Hot tears raced down his cheeks and he could only stare at the floor. This was not how his life was meant to go. This was not how any of this was meant to go. Hannibal was meant to come home. He was going to rule this kingdom by Will's side. It was going to be the four of them changing everything for the better and it was gone. In a single puff of smoke, it had gone out like the flame of a candle.
The door to the wedding hall opened just far enough for a head to pop around the corner. Some maid or other, Will couldn't see enough to tell who it was.
"Your Majesty, the bride is ready whenever you are," they said before the door was closed politely again.
Will sucked in a deep breath that shook horribly. He wiped at the tears on his cheeks with his sleeves before he pushed himself to his feet. His knees wobbled beneath him, and he took the wall for support. He had to do this. If this marriage did not take place, he would be as good as dead. His father might run him through right then and there and Will doubted anyone would bat an eye.
Despite how frightfully Will despised his father in this moment, his little games and tests to prove his worth, his father was correct. This was where he needed to show who he was. Show that he was strength. That he always had been and now there was not going to be a single person to step in his way. Hannibal wouldn't want him to just stutter and die. He would keep going, keep pushing, keep working. Hannibal would not give up and neither would Will.
He cleared his throat and pushed his curls from his face. His fingers worked on adjusting his cloak about him and with one more pass of his hands over his cheeks, he turned towards the doors. He pushed them open and stepped back into the hall that was no longer colorful. The choir sang his heart and he wondered who else could hear how it was breaking.
Will made his way through the crowd and to the altar where the bishop was looking over him with concern. Mason stood beside him with a curious look on his face, lips tipped into the slightest smile. Will didn't pause in his steps, though he knew what was coming. Something else was about to fall apart and he wasn't about to let that happen without a fight.
He came to a stop when a hand took his arm and he glanced down at Beverly before his gaze returned to Mason. Concern was deeply etched into her person and her grip was unyielding.
"You do not have to do this," she whispered to him. "I do not care what your father said to you or what you feel like you are required to do at this moment. I care about you and you do not need to go through with this."
"He would not want-"
"He is not here," Beverly hissed, pulling Will back when he tried to walk away. "We can talk to Margot. She will understand."
"The Kings won't." Will inhaled deeply, eyes only on how Mason's smile slowly grew. "Without this, I have nothing. I am nothing. We both know it."
"No one else has to."
"Let go of me, Beverly." Will tried to step away again but was stopped. "I do not want to be unkind to you, but this is not the moment to be trying my patience. Release me, this moment." Beverly's grip loosened immediately, and she stepped back with a small bow to save face before stepping away. Will straightened his sleeve and began the, what felt like, fathoms long walk to the altar. "Your Majesty." Will bowed his head. "Forgive me for the delay. I am-"
"This wedding will not be proceeding," Mason informed, hands clasping behind his back loudly.
Will's brows pulled together. "I do not understand."
"We have been informed of issues with you performing your husbandly duties," the bishop replied as if he had room to speak.
Will heart sank lower. His hands grew clammy and sweaty at his sides, and he clenched them into fists to keep them from shaking. He shook his head and licked his lips. He couldn't do this. Not now. He just needed one thing to go as they had planned.
"Issues performing my-"
"Royal marriage is all about good breeding, dear William." Mason's words were blunt. He licked at one of his sharp teeth, smile somehow twisting even larger. "And I do not find you fit for my sister."
"Where did these accusations come from?" Will tried to give a nonchalant chuckle, but it failed miserably. "I can assure you that I have no-"
"Can you assure us, though?" Mason pressed, head tipping to the side like a mut.
The idea burst from Will in desperation and not because he had actually put any thought into it. He felt disgusted the moment the words left his mouth. His skin crawled.
"A bedding ceremony, if we must." As Mason's smile dipped just slightly, Will couldn't help but feel as if he had gained some footing in this moment.
"Margot wouldn't like that." Mason's eyes turned to the ceiling in thought, and he let the conversation fall into a silence that had Will and the bishop trading glances. "It could be a possible answer to our conundrum. Should we ask her what she thinks?"
"I seem to recall you not deeming your sister's opinion to be one of high nature." Will wanted to shut himself up. He wanted to slap himself across the face. What was he doing? He was putting Margot's trust in him at risk so he could do what? Grasp at breadcrumbs?
"I would love to express my concerns to your father and then perhaps we can have your lovely friend fetch Margot for us, yes?" Mason's eyes were calculating as they traced the full length of Will. If they were alone, Will would have punched the man. He would end it right here and now instead of waiting until after the ceremony. "Why don't you go ask her to find my sister while the adults speak?"
Will's jaw clenched tightly, but he gave a single, firm nod. "As you wish." Will turned away from the two men and scanned the crowd for Beverly. He found her standing near Brian and James and he inhaled a deep breath of courage before moving towards them. The crowd separated for him and he couldn't bring himself to meet Beverly's gaze when he was before her. He stared at his feet and swallowed thickly. "Will you bring Margot to us, please? We have some things that need to be addressed swiftly."
Will could sense the group sharing their own silent looks before Beverly unfolded her arms from across her chest. "Are you going to be alright?"
"I don't know," Will whispered, his shoes blurring with new tears threatening to fall. "This is a delicate situation though, and I ask that you act with haste. Please."
"I will return in a moment."
She left the group and Will closed his eyes tightly, a hand reaching up to rub at his eyes in an attempt to keep the tears from flowing. He inhaled deeply and looked up at Brian and James. His jaw quivered and he ground his teeth together.
"I need your answer soon, if you are able to provide it for me." He cleared his throat with a small nod. "If this arrangement does not go as planned tonight, then I will need to take things into my own hands. I hope you will both be beside me."
"Just give us the signal," James answered in as low of a voice as Will to keep them unheard.
"You have our support."
Brian's words sent a mixture of surprise and hope through Will's blood. He had to consciously shut his mouth as it fell open. He took in the slight reluctance on Brian's face, but he knew Brian had meant what he said. They wouldn't betray him. They would fight for him and he would be forever grateful to them. Forever in their debt.
"Thank you." Will's lips trembled as he tried to provide a reassuring smile.
"We're sorry, Your Highness." Brian's words once more caught Will off guard, but they pushed that hope further through him.
"Your loss is not absent to us," James added on. He nodded his head behind Will and Will insides died. "I believe you are needed."
Without a word, Will turned and forced his body to move back in the direction of the altar where his father and Margot now stood. Margot's dress was the richest red Will thought he had ever seen, and it made his insides ache with the want to see Hannibal's eyes once more.
He came to stand beside her, doing his best to ignore the murmurs that were beginning to infest the guests. He leaned over to Margot who was looking at him in confusion. He couldn't ask this of her. He was no better than a pig. He was no better than his father.
"Please," he begged in a whisper.
Her expression was only ever more confused when he pulled away from her.
"Margot," Mason announced, voice rather louder than what was necessary. But the man loved the dramatics. This was going to be a show and Will was going to be the one being pelted with food when it went up in flames. "We have been discussing the legitimacy of this marriage."
"I am unsure as to what you are referring to," she said, her voice thankfully far softer than Mason's.
"Without consummation, a marriage is not seen as binding in the eyes of God and will be annulled," the bishop explained and once more Will couldn't help but feel the man was unneeded in this conversation.
"I think we are all aware of that." Margot shot a look at Will who did his best not to meet it head on. He couldn't bear the thought of how her face would drop when Mason finally let the arrow loose. "Why is this an issue?"
"Certain inclinations have been brought to light regarding your future husband," Mason said. How long had he known? Had it been from the first glance Hannibal and Will had shared at the foot of the stairs in the grand hall when he had been greeting them that first day? Had it been after the fountain when Sanford had supposedly discovered their relationship? Had it been when they first met as children? There were hours when Hannibal was grasping so tightly to Will's hand that he could feel it now. "Tendencies that cannot be overlooked."
"Can we get to the point please?" Margot gave an exasperated sigh. "We have a job to do and everyone is waiting for us to perform said duty."
"We find that the prince is unfit to perform the consummation," the bishop piped up, hands gripping his bible tightly. "He has offered the option of a bedding ceremony to put these doubts to rest."
Will could feel both his father's and Margot's gazes snap to him, but he kept his focus solely on Mason. This was the moment of truth. The moment that the seams were pulled tight and secured or left to completely fragment and disintegrate.
"We thought it imprudent to leave your voice out of this, dear sister." Mason's tone was sticky sweet like honey and Will bit his tongue at the shiver it sent through him.
"You honestly find him unable to perform his duties?" Margot snapped at her brother. "That is the most outrageous-"
"Either you perform the ceremony or this marriage will halt here."
Mason's words were unequivocal. There were no other choices in his eyes. This was exactly where he wanted them the entire time and Will had been far too blind to notice it. This marriage was never going to happen. It had been doomed from the moment Mason had been crowned. It had only been allowed to proceed so far as to put Will further into a choke hold. He was going to lose the faith of his people before he had even gained it. His kingdom was going to be stripped from him and there was not going to be one thing he could do.
"No." Margot shook her head, stepping away from the altar and Will's side, leaving Will standing cold. Their promise had been the only thing that had allowed Margot to agree in the first place. With that promise stripped off the table, there was nothing Will could do and his stomach churned that the suggestion had left him. He had betrayed her all for his selfish needs. He was going to be sick. What kind of monster was he becoming? "That hideous ritual will not happen."
"Then we return home this moment."
"Mason, please," Sanford swiftly jumped in, very obviously just as desperate as Will had been. It was funny just how their reasonings had aligned on this one issue. "We can discuss-"
"There is nothing to discuss." Mason dismissed Sanford with a wave of his hand. He stepped around the altar and snatched up Margot's arm, pulling her along with him.
Will closed his eyes tightly, bowing his head. This was not how this night was meant to go. Not a single moment of it.
Fuck.
"Mason!" Margot argued, though her voice was nearly engulfed by the outbreak of the crowd around them.
"Disperse everyone," Sanford ordered the bishop. Will jumped as his arm was snapped up with a searing grip. "And you will wait here for your punishment once I have salvaged what you were meant to handle."
Will was released with such force that he stumbled, having to catch himself as his cloak took his balance away. Sanford followed after Mason and Margot, leaving Will with the bishop who looked just as at a loss as Will felt.
The bishop maneuvered around the altar to obey his order and Will unlatched the cloak from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. His body wished to follow along with it. He wanted to return to the earth right then and there.
A hand took his shoulder, and he met Beverly's gaze. She had her lips bit between her lips and was utterly silent. Will had never wanted to be wrapped up in a hug so fervently before, but with all the whisperings and eyes on him, he held himself in place.
"Where?" Will asked, voice cracking in his throat. "Where was he?"
"The Mary Rose sank in the Solent, the strait north of the Isle of Wight," Beverly offered out. "Two days ago. The wreckage was searched, and all crew was accounted for."
"No." Will shook his head, trying to hold back his tears. One of his hands went to his waist and the other covered his mouth. "They were so close to the port. Almost home. He couldn't be among them."
"Everyone was accounted for." Beverly's words were firm, forcing the truth home.
"The letter had to have been forged. Was it in my father's hand? Or possibly-"
"It was from the Duke of Wessex. It had his crest on it."
Will bit his bottom lip and exhaled deeply, lowering his hands back to his side. He cast a look around the room that was slowly being emptied and his focus was pulled to where his father was striding up the hall, fuming. Will pulled Beverly's hand from his arm and turned to her.
"Leave," he whispered hurriedly. "I do not want you to see this."
"See what?" Beverly tried to turn her head to see where Will had looked, but Will caught her cheek in his hand and shook his head in warning.
"Will you please have Chilton sent to my room?" Beverly's face paled, but she gave a nod in complete understanding. A broken smile covered Will's lips and he kissed his friend's cheek. "Go."
"But Will-"
"I'll be ok," he assured, nodding her away.
Beverly hesitantly stepped back and pulled from his grip, before rushing to follow the crowds that were still patiently waiting to leave the hall. King Sanford was given complete openness and the ability to walk unobstructed and into the room. No one dared stand in his way.
Will loosened the fabric of his collar and then the buttons at his wrists. He mentally prepared himself for what was coming, but it did nothing to prepare him for the first blow. Sanford's hand gripped Will's shoulder fiercely and a fist collided with his gut. It was unceremonious, cruel, brutal, and sent Will straight to his knees.
He gasped as something inside of his body spasmed violently while the air that had been lost to him attempted to return. He didn't know if there were still people in the room or if they were alone, but he supposed it didn't matter.
A burning filled his torso and his arms wrapped around his body as his stomach emptied itself out onto the floor. Tears pricked Will's eyes and he shut them tightly, a sob leaving him.
"You're exactly as I thought you would be," Sanford spat. Will gasped as his curls were seized and he was dragged to his feet by them. "You're nothing!"
The rings seared with a familiar intensity as they met Wil's face. The stickiness of blood trickled down his cheek. It was shredded, ripped apart at another punch. Then another.
The room was bright. It spun. It tasted of copper. Of rust. Of salt.
Will couldn't hold up his body as it was dropped. It collided with the floor and the thud echoed through his head. He could feel the bloody drool leaking from his slack jaw.
The toe of a boot connected to his ribs, and he curled in on himself, the breath once more stole from him. He did his best to block his face from the attack with his arms, but the boot met them.
Will wished it hurt more. Wished that his father could make the pain in his heart a whisper amidst the physical. He begged that his father continue. Begged that it would consume him. He didn't want to think of anything anymore. Feel anything anymore. He wanted to be lost to those ocean waves. Drowned in the deep darkness.
"Pathetic, useless, weak disappointment!"
Will wasn't sure when his mind checked back into the insults that were being hurled at him from his father. They did little to sting now. The years had worn them down to a dull tap rather than a stinging plunge.
"Get up," Sanford ordered as the onslaught paused. Will coughed, the blood in his mouth choking him. He hated the way his body fought to live. "Get up on your knees and beg for forgiveness." Will didn't move. His body refused to respond. "And once you are forgiven, you will crawl on your hands and knees to Germany and fix this."
Will opened his eyes and glanced up at his father. He was a blur as was the rest of the room, but there was a good portion of people who had stopped and were watching, horrified. Will wished to tell them that this was normal. That he had been through worse. That they had no reason to watch the spectacle. That he wasn't a prince, so it didn't matter if he was touched or destroyed.
"Now boy!"
Will's curls were harshly pulled again. He was manipulated onto his knees by more hands than just his father's. The guard doing his father's bidding like any good guard would. His shoulders were held up to support his body and his head was tugged backwards so he could look into his father's face.
"Beg."
Will released a gasping laugh, unsure where the sound sprang from. He shook his head.
"No." The word scratched at his throat.
Another fist crashed into his face and his body slumped over, harshly pulled back upright by the guards that held him. His chin was snatched up viciously and Will winced as his father spit at him.
"Beg," Sanford hissed. "And fix your mistakes and I will show you grace."
"No." The word sent blood splattering across Sanford's face, but he did not flinch.
"You are not fit to wear this crown."
"I don't want to wear your broken crown." Will grinned, curious how red his teeth were. His father's eyes ignited, and Will's chin was released.
"Hold him," Sanford instructed his men and Will's arms were clenched tightly in brutal grasps. "I hope that this is the last time I have to teach you this lesson, son." Will's eyes flickered over his father's face; jaw clenched.
"There is nothing worse you can do to me."
"This time my action better sink in, William. There is no hope for you if they do not."
Will opened his mouth to argue, but his voice caught in the back of his throat when his father pulled a knife from his belt. The sharp blade caught the light from the hundreds of candles and Will watched, waiting for what part of him it was going to come for.
Will could only blink as his wrist was grabbed and the blade effortlessly slipped between his skin and the red ribbon. The ribbon was cut free, and Will's entire person went glacial. He shook his head, pulling at the hands that held him as his father stepped away from him, ribbon held up to examine between forefinger and thumb.
"No," he muttered, shaking his head. "No. Please."
"Now you'll beg?" Sanford taunted. "This dilapidated little thing means that much to you?"
"Give it back." Will's head dropped forward, and he held back a scream. "Please. Please give it back."
"That is not the lesson."
Will looked back up to watch as his father strode towards one of the many candle holders in the room. Will's heart jumped up in his throat and something surged through his body. A strength he didn't know he had.
"No!" he begged, pulling to his feet. His arms ached as he was dragged away from the king by the guards. "Don't!" He couldn't breathe. "Please!" The fabric was held aloft, the flame dancing maliciously for it. Will was going to be sick. "Please!" He threw all his weight against the men holding him to gain a few steps, only to be ripped backwards. "You can't!"
"I can," Sanford said strongly, an amused look playing on his features as he watched his son struggle.
"Father, please!" Will couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks. They burned with the saltiness of the sea. "Please do not burn it. Please. I implore you."
"You've had this since you were a child. Holding onto childish things will only restrain you from being a proper king."
Will shook his head desperately. Every inch of him trembled. "Please." Will's heart shot into his throat as the ribbon was lowered closer to the flame and the yellow rose to meet the fabric. "Please!" This was worse than any torture. Worse than any illness or loss. Worse than any punch or kick. "I'll do anything, just please give it back."
"It is far too late for your fidelity now." The ribbon was lowered again, and the words burst from Will, as loud as a crack of thunder.
"It's the only thing I have of Hannibal! Please!" The pause in Sanford's movements caused hope to bubble up in Will's chest. "Please!"
"All the more reason to see it burn."
The single flame was starved. It ate the silk as if it were a craving, the absolute most delicious thing in the world. It even tried to lick the King's fingers.
A scream echoed around the hall. A little girl screamed. It was blood curdling and only Will could hear it.
"No!"
Will's complete being snapped. It broke. Split. Fractured. Splintered.
His body was not his own. It crumpled to the floor, finally released from the men holding him. Will couldn't pull his eyes from the candle that mocked him with happy swaying. It had snuffed out more than one life that night and Will cursed that it hadn't been his.