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.
"That beast—the one my father had delivered to me—wasn’t the one I asked for. I’d specifically gone to him a week ago and told him I was ready to contract a new beast. Something younger, something I could bond with properly. He smiled, patted my head like I was still twelve, and said not to worry. That he’d find the perfect Flame Lion for me."
She shook her head, her tone growing sharper. "Do you know what they brought me yesterday? An old male. Not just old—ancient. The poor thing looked like it had been through a dozen wars. Scars all over its body. And don’t get me wrong—he was strong, an early advanced stage beast, strong enough to make seasoned tamers hesitate. But he was dying. You could see it in his eyes."
Michael raised a brow, silent as he listened.
"The problem wasn’t his strength," Arianne continued. "I wouldn’t have minded a challenge. I’ve failed to tame stronger beasts before. But that lion? It shouldn’t have even been brought to me. It wasn’t a partner—it was a relic. An elder. It deserved rest, not another master."
She exhaled sharply, visibly trying to calm herself.
"It wasn’t until later that I found out the truth," she said, her voice low now, as if the walls might be listening. "Apparently, my father told one of the stewards to ’get her a Flame Lion.’ No details. No context. That steward outsourced the request to some beast handlers outside the capital—ones used to supplying the Duke’s personal zoo."
Michael blinked. "Zoo?"
Arianne nodded bitterly. "Yes. My father has a private collection of rare monsters. Some are gifts, others trophies. Some alive, some not. The handlers thought the lion was meant for that. So they brought the grandest one they could find."
She leaned back against the carriage wall, crossing one leg over the other, arms still folded.
"It was a misunderstanding, supposedly. No one thought to clarify the beast was for me. Not until it was already delivered, standing proudly in the courtyard with its wounds half-healed."
Michael was quiet for a long moment. Then he asked, "What did you do?"
"Gifted it back to my father."
Michael blinked, then gave a small chuckle. "That’s one way to say, ’Thanks, but no thanks.’"
Arianne tried to hold back a smile but failed. "I told him he could add it to his collection. It’s not the lion’s fault, after all. He deserves a place where he can rest in peace."
Michael nodded, respect in his eyes. "Wise choice."
Silence lingered between them for a moment. The steady hum of the carriage wheels filled the quiet, accompanied only by the soft jingling of reins outside. Michael didn’t rush to fill the space. He leaned slightly back in his seat, watching Arianne out of the corner of his eye.
Then, casually—almost like an afterthought—he said, "If you still want one... a Flame Lion, I mean. A young one. Not too powerful. Something you can raise yourself..."
Arianne glanced at him, curious.
Michael didn’t look at her directly as he continued, his voice smooth, almost indifferent—almost.
"...It would be better if I can see how you tame beasts. How you form that connection."
Arianne blinked. "You want to watch me tame a beast?"
"I’m just saying," Michael replied with a faint shrug, "it’s only now that I’ve become curious. It’s not every day you meet someone who speaks about magical creatures like that."
A beat passed. Then Michael’s tone softened just a touch.
"But if it’s not something you can do... if that’s beyond you, then I apologize for asking."
Arianne straightened, a spark of pride flashing through her eyes. "No," she said firmly. "It’s not beyond me at all."
She leaned forward, hands clasped together over one knee, the earlier irritation forgotten—replaced by a low-burning excitement.
"I’d love to show you, actually. It’s rare anyone even asks how beast tamers do what we do. Most nobles either don’t care or assume it’s some fancy bloodline ability."
Michael ’quirked’ a brow. "Isn’t it?"
"It’s not at all," she said, grinning. "True beast taming takes more than just a family name."
She paused, eyes narrowing in thought. "But some knowledgeable people also don’t realize that even if you do learn the method, it doesn’t mean you’ll succeed."
Michael nodded, filing the information away. "So the knowledge isn’t that secret?"
"Not really," Arianne admitted. "It’s like swordsmanship. The basic forms are known, but how many people actually master it? It’s the same with taming."
Interesting, Michael thought.
However, just as Michael was about to say more, a voice from outside the carriage came.
"Your Grace, Your Ladyship," the voice called respectfully, slightly muffled through the thick wood. "We’ve arrived."
Arianne perked up, smoothing a strand of hair behind her ear. "That was faster than I expected."
Michael, on the other hand, simply sat still for a moment.
He exhaled softly. "So this is where the evening truly begins."
The carriage door opened with a gentle click.
Arianne descended first, her steps light but confident. Her silver-and-midnight-blue outfit shimmered faintly under the lanterns, turning more than a few heads.
And when Michael stepped down behind her, silence rippled through a nearby group of younger nobles.
Most just saw a stranger with an aura that screamed danger. Calm. Unapproachable. Eyes like polished emeralds and a presence too sharp for someone without a title.
"Let’s go," Arianne said, casting him a glance over her shoulder. "Try not to act too interested. It makes the sharks circle."
Michael offered the faintest smile. "Don’t worry."
Together, they walked toward the estate entrance.
As they passed through, Michael glanced once at Arianne.
"I’ll hold you to your promise," he said.
Arianne gave a half-smirk. "To show you how I tame a beast?"
"No," Michael replied, his gaze flicking forward. "To make this evening... interesting."