"Taming a monster, is it?"
The Duke of Draken studied the creature cradled in his daughter's arms, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.
He let out a low chuckle, more exhale than laugh. "I've seen a lot in my years… Your brother once tried raising a bear cub, remember? Got clawed across the chest for his trouble. And now here you are—going a step further."
He had always appreciated the art of falconry—discipline, tradition, control. But this? This wasn't a hawk or even a wild wolf. This was a monster.
His gaze drifted to the little snow lion. It whimpered faintly, its tiny body trembling under Alice's cloak. Despite its size, the silver mane already gleamed like frost under moonlight. That, paired with the icy glow in its eyes, made its identity unmistakable.
"A snow lion," he muttered. "One of the North's three apex monsters."
And now it was nuzzled against his daughter's chest, like a spoiled pet.
