Gunfire: The Residue

The coach receded into the night. Heartbeat slowing from its frantic pace, I suddenly felt the weariness of the day settle onto my shoulders at last. I had been granted a reprieve at Master Lorenz's knock, and no more.

It's a silly dream, I told myself firmly. Nothing more.

I quietly closed the door with a click.

I need to stop this foolishness, I continued. It will only hurt me.

The drawing room needed clearing, of course, and the cook would need me to visit the market tomorrow. I suspected we were out of carrots.

"Grace? Could you go to the Unterbrückemarkt tomorrow? Karl will have carrots for us!"

"Yes, of course, Charles!"

I took a deep breath, to steady my nerves, and smoothed down the front of my apron. There were still -

I reached into the front pocket of the apron, and extracted... a handkerchief. Finely woven, in a blue very close to black. Bordered in silver, with a fleur-de-lis in the centre.

In careful embroidering, "Ilse-Lorenz aul Janse-Lomberg".