The silence was disrupted by unsettling laughter.

"I underestimated your intelligence, meddlesome rat." Said Arthur, uncovering a chilling smile. He stood from the bed and cracked his neck. "How did your daughter die?"

Ivan smiled back, matching Arthur's intensity.

"What is it you are implying?"

"You are smart, Braginski, yet, you ask such senseless questions." Kirkland said. "Poor, sweet, child. I bet you cannot even remember her face." His words were bitter. "Murderer."

Braginski scowled, infuriated.

"I bet you enjoyed killing her." Arthur continued. "Deranged FREAK."

"Enough!" Alfred growled, dragging Ivan and the new suit with him out of the room. "Come on, we need to get ready."

In the confines of their bedroom, Jones threw his ruined shirt aside. He swung open the wardrobe searching for decent attire for Ivan to wear.

"Do you believe I murdered Anastasia?" Asked Ivan faintly.

Alfred paused, looking back over his shoulder.

"What? Of course not."

Braginski leaned against the closed door. Anguish and uncertainty depicted on his face.

"I do not remember well." He whispered, shutting his eyes tight. "Everything is blurred. What if it is truth?"

"Hey."

Lightly, Alfred tugged Ivan's empty sleeve.

"You DID NOT murder her." He said with absolute confidence. They gazed deeply into each other's eyes. "You would never do that to someone you love."

Alfred returned to his search, settling on a black suit with a ruffled collar.

"Thank you." Said Ivan, resting his head upon his comrades shoulder.

Taken aback, Jones blushed and smiled sheepishly.

"Did the brat change?"

"Nyet. He refused."

"Great." Rolling his eyes, Alfred slipped Ivan's jacket off the hanger. "You want to change your undershirt? There is a weird one that is embroidered with beads, I think it is suppose to be 'fashionable.'" He said, turning to face him.

With his teeth, Ivan undid the pin that secured his coat. Alfred stared, attention captured by his pale moist lips that held the clasp. Stomach fluttering, he took the object and slowly placed it on the desk.

"Dress me as you wish. I value your opinion much more than my own." Said Ivan.

Alfred removed the man's shirt, replacing it with the one from the closet. It was an off white and the black embellishments were arranged in a flower pattern about the high collar.

"It fits you well." He said, pulling the jacket over his shoulders. "I'm going to pin it at the waist."

"I cannot remove it myself if you secure it there. Do you enjoy undressing me?" Asked Braginski with a devilish grin.

"Ha, ha, shut up." Snorted Alfred, fixing the fabric into place. "There."

He took a step back, reviewing Ivan's outfit. It looked good on him. Alfred undid the garment bag and began to dress in his own attire. The jacket was long and had silver chains linking behind his back to buttons at the shoulders. His suit lapel was covered in a layer of gray lace and the shirt underneath matched in color.

"I look stupid." Said Alfred, defeated.

Ivan chuckled.

"Let us go see the Young Master, Da?"

"You go ahead, I need to check on Kirkland."

"Alright, if you must." Said Braginski, frowning.

He was first to leave the room.

Alfred entered Arthur's quarters without bothering to knock. The intoxicated man was sitting at the vanity. He noticed Jones in the mirror.

"Ah, the beauteous pacifist has returned." Kirkland said, sounding annoyed. "To what do I owe this honor?"

"I came to see if you were alright."

"I am just peachy." He murmured, fastening a pewter brooch to his jacket. It was in the shape of a lion's head and embedded with green gem eyes. "I am running low on secrets for you to pilfer. Sorry to disappoint."

"Your life is sad, you know that?" Alfred sneered. "You are a depressing, alcoholic prick. No wonder your son hates you."

Arthur slammed his hands down as he stood, glaring at the reflection of man behind him.

"What did you say to me?"

"You heard me, selfish asshole. " Exclaimed Alfred. "This is why Braginski can't stand you. GET OVER YOURSELF!"

Slowly, Kirkland lowered himself back into his seat. He said nothing, tending to his untidy hair that seemed never to stay orderly.

"If I was to ask for your help, what would you say?" Asked Arthur, avoiding Alfred's gaze. "Would you bother with an old, broken bloke, like myself?"

"I have nothing better to do." Alfred said with a shrug.

"It may get you killed."

"Not easily." Said Jones with a smirk.

Arthur smiled back, meekly.

"My wife and I were trying to artificial develop the soulless gene for use in medicine. We had nearly obtained our objective, when the manor was set fire and burned to the ground. The Queen had sent her personal escorts to commit the act. I and my son escaped unharmed, however, my wife was not as lucky. Being a soulless, she did not die, but, was cursed with a fate worse than death. The flames had engulfed her entire body. She became a living corpse, bed ridden and in misery." The man bite his lip. "On record, only Toby got out alive. His name was Peter, back then, Alice named him after her father. The Queen is wicked. She has killed countless innocent people for her own selfish desire. Queen Natalia Arlovskaya, needs to die."