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The First Dilemma of Lady Alssyana Grey
Part I

𝓦on't happen again?

	Walter’s smile flickered for just a brief moment as he contemplated what Alyssana had suggested, “Hmm…” 

	He quickly turned his head to the side, as if to make sudden conversation with himself, in the privacy of his own mind: 

		Whatever would Finnegan do?
			Ah, yea. He would distract himself with something or another. A tidbit or whatever is closest.

	After making this assessment, he then spoke aloud, “I don’t know…” his body turned and examined a clear ornament hanging from a mechanical tree fixture, set atop a counter. The light was reflecting through it and making a prism of sorts with the cerulean liquid. His fingers carefully manipulated the glass, as he leaned himself forward. 

	This went on for only several seconds, as he felt like a fool toying with his own personality, especially in front of Alyssana. His hand lowered and began tapping on the wooden table, as if he was playing several keys on a piano, “It is awful that he does such things,” he began, again and slowly turned towards Lady Alyssana. He wished that Finnegan would hurry with the tea order.

	And, Finnegan would have hurried with the tea if he had any suspicions about Lady Alyssana’s vengeance. There were certain things that Finnegan could not sense from her, even after all the years of them knowing each other, and for such a reason, the young man was standing just a little outside the doorway of the kitchen, where his only servant Lance was making small talk.

	Lance was the sort of man who had perpetually thinning blonde hair. Since he was in his later forties, no one referred to him as going bald or balding as that would be rude, even though his status was not quite worthy of such fine etiquette. Whatever the real case rests, it was assumed his hair would be thinning until the day he died. It was also assumed that he would be Finnegan’s manservant until his time of departure, as well.

	But, enough about receding hairlines and  back to Lady Alyssana and Lord Walter, “He did not mean to indulge Miss Evelyn so heavily, Alyssana. I promise you that he was most annoyed with himself already about it. He even mentioned self-sabotaging his own date and that he would have had a much better time…” Walter made a small masking whimsical smile, reflecting back on his own feelings when he was somehow set aside from attending the ball. The whole intricacies of the conversation held between Finnegan and him still made little sense, but in Finnegan’s defense, the younger brother had not even the gumption to get out of bed that day.

He had his reasons for believing in his depression…

	“Very well. It shall not hurt anything if it is destroyed,” his whimsical smile turned into a real smirk, and he felt whole next to Lady Alyssana, “It’s actually right over here,” his arm extended to outwards, motioning towards a cabinet with a glass, see-through display. A bottle, with a pretty gold rose topper plugged inside of it, rested with several other interesting bottles. (Some were decorated, as well; and some were plainer than plain; and some were inbetween)

	Walter took several steps towards the cabinet and tugged on the lavish baroque knob and acted surprised when the cabinet door opened, having not been locked, “I was half-expecting it to be locked,” he eyed Lady Alssana with a slight mischevious nature. He had not felt this feeling with anyone but Finnegan before now, “I suppose he is not so concerned with anyone tampering with it, then,” he pulled the glass container out and quickly handed it to Lady Alyssana, “It’s in your hands, now.” 

	As if to wipe his hands clean, he tucked them into the pockets of his slacks and took a step back from Lady Alyssana. His eyes were still focused on the potion as he tried to hide any guilt. Finnegan was usually a fanatic with trying to keep things orderly and out of reach from anyone but himself. It served him right, though. Walter agreed this time for more than one reas—

	“Not so fast!” Finnegan maneuvered himself around Walter, who stood sturdier than usual, caching Finnegan off-guard, which was the third time today that such a thing had happened. The first being Madame Sophronia’s bodyguards, the second being Lady Alyssana’s cunningingness. He was about to say something like, “Hand it over,” in a stern masculine way, but having expected Walter to be a push-over when he in fact was not being one in this precise moment, caused Finnegan to take several steps too many to catch himself and thus, knocked him right into Lady Alyssana, who being caught off-guard all the same, ended up spilling the potion all over Finnegan.

	Oh, Mercy!
		 Walter’s mouth opened with a sudden sense of horror and dread that spoke,
			 This is all my fault.
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