The ominous tree branches clattered against the castle's glass windows. The rain flung itself against the stone foundation as if to gain entry and experience the magnificence inside. A silhouette of a man on horse was thrown against the courtyard's stony interior. Bash dismounted his horse. The reigns still grasped in his shaking hands, he tied them to the nearest tree. Wiping the dripping water from his eyes with the back of his sleeve, he dashed into the castle.

Please, Catherine, please still be awake.

He entered her office chambers to find her immersed in foreign letters, while Narcisse was illustrating the benefits of forging an alliance with Norway.

"Bash," said Narcisse in his mocking voice.

"What is it?" asked Catherine, sensing the fear in Bash's eyes. He bowed his head for a minute trying to formulate how best to explain the situation at hand.

"Catherine, I know you don't meddle in the affairs of the village, but there is no easy way to say this. I went down to the village to investigate a break in-only to find a murder." Catherine's eyes flickered for a moment, but she replied,

"Men die every day in France. It was most likely the English's doing."

"I'm not so sure. This was the reverend of the village. He had his hands cut off-and on his wrists, carved in his flesh, was the word GREED."

"Bash, I'm sure it was just a silly dispute between some peasants and the reverend. If you do investigate further, please, be careful. I can't afford to lose anyone else." She went back to her writing, but Narcisse continued to gaze at Bash.

"I heard a rumor in the village about this new killer. He is dubbed the Sin Killer. Pretty ironic name if you ask me. Anyways, supposedly, the people think that he is copying a serial killer from centuries ago."

"How could they tell? There has only been one killing so far?" Bash asked suspiciously.

"Don't ask me! Ask them."

"I will." Bowing once more, he said, "I will keep you informed, Catherine-but hopefully, I will catch the killer before he strikes again." As he said this, he exited the room. Narcisse turned to Catherine.

"We should investigate this killing," he said grinning and walking around her desk.

"Why? It's not as though this has anything to do with us," replied Catherine-annoying and refusing to glance up from her letters.

Narcisse began kissing her neck from behind.

"You have to admit. It would be fun." She pushed him away.

"I'm trying to finish this tonight, Narcisse. Leave me alone." Re-organizing the stack, a purple envelope slipped from the stack. It exhibited an aura of importance,so Narcisse made a quick lunge to grab it.

"Another one of your servants swooning over you? Or is this an archduke perhaps?"

"Give me that! Of course it's not one of my lovers because in case you haven't noticed, I haven't had the time to take on one!" She made a snatch for it, but Narcisse elevated it out of her grasp.

"So not a lover…" said Narcisse-mockingly pondering. Catherine saw her chance, and yanked it out of his hands.

"Will you leave?! I ha-" Just as she turned her back to return to the calling of unanswered letters, Narcisse grabbed her from behind and lifted her off the ground. She let out a gasp followed by a fit of giggles.

"Quit being so childish, Stephan."

"Me?! Lord Chancellor! Childish? Never!" he said as he twirled her, reclaiming the letter, and setting her down.

"Now then," he smiled as he re-smoothed the crease, "who is the mystery writer? The man of the shadows," he said-grinning and tearing open the letter. Plopping himself down on the embroidered couch, he removed the letter. Catherine attempted once last ambush while still smirking.

"Stephan, that is my private mail your reading." He put one arm in front of her chest, crushing her between his arm and the back of the couch. Narcisse wore a matching smirk until he scanned the letter.

"Catherine, that murder...I think it concerns us now. This letter..." He shoved it in her face.

"Let me see that!" All seriousness had returned to her face.

Don't think you can escape from your punishment. The day has come for you to face judgement here on Earth. The same as you would in Heaven. You best watch your step, Catherine. Not even your Lord Chancellor or Bash can save you from your sins. We will meet very soon.

Yours truly,

The Sin Killer

Catherine's face was filled with a sickly pallor, but immediately transitioned back to its normal shade. She stretched her mouth into a slight smile.

"Are you actually afraid?" said Catherine, almost laughing. "I receive threats like these on the daily. I've had much worse. One wrote that he wanted to rape me and then blind me using Spirits of salts. Honestly, Stephan, I don't take this seriously and neither should you."

"Your lying. I saw how pale your face became," he whispered, pulling her close to him. "Don't try lying to me. I know when you do. It makes you look vulnerable."

"I don't care how it makes me look! Get out!" she yelled, ripping her arm from his grasp.

"I suggest we go with Bash tomorrow to see what we can uncover."

"Fine. Just...leave," her voice was threatening to break.

"As you wish, your Majesty." Once the door shut, Catherine clasped her hands together and brought them to her head. She quietly started to sob.

How could I have been so naive? I should have known everything would come back to haunt me.

Outside of her doors, Narcisse leaned against the door, listening to her unravel. Desperately, he wanted to engulf her-to shield her from the dangers of the outside world- but he knew that if he strolled back in there, she would definitely kill him. Pushing off the door, he went in search of Bash.

"Bash, Catherine and I have decided to accompany you tomorrow. We would both like to contribute to the advancement of this investigation."

"Since when?" asked Bash fiercely. Narcisse reconstructed the events of minutes ago.

"No. You can come, but I am not putting Catherine in danger."

"You know you won't be able to convince her to stay behind. She's too headstrong."

"Fine. But if anything happens to her, I, along with my guards, will be blaming you." With that, Bash turned on his heels and retired to his chamber. Narcisse wandered back down the empty hallway, and listened outside of Catherine's office. He knocked once. Silence met him. He knocked again. The silenced mocked him, laughed at him for expecting a different reply. He quietly opened the door, which creaked in the lonely silence. He saw Catherine collapsed on the couch, head buried beneath her arms. Sliding his own arms under her torso, he carried her to her bedchambers. He removed her red petticoat, and her bone-crushing corset to which her breathing thanked him by calming down. Slipping the covers over her, he watched as a slight smile spread over her otherwise deadpan face. She looked so vulnerable yet ready to conquer the world. How he wished that it had been he, not Henry, who had asked her to marry him first. She was emotionless because of Henry. In an instant, Narcisse became jealous of Francis for having the chance to kill Henry. This feeling subsided as swiftly as it had come when he realized he had been standing over her bed-staring at her like a madman. Gently, he kissed her forehead and hovered there for a minute longer. Her eyes fluttered opened yet she could not comprehend what was happening. All she said was, "What are you doing here?" and drifted back off to her carnival of nightmare that had accumulated over the years. Narcisse gave a small smile, and placing his lips directly beside her hear, he whispered, "I love you too."