The warm air that drifted from the royal greenhouse wrapped Will in the scent of flowers and citrus. The same page that had arrived at Will's address earlier and drove him to the palace in the lavish carriage that made heads turn on the streets, now held the glass door sprayed with condensation open for Will.
He nodded his head in thanks, and then stepped through. The sunlight pierced through the glass walls and created the illusion that the plants were emitting an ethereal glow. Two swords flashed in the light as two men fenced, one adorned in red, the other green. They hopped back and forth with quick fluid motions, as if they were performing the steps of this choreographed dance for the patiently watching audience before them. A dance was really the only way to describe it, for its elegance was as entrancing as watching a ballet. Just like a ballet, this dance also told a story, a story of two opponents locked in a battle of subtlety. Neither could reveal any weakness without the other picking up on it and taking victory.
As the man in green pushed the man in red further across the mat, Will noticed the members of the royal court shift in their seats. The ladies pushed loose strings of hair that had popped out of their tight curls because of the humidity back into place. The men dabbed beads of sweat away from their foreheads. Will was no expert in this style of swordplay, for his training had been more focused upon course yet practical attacks and defenses, and less for showmanship. However, he still recognized how the green fencer's footing was too forward, too eager for victory over his opponent.
Apparently none of the other onlookers noticed this, for they straightened up in their seats when the red fencer, having urged the green fencer into a closer position, dodged his attack and firmly planted a jab on his chest. The man's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword for an instant as he and the court drew in their breath. Before Will's eyes, he saw the fencers transform into himself and Garrett Jacob Hobbs. A shiver ran down his spine as he once again felt his sword pierce Hobbs' chest, saw the crimson stain spread across his shirt and dot his own face with blood. The tension of his vision was expelled when the court initiated a soft clapping of congratulations, yet the unease remained.
The green fencer pulled off his mask, his face etched into a neutral expression. Suddenly a connection sparked in Will's mind as he realized there was a face missing in the crowd. He silently railed himself for not seeing it earlier. He forced himself to keep his face calm, and hoped he was more successful than the green fencer was at it, as the red fencer took his mask off.
"Good match, Tobias," Hannibal said, tucking his mask neatly under his arm.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Tobias said, bowing deeply.
"You've improved greatly since last time, but your stance still needs work." Hannibal said, bowing his head to Tobias.
"Perhaps one of these days I will finally win against you," Tobias said, his veil of friendly banter near translucent.
"Perhaps," Hannibal said with a smile. Tobias returned it with his lips twisted slightly upwards.
This exchanged marked the end of the match, and the court sprung to life, now free to socialize amongst each other. Will watched from the outside as they mingled and added to the chirping of the birds nesting in the indoor trees. One lord broke away to join the two fencers, who were being attended to by pages. Will couldn't help but feel slightly amused when he noticed a spark of annoyance in Hannibal's eyes.
"Congratulations, King Hannibal, Baron Tobias," he said. Both fencers looked down coolly at him.
"Thank you, Lord Franklyn." Hannibal said, adhering to social politeness.
Will's attention shifted away from the one-sided conversation when he noticed Countess Bloom in the crowd. In her violet and green dress, she had almost blended into the scenery. Will considered approaching her, however all thoughts of this action disappeared when a man appeared beside him, a Baron or Earl of some sort.
"Sir William Graham?" He asked, the only socialite to even acknowledge Will so far, let alone recognize him.
"Yes," Will said, watching the man out of the corner of his eye toy with his cane.
"Mm. I thought so," the man said, he held out his hand gingerly. "Pleasure to meet your acquaintance. I am Marquess Frederick Chilton, founder of the London Academy of Medicine and Sciences, as you no doubt are aware of."
Will's eyebrows involuntarily twitched with recognition of the man, whom he had heard various rumors of from the many scientists he had worked with over the years, chiefly that the man had not been capable enough to contribute to science himself so had instead turned to establishing and financing others and subsequently claiming their work as his own. Will took his hand and wondered what business the Marquess could possibly have with lowly him.
"We, myself and the court, have heard many rumors of your talents, and I must say they sound simply fantastical," he said and paused for Will's response.
"You're too kind, sir," Will said, not taking the energy to add enthusiasm.
"Yes, and as a man of science, it is my moral obligation to investigate all phenomenal circumstances such as yourself," Chilton explained. Will's frown deepened, fully aware of the direction the conversation was headed. He remained silent, but his eyes involuntarily flinched in Hannibal's direction. Apparently satisfied that Will had nothing to say, Chilton continued, "I had hoped to contact you several months ago at the Masquerade held in your honor, but you fled the party before I had the chance. And I was devastated to hear that you had quit His Majesty's forces. I attempted to track you down, but I fear you are rather good at disappearing."
"I apologize for any inconvenience," Will said. Chilton chuckled, missing his intended aloofness.
"It's quite alright, my good sir, for it appears that we've been given an opportune chance to discuss-" Chilton said, preparing to launch into another long winded speech. Will's patience cracked and he interrupted to say, "Actually, I was summoned for a private meeting with the king."
Chilton's mouth remained open mid-sentence before he slowly closed it. Will watched as he tilted his head to gaze in the direction of the king, who was still locked conversation with the Baron and Lord.
"The king invited you to a private meeting?" he asked, unable to hide his shock and slight offense. "That's a little unorthodox, wouldn't you say?"
"Perhaps," Will said, raising his eyebrows. He turned to stare at Chilton when he added, "but who are we to judge his royal decisions?"
Chilton's eyes skimmed the floor before looking up again. He raised his chin slightly and fidgeted with his cane. Then he returned Will's gaze.
"Quite right, sir, however I am sure I am not the only member of court who would admit this is, at the very least, unexpected," he finished with a flourish of his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, Will noticed a few gazes in their direction from the court.
"It is as unexpected for me, as it is for the court," Will said. Chilton raised his eyebrow and widened his eyes.
"You mean to tell me that you have not the slightest idea why His Majesty called for you?"
"Not the slightest."
"Well," Marquess Chilton said with a roll of his eyes, "this certainly is strange."
"Indeed," Will said, sensing Hannibal had almost escaped the conversation. "If you'll excuse me…"
"Before you go," the Marquess said, holding up his cane. "Perhaps you'd care to continue our conversation another time? The doors of my Conservatory will always be open for you."
"I appreciate the offer," Will said, and bowed his head respectfully. When he raised his head again, Hannibal had finished putting away his fencing gear and was walking in their direction.
His fencing armor had been replaced with a cream-colored silk waistcoat, and a velvet cape was draped over his shoulder. The fencing needle at his side had been replaced with a sharpened sword, its hilt adorned with rubies. On his head rested his ruby-encrusted golden crown. From its many gems, Will would have guessed it weighed enough to crush a small animal, however Hannibal carried it with grace as if it were a stack of feathers lightly balancing on his head.
"Your Grace," Marquess Chilton said, bowing deeply and crossing his cane across his chest. Will followed suit, glaring at his own brown shoes which appeared even plainer next to Chilton's decorated heels and clean white stockings.
"Marquess," Hannibal greeted with a head bow. "Sir William Graham, thank you for accepting my invitation."
"Thank you for the invitation," Will answered, raising his head and then tilting it up to match eye contact with the slightly taller man.
"I hope you didn't mind watching the end of our fencing competition," Hannibal said, revealing a small smile when Will returned his eye contact.
"It was a superb match, Your Majesty," Marquess Chilton fawned, taking a step forward to rejoin the circle the two men had accidentally excluded him from. Hannibal bowed his head gratefully. Chilton smiled, more for himself than either of them.
"Thank you, Marquess Chilton," he said. "Perhaps one of these days you would care to strike swords with?"
The Marquess's smile faded, only to be replaced with feigned laughter.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I will pass on that offer to join you in the ring" Chilton said. Hannibal looked down at him, then glanced to the rest of the court. He took a step away from Will, and the room fell deathly silent when he raised his hands.
"Thank you all for coming, but I now have private business I must attend to. I hope you will not mind if my servants lead you out," Hannibal said, his servants opening the greenhouse doors for the aristocracy. There were murmurs of thanks and respect as the parade of satin dresses dusting the floor and ivory canes taping the tiles. Marquess Chilton bowed one final time to the king, then turned to Will and added before leaving, "Don't forget about my invitation."
Will nodded his head as the Marquess joined the others in leaving. He watched as the servants stepped outside and closed the doors behind them. The handles twitched as they locked. Will clenched his jaw and turned to face his host. His heart seized when he found Hannibal staring intently at him. He skimmed him up and down, making Will feel as if he knew that Will had sold the clothing he gave him to afford the much plainer outfit he wore now. As if he knew that even with its cheaper price, Will still could not have afforded it on his own.
"I hope this venue will do for our conversation?" Hannibal asked, surprising Will by not commenting on his clothing, or further discussing the fencing match.
"I don't think the venue matters much," Will said, then tilted his head. "I was under the impression that you summoned me here for business, not friendly conversation."
Hannibal smiled and motioned with one hand towards the rest of the indoor gardens, and rested the other on his sword hilt.
"I consider you a friend, and I hope you consider me a friend," Hannibal said, slowly walking towards the gardens. Will had no choice but to follow behind.
"I was not under the impression that friends toss friends off balconies," Will said, not able to disguise all the bitterness in his voice. Hannibal calmly watched the assortment of purple hibiscus they passed.
"I was worried you would still be angry with me about that," he said. Then he tilted his head, his crown somehow remaining in place. "Did you receive my gift?"
"Yes," Will said, unable to control himself from answering truthfully. "It was too flashy for my taste."
"Is that because you fear standing out from the crowd?" Hannibal asked. Will hitched one eyebrow up.
"Suspicion is a better word than fear. I'm suspicious of what standing out will bring," Will said.
"That is understandable, but not everything it brings is bad. Attention can be beneficial, if used correctly," Hannibal said. Will didn't answer, just picked out the individual flowers from the garden awash with a mix of colors to create an artificial rainbow. "My tailor will be disappointed to hear it though, especially after he worked so tediously to shape that outfit to your exact measurements."
"My own tailor will surely have a fit when he learns that the king is now filling my wardrobe," Will said.
"That is one of the benefits of being king, no one can disagree with you," Hannibal said.
"Everyone is too afraid to," Will said. "And perhaps there's good reason, even if they don't know you like I do."
Hannibal paused to lean over a rose that was a slightly lighter shade of red than his blood colored cape. He gingerly pinched his fingers around its stem, carefully avoiding its thorns, and pulled it from the bush.
"Is that why you have been unable to sleep at night?" he asked, sniffing the rose. "Or is it because you are haunted by the ghost of Garrett Jacob Hobbs?"
Will turned away from Hannibal and his taunting rose, and brushed his hand over the bright yellow roses that grew opposite the red ones.
"I've seen behind your veil of humanity and I am not scared." he said, struggling to keep his voice steady.
Hannibal perked up at Will's words, and moved towards the other side of the walkway. He gently kept the rose in his hand.
"That was our bargain. I fulfilled my end of our agreement: I removed my mask," Hannibal said. He turned his head to gaze at Will again. "Yet you have not upheld your end of the deal."
"Our deal?" Will asked, memories of the masquerade ball still seared into his mind. "If I remember correctly, I did take off my mask. And you threw it into the courtyard three stories below."
"There are different kinds of masks," Hannibal said, stepping away. Will frowned at the yellow roses, then followed Hannibal down the garden path. Their feet were silent on the stone tile. The only noise came from singing birds in a different corner of the greenhouse.
"Do you garden, Will?" he asked, his words uncomfortably casual.
"It is rather hard to garden in the city without considerable resources," Will explained, not realizing his feet had fallen into rhythm with Hannibal's.
"Gardening is an art, and like any art, it does require considerable resources," Hannibal said. "To be truly successful, one must know how to use those resources most efficiently. Only in this way will your garden thrive."
Will's eyebrows knotted in confusion as he tried to understand why Hannibal was explaining this. He allowed Hannibal to continue speaking.
"I am starting a new program for the city of London," he said. "It is a campaign to beautify our fair city by establishing public parks for all the districts."
An image of thriving rose bushes, daffodils, and calla lilies blooming in the middle of gray London as a single colorful oasis from the brutal streets grew in Will's mind. The dirty orphans chased each other happily, as the stray dogs that he often fed pounced after sticks thrown by drunks.
"What do you think?" Hannibal asked, holding his rose close to his nose. Will raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"I think it could be good for the citizens to have some form of escape from the pains of daily life," he said, picturing a pair of women chatting down one of the lanes lined with calla lilies. As they passed by, a man stepped out from behind a large oak tree to watch them. He stepped onto the path and followed them down it as the London fog quickly descended over the park. The same teeth that had dug into the flesh of seven brunette girls smiled at Will as Garrett Jacob Hobbs disappeared into the fog.
"But they would be difficult to regulate," Will explained. "Crime from the outside would seep in and rot whatever happiness could be found there. Especially with the recent resurgence of the Ripper."
Hannibal raised his eyebrow in amusement, and Will's mouth twitched upwards, but he quickly dragged it down to its neutral position. The resistance was useless though because Hannibal had seen it. He took a deep whiff of the rose's scent before continuing to walk. They headed towards the exotic foliage section. Will's own words remained in his mind, digging the true purpose of this meeting out from the fragrant flowers and humid thought-slowing air.
"In order for your garden to thrive, you'd have to use all your resources effectively," Will said, narrowly eyeing the azaleas they passed. "Even your more reluctant resources."
"I do not want to force you to do this, Will," Hannibal said. "But you are currently fighting an impossible fight, in more ways than you know. You want to save this city, but there are more practical ways to accomplish that."
"More practical but at the cost of morality," Will countered.
"Is it more moral to expose an unbelievable truth or build a comforting lie?" Hannibal asked. Will didn't not answer his question.
Having arrived at his intended destination, Hannibal let the question bite at Will, who eyed the large round fountain sitting before them. The crisp clear water was cleaner than any Will had seen before, and he found it hard to believe it was water at all. The fountain sprouted up a tall column of water that descended to the Earth in a symmetrical cascade and filled the center of the greenhouse with its soothing music. Meanwhile, Hannibal sat down on the nearby bench, adjusting his sword as he sat and crossed his legs. Although Hannibal had left a large enough slab for Will to join him, Will remained standing.
Deciding that his question had had its intended effect Hannibal continued, "And who is it that decides morality? The ruler, me? My followers, the aristocracy, the church, or God? Which of us truly has that authority?"
"I fear that no matter where the authority lies, the answer will remain the same," Will said, resting his hands on the cool stone of the elevated garden, only a foot or two away from Hannibal. "So you want me to don my royal guard sword again?"
"No," Hannibal said, twirling the rose in his hand as if he were dancing with it in the ballroom. "I said I wanted to use my resources effectively, and to reinstate you as a mere royal guard would be a waste. I wish to promote you."
"A promotion for me would cost Commander Crawford his job," Will pointed out.
"Commander Crawford has only ever served me well, and I have no intention of dismissing him yet," Hannibal said. "I want you to be my personal guard."
"That would require some degree of intimacy," Will said, using his question to disguise his shock. He brushed a fallen curl out of his face. The rose stopped twirling.
"A degree of intimacy that we already have, whether or not you acknowledge it," Hannibal said.
"And what of when others acknowledge our strange…intimacy?" Will asked, twisting his head to once again look at Hannibal.
"You mean my court?" Hannibal asked. "As a monarch, I've set a precedent of strong ruling. Excess has made them harmless, only capable of harming those below themselves."
"You forget that I am below them," Will said.
"We have nothing to fear from them," Hannibal said.
The silence was filled by the noise of rushing water. Will gazed up past the tower of crystal blue to look at the beams of light shining down on his face from the glass ceiling. He took a deep breath, absorbing the earthly scents of the shiny leaves. His mind raced, examining the different options opened to him. Even in the expansive organized jungle of the greenhouse, the humid air made his hair stick to his head and filled his lungs with claustrophobia. There was only one answer but his tongue was too numb to bring the words into existence. He stepped away from the bench and gazed around, but had somehow become disoriented around the fountain and couldn't locate the path they had come from.
"I suppose I'll need a new wardrobe," Will said, glancing down at his new outfit that was still too plain and cheap for the position. "And I'll have to polish off my sword and sash."
"Not to worry," Hannibal said, standing up to dust sprinkles of dirt from his pristine shirt. "I will take care of all of that. It will be waiting for you in your new quarters."
"I've arranged for chambers to be drawn up for you, directly next to my own," Hannibal said after seeing the twitch of confusion on Will's face. "It is necessary for the king's personal escort to be close at all times."
"We wouldn't want any attempts on your life," Will said, a smile leaking onto his face. He followed Hannibal down one of the paths.
"I cannot guarantee your position, should that successfully occur," Hannibal said. As they rounded a bush, the glass doors of the greenhouse came back into view. Will couldn't understand how that made sense with the layout of the greenhouse, but decided he would ask to see a map of the castle later.
"I will have a carriage pick you up tomorrow morning," Hannibal said.
"Tomorrow morning then," Will said, with a bow of his head.
"Will," Hannibal said, also bowing but in such a way as to keep his crown on his head.
Two servants opened the doors as Will stepped through. The cool air of the hallway invigorated him, and cleared his head. He nervously ran his hand through his hair and followed a servant out.