The next morning, soft sunlight filtered into the royal bedroom as Kira and Derek stood near the door, already dressed for the day.
Kira wore an elegant outfit suitable for the Queen's Conference, while Derek looked every inch the king in his dark suit. Kira was all done and ready to leave, but Derek kept inventing small reasons to keep her exactly where she was.
A crease in her sleeve. A strand of hair out of place. A button that was already perfectly fastened but apparently needed his urgent personal attention.
Then, he cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing her cheek. "I am going to miss you," he said quietly.
Kira smiled up at him, her hands resting on his chest. "I will miss you too. Terribly. But tradition must be observed." She placed her hands flat on his chest. "Even though I would trade it to keep waking up next to my grumpy husband."
He let out a low chuckle, pulling her closer. "Grumpy, am I? And yet here you are, kissing me like you cannot get enough."
