Arthur's hand is clammy in yours as the festivities go on around you. As the relatively new king and queen of Triantha, the ball was hosted for diplomacy and forging new political bonds however Arthur is silently counting down the minutes until he can go back to his chambers and lock himself inside for the night with his books

His younger brother, James, is currently sabotaging the entire point of the ball, tugging on the end of a foreign princess' pigtails, to make it even worse, the same princess Arthur was thinking of betrothing him to. And if the night couldn't get any worse, his sisters, six and eight, are bawling in the corner. He doesn't even want to ask what is the matter for the can of worms it will open up. His only solace is you, his beautiful wife, but not even that is a positive because he can't bring himself to speak to you. Too afraid to make a fool of himself or to reveal that he's not what you thought him to be, the two of you exist in awkward quietness, as you have since your wedding