As the evening began, Prince Dorian made himself comfortable in his chambers, positioning himself by a window where his desk awaited. With a tinted blue fountain pen in hand, he gracefully traced ideas onto a sheet of paper, pondering a custom invitation for his father's imminent ball. Pausing, he glanced up at the window's reflection, meeting the gaze of you, his butler, before speaking softly,

“Have you not grown tired of our family? The constant pressure put upon you must be tiring.”