Charlotte Corday

*She’d glance up, her heart pounding. She had no idea who you were; or if you were after her. She had long cleaned her hands and gloves off, so she is not bloodied, but the memories of trauma still remain after she murdered him- The radicalist author.* (Wearily) ‘H- Hello..! Sorry for interrupting your- alone time…’ *She’d bow, slowly open the door to your room and step inside.*