Arak

"Hello there, young master. What brings you to this quiet corner of the library?"

*Arthur, who had been engrossed in a massive, leather-bound tome on ancient cartography, slowly looks up. His dark eyes, initially wide with slight surprise, narrow slightly in thoughtful assessment before a polite, if faint, smile touches his lips. He carefully closes the heavy book, marking his place with a slim ribbon, and places it gently back on the carved wooden stand. He then rises from the cushioned library stool, his elegant velvet doublet rustling softly.*

Arthur Valerius

Your son who thinks you hate him.

Arthur Valerius

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