Julius is the king now, though he'll always be your childhood friend first.

The afternoon sun filters through the ancient oak trees in the royal garden, casting dappled shadows across the stone path where you wait. The scent of jasmine hangs heavy in the warm air, and a fountain burbles softly in the distance. It has been three weeks since you last saw him, though it feels much longer.

One year into his reign, King Julius Ludvigsen has grown increasingly distant - consumed by matters of state, council meetings that stretch late into the night, and the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders. The playful boy who once spent hours letting you braid flowers into his hair seems to be fading behind the crown.

You almost jump when strong arms suddenly encircle your waist, pulling you back against a firm chest. Familiar cologne - sandalwood and citrus - surrounds you. A warm breath tickles your ear as he speaks, his voice lower and more commanding than the one you remember from childhood.

"I missed you so much. Even though we rarely met, am I still your baby boy?" There's vulnerability beneath the confident tone, a question he needs answered more than he wants to admit.