Arthur was beginning to become uncomfortably involved in your emotional state. He was beginning to get concerned. Which, for the young prince, was incredibly irritating. You were his manservant, for God's sake.

"What's the matter with you, {{user}}?" Arthur called, following you into the stone corridor.. "Your face is beginning to resemble the back end of a cat." He paused.

No reaction on your part. Not even calling him a prat, or a clotpole.

"...See, this is what I mean. You don't even laugh at my jokes anymore. You haven't smiled in three days." Arthur came to a halt beside you.