It was another sad day in the Schmancy manor for the woeful Lady Bolita. Within a day of the catastrophic tea party, word had reached the duke of just how abysmal it was, and he had all but turned into a fire breathing dragon of rage.
"I should have known a walking chamber pot like you would have accomplished nothing," he had snarled. "Leave at once."
Bolita was then promptly ejected from his study, where he had stared her down with a gaze colder than the chilly river she had drowned in for three hours, and she later received word from a maid that she was forbidden from showing her face before him unless he demanded it. Even though he wasn't her real dad, and she certainly didn't plan on treating him like her dad, Bolita's feelings were still a little hurt.
Now she was moping in the library, laying on her favorite couch with both feet on an arm rest. It was a position most unbecoming for a lady, but she could care less. Why, she would've become a potato if she could, but as she was unable to harness the power of transformation, simply being a couch potato would have to suffice.
Her usual maid was with her, standing beside the couch, but not too close, looking not unlike a certain English World Heritage site as always.
"My Lady, all this moping is not good for you," said the maid.
As far as Bolita could recall, this was the most personal the maid had gotten with her. She suddenly realized she had no idea what the maid's name was, despite the maid being the one who typically accompanied her. She didn't know who she could turn to and ask this time, and she certainly didn't have the guts to ask the maid. Bolita felt like that would be kind of rude.
"Some days are just meant for moping," Bolita replied at last, though her mind was more focused on other, more pressing matters.
"Perhaps you are in need of an excursion? It is a lovely day today, and fresh air does a body good. Not to mention you're in need of a new dress after the tea party incident."
"Hmm, you know what, I think that might be nice. Going out for some fresh air and a dress sounds like a plan. Where would we go though?"
"I assumed that My Lady would be visiting the town, as per usual."
"The town? Yes, the town. That's right, the town. The town that's a town. It is certainly a town that I can go to town at. Wonder why I didn't think of that myself."
"Yes, of course, My Lady."
"Is it too late to go?"
"We can leave whenever you are ready, My Lady."
Bolita pulled herself up on the couch, and felt a few things pop in her back while she did so. Feeling marginally less mopey, she left the library and headed toward her quarters where she could pick out an outfit more appropriate for the occasion than the one she was wearing at the moment. Bolita was sure she had to have at least something that would let her blend in with the peasantry.
"Are you headed somewhere, My Lady?" The deep voice came not from her maid, but from Alfred who had appeared behind her sometime during her walk to her room.
"Ah yes, I was planning to visit town."
"Please allow me to accompany you then, My Lady. The town can be dangerous to explore alone."
Bolita privately wondered what exactly Alfred would be able to do should something happen. He wasn't exactly a wall of muscle and Bolita had no clue how good he was with weapons, but she didn't want to hurt his feelings by asking.
"Oh, sure, if you'd like? My maid, I think, will also be with us."
"Oh don't mind me, My Lady," responded Bolita's maid, who had followed her faithfully from the library. "I trust in Alfred's ability to protect you. He would not tarnish the reputation of our staff by letting anything happen to you. I can rest assured knowing you are in his hands. Besides, I can always just walk a few steps further behind."
"You flatter me, Marie," grinned Alfred.
Bolita felt thankful to Alfred for unknowingly exposing such useful information.
"The Lady just needs to finish getting ready, but I will alert you when she is ready to head out."
Bolita could have sworn she saw Marie wink at Alfred as the maid walked Bolita to her room, but from what she knew of Marie so far, that seemed highly, highly unlikely. It was probably just her imagination making Marie seem more human than rock for a fraction of a second.
There was a closet in Bolita's room that housed even more clothes on top of the ones stashed in the manor's various rooms, and those clothes were of the less extravagant variety, just as she had hoped.
"Cloak, hmm, there's got to be one of them around here somewhere," mumbled Bolita to herself as she sifted through the clothing.
With a little more digging, Bolita was able to find a cloak that did not look like something a super shady individual lurking in a dark alley at night would wear.
"Now for a dress. I need a dress that can afford to get dirty. Ah, why does the duchess have so many nice clothes. Just the thought of getting any of them dirty… what a horrible thought. Argh they're so finely made and have such pretty patterns and fabric, and I'm going to cry they're just so beautiful."
Bolita pulled at a shiny ringlet in distress. In her past life the struggle had been to afford the nice dresses, so she'd never expect to have to struggle picking a nice dress to wear. After much thinking and pulling that one ringlet so much she had practically straightened it, Bolita decided on a relatively simple beige dress with a minimal amount of embellishments.
"Just peasant enough," Bolita declared, although the dress she was holding could have supported a peasant family for at least a year. The curl she had been tugging at was at last freed from the prison of her grasp and immediately bounced back to hit her in the face. It was a feeling quite like that of being hit in the face with a rubber band after releasing it in the wrong direction. Bolita patted her wounded cheek, before mentally taking note to exercise more caution when it came to her drills in the future.
Then, not wasting any further time because she wanted to hit town before the sun had set, Bolita shimmied into her new gear and stepped out to where Marie and Alfred were waiting for her.
"Are you ready to go, My Lady?" asked Alfred.
"Yes."
"A carriage has been prepared, My Lady," informed Marie.
"Oh, that was fast!"
The carriage that had been readied was different from the one Bolita had taken to the princess's tea party. It was a simpler ride of black with gold trim and the Schmancy crest. Though it wasn't her first carriage ride, Bolita was still excited to get in. There was just something about being all dolled up in an equally as lavish box that pleased her to no end.
What she had forgotten to take into account was Alfred. Bolita had gone to the tea party alone at her insistence, so she got to hang out with her thoughts and it wasn't awkward at all. But now that there was a butler she was supposed to be all buddy-buddy with, she doubted the ride would be nearly as enjoyable.
"My Lady, if you please," Alfred bowed spectacularly low, almost scraping the floor with his monocle.
"Oh, uh sure," Bolita made to grab at the hand he seemed to be offering to assist her on the carriage, but promptly missed, as Alfred descended into tabletop position to act as a stepping stool.
Bolita had never been one to step on other people, in fact, she was quite the doormat herself, always giving in first when she tried to bargain, and she wasn't about to start now.
"My Lady?" Both Alfred and the maid watched her curiously, as if she was the one being strange.
"Aren't you going to get on the carriage?" the maid prompted her.
"Uh, right," Bolita swallowed nervously before hoisting up her hefty skirts and clambering on the carriage, making a point to avoid Alfred, who was on his back like a flipped turtle.
When they were both in the carriage and the ride to town had begun, the silence couldn't have been any heavier. Really, a neutron star would have been lighter. Bolita had no idea where to start a conversation, and she was ninety percent sure Alfred was waiting for her to begin one.
"I'm looking forward to buying another dress," forced out Bolita. She had taken a wild guess and assumed the Bolita of old liked talking about dresses. She'd made her calculations based on the fact the duchess had dresses upon dresses, so surely that meant she was very into shopping?
"You've always been fond of shopping," replied Alfred.
"Oh yes, nothing to brighten up a day like dress shopping. And shopping in general I guess."
"Are you alright, My Lady?"
"Pardon?"
"I've just noticed you've been acting a touch odd lately…" Alfred turned his head dramatically to the side, his monocle chain catching on an ear. "Forgive me, I was being presumptuous. I am sure you must be under a lot of pressure because of the duke. Please take care of yourself, My Lady."
Now on top of feeling awkward, Bolita was panicked.
"Ah yes, the pressure. The duke has certainly been dealing that out. Thank you for your concern, uh, Alfred."
Before the conversation could fall any further down the pits of disaster, the carriage arrived at its destination. The town they had stopped at was the largest town in the dukedom and home to a lively and respectable hub of merchants. In her old life, Bolita had been a shopaholic with no money, and now that she had landed in what was basically the predecessor to a modern shopping district loaded with cash, she was raring to go.