John POV: John was met in the servant's quarters with a wave of relief, everyone rushing to say hello or to make sure that he had made it back in one piece. The soldier had been whisked away by the crowd, leaving without a goodbye as the door closed and John was pulled into the servant's quarters by many familiar faces.
"John we thought you were going to be in the dungeons, how'd you get out?" Greg asked first, letting John sit down on his bed in defeat. John wasn't in a talking mood at the moment; he had just gone through a near death experience, only to get pulled out of it by the man he thought had no heart. Sherlock Holmes of all people had saved him from the dungeons, all after convincing that assassin hunter that John would never kill anyone.
"Sherlock, he convinced them not to take me." John said with a shrug, as if this weren't a big deal. In reality it was, it really was a big deal, but of course they couldn't know that.
"Sherlock, the prince? Why would he save you?" asked someone John didn't recognize. John just shook his head, messaging his face with his hands, feeling miserable. Sherlock had just stood up for him when John had spent the entire night staring at the sleeping prince, trying to decide if he should cut his throat right there or not. He had been awake the entire night, wondering if Sherlock should wake up or not.
"I don't know why he would care about me, but he did, so I don't care. I'm exhausted, god, I got no sleep last night." John insisted with a groan, laying down on his bed and staring up at the ceiling, knowing that all eyes were still on him.
"You were with Sherlock last night, where did you go?" someone asked.
"The stables." John said simply, wanting to answer all their questions as quickly as possible, so that maybe he could get a quick nap in.
"Why would you ever do that?" someone wondered.
"I don't know." John sighed.
"Let him be people, let him be." Greg insisted, pushing everyone away. John sighed in relief, wanting to knight Greg at the moment.
"Thanks." He muttered as everyone slouched back over to their beds. Obviously the servants were under house arrest, it was very unlike them all to be sitting around while there was breakfast to be served or beds to be made.
"How'd the ball go, with Molly?" John wondered. Greg just laughed, laying down on his own bed and looking over at John with a smile.
"All of this just happened, and you want to know about my date?" he wondered.
"Ya, I do, how'd it go? Mine blew up, of course." John shrugged. Of course it blew up, his date ended up murdering the king. She had said she was going to make her move, John only wished that he could've been there to stop all of this from happening. If he had known the entire castle would go crazy maybe he should've stopped her. Then again, this was part of the job, and it ended up that he was doing his job splendidly. An assassin who was vouched for by the man he was supposed to kill, it was a wonderful cover.
"Oh it was great, really great. She liked me, I liked her, she's beautiful, she thinks I'm charming, funny. Then of course, the king got killed." Greg shrugged, as if it were no big deal.
"That's great Greg, I'm happy for you." John decided.
"And how about you? I knew that Mary left but sinking as low as Sherlock Holmes? I was shocked." Greg said with a laugh. John groaned loudly, shaking his head at the mention of Sherlock. For the moment he didn't even want to think of the prince right now, he wanted to live without that constant guilt for at least one second.
"It wasn't like that, Mary left because I couldn't dance, Sherlock wanted to teach me." John said simply.
"He seemed pretty into it, with the gaze he was giving you it seemed as if he had been the one to ask you to the ball himself." Greg decided.
"We're not lovers." John said simply. Greg just laughed in agreement.
"No you're not." He agreed with a sigh. "Do you ever wonder just what goes on in his head? He gets all of these beautiful women thrown at him and he sends them all away? Do you ever wonder just what's wrong with him?"
"He's got high standards I guess. I mean, look at Irene. She's really pretty, but she's a devil, obviously Sherlock doesn't want to spend his life with a horrible person." John pointed out.
"But she's pretty; he'd at least make an attempt to get some affection from her." Greg insisted.
"Maybe he just doesn't want to get married; there are some men like that." John decided with a shrug.
"No there's not. I think he's hiding something. Maybe he has a secret wife, buried away somewhere." Greg decided.
"That's a good theory Greg." John said sarcastically. Greg sighed heavily, but obviously he had to know that his theory was trash, at best.
"Alright then, what do you think about it? What do you think he's hiding?" Greg wondered.
"I don't think he's hiding anything, I think he just doesn't want to bother with romance. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to sleep." John snapped, rolling over in his bed and closing his eyes. Even though the room was fully illuminated and even though all of the men were still chatting loudly, after the day and night John had he fell asleep almost too easily, cradled in his sleep and engulfed in his dreams.
YOU ARE READING
Sherlock is the youngest son of a powerful family dynasty, with all the pressure of being the perfect prince sitting on his shoulders. However, he builds his good reputation on lies and tricks, and he dreads the day when his failures will come into...