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Summary
“You appear at once gentle and formidable,” says Hannibal. “Like a king laying judgement on his subjects. Your flesh bears the scars of battles won, evidence of your strength, yet those same scars mark you as human. Beautiful and fleeting in your mortality.”
Will’s heart thuds against his ribs. He feels formidable. Power sits in his chest like a small molten sun, warming him from the inside out. He wants Hannibal to bow before him, to kiss his ring.
What they’re doing now isn’t so far off from that, really.
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While in prison, Hannibal draws Will from memory. His portraits are later published on TattleCrime. Will decides to let Hannibal draw him from life instead.