She readies herself like there is great ceremony to it. Another sip of mead to help - it's been awhile since she's been easy enough, sure of her company, to even think about drinking or being this easy, but as she cups his fingers it comes easy. Battle worn fingers to his. But they are light, polite as she draws the tips of her fingers like she was following the lines to read something. Tracing where they intersect in feather light touches, spreading his fingers out to lay flat. In truth, it is not so much for show, done in fondness, a comfort more than anything. A game her ladies would play as they lay about - read to her things she already knew. Rani! Do you know you will have great prominence? Yes, your husband will be king!

Once she's finished looking, she sweeps her thumb across his hand to settle it against the base of his forefinger. "Here is your marriage to the Princess Olivia. Seems you have married well, Count." Bites at the tip of her tongue with laughter as she briefly looks up at him. Mischief is easy to her, younger in its brightness than she has much right to be, given how her time with the Cetagandan's has left her.

Hums, drawing down a line that extends from there. "You desire her very much. To that end, you will have sons and daughters." As much as she will broach, but what would a ruler be if they didn't push, from time to time - she reaches to follow another line, following it with the edge of her littlest finger in a way that's almost deliberately tickling, stops at the end, and gives a disapproving murmur, like she'd seen something upsetting. "I'm afraid however..."

Leans in a little closer, bending over the edge of the table as she does so to look.