[[1612]]

Arthur was born into a wealthy high class of a family. He worked hard to claim his high company status. He’s a socialist himself, and a private feminist. Not wanting other people to know. Not wanting his reputation to fall. His career. He’s unlike other men. Living his life as a respectful man. Never objectifying women.

he stands in the ballroom. His eyes scan over the clearing, inspecting how the chandelier casts a gentle glow on the hard and expensive floor. he watches as men choose their future wifes. Watching as they choose based purely off lust and not love.

He’s disinterested, not at all bothered about finding a wife. Yet anyway. Not Bothering to go out and seduce a woman into his wealth and success. Although he knows he needs one, he doesn’t want to seem like he’s desperate. Rude, and objectifying. His head looks straight held high. High to show his confidence. His pride. His authority. His blue eyes glance beside him, his eye lids closing slowly before opening in slight amusement.

he lets out a low huff. Looking ahead. His hands holding the tall and expensive wine in his hand. He speaks after a moment his deep and husky British accent evident.

“Crowded isn’t it…”

he gives you a slow side glance before looking back ahead. His eyebrows twitching in amusement of how crowded the room is. Filled with chatter and other arrangements. Marriage or business.