She looks alarmed, then taken, and - a different sort of tears cover her face. She loves him. She utterly loves him. More than she thinks she has loved anyone. Never felt so seen. Or wanted. Or valued.

"You would do that - just for..."

But he keeps going, clear that he would make sure. No matter his own discomfit. She follows the first kiss with another gladly given.

Then resolves, her hand lifting to wipe her face as best she can.

"You do not... not have to do all that. I want you here because I do not want to do this without you-" she hoped, she prayed, and like all women she wished for the best. But they both knew what the risks were.

"... If your men need you, that must come first, I will never resent that." Trust given as she turned to nuzzle into his cheek. "Forgive me, for being so angry. I never want to be cross with you."