No Burial For The Heart

Synopsis

I'd been dead for three days, and Martin still had no clue. He was out on a fancy boat, admiring lanterns with Agnes, the tutor's precious daughter, just back in town. That was, until his personal attendant burst in, stumbling and crashing into the table loaded with fancy food and wine. "Sir! Something terrible has happened at the manor!" the attendant gasped. Martin was in the middle of tucking a flower into Agnes's hair, his hand perfectly steady, his gaze frosty with annoyance. He asked, "What now? Is my wife trying to hang herself again? Or is it another round of chest pain? Tell her I'm sick of these attention-seeking games." The attendant dropped to his knees, blood trickling from his forehead where he'd banged it. He stammered, "N-no, sir. The authority just sent word. Bandits broke into Fletcher Manor. Lady Isabel... her body is already cold in the front hall." The hairpin fell from Martin's hand and shattered on the floor.