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London, 1852

The man sitting opposite William put the heavy tumbler on the table. The expensive piece of furniture was conveniently placed next to the richly decorated sofa his companion was almost lying in.

He was dressed in a dark, well-tailored suit which most likely cost William's pay for the entire year.

Double, even.

Judging by his speech, he was someone from the upper classes, yet the nobleman's behavior didn't match his noble origin in the least.

He'd untied his black cravat, spoke of books idly, and didn't seem to be interested in the game they were playing at all. The man hadn't introduced himself when they'd met earlier and he hadn't been accompanied by a servant or another nobleman. William was sure the place they were at wasn't even the man's main house.

This was more like an apartment where the nobleman invited his private guests; it was likely he didn't keep a regular household, as they were just the two of them and he hadn't seen a maid around.

William knew some men from the upper classes had the habit of privately renting a place, where they could invite whomever they pleased, far and free from the class norms their noble origin required them to comply with. "Cigarette? " The nobleman offered and took one out from an intricately crafted box. William saw letters he couldn't recognize written on it and assumed it had probably been imported from God knew where.

"Uhh no, thank you." He looked back at the cards he was holding and tried to find a way to feign indifference to what he was seeing. And that was he had zero winning cards. William had no idea how that was possible. "More whisky, then?"