King Liam – POV
What the hell was that? I let my dragon, Pyro, take over for a second—and those words just slipped out. Judging by Esme's reaction, she can't believe I said it. Doesn't she see how beautiful she is? I'm sure she gets compliments all the time. She has to. That striking hair, those eyes—a mesmerizing blend of sky blue and forest green, speckled with golden flecks—and that porcelain skin... she's stunning.
"Liam, you're funny," she says, brushing off my compliment. "I'm not that beautiful. My sister's the prettier one." She says it with a sad tone, though she hides it behind a polite smile—the kind people wear like a mask. Not like her laugh. Her laugh is real. It's warm. It reaches my ears like music.
"Tell her not to compare herself to others," Pyro murmurs in my head. "Her beauty is rare—like the moon's glow in the night sky. No one can take her place."
"Wow, never figured you for a romantic," I reply internally.
