Work Text:
"Our next target is Lord Dendoric." William opened the discussion with a calm but deliberate tone. "He's not just corrupt, he's also the primary shareholder in the textile company that enslaves children in its factories. The death rate among those workers reaches thirty percent in a single year. And—" He paused, his eyes narrowing at the map as his pen tapped twice against the table. "He's also one of the biggest financial backers of the newly passed Security Act. That law, as we all know, will clamp down on the rights of common folk to gather, to speak, to even voice their grievances."
Albert gave a brief nod at William's explanation, though his gaze lingered on his brother's face instead of the map. He knew how important this plan was for all of them, but he also noticed something else. William's cheeks looked more hollow than they had a few weeks ago. His jawline stood out sharper, and the dark circles beneath his eyes had grown deeper.
"So, what's the plan?" Moran cut in, pulling everyone's attention back. "We can't just shoot him from afar. Dendoric's guarded more tightly than a minister."
William quickly drew a line across the map pinned on the board and explained the outline to Moran, based on information he'd managed to extract from someone inside the government.
"He has a habit of attending private banquets at the Red Falcon club. Its not an official event, just a small circle of aristocrats flaunting their wealth and scheming their politics. That's where his weakness lies. In a closed room with his guard thinned out, we can slip in."
His hand moved deftly as he marked points on the diagram he had just sketched. He wrote their names alongside small notations on the board.
"Fred, you go in first, make sure the back door stays open. Moran, you'll follow as a guest, i've already prepared the forged invitation. Louis and I will wait outside, watching the exits. Albert will stay close to me. When the time is right, Dendoric is drunk enough not to notice his surroundings, Moran can steer him into a private room. That's where we'll finish him."
The room fell silent, the only sound the scratch of William's pen as he jotted down numbers; timings, the estimated distances between doors, the count of guards.
Albert felt something twist painfully in his chest. William's voice went on and on, steady and detailed, but his hand trembled faintly. His body leaned closer and closer toward the board, as if the weight of his thoughts was pressing him down until he nearly toppled under it.
"Will, have you eaten today?" Albert asked suddenly, suspicion sharpening his voice. But William didn't so much as glance his way. He didn't care for his own health and he never did. It was a habit none of them could break unless he collapsed outright.
"Brother, that's not important right now. What matters is the plan—"
But the sentence never found its end. The chalk slipped from William's hand, his eyelids drooping halfway shut as his body lost balance, and within seconds he crumpled sideways.
Albert moved faster than anyone else. With the reflexes of a soldier that had never dulled, he caught his brother before he could hit the floor. Strong arms braced his shoulders and eased him carefully onto the long bench at the side of the room.
"Niisan!" Louis cried out, his voice breaking with worry.
Albert pressed his palm against William's cheek and felt the startling chill there. His breathing was still steady, still even but far too weak. Albert brushed the thin sheen of sweat from his brother's forehead, then lifted his gaze to the others with a sharp, unyielding look.
"He's pushed himself too hard again."
Silence swept through the room once more, filled only by the sound of William’s slow, even breaths. They all knew this habit too well.
Albert settled beside the bench and didn't so much as shift. His eyes stayed locked on his brother's pale face, his lips pressed into a thin line as he forced down the turmoil clawing through his chest. In his mind, memories reeled of how many times William had driven himself into this same state, and every time, guilt gnawed deeper. As someone who revered him so much, Albert felt as if he’d failed to protect him.
"We'll go over the plan again tomorrow," Albert said firmly, leaving no room for argument. Of course, none of them would dare argue when their concern for William was written plain across their faces. "For now, we're not putting any more strain on him."
Everyone agreed. William needed rest. And this time, they weren't going to let him escape it.