Her aborted attempts at standing break his heart, and he falls gracelessly to his knees, rucking up a wing and throwing it over her back in an attempt to hold her close and comfort her simultaneously. It's done with hardly a second thought, his first instinct being to protect and heal. He doesn't know what to say, at first, as she begins speaking. However, a part of him is aware that she's not finished, and so he lets her fall into silence for the time being. Sometimes it was best when he was in her position to have time to gather his thoughts, arrange them into something he could speak without doubting what he meant or worrying about having to stumble and trip on an explanation in the middle. Midas had imparted that on him, with his eloquence and infinite patience. It was one of the few things he'd given Cera that the Prince still carried around with him, as much as it hurt.

A pale muzzle reaches for him, and Cera meets it firmly, assuring her that yes, he's there. She's not alone, and he is there to help and support her. She has nothing to fear from him. His path was as tormented as hers, though in far different ways. For a moment he longs for Ilaria, who was always far more logical than he and helped him through these situations. Cera was often ruled too much by his heart, and she balanced him perfectly. Instead, he breathed deep and prayed for the strength to carry himself and Aurelia through her sorrow.

It took a few long minutes of silence after her sudden confessional to understand the story she'd just spun for him. There was a moment of discomfort over the fact that Ryuu had not even been mentioned, but it was his not past, nor his broken mind. He had promised not to judge her, and he wouldn't. Though there was no real question phrased, he assumed she needed help regardless, and so he began to speak.

"You hold too tightly to your past, Aurelia. Even those who were tyrannical rulers, who killed and pillaged, can learn to be better. But you have to let go. Hold it in your mind, never let yourself return to that kind of state, but the more you cling to it the more it festers and destroys you." Cera had experienced plenty of that when he was attacked by d'Artagnan, and the scar across his chest pulsed as if fresh, reminding him of how he'd felt the seasons after he'd nearly bled out in the forest. It had taken time, but he had been able to return there eventually. He'd even made new, better memories that had built on top of the fear and hatred he'd felt that morning.

"It's not easy, and it takes time. But you can't change the past, Aurelia. Ruminating on it will only drive you insane. Instead, look forward. Focus on building a life with Destry, on making friends and helping your herd. Keep yourself in the present, until the past has faded enough for you to deal with it properly." He nuzzled her gently behind the ears, breath washing comfortingly over the base of each like a fatherly touch intended to bring about peace and understanding. Midas had done so to him as a colt, and it had helped him find a center, find his metaphorical footing and think over what his father had told him. Cera hoped he could have the same effect with Aurelia.