[Yancy swears to god he's like a damn nanny most of the time. In that charming, affectionate, almost older mentor sort of way. If the older mentor had a crush, because he's nannying a fucking handsome prince and how could you not? He buries that though, as best and often as he can.

Sometimes he can't help staring, like now, and feeling humble as shit in his dinky little off-brand black suit.

He can pull himself out of the clouds though, smiling as he huffs and approaches the prince.] No, they're not going to cancel, that's true. [Because its your early surprise birthday party, he thinks to himself.] But my employer, his majesty—your father, you remember him—made it vaguely clear that he'll have my ass on a silver platter if you're late anymore.

So, [With a tilt of his head, Yancy reaches to gently straighten the knot of Chuck's tie and smooth it down to the clip before tucking it in to fit into that steel jacket.] We have to get going.