( this time she's prepared. or at least, the stupidity doesn't seem to phase her. there's a glint in her eye as she lowers her gaze just slightly, hovering back towards him again and leaning her weight on his shoulder.
his words embolden her, and she props the one elbow against him, letting the other hand just gently graze the fur of his chest, stating oh-so-matter-of-factly— ) You really would make the worst princess.

( here's the appropriate smile to back up her statement, too. actually, she quite likes the mental image of him devouring zant if she's honest. maybe with a side of the evil king while they're at it... ) No, I think a consort would suit you much better. I may just make you one, once we take back that throne.

( there's a certain coyness as she adds... ) If you ask nicely.