Drip. Drip. Drip.
The blood oozed out onto the red velvet carpet to form tiny little puddles that seeped into the soft fabric, spreading like wildfire.
Florian knew he was dying.
But he still had himself.
Maybe, just maybe…
Maybe he could make it.
He closed to door and locked it.
And then...
His last breath left him.
He dropped to the carpet with a heavy thud, the last remnants of his pained grimace still etched on his face.
Ms. Mantillon knew she was running late.
Melissandre had been exceedingly annoying today, which may've explained why Ms. Mantillon felt the need to rub Florian's will in her face. She'd have to tell Florian, of course. But he'd probably be ecstatic that Melissandre was fuming.
That woman cares for nothing but money anyway, Mantillon shook her head sadly. But this way, Celene will be the sole successor of the family fortune and business. Clarisse and I will be the primary caretakers for the girl.
She felt something soft squish underneath her foot as she stopped in front of Florian's door.
When she lifted her foot, she found a silver barrette decorated with lilies.
Lilies. Briala. She must've dropped it. She thought.
Frowning irritably, she gently nudged the petals to the side and proceeded to knock on Florian's door.
"Sir?" She spoke into the door. "It's me. I'm here to help with the conference material. Can I come in?"
There was no answer.
Mantillon tried knocking again.
"Sir? Are you sleeping?"
No answer again.
Sighing irritably, she proceeded to pull out her own keycard and slid it into the slot near the door handle. In her haste and annoyance, she failed to notice the small splatter of red decorating the gold doorway on the floor.
The door's mechanism clicked, the green light flashing, and she swiftly opened the door, ready to chastise Florian.
Blood.
Ms. Mantillon immediately froze in her steps.
Someone started screaming.
She dropped her purse and folder unconsciously. Her legs turned to jelly and she found herself plummeting to her knees. A peculiar smell pervaded the air as she collapsed. Her stomach churned and bubbled.
Seconds later, she realized she was the one screaming.
By the time Nymeria and the others arrived on the scene, it was already too late.
Still, she immediately called the Skyhold Police Department.
No one was allowed inside the scene of the crime, she told the shocked Valmont family.
Briala was doing her best to comfort a distraught and weeping Celene, who tried to enter the room to see her uncle desperately. Briala and Clarisse had to hold her back from entering the room. Clarisse's face was ash white and her hands were shaking. She could barely take her eyes away from her dead brother-in-law.
Nymeria tried to ask Ms. Mantillon on specifics of the circumstances in which she found Florian, but the Valmont personal assistant woulld barely say a word. Her face was scrunched as if she suspected Nymeria herself of killing Florian. So if Ms. Mantillon was distressed, she certainly hid it well.
In fact, no one said a word.
No one knew what to say. They were all too shocked.
Judging by the dried blood around Florian, it had been too late to save him now.
It was probably even too late when Ms. Mantillon arrived to see him.
No one knew when it had happened.
No one saw anyone.
But there was one thing they knew for certain:
Florian Valmont was dead.
And he had been murdered.