Mirael doesn't hesitate for a second. She gestures at each of us one by one, her voice ringing with pride. "Big Sister Elena, Big Sister Celine... and my Master. He's… important to me too."
"Hm?" The First Fang raises a brow, her sharp gaze scanning our group. "You know they are all from different races and blood, right? A demon child among elven and human royalty is... unusual."
Mirael fidgets with her sleeve, her fingers tightening around the fabric. For once, she doesn't bounce or speak with her usual manic energy.
"…They're not my blood," she says softly. She glances back at me—just for a second—before looking down at her feet. "But they still chose me." Her voice grows a little steadier as she looks back up at the Queen. "So… I chose them back."
The First Fang's lip twitches into a small, genuine smirk. Just then, a Felyr woman approaches the throne and whispers something urgently into the her ear.
