#celeine

Her head is pillowed by scrolls, the soft buzz of her snore echoing in the vast expanse of the library. This is not an atypical event for the Prince’s aide, who so rarely sleeps in her own bed without a handful of scrolls or tomes to keep her company. Tonight however, had been one where she had fully intended upon enjoying the luxuries of her own plush kingdom, the blankets and pillows having been freshly laundered - and probably delightfully soft. Her lamp has long since gone out, the moon casting a bright glow in the library’s depths and lighting her dark hair as it shines a soft, lovely blue.

Soft voices can be heard from outside the door. Both are male, and one sounds faintly entertained.

“Prince Luther, I appreciate you telling me that I could have moved her on my own,” he’s a young boy, who sounds more than a little bit amused, “but I’m fully convinced that she will headbutt me on principle for picking her up. She’s your aide, not mine, and I may be the GUARDIAN, but I am in no way brave enough to wake her.” A huff, and the door cracks open, a head of frost-colored hair poking in. The evening is late, and the prince is not dressed for the impressive court showing he had made earlier in the day as a sign of his recovery from the madness of Ephemera, but a more casual tunic and breeches fit for evening loungewear. A robe is tossed over his head and the prince splutters. “Here. You might want to wrap her in that if you’re going to carry her,” the boy known only as GUARDIAN teases, before dashing off, soft footfalls disappearing into the night.

It takes the prince several minutes to escape the tangled robe, and he looks both distinctly disheveled and annoyed once free from the soft cloth prison. A huff leaves the prince, and he eyes the mess before him, a rueful smile quirking his lips up as he sees it, absentmindedly shaking the robe out and folding it over an arm.

“If I’ve told you once,” he sighs, all pretense gone as he allows his fondness for the sleeping aide to surface. “I’ve told you a million times - how many times will you toss your research willy-nilly on to every chair my dear?” he asks the sleeping figure rhetorically, the garment folded over an arm as he picks his way through the mess. for now, he drapes the robe over her still, comfortably sleeping figure, and rolls up the sleeves of his tunic to put away her scrolls and books for later.

It doesn’t take him long - he’s well trained to her eccentric habits of what chair holds what research material, chuckling under his breath as he notes the scroll of historical art sitting between the history and art chairs. It only takes him ten minutes, which is enough room to carry his aide to bed and tuck her in. Luther dithers briefly, before gently nudging her into sleeping against the chair, properly folding the robe about her so she wouldn’t become chilly on the trek to her rooms. Heating is only reserved for the main rooms after the guests have left, and Luther knows her rooms will be plenty warm. It doesn’t stop him from cradling her closer, the pretext of keeping her warmth contained enough for him to ward off castle gossip should he require to defend her honor.

Her door is propped open - courtesy of the GUARDIAN, he chuckles slightly, seeing the soft purple glow of a spying fairy and her companion. They thought themselves subtle. Looking down at Alasondria’s sleeping face, however, he could admit that their mostly innocent scheming bore a delightful and entertaining fruit in the form of deepening the already close bond he had with his most deeply favored aide. He lays her down on the bedspread, and a smile crosses his face.

No... he didn’t need a scheming GUARDIAN and fairy to give him excuses to care for Alasondria. But he would take whatever he could get.

Yaasss!!!

Yes i know it’s been a while but i realized something about the final episode.

So by now everyone is familiar with the fact Will watched our body for about 10 hours and then we moved etc. etc. right?

well when we get up and see him, he’s missing his coat. he’s wearing everything else but his coat and his hat. The lack of his coat showed us his suspenders, the final clue to his true identity as Wilford (Which let’s be honest, we all knew it was him)

I just have this idea that after confirming we’re dead he took his coat off and covered our face so he didn’t have too look at it.

I know that it’s probably not the case as we just get up without any issues, but can you imagine the pain if he did?

That would mean he had to walk down the stairs (if the house even let him do that) look for a pulse, confirm the death, and make the conscious decision to cover our body, most likely out of guilt.

Know what else i thought of?

He had Damien’s walking stick at the end when we woke up.

How much do you want to bet he covered our body with his coat, set his hat aside, and went around the house once more to look for Damien and Celine.

that means something of Damien’s was left behind by Mark.

There was one final thing that Mark forgot about that Will found and clung to like an abandoned child in MOURNING.

....