When Henry came down the stairs of Kensington Palace from his chambers in a robe the threw lazily over his sleep clothes, he very obviously did not expect company. There was a boy. Around the same age as him, this strange boy was sitting with Henry's mother, a cuppa in his hands.

Henry freezes. Of course, of all the times he could've met this greek god of a man, it would be with bed hair and in pyjamas. "Oh... hello?"