A Bereft Aristocracy – The Naught

“No, I’m sorry sir. That simply won’t do!” Rutherford always made a fuss when getting fitted for a suit, “The cummerbund is too tight and doesn’t match my ascot! It isn’t passable in the slightest! The banquet is tomorrow, and I can assure you that Lady Astonia shan’t pardon me, therefore I shan’t pardon you! Now go into the back and find the perfect fit and match, and if you cannot find it, do not bother returning without a tailor to replace you!” With that, Connor clumsily removed the rather drape-like cummerbund from Rutherford’s vast waistline, and nearly choked him as he ran through the double doors to the back room, the ascot haphazardly and somewhat incompletely untied. Rutherford’s ruddy cheeks matched the cummerbund, but the ascot was a touch darker, more nearly the shade of his double-chin, and looked as if it had grown from one of his skin folds.

A large black cat with one gold eye and one emerald eye walked along the shelves of fabric, strings, needles, and other tailor tools behind Connor’s desk, coming to rest nearly eye-level with Rutherford, pawing a ball of string. It looked up and stared at him as he grimaced in return, his face finally returning to a paler hue of red. They stared at one another for a few more moments until he finally turned to look out the window at the carriages being towed by well-groomed Clydesdales. He had hoped to be in his best state when he finally met Lady Astonia, and imagined what a fit she’d throw if he wasn’t dressed up proper.

Just then, he heard a fuss behind him, and when he turned around…

(continuation found in The Naught. To add to this folding story, please visit A Bereft Aristocracy on reddit)