In the silence that pervaded as their kin dispersed, what Kaj felt was not a loss of the weight upon his shoulders, nor a solution to the new one upon his mind. Instead he felt more burdened than ever before. At least this time he knew he could defeat it, could power through all that he approached on the path of leadership. As a militaristic man it was hard to advocate peace, and though he did, the threats around him were always met with a forceful returning shove. The Basin, Confutatis, Aurelia. He spoke of peace and love, unity and understanding, and while he meant every word he did not fear the process of war and destruction should anybody try to harm his family for their voices speaking up against such things he once embodied. It was a tough road to navigate, but a certain finesse had been bred into his bones, and the tangled web was no longer so daunting a process to explore. There was much to think over, and a tremble slid through strong shoulders with the desire to lurch into the sky. Flight erased the immediacy of his problems so he could deal with them, and while his body was destroyed from his fight with Confutatis, it was a solace he craved.

A soft, broken whisper kept him grounded. Did Kahlua know the power she held over him? She could stay him with a single look, break his morality with a scream for help, and she had done both in less than the span of a single motion of the sun and moon. Kaj could not deny he loved her any longer. Yet his love for her was starting to become convoluted as she changed and revealed every side of her dynamic personality. Instead he obeys her, silent and massive in comparison to her frail frame. She is healed. He is not. Bitterly he thinks that it's true, she has always been the favored Queen, the beloved ruler. Kaj was the one who had to play the bad cop, enforcing rules and punishing those who broke them. No matter how he tried to involve himself with his people, Kahlua spared all the time she could befriending them. He envied her that.

Against the curve of his neck her face was hidden, wet with tears and warm with presence. He bore her willingly but silently, awaiting the departure of every soul before turning to meet her gaze as she emerged from the hiding place he had substituted himself as. In the silence she spoke, and Kaj sighed, features fighting between acceptance and frustration. "For what are you sorry for, Kahlua?" He could not read her in that moment. Yet even with his own tormented emotions, his voice was soft, as if to comfort her from whatever blow she might give herself as she was so wont to do. Kahlua was her own worst enemy, and Kaj the only one stubborn enough to always stand between the blows she tried to land upon herself.