like glancing at Nuka again for the first time, only there is something more. The dark mane,the determined eyes…

My youngest son is more like Scar than Nuka was, even though Nuka was the king’s true son.

The king is summoned at once. I have spoken very rarely to him in previous moons, as my pregnancy had apparently labeled me as an undesirable in his eyes – more so, I suppose, than I had already been.

Again, I am able to experience that look on Scar’s face, one of conniving triumph. He glares at my son, scrutinizing his every feature as though the cub might disappear from his sight at a moment’s notice, never to return again.

I tell him the cub’s name is Kovu.

To the lionesses that stand nearby, he speaks in an exultant voice laced with glee. “This cub,” he growls happily, “I hereby hand-pick to become my new heir. Once I die, Kovu shall reign over the Pride Lands!”

I believe I nearly fainted with joy, and I am brought to my senses again by a paw lightly touching the top of my head. I look up to find Scar there, glancing down at me, eyes shining.

“I have underestimated you, Zira,” he says to me. “He is not mine, but already he shows the markings of a great king. Come, let us retire to my private chamber, just you and I, where we may discuss our future…”

I cannot help but form a tiny smile at the corners of my muzzle, but I keep my composure enough to nod to my king. “Of course,” I say. “Whatever you require, Scar. Only the best for my king.”

And in that moment, I feel I have won over the lion with the scar. I am to him what he has been to me since that fateful day, when I saw his figure through the pouring rain.

My one and only.