"Where did you get it?"

"Spain sends us boxes full. Please humor me. There's nothing wrong with a little indulgence," Mason pushed aggressively.

"No thank you, Mason," Will muttered as politely as his voice would allow, giving a tight-lipped smile and shaking his head. "I'm not much of a sweets person."

There was a huff of dislike as the paper was folded back over the chocolate and it was returned to Mason's pocket, leaving Will grateful for the lack of a fight.

"Very well," he grumbled, and Will knew that he was wrong to have not played the little game. He wasn't sure what his punishment would be, but he had broken the rules, and it was not going to end well for him.

"I've been informed that there was some issue with our navy entering your borders." Will tossed out the words like a bone, hoping that the beast would bite and be distracted long enough that Will could escape.

"Ah, yes. That is a shame really," Mason agreed with a nod, picking a new direction to take in the maze that only forced them deeper into it, the sound of running water becoming more than a faint whisper. "We have been working very hard with King Sandford on that aspect. It seems he just keeps sending ships into our territory. Now, what are we to do about that?"

"I'm assuming that is what our fathers are discussing, yes?"

"With that charming commander of yours, yes. I'm sure."

The words prodded and Will did his best to not show how uncomfortable they made him. He hated the way that Mason had snatched onto Hannibal in a warped sort of way. As if Mason could see everything fully without really needing to try, as if he knew the secrets that were living in the stone walls.

"Tell me about him. He was curious looking. I swear I recognized him from somewhere."

Will let his face turn to confusion and he glanced over at the eyes that were piercing through him.

"Then perhaps you ran across him while in Spain. He's been fighting there for the last few years. I have only just met him."

"I haven't been lucky enough to traverse Spain, unfortunately."

There was another turn and Will found himself somehow in the center of the maze. He recalled stumbling upon it once after having left a fight with his father in an angry haze, but he had never purposefully gone looking for the fountain.

It trickled happily, though the murmur did nothing to sooth Will's uneasiness. The fountain's basin, carved from smooth, ivory-hued marble, was adorned with intricate mythical creatures and scenes from forgotten legends. Water, clear as crystal, cascaded from the sculpted mouths of stone nymphs, their delicate features frozen in a moment of eternal grace. The waters gathered in the basin, reflecting the surrounding greenery with a mirror-like clarity. Lilies and lotus blossoms floated serenely on the surface, their petals kissing the water's edge.

The first time Will had been here he had been lost in timelessness. The world beyond the labyrinth seemed to fade into obscurity, leaving only the magic of this secret oasis. Only this time Will was horribly and acutely aware of every inch of his skin and the way it prickled as he tried to put space between Mason and himself by walking around the base of the fountain.

"This is a bit more to my liking," Mason announced, leaning back to gaze up at the stonework. "Much nicer than the gardens."

"Do you enjoy art then, Mason?" Will questioned, keeping Mason carefully in view.

"Not at all. I find people more interesting than art."

"Is that so?" Will asked with a pretend interest. He stopped to inhale deeply and try to calm the racing in his veins that was making him want to run, though he honestly wasn't sure how far he would be able to make it if he tried. He didn't know the way out. He would probably hit a dead end and have the chocolate shoved down his throat.

"Oh yes. They're silly little things, really. Thoughts trapped inside of meat. They enjoy creating things to put in order the things they created. It's quite maddening if you think about it for long enough."

"I suppose it would be," Will agreed, unsure of what else to say.

"Tell me Will." Mason had begun to pace lazily around the fountain and Will did his best to make sure that he could always see the man as he grew closer. "What do you value most?" There was something sparkling in those eyes that Will didn't like.

He couldn't tell where this conversation was going, but he wanted to change the direction. He just wasn't sure how to accomplish that. Especially not with the heaviness that Mason enveloped the air with. It was so concentrated that Will couldn't bring himself to move as his arm was seized up forcefully.

"Value?" Will found himself asking, trying to free his arm from Mason's grip without coming off as rude. "I'm not sure I understand what you're inquiring about."

"One of the things a king would never admit is the necessity to know, dear Will," he said, "To truly… know." Mason put too much intention in the last three words. "Everyone wants to be in the good graces of a king and of course a king must ask himself if his people really love him, trust him as kind enough to give them everything." His grip tightened despite Will's best efforts. "You might not know, but I am about to be king, and it is important that I learn what everyone values. To better serve them and myself, you see."

"Alright," Will muttered with a nod, doing his best to ignore the way the grip on him continued to tighten. It was bruising and Will pried at the fingers.

"I would think very poorly of you, dear Will, if books are what you value most."

"In that light then, what is what you most value?"

"Other people being afraid," he answered and for a moment Will felt envious. As sick as Mason was, he clearly knew who he was and how his life would be. Will had no idea what role he would play and how he would make it his own or even if he could, though he was certain to try. "And I promise to make you very afraid if your answer comes in the way of books."

Will was shoved away from Mason, the grip finally leaving him. He stumbled and struggled to catch himself, but when he did, his hand went to the phantom grip to rub at it. Will was Mason's new play toy and he had never wanted more in his life to be hidden away with a commander in a war meeting.

"I do not take kindly to silence, Will," Mason said forcefully, eyes shining as he stepped out onto the grounds, head turned up to the warm sun. "What do you value most?"

Will found his mouth dry and sticky and he took several steps back at Mason's advancement. The sun felt inordinately warm, and a cold sweat dripped down Will's back. His hands trembled slightly as his heart raced.

"Do you prefer to watch the fear in their person or does your delight rest in infliction?" Will questioned as calmly as he could, trying to level his thoughts and keep himself calm as he stepped further around the fountain to keep out of Mason's reach again.

The perverted smile that covered his lips made the heat around Will stutter to a shocking cold. Will's heart dropped. Will's eyes met Mason's and he let himself be pulled in the mad blue that waited for him there.

Mason was quickly back at his side, once more snatching up his arm in nearly the same position, the grip far worse than it had been the first time as Mason dragged him across the grounds and towards the quaint fountain that still chatted happily.

If Will hadn't been so stunned, he might have noticed the way that the ducks glided peacefully across the water, the way that the plants graced the surface with lovely yellow flowers blooming, the way the splashing water danced in the light spring breeze.

"If I yield my answer to you, dear boy, will I get an answer in return?" Mason questioned softly in Will's ear; breath hot against Will's skin.

Will's heart puttered in his chest as the fountain neared and he wondered if Mason had been able to see right through him. See every piece of him, the good and the bad. Will was turned to face Mason's grin and the back of his legs hit the edge of the basin. The grip on his arm was the only thing keeping his balance as he was shoved backwards.

"Something much smarter than books," Will stuttered out, his own hand fighting against Mason's grip, knowing that he couldn't escape it, but hoping to lessen the brutality of it. He wanted it gone, even if he did fall into the fountain. He didn't care. He just wanted to be away from Mason Verger.

"I enjoy inflicting," Mason answered, voice still just as soft as it had been before. "And you are not disappointing in that aspect."

"I'm glad I could assist in your amusement," Will gasped out, nails digging into Mason's hand, surprised at the strength that was further inflicted on him.

"Your turn, darling," Mason hissed, shoving Will further out over the water in a way that made Will's spine bend awkwardly. "What do you value?"

My life, Will almost shouted.

How utterly common, Mason would reply.

"My mind," Will decided on. "My mind is what I value most."

That seemed to stop Mason in his tracks, and he gave a thoughtful sort of look, head tipped to the side, hair wild as it blew in the wind. "You might be the first person who does not have their priorities horribly misplaced."

"I do request that you indulge me a little further, Will," Mason said and that hope quickly died, leaving Will feeling sick. "What do you fear?"

Will felt a nervous smile grace his lips and he gave a laugh. He wondered how he would be fairing if Margot was present, or possibly if Hannibal could rescue him just as he seemed to rescue everything. What would have happened if he had taken the chocolate?

"For you to use against me?" Will asked.

"To let me know you. What are you afraid of?" Mason asked once more and Will licked his lips, glancing around him to find anything to save him. His hand was starting to go numb. He wiggled his fingers to try to get feeling back but it did nothing to help. "Silence, Will. I shall hate to have to remind you of my distaste for it."

Will must have taken far too long to answer because everything seemed to stall, each moment playing out in linear order instead of all at once. There was a breath stealing shove against Will's chest and as Will's balance was completely lost to him. He fell, down, down, down. And the water was cold as it touched his skin. It sucked the heat from him and the breath.

In panic, Will inhaled and the burn was instant as water flooded his lungs, hands clawing to reach the edge of the shockingly deep fountain. He coughed; bubbles free flowing from his lips. He could faintly feel something grasp at his head, but the light around him was making way for darkness while the burn in his lungs eased.

He was able to push himself to the surface long enough to catch a single breath of air and find those cruel blue eyes above him before the punishing grip on his hair forced him back under the water. His back hit the bottom of the fountain.

The world around him began to shimmer as he fought the grip on him as a new hand pinned his throat down. He clawed at it as harshly as he could with his nails. He tried to push himself up, but Mason was too strong.

He kicked and it wasn't until his heel got caught on the side of the basin that his fogging mind collected itself. His boots slipped as he attempted to hook them to the inside lip of the basin.

He was going to have to lay here and wait. Hope that someone saw him, heard him, that someone did something. And that has been the worst part so far. The waiting. He couldn't wait. His lungs were burning, begging for air. He needed it, his body craved it. And he knew there was none, he would find none, but he couldn't not breathe.

His body forced him to inhale, and the burn stole any satisfaction of breathing. It only made him feel heavier, as if he couldn't lift himself from the bottom of the fountain even though he knew he only had to sit up.

His chest jumped as his boots finally found purchase and he kicked off the side of the basin as hard as he could. The grip broke. Will shattered the surface, gasping. His vision was spotted, and he couldn't find where Mason was, but he didn't care. He just had to get away. He pushed himself backwards, hands feeling until he was pressed up against the center of the fountain and trapped.

He coughed, the burning inescapable. There was a burning match in his lungs just like there had been so many years ago when Hannibal had tried to do just the same thing to him. The dizziness churned his stomach and before he could stop it, his muscles contracted, emptying his stomach. He couldn't stop the whine that escaped him as everything blurred and his stomach lurched once more, dumping whatever water he had swallowed back into the fountain.

He nearly screamed when a hand took his shoulder and he fought against the grip that lifted him from the fountain. If it was Mason, he didn't think he had enough strength to fight him off again. He had just been lucky enough to escape this time.

But the grip, though firm, was nothing controlling like Mason's had been. It took a while for it to register in Will's mind and when it finally did, when the chaos finally cleared, he was able to place who was holding him like a child and carrying him back through the maze,

"Jack?" Will croaked out, a hand going to his throat that felt like it had been ripped to shreds. "How did-"

"Your friends saw you from the balcony," Jack informed. "I just happen to know the maze better than the two idiots."

"How?"

"My wife hasn't been sleeping well lately. We go on walks."

"Where's Mason?" Will covered his mouth as he coughed again, his lungs wanting to run away from his body. Jack's grip tightened on him as his body convulsed to make sure that he didn't drop the prince.

"Brian and James will find him. You are my concern, not that dull-minded nuisance."

When they reached the exit of the maze, Jack let Will back to his feet and Will clutched onto Jack's arm to keep upright. He couldn't stop coughing. His body doubled over as another fit hit him, and he dry heaved. It was as if his body had run out of things to expel and was trying to remove his organs now.

"Release me!" Mason's voice shouted from somewhere behind Will and Will's spine went rigid. He straightened himself up, wiping his mouth, though it did nothing with how wet he still was. "How dare you?"

Will felt himself being pulled protectively behind Jack's larger frame and he watched as James and Brian drug Mason from the maze, both needing to be there to level out the strength Mason had. Red flowed freely from Mason's nose, and it sat crooked now. Will could only think that maybe Brian or James had hit him.

It wasn't until a glare was shot at him with those menacing eyes that Will realized that he must have kicked Mason in the face when trying to get away. That would have been the only release he could have possibly achieved when he couldn't even force himself to sit up.

"What is going on here?" Molson demanded, rushing from the lines of trees and to them. "Release my son at once!"

"He is not going anywhere," Jack growled and for once Will was grateful to find himself being protected by the voice rather than on the receiving end of it. "Not until we settle this."

"What happened?" Sanford demanded, coming to the clearing as well. Will nearly wanted to cry when he saw Hannibal right behind his father. Hannibal's eyes held an intensity in them that Will wasn't sure he had ever seen from the man before, but all Hannibal did was stay by Sanford's side. It would be inappropriate for them to engage now in the open. "William, out with it."

"I-" Will's squeak was interrupted.

"Prince Mason was drowning him, Your Majesty," Brian cut in, a bitterness in his tone that had never belonged there.

"We saw him holding His Highness under the water in the fountain," Jimmy continued, struggling to keep a hold on Mason when the boy tried to free himself.

Will could feel Hannibal's eyes search him, heat searing Will's skin, anger throughout. But the man stayed silent, though a shout was bated on the tip of his tongue. One wrong thing said, and Hannibal would snap.

"We were just fooling about," Mason defended. "We simply got carried away. He kicked me. I would say we're even."

"Boys will be boys, Sanford," Molson excused with a smile and a laugh that quickly turned into just as harsh a cough as Will's. A handkerchief was brought to the man's lips as he coughed into it and when it was pulled back, Will swore he saw crimson staining the white fabric before it was shoved away into a pocket. Mason hadn't been lying about shortly becoming king after all. "I say that it was a moment of innocent fun, wouldn't you?"

If Hannibal had the ability to kill by just glaring Will was certain that both Molson and Mason would be obliterated. Hannibal's hands had become fists at his side and his jaw was clenched tightly. He wanted to say something, Will could see it bright as day in the way he stood. If his position had allowed, the knight would not have stayed silent.

"Innocent fun?" Jack demanded, a hand protectively taking Will's shoulder. "He needs to see a doctor. That is not innocent fun."

Will glanced around the group, trying to find something to say, anything at all. In the distance he could see Margot and Bedelia making their way over and he couldn't stand the thought of what Mason would do to his sister if Will didn't play along. For her sake, he could keep everything running smoothly.

But it wasn't until Will spotted Mason's amused smirk that it all clicked into place in his head. Mason had done it on purpose. That much had been clear from the beginning, but the reasoning behind the attack was something far deeper than just Mason being deranged. He had been instructed to do it. Not drowning Will exactly but hurting him had always been the desired result. Molson looked a little too pleased with his son.

Will didn't enjoy conflict though and he wasn't about to let something break out between the two kingdoms while he had a chance to cushion the blow. He didn't need an all-out war to break out just because he had almost found his maker in the fountain. Not yet at least. Not while they were here in person. Not while there was still so much work being done on the treaty with Spain. They couldn't afford the brunt of another war so soon. Not until negotiations were complete.

The yelling had gotten out of hand and by the time Will had gathered his thoughts he swore Hannibal was about to open his mouth. But Beverly had been correct. The situation was far too fragile to treat with the same carelessness that it had been receiving.

"We got carried away," Will cut in, doing his best to make his voice louder than a rasp. The conversation around them stopped and Will caught Margot's eyes. They held a warning in them. A warning that he would end up just like her if he let Mason win. But there was so much more at stake here than just Will. "It was all an accident."

"William," Sanford sighed, sounding tired. He pinched the bridge of his nose and his eyes squeezed shut. "You made us interrupt our meeting for some harmless fun?"

Hannibal's fists shook at his side and Will did his best to ignore the hatred bubbling off the man as he nodded, pushing through with his lie.

"I'm sorry, Father. It won't happen again."

"Taylor, would you please make sure that William is seen by Doctor Chilton as a precaution." Sanford waved his hand as if to dismiss Jack. "Molson, could we pick up the rest of our conversation after this evening's meal? I believe that we should have Chilton look over your son as well if you're agreeable."

"I would appreciate that," Molson agreed with a nod.

"Shikibu, you are dismissed. We will gather again this evening."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Hannibal agreed with a surprising collectiveness to his tone. "I will be there."

"Good." Sanford nodded before turning back to Molson. "In the meantime, would you like to visit my private reserves? I might have..."

Will let his father's words disappear as the two kings turned to head back to the castle. Mason ripped himself free from James and Brian and sneered as he passed Will to gather with Bedelia and Margot.

"I will send the physician to tend to you," Jack informed, though his words were not kind in any manner. "If you would retire to your chambers, I will send him there."

"I will take care of it," Bedelia's cool voice assured, her hand snatching up Mason's arm with a harshness that must have taught Mason the skill.

It wasn't until the three had faded nearly from view that Hannibal finally stepped closer.

"I will make sure His Highness gets to his chambers if you want to locate the doctor," he offered and Jack nodded, setting off without another word. Will did his best to keep his balance on shaky limbs until Jack was far enough away that he could grasp Hannibal for support. "Will." There was worry mixed with relief in the word as Hannibal scooped Will from his feet and into his arms. "You scared me."

Will rested his head on Hannibal's shoulder, closing his eyes as he was carried back to the castle in Hannibal's kind grip. Will shivered at the breeze that blew against his damp skin and another bout of coughing drug nails up his throat.

"I'm never leaving you alone again," Hannibal continued. "Not while that piggish-"

"I'm ok," Will assured.

"That's not the point!" Hannibal snarled. His footsteps paused and he closed his eyes with a deep breath. "You're ok now, but what about in the future? They will be here for at least the rest of the week."

"You will be needed at the assemblies, I am sure. There is-"

"I will find a way."

"We need to be practical." Will let his hand rest against Hannibal's chest, finding the heartbeat still steady despite the outrage still radiating from the man. "I will assign James and Brian to be my guard while the Vergers are still here."

Hannibal sighed and fell silent as they entered the grand hall and went to the stairs. Hannibal took them steadily, making Will feel as if he were no heavier than a loaf of bread. The movements were easy, simple.

"Will you stay with me?" Wil questioned when they reached his room. "If you are not otherwise engaged."

"I feel like I must inform Beverly of what happened, but then I will be by your side until this evening. I don't trust Brian and James as sufficient in the ability to take care of you." Hannibal stopped at the door to Will's room and carefully set Will back on his feet.

"I trust them." Will gave Hannibal a half smile. "They will do until you are able to be by my side."

"I suppose they will have to."

"Your Highness," a voice called from down the hall to reveal a man with dark hair and beard coming towards them. Will had never much cared for Doctor Frederick Chilton. Chilton was a bitter, rude, and lonely man driven by his ego and it stained every interaction they had ever had. "Would you be kind enough to tell me what happened?"

"I had an accident with the fountain," Will explained, throat still raw. "I hit my head and was under the water for a while."

"That is rather unfortunate. How about we get you into something dry and I will check you over and make sure you're well." Chilton opened the bedchamber door and Will pulled himself from Hannibal's supporting grip to enter the room.

"Tell Beverly I'm alright," Will instructed, doing his best to put an official air to his words. "And then return here when you're done. I believe I have some mail that I received this morning that I need to look over."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Chilton warned, motioning Will into the room.

"Right away, Your Highness," Hannibal agreed softly, bowing before heading down the hall.

Will entered his room and allowed himself to be helped from his still dripping clothes and into something fresh. He took a seat near the unlit fireplace and leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes. His throat and lungs ached, and he couldn't exactly recall having expelled the water that he unquestionably ingested, but he supposed that didn't matter. Neither did the harsh pulsing ache in his arm. He honestly was exhausted and wanted to sleep, not think about the future Mad King of Germany.

Will's arm was taken in a grip that was nowhere near as kind as Will wished it were. The fabric of his shirt was pushed up to the point where fingers began to gingerly press into where Mason's hand had once been. Will gasped as pain shot down his arm and tried to pull free, but Chilton's grip held iron strong.

Will's eyes opened and he sat up, looking down at his arm that was deeply bruised in brilliant purples in the exact shape of Mason's hand. Will swore he could see the swirl of the prints of Mason's fingertips in his skin.

"And this was due to your tumble into the fountain?" Chilton questioned, his fingers still prodding. "As is the bruising on your neck?"

"Yes," Will replied, a hand going to his throat at the ragged sound that it produced.

The fingers on his arm left and his chin was grabbed, his face being turned to face Chilton. "Open your mouth, Your Highness. I need to check your throat." Will did as he was told and tried to ignore the way that Chilton got far closer than he wanted. Will's head was tipped a bit further back before he was released, obviously satisfying the doctor in some aspect or other. "Your throat looks irritated, but it's nothing that something warm to drink and some rest won't fix. Bed rest for the rest of the evening. Can I listen to your lungs?"

Will gave a nod, sitting up fully in the chair when he was instructed to. Clinton knelt before Will and Will tossed his gaze out of the window when Chilton's ear pressed to his chest.

"Stay still for me," Chilton instructed. "Breathe in for me. A deep breath." Will obeyed, inhaling as deeply as his body would allow and wincing at the dull pain there. It was a stitch in the side of his chest. "Once more, please." There was something hot in his lungs on the next breath and he couldn't hold back the coughing fit that hit him. "Bed rest, Your Highness. We need to be careful these next few days so that you don't catch Winter's Fever. I will have someone bring you some tea."

"Thank you," Will muttered when Chilton got to his feet and left the room. Will adjusted his shirt sleeve as he stood. A hand shot to his chest as he coughed again, and he found himself taking the edge of the bed for support when his knees gave way beneath him.

"Will," a voice gasped out before hands were all over him, helping him straighten up. Before he could catch his breath, he was guided into his bed and forced to lie down. When his coughing let up enough for him to breathe and wipe away the tears that were gathering in his eyes, he found Beverly and Hannibal at his bedside. "Look at you," Beverly pressed, a hand taking Will's cheek and tipping his head side to side to better look over him. "Look what that monster did to you."

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Will teased, voice rough. At a sudden wave of dizziness, Will let his head fall back onto the pillow and he closed his eyes.

"No," Beverly reprimanded lightly. "I'm just worried about you."

"I'm alright."

"I'm going to slit his throat." Beverly's hiss pulled a smile to Will's lips.

"You and Hannibal. You'll have to share."

"Fine by me," Hannibal grumbled. "So, help me, if he touches you again, I will-"

"He won't," Will assured. "Chilton has instructed bedrest and if I lick my palms, perhaps I can stay in bed the rest of the week."

"Lick your palms?" Beverly questioned, but Will knew he had finally pulled some light into the situation at a huff of laughter from Hannibal. "Never mind," she excused with a sigh. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No Beverly. You've done more than enough." Will opened his eyes as her hand gripped his tightly. Concern was flooding her dark eyes and Will frowned. He sat up and placed a hand to her cheek, leaning over and kissing her forehead. "I'm sorry for everything." The words were soft. "Once I am well, we will have that conversation. I promise that I will explain everything."

"Rest please." Beverly's hand gave Will's a squeeze and she released it, standing upright. She straightened her skirt and gave Will a slight smile. "I'll bring you something to eat in a few hours."

Will nodded and watched as the woman left the room, pulling the door closed behind her. Will settled back in the bed, closing his eyes once more. The scrape of a chair being pulled to the bedside sounded and Will could hear a breath of air from Hannibal as the man sat down.

"Will, I-"

"Can we not talk about it, please?" Will opened his eyes to find Hannibal leaning over, elbows on his knees. HIs hands were covering his mouth, and those bloody red eyes were flipping through such an extreme number of emotions that Will began to grow dizzy once more. "I promise I'm ok."

"Fine." The word was sharp, final. A brutal acceptance of Will's unwillingness to relieve what he had just gone through. "What should we discuss then?"

"Did you bring the letters?"

"In a moment," Hannibal assured. He leaned back in his chair to reveal a stack of them on his lap. "The doctor mentioned someone was going to bring you tea."

"Yes."

"Then it's best we wait until we have a touch of privacy, yes?"

"Then can I ask you something?" Will wasn't sure how much longer his voice was going to hold on. It was already growing weaker by the syllable. Hannibal leaned back in the chair, one hand gathering the letters while the other helped adjust one ankle onto his opposite knee. "Why did you keep your banishment a secret?"

Hannibal froze, clearly caught off guard by the question. He rubbed his chin and licked his lips before releasing a rather loud breath through his nose.

"A few reasons," he began with a shrug. "One being that I didn't know you well enough to know if you could keep the secret."

Will could feel the sharp sting of the confession and he wanted to bark something back, but Hannibal was not wrong. They had only just become reacquainted with each other. Two weeks as children would be nothing to show what Will had grown into. He couldn't be trusted fully. Not right away. He couldn't blame Hannibal for that, but the answer felt weak.

"And the second reason?" Will pressed.

Hannibal's attention turned out the window towards the balcony and Will couldn't help but love the way that the sunlight splashed Hannibal's skin in a wonderful golden glow. He looked kingly. He could have a crown on his head and sit on a throne and everyone would be none the wiser. He held himself with the same regality, the same purpose that he had when they were children. It was hard to believe that he was no longer a count.

"It is petty, I suppose. I didn't know if you would look at me the same."

Will's lips turned into a confused smile. "I'm not sure I understand your meaning."

Hannibal cleared his throat, eyes returning their attention back to Will. "When we were younger you used to look at me like I had made the stars. Like somehow, I was equal to you. Like my title was the exact same as yours. And you have always made such a big deal out of our titles that I thought that if I returned to you with nothing to my name, no money, no land, no reputation, then you would regard me differently."

"Hannibal," Will whispered, the smile falling as his chest clenched.

"I'm just a knight, Will. Commander, Sir, soldier, none of it means anything. I don't own my name. It is not mine. And I could not bear the thought of seeing you again and having you look down on me like you did when I asked you to take care of Guillaume." Hannibal rested his head in his hand, eyes wandering over Will slowly. "That is why I did not tell you."

"You doubted my character so much that-"

"I doubted myself," Hannibal quickly corrected. "I doubted that I had made such an impression on you that you would remember me fondly. I suppose the missing letters would have helped." Hannibal chuckled dully.

A knock at the door interrupted them and Alana stepped into the room with a cup of steaming tea. She gave a slight bow and placed the cup on the bedside table.

"Are you feeling alright, Your Highness?" she questioned, stealing a swift glance over at Hannibal.

"Yes. Thank you," Will answered, throat on fire.

"Of course. Don't hesitate to let us know if you need anything else." Alana gave another excusing bow and Will didn't miss the way she eyed Hannibal on the way out of the room.

The door was closed, and Will opened his mouth to speak, but Hannibal cut him off with a raised envelope. "We should let your voice rest and you should drink your tea," he said, getting to his feet and coming over to sit on the edge of the bed, letters still in hand. "Shall we read them together?"