The Cursed Tyrant and His Reluctant Queen

The carriage indeed is all but fashionable. At least, there are soft cushions inside. I won't suffer from travelling too much.

Aida sits in front of me while Ignis and Tobin stay outside. They'll take turns driving.

The roads are smooth, and we're moving slower than when I came to Mavale. I can actually sleep a bit inside.

We also make frequent breaks to walk and stretch our muscles.

Frequent means twice a day. But I guess Ignis wouldn't stop if not for us girls needing to rest. Knights are indestructible, it seems.

Stopping for the night is also something due to me. Knights don't sleep every day!

Before I have time to get up and open the door, Ignis does it for me. He must have jumped down to be here first, considering I was closer.

He offers me his hand to help me get off, and he shows me the direction where to walk.

«Let's take a stroll before eating,» he says.

Aida stays next to the carriage, analysing our exchange with keen eyes. Her gaze didn't miss the contact between our hands, nor the way Ignis bends closer when he talks to me.

I haven't noticed myself until now, until the moment I wondered how another person would see us.

«Are you tired?» he inquires.

«Not really,» I say. «I slept during the journey. And you?»

«I'm relieved you are all right.»

«Do you want to sleep?»

«It's soon to relax, Veronica. We're still in danger...»

«Oh, come on. They won't walk into your room and attack! I'll keep watch for you.»

«You don't have to.»

«But I want it. I'll be awake so you can rest for a few hours. I'll wake you up if danger approaches; is that all right?»

«Keeping watch isn't an easy feat, especially at night. You'll be tired tomorrow if you don't sleep...»

«So what? I'll sleep in the carriage like today.»

«It's not the same. A bed is more comfortable, and you can rest for hours without waking up.»

«Ignis, come on, I'm not made of glass. And you need to sleep somehow. You can't continue to stay awake forever!»

«I will sleep as soon as we cross the bridge on the Bearill.»

«When will that be? In two days?»

«Maybe tomorrow.»

«Ignis, you can't continue like this!»

«Why not?»

«You need to rest.»

«Are you worried about me?»

«Of course, I am. I am worried about myself, too. A sleep-deprived coach driver means trouble. But, of course, your health is important.»

His ear-to-ear grin makes me realise that this whole conversation was worth it if he's so happy.

«Also, sleeping makes people prettier. You can't stay beautiful if you don't rest enough,» I add.

His mood is lifted to the sky while he looks for a way to make me praise him more. Oh, if this is enough to make him rest, I don't mind.

«Is that so?» he says.

«Yes, of course. Just look at me. I sleep a lot to stay pretty and fresh.»

«Indeed, then it must work for real. But I don't think sleep alone can explain your beauty, Veronica. You were born with the right traits. And your spirit keeps your skin young.»

«I am young!» I complain. However, my cheeks start burning at his words. I wanted to flatter him, not being complimented as a reply.

«Your hair is so dark yet shiny,» he continues.

No, wait, this was my plan of action. When did it backfire?

«It makes me want to touch it to see if it's as silky as it looks...»

«Oh, well, it's gotten worse in the capital because I didn't have my usual lotions,» I murmur, embarrassed.

«I'm so happy you let it grow. Long hair sure suits you well.»

But it's so plain. Black and wavy, long to the waist. Oh, a bit longer now.

Ignis's hair is way prettier. It's red like fire, and wild. It makes me want to touch it, too. Just to check whether it's as soft as it looks.

I stand on tiptoe and reach out for his head. My fingers find their way in between his locks, and I can finally confirm my suspicions.

Ignis's hair is so soft, just like when he was a child.

I chuckle while sinking my hand even more, dazed by his surprised expression.

Ignis doesn't stop me. In anything, he bows his head to let me reach more comfortably. It's just a slight movement, a few degrees to the front. It might be a reflex, for all I know.

Yet, I can't stop laughing like a fool.

«Oh, Ignis, don't talk about my hair ever again!» I exclaim. «It's not very nice when yours is so soft. What in the world do you use to wash it?»

«Water,» he replies, dumbfounded. «I once tried to lose colour, long ago. I used baking soda, but it didn't work out the way I thought.»

«Baking soda? What happened?»

«My hair turned pale orange.»

«Oh, that's such a waste. Why would you do that? I like this colour very much!»

«I hoped it would become blond,» he sighs. «I was a bit dumb as a teen.»

«I like red hair more than blond hair. It's so rare! I bet every pair of eyes turns in your direction wherever you go.»

«That... Well, yes. I hated it.»

«Because of the gossip about the curse? Red-haired people don't have any curse at birth. They don't bring bad luck either; you don't need to worry.»

«I take it as the opinion of someone informed about curses and bad luck,» he replies. Now, he's a bit dejected.

I stop petting him and recompose myself.

«Do people make trouble with your red hair?» I inquire. «Next time I hear something, I'll tell them a piece of my mind.»

Thinking about back then, Ignis was troubled about his father. He preferred the older son because of his blond hair.

I haven't considered that matter too deeply before, but Ignis must have suffered because of his parents' preference towards the first son.