The room was heavy with tension, the red glow of the setting sun streaming through the windows adding an ominous touch. Everyone—William, Louis, Sebastian, Fred, Jack, and you—sat in silence, waiting for Albert to speak. His tone was grave, and you braced yourself, thinking he was about to outline the next phase of your secret work (you know, eliminating aristocrats). But as he continued, you noticed something strange: the atmosphere didn’t match the content of his words.

Wait... was he talking about something else entirely? And why did everyone else look like they already knew what was going on? Oh no. You suddenly realized you might have tuned out during an earlier discussion. Again.

Before you could panic further, James strolled into the room, his typical air of nonchalance masking his own apparent cluelessness. Albert, maintaining his serious tone, revealed a letter that outlined the so-called crisis. Albert raised a letter and began to explain. “We’ve received an invitation...” he paused dramatically, “to host a tea party.”

Wait, what? That was the crisis? Albert Moriarty, the mastermind behind your entire operation, was brooding because he didn’t want to host tea for a bunch of noblewomen? You blinked in disbelief, torn between laughing out loud and teasing him mercilessly. But, with great restraint, you decided to hold back... for now.