Will had been too ill the next morning to find the strength to bid Margot farewell, but he found the idea of the kingdom being free of Mason's grip to be rather relaxing. His bed felt softer than it had for many days, and he happily slipped in and out of sleep, enjoying the warmth of the sun as it poured through the window.
He got up once or twice for a small walk around the castle or to write a letter back to Hannibal. He wasn't sure when the message would reach the man, but Beverly had promised that she would send it right away. He knew that the apologies in ink would not hold the same weight as they would in person, but he was sure that when Hannibal returned, he could express his regret in other means.
Will lazily watched as the beams of light, like liquid honey, danced and swirled as they entered the room, leaving a trail of ephemeral sparks in their wake. A faint whisper of a breeze accompanied the sunlight and tossed the curtains about softly.
His mind was wandering over everything and nothing at all. He could feel sleep pull at him once more and just as he was about to let it take him under once more, a hand took his shoulder. He forced his eyes open and turned over to look at Beverly. She took the chair beside his bed with a deep breath but said nothing, so unlike her.
Will frowned and resettled himself to better see his friend and reached out a hand to hold hers. She grabbed him tightly, but her focus stayed out of the windows and her voice was completely non-existent. Will gave her another few moments of silence before he thought he would go mad.
"You miss her, don't you?" he asked, breaking the quiet up. Beverly's eyes flickered down to him before returning out the window. "It's ok if you do. I miss Hannibal."
Beverly let out a very low breath and sniffed. Will could only stare in surprise as tears welled up in her eyes and one slipped down her cheek. Will couldn't recall having seen Beverly cry before and he was stunned, unsure of what to do to help her.
He pushed himself up in his bed, positioning the pillows against the headboard and scooting over to create more room. He waited patiently for Beverly to look at him again and he held his arms open for her.
She rolled her wet eyes and wiped the tears from her cheeks before shifting herself onto the bed beside Will. She rested up against his chest and Will wrapped his arms around her. He could still hear her stifled sniffles and he pressed a kiss to her head.
"You can cry," he muttered, hand rubbing up and down her arm as soothingly as he could. "I can feel it in you. The need to scream. Perched right under your chin."
As if the permission had opened the floodgates, Will felt Beverly's grip on him tighten to the point where it was painful. The sob that came from her was unlike anything Will had heard from her before and he pulled her closer. Her hot tears wet his shirt as she sobbed against him.
"Scream if you so wish."
"I hate it here," she blurted out. Will blinked, shocked at the words. "I want to go home."
Will wasn't sure what to make of the outburst. Beverly had come to live at the palace to help care for a worsening Theophania after Beverly's mother had passed away. Beverly's mother had been Theophania's maid before and Theophania was quite comfortable around Beverly, so it felt the perfect route to take.
As Will and Beverly grew closer over his mother's worsening illness, Will never heard a single complaint from the woman. Beverly did her duties day in and day out, waiting for the queen on hand and foot.
Will also knew that on her deathbed Theophania had made Beverly promise to stay and help watch after Will, which Will would be forever grateful for. But he had never once considered the idea that Beverly would be missing home. It was never mentioned, never spoken of.
As time went by, Will had nearly forgotten a time when Beverly had not been present. There was not a memory where she had not seemed to always be planted there, even if she had been nowhere near the memory in the first place. She had always belonged to the castle, and no one was meant to think otherwise.
"Anything else?"
"I miss Margot."
"You are not bound to me," Will answered softly, fingers playing with her hair. "You are free to do as you please. If you wish to return home, you can."
"And leave you to fuck up the kingdom?" Beverly's words were muffled against his chest. "Your mother would come back from the grave to end me."
"Why have you not mentioned this before? It has been years, Beverly."
"Where would my complaints fit into this place?"
Will's heart broke and he found Beverly's chin, tipping the tear stained face up to look at him. Her wet lashes stuck together as she blinked up at him. He gave her the smallest of smiles.
"You can always entrust them to me." He rested his head against hers. "You must be absolutely mental if you thought I would not listen to your problems as you do to mine."
"But I-"
"If you wish to go home and see your family, all you have to do is ask. If you wish to leave and travel to Germany and become one of Margot's ladies in waiting, all you have to do is ask." Will chuckled softly. "Why would I want to keep you from your happiness if it does not lie here?"
"You mean it?"
Will nodded. "I do. Just promise you will write to me if you are planning to stay for extended periods of time. I will miss you so."
"My father wrote to me, saying that my mother is not doing well." Beverly pushed herself up, wiping her eyes and cheeks. Will frowned, reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind her ear, concern flooding through him. "I would like to see her before she..." Beverly's voice choked, and she gave a shrug to convey the rest of her sentence.
"Of course." Will nodded. "I would not wish it any other way. You must leave immediately."
"What about you?"
"What about me?" Will laughed airily again, clearing his throat before it could become a cough. "This has nothing to do with me. I thank you for your constant fretting over me, but I am more than capable of spending a few days without you." His hand brushed over her cheek softly. "Just promise to write."
"You could come with me?" Beverly offered hopefully. "Maybe the seaside would be good for your health."
"I could help you with your mother." Beverly had been there through his mother's passing and more. It was the very least he could do. He wanted to return the favor. Take care of the woman who took care of his mother until neither could any longer. "And it would be nice to see a bit of the world. I don't get to leave here often enough."
"And your father?"
Will shook his head. "He rules without me by his side. I bet with me gone it will be a relief for him."
Beverly gave an understanding twitch of her lips. "I shall go pack and I will send Alana to gather your things. You rest and the moment you are ready to go, we can leave."
"Doctor Chilton isn't going to ruin that plan, is he? He is fond of stealing the joy out of any given situation."
"We shan't tell him."
As the sleepy day dragged on, Will found himself eagerly anticipating a picturesque carriage ride to the ocean side. He had never seen the ocean. He would have to write Hannibal about it.
He longed to know if it was true that the air would smell of salt and that the sound of waves crashing on the shore was the most soothing sound there could be.
As the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over his home, Will was finally standing before the carriage that would be taking them. The deep finish gleamed in the fading sunlight and the horse stood strong and ready for the journey. If they traveled all night then they would hopefully reach the estate by mid-morning the next day.
Though Beverly's face did not show it, Will could tell by the way she held herself that she was more than ready to see her home again. To be returned to where she grew up, to the familiarity that she knew.
Her hand took his and she smiled sweetly. "I'm happy you're coming with me."
"I'm happy to be going," Will said, watching as their things were packed and the door to the carriage was opened for them. "I'm sorry about the guards."
"It's just James and Brian. I doubt they will be any trouble. We could have had worse."
"And who would that be?"
"Jack."
Will snorted at the comment and nodded. "Indeed."
He motioned Beverly to the carriage and helped her up the steps and with her dress until he was able to get in himself. Once both settled, the carriage started off and went through the castle grounds. Ones that Will was far too acquainted with and slowly they dissolved into places he had never been.
It was as if he could finally breathe. As if he had been suffering with Winter's Fever far longer than the last week and that it had finally released him.
The road led through a dense forest, the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves overhead, creating a play of light and shadow on the carriage. Birds chirped merrily, and Will swore that the distant murmur of the waves was growing louder with each passing moment.
"You look like a child who has finally understood what a birthday is," Beverly teased him, and Will pulled his eyes from the windows, a flush coming to his cheeks.
"I am not well traveled." The admittance was not unknown, but Beverly nodded in understanding. "I should see more of the world."
"You visit it enough in those books you read."
"My mind could not possibly give justice to the realness around me."
Beverly gave a laugh. "I suppose that is a fair assumption."
"And should I not see what is mine? How am I meant to work it, to use it, if I do not know it? I can't possibly be a good king if I do not understand it." Will licked his lips, lost deep in thought. "I feel as if my father has sheltered me on purpose. He keeps me out of all councils that do not consist of party planning, just as he did my mother."
"Your time will come."
Finally, the carriage emerged from the woods, and there it was—the vast expanse of the sea stretching out before them, its deep blue waters meeting the horizon in a seamless blend of sky and sea. The sun was now a fiery orb rising from the water, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, casting a warm and ethereal light across the landscape.
Will's heart leapt in his chest. He didn't care how tired he was or if the carriage ride was highly uncomfortable. He could smell the brine in the cold morning air. The crash of the waves soothed any sort of anxiety or illness that still held tightly to him.
His orders brought the carriage to a stop at the edge of the beach, and Will ripped the shoes from his feet. He stepped out onto the soft sand, feeling the coolness beneath his feet and between his toes.
He could hear Beverly laugh behind him, but he didn't care. The rhythmic waves lapped at the shore, creating a melody that seemed to whisper tales of distant lands and endless adventures. Seagulls soared overhead, their calls echoing in the salt-scented air. He could live here. His soul burned, alight. It called to him, as if he had returned home to a place he had never been.
Will walked closer to the water's edge, feeling the gentle touch of the seafoam as it kissed his bare feet. The sensation of the sand slipping away beneath his feet as the tide receded made him feel connected to a rhythm older than time itself. It was a moment of pure serenity, a communion with the timeless beauty of the sea, made all the more special by the hand that slipped into his.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Beverly asked in a soft tone so as not to break the spell.
Will inhaled deeply with a nod. "Exceptionally."
"You can go." She nodded towards the water that was still clinging to the darkness of the night that the sun was slowly dispelling.
A smile broke over Will's face. "Only you would allow me to do such a disreputable thing."
"I won't tell a soul."
Will couldn't stop the laugh that left him. He pulled himself free from Beverly and followed the wave that returned into the sea. It rushed back against his legs, sending a chill through him. His fingers dipped into the cool water, his clothing sticking to his body as the water lapped at him.
With a deep breath he turned back to Beverly who was watching him with her skirt pulled up so that the water wouldn't touch it. With a smile, Will let himself collapse back into the water. He could hear the way Chilton would be reprimanding him for being in the water while still sick, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
"Papa," Beverly greeted, racing from the carriage and to the older man with a tired face and greying hair who stood with open arms. She was captured in a tight hug that she returned. Will did his best not to compare the way that Beverly was held. Something twisted in his chest at the realization that he had never been hugged by his father. "I have missed you."
"We have missed you as well." Beverly was released as Will stepped from the carriage and when the man's eyes fell on him there was a light of recognition. He quickly bowed in a way that his body very clearly could no longer bend in and Will hurried over and took the man's shoulders to help him stand upright. "Your Highness. I did not realize that you were to be joining us or I would have-"
"Please," Will interrupted, looking over the frail figure. "There's no need for formalities with me. You don't need to bow or stand every time I enter the room. And you can call me Will. Just Will."
"Your Highn-"
"Just Will." His insistence earned him a nod. "Thank you for letting me borrow your daughter. She has been invaluable. I am sorry I have kept her away from home for so long."
"There's no need to apologize," Beverly assured, pulling her father from Will's grip and turning them towards the home that was far less an estate as it was a cottage by the sea. It was delightfully simple. "Where is Mama?"
"Her room. She barely leaves it anymore."
Will followed them into the house and the scent of freshly baked bread hit him in the face. He inhaled deeply of it, the warmth of it filling his bones in a way he hadn't felt in a very long time. It pulled long ago memories of baking pies with his mother to the front of his mind and placed a soft smile to his lips.
"Would it be ok if I saw her?" Will asked as Beverly headed towards a staircase off the side of the kitchen that spiraled up and away. "I do not want to be an inconvenience."
"Of course." Beverly pointed upwards as an invitation and Will followed her. "I'll help you with lunch in a moment, Papa."
"Do not rush yourselves," he called after them.
There was a single door at the top of the stairs and Beverly pushed it open, stepping into the room without any acknowledgement towards Will. The same refreshing coolness from the sea filled him with not needing to be the first one to have to enter a room. For all attention to be on someone else for once.
Will learned through the doorway and looked over the single bed that had been pushed up against the only window in the room. A woman with gaunt and pale features rested in the bed, having been staring out the window.
Will knew her face, but it looked different from the memories of his childhood. Her name was just as strong as her presence had been. Margaret. Life had been stripped from her eyes as had the strength from her body. She was not the woman he had grown up with and it pained him to see yet another person from his life slowly slipping away.
"Mama?" Beverly asked as she sat on the edge of the bed. Margaret slowly turned her face away from the window and Will watched as the confusion and slow realization crossed her face.
"Bevie?" Margaret's voice was barely above a whisper. "Is that you?"
"I'm home, Mama." Beverly leaned over and hugged the woman.
Will was about to leave the doorway, the feeling of intruding pulling on his limbs, but Margaret finally looked towards him. Her brows furrowed curiously, and she tipped her head to the side. She looked him up and down with a thoughtful gaze.
I recognize you from somewhere," she muttered, holding out her hand towards him. She beckoned Will closer, and he hesitantly stepped into the room and made himself within reach of the bed. "How do I know you?"
"You used to work for my family in the palace." Will gave her a smile.
"King Sanford's boy." She nodded. "I remember now. You were just a child then. You liked to cling to Tiffany." Will gave a smile. "You look so much like your mother. The same eyes, the same smile, the same curls. It's like she's right here with us."
Something cracked inside of Will. He had never been told that before. There was something in it that made his blood sing. It was a blend of bittersweet joy and a poignant sense of connection to a mother he felt he had never truly known. Will immediately wished for a mirror to study his reflection, to search for traces of her essence in his features, a connection beyond the tangible.
"I look like Theophania?" Will asked, the words sticky in his mouth.
Margaret's face turned to something like confusion, and she shook her head. "No. Not Tiffany. Eliza."
