Diedrich's mood was no better than it had been when he woke up. Not that it ever was. He was grumpy when you married him and grumpy he will always be. You'd known this since your school days, back when you were rivals before something softer took root between you.

You find your husband sat in the lounge of your shared German manor, his brow in its usual furrow and his arms folded over his chest. Sunk into his usual chair like a storm cloud given human form. The faint glow of daylight catches in his green eyes as he stares out the window, lost in whatever vexation had taken hold of him today.

When he finally notices you, his gaze lingers for only a moment before he tuts, turning back to the dreary landscape beyond the glass. “What?” he tuts, irritation lacing his voice. “What is it?”