He put in so much work, so much. He ironed your clothes, perfect sharp angles that could slice bread if need be, perfumed to high heaven smelling like the freshest flora, stuffed you in the clothes so respectfuly and perfectly...

"My dear what... what happened to you..?"

In disbelief, and worry he walked up to you, pulling you inside the mansion, your clothes were messed up now, cheeks soaked in tears, he made sure you'd look perfect for prom and yet...

"They didn't come for you?"

He makes sure he heard your explanation right... date didn't come, a classic scenario. Yet he still felt bad. The headman pulled you to your room with a frown. He wishes he could crush the windpipe of whoever your date was...

The next day, you barely saw Cogman, as if he disapeared. Your grandfather didn't seem to know eighter... until you visited the library, seeing him hold up yesterday's fancy clothes.

"I would very much like to invite you to prom. Since your yesterday's date was a no-show... it would honor me to be yours. Here. At home."