Lovely Forgotten Crowns

Chapter 15 || The Royal Meeting

(Wilbur's pov)

I had ran back into the castle and tugged my warm cloak tighter around myself, I'm going to miss Dream but he's going to protect our kingdom, he'll be back in a day or two!

I decide to head back to my room and practice my guitar, I remember when Dream sang along with me at the festival, his voice is simply just-well- stunning!

I walk through the strangely empty halls back to my room, I enter my room and close the door, grab my guitar and sit down on my bed.

I slowly begin strumming as I let my thoughts run wild.

The Nether King should be here in a few hours..

Will the guards catch the runaway Jade royals?

What if Dream got hurt on his mission?

Dream will be fine. Techno's there.

And Technoblade never dies.

Gods I hope Dream will okay...

I don't like Dream romantically, platonically? Yes, romantic? No, he's just a really good friend to me!

It's like a ghost town in this castle, it's so silent, the constant taps of the guard's boots is not here anymore and it just... creeps me out.

I slowly pick up my guitars speed, maybe Tommy can help fill this quiet void of a castle, wait no, he's probably fooling around with Tubbo.

I stop playing my guitar, this castle feels... empty without any noise going on.

This castle feels empty without Dream here.

His ideas for my music were so... interesting and creative! And voice just brings it all together in a perfect mix.

...

Ok maybe I do romantically like Dream.

A lot.

I sigh and put my guitar back in it's case, I need a break from everything. This damn war is just so annoying.

I grab my notebook, I've decided to head to the library and search for inspiration.

I walk out of my room and down to the library, there's books on wars in there, books about fighting mind-controlling demons and armies of monsters led by a dragon.

I like these types of books, the authors had such imagination while writing these fictional worlds, but at the same time I also hate them. I hate how much I relate to their stress and struggles, and how threats of death lurk behind them like shadows.

Gods I miss Dream already. Maybe I should practice sword fighting, I was never the best at it but I still know how to wield a sword.

Ok, I'll read in the library for a bit and then I'll go outside to practice my sword skills, maybe archery? I've never really tried it before- I mean I have- but in the books musicians always knew how to wield a bow and arrow.

Why a bow and arrow though? Why not a sword like everyone else? And half the time their elves. Authors are so strange, strange and creative- Strangely creative? Creatively strange? All of these fit a description for an author. Huh.

That was confusing, I'm not surprised.

I pick up a book that sounds interesting, something about dragons and a power hungry king who murdered all the dragons that he didn't like? It sounds interesting though.