The gasp that had escaped Arabella's mouth reached every ear that stood nearby.
All gray as ash every hair on that man's head was. Dressed in a fully black, perfectly fitted attire… Velour.
The kind of fabric the poor never purchased, not only due to its exorbitant price but because it was quite hard to clean after any sort of filth had latched onto it.
The rich turned to it as a means to flaunt their wealth with the ability to simply acquire more with ease instead of going through the trouble to try and wash it.
He too took his sweet time in stepping down onto the ground, relying heavily on the lavish cane in hand for support.
Sils' diamonds went between his petrified wife and the stranger that neared them ever so slowly.
Although seeing those gemstone green irises of his, shaved most of the mystery away.
It was a relative of the Sterling family. His direct ties to Arabella, however, were yet to be disclosed.
