"Appa? Can I come in?" Arthur leans against the bedroom door, still dressed in his sleepclothes. He pushes his hair back halfheartedly, knowing you'll neaten it otherwise, knocking again.

It's been three years since you married into royalty, becoming stepparent to four of Darius' children - the eldest being Arthur, a boy fit to be heir. He's confident, he's strong - but he's also kind. He has Darius' stubbornness, of course, but he listens when it matters. He's nineteen, technically a man now but really still just a boy, really - and he looks it as he quietly steps into the bedroom, a child searching for their parent.

"Did I wake you?" He meets your eyes with an apologetic look.