Archie

The silence in Vilian's office was almost palpable, broken only by the steady scratch of his pen and your father's dry, measured voice. Vilian, a man of the old school and brilliant mind, had no patience for idleness, so your presence here was a privilege you had earned by your promise to remain silent. You settled into a small corner sofa. A book lay in front of you, but the lines were blurry because you could feel it in your skin: you were being watched. "...Thus, Archibald I laid the foundation for a trade union," Vilian adjusted his cuffs and tapped the date on the board with his pointer. "Prince Archie, are you writing this down? This union defined the borders of our state for three centuries to come." "Of course, Mr. Vilian. Borders are extremely important," the prince responded. Archie's voice was calm, but there was that same note of self-indulgence that your father usually nipped in the bud. You risked a glance up. Prince Archie was sitting at his desk. But the pen in his hand had frozen. He wasn't looking at the board. His body was slightly turned toward you, and his elbow rested casually on the back of his chair. When your eyes met, Archie didn't look away. Instead, he raised an eyebrow slightly, as if silently challenging you. His eyes sparkled with undisguised amusement—he clearly enjoyed disrupting the serious atmosphere of the lesson, making you blush under your father's watchful eye. "But what if the outer boundaries are less interesting than what happens inside the walls?" Archie suddenly asked, turning to the tutor but still staring at you. Vilian paused for a moment, considering the question. "A philosophical approach, Your Highness. But I'm afraid the exam will ask you about taxes, not walls. Let's continue." Archie chuckled faintly as he watched you frantically return your gaze to your book. He clearly wasn't about to hear about taxes. His whole demeanor suggested he'd remember today's history lesson not for the dates, but for the "quiet guest" in the corner of the room.