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Their quarters are practically swarmed by nightfall.
"Do you really have to cuddle with all of them?" Prince Corrin huffs amidst the meowing, arms and legs crossed, tail drumming on the mattress with all the patience of a child. "I would understand one, two, maybe even three—but all of them?"
"I'm afraid it wouldn't do to play favorites with a crowd this excitable," Azura answers with a ticklish lilt, sprawled on the bed—their bed!—with enough frivolous feline friends to impress even their son. "I'd hate to turn the Gatekeeper's cuddy confidants against each other mere hours after making their acquaintance. Why would I force them to vie for something so limitless as my company and admiration? I can scarce imagine being so unfair..."
"Yeah," Corrin mumbles while fiddling with a lock of her hair, no different than the tabbies besetting him. "Unfair..."
"Heehee," the songstress hums against the calico nuzzling upon her cheek. "Especially when they're all so soft and silky! I wouldn't know where to start if I were to rank them. How could I rank them? I can't help but love their warmth and fluffiness in equal measure!"
"Fluffiness isn't everything, you know," the prince says, so stubbornly lost in his lover's hair—lush and flowing like the water she so coolly commands—that he remains ignorant of the curious kitten toying with his tail.
"Oh?" Azura halts her reveling to admire her not-so silent dragon. "I haven't heard an assertion so steeped in yearning since a certain lovestruck prince tried so awfully to convince me that scaly dragons were stronger, fiercer, cuddlier—and if I recall correctly, much handsomer—than fluffy kitsunes..."
The kitten starts at the abruptly hastening tail, retreating to safety as it thumps away with nothing short of flustered furor.
"It isn't like you to be jealous," the songstress says as she sits up, much to the litter's chagrin. "Usually... Goodness, is the big, strong, fearless dragon feeling menaced by a couple of kitties?"
"N-no!" Corrin stammers, the telltale tips of his ears reddening. "O-of course not! I-it's just, um, well, how do I... Gods, you know how the dragon in me gets sometimes..."
"Perhaps a little too well," she crawls over to him with a laugh, exuding even her most macabre of self-deprecating slights with an immensely infectious smile. "Come now, my sweet prince. Use your words. I'm listening."
"H-honestly," he looks away as she inches closer, his cheeks hot and bothered. "It's so silly, thinking about it with a clear mind and all. It's not even worth me getting so worked up, and yet.. w-when I see you cuddling those adorable kittens, petting them, nuzzling them, looking as blissful as you are... well... I-I mean... I... I just... thought that... well..."
Corrin lets the rest slip under quick, furtive breaths.
"Excuse me?" Azura asks.
"I thought..." he hesitates, ears wiggling as he commits the rest to a single breath. "I was your favorite...—!"
Corrin's tail stands as their lips meet, soft and sweet melting into a gentle, burning passion. He falls into the rhythm with ease, and returns the kiss with as much fervor as needed to fill the bestial void left by his silly, ebbing worries. Dumb grins and laughter lull them into a limb entangled heap—a dragon and songstress, surrounded by all manner of fluff and nature.
"Perhaps my difficulty with playing favorites," she whispers playfully in his ear, crimson to the point of no return. "Is more owed to the fact that I already have one."