Chapter 48: What’s Wrong Now?

Basil stood in the hallway, leaning one shoulder against the wall beside his door, ready and waiting for Darius to step out. His arms were crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed on the plush rug beneath his shoes as he quietly counted the seconds, trying not to think too hard about why he was waiting in the first place.

If he didn’t know himself any better, he would have thought he was actually looking forward to this outing, considering how quickly he had gotten ready. He simply wanted to get the whole thing over and done with as quickly as possible and avoid any unnecessary delays, that was all.

A quiet click echoed down the corridor as Darius stepped out of his suite and pulled the door shut behind him. He paused momentarily the second his eyes landed on Basil. For a fraction of a second, something unreadable flickered across his face before it vanished so quickly Basil almost thought he had imagined it.

Without a word, Basil pushed himself off the wall and started walking. Behind him, Darius released a quiet breath and followed. When they reached the garage, the sleek metal-and-glass space echoed with the sharp double chirp of Basil’s key fob unlocking his black sports coupe.

Darius paused and glanced around with a slight frown. "We’re not going with guards?"

"What? Are you some helpless baby that needs babysitters?" Basil asked without looking at him as he opened the driver’s side door. "I don’t like being followed around by guards." He glanced over the roof of the car at Darius. "I can defend myself just fine. If you can’t survive a trip without being followed around by a bunch of annoying bodyguards, you can always take another car."

Darius raised a brow, caught off guard for a second. It was the first direct, unprompted thing Basil had said to him since they had met that wasn’t wrapped in a layer of ice. Reclaiming his composure, he cleared his throat lightly.

"If guards aren’t necessary, then why did the king insist I take one with me yesterday?"

"How would I know?" Basil shrugged, a faint, snarky tilt touching his lips. "Maybe he was worried about his precious newfound son."

Without waiting for a response, he slid into the driver’s seat and pulled the door shut.

Darius stood there for a moment, staring at the driver’s side window. Was that dry humor he had just heard from his prince? The thought caught him completely off guard. A small smile threatened to form before he quickly suppressed it and walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, and climbed in.

The drive to the royal tailor was quiet, but surprisingly, it wasn’t as agonizingly awkward as Basil had feared. The silence between them wasn’t nearly as heavy as it had been during breakfast. It was almost comfortable, or at the very least, easy to endure. He kept his eyes on the road as the city rolled past, yet his mind kept wandering to the man in the passenger seat.

Maybe Darius wasn’t ignoring him completely after all. It gave Basil a strange sense of relief to know that Darius wasn’t genuinely angry or offended about last night. Yet the Darius he had thought he knew, insufferable, loud, and relentlessly persistent, was still entirely absent. Something was clearly weighing on him. Or perhaps he really had chosen to take a permanent step back and stop pretending to be nice to Basil. His fingers tightened slightly around the leather steering wheel.

The thought left a faint, lingering ache in his chest, but he forced himself to bury it. Twenty-five minutes later, he pulled the car into the quiet driveway of the tailor’s shop and parked. After cutting the engine, he stepped out, with Darius following right behind him as they headed inside.

The royal tailor’s establishment looked nothing like the clothing stores Darius used to frequent. Despite his identity as the Reaper, he had never been the type to spend money on extravagant luxuries, often viewing them as an unnecessary waste. Inside, the space opened into a vast reception hall furnished with cream-colored couches, polished marble flooring, and tasteful modern lighting. Large digital screens displayed sketches of custom designs alongside high-quality portraits of influential figures wearing the tailor’s creations. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased elegant displays of handcrafted suits, evening wear, and luxury fabrics arranged with such precision that the place felt more like an exclusive gallery than a tailor’s shop.

Polished black stone lined sections of the walls, while at the far end of the hall, a bold gold plaque bearing the tailor’s logo was mounted prominently as a statement piece.

Darius slowed as his eyes traveled across the luxurious interior. "Damn." A low whistle escaped him in genuine pappreciation.

"Now this place is incredible. It’s exactly what I’d expect a royal tailor’s shop to look like."

Before Basil could respond, a young woman in a sharp, tailored black suit approached them from the front desk. She stopped a respectful distance away and bowed deeply to both Basil and Darius.

"Good morning, Your Highnesses," she said, her tone smooth and polished.

Darius was still too distracted by the shop’s interior to respond immediately, while Basil gave a single, brief nod in acknowledgment. A familiar, uncomfortable twist formed in his stomach. Hearing the title still carried a faint awkward weight now, but he kept his expression perfectly composed and said nothing to correct her.

The receptionist straightened and offered a professional smile. "Please, make yourselves comfortable." She gestured toward a set of low, cream-colored leather sofas in the waiting area.

"Master Lucas will be with you shortly. I’ll let him know you’ve arrived."

Basil nodded and took a seat on one of the sofas, crossing one leg over the other. The receptionist bowed once more before walking briskly down a wide corridor leading toward the back fitting rooms. Darius watched her disappear before finally dropping onto the same sofa beside Basil.

"This place really is something else," he said with an impressed smile. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen a tailor’s shop this ridiculous before, and I mean that in the best possible way."

As he spoke, he glanced toward Basil, expecting at least some kind of response. For a brief moment, their eyes met. Then Basil immediately looked away, turning his attention toward one of the display screens across the room.

A small frown tugged at Darius’s brow.

What’s wrong now?

I thought we’d moved past this.

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