Magnus had exhausted the offerings of the three-room suite where he was being held. The whole mansion screamed, ‘new money,’ and Magnus would know. He spent his life gatekeeping polite society in an affluent town in the southern part of the American colony of Connecticut.

A maid named Josephine set a plate of crab cake eggs benedict on the mahogany table in Magnus’ sitting room. It smelled so good that Magnus forgot he was supposed to be hunger striking. Another maid named Josephine, the nicer of the Josephines, poured a cocktail and garnished it with a little fruit slice. Magnus moved to sit on the couch, which triggered a series of one-syllable warnings from the staff.

“Sir!” shouted Jesse. “You’re soaked. Let’s get you changed before you catch hypothermia.”

Magnus felt a little dramatic, “Do you really think I could catch hypothermia?”

“Uh, no?” said Jesse.

Jesse accompanied Magnus to his bedroom to change him out his wet clothes. Somebody figured out Magnus’ measurements and furnished his closet with three-piece suits that were more stylish than anything he’d pick out for himself. Like, suits with braided trim. Jackets with engraved buttons. Velvet slippers and silk knit stockings. Magnus’ only critique of his new wardrobe was its palette, which was entirely black. Magnus preferred warm colors to complement his skin tone. This was something he planned to communicate to his captor if he ever met them. 

Jesse undressed Magnus in the middle of the floor. Magnus was tall, evenly muscular, had great eyebrows, and took care of his long brown hair. Even soaking wet and freezing he was still conventionally attractive.

Jesse dropped Magnus’ wet clothing into a pile, “Your dramatic escape ruined an expensive suit. This was just made. Do you have any idea how much it cost?”

Magnus looked at Jesse, “Excuse me? Butlers don’t usually talk like that where I’m from.”

“Get used to it.”

“Whoa! You better show some respect!”

“Says the guy who’s naked,” Jesse brought a robe from the closet. “Wait, why are you crying?”

“Everyone is so mean to me!” Magnus sobbed. 

“Was it something I said?”

Magnus heaved through tears, “I can’t…handle…mean…people…”

“Whoa, I’m sorry! Please stop crying. Here,” Jesse held the robe up

“I can’t!”

“Come on, man. I don’t wanna watch you cry naked.”

Magnus sobbed even louder.

Jesse wrapped the robe around Magnus. “Just put some clothes on.”

Magnus took a deep breath, “Everything is hard!”

“It’s gonna be okay, buddy,” Jesse helped Magnus put his arms through the sleeves. He tied the robe closed with the sash, “I’m not ready to deal with a crying naked man right now. Better?”

Magnus sniffled. The robe felt like clouds wrapped in cotton candy, “A little better.”

“You wanna sit down and I can put your stockings on?” asked Jesse.

Magnus sat on the bench at the foot of the bed. He held out his bare leg for Jesse.

“Great. After this, you can have breakfast,” Jesse rolled a stocking up Magnus’ leg. The ankle was embroidered with a geometric motif. It was nice in an excessive way.

The stockings were too nice to walk around barefoot, so  Jesse looked around for slippers. He found Magnus’ shoes in his wet pile of clothing, “Well, these are shot.”

“Can’t you just clean them, or whatever?” asked Magnus. 

“No, they’ve fallen apart. I think there are a spare pair in your closet, let me check,” Jesse returned with a pair of black beaded slippers even more magnificent than the ones Magnus just ruined.

Magnus admired the way they looked on his feet, “Why does my kidnapper have all these clothes in my size?”

“I’m not supposed to talk about this with you,” said Jesse. 

“You people just bought suits in my size? Or am I wearing someone else’s clothes?” asked Magnus. 

Jesse held his hands up, “All I can tell you…”

“Tell me the truth!”

“They’re not someone else’s clothes,” said Jesse. 

Magnus groaned, “This doesn’t make any sense. Who buys clothes for their captive?”

“You want me to tie your wet hair up?” Jesse secured a fabric turban around Magnus’ head so he wouldn’t catch cold. He looked completely ridiculous.

Back in the sitting room, the maids set up breakfast and got a fire going. Magnus tore into his eggs. He was so deep in breakfast that he missed the sound of his bedroom door opening. 

A deep masculine voice ordered: “Everyone out.”

“Sir,” Jesse closed the door behind himself. 

Unfamiliar heels clicked across the suite. The stranger stood in front of Magnus and waited for a dramatic reveal. Magnus finally looked up from his eggs.