Seasons had been kicked out with little pomp or ceremony, and he'd found it to be a little bit on the rude side. It didn't matter if Simona had been right about that whole sleep nonsense, or that he had things to get ready. He also didn't care that he didn't feel half-dead this morning as he sat inside the carriage he'd rented.
He'd hired a driver, as well, because he certainly didn't trust himself not to wreck the blasted thing as those damn horses refused to do what he told them. And since Simona wasn't there to put on airs yet he was going to enjoy actually sitting in the monstrosity. It was a comfortable ride, he had to admit that.
They were pulling up to the front of the teahouse, and Seasons checked himself in a mirror he'd found in a box under one of the seats. He was suppose to make himself presentable, he thought he'd done a good job. He'd found a razor and cleaned off his face, combed back and neatened his hair, and even polished the stupid little buttons on the stupid uniform she'd given him. Stupid thing, even if it DID fit him well. That still bothered him that she happened to have one that fit him so.
When the cart came to a stop he'd climb out of the side closer to the teahouse with his a few quick steps and closed the door before marching smartly up towards the teahouse. He'd move with better posture and far smarter steps than he normally would. He may or may not have had practice pretending to be a servant before.