It was, perhaps a good thing he was not yet made aware of the brutal passing of his mother, nor of Levi - not that he and Levi had ever shared a private moment together, despite being the label as brothers. He would have been the closest thing that Arvid would have considered for a Regent, based on his age alone, though - and did find it odd that he was not present, especially lately, but did Arvid assume that meant Lord Pissy Pants was dead? No. Of course not.

Fleetwood steps forward, throwing him in the same age group as her own children, extending her paw, and Arvid looks to her paw and then to her eyes. She’s in agreement, but now he feels foolish for saying something. He’s supposed to be the king! His ears flatten, but he can’t tell if he’s seeing things or if she’s crying.

Did he make her cry? Shit. She offers him to be a kid. A kid? He scoffs, and looks away, embarrassed, still. Not really rejecting her - but not knowing how to accept her without making it look like he doesn’t want this life, too. Because he does, in some way - because it’s the life his Dad wanted for him, and it’s all he’s got left, of his dad.

It’s all he knows. I don’t know… if I know how to be one anymore, and you live so far away, now. I can’t ask you to forsake Elysium for Northfall. And he certainly couldn’t make regular trips to Elysium just for a fake childhood.

Besides what would that short, tall lady think?