Bridgerton Miscellaneous Thread

[Kristi]

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Azucena and Harrison ‘engagement’

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Harrison, at the age of 22, has established himself as a man of responsibility. A year had gone since his return from boarding school, and the weight of his newfound responsibilities as an earl pressed like the pages of an ancient tome upon him. The attraction of travel called, a siren’s call he wanted to answer, yet reality bound him to his estate like ivy to the walls of his family house. With a sigh, he sent a loyal servant to travel on his behalf, bringing back fascinating tales of distant locations for him to immerse himself in through the ink strokes of another’s quill.

Harrison’s dedication to his duty became a mantle of heavy brocade, a garment that seemed to envelop him more fully than his own flesh, when he accepted his job as an earl at the early age of 22. The engrossed countenance that wrapped her kid, hiding him from her gaze, was recognized by his mother’s acute eyes. The loss of his presence hurt her severely, as if he had become an apparition within the hallways of Davis Manor.

And so, with the wisdom of a concerned mother, she set her sights on a potential match for her son- The Marquis Osuna’s daughter, Azucena. At first, Harrison had thought of her as unremarkable- she had a pretty face but she was just like any lady in the ton, without opinions of her own, and without any real hobbies of her own so he was reluctant till he actually got to know her.

Azucena was truly a remarkable lady indeed, her pursuit for poetry captivated him, but not in a romantic sense but more of pure curiosity. He was curious to see how far she could go with her poetry and passion and was very disappointed to find out it was not very far. She was hesitant, he could tell but he wanted to help her, he needed to help her whether it be a heroic complex he had or just because he had a thing for beauty- the arts, but he had to help her and nonetheless he courted her as his mother had wished.

Throughout the courting, Harrison found himself captivated by her presence, even if the captivation was not adorned with romantic red roses but more of flowers that bloomed friendship. Courting her provided a glimpse of another world, perhaps because even with him debuting since he was 20, he was the first lady he had ever actually officially courted to say the least and like many people Harrison was a curious man with a curious mother and thus he wanted to see how it was.

Though with Harrison not having any real romantic feelings for her and yet still being captivated by her face and personality, he wanted to kiss her. See how it felt to kiss the person he was courting, and whether it would raise any romantic affections in him.

But he remembered his mother’s words- Azucena should be different than all the ladies he had unofficially been with, and it was funnier to tease her than to think of her in such a way- Azucena was a sweet girl so when he had to had to break off the engagement- a mutual break up, Azucena and him were not as perfect as a match as his mother thought and Azucena knew that, so when they had to break the engagement, he felt a sense of remorse as he stood before her, his gaze steady and his words gentle. “Azucena,” he murmured, his voice a silken thread woven through the tapestry of the moment, “our paths may diverge, but know this - my friendship and support will never cease to be there for you.” Even if we both take different paths, you will always find a dependable friend in me."

Though with the engagement break off that was quite the talk of the ton for a while- the ton seemed to not have much business of their own to mind and especially since Azucena’s next season went unsuccessfully and Harrison did not court anyone again, they were still on favorable terms with each other.

But the question is why did they truly both decide it was best to break it off and neither held a grudge towards it, the answer was simple- they were just civilized people of intelligence.

“Brother, out of all the women you have been with, have you loved any of them truly, who was more favorable in your eyes?” Leonarda his youngest kin had asked,

“What a strange question. Why do you ask?”

“I want to know what love feels like.” Harrison chuckled at that,

“You’re too young for that but when I find out, I’ll tell you.” He ruffled her hair, “But everyone is favorable compared to the other to some degree.”

“How so?”

“Get me a glass of wine and perhaps I might tell you.” Leonarda rolled her eyes.

“You are unamusing ” His sister said before she stormed out and Harrison looked taken aback, now what did do?

His sister reappeared, a slender glass of water clutched delicately in her hand, her face with a frown… Harrison arched an eyebrow, his amusement evident as curled his lips. “Might you be attempting to perform a miracle, my dear sister?” he quipped, a playful glint in his eyes, “Turning water into wine, akin to the miracles of Jesus?”

“Reid finished the wine,” Leonarda confessed, making Harrison tumble.

“My wine?” “That young lad managed to consume my cherished wine?” Harrison’s voice was filled with amazement, his visage a mix of incredulity and mild wrath. Blast it all, who thinks that cheeky little rascal is? I wasn’t stealing my elder brother’s booze at his age!"

“That’s because you’re the oldest Harrison.”

“Oldest or not, that does not matter, maybe I shall send him to boarding school, he’s 19 after all.”

“Mother won’t allow that, now tell me Harry, do you want to fall in love?”

Harrison paused as he stared at his 12 year old sister, a hand under his chin, “Why would I not? After all, I find the aesthetic of love very, how do I say this- eye catching. I am very obsessive in nature and I want someone who will consume my mind, love is very terrifying and beauty is too and so the aesthetic of falling in love, losing control pleases me.”

Leonarda blinked, “I did not understand anything you said, but ok. Will you marry for love then?”

“Yes and all of you in this house will too.”

Leonardo tilted her head, “I still don’t understand why you like the idea of losing control badly.”

“I don’t have a deep yearning for it, to be quite honest, but there’s an undeniable allure in its elegance. The concept of a love that consumes me entirely intrigues me, a passion so intense that it borders on obsession. If it doesn’t set me ablaze, my dearest sister, then I find myself disinterested. Now, do oblige and summon Reid to our company.”

“You’re truly vexed,” she noted, a hint of amusement lacing her words.

“Perhaps I am, perhaps I’m not,” he mused with a nonchalant shrug.

“You know, it’s rather astounding to fathom that you, of all people, are the head of our family,” she remarked, a laugh escaping her as she saw his reaction, his hand instinctively pressing against his stomach.

“Honestly, I find it quite amusing as well,” Harrison admitted, chuckling softly, “Mother, without a doubt, wields more influence over the family than I do. At present, I’m merely the designated earl. But if not me or mother, then who else shall don the mantle of the family’s leadership?”

“Me.” Leonarda said confidently, causing Harrison to almost choke on the water he was drinking with a smile. “I will leave all the paperwork to you, you will be my servant but I will be the head of the house by everything else and the earl.”

“That’s a very interesting mindset you have,” Harrison said amused, “What if I cause a revolt?”

“You won’t.”

“Why won’t I?”

“Because I’m the youngest and you love me.” Harrison arched a brow at that and Leonarda rolled her eyes, “You know you love me, I am the sibling you love the most.”

“You are the sibling who is filled with the most delusion.” Leonarda pouted, quivering her lips and Harrison playfully covered his eyes, making Leonarda remove his hands from his eyes. Harrison laughed, “Fine fine fine you are my favorite sibling, do not tell the others.”

“I’m going to tell them.” Leonarda said as she ran out of the room as Harrison shook his head with laughter. How cute, he definitely wanted a child of his own.

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@raviola - Azucena mentioned

[raviola]

Azucena: The Engagement

Diary Entry #304

If this were to be a monologue of joy, and a love that lasted, the opening line would be a metaphor. The words would flow like freshly bought honey onto freshly baked bread. However they slow, and they quiver, like tea from the pot of a fearful servant. I have come so close to it, running after the horizon in all of it’s color as I felt the grass under my feet pull me closer to the fine line setting me into the daylight.

But when I reach the rising sun, the earth stops, and the stars shine below me under the plane I believed to be a hopeful sphere, an orb of light discovered by science perpetuating us into a bright future. However, that three dimensional star, so close to reaching its potential did not exist. Instead, I could only reach the corner of the square, rigid and disappointing. My theories have been dough-rolled, reducing me to be cut into perfectly shaped cookies for someone else to enjoy. And it is because of you.

Harrison sat at the dining table with me, on the opposite head. Both appearing powerful, but lacking the strength to come close. He has read my poems, but he has not immersed himself into the meaning of my words. A jumbled mess they appeared, comparing myself to moonlight in a world always waiting for tomorrow. He was a stronghold, a fortress of negotiation and alliance. I was a wishing well, watching his soldiers take buckets of water without noticing the stardust blended into it. We were convenient appliances, playing pieces who seemed harmonious in our parents’ game. Drink from my waters, I’ll turn your fort into a home. Never throw in a coin, never wait for benefits not written on the contract. Was I not intriguing enough to make a wish on?

We smile apathetically, no words to exchange between our chapped lips. I pick a fork at my meal, at a loss for an appetite. “Azucena.” He says. “Yes?” I reply, encouragedly taking a bite out of my food as I prepare to listen. “I apologize, but I do not believe this compromise to be fruitful.” I dropped my fork, the metal clanking on the table before resting down on the floor, sinking with the memories and visions she was stitching in her mind.

I walked down the aisle in a white dress, I stepped before him as we shared vows we had grown to mean, doves soared, and people cheered as flower petals flew over them. Our many children played in the fields together, picking dandelions to give one another, telling us that they didn’t want to go home when it was time to go because they loved it so much. I walked into our piano room to watch him compose, sitting on the bench beside him as he sung me the melody he played. That vision was timeless, he lived in it now, and when his hair grayed, back when he was a boy too. In all of the pictures, I was beside him.

This entry did not start with one, but it will end with a metaphor. Our love was a house, we constructed it from the ground. We laid out the blueprint, nailed the wood together, paved the bricks, it seemed complete. But you moved out before we could finish it’s construction, Harrison. And I resent you for it. So now I sit on the floor, breathing in the scent of potential woven into each piece of oak.

I understand your reasons, I did not like you when I met you. My conversation was small, and my joy was fake enough for you to notice. You were everything I was supposed to love, and I despised that truth. I hated your discipline, and your image, I hated how happy you made the enemies I keep close. When you stepped toward me, my feet tugged me back from you, the sheer symbol for everything I stood against. If I let your figure close enough to mine, I would lose my balance and fall for you. Just like I was intended to. Just like I did not want to.

Your presence was a weight on my chest, but it took my breath away, and when I noticed you start to leave I wished you’d come back. I yearned to fight for you, but I respected myself too much to let you in. So when you tell me you wish to be set free, I will be your well. Your desires are my duty, and so you may leave. Perhaps one day I will succumb to the pressure and reel you back in, perhaps one day you will understand me like I tried to make you. Until then, it is best we stay civil, even if I dread it.

“Of course.” I feigned a sympathetic smile. “We may not be married, but that does not imply you are my enemy. I have the same respect for you, my lord. If you ever need someone to confide in, any favor, come to me.” I clasped his hand, my kind eyes sincere when I saw his eyes meet mine.

@Kristi harrison mentioned

[LunaticLeviTheSecond]

Selewyn manor, 1768
“The arrangement” :

Selewyn manor stayed the same mostly the same as when Harold bought it, and when he married, he and his wife made no changes but they did fix it up a lot. The wood would’ve rotten and the walls would’ve cracked hadn’t they fixed it, and they even brought out some Jacobean era furniture that was catching dust in the attic and placed it in Harold’s study room. One of his “souvenirs” from his time serving against Jacobites was placed in the room. It was more like Harold was paying tribute to the few Jacobites he killed, knowing they aren’t his enemies because they found themselves on the other side of the battle, and he didn’t see them as evil people just becasue they’re Scottish.

Casimir was sitting down on a Jacobean couch in this very room, looking out of the window. It was his favorite room since he was a child because the furniture somehow looked like it fit with the rest of the house, whereas the furniture in other rooms was too new to fit with the way the house looked. The furniture never cluttered with the house, but in this study everything just fit together more than in any of the other rooms.

Mr and Mrs. Brantley’s footsteps were approaching the study and suddenly stopped as the door was reached. Silently, you could hear Harold’s words through the door “I believe we’ll find him in here, he’s always in here.” and he followed his words with three soft knocks on the door.

“Come in” Said Casimir.

Harold and his wife entered and settled on the chairs. “Casimir, my boy, we’ve got news for you.”
“What is it?” Asked Casimir, wondering why his parents seemed happy and couldn’t wait for them to share the good news.
“Remeber how you said if you weren’t wed by your 18th birthday, and we needed an heir, you’d allow us to find you a wife.”
Suddenly Casimir didn’t feel like smiling as he realized his whole life could change with the wrong wife. When he made that promise to his parents he believed by the age of 18 he would be more serious and act more adult and mature. He thought by the time he would be 18 he’d be more serious about his heritage and inheritance. He never felt pressured by his mother or father, but his grandfathers pressured him greatly, and he wanted to postpone it as long as he could … He promised them he would court whichever woman they find for him, and he would keep this promise, but he also didn’t want to decieve his parents and grandparents by courting withouth the intent to propose marriage to the woman sometime. He did court before, but it wasn’t serious, and there was no love in it, it was more out of curiosity and pressure that they ever courted, and neither ever wanted marriage.
Casimir sighed, but assured himself that though his grandparents might pick somebody in the interest of the inheritance or title, his parents would make sure for the woman to be acceptable to him, as in, him being able to respect and maybe love her.
“What is her name?” He asked, hoping he heard of her before. That way he could know what kind of person he is being set up with.
“She is the middle child, second daughter to a gentleman of our acquintance, Mr. Alvarez. Her name is Beatrice.” Said the mother, gleaming with joy that her son is considering keeping his promise. “Should I arrange a meeting with the family?” She asked, to which Casimir answered with a less than enthusiastic nod to her.
The mother leaving allowed Harold to express his feelings on the matter. “Your mother is happy to have found somebody she thinks you will like. I hope you can forgive me for not beeing braver in my youth whenI first met your mother … If I hadn’t complied so easily to a certain request this wouldn’t be neccessary.”
“Father … Don’t say that. If you hadn’t complied there is a possibility you never would’ve married mother. Don’t regret the past when it brought you more than the other possibility could’ve.” Casimir stood up from his chair. “If you’ll excuse me father, I’ll take a walk … I have a lot to consider.” To which his father replied with “Would you also be so kind as to consider being civil and courteous with lady Beatrice?” Casimir nodded and said he would, before saying goodbye to his father and leaving.

[LunaticLeviTheSecond]

Harold’s cabin in the woods, 1748
Pt. 2. of the love story

It has been a week since Harold and Florence met and both of them keep thinking about the interacion they had that followed the decision to walk off together towards his cabin. Harold was sitting on the bed in the morning, watching out of the window towards the infamous creek. He recalls how he was so deep in conversation with Florence that he almost forgot about the creek and she almost feel victim to it. Thankfully Harolld grabbed her by the arm when he realized she lost her balance. Suddenly they were in an embrace. Having not known eachother yet, they felt the embrace was awkward so the pulled away as quickly as they could and Florence felt embarrased she almost fell. Once he saw her become red in the face Harold knew she wasn’t blushing because of the embrace, but because she felt stupid for not noticing it and reacting accordingly or swiftly enough to avoid it. In order to make her feel less embarrased about it he tried to comfort her.
“I wish I had the same abillity to hide and stay hidden like this creek does. Would’ve done me well in the service.” He chuckled and she smiled, feeling a bit relieved.
“When I first walked through this land I actually did fall in the creek and it soaked the back of my pants. It looked like I didn’t know how to use the privy.” The way he said it made her laugh.
He softly took hold of her and said “Try not to laugh so hard, we’re so close to the edge we might fall in.” Smiling away, she nodded, and withouth a word the walked to a safer path.

“I wonder why you don’t know about the creek since it’s right outside your land.”
“Well in order to get to what is now your estate, I wouldn’t exactly jump the fence like we did just now. I’d enter at the entrance of the house. Why are you buying your house so close to yours?”
“Oh I didn’t get the house, I’ve only earned the land. I suppose I could build something on this land, but I find your home more charming. It reminds me of a home I used to admire. It was a lot more humble than your manor, but somehow your very big manor gives me the feeling the humble house of my father’s employers used to give me.”
Florence was confused by this. “You were allowed into the home of your father’s employer? On more than one occasion?”
“Yes … My father’s employer had but one son, and they were cut off from society. When I was young it was my job to entertain the young boy and not make him feel as lonely. The family made me feel as if I was part of their family as well. I was lucky enough to know the love of two father, two mother and a brother due to it.”
“That sounds like a perfect childhood.”
“What can I say but agree with you. It was a perfect childhood. I actually have the family to thank for my wealth now. See, when I was young they would host card games. It would be for a few shillings or less than that. In order to teach us how to properly use our money, and basic mathematics, the family would give us a montly amount of money, and then we would have to gamble with the family. It’s because of these early lessons I could outplay your neighbor and win all this.” He gestured to the woods. It doesn’t look like much, but it’s still land, and land earns money.
“Good for you, Mr. Brantley, to give credit where credit is due.” She smiled as she placed her hand underneath his, telling him she trust him enough to link her hand with his.
For a few seconds nobody uttered a word, only the crinkling of their footsteps on the leaves and the grass could be heard. To avoid awkward silence, Harold mentioned the creek.
“I was hoping to build a bridge over the creek so nobody could fall so easily in it, but half of it is on your land.” He said.
“What stopped you?”
“I realized half of it is on your land and I couldn’t start building something withouth the permission of your father. Then I also realized I probably shouldn’t walk over the creek since it leads to the back of your family house and that would surely stirr gossip.” They chuckled.
“Well, if I had the authority, I’d allow it.” She smiled, knowing that statement is true. “We could build one together?” She joked. She never did manual labor in her life and to a rich landowner this would also be a joke, but Harold didn’t see it like that. No, he took it seriously.
“I would take you up on that offer, Miss, but considering you’re selling the house, I fear it might be taken down if the new owner is somebody other than myself … Which mostly likely will happen.”
“Why do you think that?” She asked as they reached the cabin. She stopped in front of him until he answered the question.
“It is your father’s decision? I could tell he didn’t like me. I knew those rumors would cause me to not be able to buy the house, but no matter, I still have this land here to build mine.” She turned around to look at a small cabin around barren land.
“You haven’t started to build anything.”
“Yes, I still left a little bit of hope towards buying your house, and I was postponing the build until I actually have to.”
Harold and Florence stood outside the cabin not knowing what to do next.
Suddenly she spoke “Will you not invite me in?” She asked.
“What unchaperoned?” He asked, suddenly coming into his head they were alone surrounded by a thich patch of trees, with too much privacy for your, unmarried teenagers.
"Well … " His words made her realize it too, except it felt more dreadful to her, being a woman.
He realized she must feel unnerved and wanted to make her feel comfortable in his presence. He turned his head towards her house and said. “Look Miss Cropper. I can make out your manor from the clearing in the trees.” He noted. She looked over and he noted. “I bet if you ran fast you could reach it in under a minute.” Which statement she mocked. “No you couldn’t.”
“I could.”
“Well I know you could. In trousers. But I couldn’t, in this wide dress and those shoes that make my feet ache even when resting.”
“Forgive me. I should’ve realized you’re limited by your fashion.”
While she was calculating how long it would take her to run over it wearing her dress and heels and corset, Harold was thiking hard.
“Miss. Cropper?”
“Hmm?”
“Have you heard of a the game of hand-in-cap?”
“How could I not, I’ve played it once.”
“Then you know what it’s about?”
“Of course, it’s about making two items equal, if one is of a lower value either it’s value is increased or the value of the other item is decreased so it’s an equal trade.” Harold smiled.
“Then you understand what I’m proposing.” She realized what he meant, and couldn’t stop a smile from spreading on her face. He entered his cabin withouth a word and came out shortly after with male shoes with a heel and clean bandages. She smiled and asked “What is this supposed to repressent.”
“Well, the heels, which are apparently also popular with men, are meant to slow me down just as yours do, and the bandages that would restrict my breathing just as your undergarments do.” She laughed at his idea.
She laughed. “Are you laughing at me?” He asked, not offended, on the verge of laughing with her.
“Oh yes. I’ve never met a man who would so decidedly put themself in a bandage corset. I must tell you though, I’m not wearing a corset.” She made it sound dirty deliberately to get a reaction out of him, which she was given as his eyes went wide with realization.
“I’m wearing stays.” He laughed at her final reveal.
“Well it’s the same, isn’t it?”
“A bit less restrictive.”
“I was afraid my bandages might be less restrictive than a corset would be, never wearing one myself, so I’m glad you told me.” He opened the door to his cabin. “Would you be so kind as to allow me a bit of privacy while I put these bandages on?” She nodded.
When he walked out in shiny, blue, fancy heeled shoes she laughed at the notion of wearing it outdoors in such circumstances. It was unusual and that’s what made it funny.
They started the race and within a minute they reached the broken bit of fence and jumped over it. Harold was heading towards the place they came from, but she stopped him, saying “Harold, no! Over here.” She changed her course and he followed until they reached the servants entrance. She was the first to reach it and proudly shouted.
“Heh I win!” She put her arms up in victory while he smiled proudly at her. She then softly hit his shoulder, which was more like a nudge.
“What was that for?” He asked.
“You let me win.” She noticed.
“Now how could you figure that out?”
“Are you telling me that if I had male garments, I, a woman who hasn’t exercised a day in her life except just now, would outrun a soldier whose been training hard for days?”
“That’s where you’re wrong Miss. In the army I made myself a promise not to run faster than anybody, because I didn’t want to leave anybody behind. I didn’t intend to break the promise now.”
She blushed again, but this time she wasn’t embarrased. Again they were silent, but this time it wasn’t awkward and they enjoyed the silence. Underneath the arch of the door they were standing, breathing heavily from running so fast while gazing into each other’s eyes. Even though they weren’t in any embrace and they didn’t touch each other, like that did acidentally in the woods, their pierced each other with their gaze, which felt more private and sensual than anything that happened before. Who knows if they would’ve embraced each other had it not been for the maid who oppened the door. When this happened they were both flustered and with a rushed goodbye she escaped inside, while he trotted off towards his cabin.

@Kristi - I know you’re interested in their story
Hope you like it

[DandelionKate]

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Blackwood Manor
November 15th, 1806
Corin’s 17th Birthday

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“Mind your fingers, dear.” Marie, Corin’s mother, said as she helped Sebastian place an assortment of macarons atop the hearth.

The three of them had spent all afternoon baking treats for Corin’s seventeenth year celebration. This year was going to be slightly different. Although the Blackwoods typically celebrated Corin’s birth with large masses of food and drink in the chilly comfort of the outdoors, this year, the weather had crashed their usual garden party. Outside, the grounds of Blackwood Manor had been covered in a thin sheet of snow, and their small pond down the center courtyard had frozen over entirely.

So, they decided to pile their grand salon high with all sorts of international provisions and sweets. In early years, Corin became fascinated by the foreign lands scattered across his father’s desk and the remote locations mounted on the walls of his study. He would watch his father chart trade routes and build world maps from scratch for hours on end. Eventually, a blank map sheet was bestowed upon Corin, initiating his independent voyage into mapcraft.

As a child, he would sketch maps for the garden, listing every creature’s habitat as a new land and marking their travels across the ‘kingdoms’. As he grew older, his father began showing him the in’s and out’s of their trade business and how to map trade routes efficiently.

This year’s present was a testimony to Corin’s cartographical prowess. Corin and his father spent hours building a world map of sufficient demension to cover the floor of the grand salon. Over the months, his father imported rare and unheard of delicacies hailing from each realm etched upon their chart. For his birthday this year, Corin would get to taste the world.

“Come, dears, the salon is almost set with provisions. Let us allow Pierre to finish his work in peace.” Marie said, ushering her boys out of the kitchens and toward the grand salon.

The three of them swung open the doors to see a large map covering the wood floors underneath, and foods piled high on trays in each of the locations marked along a winding red ink trail. Sebastian squealed with delight and ran over to the first country on the food tour, France.

“Look, mama, our manor is first!” Sebastian said, using his finger to liberate the cream atop a lemon cake that sat upon the outskirts of Paris.

“Don’t touch, Sebastian. We must wait for your father. Sit.” She said, pulling the cushions on the side for the boys to sit on as they stared at the food in front of them.

“I think Pierre’s outdone himself this year.” Corin said, smiling excitedly at the array of treats. “I’ve never seen such an assortment.” He slowly reached toward the lemon cream as well only to have his hand swatted away by his mother.

“It was not Pierre, but your father, that arranged this. Be sure to thank him once he arrives.” Marie gave a stern stare and sat next to the boys just as the grand salon doors swung open. Seung-Jae walked in looking more disheveled than usual. A peculiar restlessness briefly clouded his demeanor, yet he promptly dispelled it upon entering and witnessing his sons’ smiles.

“Appa!” Sebastian cried, bounding into his father’s embrace. Seung-Jae laughed, twirling him in joyful circles.

“Now this is a celebration indeed!” Seung-Jae gestured to the trays. “Why are we not eating? Come!” Seung-Jae sat Sebastian back on his cushion and joined his wife on the floor.

“Why is it arranged in this pattern though, Appa?” Corin asked, his gaze drifting to the lines that traversed each country upon the map.

“This delineates our trade route,” Seung-Jae began. “Your present spans beyond mere confections, Corin. One day, you will govern these routes and all of the goods that pass through them. However, testing your product is one of the benefits of trade.” Seung-Jae smirked as he, too, extracted cream from the lemon cake. Marie chided her husband’s manners, yet found herself unable to suppress a smile at the likenesses her sons shared to him.

“Yes, decades from now maybe…” Corin rolled his eyes as he began to tuck into the treats laid out in the French section. The notion of assuming command over such an extensive enterprise appeared not only daunting, but highly unlikely, as his father was more than particular about how the business was run.

A look of pained irritation crossed Seung-Jae’s face only briefly. Long enough, however, for his wife to glean there was news he was not sharing.

“Boys, why don’t we finish these treats later? I should think you’d like to play in the snow before the sun sets. Run along.” Marie said, her eyes fixed on her husband’s dark expression.

Corin parted his lips to protest, but his mother quickly pushed both him and Sebastian toward the doors without another word. Confused, and somewhat irked by the fact he had been denied his birthday wish, Corin clasped his brother’s hand and guided him to the rear entrance. He gently moved his brother’s arms into a small woolen coat and fastened a scarf around his neck.

“Mittens.” Corin stated, holding the glove slightly ajar for Sebastian to slide his hands into. Sebastian grumbled as he worked his hands into the gloves.

“You know I hate the mittens, Rinny.” Sebastian mumbled as he tugged at the neck of his scarf.

“And you’ll detest frostbite more so, dear brother.” Corin chuckled as he donned his own coat and helped Sebastian down to the garden.

A pristine layer of snow lay untouched, reflecting the gentle sunlight in a shimmering expanse of white.

“Let’s build a snowman!” Sebastian ran into the snow nearly toppling head first into a peony plant as his feet pulled behind him.

Corin and Sebastian quickly rolled large mounds of snow, Corin stacking them neatly atop one another. The snow figure bore an uncanny resemblance to their failed attempt at cake the year prior, slightly too mushy, and leaning to one side. Yet, the brothers could scarce suppress their laughter as they adorned the lopsided creation with a medley of stones and twigs, crafting its rudimentary features.

“He’s perfect.” Corin said, standing back to admire their work.

“She needs a flower.” Sebastian said, rummaging through the bare flower bushes looking for a stray petal or dying bud. He perched a minuscule, withering leaf atop the snowwomans head and smiled. “Now she’s perfect.” He giggled and bounced around at the sight of their work.

Corin clasped his younger sibling in an affectionate embrace before lowering himself onto the snow-covered ground. Sebastian emitted a delighted squeal, squirming as the cold embraced him, yet Corin held him steadfast.

“Hold on!” Corin said exasperatedly as he pulled a small box from his pocket. “I want to show you something.” Corin slowly slid the box apart and pulled out a singular matchstick.

“The fire!” Sebastian said, suddenly scooting in even closer to get a better view.

“You wanted to learn how to light your candles all on your own, so what better place than in a field surrounded by snow? Nothing for you to catch on fire.” Corin laughed, striking the match against the box. A small flame slowly emerged with a hiss and Corin handed it to Sebastian who watched it with awe.

Corin had always carried a small box of matches in his pocket. A strange habit he had picked up from his father who was a habitual smoker.

Around the age of 10, when he went off to school, Corin’s father gifted the small matchbox alongside his cartographic compass, symbolizing a means to “illuminate the dark and chart your own course,” as he his father said. An old compilation of Korean sayings Corin barely took heed too. Instead, Corin often fiddled with the box when he was nervous, something to anchor his mind when it threatened to roam elsewhere. This ritual appeared to soothe Sebastian as well.

As an infant, Sebastian would cry for hours on end. The only thing that seemed to lull him was the gentle crackle of a flame. Corin would often light a candle and watch over Sebastian until he fell back asleep. Sebastian was never allowed to play with the matches, of course, but that didn’t stop Corin from showing off or allowing him to light his own candles in private.

“Give it a try. Six years is nearly old enough to try your hand at it.” Corin said as he tossed the lit match into the snow and passed the box to Sebastian.

Sebastian tried over and over to no avail and slumped back into the snow, defeated.

“You’ll get there one day. Appa will give you your own box with your name on it and everything.” Corin said, tracing the engraving on the front of the box.

Corin lit one final match and smiled over at his brother who laid on his side, staring at Corin.

“Time for my birthday wish, Seb.” Corin stared at the match, wondering if his wish should always be the same.

“Let me make your wish, Rinny!” Sebastian pleaded, tugging at Corin’s coat sleeve. Corin smiled, lovingly extending the match to Sebastian.

“Make it worthy then.” Corin encouraged, his gaze fixed upon Sebastian’s contemplative visage, seeking a glimpse of the wish that lay within those pensive thoughts.

Sebastian blew the match out and scooted into the crook of Corin’s arm, smiling brightly.

“Well?” Corin asked, raising a brow, “What did you wish for?” He asked.

Sebastian tugged Corin’s ear down lower, using his hand to shield his voice from the world as if he was telling an important secret.

“I wished for you to always be happy on your birthday…” Sebastian said, giggling as he spoke.

“With you here? Always.” Corin replied, a grin adorning his face as he pulled his brother closer.

[Kristi]

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Warning: Very long post ahead

Svet was an enigma of imperfections, a mosaic of traits that colored her existence. Svet was fair headed, a heiress, tall in both stature and rank, perhaps some might say naive, but perfect was something she was… Thus, it was the allure of the unattainable perfection that beckoned her heart toward a grander devotion—toward Harrison Davis, the future English earl. In the tapestry of his being, she saw all that she was not—free, charming, elegantly and expressive… A sonnet spun of eloquence.

Svet, always a connoisseur of accents, found her penchant for British inflections ignited in Harrison’s company. British men were not her ideal type- a departure from her norm as though they had lovely accents she found them boring, American men were more in her allure, they were mysterious as she had never met them and it made her curious. She knew not the taste of an American, yet she knew of their liberation and how free they were.

Harrison, the embodiment of what Svet imagined the realm across the Atlantic to be- the very definition of an American man while being british- unfettered, passionate, charismatic, strode through life as a traveler through boundless seas. Attributes Svet herself dared not possess, bound as she was to her legacy as a heiress. Her parents, though seemingly indifferent, had whispered promises of her inheritance. And so, she dared not tread with abandon; she was the heiress-in-waiting.

Awestruck by him, in love with him, or was it rather the emancipation he bestowed upon her that captivated her soul? Harrison was not entwined in the same adoration, oblivious to her ardor, perhaps her feelings eluding his perception. For Harrison, love’s nuances were puzzles beyond his purview, a sentiment felt and overlooked. Thus, Svet cast aside the veil, bared her feelings with a query for a kiss, the stolen innocence of first touch, a communion of shared innocence.

Their kiss felt like freedom, Svet was flying everytime Harrison was with her. They had to marry- it was only right they should, he was her first kiss and she was his. They have shared lips on lips, meaning that they should share a ring.

“Svet, come down” his laughter carried on the wind as she perched atop a rock, an ethereal figure against the sky. “For fear of a torn dress, come down,” young Harrison’s voice implored.

“Should I fall, would you catch me, then?” Her words danced in the breeze, mingling with her laughter.

“I would, but you mustn’t fall. Come down,” he cajoled.

“But I wish to be a bird for the day, let me take flight, I don’t want to come down” , arms outstretched, she dared to emulate flight, a silhouette against the sunlit heavens. ‘I don’t want to,’ a declaration of choice, a declaration of free will, of freedom.

“Yet, you must land with me, do you not wish to be by my side?” His voice, tender, was a whisper in the wind.

“You’re so prideful, why would I want to be by your side? Do not hold yourself in such esteem,” she countered, though within her beat the desire to be wherever he was. A pout danced upon Harrison’s lips, a playful grimace in response.

“You wound me, Svetlana,” Harrison chided, jest playing in his voice. “Good boys such as I deserve kinder treatment.”

“Good?” Svet chuckled, his laughter weaving with her own like a delicate symphony, a fleeting harmony that danced between them. Harrison’s rejoinder was a laugh that sang in unison, a shared crescendo.

“You’re a tough critic, Svetlana,” his words held a whimsical cadence, a playful melody that hung in the air. A moment of reprieve before her perch gave way, the rock a treacherous precipice. Harrison’s reflexes sprung into action, a dancer’s grace guiding his steps, his arms finding her form as she tumbled.

“I told you you will fall,” Harrison said, holding Svet tightly.

“And I knew- I knew you shall catch me,”

“I shouldn’t have, teach you a lesson perhaps.” He jested as Svet ran her fingers through his face, touching him, his face was so smooth, so fresh, not yet grown to have a beard. He was 15, after all, and she was 14.

She wrapped her arms around him as he was about to drop her, leaning in, she kissed him hard on the lips. Harrison had paused, before he sat down on the grass, her on his lap and kissed back. They pulled away, just laughing as they stared into the sky, and Svet did not notice her father behind them till he pulled her away.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Her father raged, his anger palpable and his knife gleaming in the sunlight. Harrison instinctively took a step back, his heart pounding with fear. He glanced at Svet, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and apprehension. Her sudden declaration had caught him off guard, and he found himself in a precarious situation.

Svet stepped in front of Harrison, her arms outstretched as if to shield him from her father’s anger. Her voice was surprisingly steady as she spoke, her words daring and defiant. “He is to be my fiancé,” she announced, her gaze never leaving her father’s. Harrison looked at her as if she had lost her mind. This was not part of their plan, not at all.

Her father’s expression turned incredulous, a mix of surprise and anger. “You will marry my daughter then?” he demanded, his tone laced with skepticism. Harrison’s lips pursed as he struggled to find the right words. This was not how he had envisioned any of this unfolding.

As the weight of the situation settled over them, Svet turned her gaze towards Harrison, searching for a sign, for something that would reassure her that everything would be fine. But to her dismay, Harrison remained silent, his gaze averted. It was a deafening silence that spoke volumes.

“You shall marry me?” Svet’s voice trembled slightly, a mix of desperation and hope in her eyes. She wanted him to say something, anything that would make sense of this chaotic moment. She had thought they were connected, destined to be together, their souls intertwined.

Harrison’s gaze flickered towards her, a fleeting glance that held a depth of emotion he struggled to put into words. But instead of answering her directly, he looked away, his gaze distant. “If the Lord sees to it,” he finally said, his voice barely audible.

Svet’s heart sank at his response. She had expected a definitive answer, a resolute declaration of his feelings for her. But his words felt like a dismissal, a way to avoid the question without outright rejecting her. She wished he could say yes, wished he could tell her that they would face whatever challenges came their way together.

Her father’s voice cut through her thoughts, his demand for them to marry by the following day. Harrison’s body tensed as her father’s hands gripped his arms, effectively silencing any potential protest. Svet could see the disdain in her father’s eyes, and it stung. This was not how she had imagined her love story unfolding, and the reality was far more complicated than the dreams she had cherished.

With Harrison by her side, silent yet strangely present, Svet felt a mixture of emotions swirling within her. Uncertainty, fear, and a glimmer of hope tangled together as she faced the impending marriage her father had ordained.

With her father’s command hanging heavily in the air, Svet couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation pressing down upon her. She turned her gaze back to Harrison, a mix of anticipation and trepidation in her eyes. She desperately wanted him to reassure her, to give her some sort of indication that their connection was strong enough to weather this storm. But the silence that lingered between them was deafening.

Harrison’s expression was a mixture of distress and something she couldn’t quite decipher. His eyes, usually warm and inviting, held a distant look as if he was grappling with his own thoughts and emotions. Svet’s heart ached at the sight. Had she truly misread their connection? No, she had not, Harrison was just confused, Harrison loved her, he had too, she loved him, they had been each other’s firsts.

“Svetlana,” Harrison’s voice finally broke through the silence, and she turned her attention to him, her gaze searching for some semblance of understanding. “I am honored by your sentiment on marrying me, but marriage is a serious commitment, one that requires time and consideration.” His voice was gentle, tinged with a hint of frustration. “I am too young for such a step and times for such marriages have passed.”

Svet gave him a look that could not quite be deciphered, she knew what he was suggesting- he was going to leave her, leave them. He was going to leave her to rot in this house, to be lonely to have no one while he will have all in the world because he was so free, he had been the one to ask for a second and third kiss, he had been the one to run his hands through her hair- to call her beauty, to kiss her forehead and when he had called him her he had not deny it- only smiled.

“Younger than us have been made wives and husbands already,” Svet replied, her voice laced with determination. “And besides, age matters little when it comes to matters of the heart. We are meant to be, Harrison. Can you not feel it?”

Harrison’s gaze met hers, and for a fleeting moment, she thought she saw something soften in his eyes. But just as quickly, his expression became guarded again. He didn’t respond, and Svet felt a pang of frustration. She had expected him to embrace their connection wholeheartedly, to see the possibilities as clearly as she did.

“And those who married young are ruined in both mind and soul,” Harrison replied,

“You can’t leave,” Svet said again, “Make a promise, do not leave,” She begged, “If you do, I’ll jump off a mountain.”

“No, you won’t,” His voice was gentle, a mix of concern and disbelief.

“Please stay, don’t go. Tell me you love me,”

Harrison looked away at that- Harrison disliked lying much, especially when it came to love. He did not take the word, ‘love’ in vain and he was still so young, he had not lived his life.

“I am fond of you,” Is what he said instead, “You’re passionate,” He said as he kissed her forehead,

She smiled, she wanted to believe that for once in her life she was loved and free, and Harrison had just confirmed he loved her- he was fond of her, meaning that he loved her. “We will get wed then? I can convince my father to stall the wedding till we are of age, but you will be my fiance?”

“Tell your father to postpone the wedding,” Is what Harrison said and Svet nodded, wrapping her arms around him, she brought him to a kiss on the lips. Harrison did not kiss back this time, he was still, kind of cold but his lips were as soft as ever. “I love you Harrison,”

“That’s lovely,” Harrison said,

“I can’t wait to be your bride,”

“A wonderful dream indeed.” Harrison coughed, “Go and tell your father to postpone it, I might wait here.” Svet nodded, as she left she stared at Harrison once last time giving him a smile.

Svet had gone to tell her father and shockingly he agreed after the mother convinced him too, once she went back to the garden to tell Harrison. Harrison had gone, disappeared, and there was a note.

‘Svet, my sincere apologies, but I’ve caught a type of illness and passed out on the ground. A servant had come to pick me up and brought me to my house so I can heal. Have a good life, Svetlana.’

Svet held onto the letter, her heart sinking as she read Harrison’s words. A feeling of emptiness spread through her chest, and tears welled up in her eyes. She had been so close, so hopeful, and now he was gone. The weight of disappointment and loss bore down on her, and she sank to the ground, clutching the letter to her chest as she cried.

Days turned into weeks, and Svet struggled to come to terms with Harrison’s sudden disappearance. She couldn’t believe that he was just gone, that their plans for the future had been shattered so abruptly. She searched for any news of him, asking servants and inquiring with friends, but there was no trace of him. It was as if he had vanished from the face of the earth.

As the months passed, the truth slowly unraveled. It was a cold and rainy day when Svet received the news she had been dreading. A servant had come from the Davis, bearing a somber expression. She hesitated before speaking, her voice gentle but laden with sorrow.

“Duke and Duchess Raunch, and Lady Raunch, I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this,” The servant began, his eyes filled with empathy, “But Harrison… he didn’t just fall ill. He passed away.”

Svet’s heart stopped. The words reverberated through her, leaving an ache that cut deep into her soul. She felt as if the ground had been ripped from beneath her feet, and the pain was suffocating. She could hardly comprehend it – Harrison, the one she had grown so fond of, the one she had dared to dream of a future with, was no longer a part of this world.

Her tears flowed uncontrollably as she absorbed the truth. The pain was overwhelming, an agony that consumed her entirely. She remembered the times they had shared, the moments when she believed they had something special. And now, it was all gone, leaving her with nothing but memories and heartache.

In the following months, Svet retreated from the world. The garden that had once been a place of hope and possibility now seemed like a graveyard of broken dreams. She wore her grief like a heavy shroud, isolating herself from those around her. The days were a blur of tears, sleepless nights, and an unrelenting ache in her heart.

She held onto the letter Harrison had left her, reading it over and over again, as if the words would somehow bring him back. She found solace in the memory of his kiss on her forehead, in the fleeting moments of tenderness they had shared. But the pain of his absence was a constant reminder of what could have been.

It was worse that her father had decided to abandon their home country with shame, moved to Germany.

“Svetlana, what are you thinking of?” Belle asked her cousin who had come to visit all the way from Germany as they drank tea.

“Do you know a man by the name Harrison, Harrison Davis?” He was an englishman but maybe Belle might have heard of him.

“You mean Earl Harrison Davis?” Svet blinked, “Tall, curly haired, brown eyed. I know him, his mother is friends with mine, they talk business often.”

“He is an earl already, you’re telling me, he has not passed away?”

Belle laughed like Svet had said something incredulous, “I wish that was the case but no, any problems?”

Something in Svet expression shifted as she stared at Belle.

“He’s engaged, engaged to a friend of mine, Lady Azucena. She’s quite lovely,” Belle expressed with fondness in her voice, as Svet stared in disgust.

“I don’t like Lady Azucena.” Svet replied and Belle raised her brow. “Do you even know Lady Azucena? No so how come you don’t like her?”

“Her name, it displeases me.”

“Really? I think you guys would make the best of friends. Perhaps someday I shall have you meet.” Belle said giving Svet a look, like she knew something but looked the other way.

@raviola - Azucena mentioned

[DandelionKate]

---

December 1805
Christmas Day
Ilyas and Corin’s first holiday

---

Reaching around, eyes closed, he uttered a low moan as a cascade of shivers coursed through him, rousing his senses. Gradually, he ascended from his sleep, propping himself up in bed. With a bleary gaze, he cast his eyes downward to discover his blanket had somehow ended up on the floor. There he sat, now fully aware, upon the modest twin bed, casting his gaze about the encircling array of vacant beds. In the heart of the room, a diminutive hearth of metal cradled the waning embers of the timber he had placed in there the night before. The brilliant shades of the school’s blue’s adorned the canopy above, the standards, and the bedding itself. A color, Corin thought, quite fitting for the winter storm outside.
His eyes drifted to the bed to his right where the only other occupant still laid, sound asleep.
Ilyas Keats snored lightly while he slept. It was often quite annoying, but on this particular morning, Corin couldn’t help but smile at his friend who slept so peacefully. As quietly as the creaking boards would allow, Corin crept down from his lofty bed and into the common room. It was Christmas break at the academy, and the only sound throughout the large, empty space of the blue walls was Corin’s own breathing.
Still shivering from the winter chill that seemed to seep in through every crack in the old stone building, Corin quickly added more wood to the common room fireplace. He pulled out a small matchbox from his pocket and ran his finger along the engraving on the front ‘너의 길을 밝혀라, 당신의 코스를 계획하세요, 창우‘.
Smiling at the reminder, Corin flicked a match to help aid the wood in rekindling. After the fire held its own, he wandered toward the window to see the grounds outside covered in a full sheet of snow.
Part of him regretted not making the short ride home to his family on Christmas Day, however, he knew he would have many more Christmas’ with them in the future. Whereas, Ilyas would need the company this year, and Corin was not about to let him stay at academy alone during holiday. Corin was well aware of Ilyas’ lack of choice surrounding attending the academy at all, on top of his distaste for holiday seasons. And despite knowing each other for a short six months, they had grown quite close. Therefore, Corin committed to making this Christmas the best holiday they could possibly spend together.
Corin smiled, stretching his arms above his head and letting out a long sigh. He would have to start working quickly if he was going to finish before Ilyas woke up. Thankfully, the other boys had already set a Christmas tree in the center of the common room and decorated it with wild colors of bright ribbon and dried fruits. Underneath it, multiple gifts wrapped in brilliant papers and bows already sat, labeled with one of two names: Corin and Ilyas.
Of course, the gifts were the most important aspect of any proper Christmas morning, and such is the Blackwood way, Corin was never short on delivering. Corin moved toward a bookcase on the far wall of the common room where he had hidden his gifts for Ilyas.
Corin had written to his family months ago, as soon as he heard Ilyas would be staying, and asked them if it would be alright to wait until the new year to visit home. In response, Corin’s parents sent multiple large presents for both Ilyas and himself, those of which currently sat under the tree. Even Sebastian pitched in his own present, a painting of Ilyas, Corin, and himself, not-so-neatly wrapped, and scribbled on with black ink.
However, Corin had planned a separate special gift for Ilyas. One that he had been preparing for quite some time as importing goods such as these without his father’s knowledge took great care. Corin plucked the gifts and wrappings carefully from the drawer and slowly began to assemble the present. An assortment of wines and liquors obtained from every country the Blackwood’s conduct trade with, aged, and sealed in ornate glass bottles indicative of their country of origin, sat in a neat row on the common room floor. Corin gently, as to not make a sound, placed them into the large ice chest which had been adorned with a leather casing alongside other metal embellishments. Tucked neatly in front of the bottles, he placed a small leather drinking flask which bore details of Asian architecture and design as well as a burned name along the bottom of the front face, ‘Ilyas’.
He wrapped the entire box in Ilyas’ favorite shade of deep maroon red, and topped it off with a black bow to mark it was from him.
“Now that is a proper gift.” Corin smiled, scrawling Ilyas’ name on a small name card he had attached to the bow. Corin gently placed it under the tree and stood in awe of the number of presents he and his family had prepared. Ilyas would, if Corin had any say in it, have a Christmas to remember.
Just as he places the gift, a low growl erupted around the common room, shocking even Corin. The sound seemed to be coming from his stomach.
“I suppose preparing a small meal to break fast would be quite nice as well…” Corin trailed off, already heading down to the dining commons. As he swung open the large wooden doors to the dining hall he saw it was as empty as the days before. Most of the staff had even left the academy to celebrate with family.
Corin made his way to the kitchens hoping to speak to Viola, the only remaining cook, about fixing up something worthy of a Christmas meal. As he rounded the corner he saw that Viola was gone as well. In her usual place at the bread counter sat a small plate of blueberry muffins. Corin read the note attached, ‘I shall be back by dinner tonight. Eat well. -Viola’. Corin sighed, grabbing a muffin and taking a bite. His mouth opened in protest before he could process the taste, and the muffin rolled off of his tongue onto the floor. Viola was never the best baker, and was known to confuse sugar and salt in her recipes.
“I suppose morning meal is up to me.” Corin spoke to himself as he rolled the edge of his sleeves up to his forearms. He moved to the ice chest to see what items might be left. A thinly sliced beef cut lay in the center of the chest, and Corin took it out to examine it.
‘It looks fresh enough.’ He thought to himself. He figured something meaty and warm would be best to fight the chill. Slowly, he began combining flour and salt, smiling at the memory of Sebastian and himself making pastries in his home kitchen.
He spent the next hour mashing potatoes, frying meats, and baking a thin crispy pastry layer to fill out a shepherd’s pie. Although not traditional, Corin very much preferred his with pastry separating the potatoes from the meat. He also managed to mimic his mother’s macaron recipe, find some stale bread and jam, and gather enough fruits to fill a small basket. The spread would be more than enough for the two boys. Corin filled nearby baskets in the kitchen with the provisions he had built and headed back to the common room, making one small stop on his way back to grab a necessary tool in awaking Ilyas.
Aside from the eager desire to comfort and please his best friend, Corin was also riddled with excitement at the prospect of opening their presents. As he reached the common room, Corin laid the meal out around the fire to keep it warm, and walked slowly back to the sleeping quarters. He held the object he had just gathered loosely in his hand, wriggling his fingers about around it.
Ilyas laid still, sleeping as soundly as he had hours prior. The sun was beginning to peak through the dorm windows, so Corin felt less bad about waking Ilyas. Corin crept to the side of Ilyas’ mattress, and a cool smirk spread across his face as he pulled the snowball out from behind his back. In one swift motion, Corin crashed the snow down onto Ilyas’ head.
“Merry Christmas!” Corin yelled, jumping on the bed as he snow littered Ilyas’ sheets.

---

mentioned: Ilyas @Madilnel

[Jass]

Baylor in Scotland
1804
1 out 3

---

Baylor stood at the edge of the vast Scottish field, today was his first day out seeing the horses he had heard about so much. His keen eyes immediately were fixed on the majestic Clydesdale horses that roamed freely before him. His presence amidst this serene scene was a rare privilege, one he had secured through a web of connections and favors. As a representative of a long line of horse breeders, he had ventured to Scotland with the intent of studying these remarkable creatures. The Clydesdales possessed qualities that he believed could enhance the family’s bloodline of prized horses, ensuring their legacy endured for generations.

Armed with a leather-bound notebook and a pencil tucked behind his ear, Baylor approached the task at hand with meticulous precision. His first order of business was to sketch a rough layout of the field, marking the positions of each Clydesdale and any distinctive features of the landscape. It was essential to capture their spatial relationships accurately, a map that would serve as a valuable reference for future considerations. With his map in place, Baylor’s gaze moved from one magnificent creature to another. He noted their individual stature, the way their powerful legs moved, and the distinct conformation that set them apart. Every detail was vital, and he recorded them in a systematic manner, his observations organized not only by the horses’ physical attributes but also by their age, gender, and any peculiar behaviors he noticed. This thorough approach was essential in assessing their potential influence on the family’s breeding program.

The horses grazed gracefully, their massive frames exuding strength and dignity. Baylor marveled at their muscular build, a testament to what generations of careful breeding had not been able to achieve. Each Clydesdale seemed to carry a sense of regal pride, as if they were aware of their own magnificence. It was this inherent confidence that he caught his attention. In the distance, a stallion, its chestnut coat gleaming in the sunlight, led the herd. Baylor was particularly drawn to this magnificent creature. He observed the stallion’s powerful shoulders and sturdy legs, attributes he sought to instill in his family’s line of horses. With a practiced eye, he methodically jotted down notes on the stallion’s physical attributes, mentally cataloging them for future reference.

As the hours passed, Baylor’s initial intent to purely study the Clydesdales began to evolve. He found himself captivated not only by their physical prowess but also by their behavior. The herd moved together with a sense of unity, a harmonious dance that spoke of their close-knit bonds. Baylor understood the importance of not only the horses’ individual qualities but also their ability to work as a collective force.
Baylor couldn’t help but feel a sense of reverence for these creatures. They embodied the very essence of nature’s perfection. In more than one way, this natural breed had been more flawless than any human breed could become. In that moment, he understood that this experience was more than a pursuit of knowledge; it was a communion with the natural world, a connection that transcended the boundaries of human understanding.

With a final, appreciative glance at the Clydesdales, Baylor closed his notebook and took a step back. He knew that the insight he had gained from this encounter would prove invaluable in maintaining and improving the family’s horse breeding legacy. Yet, beyond the pursuit of expertise, he carried with him a newfound respect for the horses and the profound connection they had allowed him to forge with the world around him. It was a journey that held the promise of not only enhancing his family’s legacy but also bringing them pride in the generations to come.

[Madilnel]

December 1805
Christmas Day
Metz, France

---

Half a year, six months, a span of a hundred and eighty-three days, equating to four thousand three hundred and ninety-two hours. Regardless of the configuration, the duration since Ilyas last graced his familial abode stands resolute. In full transparency, he enjoyed the time away. He was having a good time at school, as hard are it is to admit that. The only thing that was a downer about boardingn school was the fact that it was all boys. Luckily, the girls school was just across the way. The frigid embrace of the chamber cradled Ilyas in slumber’s gentle clasp on this night. His mind embarked on a journey through fleeting dreams, a tapestry woven with recurring threads.

Invariably, Ilyas finds himself within the familiar confines of the ancestral bank, a realm he is destined to one day inherit. It was always dimly lit and there was an echo that he could hear coming from one of the hallways. The echo never resembled a voice, it was more of a clanking. He always found himself running towards the vault, but the faster he ran, the longer the hallway became. The higher up the stairs he found himself. The clanking sounding further and further away. Soon, he is ensconced within his father’s sanctum The office that Ilyas was expected to call his own someday. The office that had a balcony just over the grand entrance. The balcony he stood on as he watched robbers run away with all the money from the bank. He leaned over the railing. There was always someone walking behind the robbers, dangling a set of keys off their finger. That same clanking now coming from the figure below him as the keys hit each other.

As the dream tore through his mind, he tossed and turned in his bed. In no time he found a comfortable position nustled deep in his blanket. The air in the room felt crisp thanks to the drafty windows. When the room was filled with the rest of his classmates, it seemed to stay quite a bit warmer, but with just Ilyas and Corin here for the entirety of winter break it seemed chillier than usual. The winter storm not doing any help for them either. He hated to admit he missed his room back home. At school, he was a far distance from the small fireplace at the end of the room, but at his home estate, his bed was strategically placed. The fireplace right at his feet. He always thought he had the best room back home, possibly even better than his parents suite.

Bloody devil! Ilyas shouted as he sat straight up. His head covered in snow, that was now also falling onto his shoulders. He shook it off quickly and stood as fast as he possibly could. Corin you damn bootlicker, Merry Christmas, he offers, the phrase familiar, though the excitement understated.

Ilyas was never one to enjoy holidays, really any at all. It was mostly his mother fault. She tended to go all out for holidays adn well Ilyas usually ended up ruinign them in someway. Then he would get a stirn talking to from his father about how much of a disappointment he was and he needed to apologize to his mother. Then the evening ended with him in the greenhouse and his pottery. He could always hear the laughter and music bustling from the dancing hall. The ball or gathering his mother was throwing, not missing Ilyas at all.

Ilyas’s feet trugged a few paces behind Corin. Ilyas had a small smile on his face. Was he giddy? The companionship he shares with Corin alleviates the chill, fostering a realm wherein his inner boyhood is rekindled, shielded from the accelerated maturation expected of him. What is all this… An opulent sight awaits them beyond the chamber—gifts abound, accompanied by an exquisite spread of sustenance. Got me feeling like a gigglemug. He started to wonder when the h*ll Corin woke up to do this all and how hard was Ilyas himself sleeping! There was enough food to feed a group of sailers. Had Corin made this all himself? What a keeper.

A sense of vulnerability swells within Ilyas. Ilyas felt his shoulders drop ad he put one of his hand on his waist. He held up a finger to motion, give me a moment. He walked back to the bedroom in silence, listening intentley to the creaking under his feet from the old wood. He sat on his bed, taking in a sharp breath. He had never had anyone care this much for him. Especially not someone he had only known for 6 months. Half a year. 6 months. 183 days. 4392 hours. He slumped over a bit, letting his elbows rest on his knees and his head fell into his hands. Why did Corin even like Ilyas’s presence. It really puzzled him honestly. He wouldn’t let himself cry, he couldn’t even if he wanted to but in this moment a normal person would’ve cried tears of joy. Tears for a pure, loving friendship. Instead he reached down under the bed, pulling out a hat box that once belonged to his sister. He kept his dear items in here. He sighed in relief as he pulled out a piece of fabric that contained what he would gift his friend. Why hadn’t he thought of christmas presents? What an idiot. He mentally scoled himself. He stood almost too quickly that he stumbled to find his footing.

He turned on his heels as he searched through the rest of his things for anything to wrap the metal item in. An old letter crumpled around, a lacey piece of pale pink ribbon, that had come home with him after a night out, and a lopsided bow. It was not nearly as beautiful as Corin’s gifts, but it was all he had. He carried it in his hands, almost resemblinng the way you would carry a wounded bird. “Eh, it’s not much, afterall you have done this morning.” Ilyas told Corin as he outstretched his hands. Ilyas was proud of it though and hoped his friend would like it. Ilyas had been back to Germany only a few weeks ago. While he wasn’t there long, it was long enough to find a brass pocket compass. It was suited with a small carving of some wheat and hung on a heavy chain. He had been told it was a hutners compass, but hoped that wouldn’t make a difference.

“Now, no more warm and fuzzies. He gave his friend a nudge with his elbow as he walked past him and over to the food that was drawing him in. How was he not drooling yet? His fingers grasped a delicate macaroon. Had he told Corin they were his favorties. Ilyas smriekd as he took a bite. Letting the sweet taste take over his mouth. Not that I enjoy the snow, but I have never built a snowman. He told his friend with a raised brow, almost as a challenge. What else did they have to do? Might as well try adn enjoy the snow sicne they had a few feet of it now outside by the looks of it.
@DandelionKate

[Kristi]

---

age 14- 15, girls boarding school in France

---

Belle had gone back to boarding school and her elder sister was married. The year that Josephine Fleur- Sorry, Josephine Blanc got married was on a day Belle was back to the house from holidays, perhaps the worst holidays to date because Josephine kept posturing her about how much she wanted to find the
best match.

Belle sighs as she reads a book in her dorms, maybe she was being a little harsh on her elder sister. Though Belle did not agree with most of her choices, she was still her sister who was simply product of her society. Last she heard from the newspaper that the students would sneak into the school- Josephine was pregnant.

How disgusting,

Was her first thought, after all that was way too early then again was it really? Hopefully the children were cute and Marquis Antoine Blanc was a good man, she did not have time to really meet him. What a shame. Probably because Josephine did not let her near him for a while, ‘you will intimidate him with questions’ was what mother and Josephine said. How funny, they did not have faith in dear Belle, she would just invite him for some tea and chat with him. She was a really sweet sweet girl after all. The sweetest girl in town perhaps- Belle laughed at that.

Tucking her doll beside her, Belle stared at her best friend Louisa who had come to board with her and they even got to be roommates. Well, that was not shocking, Belle made sure her father had a talk with the directeur.

“Louisa, are you roused?” She asked as she shakes Louisa. No response, if it was anyone else and not Louisa, Belle would have assumed that maybe it was true they were asleep but Belle knew Louisa well and the movements they were making in the bed showed that they were truly not asleep, so Belle pulled the covers off. “Awake and radiate,” Belle said laughing as Louisa gave her a look. “Come, let’s go and explore,”

---

@Ouijaloveletters

[Ouijaloveletters]

Fifteen year old Louisa Brantley was “sound asleep”. Suddenly, one of her eyes cracked open, revealing that the girl was in fact, very awake. At the words of her best friend, she snickered, fully opening her eyes. “Alright, alright. Halt your fire. I have awoken.” She sat up, smiling wryly at her friend. Pushing back the covers, she stood up, turning to make her bed. After making her bed, she crossed the cold floor to her trunk, pulling out a day dress. Asking Belle to turn around, she slipped off her nightgown, slipping on her day dress. Once she was dressed, she turned to her friend, regarding her with skeptical brown eyes. “Please tell me that we will not end up getting in trouble while we explore…?” She asked, sighing slightly. While Louisa herself was rather free spirited, not caring about societal norms, she really wasn’t a fan of getting in trouble. The last time she’d gone along with one of Belle’s plans, she nearly fell out of a window. Slipping on a pair of shoes, she straightened up, sighing. She braced herself for whatever Belle had planned. While she was her best friend, Belle Fleur could definitely be…a bit much.
@Kristi - Belle
I gave Regency era speak a try. Keyword being try.

[Kristi]

---

Belle cast a rather sneaky look, her lips curving into a smile, “We won’t,” She said to Louisa’s worry of getting in trouble. There was no need to worry as they seldom could in trouble, it was only once they were caught being awake when they should not have but they had an excuse- studying so they were excused. “Our venture won’t be quite distant,” Belle assured. She simply wished to return a book she had taken without telling the liberian before they realized it was gone. Belle tended to do this often- in the school, there was a ‘restricted’ section that Belle tended to be curious about, what made the books forbidden and if they were so forbidden then why were they in the school’s library? Was it in an effort to tempt them? If so, the temptation was working for Belle, she was a curious being after all-* she could not help being curious, in the same way that curiosity could not help being her mother. “I’m returning a book from the forbidden section again, and I want to read more of pregnancy, Josephine is with a babe.” Belle confirmed as she pursued her lips.

Her sister being with a babe, still disturbed her, she was quite young still in Belle’s mind and on labor day then Belle shall be an aunt. Truthfully she thought, if she shall be an aunt at this ripe age then it shall come from Thomas certainly not Louis though he was the eldest and heir to the Duke title and not Kat because she was too young and had a mind quite similar to Belle (Belle had been her tutor after all) for that, she had not expected it from Josephine too though she knew she will marry before Thomas or Louis. “The idea of being an aunt does not please me much,especially since I don’t know Marquis Antoine well. Can you believe, my sister refuses to have me conversant with her husband. She fears I will make him uncomfortable with questions, I don’t know where does ideas came from.” Belle said with a pout, “I just wanted to see if he shall truly be a good match for Josephine but it seems as long as the man face is handsome and he is of a good title, either ways Josephine would see him as a good match for herself. Almost all the elder kin in my life lifestyle displeases me- my cousin, perhaps one of my favorite people in the world she’s still lovesick over a man who left her some years ago, my mother loves me but does not like me much and I feel her sentiment. I love my mother but I dislike her at the same time, My Aunt Camille is perhaps more sensible compared to Mother butf I dislike her treatment towards my cousin.” Belle ranted.

---

@Ouijaloveletters

[Ouijaloveletters]

Louisa nodded, put at ease when Belle told her where they were going. “Alright. I highly doubt you can manage to get in trouble in a library. I suppose I shall come with you. Besides, you know how much I enjoy the library. Let us make haste, but quietly.” Hearing Belle’s confession regarding her sister, Louisa’s mouth opened. “I see. I wish her the very best with her pregnancy. Please send her my regards in your next letter home.” Louisa showed no emotion on her face, and her voice was monotone, but she truly meant it. Listening to Belle talk, Louisa sighed. “I believe you at least have the right to meet the man. He is the father of your niece, after all…” Louisa pressed her lips into a thin line after hearing the Fleur family drama. “This is precisely why I stay away from people, despite the pleas of my parents. They believe it rude, yet I believe it to be even more rude if I were to slap someone for annoying me.”
@Kristi - Belle

[Kristi]

---

“You could actually, the school can be quite strict at times but we are Belle and Louisa,” Belle said taken her friend’s hand into her’s, “It’s quite hard to get into trouble when it’s us, we are quite favorable in the eyes and highly intelligent.” It was a good thing Belle had preferred reading and creative works to all the boring things like learning about marriages, how to take care of a baby and ‘being a good wife’ such a thing was unfavorable to Belle. At the end it seemed to work because Belle’s mind was as a knife, it helped her when she had to to lie, find her way around places and write. Intelligence was a gift after all, and this might sound prideful, if it is then it is what it is, Belle was not brought into the world to live her life to please people- she was not here to be liked but to live. As they prepared to go to the library, Belle draping herself with a cloak she had sewn herself and quite liked, they began chatting about Belle’ s sister, Josephine.

“My regards shall be sent, but really I am already sure Josephine has a lot of people happy for her and as you are a friend attached to my hips, Josephine knows you are happy for her.'” Belle said rolling her eyes, “Though, truthfully I have not talked to Josephine much since some holidays ago.” As soon as Josephine got married, Belle had not heard much from her. True, at first it was because Belle avoided her, annoyed at her sister’s behavior but Belle had forgiven and forgotten. When she had tried to send a letter during the letter sending period the school provided, Josephine had not return one back. She had not spoken in Josephien for long and all she knew about her was through newspapers that would be sneaked in or during the letter receiving and sending period, a family member would send her a letter.

“Exactly what I am saying! Yet to Josephine it seems to be Astonishing that I would want to talk with my brother in law, if he is made uncomfortable with me then he is a coward. I only mean to ask him questions of his opinion on things that would be favorable to Josephine.” Belle laughed when Louisa said she strayed away from people because she fears to invoke her own anger and strike them. “Slap? You’re quite amusing, but yes most people do invoke that feeling in me. Sometimes I wished I could have anyone who offends me punish, then I realize life would be quite boring without them. Foolish people were put to manage my anger skills I believe, and it would be unjust to punish those simply because I am offended, that is a man thinking,” Belle said rolling her eyes, “Let’s not stall. We should head to the library now before they wake,” Belle said as they headed to the library.

When they arrived, the library was closed as Belle expected, she used a pin from her hair and unlocked it and she smiled as they both entered it. She reached for the forbidden book section and dropped the book on top of the bookshelf- the book was such a good read, perhaps she should search for a sequel or pick or a normal book in the morning when everyone can see her.

---

@Ouijaloveletters

[Ouijaloveletters]

Louisa shrugged. “Well, yes, but at least we happen to be in the library, reading books, and not doing something more…uncouth.” She nodded when Belle expressed gratefulness at the fact that the staff liked the two of them. “Yes, luckily we do happen to be favorable in the eyes of the staff here. That certainly does not mean that we can use that favoritism to cause trouble. I refuse to betray trust like that.” Louisa let out a small chuckle when Belle said that Josephine already knew that she’d be happy. “That may be so, but I’d like for her to see my regards in writing. I pray I never end up in her place. I most certainly refuse to be tied down.” She nodded at Belle’s agreement that she should be able to meet Josephine’s husband. “You will be family, after all. You deserve to know who he is, and he deserves to know you.” Covering her mouth, Louisa snorted softly at Belle’s admission of foolish people helping to control her anger. “Yes, that is true.” Once they reach the library, Belle picked the lock, and the two enter, using the moonlight streaming in through the windows to navigate the dark shelves. Louisa navigated towards the anatomy books.
@Kristi - Belle

[Kristi]

---

“Of course not, Louisa. It would be quite cruel to do so, trust is not a thing that comes easily and it could be taken anytime.” She placed her arm in Louisa’s arm, “But we could use it to our advantage, it only becomes a problem when it’s misplaced and overused. Besides, it’s not like we do crude things with that, we simply pick out books,” Sure the books that Belle might pick out at times belong to the ‘forbidden’ section, that is true and Belle might do other things but nothing quite illegal that could get them intro trouble. Belle was a good student after all, and she had to wish to displease her father who had put so much trust into her.

Belle would say that she also did not wish to displease her mother too- but that would be a lie. It seemed that to Belle’s mother, Belle’s lifestyle, her approach to things was already a displeasure to her mother, unfortunately for her mother, Belle was not born to please her in such ways, Belle thinks, she was meant to make a change not for marriage which was was something Belle viewed through unfavorable eyes. Truthfully, the life of a spinster seemed to be more interesting, compared to the life of a mother and a wife. A partner could always turn on you, Belle believes, you can swear up and down that you know them and that they love you but men are deceitful, it is in their nature- some are pleasing to the eyes in terms of appearances, but on a closer relation- once they are truly known they are proved to be hollow and bland, They are easily disagreeable and you can find more faults in them that pros. To be tied to such creatures and have their children was a horror novel, once Belle does not wish to live in.

“Marriage, the talk of it even makes my head fall ill,” Belle jested, “But we shall not end up in her place hopefully, unless for some reason we are forced,” Belle shuddered to think about that, “But that thought seems to extreme, our parents can be quite old fashioned but my parents,” Perhaps her mother might but her father would disapprove, “Would not force my hand to someone I have to wish too, even if they did I will perhaps run away to live with cousin Svetlana,” Belle smirked as she put her hands behind her back and laughed.

Belle wished she could have Josephine listen to Louisa talk, ‘you deserve to know who he is, and he deserves to know you,’ truer words have not be spoken in ages and yes Josepine prefers the words of the dull, perhaps she is a little harsh on her sister but her sister can be harsher on her too, it was only fair Belle was harsh to her back. A they reached the library, Belle considered whether she should take another forbidden book, “Dearest,” Belle said addressing Louisa, “Do you think I shall perhaps take another book from the forbidden section or get an ordinary book?”

@Ouijaloveletters

[sunflowerjm]

Age - Atlas: 12 | Adeline: 10

“Please don’t cry, Lena; it’s just a small cut,” Atlas remarked softly as he massaged his sister’s right knee, where she had injured herself from her fall. “It just hurts so much,” Adeline wept as she attempted to hold back her tears, but the pain was too much for her. Although Adeline felt as though she had a huge wound on her knee, it was actually more of a paper cut with a few minor scratches from the small dirt rocks that were still there. “I know, but come on, let’s go inside and clean it up so we can fix it up right away,” Atlas said as he tried to wipe her tears from her cheeks. He was patient with her because, while he understood the minor cut was small, he didn’t want his sister to feel weak or stupid for crying over it. Once Adeline calmed down a bit, she gave her older brother a small nod, and Atlas gave her a faint smile as he attempted to slowly pick her up. She was small and light, so even though he still appeared to be a small boy, he had no issue scooping her up and carrying her inside the house.

It was an ordinary evening at the Delaney estate. It was calm and peaceful. The housemaids would be preparing everything for the family’s dinner, or some would just be doing the household’s daily chores. The aroma of a delicious meal wafted through the air as Adeline and Atlas entered the house. The familiar sounds of clinking cutlery and laughter from the housemaids welcomed them with their comforting warmth. Their father was usually at his office, handling his business deals or just relaxing and enjoying his personal time, while their mother would spend her evenings reading and relaxing in her library. Adeline and Atlas were not troublesome children, so it was not difficult for their parents to unwind and enjoy some alone time. Of course, family was very important to them, but they understood the importance of giving each other some space, as it allowed them to recharge and maintain a healthy balance. This arrangement also taught the siblings the value of independence and self-sufficiency, as they learned to entertain themselves during their alone time.

“Oh dear, what on earth happened to Lady Adeline?” A lady’s voice exclaimed as she went to the children’s side, carefully taking Adeline from Atlas’ arms and placing her on one of the ottomans in their common room. “I’m okay, Ms. Ella; I just fell and my knee got cut open.” Adeline exaggerated as she pointed at her knee to show Ella her “big wound.” Ella quickly checked Adeline to make sure she didn’t have any other injuries. Ella was their nanny. She was younger than most nannies at the time, but she was wonderful at what she did, given the fact that the Delaney family was the first and only household she had worked for. She was a lovely woman as well as kind, and she adored the Delaney’s children as if they were her own. “Her knee did not get cut open.” Atlas said as he laughed at Adeline’s crazy exaggeration, “We were just playing in the garden, and while I was chasing her, she didn’t see the rock that was in front of her, so that’s when she tripped and fell…” Atlas continued to say, before signaling her to come lower to his height before continued, “All she really got was a small scratch on her knee; it is not really a big deal.” He whispered before looking over Ella’s shoulder to make sure Adeline didn’t hear him. Ella chuckled and shook her head. She knew it was nothing new, but she couldn’t help but still worry. “You both need to start being more careful.” She said as she quietly laughed and stood back up to her regular height. “Come on then, let’s get that taken care of and then get you both ready for dinner.”

As the family sat at the dinner table, Eugene couldn’t help but notice how Adeline kept fidgeting with her bandaged knee. “Are you in any pain, sweetheart?” Eugene asked, his concern evident in his voice. “I heard you got hurt this afternoon.” He said before turning his gaze to Atlas. Amelia looked up at her husband, noticing his concerned expression. “Yes, but it was nothing major; Ella took care of it right away,” she said, bringing her husband’s attention to her. “I know, but I have told both of them they need to be more careful when they are playing in the garden. It’s easy to get hurt there.” He said as he looked directly at both his children, “I’m sorry, papa, it was my fault; I should have watched where I was going.” Adeline quickly said, before being interrupted by her older brother, “No, father, it was my fault. I understand that I should be more careful and make sure Adeline doesn’t get hurt.” Atlas spoke confidently, not losing contact with his father’s eyes. Their father sighed, his gaze shifting between his two children. “It’s not about blaming anyone,” he said softly, smiling at them. “What matters is that you both need to understand the importance of being cautious and looking out for each other.” Adeline and Atlas both smiled at each other and nodded, looking back at their father and saying, “Yes, father.”

After dinner, they placed a blanket and pillows on the common area floor by the fireplace for all to sit together. “Okay, who’s turn is it to read?” Amelia announced as everyone gathered by the fireplace, full from their meal. Amelia and Eugene made it a point to sit down and read with the children every night. Even though Adeline and Atlas had their own tutors, their parents loved spending quality time with them. “I read yesterday! It’s Atlas’s turn!” Adeline giggled as she pointed towards Atlas, who she knew was already groaning at the thought of having to read. “Ugh, must I really do it?” He complained as he reluctantly picked up a book. Euegene playfully nudged him and said, “Come on, Atlas, it’s not that bad! Plus, your mother always finds the most interesting stories to read.” Atlas couldn’t help but smile at his father’s encouragement and began flipping through the pages. As he began to read, Amelia and Eugene looked at each other and shared a kiss before Eugene embraced his wife close to him, and together they watched their firstborn read. Adeline scooted closer to her older brother as she tried to peek at the book that Atlas read out loud. He noticed her and placed the book lower in order to let her see. The room was filled with warmth and love as they shared this simple yet precious moment. They were together as a family, and no one could take that away from them, at least not for that moment.

[LunaticLeviTheSecond]

Rickmansworth, 1768

Mr and Mrs. Alverez were whispering softly outside of Beatrice’s bedroom when she suddenly oppened the door with a annoyed look on her face.
“Good morning, mother, father” She greeted them as a curtesy before saying getting to her point. “If you’re whispering about me, I’d like to hear it.”
“Really Margaret, how do you expect Mr. Brantley to take you with such an attitude.” Spat out her father. Her face fell at the realisation what those words meant, and her father regretted spitting it out like that. He, of course, left her mother to deal with her.
“Mother? Tell me father only means to scare me. Tell me something other than confirming what I’ve just heard form father.”
Her mother, looking down, said. “I wish to my child, but your father has a suitor in mind for you.”
Beatrice entered her bedroom and sad down, and her mother sat beside her.
“I always unerstood I needed to marry at some point, but I never imagined my suitor would be chosen for me.”
Her mother comforted her. "From what I’ve heard he is a good suitor. I’ve taken the liberty to inquire about him and … " Beatrice looked at her mother impatiently awaiting her to say what the mysterious Mr. Brantley is like. “Well mannered ever since he was a child and soft-spoken.”
“Soft-spoken? Such a man wouldn’t suit me at all, you know that mother. Did you have a hand in picking out this suitor?”
“No … But your father has his reasons.”
“Is it debt again? Like when we moved.”
“I don’t believe so, otherwise I would’ve known about it by now. There some other motive for this courthsip. Do you remeber when we were in debt, Beatrice?” Beatrice was busy pondering and didn’t respond, but her mother continued anyways. “When you were only 15 years of age and you adapted to a complete change in your life so fully because you were able to find a few bits and pieces about this place where you found beauty in and suddenly the weight of your life changing in front of your eyes didn’t seem so heavy to you. I dare say you will find such beauty when you marry him.” Beatrice’s face turned to confusion before her mother explained. “Mr. Brantley is from Bridgerton, where you home is. I couldn’t possibly tell you if that was your father’s motive or if it was his only motive, but you must admit marrying him would be better it means you would once more live in the eutopia you left behind and missed so much since we moved form there.” Beatrice turned to her mother half shocked to find out where she would move to and half delighted to find out she would return to a place she still calls home.
With a forced smile she said “Maybe I could bear it better if I would be at home.”

[LunaticLeviTheSecond]

Pt. 3.

During the week where Harold and Florence didn’t see each other, Harold was away at his father’s home since he had a bad cold. When he returned he thought of the race he had with her. Even though his cabin was cozy, it wouldn’t do him any justice if he really wanted to buy that house, and he did want it. He managed to find a townhouse for rent and he brought his father with him, as he wasn’t too ill to be moved, but he was ill enough for Harold to be worried about him. He also took his mother Mary with him and his own friend, to whom he owes his life amounting to such great lenghts.
As they were situated in rented townhouse with maids and a doctor nearby, his father started feeling much better and on one night Harold decided to take his father with him to a ball he was invited to.

---

At the ball

Harold knew his father wouldn’t find it too hard to adapt to the situation, since not only did Harold explain what is expected of a man attending such a ball, but he was as friendly to the middle class family Harold was friends with and they both learned manners that would otherwise not be known by their class.
After being introduced to a few new faces, he saw one he recognized from his daydreams, shrouded in a beautiful combination of soft muted pink tones with a floral pattern, and a headress with a feather. She was silently drinking chapagne when she noticed him and smiled. He walked over, dragging his father with him to introduce him to her. In his mind, she was the only one who would potentionally be curious about his father and would want to be introduced to him.
“Miss Cropper, what a delight” He said those words to all the people he greeted, but he meant it for the first time when he said it to her.
“Mr. Brantley, a pleasure as always.” She returned in kind with a light curtsey.
“I would like to introduce my father to you.” He turned to his father and said. “Father, this is miss Florence Cropper. The daughter of the man whose house I’m hoping to buy.” and he turns to her. “Miss Cropper, this is my father Abner Brantley.” She smiles at him and he bows his head, knowing handshakes are too informal.
“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Brantley.” She wanted to ask what his line of work is, but realized it might be a insensitive question. “You must be very proud of your son, for one to climb through the ranks like this is rare and I doubt it’s an easy feat.” She decided with noting she knows of Harold’s origin but didn’t insult anybody.
“How did you know, miss? I’ve been proud of him since his childhood. He’s always had a knack for charming those above him.” Harold smiled as his father praised him, but his smiled faded as he looked at her. He overcomplicated his father’s words and thought she assumed it meant he was charming to everybody as he is with her. It was safe to assume that thought never crossed her mind.
"You’re wrong Miss. Cropper if you think it was hard. The family I’ve been friends with as a child are the ones who taught me how to play card and who taught me manners and mathematics. Withouth them I wouldn’t be here. In fact, my friend, from the very family I mention, is staying with me and my father. I would introduce him to you, but he’s currently dancing with a young lady.
The following few minutes Harold, Abner and Florence were discussing differences in middle class and high class, when Florence saw her father nearby and he could look over at any second.
“Mr. Brantley … My father is looking.” She told him softly, to which he responded with a sly smile before tunring to his father. “Father, you could manage on your own for one dance?” It took them only a split second after Abner said yes for them to hastily move to the edge of the dance floor awaiting their dance.
While the music was coming to an end she turned to him and said “I believe my father is coming around to you.” And as they walked closer to the center of the dance floor he said “It was all your doing, no doubt.” She blushed, thinking he sees her as forward. “Why do you assume that, I wonder?” She asked playfully. ‘Did I really say that out loud?’ He thought. “I aplogize if it’s an insult to your father, but he seems the kind of man not to question the gossip he hears, while you took your time to know me despite what you’re heard of me. Who else would help him understand I’m not what is being spread about me, but the woman who took the time to see for herself.”
“Your father wasn’t lying about your charm.” She said while dancing.
They kept silent for the first two minutes of the dance and they only gazed at each other’s eyes. Finally, she spoke. “I’ve just remebered my mother extends an invite to you for a dinner my father is hosting. She is curious and wants to meet the man who taught our newighbor a lesson. See my father never really took notice of it, but my mother always thought his gambling would ruin him someday. I expect she half desires to hear how he learned his lesson.” She chuckled. “She asked me what you were like, but I explained vaiguley what I know of you … I would very much like to see her pleasantly surprised by your manners, Mr. Brantley. As was I, and as were all the people you were introduced to.”
“I would be delighted to join you, and meet your mother. I haven’t had the pleasure as of now, and since you tell me it would bring your mother joy to have me there I’m more inclined to be there.”
“You have no other plans? I’ve heard tale your father was sick when you arrived here. I haven’t heard which disease so I’m unsure if it’s still a concern.”
“We are in luck … He’s quite well. This Bridgerton society suits him. To think I was afraid he would not like it, or not fit in. Then he became ill and I feared worse. I had no other choice in the matter but to bring him to a place where he would be cared for by better doctors and service and hope for the best. Suddenly those concerns weren’t as bothersome.” Then just as quick as it started, the dance ended. With that dance, the night ended for the both of them for they only thought about the dance for the remainder of the evening, no matter how long the ball went on.

[Ouijaloveletters]

“Certainly. At least we do nothing wrong that is illegal. Besides, if the books are forbidden, then why have them here if we can’t read them? It would be much better they did not have them as to not tempt us.” Louisa said, shaking her head. It made absolutely no sense to her. Really, if the staff didn’t want the students to read those books, then…why have them? Adults were weird. Louisa scoffed. “If I am forced to wed, I may as well jump off the highest point I can find. That is not a life I would want to live.” Yes, she was being dramatic, Louisa knew this. Did she care? Absolutely not. At Belle’s question, she sighed. “I recommend you get a normal book, but my intrigue has been piqued by your talk of the forbidden section. If you wish to check it out, I may just join you.”
@Kristi - Belle