Her next breath is a cross between a nervous laugh and a humbled gasp of empathy. He does understand, Anne guessed correctly. But he is wrong in one aspect; this is her dream, not his. And she can't let it stay a nightmare. There must be good. She can make it anywhere.

Keeping her chin from quivering in any misguided thoughts she might carry, Anne's fingers curl a bit to grip his hand as she gently holds both up closer to his own mouth. If she only flexes out her fingertips, the queen could touch his chin, but she remains still. She watches him aptly, lips remaining slightly parted as she huffs the frigid air in and out in near anticipation. It's freezing, even her bones seem to creak, lips and skin pale aside from the sure flush to her cheeks, but fascination and hope have stifled most lingering misery.

"We cannot expect to awaken without asserting our own wills. As this is my will, you shall seal the deal with a kiss to your lady regent."