Michael blinked at the sudden barrage of questions, then let out a small laugh. "I wasn't expecting an interrogation."
She flushed slightly, but didn't look away. "Sorry. I just… really like magical beasts. Especially flame-attribute ones. They're temperamental, yes, but full of pride."
Michael found himself amused—but also mildly puzzled.
"I've encountered a pride of them before," he said, then paused, his gaze narrowing slightly. "But Princess… didn't you receive a Flame Lion yesterday? From your father, I assume?"
His tone was casual, but his eyes flicked toward her face, searching. "Or am I mistaken?"
Arianne's cheerful expression faltered in an instant.
She blinked once, then twice. Her smile faded, and her brow furrowed in quiet annoyance. But her next words weren't directed at Michael.
"No," she said flatly. "You're not mistaken. I received it."
Her jaw tightened, and a visible tension crept into her posture as she folded her arms across her chest.
