Wilbur POV:
He peeked through the doorway of the kitchen and saw it, sitting on a shelf.
Casia mors. A small, inconspicuous bottle, but extremely deadly.
Conveniently for him, kitchens often used it to control the rat population because of the way it smelt strongly of lavender, meaning it wouldn't overly disrupt the food smell.
However, he couldn't exactly walk in and grab it. He glanced around the room and saw a little hatch on the side, covered by a crate of fresh fruit.
A faint shuffling behind him made him instinctively reach for his knife but the voice made him stop.
"You hungry?"
He spun to see little Tubbo standing behind him.
"Oh, uh, no I just-"
Tubbo peered around him at the door and grinned. "I can get in there y'know. The chef hates me because I'm always in there stealing food."
Wilbur raised an eyebrow. "I can see why that might grate them."
Tubbo fervently looked around. "You wanna know how I get in? I have a secret tunnel! But don't tell anybody!"
"Oh I won't, I promise. Can you show me?"
Tubbo nodded and took his arm, leading him around the corner.
He grinned back at Wilbur and pulled back a tapestry to reveal a small wooden hatch, identical to the one inside the kitchen.
Wilbur put two and two together.
"I haven't used it since they caught me last time and blocked it off inside, but it leads right in there!" Tubbo was rambling.
Wilbur examined it. There was no way he would fit inside. He supposed it used to be for the kitchen cat or something so it was far too small.
Besides, it would be pretty noticeable on the other side if a grown man crawled out of the wall.
He looked back at Tubbo. Hmm.
Would it be terribly immoral to have Tubbo fetch his cousin's murder weapon? Probably. But when had he ever cared about morals?
Still, he felt a little uneasy as he knelt down to Tubbo's height and smiled playfully at him.
"Hey," he whispered conspiringly, "if I move the blockage on the inside, do you reckon you can get me something?"
Tubbo nodded. "Oh yeah, I'm super sneaky, they won't even notice I'm in there."
"Great. The little bottle on the bottom shelf on the far wall. It has a little purple label."
He started to walk away but turned back to say, "I'll knock on the door inside to let you know it's safe to come out. Just wait a few seconds after I do."
Tubbo nodded determinedly and saluted to Wilbur before crouching down to crawl behind the tapestry.
Wilbur went back to the door and stepped inside to greet the noise and bustling of a castle kitchen.
No one even really acknowledged him at first, until a voice behind him said "Can I help you?"
He turned again and put on his most charming smile. "Yes ma'am, I was sent by Lady Veralda to collect some cooking alcohol."
This wasn't technically true, but it was something he saw her ask another servant so it wasn't too far-fetched.
The cook snorted. "Normal stuff not cutting it anymore? God that woman is on the path to becoming a bigger alcoholic than that wet sock of a king. Lord bless his soul."
Wilbur coughed to cover the burst of shocked laughter that erupted from his mouth.
Sure the castle servants gossiped, but most still didn't dare talk shit about the royal family. Or at least they were subtle about it.
This woman didn't seem to give a toss. Now that he noticed, she was quite young to be head chef, which he assumed her to be from the way she was barking orders at the other people scuttling around.
"Yes ma'am." He said, still stifling a smile because he didn't know what else to say.
The woman waved her hand dismissively. "Just call me Puffy. The cooking alcohol is over here." She said and led him over to the other side of the room.
He followed, kicking the crate loudly to the side as he did. "Whoops. Tripped." He said when Puffy glanced back with a raised eyebrow. When she turned around again he raised his foot slightly and discreetly rapped on the trapdoor with his heel.
He caught up to her and took the bottle of clear liquid she handed him.
"Thanks." He said.
The cook took him in for a second. "New, are yah?"
Wilbur shrugged sheepishly. "You got me. Yeah I'm new. Name's Wilbur."
"Staying?"
"Passing through."
"Too bad. It's good pay. Plus, you seem to be around Prince Quackity's age, and between you and me, that kid needs friends."
Wilbur put on a rueful smile. "Alas, I want to travel back to my hometown soon."
Puffy nodded understandingly. "It seems a long time since any of us have been home really. With this war and all. Some of us don't even have homes to go back to." She said tiredly.
Wilbur sighed. "It's not much better in other kingdoms either, I'm afraid."
Puffy grimaced and leaned against the flour-stained table. "Just troublesome times isn't it."
"Here's to simpler times!" Wilbur announced dramatically, taking a swig from m the bottle in his hands.
Puffy laughed as Wilbur immediately spat out the drink.
"Eurgh, that is strong stuff, isn't it?" He said distastefully. And he was someone who didn't shy away from a strong drink.
"See you, Wilbur," Puffy said amusedly.
Wilbur half-heartedly waved and walked back to the door.
At the last second, he glanced behind him, just in time to see a tiny shoe disappear into the trapdoor.
He smiled and left the kitchen.
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Wilbur POV:
He met up with Tubbo as he turned the corner to see him barreling towards him.
"I got it!" Tubbo cried out, before rethinking. "Got it." He repeated quieter.
Wilbur grinned. "Nice one Tubbo, thanks."
Tubbo reached to give him the bottle then hesitated.
"It has a skull on it. Is it dangerous?"
Wilbur tried to think of an excuse.
"Why do you need it?" Tubbo asked earnestly.
"It's for your cousin." That was true. "He asked me to get it for him." That was not.
Tubbo looked at the bottle before giving it to him.
Then he looked up and met Wilburs' eyes. "Don't let him drink it. He might get hurt. I don't want him to get hurt again."
Wilbur felt a pang in his chest. "I promise." He said solemnly. The words felt like dirt on his tongue.
But Tubbo must have trusted them because he smiled and ran off, leaving Wilbur to stand in the hall, clutching his little bottle of poison.
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Quackity POV:
He stuffed his hands unceremoniously in his pocket and grouchily shuffled along the hallway.
It was raining outside so he couldn't train because apparently he wasn't allowed to get pneumonia before his coronation.
He considered going to the library but he wouldn't be able to concentrate on reading anyway so there wasn't much point. Plus he wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone.
He entered the throne room and approached the large gold-trimmed throne at the head of the room.
He ran his fingers along the dark red velvet. Hard to imagine in a short time he would be sitting here.
It dwarfed him, and made him look like a little kid playing pretend when he sat in it.
Schlatt had liked fancy things, so everything was covered in gold and way bigger than necessary.
Quackity stepped back to descend the few stairs but his foot never reached the step as he was suddenly clutched and pulled away.
He met soft brown eyes for a fraction of a second before a massive crash sounded behind him and he turned to see a large wooden candelabra colliding with the floor and sending glass and candles flying everywhere.
He felt strong arms pull him aside again to avoid the shards of glass.
Once the shock wore off he acknowledged the man practically holding him.
"Wilbur?"
Wilbur stepped away and brushed himself off. "Jesus, that was insane."
"What are you doing here?"
Wilbur raised an eyebrow. "Gosh, thanks for saving my life!" He prompted sarcastically. "I just came up to talk to you and saw the thing start to fall."
Quackity looked up at the ceiling and the fallen candelabra below. "What are the chances of that happening huh."
Secretly he thought maybe Schlatt was coming back to haunt him because he was prying around his old throne.
But he didn't say that.
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Wilbur POV:
This wasn't an accident.
The severed ropes on the wall behind him told him that.
But the main issue was that it wasn't him.
He really did just come to talk to the prince, and he did see the candelabra fall.
And, out of what he could only claim to be instinct, he really did save Quackity.
What on earth was wrong with him? Why did he do that? Was it a temporary sentimental lapse in judgment brought on by Tubbo?
He was meant to be assassinating the prince, not saving his life!
Despite being annoyed at himself and honestly very confused, he caught Quackity's arm and motioned to the doors.
"Let's get out of here and get someone to come clean this up." He said distractedly.
Quackity nodded, still staring at the fallen mess.
"Uh, yeah, ok."
As they left, Wilbur looked back, wishing he could search the room.
Because as he sorted through his meddled thoughts, one crossed his mind that made his situation a lot more complicated.
Someone else was trying to kill the prince.