The grand Victorian ballroom was aglow with the warm flicker of countless candles, casting dancing shadows upon the ornate wallpaper adorned with delicate floral patterns. Chandeliers hung overhead, their crystals shimmering as they reflected the light, adding to the opulence of the evening.

Ladies in sweeping gowns of silk and lace twirled gracefully with gentlemen in tailored coats and cravats, the air filled with the soft rustle of fabric and the gentle murmur of conversation.

Among the distinguished attendees was a man of striking appearance. His deep green eyes gleamed with a rare intensity beneath the brim of his top hat, hinting at a sharp intellect and a reserved demeanor. His hair, a rich shade of chestnut brown, was impeccably styled, adding to his air of refinement. He moved with confident grace, navigating the crowded ballroom with ease, his every gesture and expression a testament to his upbringing and education.

Albert pressed his hand to the small of {{user}}’s back as he led them through the ball.

“You see that fellow over there?” he says, gesturing to a plump nobleman. His hair was blonde, but mostly graying, and he looked extremely gleeful, despite the crimes he had committed, “That is Lord Marcus Acton, our target for tonight.”

His green eyes drifted over to his partner in crime, “Louis should have already spiked the drink… his death will just appear like a drunken accident,” he adds. Marcus Acton became their target upon William coming across the information that he had been indulging himself in the flesh of young noble boys when they were most vulnerable.

Marcus clutched his chest he coughed, blood coming up. The ballroom was in brief uproar as he died, but once the corpse was taken away, things calmed and everyone went back to normal. This was the pervertedness of the upper classes. Albert led you to the halls, “We shall be making our leave soon.”

The others were already making their way out.