In Which Florian Endures the Longest Hug in History

November 3, 1180

"You're sure you haven't seen him at all today?"

Florian nodded--again. "I think we're about three of the same question past the point of my telling you you're over-reacting."

"How am I over-reacting?"

Oh dear God. "Well, for starters, he's an adult."

Ah, but why did he bother? That logic never worked with the baron's kids these days. "He's fragile."

"He is not. I've seen that boy kick puppies." The baron's face folded in about eight different types of disbelief. "All right, there's a slight chance it might have been a dream. Still! He can take care of himself."

"But he hasn't spent a night away from the castle in years! What if he has an episode?"

"And what if he doesn't? Maybe you've been too preoccupied with worrying, but they haven't been as frequent since Prior was born." Florian took a quick pause to stand. Christ, the term 'pain in the ass' was starting to develop a literal component. "You know, I doubt Camaline gives it up very often. Sparron probably just wanted to get laid."

The baron swallowed. Like it was a huge surprise that his married adult son who had a brat of his own might have been interested in having sex. "I think Sparron has more pressing concerns than--"

"Making the beast with two backs? Running the horizontal marathon? Dancing the dance without pants?" The baron's expression was static. What a waste of a clever rhyme. "Of course he doesn't. He's twenty-four. Let him get his kicks while he can, before he's fifty and his ass gets all wrinkly and he starts forgetting where to put it and it doesn't matter because he can't get it up any--"

"Florian."

"What?"

The baron cleared his throat. "I'm fifty."

Huh. He thought he would have recalled teasing him about that. "And you look damn good, sir."

"Uh-huh." Why oh why was that eyebrow still raised. "Look, alert me the second Sparron comes in, all right? If he's not back within the hour, I'll have to go out and look--"

"Father, I'm back."

Oh, thank God this conversation was over! "Good timing."

"I'll say." But Florian got the sense that he and the baron differed in their reasoning. "Sparrow, where were you? I was worried sick."

"Uh... somewhere I shouldn't have been." Once the lingering shame had a chance to get inside, Sparron shut the door. "I'm sorry, Father."

Florian clapped his hands together. "Ah-ha! I knew he was at a brothel!"

"Florian, shut up." He scowled. But at least the baron seemed happy now. "Well, wherever you were, what matters is that you're home now. Just... try not to scare me like that again, all right?"

"Yes, Father."

Jesus. Florian had an adult son who still lived with him too. Hamrick had to be gone for about a week before Florian got 'scared'. Hell, probably a day or two for Florian to even notice he was gone. Worrying was Thetis's job. Florian's job was to distract Thetis from said worries.

Then again, there was no one around to distract the baron any more.

"Come here, son."

He watched as his boss pulled his son into a longer hug than Florian could remember giving any of his sons past ten or so. Then again, none of his older sons had ever really needed hugs. Setran and Dragon had been independent long before they'd ever left home. Hamrick worked the farm Florian had made a point to neglect and was usually too tired to stand by the end of the day, much less embrace, while Severin didn't seem to like touching anything that wasn't bound in leather and otherwise comprised of old sheets of parchment. Once they'd grown up, his sons had stopped needing him.

Thank God.

"You should probably check on Prior," the baron urged as the longest hug in history finally drew to a close. "He's been asking for you. I told him grown-ups sometimes need to take care of things on short notice, but I don't think he'll feel better until he sees you."

"Poor kid." Sparron sighed. "I don't know if I'll feel better before I see him either."

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