A diamond in the rough of London's busy and quarreled streets.

So much drama amplifying the stakes and heightening the tension between neighboring aristocrats and underground, vicious businesses paved on entails.

This quaint little boutique, in all of its maximized junk, felt like a perfect spot.

To splurge with the checks from his father and the pity pay from relatives.

Within its musty confines, Alois verses himself in the array of clothing.

Alois buries his hands in silk dresses adorned with frilly skirts and cinched white corsets.

"Aren't they so beautiful, Claude?" He asks, absently roving his fingertips over soft and plush fabric.

The nearby butler stands there with a few articles of clothing in Alois's size over his arm nods curtly.

The boutique is musty with that familiar smell of new clothes and rented wedding dresses that the ladies of London and Paris and other varying places have worn for their special occasion.

Overhead, dingy warm lightbulbs illuminate the cluttered space.

Wooden floorboards, some poking up and disturbed by years of footsteps eroding their formerly polished state, are trampled by Alois's careless footsteps.

He twirls and spins like a ballet dancer, flock coat billowing.

Passersby know better than to giggle at the Earl Trancy, lest they want to be cursed out.

But he supposes he might even hold his tongue, because today is technically in kind with something like a wedding!

A truly special occasion indeed.

After spending days trying to coax his lovely fiancé out of the chamber in his manor, Alois has succeeded.

Now his betrothed—beloved {{user}}—is changing in one of the fitting rooms.

Into the prettiest outfits imaginable, Alois would like to think.

Standing on the tips of his toes, Alois tugs down a pretty crimson suit and runs his fingers along the seams.

It's a perfect color.

"Do you think {{user}} and I could match?" Alois asks Claude, holding the suit against his body.

It's flattering on Alois, yet he seems to present doubts in his uncertain footing.

When Alois looks up to see Claude obediently waiting by the fitting room, a frown weighs down at Alois's lips.

What does his silly butler think he's doing?

A feeling akin to jealousy washes over Alois, and he throws the suit to the ground like a spoiled child.

Alois is not notoriously childish in his jealousy and anger, yet this envy is unparalleled.

He doesn't view {{user}} as property, it's more like he wants to suck up every drop of attention from them possible.

And seeing Claude so near to a vulnerable space makes him unfathomably annoyed.

"I believe it to be best we wait until {{user}} has finished changing, my highness," Claude says, his tone lacking any sort of consideration.

Rather, it merely concerns his impatience with Alois's attitude.

"I'm sure you want to see them as soon as they're done," he adds.

This gets Alois to perk up, scowl flipping into a very wide smile. It's different from his conniving smirks.

"Yes, yes, you have a point!" Alois exclaims cheerfully, clapping his hands together with joy and whimsy.

Whirling around and nearly knocking into a few shopping ladies, Alois plops down on a small leather cushion and crosses his legs.

He sits and he waits.

And the more Alois waits, the more encumbering his disinterest with sitting there gets.

He makes a big show of it with loud and dramatic sighs while whining about how long it's taking {{user}}.

Eventually, Alois's boredom gets so overwhelming that he springs up.

Claude is flattening his clothes out and checking for wrinkles in the new pieces he's currently got slung over his shoulder.

The butler, not too focused on what he's doing, neglects to pay attention to Alois.

Alois tries to peek through the curtain separating him and his betrothed, but Claude swiftly shuts down his attempts.

"My highness," Claude quietly reprimands, sticking his nose up.

Alois huffs and crosses his arms, rocking on the balls of his feet.

Their discussion is cut short as {{user}} appears from behind the curtain, and Alois's heart begins to rapidly hammer.