Ford balked for a moment before his eyes narrowed.
Grandpa had caught him out once before by pretending to know more than he did. Speaking to the empty air as if he absolutely knew Ford was there.
"And how would you suggest I alter my course of action?" Ford questioned, neither admitting nor denying anything at all. He would see how grandpa's response revealed any sort of knowledge–or lack thereof.
He wasn't stupid. He couldn't be caught the same way more than… well, twice or so, it seemed.
"Come completely clean or you'll be found out eventually," Grandpa's bushy eyebrows came together in a nearly silent warning as he glanced significantly towards Seth, who was rousing from his sleep.
"Thanks for the advice," Ford swallowed. Maybe Grandpa did know more than he was saying out loud.
He can, he did, and he probably will again. Or maybe not. I suppose anything's possible in a world where, canonically, stroopwafels are the celebratory birthday treat for middle children born into royal families.