The Sculpture And The Sculpted

Chapter 41

When the canvas was hidden beneath Hannibal's bed beside his father's sword, Hannibal returned to his feet. He once more found himself traversing the castle at night after the personnel had all retired to their quarters.

When Hannibal turned the corner for Will's room, he was surprised to find the hallway empty. No Jack, no Brian or James. Which meant that Will was not in bed yet. Hannibal's brows knitted together as he thought over all of the places Will could have been. He rubbed at the back of his neck and sighed.

As far as he was aware, there weren't many places in the palace that Will felt comfortable in. The dining hall was one, but he doubted Will would be there. He couldn't recall having seen any light from that direction. There were the gardens, but Hannibal hadn't seen anyone out there either. He hadn't been in the stables, so that really only left two options for him to check. Either the chapel, as according to Will, that was where he would read to Mischa when she asked him to. Or there was the library.

Hannibal hedged his bets and started in the direction of the library merely based on the idea that he, personally, would prefer a safe chair and a warm fire rather than cold stones and corpses.

When Hannibal found the library, he was greeted with Jack standing watch at the door. He supposed Brian and James had been given another night off, which they deserved. Jack nodded to Hannibal in acknowledgment and Hannibal returned the motion.

"How is he?" Hannibal questioned, feeling as if he had to keep his voice low to now let it bounce down the halls and wake others up.

"Overwhelmed," Jack answered gruffly. "Listening to the greedy courtiers complain about not having enough resources instead of bringing up genuine issues that need solving is not the easiest thing to sit through, and I'm not the one who has to make the decisions."

"Perhaps I can help shoulder the burden in the future," Hannibal offered, mind already turning with ways to navigate the situation for when the next time inevitably came around. "Would you know if there is anyone still awake who could draw me a bath?"

Jack's brows rose and he let out a deep breath through his nose. He mused, tipping his head back and forth before finally answering. "Freddie is often in charge of handling the fires during the winter. It is possible she is awake."

"Would you mind asking her to do that for me? I'm not sure where exactly her room would be. And I will somehow get HIs Majesty to bed in the meantime."

Jack looked hesitant for a moment before nodding, seemingly having decided that Hannibal would be able to handle the situation if anything unsavory were to come up. He excused himself and left down the hall and Hannibal slipped into the library.

Floor to ceiling shelves spanned the room and in the distance Hannibal could make out the unmistakable sound of Will's snores. His lips tipped up as he meandered through the shelving until he found Will curled up in a large chair. His knees were sung over one arm, while his back rested against the other. A book sat open in his lap, one hand holding the pages open, the other had its elbow on Will's thigh, hand supporting his cheek.

Hannibal carefully removed the book from Will's hand, not missing the way the pages were well worn from use. He closed the book and his fingers traced the familiar title. He nearly laughed aloud as he remembered having thrown a barbed quote from it at Will to only have it shoved back in his face. Utopia.

Hannibal set the book aside on a table and looked over Will's position. He carefully slid an arm under Will's knee and then the other behind Will's back and he lifted Will into his arms. Will jumped, startled, and his arms immediately wrapped around Hannibal's neck as if he were afraid he was going to fall.