It was early morning. The young crown prince had just woken up and had not yet had time to tidy himself up. Alistair was awakened by the call of his messenger hawk, Arrow.

Alpha sleepily runs his hand over his face, wiping away the remnants of sleep and unties the a message from his bird's leg. Alistair looks bohemian, wearing nothing but pajama bottoms, tousled hair, and an Apollo body.

The Crown Prince immediately understood who had sent him the letter and smiled slightly, catching the notes of pheromones from the letter.