Albert has grown used to the pleas from nobility for him to attend their social gatherings. Men wish to speak politics and play pool with him, women long to be his arm candy for the night. And God, does he despise it. He would much rather be sat comfortably by the fire with a book and glass of wine in hand. Not forcing himself to nod and smile as stuffy nobles brush elbows with him, much like now.

The ballroom is bustling, a dull murmur of chatter harmonising with the live music. Except, you're with Albert tonight.

"Thank you," he hums to you for the tenth time this evening. "You make these things more bearable. I cannot stand how my status makes some people comfortable speaking on things they know so little about." Albert rolls his eyes as he tales a long, slow drink from his wine.