"Master, do you not wish to join the mourners." Peter tugged at his robe, trying his best wake him from his stupor. "Leave me be Peter, do not think...I have no feelings, I miss the king greatly" Mikhail scowled, plucking both a black and white feather, he let them flutter in the breeze, and only the most observant would notice the two feathers land atop the coffin as the soil was thrown upon it. ... Mikhail made his way to the Jericho's personal library. There Hamlet, his steward sat with a. ‘If you say you’re sorry one more time, I swear I’ll kill you with that frying pan.’ He left. Paula and Jane sat at the table, unable to believe what had just happened. Marc, their Marc, the Marc they loved, and who, they believed, really loved them, had just walked out. Paula started to cry. ‘Hurts, doesn’t it?’ Jane said, smiling wryly. She meant her bland comment to be funny. Paula nodded but did not smile. ‘I really loved him,’ Paula sobbed. ‘I thought he loved us. I thought this was going. More

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