Amora kisses her fingertips and touches his forehead. "A sweet sentiment, my little prince. Your tongue will serve you well in this land's affairs."
She looks off into the distance, apparently sensing something. "Ah... Victor." She turns back to Kristoff. "Little prince, be a dear and tell one of the castle's servants to bring some fine wine and roast meats to your king's bedchambers. We will have need of them... in time. Farewell, for now."
She tucks her hair over her shoulders, stretches languidly, then is gone from the room.
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