The blood of nightmares did not often cling to Will's sleep as often as the years slipped by. The kingdom had soon forgotten all the darkness that had come with the unanswered questions and Will also found himself thinking about it less and less, but for some reason, Mischa was ever persistent that night.

Will rose from his bed, pulling Mischa's ribbon from his bedside table and let the cool silk slip through his fingers as he patiently waited for his breath to return to a normal pace. When he looked to the foot of his bed, he found Mischa there, patiently standing with the same empty blueness in her eyes that was always there.

"Alright," Will agreed with a whisper and a nod. He rose from his bed, finding his robe and slipping into it. "I can hear you. There's no need to shout."

Will didn't know how Mischa smiled, but his imagination produced the loveliest it could. Pale pink tipping upwards as she was acknowledged, unforgotten even as her memory faded from the other's in the castle. But never from Will's.

Will left his chambers, fingers still twisting the ribbon between them in a soothing fashion, as he walked down the same stone walls from his childhood and towards the library. He pushed open the door when he reached it and sighed as the scent of grassy notes with a tang of acids and a hint of floral over an underlying mustiness rushed towards him.

The room was welcoming and he found that he was the only one, aside from Bella, who still visited this room. He clearly remembered the last time he had seen his mother leave this room, weak and sick. She had gone to fetch another book, but the action had proved too much and Will had seen her collapse on the way back to her room.

She didn't last much longer after that. Her life seemed to have been bound to the book she had taken to read. The night she turned the last page, her own story had come to an end and Will thought that maybe he finally understood the pain that came with losing someone one loved.

The night of the funeral, Will was back on that balcony, his own scream shattering the spring night air as courtiers danced in the ballroom somewhere below. It wasn't until that moment that Will realized he had loved his mother all along, absent as she was. But with how much he had taken on now that she was gone, he realized how much of her time was spent as a servant to the crown and how little of her own person she had been allowed to be.

He knew the exact placement of the book by heart. He had pulled it from the same shelf for the last five years, finally able to understand the language inside of it. He didn't need Mischa to be waiting at the bookshelf for him to find the well loved leather book.

He pulled it free and left the library, finding his way to the chapel. He had found peace in the walls there as they were often left empty unless a service was being performed. Will took in the darkness of the room, the only light from the moon as it poured through the stained glass.

Will took his normal seat beside a tomb that was a little smaller than the rest of them, and opened the book. The pages shone with age in the purples and reds from the windows. Will cleared his throat and began to read as he so often did for Mischa when she decided to grace his dreams.

The Latin no longer caused him to trip over his words and the poured fluently from his lips, though Will didn't think he needed the book any longer to quote from it. He had read it more than a dozen times. He had fallen asleep with it pressed to his cheek and he was certain that the information from the text had soaked into his skin straight from the pages.

"Will I always find you here?"

The voice caused Will to jump and snap back to the present. He blinked, eyes burning from the lack of sleep and from having read for so long in the dark that now sunlight was guiding his studies. Will stretched, body stiff from sitting on the stone floor for many hours and he yawned.

"When the nightmares are too strong," Will replied. He closed the book and pushed himself to his feet, finding the chapel empty of the little girl as she must have been satisfied enough with his reading to return to her eternal rest. "Good morning Beverly. You are looking rather lovely-"

"Oh, stuff it," she huffed with a smile, hands on her hips. The dress she wore today was a touch more upscale than the ones she normally wore and Will frowned as he took in the deep red velvet of it.

"What am I not remembering?" he asked, meeting her gaze. She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "What?"

"We are receiving regiments from your father's army that has been fighting in Spain for the last several months. They won this last battle. It could be a turning point in this-"

"There is no turning point in this war. The moment a treaty is signed with Spain, the next war will start again." Will rubbed at his tired eyes and nodded. "And I suppose that I am going to be the one who is front and center when they arrive?"

Beverly nodded, hands clasping in front of her. "According to Alana, your father had quite a night. He is currently in bed and will possibly be there the rest of the morning."

"That doesn't sound out of character."

Will licked his lips and looked around the chapel, wondering how much control his mother had held over his father. Will had thought the drinking was bad when he was a child, but after his mother passed, it was as if the flood gates had opened. There was no Theophania to hold back the insanity of Sanford and Will was simply biding his time for when he was appointed to take over. Whether that was a decision voted on by the court or his father succumbing to his alcoholism, only time would tell.

"You'll be by my side today, won't you?"

"Am I ever anywhere else?" Beverly challenged with a grin and Will returned it.

"No." Will moved over to her and leaned forward, kissing her cheek. "And I thank you for being willing to support me through my days."

Beverly shook her head with pursed lips. "I am simply doing the job that was appointed to me by Queen Theophania."

"Be that as it may," Will took her hands in his, "you are my dearest and closest friend and I could not do this without you."

"James and Brian would be more than capable of helping you."

Will snorted out his laughter at the jest and shook his head. "They would burn this kingdom to the ground the moment they touched it."

"That they would," Beverly agreed, pulling her hands free from Will's. "Now, let us greet the day. Alana is already in one of her moods because you ran off and there is much to do today and you aren't even dressed yet."

"Would you mind returning this to the library for me?" Will held out the book to Beverly, who took it as he passed.

"Is Utopia the only book you've ever read?"

"No," Will answered as he went for the chapel doors. "But it is one of my favorites."

"There you are!" Alana exclaimed when he entered his room, motioning Will closer. "Today of all days is not one we should be dawdling on."

"I am more than capable of dressing myself, Alana. I am eighteen and I've been watching you do it for all of those years. There's not need for you to-"

"Your age does not matter. We both know that if you were to dress yourself you would look like a stable hand and not a prince." Alana fetched the first piece of a deep blue suit from the freshly made bed and brought it over to Will who was pulling his robe from his body.

"I enjoy looking like a stable hand," Will argued, enjoying the way that Alana did not rise to the bait as so many others did.

"Yes, but then where would this country be left? A stable hand cannot lead. It is best we do not mix the two."

"What is on the list of things to do today?" Will asked as he pulled his nightshirt over his head. He tossed it aside and stopped, looking in the mirror. His hand raised to his face where a scar sat, long dulled by time, but still prominent enough that it would bring pause to Will. The slash of those rings against his cheek had been something that Will had not forgotten and he sighed as he pushed the memory away and out of sight.

"The welcoming of the regiment. And we must coordinate the feast being held in their honor tonight. You will be expected to give a speech if the king is unwell."

"Is that all?" Will grumbled, letting himself be dressed by Alana in a new white shirt that would go under the blue suit.

"If the king is unwell, you will also be expected to be in attendance the entire evening. No more of your sneaking away like the little boy who would slip out of the castle in the middle of the night. With your position comes certain obligations."

"And attending a party that I do not even want to be at is one of the many."

"And you handle each one flawlessly."

Will scoffed. "Do not flatter me the way you do my father, Alana. Please. I would rather rot."

"Don't be so melodramatic," she scolded, finding the next item of clothing to dress Will in. "I do not give out compliments lightly."

"Remind me what is so special about this particular regiment. They're just more of my father's armies. Why does this one in particular deserve such a grand entrance?" Will stepped closer to the mirror to straighten his collar so it wasn't quite so tight around his throat.

"First and foremost, they will soon become your men and your armies. It would be wise for you to be in good standing with them. More countries have fallen to an unhappy military than you would care to believe. And with the-"

"I swear, if I have to hear one more thing said about the Vergers, I will hang myself," Will warned.

The threat of war with their two kingdoms loomed closer and closer by the day and Will did his best to not think about the bridge between the two that had been lost five years previous and had not yet been mended again. It was tiring to clean up his father's messes, but he supposed that was what princes had been doing for their fathers for centuries before and he was sure that his own children would find themselves in the same positions, even if Will spent every waking moment working his hardest to make it otherwise.

"This is not a joking matter, William."

"I never said that it was." Will brushed Alana away as she attempted to tame his messy curls as she did every morning. And every morning Will would give the same excuse to not let her touch them. "They remind me of my mother. I want to leave them like this today."

And Alana would come back with the same remark. "Even your mother let her maid do her hair." Will smiled at himself in the mirror, turning side to side as he inspected the reflection. "And take that tattered thing off." Alana reached out and snatched up Will's wrist that had the red ribbon tied around it. He hadn't noticed that he had tied it to his wrist as he was reading, but the silk was always a welcome comfort. She unknotted the ribbon and Will snatched it back from her swiftly. "I do not understand why you keep that old fabric."

"It's important to me. I promised to look after it."

"It is not seemly for-"

"A prince to be seen with ribbons on his person," Will quoted with a groan. "I know. You tell me often enough."

"And I shouldn't have to."

Alana held out Will's belt to him and then his sword. It was meant more for decoration than actual use, but Will donned it all the same. It was the same guise as the crown. An outward ornament that gave the illusion of importance, of power, of royalty. The sword was a symbol of Will's military training. He had never been to war, but he had been put through the same training that James and Brian had to become knights for his father, and Will thought of himself as a decent swordsman.

"Will, this regiment is important because they have won us our war with Spain. As of yesterday, there is a treaty being drawn up to be signed by your father. The men who come to us now are the ones who lived after years of battle. They are heroes to our country and they need to be treated as such."

"War should not be rewarded," Will spat. "It is a gross pass time for the weak and small minded. It does nothing but prolong the inevitable ending that is the same outcome of any war."

"And what is that?"

"That two people needed to sit down and talk."


"Jimmy, Brian," Will called as he entered the dining hall to eat his breakfast. The two men who wore his coat of arms were immediately beside him, ready for whatever orders Will had to give them. "You've seen that the barracks are in order, ready for when the men arrive?"

"Yes, Your Highness," James answered with a nod.

"We finished preparations last night," Brian continued. Will had found that the two of them had a knack for either finishing each other's sentences, and if not that, then thoughts. They were like one person that had been split into two. "Everything should be in order."

"Thank you. And please, drop the formalities. I'm still just Will."

"Not today, Your Highness," James pressed and Will frowned.

"We can't risk the slip ups." Brian gave an apologetic smile. "Tomorrow will be different."

"You're both dismissed." Will waved them away, unable to hide the slight annoyance for the situation in his tone. If that was the type of day it was going to be, then Will needed to prepare a bit more than he thought he did. The presidents and traditions were tiresome on a normal day and Will knew that by the time the evening arrived, he would be downright exhausted. "Beverly?"

"Yes?" She left where she stood beside his chair that he had yet to take and came to stand beside him.

Will lowered his voice so only she could hear. "In my bedside table drawer is a red ribbon. Will you fetch it for me?"

"That kind of a day already?" Beverly winced at the mention of the coping mechanism.

"Please do not let Alana find you with it."

Beverly nodded and left the room to do as she was asked and Will took his seat at the dining table, finding only his setting out. His father must have truly had a hard night if he wasn't going to show for breakfast. But he was never more than a centerpiece anyways, so there wasn't too much missing and Will found the quiet of the morning rather needed.

When Beverly returned, she slipped the ribbon into Will's hand and Will tied the red to the grip of his sword. If he could feel the fabric against his hand when he rested it there, then he was sure he could make it through today without looking the fool.

Will caught Beverly's hand as she attempted to leave his side and she stopped, looking carefully over her friend. "I should check on the king," she tried to excuse and in that moment Will realized that Beverly had taken over just as much of the queen's duties as Will had when his mother had passed.

"Frederica will attend my father," Will informed, hoping that it would relieve some of the stress of the day off her. "You are going to sit beside me and have breakfast just as we used to."

Beverly tried to give Will a kind smile and shook her head. "That is highly inapp-"

"Rules can be damned for a little longer this morning." Will motioned to his mother's chair beside him that one of the servants was quick to move to and pull out for Beverly. "Sit with me, please?" Beverly sighed in reluctance and Will's spirits dipped, the immediate feeling of being a chore crashing down around him. Maybe he had asked too much of her. Maybe this was more a burden than a relief. "You do not have to, if you do not wish to."

"We are not children any longer, William," Beverly muttered. "I will be by your side as I always am, but I do have other duties to attend to before the day begins. And if I am not the one to fetch your father you will be the one having to give the welcoming speech when the men arrive." Will felt his face twist into one of dislike and he received a laugh from Beverly. "Let me rescue you from the unpleasantries, Your Highness. I will return shortly."

Will's hand was given a squeeze and he released his grip on her, allowing her to go free and leave him to his breakfast. Will closed his eyes with a deep breath, resting his head in his hand as his elbow propped him up on the table. He stared at the fruit on his plate, suddenly no longer hungry.

"Brian, Jimmy?" he called, looking over his shoulder to where his friends stood. "Would you be up for a ride a bit later today? Maybe we could stop by the pond."

"It's a possibility," Brian answered with an agreeing nod from James.

"Good." Will pushed his plate away and rose to his feet before anyone had the chance to pull out his chair for him. "Today is going to be a long day without it."


The crown sat heavy upon Will's head and he felt like he was going to break under the weight of it. In the most literal sense of the phrase that was possible. He adjusted the uncomfortable metal atop his head, only to be given a sideways look from Beverly.

"Stop that," she hissed under her breath.

"I don't like it," Will muttered, dropping his hands back to his sides and leaving the crown more out of place than it had been to begin with.

"You need to look presentable."

"I do."

"No one will know who you are without it."

"They don't need to know."

"Welcome!" King Sanford's voice boomed from the balcony they all stood on, overlooking their courtyard that was filled with metal clad, tired looking men both young and old. They stood tall and at attention, but Will was certain they were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to retire to the barracks than listen to a speech about how successful they had been in the weeks prior.

Will didn't pay much mind to the speech given by his father's words that were slow and carefully said, giving Will the impression that his father was still drunk rather than sick from the after effects. But Beverly had gotten the man out of bed, so Will couldn't find himself in a position to complain. His hand rested on his sword and the silk set his racing mind at ease.

"If there is anything you want for, my staff is at your disposal," the king finally finished and Will watched as the men filtered out of the courtyard and towards the barracks. When they had finally left, Will ripped the crown from his head and shook out his curls. His shoulder was taken and Will looked up to find his father's steel cold glare. "I expect you to see to their comfort."

"I'm not your staff," Will shot back, the scar on his cheek seeming to spark to life with phantom pain. "Have Jack go to them."

"You are the face of this kingdom and you will show them that we care about what they have done for us and that we are one with the people, not above them," Sanford pressed.

"If we are one with the people then why have we not helped with cleaning their water supply that is still-"

"William."

"And I have yet to hear any news about the university being built that you agreed to."

"Get your head out of the heavens, William." He was given a harsh shake from the grip on his arm, but he found he had become more used to his father's abuse as time went on and the more he fought back against the man. It did not rattle him as much as it once had. "You will play your part as is your duty or so help me I will-"

"You'll what?" Will challenged, his voice low as he shoved the crown in his hand against his father's chest and created enough distance between them to pull free from his brutal grasp. "Which shall it be, Father? Hot oil or the rack?"

"Your Highness," Beverly warned in a hushed tone behind him, a hand resting hesitantly on his back and grounding him into the present. "We still have much to do today. It's best that we get to it."

Will bit back the sourness in his mouth and let out a deep breath, pushing his curls from his face. He looked over his father carefully, a shell of the man Will knew from his childhood. No longer a king, just a drunken fool in a tavern that everyone felt far too sorry for to throw out on the street. It made Will hot with anger.

"Very well," he growled through his teeth, doing his best to keep his calm for Beverly's shake. What was another faceful or rings after all? Or the switch he was forced to cut from the tree in the courtyard to be whipped with? Those scars still lined his back. He didn't care about what his father did to him. He would be dead soon enough and then this world would be Will's to run as he saw fit. He just had to bide his time until then. "Let us go and make sure that the men are comfortable with their lodging."

Will tore his eyes from the king and turned away from the man, following after Beverly who led the way back into the castle. Will pulled at the constricting fabric around his person, ripping pieces of his suit from his body and leaving them littered on the floor. Normally he would have done no such thing, feeling it upright for the staff to pick up after him, but not even Beverly scolded him for the action so maybe his anger was far more present than he thought.

He inhaled deeply, his complaints dying in his chest, hot and heavy like lead. He shook out his hands and pulled at the collar around his throat until he looked just as Alana had warned him not to, like a stable hand. The only hint of his suit being left were his trousers.

Will did his best to ignore the way that James and Brian followed behind him as well. They were only going to join the others where they would all be residing, but Will found the extra footsteps behind him a touch overbearing.

When he reached the barracks, he found the men getting comfortable in their rooms. Armor was being removed and some of it cleaned by those who had enough strength to do so. Others were already asleep in their bunks and more were enjoying the pond nearby. Will went to work, playing chamberlain and making sure that water or ale was given to those who asked for it.

Brian and James had found other soldiers to speak to and looked happily in their place among old friends that had once been stationed here before being shipped out to war. Will had been able to spare his friends the front lines of battle, or any sort of fighting for that matter, claiming them as his personal guard much the same way that Jack was to King Sanford.

Beverly was happily speaking with others as well and Will finally found a moment to slip away, unnoticed by anyone. The chatter from the barracks faded and Will walked the path towards the stables. Maybe he had enough time to go on a ride before he was needed back at the castle.

He had made it partly there when the sound of hooves caught his attention and he looked back the way he had come to find a beautiful charger, strong and powerful. Its coat was a stunning shining black that caught the afternoon sun. The rider was blinding as his armor caught the sun as well, but soon he stopped beside Will, pulling his helmet from his head.

Will found long hair that needed a wash and a thick beard on an angular face. Skin was tanned from being out in the sun or perhaps was just dirty from the ride. Amber eyes looked down at him.

"I'm looking for the barracks," the man stated with a deep breath, accent thick. "Do you happen to know where they are?"

Will blinked at the informality and found it, albeit odd, slightly refreshing from the morning of Your Highnesses and Prince Williams. He pointed behind the man. "It's back that way a little. I'm afraid you have passed it." The man's head turned to follow Will's motion and he nodded, licking his lips. "It's not too terribly far. There's a fork in the path that goes right."

"Wonderful." Will found himself jumping out of the way as the man dismounted the horse, chainmail clattering in the movements. The horse huffed out a whinny and Will wondered if it was from the relief of all the weight that came with the metal clad man being removed from its back. The man thrust the reins into Will's hands and Will found his mouth falling open at the gesture. "Guillaume enjoys pears if you have any."

The man turned away from Will and Will stared after him, dumbfounded. He wasn't sure which part stunned him more. The fact that the horse's name was the equivalent of his or that Alana had been right about him looking like a stable boy when he wasn't dressed as a prince and he suddenly wanted his suit and crown back.

"Excuse me," Will called back, following after the stranger and pulling Guillaume along. The man didn't stop, simply glanced over his shoulder. "Where do you think you're going?"

He stopped, his brows furrowed in confusion. "To join my men." The words were said slowly as if Will were too stupid to grasp them and Will frowned.

"Are you not going to take care of your horse first?"

"That is your job, is it not?"

Will bristled and silently cursed that Alana was right. He would never live this down if she ever caught wind of it. He marched up to the man, holding out the reins to him. "No," he replied curtly. "It is not my job." When the man didn't take the reins, Will shoved them into the man's hand, the skin there rough.

The laugh that came from the stranger was loud. "Do not play games with me," he instructed. "I have never had an issue with King Sanford's staff before and I won't have it start now."

Will's jaw tightened at the mention of his father as if the peculiar man and the king were the best of friends. As if they knew each other personally. Will had never seen this man a day in his life and he was certain his father never had either. The boast was enough to narrow Will's gaze as he looked over the man. He looked the same as the others. Worn out and tired from the war and the ride here, ready for a bath and ale.

Maybe they knew each other in correspondence that were sent back and forth, but Will doubted that were even the case. This man didn't look like a commander of any sort of power. Not the head of this army or a nobel of any means. He was a knight through and through and nothing more. He was below Will and he needed to learn his place, learn to respect those above him in title and power.

"I am not King Sanford's staff," Will snapped back, turning away from the man and starting once more on his walk, deciding quite swiftly that he was going to avoid the stables all together if this bastard was going to be heading there.

"I can pay you."

"I do not want your money."

"I have never been treated with such a discourteous lack of manners. You will return at once and do your job."

Will froze at the demand and turned back to face the ragged man. "Learn your place, Sir," he spat. "I do not bow for you, nor any man and you are ever so fortunate that I have not forced you to your knees to show me the respect that is my God given right."

Amber eyes grew dark and Will allowed them to roam his person slowly. The sword at Will's side must have been enough of an indicator of his status or had provided enough interest that the man's gaze lingered on it for a long while. Long enough that Will's self consciousness grew and he rested his hand on it, the silk of the ribbon comforting against his palm.

The words said next were soft, but Will heard them just as well. "How can anyone be silly enough to think himself better than other people, because his clothes are made of finer woolen thread than theirs. After all, those fine clothes were once worn by a sheep, and they never turned it into anything better than a sheep."

He was at least well read. Will couldn't deny the man that. And if the words were anything to go by, the stranger knew who Will was. Knew his station and his title. But none of it did anything to stop the jab that burst from him.

"And there is nothing more inglorious than that glory that is gained by war."

The dark look from the man turned to one of surprise at the book being quoted back to him as if he hadn't expected Will to have read it. But it was the one that he read to put Mischa back to sleep. It was the one that was the most worn and most loved out of the library. He could quote it from cover to cover if someone asked him. He could recite it like scripture and far more faithfully.

"Your Highness." There was a deep bow, as deep as the chainmail and armor would allow. "Forgive my ignorance. It was not my intention."

Will nodded, not forgiving the trespass, but finding that he would much rather be on his walk than dealing with someone as rude as this man. "The stable is at the end of this road. I'm sure someone there would be more inclined to help you."

"Thank you."

Will turned away and started towards the large trees in the distance that would provide some shade and somewhere for him to sit and think away from everyone else.

"Will I get to see you tonight?"

The words almost made Will trip over himself. He gripped his sword tightly as if that would give him balance and he closed his eyes, praying for the patience that was not his strong suit. "I will be attending the feast," he replied briskly, beginning his walk again. No answer followed him and he was relieved to finally be away from the situation.