Elisamarie Fournier: And drink it off Subject: And drink it off; and, if you had the strength of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight. Where: The French Embassy, Elisamarie’s room. Who: Elisamaire. Warnings: Poisoning. Closed Descriptive Post.
Dinner had been cordial, cold – not the food which had been excellent but the tone of the whole event. The ambassador had seemed distracted. Elisamarie was sure she knew what had been keeping his attention. It was rather fortuitous that he was ruled by his pleasures like so many men rather than by logic and rationality. He might have discovered her real reason for being sent to his household.
She was sure he suspected ever since he’d caught her in his study that do but he’d had no evidence and he was too much a coward to do anything if it risked inflicting the wrath of the Council. She knew about him from old, had heard the stories – no he liked his fancy wines and pretty things to much to be of any real difficulty. Although those things would see him sent back to France and Guillotined soon enough. Stealing council money to fund his little affairs with that back ally boy.
It was only a shame she couldn’t have the boy arrested too but she didn’t trust the English not to twist to law to cover their own vice, and he was not part of her jurisdiction.
Smiling to herself Elisamaire went to her desk, unlocking her draw and taking out the old leather bound bible she kept within their. She knew how the old man’s mind worked. If he searched the room he’d not look twice at the relic, not when he was a sinner through and through. She opened the bible, hollow inside, and took out the thick letter hidden there. She’d post it tomorrow when he was out and then it would only be a matter of weeks till a replacement was sent to deal with him.
Carefully she locked it away again and set about undressing, getting ready for bed. She really did feel tired now. It had crept up on her slowly and now she felt drowsy. Draping her dress on the back of the chair, reminding herself to ask for penitence when she was next at church for her sloth in putting her weariness before work.
Getting down on her knees before her bed Elisamaire pressed her hands together and began to whisper her prayers but even as she did she could feel the room begin to spin. She struggled to the end of her prayers, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead and roll down her face and clutched at the bed for support, gasping for breath. Her body felt like it was burning and her stomach churned and stabbed.
She began to scream both from the pain and the realisation of what had happened.
He’d poisoned her. The old bastard had poisoned her!