It's a little distracting, actually, having Duv massage his hand. Distracting in a reassuring way. It seems easier to speak on this when he's not focusing on it too much.

Gregor of all people is obscurely comforted by the idea that he's not the first person to have this problem, that there must be resources they can utilize. "I imagine the Countess has a whole stack of them she's been waiting to throw at me," he says wryly, relaxing a little. Duv is always so to the point, no nonsense. The lack of ambiguity helps immensely, and drains the drama out of it, as being alone in his head with how ashamed he is of himself does nothing but make it fester.

"I..." He exhales. "I think it would be ridiculous to pretend it's not something I think about. So it's probably worth trying." Although he feels a bit like he's stepping up to the edge of a cliff by saying that. A moment later, he's annoyed with himself; it's been a lot of years since Gregor had felt haunted by the spectre of his father and his other relatives. He's most definitely defined himself now as Emperor on his own terms. No one compares his reign to anyone else's, no one sees the shadow of Serg behind him anymore. Not even Aral or Simon. He's sure of that.

Why is it still affecting him here? Why is he allowing that? These things are so hard to unlearn.