The now familiar crackle of Hiro's magic flame catches Akito's attention and he turns his head slightly to see it. He doesn't have to do this for long as within moment the fire is traveling past his face, making him smile softly. The small flame animals are quite beautiful to the ex soldier and he sighs contentedly as he watches them drift by. [i]'He is quite talented. Even if he was not a prince, he could very well take up a place in the court as a magician. Or an artist with magic. . . .'[/i] His head turns again as he hears Hiro addressing his little furry partner and he lets out a soft chuckle.

He turns back to face the grass and forest, listening to his betrothed talk about the people he's met and places he's been, recognizing things here and there from his own travels. He comments on this occasionally, but for the most part he just enjoys listening to the other man, a calm expression on his face. He really does love listening to people, but as Hiro especially seems to enjoy having somebody actually listening to him, he finds the act more. . .intimate, than when he was listening to the boisterous stories the other soldiers would tell about battles or “prowess”.

He grows stiff however at the mention of the ruler from the previous war, his father having fought in that one as well. He'd heard the stories, and while no war is pleasant, the one before this last one was particularly brutal. The idea of the man responsible being at the wedding sets him on edge and he begins plotting to map every inch of the palace the same way he used to when planning a hit. Despite Hiro's vote of confidence that he won't show up, it does nothing to quell Akito's natural protective instinct.

Not wanting to ruin the mood however he keeps his thoughts to himself and relaxes a little, letting out a long breath. “I have been trying to put the idea of a bunch of powerful people I don't know being around to see me make a fool of myself out of my mind.” he admits, ducking his head. “I mean, I know how to walk ceremony in the streets, but. . .I mean, we have practiced a bit, but, it has always been, when not working, that I am a bit of a nervous wreak around people. . .” He glances over his shoulder. “As you may have noticed.” Laughing softly at himself he coughs, ducking his head down again. [i]'Well, I'm going to keep being that way if I don't at least [b]try[/b]. . .'[/i] Slowly, he reaches back with one hand and, ever so carefully, he locates his betrothed's hand and ever so gently laces their fingers together, sliding their hands out to the sides so they can keep sitting comfortably against one another's back. He is blushing furiously at this action, but he doesn't pull back or move away, trying to prove to himself that this [i]will[/i] be a reality and he needs to accept it.