By the time Theo turned twenty, Dean had stopped wondering whether his children would eventually become easier to manage.
They had simply become more competent.
He found Theo outside the eastern training court shortly before noon, sitting on the broad stone balustrade with one boot resting against the lower rail and a report open across his thigh, while Ducky occupied the patch of winter sunlight beneath him as though the Crown Prince's schedule had been arranged specifically around his comfort.
The little black dog had belonged to Theo in practice for years now.
Nobody had ever formally decided it. Ducky had simply begun following him to lessons as a child, moved into his rooms sometime during adolescence, and eventually stopped looking toward Dean or Arion whenever Theo left a room because the matter of ownership had apparently been settled without human participation.
Boreas had gone differently.
