Nahleet:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1yAU4Km6wGSCLr1fjh4rZtZi577PoiCjTyS6I5m2eovs/edit
The Gentleman:
Spoiler (Click to Show)
A gentle breeze picked up and angled the falling snow onto a window. The snow didn’t sit on the glass for long and melted, but before it could go very far it added to the icicles that formed below. The window was massive however and custom made to be fitted in that particular spot. The walls were high as well to suggest a very large room on the other side of it and once a person did glance through the window the inside did indeed show the massive ball room of the Prince mansion.
This was also the origin of the music and what beautiful music it was. George hired one of the most aspirational classical musicians of the time to play at this event. The Prince School of Thought for the Less Privileged is an initiative his mom started all those years ago and tonight was just one of those typical fund raisers.
Many of the hottest and richest population of the whole Upper Stickpage District showed up to show their support and hopefully to give the School some financial support. George can only hope.
The Gentleman was dressed in one of his finest black tuxes with a black bowtie. The white shirt under the jacket emphasized his athletic build while the trousers reached down to emphasize his tall physique. He was currently spinning on his black pointed shoes and once he finally stopped, he faced the Lady Pearl. They danced for a while, quite formally, and once the music finally reached its conclusion of the song they both clapped their hands.
She was one of the more attractive women to come to the Fund Raiser with her light pink dress. It was embroidered along the hems and near the bosom area. She was well endowed, but was modest by not showing as much skin. These kind of formal events usually frown upon the modern skin-flashing fashion. She had pretty green eyes and long brown hair with blonde highlights along the tips and while she stared at the RHG before her, she couldn’t help but wear her adorable smile.
George gently inclined his head and dismissed his dance partner with a kiss on her hand. Afterwards he spun on his heels before Lady Pearl could say anything and approached the refreshment table as the new song started. Once there he grabbed himself a glass of the punch and sipped at it irritably. “What I would do for a warm cup of tea right now.” He muttered to himself.
“That would be lovely!” A nearby voice said. He turned to see who it was and was pleasantly surprised to find it belonging to a woman with big brown eyes. She could well be the most beautiful girl at the event and he couldn’t help but smile at her almost completely forgetting his irritation with the lack of tea. Almost.
“Evening my lady, I don’t think we’ve met.” George said placing his cup on the table and extending his arm to take her hand. She placed her hand gently on his and he placed an even gentler kiss upon it. Her skin was soft and clearly well looked after. The rest of her milk-white skin also seemed smooth and clear.
“I don’t believe we have. Marion Walters,” The woman wearing the silk blue dress said. It was of a fine cut and showed her thin figure and tiny waist quite well. She wasn’t very tall, but carried herself in a manner that makes her seem taller. Her arms were exposed all the way to her shoulders and the dress hangs around her neck. “I come from one of the wine estates outside StickPage.” She took back her hand and softly stroked her long black hair. Her face, with the small nose and think lips, seemed distant for a second before she wore a smile again.
“Well met Ms Walters. I am George Prince, the organiser of this event.” He stroked his moustache as if proud of his title. What she said next made him feel less confident.
“Where’s the tea then?” She said jokingly.
“I… I… My mother said that I shouldn’t add it to the event… Not that many tea drinkers among this crowd.” He looked over the waves of people dancing and conversing all over the place. He spotted Lady Pearl giving him a stare, but before he could decipher what it meant, she looked away and continued talking to one of her friends.
“Do you always listen to your mother?” The amusement in her voice clearly grew. Marion seemed to enjoy making fun of him, but before he could stutter a reply she added; “Maybe you and I could go get some tea somewhere alone?” She seemed to have a mischievous look on her face now. George has encountered forward women before, but one with such fire has never truly caught his attention.
He quickly cleared his throat before speaking again. “I’m sure we could find something my dear Ms Walters.” He offered her his arm quite confidently. She looked at it, smiled at him and hooked her slender arm through his. The music changed to a more mocking tone as if to emphasize the fact that their walking past Lady Pearl who clearly hasn’t had enough of the handsome Prince heir.
Just before the couple reached the stairs, clearly making quite the scene with their movement across the floor, a familiar voice said; “There he goes again. I thought he grew up.” Luckily a more positive voice answered; “That’s my boy.”
The voices belonged to none other than his parents who were standing to the side near the staircase that the Gentleman and his companion were approaching. His mother, looking very stern and angry at the world was completely grey on the top of her head. She wore a red silk dress with frills running across her chest and the dress was quite loose downward. She was wearing red high heels to match her dress and it made her as tall as he. Her face was what defined her; smooth, cold and slightly furious at just about everything. She wasn’t impressed with his organisation of the evening, even though nothing has gone wrong, and she is especially not impressed with his current doings with the wRHG.
His father on the other hand was wearing a suit instead of the tux that most other males attending the Fund Raiser. He was as tall as George and also completely grey on his head. Underneath the blazer was a blue button up shirt and a black tie. He had a slight gut visible, but nothing more than most men his age. His face was one that indicated he was handsome once, but withered away through the stress of life, but he still had a smile on his face. Most important thing he told George was to enjoy life no matter what happened. “Live the good life son.” He would say and George has.
‘It is ironic,’ George thought. ‘That those two are married and stayed together all these years.’ Regardless of the comments that were thrown his way, the couple walked up the stairs and left the beautiful mocking melody behind.
They walked in silence for a while, touring through the hallways of the mansion. It was slightly colder there than in the ballroom and Marion gave a shiver. Being the man he is, George took off his tuxedo jacket and placed it over her shoulders.
“My Mr Prince, aren’t you just the gentleman?” She said almost teasingly again.
“Funny you should say that.” He said and gave himself a smile. He pulled his hand through his hair, missing the feeling of his top hat. After a while they reach a room that was above the ball room. If looking through one of the windows that have frosted up a bit one can notice the lights and movement from the celebrations below.
Inside the room were a few elegant couches and a small coffee table. The carpet under it all was made in an eastern European country. On the one wall was the window looking out and on the adjacent wall was a counter top with two items on it. One was a tea set while the other was the marvel of the room; a quaint little kettle. It was an average kettle that would be used in most households across the world, but Marion definitely gave it a curious look.
George sensed his partner’s confused look and quickly explained; “I love my tea and of course having a fancy tea pot is always nice, but I had that specific kettle since StickPage University and it has never failed to produce a perfect cup of Earl Grey.” The music downstairs changed to a more lively sound than the mischievous one of before.
“Interesting. A sentimental kettle. Something I never thought I would hear from a man.” She replied slowly, moving toward the counter top that the items stood on. “So tell me, what is the ingredients to a perfect cup of tea?”
The Gentleman approached the woman in black from behind and placed his hands firmly on hers. “First you flip the switch on the kettle.” He said using her thin finger to switch it on. Marion smelled like lavender and he didn’t hate it. “Next you grab two cups from the set.” Using her other hand he reached for the cups and pulled two closer. She turned her head and looked at him with those brown eyes. His grey eyes were lame in comparison. Her mouth seemed slightly open, but he ignored the hint and continued his instructions. “Next you grab two Earl Grey tea bags and drop them in the cup.” Which was demonstrated as instructed. He stared at her eyes now, moving his face slowly closer. “Next you wait for the kettle to get really hot…” He whispered and moved in.
Sadly their lips never met because the music downstairs suddenly stopped violently. There was a general unrest from the people in the ballroom and Marion didn’t seem to notice. She stood there against him, eyes closed and lips pursed. He turned away from her and headed towards the door. He looked back at the disappointed face she wore and how beautiful she looked wearing his jacket.
“I will be back shortly my dear. Something is wrong.” He left and made his way back down toward the origin of the commotion. He ran quite quickly and reached the ballroom with a flourish in which to announce his presence to everyone within. They were however staring at two people arguing. One was his mother, her face almost matching her dress while the other was a man George has never seen before.
The man arguing with his mother was quite unusual. The kid was probably extremely average-looking with short brown hair and plain features, but that was where the averageness ends. His skin was quite white as if he has not gotten enough sun in years and his outfit made it look even worse. Dark purple suit with a yellow tie and red shirt, the man was dressed to stand out and flourish his extremely horrid fashion sense. His blue shoes were a laughable concept and if not for being slightly shorter than George, he would’ve said the kid was older than he looked. The kid must just be gate-crashing the Fund Raiser.
No one seemed to continue their night until the stranger was dealt with. Even the musician stood staring across the dance floor. George needed to sort out this problem and get back to Marion before the mood left her. However as he approached he heard the words: “Gladiator” from his mother’s mouth and immediately felt like turning around. Sadly he cannot change the direction he is walking anymore for his mother had noticed him and was already opening her mouth for another tongue-lashing.
“Listen here Georgey. I didn’t quite understand why you joined this fighting game, but now it has followed you home. This is unacceptable! You hear me?” George wanted to reply, but she cut him off. “Don’t give me any of your excuses. I want this…” She gave the youth a murderous look. “… thing away from us and the faster you do it, the better.” She spun around quite elegantly and returned to her husband who also seemed a bit worried.
George sighed as his mother reached the other Prince family member and looked at the man who seemed calm and collected. “Mothers huh? They do seem to rub us up the wrong way don’t you think?” He tried sounding less humiliated than he felt.
“I wouldn’t know.” The kid replied quite respectfully, but with a knowing air.
George stared at him quite curiously. “Who are you anyway? My mother mentioned gladiators? You from wRHG?” He adjusted his cuffs.
“Yes. I’m your opponent for tonight!” The reply was quite straight to the point. He clearly seemed to want to showcase his outfit in front of everyone, but his tone suggested something else entirely.
“I need to be informed beforehand via a letter being delivered to me. I have not received such a letter.” The Gentleman pulled at his moustache and was quite aware of all the eyes staring at the pair. ‘Clearly this was some misunderstanding.’ He thought to himself.
The brown-haired kid scratched into his inner pocket of his purple jacket and produced the letter which was clearly signed by the RHG organisation. He handed it to Mr Prince ‘It was a coincidence. Might not even be me he’s been assigned to fight.’ As he read the words he wasn’t sure of it now.
“You are to fight The Gentleman. Meet near the club named; Harrington’s Yarn tonight.”
“I guess you were pranked my good man.” He said as he handed back the card. “I don’t recall having received any letter.” George wasn’t sure what he would do if it was indeed true. ‘Fight him I guess?’
The kid seemed confused, but quickly replied. “I don’t think so. Could you have missed it?” That question was insulting, but it could also be true, because George was indeed busy the whole day organising this event.
Earlier that day, George was sitting in his room at ActaSanctorum working tediously on a few last minute orders for the Fund Raiser. The sun was setting and he needed to get ready for the ball himself. His tuxedo was neatly lying on his bed so he could put it on at a moment’s notice.
His blonde haired team leader walked into the room eating a piece of chocolate. “Hey Mr Prince. Special letter for you from…” George cut him off.
“Not now Mr Gladstone. I am in the middle of finishing up details for tonight’s Fund Raiser. Just leave it on the table over there.” He pointed at a small bedside table that stood to one side.
“I think it’s important.” Seb took another bite of his chocolate. “It says it’s from…”
“LEAVE!” The stress of the moment was far too great for him to care about a letter. Sebastian ran out the room leaving George a moment to quickly get dressed and to rush up to the Prince Mansion.
Thinking back, George realized that it must’ve been the letter of the challenge that Gladstone was trying to give him. Embarrassed, he extended his hand and the kid took it carefully. “I accept this battle.” After a moment he asked. “ Why are you dressed like that?”
The kid gave a smile and said; “It was a fancy party and I needed to make an entrance.” He seemed confident and as if he knows something that he’s not letting on. ‘I have to be careful against this one.’ George thought to himself.
“What is your name?”
“Nhaleet, and you are The Gentleman I suppose?” George nodded. After they shook hands he turned toward the crowd of people watching. His mother was clearly livid and his dad was making attempts at calming her down. The Lady Pearl seemed to be excited for what is to follow while a c