughter-- or son. I have to stop doing that. I'm just... almost entirely convinced it's a girl, but ignore me. I've been so wrong about so much that I won't go making bold predictions, but... it's a girl, I know it," he shrugged with that same grin, letting it fade just slightly behind the coffee as he considered what she had feared from such a change - a backlash from the people he was determined to start giving more respect to and helping to better their lives in a way no Ignisian royal had done before. The people were often treated as mere inconveniences until they were needed for wars or crowds for celebrations. Not much effort had ever been made to improve their lives, which was why poverty was so rife and suffering a shared experience among most households.

He wanted to change that, start making policies that would actively better them and their livelihoods... but replacing the emphasis on purple instead of the crimsons and reds that had always represented the kingdom would be a huge change, and one he wasn't sure if they would understand. He wanted a new start for everyone - a rebrand from the ways of the past and a look to the future, one not dominated by the oppressive reds but represented by the peaceful, proud purples.

They might not understand it at first, but he wasn't going to readjust his opinion when it made sense to him - and if Carina agreed, he knew he was onto a winner.

"Purple it is then," he agreed as he reached for a teaspoon of jam to slather across a piece of his croissant, pausing from taking a bite when he took in the smile on the Queen's face.

"...I rarely see you smile like this. It's... weird-- not weird! I mean-- it's nice, I like it! It's just... I don't think I've seen you smile like this before, it-- really is nice."
 
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