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Tears fall from the prince's eyes. His hands are trembling as he picks up a piece of paper and lifts his feather. He draws a deep breath. "You can do this. You're a big man." His voice undeniably shakes when saying it.
And so, he puts feather to paper:
From your songbird to you
Wilbur, you left the palace long ago.
First your heart and then your soul.
Last time I'd seen you was 3 years or so, you never came back to fulfill your role.
As a brother or Crown Prince, whichever you wish, but it was none dear to you that fed you your last dish.
I met the woman you married from far away. She moved into the castle now, as a Widow left astray.
She doesn't get court life, nor does your son. Not that she needs to, she'd already won in the hearts of Techno, His Majesty and i,
And this is my final goodbye;
…
Your precious songbird is here to sing, the last song ever written to you.
I wish you were here to explain the whole thing, for I don't know which rumor is true.
You know, they talk about us two. The sons, so fond of each other that nothing could get through and no one would bother, but now I sit alone in the morning dew.
The execution of a prince is no light matter, yet no one tells of why it happened.
The Baron doesn't serve anything on a silver platter, so the hopes of that have been flattened. Techno seems so very saddened, it doesn't fit a general like him.
His work, for a week now, has been abandoned and his expressions are all somewhat too dim.
Father or Emperor depending on sight, is fatally wounded after assassination. I was there, frozen in fright, but now I await my own coronation.
You were the very foundation of what I now know of love, and I'll remember you through every relation, though this day had always been undreamed of.
Your family misses you very dearly and L'manbergs' "guards" are awaiting judgment. I assure you it'll go fairly, but the case is pretty translucent. Baron Quackity has now been stripped of his employment and I’m sorry I've ever trusted him. The funeral is after he and Techno have settled their "argument" and if the Baron hasn’t been pulled limb by limb.
I'm now the Crown Prince, I hope you're proud. Exactly what you once were. I’ll vow to take care of the poorer cities without a doubt and I promise I'll do it for her.
In heart, your little songbird I'll always be,
Sorry I won't be a pirate to rule over sea.
...
A tear hits the paper. As the ink and water combine, a stain is created on the paper. "Wilbur" is now bleeding across the ballad.
The door to his quarters creaks open. A careful hand is placed on his shoulder. The soothing tone in Techno's words doesn't fit him.
"It's time to go, Theseus." He takes a deep breath. Carefully, he folds the letter into a bird. He stares at it for a while, with nails digging into the flesh of his thighs. His throat doesn't seem to function right as he stands up and looks his brother in the eyes. "I'll be right there." The tremble of his voice seems to echo through the room. Techno squeezes his shoulder softly. They share another glance before the door is closed.
He walks towards the mirror. His tears have dried and his voice steadied. He proudly looks at his reflection. He's wearing black dress pants and has a black vest pulled over a sweater. A yellow sweater with a chocolate stain on it.
He pulls open the door and steps outside. The guards standing akin lower their heads. Techno looks at him, his eyes full of grief. He too is dressed in black with yellow accents, though a shining, green emerald earring shimmers in the sunlight. "Are you sure you want to wear that?" Theseus chuckles softly. "I look fabulous ." Techno gives him a pained smile. They send a look across the hallway, where the Emperor awaits them.
"Let's give our runaway prince the funeral he deserves, shall we?"