A dream is all it is, tragically.
...Do you ever wish we had no other brothers, that it was just us two? There'd be a lot less strife in our lives, were that the case.
John tuts sardonically. "She's getting lax in her dotage. She ought to tighten your apron strings."
He pauses, savouring the thought that his back must be aching by now, then finally lazily gestures for him to rise.
"Hadn't you better seek it outdoors, then? Far away, ideally."
William's eyes narrowed to mere slits as he is forced to stare just above the floor. He idly imagined John tripping and falling down the stairs.
"I have not seen La Reine in many a moon, Your Grace," he replied formally.
"Good hunting, Sire. That is what I seek."
In return, John purposefully doesn't give him permission to rise. Get a good, looooong look at those ankles.
When he speaks, John audibly rolls his eyes.
"What do you want, Marshal? Has ๐ฎ๐ข๐ฎ๐ข๐ฏ sent you to spy?"