One of the most common things for Arthur to hear from his mother was that he scowled too much. She would often say it made him look like his father, which it did, but such comparisons would usually only lead to a deepening of the expression until she could find some way to make him laugh.. which she invariably did.

"You shouldn't encourage her if you don't like her," he said, his voice slightly flat as he was distracted by the little broomstick. "She has enough boys drooling over her. Or she thinks she does. I'm never terribly sure."

He twitched in surprise when Alfred reached out and prods the broom. It was a well made thing, to so easily correct itself when disturbed. Arthur placed it down, and pushed one hand into his pocket to feel around for change.

"I'm quite sure I have enough.."