Sir Augmen was sitting at the head of his dining room table. Like many nights before, he had come alone, spread his papers over the tabletop, and read over the documents. He began to write down in his journal, before tossing the loose leafs into the dying embers of the fire. They smoldered, not fully lighting.
The new moon had made it difficult to see. He didn't dare light a lamp, knowing that the curious servants or worse, his wife, would come down to see what he was doing. His study had recently been rifled through by his new valet. Once the man had been taken care of, Augmen had hidden all his documents and began to inscribe them in code, before discarding them.
He thought of his pipe in his study and felt the craving to smoke. As soon as the idea came to him, he coughed into his sleeve. Pressing his wrist tightly to his mouth, he tried to muffle the hacks as they escaped him.
Rubbing his eyes, he looked at the ink smeared on his fingers. Odd, had he been so messy with his bottles and quill? His hand started to cramp. Sitting up in his chair, he began to stretch and flex his joints and muscles. Even with the frequent breaks he had been giving himself, this seemed to be happening more and more frequently.
As he stared down at the papers, he saw the text had become blurry. Blinking rapidly, he rubbed his eyes again and coughed into his hands. When he tried to suppress the hacks, it made his face and eyes tingle.
Gritting his teeth, Augmen stood up and prepared to make his way to his study. When he put weight on his feet, his leg muscles cramped up and he fell to the ground. Wheezing, he felt his hands and feet start to curl in on themselves. He gurgled as his knees curled into his chest. Holding up a shaking hand, he began to try and drag himself across the rug.
Every bit of fabric felt like a needle's point scraping across his skin. He saw red pooling underneath him. Shaking his head, he saw the red disappear.
The papers! He had to get to them! His legs felt like someone was drawing a blade across them as he forced them straight. Panting, he spat and put his weight on his twisted hand. When he lifted himself up, he let out a hoarse scream as the sharp pains made him see red.
Doors creaked and he saw a pair of feet in slippers. Augen's vision was spotted with black and he laid still. With a raw throat, he tried to call out to them. He coughed wetly and felt drool pool out the side of his mouth.
The new occupant stopped by the table. The unmistakable sound of paper being looked through and folded was too loud in the empty night. Then, the figure knelt by the fireplace and pulled out the smoking documents and casually batting at them to extinguish the flames. They then pulled out a leather tube and rolled up the documents before placing them inside. He began to convulse, slamming his forehead into the table leg.
Sir Augmen died screaming, his cries never heard.
His body was found the next morning, in a pool of his own blood and ink.
"I took the initiative and sent my sister as a messenger to go contact the coroner." Luclos said calmly, having prepared a pot of tea for the Lady Augmen. He had sat her down in the parlor to serve her the drink.
"I would advise you not to touch him, in case he died of a sickness." He offered the Lady a teacup, which she took in trembling hands.
Her movements were mechanical, her face pale as she sipped the brew while it was still steaming until it was gone. She set the cup down on a small circular table in front of her. Despite draining it, she held up her hand to refuse another cup and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
She leaned back in the chair, lacing her fingers together and staring up at the ceiling. After hearing the news of her husband's demise, she had donned a black dress and had gotten a few papers together, each one inscribed with a prayer.
"Thank you for being here for me, Dirol." She said softly, looking at the teapot and then at the dates she'd written down. "You and Buttercup have been so kind to me these past few months, I'm not sure what I would do without you two." Tears welled up in her eyes and she dabbed at them again.
"I had no idea if he was ill. Surely the thought of the weakness crosses everyone's mind, but you never think it will happen in your household." She dabbed her eyes again. "It's all so sudden. First the children, then their father. Truly I will be alone at this rate."
Luclos took the Lady's hand and bowed his head. Had he been a higher born, he would have been bold and kissed her fingers. Not that the Lady was a princess or highborn herself. She was a Lady in title only, as the riches of the family had gone to take care of her poor health after the carriage accident.
"Not to worry, I am sure your brother in law will be here as soon as he gets the news. And my sister and I will be at your side." He grinned and looked toward the double doors leading into the manor. Giving the hands a gentle squeeze, he quickly released them.
Taking the tray with the tea set, he took it into the kitchen. In the doorway leading into the dining room, he saw the body curled up on the floor and took in a deep breath. It had stiffened and was still fresh, but would be rotting before too long. He'd done what he could to keep the Lady from seeing it.
He set the dishes in the sink and began to fill it up with water. As he stared out the window to the courtyard, he tried to collect his thoughts.
When he began to scrub at the cups, he paused when he saw a shape approaching in the distance. It was a large cart, with three occupants.
"I believe they're here, my lady." He rolled his sleeves back down and dried his hands on a rag. "I see the cart approaching.
"So quickly?" Lady Augmen rose up and dashed to the powder room. She was far from an ugly woman, with a regal beauty even with her hair unkempt and her face free of paint. But it wouldn't do to not look prim and proper for her guests. Luclos resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was no fault of the Lady.
The cart stopped in front of the home. It was being pulled by two regal ink black horses with blinders on. The driver hopped off the cart first.
They were blonde, with their hair slicked back and pulled into a tail. Their hair was the only light thing about them, their eyes beetle black, skin a dark brown. A black neckerchief covered their face from the bridge of their nose down. Their outfit was a black robe, with a silver chain wrapped around their neck. They carried a satchel, with the logo of the coroner stamped across it.
The person in the middle stood a full head and shoulders over the coroner. She was dressed in the grey robes of a Sister of the Sinners. All of her hair was tucked under a scarf covering her head. She had sun damaged skin covered with freckles. Despite her aged face, her eyes were full of life and light.
The last occupant was Buttercup, shorter than the sister, but taller than the coroner. She wore her servant clothes, a simple white button up shirt, black vest and slacks and boots, with the house of Augmen's insignia over her right breast. Her head was shorn, what little fuzz that had come back looking strangely dark. In the rising sun, a pair of brown studs glittered in her lobes, matching her eyes. There was also a beauty mark above her upper lip.
The dark hair and brown eyes was where the resemblance between Luclos and his "sister" ended. He had olive toned skin, his hair long and wavy and pulled into a tail. He was clean shaven for now, but would grow his beard out when his service with the Augmens reached its conclusion.
Lady Augmen came out of the powder room just as Buttercup led the Sister and Coroner inside. She had powdered her face ghostly pale and painted her eyelids and lips crimson. Her expression was stern when she saw Buttercup.
"We're sorry we couldn't be here sooner," The coroner apologized, their voice muffled by the neckerchief. "The steeds were particularly stubborn today." They bowed to the Lady. "It's lovely to see your face, but a terrible time too."
"I will be here for any requests and prayers for your husband's last rites and requests." The sister said, gathering her skirts and curtsying. "As well as taking any potential sins onto myself so that you may have peace."
The Lady seemed to stifle a laugh, but swallowed it down and looked at the servants behind the new arrivals.
"Fetch us all some tea, would you?" She told Luclos. "And could you gather the belongings for the departed?" She directed that request at Buttercup, who nodded and quickly took off.
"I would love some tea!" The Sister chuckled, "I know the three day fast is generally the selected amount of time, but would you like me to take any additional days for you?" She gave Luclos a quick wink before he vanished into the kitchen, preparing a fresh pot.
The trio began talking plans on what to do with the body, funeral rites, and what would happen to the Lady now that her husband had passed. Luclos tuned it out to focus on making the brew. When he brought it back out, he saw Buttercup setting down various items in front of the coroner.
"Ah, I see. It seems that you planned this out quite well!" They exclaimed, before looking to the Lady. "Would you be so kind as to show us the body?"
The Lady inhaled sharply, before nodding. "Of course, this way." She held her hands in front of her stomach and began walking toward the dining room. "Luclos found him this morning, it's tragic, simply tragic." The conversation trailed off as they vanished inside.
Luclos shot Buttercup a look.
"Really?" He asked, crossing his arms. "You had to go and get them involved?"
"I had to come up with an excuse!" She hissed through her teeth. "The client was waiting at the morgue and wanted to come along."
Luclos frowned, brows coming together. "Why was he there?"
Buttercup shrugged. "I don't know, but he was hellbent on coming to be at her side. Luckily the sister and coroner pointed out that it would be improper for him to be there before the funeral rites."
"Not being very stealthy then," Luclos crossed his arms and exhaled through his nose. "Could blow the whole mission if he's not careful." His eyes went to the staircase that led to the upper half of the manor, where the nobles actually lived. A study, living quarters, and a library had become a second home to him in the past months.
"That's why we do the legwork," Buttercup wrapped her arms around him from behind and pressed her cheek between his shoulder blades.
"All the running does you no good if you trip at the finish line." He bowed his head and brought her hands up to his lips, kissing her fingers.
"Look at you, treating me like a lady." Buttercup slid her hands to his shoulders, working her fingers against his tensed muscles. He let out a groan of appreciation, tilting his head back and relaxing against her. At the increased contact, he felt himself twitch.
She stopped her rubbing and hooked her arms under his, joining her hands at his stomach. He ached for her hands to go lower.
