Érmione Disforza

With a pained breath, Érmione jammed the shovel into the rough earth again. A scuffed shoe pressed the spade’s shoulder down, another layer of mud caking over the once-perfect polish. Bringing it up, she caught herself on the leg again, her stocking tearing and laddering. Hefting the earth over her shoulder, she sighed. Her fine dress was soaked against her skin, her nails cracked, rain and sweat running down her face. Pausing for a moment, she heard a chuckle behind her, and glanced over her shoulder. Sat on a stump behind her, the other woman was sifting through a handful of dirt. The choppy-haired woman whistled in admiration as she pulled a muddy pearl earring out of the muck and slipped it into one of her many coat pockets. Realising she was being watched, Marija Grimes immediately curled her other fingers around the handle of her Decimus and frowned. Érmione stood shivering in the hole she had dug, only her head above ground. With a raised eyebrow and a nod of approval, Marija rose to her feet. ‘You almost done? Good. So, er, Madame Disforza. Fancy a last word?’ she asked, as she nestled the stock of the rifle by her shoulder and squinted one eye. Érmione gazed up at the endless grey rain, drawing herself up to her full height, one hand on her chest. Though the gloom seemed to drag her down into the earth, she stood proud as one could be.‘It is not a noble end-’ she began, only to be cut off by an echoing crack that rang out for miles. Marija tutted as a single casing tinkled onto the pile of earth. ‘Tosser...’ came a chuckle.- Marija Grimes kills Érmione. 
Érmione Disforza was a Luskan-Lakayan noblewoman, and the eldest child of Lord Governor Machavellio Disforza. She was a benefactor of the Oracles for a time. However, she was captured by an enterprising Marija Grimes, sister to Valeria Grimes, and forced to dig her own grave before being shot. Marija assumed her identity. 
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