Paros reached out and took Rory's wrist.
"Do you… really not dislike me?"
Looking into his earnest eyes, Rory nodded firmly.
"I don't dislike you. If I did, I wouldn't want to bond with you."
Paros released her wrist. His long, slender fingers gently stroked her cheek.
"Then do you like me?" he asked.
This question was deeply important to him. Asking it made his heart race with anxiety—he was terrified she might say no.
Unlike Jasper, he hadn't decisively chosen Rory from the very start. Back then, he had no intention of looking for a female master, nor did he know Rory. When he first met her, he didn't think she was remarkably stunning, but she was independent and had a captivating smile. Especially when star coins were involved, her eyes would crinkle in a smile—just like a little lion, or a hatchling from his own Dragon Tribe.
She was rather cute. Being around her felt comfortable.
