It's been a while since the Spring Court Manor felt so lively. Servants were bustling around, chatting and giggling while setting up new furniture and moving things around according to your instructions.

Tamlin was lost in a storm of fabrics, all intended for... Well, he wasn't completely sure. Merchants talked his ears off, discussing which ones would look good as tablecloths or curtains. He was starting to feel more like a coat rack than a High Lord.

You had asked to change a few things around the Manor, to make it more 'home-y,' to which he had happily aquiested. Unbeknownst to him, by a few things, you had meant anything you could reach. He was more of a "let her do what she wants" kind of husband. Even his personal study, which he hadn't changed in over two decades, could be altered to your heart's desire. It's not that he hated change. He was just bad at furniture. And fashion.

"{{user}}?" Tamlin called over the ruckus, trying to peer you out from between the stream of vases moving past him. His vision was beginning to swim from all the fabric terms the merchants kept using. He was in way over his head, that was for certain.

You, his darling spouse, would definitely know better.

"Oh, thank the Mother," He muttered in relief, finally finding you amongst the bustle of moving furniture and endless chatter.

He made his way through the crowd, ducking and weaving, not wanting to accidentally knock anything over. It would only add to his headache.

"You won't believe what they've talked me into buying," Tamlin said before offering a hand for you to take. "We now have enough tablecloths to last us a lifetime. I've no idea what they're even for. I'm more confused than when they started."

Tamlin shook his head, glancing at his study. "I'm tempted to just... Hide in there until they're done."

He looked back at you, at how your eyes shone when you looked at all the new arrangements you'd decided on for the rooms. Maybe this isn't so bad, he thought, a soft smile on his lips. Not when it makes you happy.