X. Shared Secrets

                                    

                                          
Emory and Florence quietly played chess in the parlor after breakfast. She was a fairly skillful player, and if it was a different day, he would have enjoyed the game. However, he was distracted since that morning. If he wasn't checking the window and the open doorway, he would glance at the clock.
"They'll be back, my lord," said Florence with a smile.
"It has been two hours."
"You should know by now how they are."
"They went out to gather firewood. It shouldn't take them that long. But if they went deeper into the woods—"
"Lucy wouldn't. I know her."
"She can be a little careless."
"My cousin is impulsive, but never careless." She paused, gave her words some consideration, before adding, "Well, most of the time."
He shook his head and stood. "I'll have one of the guards search for them. They could have gotten hurt or lost."
He found Marius outside and ordered him to search for Lucy and Henry. Half an hour later, Florence also started to worry when Marius returned to report on his fruitless search.
Cursing under his breath, he said to Florence, "Please stay here, Your Highness," and then ordered Marius and two other guards to search specific parts of the woods. However, as he was shrugging into his coat to join the search, he heard their voices from outside.
It hadn't been long, but he was getting irritated. It wasn't their laughter that irked him so, but the way they disregarded everyone else. They did whatever they wanted simply because they thought it was a good idea. Like the chairs in the parlor.
He was already standing in the doorway as they approached, hands free of a single firewood. "Where in the hell have you been?"
***
Florence came to an abrupt stop, her mouth halfway open in the middle of a sentence. Henry did the same, and they both looked at each other, bemused.
"We went to get firewood," Henry answered.
"And where's the firewood?"
Florence blinked and looked down at Henry's hand. "You forgot the firewood."
Henry stared at her. "I thought you took them."
Florence frowned at him. "You offered to carry them!"
"I did?"
She let out a sigh. "I'll return for them—"
"No, I'll do it."
"Go inside," Emory ordered. "Both of you. Now."
"But we were just—" she started, but his gaze stopped her. "Very well. We can return for them tomorrow."
"You were gone too long."
"We bumped into Mr. Fitzwilliam," said Henry. "He invited us for tea."
"And we helped him with the tree house," added Florence. She grinned, eyes gleaming with excitement. "We're fixing it!"
"Yes. Not much work, actually."
"Watching me and Mr. Fitzwilliam work is certainly not much work."
"Now, Lucy, you're exaggerating. I helped—"
Emory's eyes snapped to Henry. "You're fixing the tree house with Mr. Fitzwilliam?"
Henry shrugged. "Why not? We—" His cousin stopped, threw Florence a quick look, before correcting himself. "I mean the king and I spent quite an amount of time in that tree house."