As a thanks to all you readers for leaving great reviews and being overall awesome, here's a long chapter!
The stairs that were fat with years of moisture creaked as Will descended them for the last time, carrying his few belongings. The carriage waited patiently outside, and a servant held open the door for Will. He paused to look down the muck-filled streets, and hoped to catch one final glimpse of his favorite stray dog. But no animals poked their heads out from around the corner. With a regretful sigh, he nodded a thanks to the servant and stepped into the carriage.
Will kept his head down and refused to look out the window from the moment the door closed behind him to the minute they arrived at the palace gates. His resolve broke down as the carriage paused for the gates to open up. Outside the dusty window, Will could see the palace rising up out of the London fog. The iron gates seemed too menacing to allow them in, yet they opened with ease. The palace itself appeared more like a wedding cake, topped with intricate piping and white columns raising it to the heavens, not like a place where one ate, slept, and lived.
The palace guards remained cold and emotionless as the carriage jolted forward into the palace courtyard, allowing the gates to close behind them, once again safely separating the palace from the grim of the rest of London.
Will anticipated the sight of Hannibal, dressed warmly in a long cloak trimmed with fur and his crown glinting in the morning sun, waiting for him and surrounded by palace guards on the palace steps. Yet when he exited the carriage, the stairs were inhabited only by unfamiliar faces. Will's stomach turned unexpectedly sour as a butler bowed and came forward to take Will's bag. Will's now empty hand rested on the royal sword hanging at his hip.
"The king regrets to inform you that he has unexpected business to attend to," the butler said. Will's face remained sullen. "But he commanded me to show you to your quarters and give you a tour of the palace."
"Did His Majesty specify how long this business will take?" Will asked, gazing up at the enigmatic windows.
"No, m'Lord," the butler said. Will thanked him, and then followed him into the stomach of the palace.
The excessive rooms of the palace blended into each other to form one long maze of plastered walls, marble floors, and kings and queens glaring down with sour faces. It wasn't until they arrived at the ballroom that Will became attentive. Without the billowing ball gowns and explosions of flower bouquets, the room felt transformed into a mausoleum. The absence of the orchestra left it silent as the grave. The marble shone where Will had first conversed with the stag mask, months ago. He wondered when the ballroom would be rejuvenated and once again be filled with life.
As they moved on, Will eyed the hallway and pushed the portraits from his memory. He turned to gaze in the direction of that fateful room, which the butler led him towards. Will's stomach recoiled at the recognition of the door.
"These are the king's chambers," the butler said, then continued to the next door, which he opened with a quick twist of his hand. "These are yours. I've been instructed to let you make yourself at home."
Will stood in the doorway for a moment, absorbing the room. It was decorated identically to Hannibal's, only everything had been reversed, as if the architect had recreated it through a mirror. The balcony at the end taunted him with its open doors, the wind blowing the curtains softly. Will noticed his bag had been placed at the edge of the bed.
He took a step into the room, and wandered to the wardrobe. Its doors opened smoothly, and Will wasn't surprised to find it filled with a palate of new clothes. He eyed it for a moment, his eyebrow raising amusedly. He closed it with a satisfied click and returned to the butler.
"Are you done, sir?" he asked. Will nodded.
"I think it will take a while to feel at home here," Will said softly. The butler nodded his head and closed the door behind him.
"Very good, sir," he said. "Shall we continue?"
"Lead the way," Will said, brushing his hair back.
"His Majesty wishes for you to have a thorough understanding of palace life, and so the head mistress of palace affairs has offered to inform you," the butler explained, leading Will towards the servants' quarters. He bowed and asked Will to wait for a moment. The butler knocked on a door and, after a muffled replied, poked his head in. He then took a step back and opened the door all the way.
Through the door stepped an unexpectedly vivacious woman, her red curly hair unrestrained by her maids' cap. Her mouth rose into a smile as she wiped her hands on her apron.
"Sir William Graham?" She asked, extending her hand. Will took it, and she shook his hand with a tight grip.
"Madame Fredricka Lounds," she said. "Head mistress of the palace. You can just refer to me as 'Freddie'."
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Madame Freddie," Will said. "Most people call me Will."
"Pleasure's all mine," she said. "I oversee everything within the palace to keep the king's day running smoothly. Let's start with the kitchen."
She turned and walked down the servants' corridor, taking long strides. Will followed closely behind, observing her knowing smile with a sense of caution.
"So, Will, how do you like the palace so far?" she asked.
"It's very impressive," he said, finding an appropriate word to describe its atmosphere. Freddie laughed.
"It's intimidating, especially for commoners such as ourselves," she said, giving Will a sideways glance. "It's not often that people of our status gain entry, not unless we have certain useful talents."
Her stride continued forward, unnerved by the monotony of the plain hallway, but she paused suddenly at a door. Her smile disappeared and she scanned Will's face, searching for some tell in his expression.
"What's your talent?" She asked. Will returned her own gaze with one of equal intensity, narrowing in on her true intentions.
"I was about to ask you the same question," Will said, keeping his gaze steady while looking down at her. Her mouth twitched with amusement and her head tilted to gain a new perspective of him.
"If you really must know," she said, her curls bouncing lightly. "I have a talent of being resourceful. And not just to the king. Being in charge of running the palace has certain benefits, especially when one knows how to use them."
She peered up at him, letting a little sting into her words.
"There's not much that goes on in this place that I'm not aware of," she said. "Secrets are the currency here, Will. So now you know one of mine, it's only fair that I know one of yours. What's your talent?"
"I also have a talent of being resourceful, only in more unconventional way," Will said. Freddie narrowed her eyes.
"What ways could be more unconventional than mine?" She asked. The joke, intended to ease Will into speaking, only set him more on edge.
"If you're as resourceful as you say you are, I'm sure you'll find out eventually," Will said. Her smile faded into a look of feigned concern for him.
"You don't have to tell me," she said. "But I think you should know that in my sources, sometimes facts and rumors blend into one, and it becomes impossible to discern the truth from the lies."
She kept her gaze, a faint smile hinting at her mouth and eyes. Will's anger was barely visible in his eyes.
"Shall we see the kitchen?" She asked, and continued walking down the hallway.
From within the depths of the castle, Will hadn't witnessed the sun's morning journey and was surprised to discover how high it had risen when he was finally allowed to return to his chambers for a moment of privacy. His feet were tired from the morning of walking, yet he felt out of place resting on his own bed.
Suddenly, he heard muffled voices from the adjacent room. While he couldn't make out the words, it was clear it was some discussion between two men. It could be assumed one of them must be His Royal Majesty. Was this the business he was attending to? And who did the second voice belong to?
Will leaned his head against the wall as the voices died down, nearing the end of their conversation. Then came a moment of silence, which concerned Will, until he heard the soft creak of the door opening. He silently drifted to his own door, and listened to footsteps retreating down the hallway. With one hand on the door to minimize noise, Will slowly turned the knob with the other and peered down the hallway.
He caught a glimpse of an unknown man, brown hair, average height, eyes with an animalistic intelligence, carrying a worn leather bag at his side, both hands clawing it close to his chest. Will scrambled for important details until he disappeared at the corner.
Shutting the door, Will conjured his imagination and tried to divulge what the contents of the bag could have been, but he lacked enough context and the possibilities were endless. Yet, even if he couldn't guess what was in the bag, he knew beyond a doubt who had given it to the strange man.
He paused as he heard the soft creak of Hannibal moving next door. Will lost the sounds of his steps to the vast empty silence of the room, but regained his position when he heard a knock on what he had thought was the wall. When he was sure he hadn't imagined the knock, he stirred himself and moved to the wall, and was surprised to find a door he hadn't noticed before. It's craftsmen had clearly designed it with the intention of disguise, and it was too easy to skip your eyes over.
Will opened it to find Hannibal standing before him, his room reflecting Will's, as if Will was staring into a mirror. Except instead of his own eyes, Hannibal was staring back at him.
"Will," he said, "I apologize for not being able to join you this morning, but-"
"You had business to attend to?" Will asked, noticing Hannibal's composure had become more relaxed from the careful footstep he'd heard before, and took advantage of it by keeping his tone light. It seemed to work for Hannibal replied with a smile and a nod of his head.
Will took a step back, and held the door open for Hannibal. He stepped through and inspected Will's room as if it was some new piece of artwork he'd never seen before, not simply a reflection of his own. Then he spied the chair that matched his own, sitting in the opposite corner, and sat down. He crossed his legs and relaxed into it.
"You met Freddie?" he asked. Will nodded.
"She runs a very efficient system, it seems," he said.
"Yes, she is very gifted at what she does," Hannibal said. Will puffed a small billow of air from his mouth and hovered around the chair that faced Hannibal's.
"From the looks of the kitchen, it appeared they're preparing for some festival," Will said.
"I was hoping it would be a surprise, but I had planned to have a celebratory banquet to welcome you to the palace," Hannibal said. "I should have expected you to discover me."
"That is really not necessary," Will said. "I'm a guard, not a long-lost prince returning from the ends of the world."
"There are few things in this life worth celebrating, and when they come along we must take advantage," Hannibal said.
"Very well, do what you must," Will said, resigning himself to sit down. "May I ask why I was given these chambers?"
"The king's personal guard should be near him at all times, don't you think?" Hannibal asked. "The most probable assassination time is at night, so it follows suit that you should be close by nocturnally as well."
The answer proved infallible to Will, for he didn't dispute it, however he did ask, "Wouldn't it be wise for me to be present at business meetings?"
"Of course, that is only practical," Hannibal said, making Will rethink his next comment.
"It makes me wonder who's watching who," he said, which elicited an amused grin from Hannibal.
"The first thing you will learn about court, William, is that everyone is watching you," he said. Will contemplated his words and then rose from the chair.
"In that case, I must appear presentable," he turned his back on Hannibal to open the hidden door for him. "If you'll excuse me."
Hannibal kept his smile, however, his shoulders pressed slightly closer to each other and the squint in his eyes distorted into a more irritated look. The change was barely noticeable as Hannibal headed back to his own room.
"May I suggest the mulberry suit?" Hannibal asked, and Will followed his eyes to the wardrobe.
"I will take that into consideration," he said and closed the door.
After not so careful deliberation, Will chose the wine-colored suit and shed his clothes. They lay on the bed, last vestiges of his life. He imagined they'd be very quickly disposed of, possibly incinerated if that was an option. Donning the coat and buttoning up the breeches, he found that they fit comfortably, although perhaps more snug than he was used to, but that was the style.
Only the cravat was left, awaiting him patiently on the bed. He turned away from it to inspect his appearance in the mirror, and decided that he looked dressed for the occasion. But there was still an emptiness missing at his side, and he remembered his sword. As he hooked it around his hip, the thought occurred to him that he wasn't technically a royal guard anymore and that his sword was now probably too cheap for the venue. He fastened it anyway.
Will knocked on the hidden door and waited. As he did, he wondered if Hannibal dressed himself or if he had a squadron of servants to do that for him. His question was answered when Hannibal opened the door to reveal his empty room. He scanned Will's outfit and although he was disappointed Will had not taken his suggestion, he was satisfied that he hadn't completely refused his gifts this time. Will didn't realize himself also looking Hannibal up and down, to examine his finely patterned purple silk vest with darker swirls of indigo tracing vines across it.
"You look refined," Hannibal said, "yet you've forgotten you're cravat."
"Not forgotten," Will corrected, keeping his face towards Hannibal and away from the bed, "Consciously abandoned."
"The cravat is necessary, it ties the entire design of the suit together," Hannibal said, entering his room and walking to the bed. He picked the forlorn accessory up and handed it to Will. He gazed down at it with his jaw tightly clenched. He reached out his hand and crushed the cravat in it, then brought it to his neck. He turned away to tie it, wincing as his hands fumbled with the frilly fabric.
A spark ran down from his hands to his arms and spread through the rest of his body, starting at the spot where cold hands tapped his own. He drew his own hands away as Hannibal's took the cravat and began to tie it.
"I apologize," he said, hushed because he was so close to Will's ear. "That was rather thoughtless."
"There's no way you could have known," Will said. When Hannibal's hands moved from his neck to his shoulder, Will turned to face him. Hannibal inspected his handiwork and seemed pleased.
"You have not eaten all day," Hannibal said. "You must be hungry."
Will took a moment to evaluate how he felt before replying.
"Famished," he answered, then motioned towards the door. "Shall we?"
The applause that arose from the stretched table was more for Hannibal than Will. He recognized a few of the faces of the nobles that stood around the table clapping, among them Chilton, Countess Bloom, and Commander Crawford. With a slight wave of his hands, Hannibal motioned for his guests to stop clapping and sit down.
Hannibal easily slipped into his chair, much larger and more decorated than the others and situated at the head of the table. He rested his hand near the empty place at his left. Will understood his message, and eased himself into the chair, carefully moving his sword into a more comfortable position. Countess Bloom sat one seat diagonally from him, but next to Marquess Chilton. Crawford sat on the opposite end of the table. It was unclear whether this was done to distance him from Hannibal, Will, or both of them.
The servants, dressed in only black and white, carried silver platters into the room and placed them on the table. Hannibal was announcing the various dishes with elaborate names, but Will was focused on the servants raising the covers one by one. Underneath each one was steaming meat wrapped in unrecognizable vegetables, casting a warm fog upwards. His fingers twisted the napkin in his lap.
Around him, the guests took plentiful portions of the meat, which leaked bloody juice onto their plates. When a servant offered him the platter, he took a small portion of meat and an unproportionally large amount of the vegetables. His plate reminded him of the garden's he'd strolled through yesterday.
As the other guests took mouthfuls of their meat, Will bit into a sliver of what he thought was lettuce. After chewing for a few painful seconds, he swallowed and noticed Freddie's frizzy red mane turned towards him.
"So, Sir Graham," Chilton piped up, mid-bite. "You didn't mention yesterday that you were being considered for a position in the palace."
"I didn't know myself when we spoke yesterday," Will explained.
"Hm, and what are the duties of this new position of yours, Sir Graham," he asked. "I assume 'Sir' is still the correct title?"
"Sir is fine," Will said. "As far as my duties, I ensure the king's safety."
"And there could not be a better candidate for the job," Hannibal said. Will bowed his head in thanks and Chilton beamed at having the king join their conversation.
"I do not doubt, Your Majesty," he said, taking another bite out of the meat. "And may I say, this beef is simply exquisite."
"You are too kind," Hannibal said.
"I did not know you and Sir William knew each other," Countess Bloom interject. "May I ask how you too met?"
Will heart seized as he shoved a rushed lie into an explanation, but even as his lips parted, Hannibal said, "I had been told of his accomplishments, both killing the Scarlet Shrike and almost catching the Ripper."
A few of the most curious heads turned to listen to His Majesty's explanation, including Will.
"I was very dismayed when I heard of his retirement from the royal guard, but I have a policy of never passing up an opportunity. So I implored him to join me at the palace," Hannibal said.
"Very wise," Chilton commended. "These are dangerous times, and having a personal guard is a good security."
"Especially with the reemergence of the Ripper," Will said. The guests that had been listening to the conversation paused their eating to glance down nervously at their food, their stomachs repelled by the thought that someone in London must be feasting on flesh tonight.
"I apologize," Will said, impaling a carrot with his fork and cutting it with his knife. "I was under the impression that this was already announced to the city."
"I had hoped to avoid panic in the city until more progress could be made finding him," Hannibal said.
"A very wise decision, Your Majesty," Chilton said, tilting his head slightly. Will eyed the Countess next to him, who stared down at her dish with a frown tugging at her lips.
"Wouldn't it be wiser to inform the citizens that there is a killer prowling the streets again?" Will asked with a raise of his eyebrow. A small spark of satisfaction encouraged him when the Countess looked up at his words. "I have faith in them that they will not panic, but will instead take precautions. Avoiding walking home alone at night, staying away from the shadier parts of town, perhaps waiting to do business until after the Ripper had been caught."
If the guests were shocked before, now they were concerned. Chilton's eyebrows rose and the Countess nearly dropped her fork. At the end of the table, Crawford craned his head to get a better understanding of what had just occurred, as if it would heighten his sense of hearing. Freddie had also managed to stalk closer to the head of the table. Only Hannibal and Will seemed unflustered.
"I had not considered that option," Hannibal said. "Another reason why you prove so valuable, you have better knowledge of the ways of the common people than I."
With a simple sentence, Hannibal managed to release the tension mounting in the room. There was a light nervous laughter from the guests, who returned to their food. Will should have felt complimented, but instead embarrassment rose in his stomach. The rest of the party moved on in conversation as a quartet of instruments set up their ensemble in the corner. Chilton finished a bit of his meat, then turned his attention again to Will.
"Have you thought anymore about my offer?" he asked, twirling his fork. Will blinked twice before he could conjure his memories of the conversation.
"Ah yes. Well I'm afraid that I cannot offer my brain since I've already dedicated my services to the king," Will said, grateful that he had such an easy and infallible excuse. The two violins, cello, and flute played softly in the background. The flutist stuck out as slightly flatter than the other instruments.
"Shame," Chilton said, his eyes sliding to gaze at the king while his attention was elsewhere. "You are still invited for dinner at my residence, and perhaps a visit to my conservatory afterwards."
"Thank you for the invitation," Will said. "I will certainly take it when my duties provide me an evening of rest."
As Will said this, he locked eyes with the Countess. She smiled back at him, both of them ignoring the Marquess's ensuing ramble about his conservatory. A high-pitched squeak from the flutist caused Will to break eye contact to grimace. The Countess laughed, quickly bringing her napkin up to cover her lips in a coquettish fashion. His joy from his was short-lived for they were not the only ones who had noticed the mistake.
Hannibal raised his now empty wine-glass, and Freddie was by his side refilling his glass instantly. He whispered something in her ear. She straightened up again, and Will followed her path as she circled the table to the quartet. In a moment, the four men were escorted out.
"Sir William?" the Countess asked, awaiting his answer. Will looked back at her, struggling to recall what she had just asked him.
"What does Crawford think of all this?" She repeated. "I know you two are good friends."
"I haven't had the chance to speak with Crawford," Will said.
"I am sure that our good Commander will approve of Will's promotion," Hannibal said. "As I'm sure you are pleased."
The Countess's breath caught, but she covered it well. Will studied her as she took a sip of her wine before answering.
"I'm afraid I don't understand your meaning," she said.
"I was referring to your friendship with Sir William," Hannibal said.
"I would hardly call it friendship," Will said. "We have not seen each other for many years."
"I am glad to have a new face in court," Countess Bloom said, shifting conversation. "And I'm glad to see extra protection for Your Majesty."
"Thank you for reminding me," Hannibal said reaching for his glass and fork. He lightly tapped the fork on the glass, gathering the attention of all of the guests.
"Thank you all for attending my dinner party," he said as a small applause rose from the table. "As you are all aware, this dinner was in honor of the appointment of my new personal guard. I'd like now to take a moment to officially recognize the knight I've chosen, and bestow a gift of loyalty and honor on him."
A butler stepped forward, holding a sword sheathed in a black case decorated with golden vines which wrapped up to the handle. The golden ropes that entwined to make the handle appeared too flimsy to stay, yet they remained sturdy when Hannibal lifted the sword off the pillow it rested on.
Will understood his silent message, and stood up. Hannibal held the sword out to him, and he bowed deeply. His eyes scanned the sleek design of the sword as he rose. It was much slimmer than the bulky sword he'd been given on the royal guard. His fingers easily wrapped around it.
"I hope you all enjoyed the meal," Hannibal said. "And now, let us retire to our quarters."
Hannibal gave a final bow to his guests, then turned and exited through the doors held open by two butlers. Will searched for the Countess Bloom, but caught Jack Crawford's gaze of confusion and anger. Not wanting to any his questions, Will turned and followed Hannibal down the hallway.
"Would you care to join me for a glass of wine before retiring?" Hannibal asked, already stepping into his room, leaving the door ajar for Will to follow.
"I need a glass of wine after that dinner," he said, taking the glass offered by Hannibal.
"That was not too unbearable," Hannibal said. Will didn't answer, just drank half of his glass.
"You did not eat any of the meat," Hannibal noted, taking a sip of his own wine.
"I had a very filling breakfast," Will lied. "I am not used to the excesses of palace life."
"It takes a strong will to maintain a sense of one's dignity when given all the luxuries one could want," Hannibal said. "However, I do not fear you sharing the fate of the other nobles."
"What fate is that?"
"Pampered wolves lulled into vegetarianism."
Will failed to mention that vegetarianism was currently a very appealing notion.
"I expect you'll keep me busy," Will said, finishing his wine. He placed it down on the table, and found his hand remaining there to hold himself up. He fought back a yawn.
"Yes," Hannibal said. "You have an intimidating amount of work waiting for you tomorrow."
"In that case, I should get a good night's rest," Will said with a bow of his head, hearing his bed calling to him. Hannibal returned it, then finished his own wine. Will stepped into his own room and closed the door, taking a moment to lean on it for support before placing the new sword on the wardrobe. He then unhooked the old one from his waist and flung it onto the nearby chair. He was barely able to untangle the cravat from his neck and unbutton his coat before he collapsed onto his bed.
I hope you all enjoyed that! Come back next week for more. (Also just a heads up I've been having some issues uploading documents, so my updates are at slightly irregular times. Apologies)