Arthur sighed, the weight of the entire evening pressing down on him like an unshakable burden. He lay there, head in Rose's lap, staring up at the soft glow of the venue's chandeliers filtering through the trees. He had just been yanked through a full-scale royal skirmish, his existence fought over like some kind of mythical artifact, and now… now Rose was casually patting his head as if he were a particularly exhausted cat.
"Arthur," she said, voice gentle, "you feel bad about this, right?"
He exhaled slowly. "Yeah."
She hummed thoughtfully, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns through his hair. "I get it," she said, nodding to herself. "It's because you think it's unfair."
Arthur glanced up at her. "It is unfair."
"Is it?" Rose tilted her head, considering. "I don't think it is. I mean, each of us has our own unique advantage, you know."
Arthur blinked. "Unique advantage?"
