The Artist | The Lady | The Commissioner | Henrietta | Louise
The Commissioner stepped into the room. The clicks and echoes through the room as the rats scattered; the rising sun streaming in through half-glazed windows. Bending down, he placed a fist into the pool of blood, lifted it. Threw his fist in an arc. The black red fell effortlessly onto canvas, whitewall, and carpet alike. The Commissioner took, with his clean hand, a kerchief out of his trench pocket, wiping his tainted hand clean. "Thank you for completing the commission." The words hung in the air. The Artist's unseeing eyes, open in surprise and resignation, acknowledged the gratitude. A few coins spilled onto the floor next to his face, payment that would never be used for any other bargain. Pale and ghastly in the sunlight.
Henrietta glided down the hallway; it was a skill she'd picked up from her mother. Learning to navigate the floors without sound. A nice skill. She peeked over the banister, which reached above her head - only a few inches left to grow. "Thirteen, mmm? Well. I suppose perhaps I can go over to the other side now." Her hand reached forward, stopped, reached forward. "Louise?" The maid came out of the shadows, almost instantly, almost too quickly. "Yes, my lord." "Will you accompany me to the other side?" Louise inclined her head ever so slightly, one eyebrow higher than the other. "Yes, my lord."
The Time bent.
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