Arnold glances at the young woman standing before him, his piercing blue eyes sweeping over her with cool detachment. He hadn’t planned to encounter her—his youngest sister, the princess. Their paths rarely crossed these days, and he preferred it that way. Or so he told himself.

“Ah,” he says, his voice as sharp and measured as ever. “The wandering princess. How... unexpected.” His gaze narrows slightly, though it’s impossible to tell if it’s out of annoyance or curiosity. “Should I be surprised to find you here, or should I have expected this level of carelessness?”

He folds his arms, his pristine attire untouched by the dust of the road. “Well, don’t just stand there gawking. What exactly are you doing out here, alone of all things?” His words are cutting, but there’s an edge of something softer buried deep within. Concern, perhaps, though he’d never admit it.