It was quiet in the room. Too quiet. Lady Margaret Handhour of the Dalaran Council lay, prone, and still on the pristine sheets. Slender, pale fingers reached out to caress the age-worn face of the deceased lady. Warmth had long fled the mother's body, but she wore a serene expression. She had been ready for death, while her daughters had not.
Lady Handhour was cold to the touch, just as her eldest daughter now was.
"Miss? It would be wise for us to take the body now, from the bed, yes?"
Anna jumped up a bit at the sound of the gentlemanly voice behind her. She turned, closing the large hood around her face on instinct, covering her glowing eyes. Her pale lips could only be seen there as she spoke in her soft tone.
"Would be wise, yes. Forgive me, I only wished for more time with her."
The old doctor smiled sincerely, though Anna could see no more than his thick trousers, and the chubby hand which held the medical bag.
"Miss Charlette said as much too. With her permission, we may take the body to have it prepared now. I believe the papers are in order, signed? She had mentioned her assistant would have them."
Annaliese paused, momentarily confused. She stopped herself--Orcish came more naturally to her these days, and she had to rethink her words in Common.
"I...I have them on the desk. Over there. Yes," she pointed with a pale finger to the shelf of the room, where the balcony's breeze billowed the paper's gently. Posing as a human assistant of Miss Charlette Handhour was easier than explaining off her strange circumstance. Of all things, she seemed to be good at disguises after all. She watched as the old doctor procured the papers, listening to the sound of his booted feet pad along the carpeted floor. Her attention next fled to more footsteps, stepping in through the doorway of the room. Lifting her head just a bit, she found the two carried a cloth gurney, as well as a few sheets, while the old Doctor directed them.
"Take her gently now, gently," he urged, and Annaliese fought the urge to help, or rather maybe to run them off from the body. She stiffened as these feelings of rushed her. She had such little time, so little words...
"Please tell your mistress that we will take good care of her mother, miss," the Doctor now spoke, suddenly very near to her. Anna held the hood closed, her head bowed down quickly. "Y...yes. Thank you. I shall...ehm..."
The old doctor took hold of her hand, and brought it to his lips eloquently. She winced as she felt the tickling of his mustasche upon her pale fingers.
"Lady, you are so cold. Are you sure you are not taking ill? I can take a look at you..."
The slender hand recoiled from his grasp before he could finish his words. "The night has been a sorrowful, sir. And my mistress's sorrow has been mine. I am sure I will be better with some sleep, thank you."
With a pause, and rustle of papers, the old man hummed in an odd tone to himself, but his feet followed the others soon enough as the Lady's body was carried from the room. "I will await arrangement orders from the Priest, then. Good day."
Anna stood for a long moment, cloaked in her dark robes, staring down at the now empty bed. There were no tears to be had.
Only the young girl years ago, staring out of her rain-streaked window, who whispered her farewells.
