Mischa's red ribbon was the first thing that Will saw the next morning. It was resting on his bedside table atop a handwritten note in the more developed hand of Hannibal. Will turned over to ignore the items but jumped when he came face to face with Mischa pointing to them.

Her blue gaze flickered between Will and the table several times, arm outstretched, though she didn't say anything. Will shook his head and hid his face in his pillow.

"Not today, Mischa," he muttered, voice muffled from the feathers. "Please."

There was a tug somewhere behind his ribs and Will did his best to take no notice of it, but the feeling grew stronger until it was gnawing at his insides. He sighed and pushed himself from the pillow, sitting up. He grabbed the ribbon and let the silk slip through his fingers before he set it aside. His fingers traced the edges of the envelope, his royal title scribbled across the front of it. When he flipped it over he found a red wax seal with the Lecter's crest on it.

He stole a glance towards Mischa who had busied herself with her phantom copy of Utopia. She looked up from the pages, brows rose as if asking why Will hadn't opened the letter from her older brother yet.

Will found the act of opening the letter difficult as part of him wanted nothing more than to read Hannibal's eloquent way with words and the other part of him didn't want to think of the man any more than he needed to.

The seal cracked as he broke it and he pulled the paper from within it. It unfolded and Will found his gaze wandering elsewhere as he licked his dry lips. He could set them aside, shove them all into the drawer of the bedside table and forget that they existed. But he couldn't stand the way those haunted eyes encouraged him to read what had been written for him. To appease, he brought the page up to view them and sighed.

Will,

I hope this letter finds you in the best of spirits, though I must confess that my own heart is heavy with regret and longing. The moments that have passed since I left your side have been filled with the echo of our last words, the memory of your hurt expression haunting my every step.

I cannot begin to express the depths of my remorse for the harsh words that passed between us. It was never my intention to wound you, yet I did so recklessly. Ever since I was a child, it has been imparted to me that my allegiances belonged to the crown, even if I was never to belong to it. I have let that govern my actions every day since then and my foolish pride blinded me to what truly mattered. You.

I am deeply sorry for causing you pain and my heart aches to hold you close, to apologize in person. I wish I had the time to do so. Your father is belligerent, and your health is of greater importance. I could not bring myself to wake you from your rest.

When I return, I promise we will have more time for me to beg for forgiveness on my knees. For now, look after Mischa's ribbon for me. You did such a lovely job the last time. Your care is the only one I trust.

I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Until then, my thoughts remain tethered to you.

Yours now and forever,

Hannibal

The paper lowered into Will's lap, and he let his head fall back until he was staring up at the ceiling. His fingers blindly found the ribbon and he pulled it though his fingers just as he did before it was returned to the rightful owner.

He loathed the way it brought comfort to his person. The way he felt relaxed despite the chokehold that the fever had on him. He tied the ribbon around his wrist. It felt like home. It felt like safety.

He returned the letter to the envelope and hid it away in his bedside table, before settling into his bed. He watched the sun rise from his windows, the soft pinks giving way to lighter yellows.

He did his best to ignore the way that his breathing grew shallower and more painful with each breath. He was coughing more now. It felt like they never ended like a continuously flowing stream. The way his strength slowly dwindled from his limbs locked him to his bed. The cold he had been able to chase off the night before was once more etching into his bones, chipping away at them until he was solid ice.

A hand took his and Will let a smile pull at the corner of his lips when he found his mother sitting on the edge of his bed, the air about her shimmering in a soft, welcoming light.

Theophania's face was kind and healthy, not the illness-stricken shell she had been when Will sat beside her bed with her. She looked nothing like she had when Will had held her hand while she put her finished book away and said she was tired. When she finally slipped away, Will only noticed when the sound of her troubled breathing fell silent.

He wondered if she were returning the favor for him now. Her finger brushed his sweat damp curls from his forehead and a kiss was pressed against his sweat covered brow.

"William," she whispered, her voice like the distant echo of a lullaby. "I've been waiting for you." Her smile was tender, and her presence radiated a warmth that Will prayed would help take away the chill in his body.

Will tried to reach a hand towards her, but it fell weakly back to his side. His body broke into more coughs and a whine escaped him as a wave of pain washed over him.

"It hurts, Mother," he rasped out. Her hand continued to pet over his hair delicately. "Dying hurts." He nearly laughed at the idea. Because this is what it was. He was dying. Mischa had only clung closer to him in the hours before, begging him to read the letter so that he knew that Hannibal did care. So that Will wouldn't be left with easily answered questions going unresolved.

Theophania's eyes filled with understanding and the hand clutching his gave it a gentle squeeze. "I know, sweetheart. I wish I could take that pain away, but I can't. I promise it won't last much longer. The pain is just a part of this transition."

Hot tears burned Will's eyes and he again tried to reach for his mother with trembling fingers for them only to fall short.

He winced at a warped loudness behind him. It almost sounded like he was back underwater. Garbled words that didn't make sense. There was a sharp tug on the collar of his shirt, and he choked on the air that left him. When he was able to take another painful breath, he let out a laugh. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

"I'm scared," he whispered. His eyes fluttered shut as those fingers continued to pass through his curls. How he had missed her touch. The way she would care for him when he was sick. It was the only time she would hold him. All night long she would be beside him, fighting the monsters right alongside him with soft words and even softer touches.

"You don't need to be afraid, darling." Those words enveloped him, gave him hope in a promise he didn't know to be the truth or a lie. "It'll be like dreaming. The loveliest dream you could imagine."

Will could feel the grip he had on his mother's hand weaken and as much as he willed his body to obey him and grip her tighter, he found his fingers unresponsive. The tears burned as they slipped down his cheeks.

"I'm so tired, Mother."

"You can rest now, darling. I will be with you every step of the way."

At the edge of his consciousness, he could still hear the mess of sound, but it faded just like his pain did. It ebbed and flowed like the blood that had slipped into the silver basin during yesterday's letting.

"...ill..."

It was too loud.

"Willi..."

Make it stop.

"William."

No. Please.

The pain was increasing, each breath tearing Will in two. He was going to die. It hurt. It hurt ridiculously. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He was dying. God, he was dying.

"William!"


It was dark when Will found the strength to open his eyes. He thought he was seeing the heavens at first until his vision cleared enough to find an exorbitant number of lit candles. They littered every surface of his room to fight off the night that was creeping in from the outside.

Among the candles were several people as well. In a chair at the foot of his bed sat Margot. She was fast asleep, her head in his hand, propping herself up. Slumped over the table near the lit fireplace was the figure of a man, though Will found it difficult to name who in the shadows that were being cast about him. If Will had to guess, he would name the man as his physician. Beside him, Alana occupied another chair, and she too was fast asleep.

In the chair closest to the bed was Beverly. She held a book in her lap, though her eyes were drooping, and her head would lull forward every so often only for her to jolt awake again. She did just that and when she blinked the sleep away from her eyes, they fell on Will who was staring at her. There was a distance in those eyes as if he were still trying to fight his way back, but the hint of life sent her book shut and she sat up.

"Will." She sounded choked and tears began to roll down her cheeks. Will desperately wanted to wipe them away but found that he still couldn't lift his arms. "Thank God!" Will winced at how loud her voice was in its relief, though it couldn't have been that loud because everyone else in the room stayed dead asleep. "I thought we lost you."

"Bev..." Will trailed off, unable to form the rest of the name as a creature clawed at his throat.

"Shhh..." she hushed, setting the book aside. "There's no need to speak. Would you like some water?" Will nodded weakly, the world spinning as he did so. A cup was pressed to his lips and Beverly's hand helped support his head as he let the cold water run down his sore throat, helping cool it. "There you go." Will rested back down and he did his best to breathe in deeply, ignoring the aching in his ribs. "You scared us."

"What happened?" Each letter scorched him.

"Jimmy found me. He said you were calling for Hannibal. You were screaming. Shouting his name, over and over. You were delirious, saying you could see a little girl everywhere. And then you kept asking for your mom before you passed out."

"I don't remember that." Will let his gaze wander back around the shimmering room and found it void of Mischa. The only thing of hers was the ribbon that was still tied around his wrist. Will raised the hand to his chest, his other fingers playing with the silk. "Where is he?"

"The commander?" Beverly asked in surprise. "He's gone Will. He left yesterday to go back to Spain."

"But I..." Will sighed slowly, the air hard to find again.

"He will be fine if you're worried about him. You know as well as I do that, he's a tough bastard. He can hold his own."

"You sound disappointed." Will nearly laughed, but the air avoided him, and he coughed instead.

"And if I am?"

Will grinned and a light smile finally came to Beverly's face.

"It's just to make sure the treaties are signed, isn't it?"

"Yes," Beverly agreed. "But war is fickle."

"If I were to write him a letter, could I trust you to see it sent?"

"Perhaps when you are no longer on death's door." Beverly nodded. "But yes. I will see to it."

"I said horrible things to him before he left. I didn't get the chance to apologize."

"He can wait. And I hope I am not too bold in saying that he deserves nothing less for what he did to you."

"That soldier is the one you love then," a new voice muttered, soft and toneless. Margot rose to her feet and stepped closer to the bed, glancing between Beverly and Will. "The one who suggested the marriage?" Will nodded in answer. "I think it is best that we keep that information from my brother. He has been asking after the commander ever since our first day here."

"What does he want with the commander?" Beverly's tone was suspicious, and Will couldn't help but think that somewhere deep down she did care for Hannibal in an unconventional way. Maybe it was for Will's sake. Maybe it was for Hannibal's. Whatever the reason there was concern there.

"He keeps muttering that he recognizes the man from somewhere, but I haven't the faintest idea from where. We were only here once for that funeral when we were all children. So, unless the commander has been in my home, then I couldn't say."

Will couldn't bring himself to explain everything again. Especially to a stranger. Margot had been kind to him, but he still was unsure of the level of trust he could place in her. And if Mason really did recognize Hannibal, then the more he could keep Margot in the dark, the safer Hannibal's secret would stay. The safer they would all be. Mason couldn't torture the information from Margot if Margot didn't know.

Margot sat on the edge of the bed giving Will a soft look. "I won't mention a word of him to Mason."

"Thank you." Will let out another cough and Margot took his hand.

"It seemed like the pastilles and wine were helping. Would you like me to go to the kitchen and make some more?"

As much as Will despised the bitterness the cure left in his mouth, he did feel much better after partaking in the medicine. It was far kinder than Chilton's desires had been, and Will would happily drink boiling wine over letting another blade lance his arm again.

"I would appreciate that." Will's thumb brushed over the top of her hand, and she nodded in understanding. "Beverly, why don't you go with her?"

"You will be ok without me?" She glanced around the room hesitantly as if she were ready for Will to pass away the moment she stepped outside of the space.

"Alana and Chilton are here. I think I will be alright for a few minutes," Will assured. "But I must ask you something privately first. Would you mind excusing us for just a moment, Margot?"

"I'll just wait outside." She stood from the bed, giving a barely there smile before leaving the room. When the door was closed Will met Beverly's gaze in the twinkling light.

"All Margot knows about is that Hannibal and I have a relationship, nothing more. If you could please keep his identity from her, I would be forever grateful." Beverly's brows rose and she tipped her head in question. "I do not want to be the reason that Mason takes out his aggression on her. The less she knows-"

"-the safer she will be," Beverly said in unison with Will. "I see. I will not let a single word pass my lips."

"Thank you."

"And I will return swiftly." She rose from the chair and leaned over to kiss Will's head. "Please keep breathing until then. You scared me."

"I will do my best," Will agreed with an airy chuckle.


The days wore on slowly. Beverly and Margot would keep Will company as often as they could spare, but most afternoons Will found himself alone. He would stare out his windows from his bed, read, or sometimes if he was feeling strong enough, he could take a small walk around his room.

He found himself out on the balcony today, enjoying the way the spring sun was slowly fading into the heat of summer. It reminded Will of Hannibal's touches. How each one was the equivalent of the sun's rays, burning just the perfect amount.

His fingers twisted the ribbon on his wrist over and over in a comforting pattern. He watched as servants milled about doing their jobs. Some were carrying baskets of laundry back from the lines. Others were carrying armloads of wood for the fires in the kitchens. Some were dirty from working in the garden and dragged along with them items that had been harvested. Some would be served for that night's dinner and others would be preserved for the winter months that were going to come with a fierce blow as they always did.

He couldn't stop the smile that spread over his face as he found Beverly and Margot laughing as they passed beneath the tree in the courtyard. He could not hear their conversation, but the tones of their laughter were enough to paint his insides with warmth where the sun couldn't touch.

They waved to him before continuing on their way and Will was more than happy to know that they were getting along. Perhaps the plan that he and Margot had agreed to would work after all. It wasn't perfect, but they could live with it. Live happily and comfortably and not lose themselves in the process of their marriage.

"I heard we almost lost you a few nights, dear brother."

The warmth was stripped from his person at the words that came behind him. Will's grip on the ribbon tightened as the air was sucked from around him and he felt like he was gasping for air once more. The bruising on his body sparked alight with shadow pain. In the same way that Will could feel Hannibal's warmth on him, he could feel the strength of Mason on him.

His stomach turned and he closed his eyes tightly.

"It is a good thing that you had your physician on hand. I couldn't imagine what would have happened if he had been unavailable to aid you."

The threat in the words was cutting. If Will suddenly found his condition worsening then he shouldn't expect Chilton to come to his rescue. He shouldn't expect anyone to come to his rescue. He should simply wait for his strength to give out and for death to take him.

"Mason," Will greeted with a deep breath as he turned back towards his bedchamber. He found the crazed prince standing at the doorway of the balcony, much closer than Will had initially thought he would be. Under one arm was a parcel, thick and obviously laden with papers. In his hands Will found the paper wrapper with the chocolate sitting happily inside it. "You're not allowed in here. Where are my guards?"

Mason gave a toothy half grin, holding up the chocolate as the answer. Will's chest clenched and he glanced over Mason's shoulder and towards his closed bedroom door where Brian and James were meant to be stationed. His body held an odd mix of gratitude that Margot had warned him about the chocolate, but a strangling guilt that he hadn't thought to pass on the warning to his friends. He could only imagine what type of incapacitation they were in. It must have been strong if just a square of chocolate was enough to take them down.

"Would you like a piece?" Mason offered, though there was no kindness in his voice. Will shook his head and Mason frowned. "Very well." He folded the paper back around the chocolate and placed it back in his pocket just as he had at the fountain.

"What do you want, Mason?"

Faux surprise took over Mason's expression. "There's so much hostility in your tone, dear brother. I would hope that by the time the wedding comes around that we can straighten out our issues. Family should not fight."

"What do you want, Mason?" Will asked again, his patience running thin. He did his best to keep his wits about him, but his mind was stumbling through all of the possible things Mason could do to him and the idea of being pushed from the balcony was at the very top of the list.

"What do I want?" he echoed back as he stepped forward. "What do I want? What do I want? What do I want?" Will closed his eyes as Mason stopped beside him, overlooking the courtyard. "I want... to share something with you."

"And what could that possibly be?" Will didn't know if playing along or ignoring the man was the best choice of action, but he honestly wasn't sure what he could do to protect himself other than to just go along with the stream instead of against it.

"You're not using that mind you said you were so proud of," Mason scolded.

Will let his eyes open and he turned his head to look over Mason who was happily staring out at the view. "Does it have to do with the item under your arm?"

Mason turned to face Will with a crude grin and Will flinched as a hand graced his cheek, caressing it softly. "That's a bit better," he cooed. "Things work infinitely better when we use our minds, doesn't it?" Will's eyes just wandered Mason's face, taking in the way his nose still sat slightly crooked among deep bruising. "Silence gate on my nerves, brother. Best not keep me waiting for answers. We wouldn't want you to experience another tumble, now, would we?"

"No," Will answered thickly, his mouth so very dry as those fingers continued to stroke his cheek as if he were a pet. Will had to keep himself from biting the thumb that brushed over his lips.

"Good." It dripped with sticky honey sweetness and Will's knees went weak at it, as if giving out beneath him would help him escape from the fingers exploring the features of his face. "Now ask me what is in the parcel."

"What is in the parcel?"

The smirk he received was blinding. "I'm so glad you asked. I ran into one of your staff in the halls who was carrying it. I thought it odd as I had not seen any mail delivered today. So, I thought to myself, where did that come from?" His hand left Will's face and Will's lungs filled with air as if he could finally breathe again. "There was this note with it." Mason produced an envelope from his pocket and waved it about. Will's eyes followed it and his heart sank when he found a familiar penmanship used on it. "It is addressed to you. And of course, that piqued my interest."

He held out the envelope and Will could only find it in himself to stare at it. The wax seal was broken indicating that Mason had already gone through its contents. What did he know? What was he about to use against Will? What tortures were coming for him?

"Go on. You can have it, silly boy." The encouraging words forced Will to take the letter in a hand he was doing his best to keep from trembling. "Why don't you read it?"

Will licked his lips as he opened the envelope and pulled the paper from it. Hannibal's writing stared back at him, but he found the much more proper and put together letter of a subject than a lover and it brought a touch of relief to Will.

HIs Royal Highness, The Prince

This is all the information that I have gathered under your instruction. Please make sure Your Highness reads through it completely as it will answer many of the questions Your Highness has been asking.

Yours faithfully,

Commander Shikibu

Will lowered the letter and it was plucked from his hands by Mason who, with his forefinger and thumb, held it up to the sunlight as if he needed the blinding sun to read it. Before Will could open his mouth to say anything the letter was tossed over the balcony and Will turned to watch as it fluttered down to the courtyard below.

"Well, that letter got my mind thinking about all sorts of things. Ask me."

Will inhaled deeply, the breath sticking in his throat and unable to reach his lungs. "What sorts of things?"

"Like why one of your father's commanders, who you said you have never met before, had this addressed specifically to you. And the letter made it sound as if you two were rather close or at the very least working closely together. Close enough that he was searching for answers for you. And that brought me to this."

Mason pulled the package from under his arm and held it up for Will to inspect but did not indicate if Will should take it, so Will stayed still, staring at it. The seal on this was also broken and Will could only guess what type of items were waiting inside for him.

"What sort of things was he looking for, for you?"

Will closed his eyes and shook his head. "You were the one who read it. I'm sure you already know."

"It is quite an elaborate mess of documents that I cannot, for the life of me, fathom how they all work together. There are ledgers and logs, letters and documents. Some look as if they have been trapped in the rain for the last decade and others look as if they have seen the fire's touch."

Will's eyes shot open and that must have been enough of a give away because Mason ticked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shook his head. He opened the parcel and pulled all of the papers from Count Giuliano's study. Papers that Will had not had the chance to study, but Hannibal must have.

He had. Will mentally scolded himself for the fact that he was just now realizing what Hannibal had been trying to say to him the night he had left, and Will had been too wrapped up in his emotions to list.

It has been my responsibility since we were twelve. Since the moment my father's heart stopped beating. If you read those things we found in the-

If Will had just read the papers that they had found in the study then he would have understood. He would know why Hannibal did what he did. What lay in those pages that had sent them down this path? What had caused Hannibal to give their everything up? Will had suspected that there had been more behind it than what had been said that night. If he had just listened.

Will could only watch as Mason flipped through them, obviously still confused by them. A page was tossed to the courtyard below to join the letter. And then another. Mason looked utterly bored by the whole subject now and that would not fare well for Will.

"There were some curious things in these pages. I won't lie." Mason paused when he found a specific one, holding it up momentarily for Will to see. It was a letter written in his father's hand. The swirls were too elaborate for Will to make anything legible from them before it was tossed over the railing as well. "That one had some rather interesting information about a Lady Elizabeth de Bourgh. She was a favorite of King Sanford's. Could only begin to imagine what happened to her. But I'm sure that your commander friend can help you find the answer if he returns from Spain."

If.

Will despised the way Mason added emphasis on the conjunction. He knew something. Or he was hiding something. Something to do with Hannibal and the trip to Spain. The same trip that Will had been told by Alana, his father had conveniently avoided leaving on.

And Will didn't know what to make about the name Elizabeth de Bourgh. This was the first time he had heard of it. It had to have meant something if it had caught Mason's attention.

"Most of the rest of these pertained to Count Hannibal Lecter, who I believe is the child whose parents were viciously murdered. The same child whose family's funeral we attended here some years ago. Why were you looking into Hannibal Lecter if we all know what happened to him? He was banished by your father and sent to live somewhere in France. This has to be more than you just enjoying a good ghost story."

Will let a laugh come from him and he met Mason's eyes, taking in the slight surprise there at his outburst. "I'm afraid that is exactly what it is. I enjoy a good ghost story and what is better than one that happened right under our noses?"

Mason's gaze narrowed and he straightened up from where he had been leaning against the railing. Will gasped as the front of his dress shirt was snatched up, but he stood his ground. Those demented blue eyes searched over him, and Mason shook his head.

"I do not like liars, brother," he hissed lowly. He leaned in closer so that he was right at Will's ear. "You should find yourself ever so fortunate that you are not being thrown from this balcony. As much as I would find an exorbitant amount of joy from watching you fall, I have use for you." Will's cheeks were snatched up in a brutal grip from Mason's other hand and he glared at Mason, unable to physically do more than that. The exhaustion of his fever was pulling at him once more. "Now, let's try this again. Why are you looking for information on Hannibal Lecter?"

"I just wanted to know how his parents died," Will excused, finding it hard to speak with how forcefully his face was being held. "That's all, Mason."

The suspicion did not waver in that blue and Will's shirt was released. His face was turned towards the courtyard, and he watched as all of the papers he had spent a whole night gathering were tossed to the wind. They scattered, going every which way they pleased, sinking to the courtyard below.

"You would do well to stay out of other people's business that does not concern you. Is that understood?"

Will's hand took Mason's wrist and ripped Mason's hand from his face. He frowned at the sting that was left behind.

"Yes, Mason."