The Castling Quartet

emma

Two days and twenty-three hours before

Emma loved the palace.

Apparently, they were supposed to be finding out the wights' plans because the ymbrynes had noticed increased activity recently. Translation: they were being thrown a shiny thing to play with while the adults talked money.

But it didn't matter right now, because this place-a quaint castle tucked away in Spain-was beautiful in a long-lost treasure sort of way. And it didn't matter if they were caught up in a horrible war with no way out, this palace gave her life.

Something they'd all been needing lately.

On the train, Emma had been busy tying up her hair with the ribbon that Horace had given her. He, too, had been fixing hair. He'd been touching up Enoch's during the train ride, fussing over this and that and fetching water from the bathroom and asking Emma if she had a hairbrush, and then the train attendants.

In the end, it looked nearly the same as before-if a smidge bit straighter-and Horace frowned to himself, muttering something in French before saying "oh!" and digging around in one of his trouser pockets.

His hand popped up with a silver choker, a pearled necklace, and two pairs of earrings; one a simple pearl stud, and one that was three pearls stacked atop each other.

Emma gasped. "Horace!" She took the pearl necklace in her hands. "Where'd you find these?"

Horace grinned to himself. "Well, I may have nicked these from Francesca's side drawer. On complete accident, of course."

Emma burst into a fit of manacle giggles. "Oh dear, I love that. She's a right bitch."

Horace handed the choker and pair of pearl studs to Enoch. "This is yours. You, uh, don't have to wear the earrings. I just-I saw them and I thought of you. That's all."

Enoch stared at them before picking up a single stud. He twirled it between his gloved fingers.

"... this is nice," he eventually said. Horace nodded at him, all pursed lips and fidgety hands. Enoch hesitated a second more before smiling softly and moving to unclasp his current studs, simple black ones that he'd had in for the past six weeks.

His hands stopped a second before undoing the clasp. He looked up at Millard, brows creased.

"This isn't going to fuck up anything, will it?" he asked.

"Ah, no. It's been long enough, it should be fine," Millard replied. Enoch smiled and finished replacing the studs.

He posed when he was done. "How do I look? Pretty fancy, huh?" he said with a smirk. Horace looked like he was two seconds away from pulling Enoch into a kiss.

"You look beautiful E," Emma said. She eyed the other pearl earrings in Horace's hands and he gave it to her absentmindedly, still enraptured by Enoch.

Horace remembered himself and held the choker up for Enoch to see. Enoch's mood immediately dampened. "This, too, love."

Enoch frowned at it. "Oh, right."

Horace helped Enoch clasp it on and straighten it. Enoch didn't actually seem too terribly bothered by it all. It made Horace excited and him a little normal again. A little happier; less frustrated.

He'd curled into Enoch and slept the rest of the train ride. Enoch had soon fallen asleep, too, his head resting against Horace's. Neither Emma nor Millard dared to speak too loud lest they wook them up. Lord knew the two needed the sleep.