Innately, Tetradore knew that ebony stone that was fastened into the stark blonde of Maeve's locks. The color was such a sharp constant that it near immediately drew the emerald of his own irises. The fae child, sharp as she was, was quick to insist that Mira had given it to her - and that the Hispanic woman was great. A soft chuckle left Tetradore's lips before he nodded in agreement. "Yes, she is pretty great." He responded, his own gaze briefly fluttered towards the woman in question and yet, later he might have to show Mira just all the ways in which she was, indeed, great. Nevertheless, the Were-King's attention returned to the demure girl in front of him, that compliment falling easily from his lips. He was hardly ignorant of the grin that simple comment produced upon her lips. Maeve's enthusiasm was all but palpable as the girl led him through the Ark, her soprano voice distinctly sing-song as the child bounded down the stairs. Regardless, Tetradore was content to take on that role as a listener, the man only speaking up to correct her away from the entrance of the Ark. The East, after all, was quite far from their Western dockyard and the last thing Tetradore wanted to do was walk within those dress shoes. They fit well enough, sure, but they were hardly the most comfortable footwear he owned.

The young child hardly questioned him, the fae simply trailing behind him with that never wavering simper on her lips. How well Tetradore knew his way around the labyrinth of the Ark - from those well-lit arenas to the dark and closed off corners deep within the belly of the ship. The Ark was his domain and how the Alpha was at home amongst those metal walls and rocking floors. Effortlessly, he pushed open the door to his own garage. This room was, admittedly one of his favorites. The plethora of sports cars on display was surely breathtaking - each one simply waiting for the Were-King's attention. Tetradore grabbed a key from the shelf only to meander down the center 'aisle' of sorts towards that bright red McLaren. A simple press of the key fob in his hand was all that was necessary for the car's headlights to flash, the vehicle beeping in response. That soft sound of awe upon Maeve's lips caused Tetradore's emerald gaze to turn towards her and slowly, his head bobbed in confirmation. That collection of luxurious vehicles was one of those few possessions within Tetradore's life that afforded much of his attention. That excitement within her voice as Maeve lept towards the vehicle prompted a ghost of a simper on the Were-King's lips as he held open the passenger side door for her. It was only once she was situated inside that Tetradore closed the door behind her. The Hispanic man made his way around the other side of the vehicle, sliding into the driver side seat.

That singular word was enough to prompt the child into action, the Alpha waited until he heard the click of the buckle before he turned the key in the ignition, prompting the vehicle's veritable roar to life. With expert care, the man maneuvered the car out of its parking spot and towards the plank that led them from the depths of the cargo ship. The open roads of Sacrosanct quickly enveloped them and yet, Tetradore was surprisingly careful to keep his own speed in check with Maeve in the vehicle - the man going so far as to be an actual good driver for once in his life. He was inattentive to the way her purple irises turned towards him, the sound of her soprano voice alone was enough to prompt a soft grunt from the Were-King. The very last thing Tetradore anticipated, however, was her inquiry of his age. "Thirty-one." His baritone voice rumbled in return, only for Maeve to continue to utter just how much older he appeared in comparison to her own mother. The very mention of the woman was enough to cause his gaze to cut briefly towards the girl though Tetradore remained silent, letting her piece together the fragments of her thoughts.

The Alpha was hardly surprised to learn that her own mother was near ancient, by mortal standards, when she had given birth to Maeve. It was, however, the utterance of his own father's name that caught him off guard, causing his attention to shift sharply towards the fae child. The corner of his lips tilted downwards ever so slightly before he inquired, "Matteo?" After all, it was the first time Maeve had ever said such a name and though it was unlikely, it was entirely possible that her Matteo was not his. What would the Frenchman have to do with Maeve, of all people? His eyebrows furrowed at the thought and yet, Tetradore gave little indication that he knew at all whom she was speaking of. After all, the fae's existence within his life was by far one of his best-kept secrets. Those purple irises turned towards the window and Tetradore, in turn, effortlessly continued to guide that sportscar through the familiar streets of downtown and towards the bright lights of Red on the Water. Slowly, Tetradore pulled the McLaren into a parking spot, the Alpha remaining silent upon Maeve's conclusion that fae lived for a very long time - if only she knew. The fae child would live on far longer than even Tetradore himself. He shook the thought from his head as the Alpha placed the car in park. Tetradore glanced over at the child beside him, only to note the brilliant grin on her features. "Sounds good." He commented with a small smile, at least until Maeve gave him permission for a beer of all things. Tetradore's nose wrinkled at the substance, that hard liquor far more his forte and yet, tonight hardly seemed the place for such a drink. "Maybe." He responded in an entirely uncommitted fashion, the man pushing open his own door only to make his way around the vehicle towards Maeve's side. On the occasion, the Were-King was entirely capable of wearing that guise of a gentleman, however rare it may be.

aiden tetradore