Muffled screams and sounds of struggle. The pillow was pressed against her face. His whole body weight on her. She struggled until the very end.
Once the hands became limp and chest could not rise in a breath - he got off her.
"Charles, you should have more class." - Smiling, the man, friend, sat and watched the scene, on the leather chair at the corner of the room.
A man turned to face his smiling friend, as he left the pillow on her face.
"Sadly there was no time for whole ordeal to have any class." - He walked towards his friend.
Two chairs, table and fireplace. The room was in a classy old mansion. Bedroom, to be precise. Here was the place for Eileen - Charles's wife, to rest. Now her limp body, stiffening, will rest in peace forever.
"Alan," - Charles sat down, - "we should fetch that man to clean this up."
"Oh, Samwell? No, dear, we shan't. We must take care of this ourselves." - Alan enjoyed his whiskey. - "If we call Samwell - the surrounding eyes and ears will know. And we don't want that, do we?"
Charles let out sigh.
"You're right. But how do we get rid of her?" - He took his glass of whiskey in hand.
"Just call Jerry. A doctor he is, just tell him there was some heart attack and you couldn't help her. Pay him well to keep mouth shut, and they all will see it that way. Less hustle." - Alan spoke.
"But what if Jerry speaks of..." - Charles began his sentence, but Alan cut him off.
"Jerry is ex-military. He is too good for own good at keeping mouth shut and not getting involved in anything that's not in any way good for him. So he'll be least of worries." - Alan finished his glass and put it back on table.
The call was made right after the chat. Charles prepared a fine sum to give to Jerry, as the latter arrived in the night, to pick and take away Eileen.
"Sure, shall cremate her and tell that she got a virus that is very contagious. So that you'll sit in the mansion for a few weeks, as a precaution. I'll send in my helper later in all the special suit to help you get the needed items. Call me in case there is anything else." - Jerry spoke in calm and tired tone.
"Thank you." - Said Charles, as he walked out Jerry.
From then on - the medical assistants of Jerry's had been coming over every two days, to deliver the "solution" for the house staff and Charles with Alan. To upkeep the whole ordeal rolling. With the fuss made - there were no possible way for anyone to notice a thing that'd be wrong.
After the fourteenth day of such quarantine - Jerry arrived himself to "check" everyone and tell that they are surely not in danger of the virus that was possessed by Eileen.
That's when the proper burial was done for the wife of the Duke.
Charles had been dealing with piled up documents, as Alan walked in.
"Hmm, I see that you got into the whole paperwork deal. How very hard working of you." - Alan joked.
Charles rubbed his eyes and looked at his friend.
"You've no idea what this is. Since all her possessions alas had been transferred to me, there is still the few little bits of the brother of hers. She signed off few properties for him. So I'm finalising all that in his name. I surely should not look too greedy. 'My dear wife's will', if you will." - Charles leaned back in his leather chair. - "And what has you so happy so early in the day?"
Alan came closer, leaned in closer to Charles, so close that the whisper might have lips brushing against the skin of another.
"I have something that his royal consort had accidentally left in my possession, a great thing that only kings can have." - Alan whispered against Charles's ear.
Charles had looked up at his friend, their faces close.
"Do you mean that you attained the ring of royals?" - Charles was dead serious, as his voice was audible just for two of them.
Alan gave a nod, then pulled out the ring from his pocket. He picked up Charles's hand and put the ring on his friends finger.
"Oh dear, will you marry me, your majesty?" - Alan smirked, as he observed Charles.
Charles pulled hand up, in front of him to look at the ring. Indeed. Royal seal with gemstones. Absolutely the item that is passed down to kings through decades of their rule.
"I'll take that as a yes." - Alan went to pour himself some whiskey. - "I've heard that the king is still in secret searching for his son, that he could pass down the throne. So, we're still in the making of getting you to be that one person for the role."
"I'll just love you and be with you until the end, my love." - Charles smirked at Alan. - "We both know that it will take a bit more to convince that old fart."
Alan shrugged.
"I know it should not be as hard, but not nearly as simple as I'd want to." - Alan picked up some pen from the table.
"With all what we've done, as the wife of mine is off now - it'll be easier." - Charles took off ring, pulled open table drawer, opened the little box inside and put the ring in. Then closed the box and the drawer.
"I still demand attention, booze and sex." - Alan grimaced at Charles.
"Not for a moment did I doubt your requests." - Charles laughed. - "Salon tonight it is then."