“Your brother’s wedding?”
“Yes, they can ask about the wedding and the ball. Anything else, I won’t answer.” His Daffy-inspired glow gave him the courage to take command. Be who he wanted to be. “Also, I need to be back here by one o’clock. I’ve something to do.”
Stern frowned. “It’s not on your diary, sir.”
“It’s onmydiary. Not yours. It’s all on the level.”Sort of.
“Yes, sir.” Stern reached for his coat. “We should go down. Hemstead and the car are waiting.”
* * *
“Prince Gus Tackled Big Tech in Dalholm. Today he tackled youth sports. Check out our footage of the prince on the pitch.”
–The News Leader MidDay Update
The prince praises Lauchtenland youth. “Our future is bright.” Also toured Smart Life’s new facility. Brags on their ingenuity and initiatives. Believes Lauchtenland will become a leader and force in technology.
–@Dalholm Daily Twitter
Prince Gus is lOOking good on the pitch today with Youth League members. Dressed in gray Armani slacks and white button-down, he won the day. Swipe up to see more photos. The last one shows his world-famous smile. You’ll swoon, I promise.
–The Royal Blue Eye Instagram
* * *
“Sorry I’m late.” Gus shed his coat and reached for the apron he’d used Saturday. The shop door was open, letting in the cold. But Emmanuel had stoked the potbelly stove with firewood and the hot glow from the firebox warmed the work space.
“Busy morning?”
“I visited the Youth League, then held a short presser. How did our legs turn out?”
“See for yourself.” Emmanuel had removed them from the clamp and set them aside.
The putty had filled in the cracks and breaks, but both legs pretty much looked, well, broken.
“Please tell me we’re going to refine these. Otherwise, the gig is up.”
“All refining, or healing, comes in phases.” Emmanuel set two small dowel rods on the workbench, along with the drill. “You can’t expect phase one to look like the final product.” He popped Gus gently on the arm. “Embrace the process with its pain and ugliness and you’ll soon find yourself at a beautiful end.”
The old man’s words were jovial, almost spritely, but they hit Gus square. A flash of heat washed down his neck and back as their eyes met. Emmanuel wasn’t talking about repairing the ancient chair.
“You’ll appreciate this.” The carpenter rotated the seat and pointed to an intricate carving. “Your ancestor’s initials. He was only twenty-two when he conquered the Normans.”
Gus leaned to seeTHB1066whittled in the base of the chair. He traced the lettering with his fingertip, his long-ago relative becoming a bit more real.
“I was just finishing uni at twenty-two and destined for the Royal Army.” As a prince, he lived in splendor and privilege. His most taxing duty was deciding weekend plans.
“Titus was a brave, bold soul,” Emmanuel said. “Loved well too. Like you. Now let’s get to work.”
Emmanuel explained the next phase, but all Gus could hear was Emmanuel’s declaration,“Loved well. Like you.”He should challenge the man. “How do you know me?” Yet deep down he wanted to believe he loved well. Or could love well. And not fail trying.
“Emmanuel, you seem to know a lot about old Titus. Almost as if you knew him. How do you know he loved well?”
“Ah, well, a man hears things.”
“Still, you talk as if—”
Hemstead’s text interrupted Gus’s thought. Hashtagtrouble.
