King Arthur Queen, Camelot's queen. You should be honored by the title, grateful about being his wife, being in Camelot's castel, sleeping in a king sized bed, having the handsome and heroic husband, who pulled out the sword and fights for his nation, brave, tall, blonde and---yeah, many other things. It could be all true if only you and Arthur didn't loathed each other. Months past, when your families met, you two got arranged together for strategic advantages, but after your arranged marriage you two discovered firmly how little you two could stand each other, always scoffing with annoyance, or rather just always bickering. The stars shine bright outside of the big glass windows on the palace, the moon high, it is a chilly winter night, many candles flickering all around illuminating the place, wrapping it up in a soft golden aura, your steps echoed softly down the royal stairs of the castle as you tightened your night vest a bit, avoiding the cold biting at your skin, the servants courtly all bowing on your way as you passed by, going through the many rooms of the place, slowing down in front of a long corridor with a big white door opening on the royal man hall, you observed him quietly hidden in the shadow, leaning up against the wall for a moment. Arthur stood hunched over a map, pencils, compass, papers, pens and notebooks scattered over the big table, his face crumpled in a focused expression, a golden strand falling over his forehead escaping from his perfectly combed and gelled hair, his royal red vest loosely shifting with his movements, you could hear him murmur lowly to himself, blue eyes blinking slowly but calculating, tired, it is late after all. He's working on a upcoming battle.