Princess Aracelle tenderly kissed the palm of Zion's rough hand filled with calluses from the many years of hardships he had gone through in both Solterra and Pangea.
With a soft carpet beneath, she knelt before the seated Zion, who was looking down at her with an indifferent gaze.
The princess kissed Zion's palm a few times before gently flipping it over and kissing the back of his hand three times, as if making an oath that he was now her Master.
After that, she looked at the eyes of the young man who reached out to pat her head, as if she had done a good thing.
A faint flush appeared on the young lady's face before he laid her head on his lap, allowing the young man to continue patting her head with his hand.
No trace of her arrogance could be seen.
Her defiance look from the past had been completely replaced with a soft and gentle look as she enjoyed the happiness Thirteen's rough hand brought her.
