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Oct. 26th, 2014 03:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the26commandmentsLord Christian Tulliver, lay dead in his chair.
He was seated near the head of a long, ornate table, covered with dishes of food that were never permitted to run low. He had been the guest of honor. Asher, on the other hand, had been under strict instructions to keep his mouth shut.
Since his sudden death, most of the courtiers had withdrawn politely from the table, and were now mingling happily in the ball room. The servants had attempted to clear the table, but Asher - finally incapable of staying quiet - had chased them off like an angry terrier.
They had been part way through the fifth course of the meal, when Lord Tulliver had begun to choke. Asher had risen quickly, to try and dislodge what he'd assumed to be a piece of food trapped in the man's throat, but before he'd had the chance, Tulliver's lips had erupted with blood. He had choked and drowned on the stuff, spraying the dishes before him, and splattering nearby guests. One woman, dressed in pale blue silk now stained with red, had to be led away. The others had recovered more quickly, and their host had graciously hurried them on to dancing.
So now they sat together. The sullen Lieutenant, and the dead Lord, waiting for the proper authorities, whatever those may be.
He was seated near the head of a long, ornate table, covered with dishes of food that were never permitted to run low. He had been the guest of honor. Asher, on the other hand, had been under strict instructions to keep his mouth shut.
Since his sudden death, most of the courtiers had withdrawn politely from the table, and were now mingling happily in the ball room. The servants had attempted to clear the table, but Asher - finally incapable of staying quiet - had chased them off like an angry terrier.
They had been part way through the fifth course of the meal, when Lord Tulliver had begun to choke. Asher had risen quickly, to try and dislodge what he'd assumed to be a piece of food trapped in the man's throat, but before he'd had the chance, Tulliver's lips had erupted with blood. He had choked and drowned on the stuff, spraying the dishes before him, and splattering nearby guests. One woman, dressed in pale blue silk now stained with red, had to be led away. The others had recovered more quickly, and their host had graciously hurried them on to dancing.
So now they sat together. The sullen Lieutenant, and the dead Lord, waiting for the proper authorities, whatever those may be.
