Horace's heart was not as cold as he made it out to be. It was cracking, shattering, melting, and he knew it would not soon mend. He found himself slumping into the throne, and the new day dragged on as tediously as the last. He only hoped that something, or more particularly, a certain someone, might arrive at the castle to break the monotony, and maybe his bonds as well. Horace couldn't stand to wait. It was like that feeling of calm before the storm, that moment that seemed to stretch into a thousand infinities.
Horace found himself wishing for a girl to hold close. Chiefly, a fiery tempered, powerful, talented, wily fox of a girl. But he also knew this girl would now only live on in his past and would not be present in his future. He had to keep telling himself that. She's the past, she's the past, she's the past, I still have my present to live. But nothing worked. His princess would forever be a ghost at the edges of his lonely world…
XxXx
"Halt, why would Horace betray us?" Will asked in a voice that quavered slightly. He could not find it in his heart to forget all the good times they'd had, but nor could he forgive Horace. Even Halt seemed a little sad, but that was all he showed. Only Will and Gilan could guess at how much anguish was hidden behind that stoic face.
"If I knew, I'd have told you. I honestly have no clue. We could go over and over the subject, but no answers are going to come. We just have to go by actions, not by reasons. He convicted us of high treason, and banished us. I think it'd be best to forget Horace, Will," Halt replied. He hated himself for saying it, but it was probably best if they wiped Horace from the records. It would have been best if it was just Will, George, Jenny, and Alyss in the ward, best if he never existed.
A small tear fell from Will's doe-like brown eyes. "I can't forget him. He is-was, my best friend. He's saved my life countless times, and I've done the same for him. We were brothers, Halt! Brothers!"
"I let go of my brother," said Halt gruffly. "You can let go of yours," And with that, the conversation was over. Will took to stringing and unstringing his longbow over and over again and watching the shadows dance across Halt's face. He suddenly seemed so…so old, and Will didn't want to let go of him. He'd lost Horace, and Evanlyn seemed to be growing far beyond his reach. Things were spiraling out of control for Will.
Gilan slipped unnoticed over to them and sat on the log next to Will. He felt an overwhelming urge to put his arm around him, but didn't. Will was almost like a brother to him, but a chasm was stretching between them. Gilan pulled out his sword and began to sharpen it with a metallic rasping sound. After a few minutes, Will spoke.
"Gil, that's really annoying. Can you sharpen your sword later?"
"Nope. You've always got to be battle ready! Who knows when bandits will attack?"
"Thanks for that shining gem of positivity," Halt broke in. "Now, I assume we're needed in the Queen's tent for a meeting. Hop to it now!"
So they did.