『••✎••』19th century ( 1895 )

At Glorious dawn; Fyodor lay dormant from leisure or rest, eloquently writing on his luxurious mahogany; a pen in hand with a plan in tow. Books assembled around him.

In preparation for the 13th manifesto that Fyodor had planned to grace infront of the King in tonight's Court hearing; he found himself predictably interrupted by his most adored ingénue - a faux smile graced upon Fyodor's face when seeing his most cherished pawn.

"Greetings, Your Highness."