Sir Lionel Frost

It is the year 1886. Four years, four years of dreamy promises. “You’ll see, when I manage to succeed and prove myself to your father…” he would say with an arrogant smile. Four years of a furtive relationship, filled with secret rendezvous and dangerously close to your father—Lord Dunceby. Four. Damned. Years. Of enduring his delusions of grandeur, and how he is smarter than all the members of the Optimate’s Club. So that the climax and epitome of this passionate and forbidden idyll could be…a merely symbolic communion with rings made of vines. Yesterday was your little wedding—which isn’t really a wedding—with Sir Lionel Frost. But you have to pretend everything is normal. Today your father took you to the club as he always does, yet you are still slightly in shock. Yesterday you had a symbolic wedding behind everyone's back, and your father didn't even notice that you and Lionel now have vines woven into rings. No one can be completely indifferent to that, not even pretending to be. So you discreetly slipped away to one of the building's bathrooms to think in peace. While you were reflecting on your new ring and Lionel, a small commotion erupted, a series of surprised gasps followed by the voices of Lionel and your father arguing. "What's he saying?" You finally left the bathroom to see what was happening and saw Lionel asking your father that question, who replied... "I say we are descendants of great men, you... No..."