Red & White

thirty.

It was hard, tedious work for Louis to track down blank telegram cards. The extra ones he had owned were used up from the weeks of messaging his family back home.

Louis acted sneakily. When Harry was off in his schooling lessons with Mrs. Carmichael, he would run around the castle, dipping between the corridor walls when a guard was heard. He was just barely caught twice, but a bluff was used for disguise.

After no such luck at tracking down a single telegram card in a bin or pile, Louis waited until Harry was back to yelling at poor men in the training camps before continuing his search.

This time, he went to Mr. Blake, the head butler at the castle. He was a tough man, loyal to the family. He didn't let much slide in the servant's quarters, so when Louis randomly asked if he had an extra, Mr. Blake was hesitant.

"Don't make me regret this, Tomlinson," Mr. Blake warned, cautiously handing over the blank telegram. Finally!

"No promises, Mr. Blake," Louis replied with a teasing hint to his tone. He graciously took the card and stalked off until he was away from eyesight, then turned into a sprint to reach his bedroom. Once inside, the valet spotted an ink pen and got straight to business.

He wrote to her saying that he missed her dearly, and that the absence of her company was saddening him. Louis wished to catch up with her.

"Oh, you're good, Tomlinson," he mumbled under his breath.

The telegram spoke of a precise time to meet the valet in the castle. This plan had to go perfectly smooth for it to work. They had to come together somehow and if it was to be tricked, then so be it.

When he was finished, Louis felt proud at the words he expressed. His master plan was on its way, one step further.

******

"Shit, shit, shit, time?" Louis seethed, gripping one footman's collar and lifting him up with a fire in his eyes. The shocked footman stuttered out a gasp.

"U-uh half-past five, I-I think," he managed to say before he was dropped back to the ground. He scurried off at that moment.

I'm late. Again!

He glanced down at the sealed telegram with a nervous remark. He's got to get this delivered to Leah, now.

Louis ran fast. He cursed his shorter legs at this time, pressing himself to go faster down the long, dark corridors.

Mr. Blake's private quarters wasn't too far away from where he was. Just a little bit more...

"What can I do for you now, Louis?" he sighed when the valet burst through the old door.

He flung the envelope on to the dusty desk. "Give this to the delivery boy. The address is on the card as usual, but this is really important, Mr. Blake. Please give this to him and tell him it is urgent. I'm late to pick up Prince Harry and-"

"Quit blabbering, boy. Do your duties. I will give this to the delivery boy right now, don't fret. Now, go."

He needn't be told twice. Louis went off, running back down the corridor, down two flights of marbled -and very slippery- stairs to the ground floor, and out the back door where the staff was able to exit. From there he hurried to a secret entrance only known to a few people outside the military, and quickly unlocked that door to grant access into the training camps.

"You're late." Louis heard his voice before seeing his face, but he knew there was the common scowl traced on it.

"I'm sorry." The valet turned to find the Prince with his arms crossed in an impatient way.