Dymas loved listening to his son ramble as they ate. It was the one time he dismissed his servants, and spent time with Proteus. Proteus was speaking now, as the food grew cold on his plate. "He's really funny. And he's cute, all the girls say so." Eight year old Proteus said, before attacking the fish on his plate with his fork.
Across the table from him, King Dymas choked on his glass of pomegranate juice. He sputtered, smacking him self on the chest. Proteus looked up, curious as to why his father was acting so strangely.
Recovered, Dymas took another sip of his drink while his mind raced. Had he never told his son that girls thought boys were cute, but that did not mean that boys thought other boys were cute? Boys thought girls were cute. It seemed important now, yet he wasn't sure he ever had.
Setting aside his goblet, Dymas frowned at his son. The excited look Proteus had had while talking about Sinbad slipped away. "Daddy?"
"Proteus." Dymas said gravely. "There are rules. You know that, yes?"
Proteus nodded sharply, eager to please. "Yes. Like don't hit the girls, and be a... a gentlemen!" He said, excited to have remembered it. "And to not chew with your mouth open – though Sinbad does that sometimes." For a moment he frowned, but then was back into his list before Dymas could interrupt. "And I mustn't say bad things, and I must not get my clothes dirty." He paused again, his small face crease in a frown. "But Sinbad does that a lot."
Dymas sighed. "Son, there is another rule. Boys do not think other boys are cute."
Proteus' frown grew, but after a moment, he nodded. "Yes, Father."