Derekâs gaze kept drifting between the road and the woman in the passenger seat as he drove. She had strong-armed him into a normal human outfit: black tee, black jeans, a leather jacket, and a cap pulled low to stop anyone recognising their king out in the wild.
"What do you do when youâre not being a king?" she had asked, eyeing his wardrobe with visible scepticism. "Today, weâre not going out as a King and Queen. Weâre going out as normal people, to have normal fun. Try not to look like youâre about to sentence someone."
So, here he was in simple clothings. He had assumed the idea of an outing with her would be at some quiet, upscale restaurant in Dravengard. Instead, she chosen The Central, a place far too loud and public for his liking.
As they drove, the silence in the car began to weigh on him. Usually, Kira chattered enough for three people. Her sudden stillness was loud and unsettling.
Specifically, it made him wonder if she was sitting there wishing it was Kai behind the wheel instead of him?
He cleared his throat and glanced at her.
"You were howling with laughter not twenty minutes ago," he muttered. "Now youâre sitting there as quiet as a mouse."
Kira glanced over at him. "Well, youâre not exactly giving me anything to laugh about."
He kept his eyes on the road. "You donât usually need a reason."
"Iâm just following orders, Dear hubby," she said. "I recall you saying, not very long ago, that laughing too much would hurt my cheeks." She folded her hands neatly in her lap. "Iâm preserving my health."
He opened his mouth to retort and closed it, having nothing else to say.
"Are you cross with me?" he finally asked.
Kira glanced across at him, brows lifting slightly. "Why would I be cross?"
She was playing innocent. He could feel the subtle coolness beneath it, a quiet restraint that sat just under the surface of her usual warmth, and he did not like how much it unsettled him.
"Because if you werenât, youâd be chattering like a magpie right now," he said, eyes still on the road.
"My chattering gets on your nerves," she replied calmly. "I was taking the hint."
He glanced at her. "When did I say that?"
"You didnât have to say it. Actions speak louder than words."
He scowled, genuinely lost. The logic of women was a puzzle he wasnât equipped to solve. Desperate to change the subject to something he could actually grasp, he blurted out, "What does the scoreboard thing mean, anyway?"
Kira turned to look out of the passenger window. "So you did see the note."
He had found one of her usual notes that morning in his jacket pocket when he was getting ready to leave. It had been folded neatly, covered in her handwriting and those ridiculous little doodles she liked to add, and it had been, an attempt to brighten his morning.
"I found it," he admitted.
She lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. "I didnât even know youâd seen it. You never said anything. No acknowledgement, no thank you, nothing. I assumed youâd used it as a coaster and thrown it in the bin."
Derek scoffed as though the idea was ridiculous. "Am I supposed to be grateful for scraps of paper left in my pockets?"
"Of course!" she shot back, her voice rising with a flash of her usual fire. "The point is the effort, Derek. Do they make you smile or not?"
He stayed silent for a long stretch, his knuckles tightening against the steering wheel. Grudgingly, he muttered, "Are you baiting me or something? Who could possibly smile at such boring jokes?"
Kiraâs head whipped towards him so fast he was surprised she didnât break her neck.
"Boring?" She let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. "Youâre the boring one! All you do is brood, and scowl, and then brood some more. Iâll tell you something for free, Derek. If you keep that up, youâll have so many wrinkles before you hit forty."
He turned to look at her, one brow arched, trying to work out how the conversation had arrived here this quickly.
"Why are you getting so worked up? This has nothing to do with my question. Just tell me what the scoreboard is and who the hell is âGrumpy Kiââ"
"Iâm not telling you anything," she interrupted, folding her arms over her chest and looking exactly like a petulant child.
"Why?"
She felt a sudden urge to grab his hair and give him a good shake. Did he seriously not see it?
Did he truly not understand that dismissing her notes as âboringâ after she had made the effort, could actually sting?
Was he so emotionally sealed shut that he couldnât connect those two things? How was he sitting there asking why like the answer wasnât sitting right in front of him?
She bit her lip, turned to face the road, and said nothing.
"Why arenât you talking?" he asked after a moment, glancing at her.
"If you answer one of my questions," she replied, chin tilting up slightly, "Iâll consider answering yours."
"I wonât answer anything personal."
Kira rolled her eyes. "Please. Whoâd want to know the secrets of your boring life anyway?"
That landed wrongly with him. The bite on his ego was so hard. His jaw ticked. "âBoringâ is starting to sound like a deliberate insult."
"Itâs a description, not an insult. And the truth is usually uncomfortable."
"Only Kai calls me boring," he growled.
"Thatâs why Kai and I are BFFs for life. Weâre the only ones who actually tell you the truth."
"What the hell," he said, frowning, "is a BFF?"
Kira stared at him. A full three seconds of absolute silence. Then she burst out laughing. "Youâre joking. Please tell me youâre joking. Who doesnât know what BFF means?"
Derek felt a prickle of embarrassment. He usually didnât care for the opinions of others, but her laughter made him feel... small. "If you want to speak to me, use a language I actually understand."
"Fine, Gramps."
The word had barely left her mouth before Derek swerved cleanly onto the hard shoulder and brought the Ferrari to a stop. The tyres gave a short screech. Kira lurched forward against her seatbelt and grabbed the door handle for support.
He turned to her, his aura darkening, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "What. Did. You. Just. Call. Me?"
It was Kiraâs turn to be confused. "Uhm... Gramps?"
He closed his eyes. Breathed out through his nose, long and slow. He was already regretting every decision that had led to this moment, including coming downstairs, taking her hand out of Kaiâs, and getting into this car.
He regretted asking about her silence, assuming it was a sign something was wrong with her. It was clear she was perfectly fine and armed with a very sharp tongue which she knew exactly how to use.
He opened his eyes, gave her one final look, and pulled back onto the road.
"Donât call me that," he said quietly.
"Noted," Kira replied.
She could feel the shift immediately. The warmth that had been flickering between them, however reluctantly, had retreated.
He had put his kingly armour back on, and even she knew when to stop pushing. She turned to the window and watched the lamplit streets of Dravengard slide past in comfortable quiet.
Derek glanced at her several times as they drove. She had gone still again, and he didnât understand it. He had only told her not to call him gramps. They had been in the middle of a conversation, and she still hadnât answered his question.