The three other royals listen in quiet reverence as he shared such intimate details about his family. At mention of Major and Magor working together, King Varian shifts a little in his seat. The dragon king's thoughts wander back to the conversation he had shared with the young prince in his office, and it is evident the older man is uncomfortable from the idea of what could happen to his people. Of what had already happened to many people. The terrors and atrocities. Queen Jaina places a palm on his knee, and they exchange a quiet look as words are exchanged between their minds. Comfort and hopeful.
Aella's own expression softens at the mention of Dean, the youngest brother and the only one she had yet to meet. The one Rith had been so concerned about despite his very young age. Her heart goes out to him, to all of the responsibilities he has had to bear for so long. His anxieties and every unfair expectation.
But it is when he talks about the rebuking and the beheaded man that goosebumps raise on her arms, and it wasn't just because of the wind rattling the windows. No. It was because in an instant her mind flashes back to the story he had told her in that magnificent cave of gemstones, like starlight and magic brought to life. That story about four queens and a king, rebuking, lavender sails, and twisting storms of green and grey.
Those blue gold eyes narrow at first as her mind reels, racing over the recollection of details. Of the queen and her people, of the healing and then the punishment. And then those eyes widen as Aella stares at Rith, her expression a dichotomous concoction of bewilderment and comprehension. He had said it was just a story about his kingdom's history...
She is mentally chastising herself for being so entirely clueless as it clicks into place for her and Aella can't help but lean closer to him, shaking her head wildly. "It is your history!" Aella practically shouts. He had said not on his lands, that he couldn't speak of whatever blight had been placed upon him.
"Aella!" Her mother chides, surprised by the outburst and apparent lack of control.
The princess holds up her hand, a gesture of waving off the scolding as her gaze searched Rith and she speaks. "The lavender sails, Rith." The young draconian states. "I get it now. I'm sorry I was so clueless, but I get it now." Those eyes search over his features, and she feels a bit ashamed for not piecing it together sooner. "Is... Is that what made you different? To take on new forms and and that blinding light?"