Bridgerton | Official RP Thread

[novella]

══✿══╡°˖✧ ✿ ✧˖°╞══✿══

As they were officially introducing each other, Theodore smiled and bowed for her. Lydia gently shook her head, a glint of amusement in her eyes, “Ah there is no need for that,” She light-heartedly insisted in attempt to drop the formalities, despite how fitting it may be in the extravagant setting they were in. “It would be a waste to expand such grace and decorum on me,” Lydia explained, as she was not one that needed impressing with practiced manners and etiquette.

Lydia listened intently on Theodore’s travels. She longed for it to be deemed acceptable for a woman of her standing to venture out by herself, without needing to marry and travel with a partner. Lydia was intrigued of what lived outside the confines of the ton, and wanted to explore it for herself alone. “I’m very grateful to have been shown something that can be found there,” She told him, despite wishing it could have been her that was able to bring back things. He appeared relieved that Lydia had been so easily accepting of his apologies, requesting her accompaniment on a stroll. “Of course,” She smiled, joining him by his side, though not needing his arm to walk with him. “Tell me about other things you would come across on your time in China,” Lydia requested.

Though as they began walking around the venue, Lydia’s attention was elsewhere, despite her company’s attempts to converse about his travels. While she tried to appear invested in Theodore and had really been interested in the subject, she couldn’t help notice the handout of infamous papers, the eruption of hushed murmurs surrounding them, and the sudden scrutiny of eyes that seemed to be in her direction. It stopped Lydia in her tracks, looking around to confirm that is was her they were all looking at.

“Was it something I said?” Lydia thought out loud, her glance falling back to Theodore as even he couldn’t ignore the attention they had unexpectedly brought. “Perhaps they are all waiting their turn for a conversation with a perfectly eligible bachelor such as yourself,” She suggested, nodding her head in his direction playfully, despite the concern rapidly growing inside. “I shall tell them they need to…” Lydia trailed off as they were joined by a woman from the ton, the Lady Whistledown paper that had caused this mystery in her clutches.

“Pardon my interruption, I simply wish to extend my congratulations to yourself, Lady Ellis,” She began, making Lydia no less confused than before. Without it being offered to her, Lydia began to slowly take the paper out of her hands, because SOMEONE needed to fill her in on the apparent good news. Though the woman got there before she could read it for herself. “We are all delighted to hear of your betrothal.”

The word weighed heavily, dropping to the pit of her stomach as it escaped the woman’s lips. When it landed, it set off a sudden implosion within her, her heart racing and breath accelerating. Surely not. “My… what?” She attempted to verbalise, though whatever answer she might have received was inaudible over the ringing in her ears. Lydia had to find the answer for herself, her eyes hurriedly scanning through the paper to see the news that her surroundings had gotten quite the head start on.

She couldn’t believe what she was reading. Lydia had to go over it several times, hold it closer and then further away, her chest tightening with each read. It said the same thing each time. Her engagement to viscount Klaus Shafer. Her grasp on the paper stiffened until it crumpled and trembled in her hand. Though her panic began to evolve, as her thoughts became more focused and Lydia’s attention drew to the only way this could have happened. Anger crept in as she looked around for her mother.

When her laid her eyes on her, she stormed over without hesitation. She should have known she was being too lenient about Lydia’s actions at this event. It wasn’t that she had lost interest, it was knowing the matter had already been settled. “Have you taken leave of all your senses completely?” She demanded, negligent of the people that were of earshot. Her mothers eyes screamed warning in her direction, accompanied by an attempt to verbalise it, “Lydia–” “I haven’t even a clue on who this person—” Though Lydia’s interruption was handed an interruption of it’s own, her mother’s hands pushing down on both her shoulders in attempt to quiet her. “You’re being hysterical, understandably so, given such a momentous announcement,” Her mother spoke, both to Lydia and as an explanation to watchful eyes. “I suggest you get some air, perhaps it shall calm you down,” She told her, urging her towards the entrance to leave through it.

For a moment, Lydia remained still. She was filled with so much rage and a whirlwind of thoughts she didn’t know where to begin. But as she looked around at their audience, Lydia knew now wasn’t the time to give a show. She looked to her sister that she needed now more than ever, but stood close by her mother’s side. Her mother had such a way with manipulation that this public fallout would never be one where Lydia alone came out favourably. So she took steps back, breaking away from her mother’s hold and heading in the direction had been advised.

Lydia headed outside with a determined pace, each step exuding the frustration and distress that was overwhelming her, as she desperately needed to be away from the crowd of Whistledown readers. As she escaped the building, Lydia didn’t stop. She didn’t know where she was going, but she continued walking. As she always has, but now more than ever, Lydia needed to be away. From everything.

══✿══╡°˖✧ ✿ ✧˖°╞══✿══

someone come
@.Caticorn Theoooooo
@.benitz786 Ellis’

[Caticorn]

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Post-Whistledown w/ Klaus

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Theodore relaxed himself a little when the girl insisted that there wasn’t a need for the formalities he was showing her, though he couldn’t help but wonder why she didn’t think herself worthy of grace and decorum. “Merely a habit.” He responded as if he had to justify why he had extended her the same grace that he would have given any member of the ton.

As he began to speak about China, he was pleased to see that she seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say. She agreed to join him but when she didn’t take his arm, he respected her decision, holding his arms behind his back as he began to walk beside her. “The textile arts there are quite exquisite. My father sells Chinese fabrics in his shop, most of which I have brought back for him, but my sister has learned the art of Chinese embroidery and has generated some very beautiful creations.” He started. He continued to tell her about everything he had seen and experienced while in China but eventually could not ignore the feeling that he was being stared at. A very familiar pamphlet was being passed around and Theodore guessed that either one or both of their names appeared in it. A woman approached them and congratulated Lydia on her engagement, which was when Teddy decided to take his leave. He did not want to cause more scandal by being seen alone with another man’s fiance.

“Have you gone mad?” Kitty angrily accused as she appeared, thrusting one of the infamous papers into his chest. “Not only have you gone and ruined any prospects you might have had, you have ruined mine as well.” Still unsure of what it was his sister was so upset about, he finally looked at the piece of paper he now held, scanning it for a mention of his name. When he found it, he felt all the air leave his lungs.

“…it is with a mix of sorrow and intrigue that I must inform you of Mr. Radcliffe’s clandestine occupation as a paramour for hire…”

“I…it’s not…I don’t do…I can exp…” As his breath became heavy, he could not get himself to speak in full words, let alone sentences. A part of his history that he had wished would never see the light of day had been thrust out into the open like washing being hung to dry. He walked away from his sister without another word, needing to find himself a quiet place where he was out of the judgemental and inescapable eyes of the ton. He leaned against a wall, needing desperately to catch his breath, though it seemed like an impossible task at the moment as the cold and his panic spurred a violent coughing fit. He searched the crowd desperately for his father, hoping to get a chance to defend himself, but who he found instead was much more of a relief.

“Klaus.” He breathed out, covering his mouth with an embroidered handkerchief as more coughs forced their way out of his lungs. He paused for a moment to collect himself as best he could. “I need to speak with you. Please.” There was desperation in his voice as he spoke. He prayed that if his friend had already seen what had been written about him, he wouldn’t cast him aside without first letting him explain himself.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

@Kristi - Klaus

Mentioned: @novella - Lyd

[Kristi]

---

Klaus’s nerves were unsettled, as he perceived the loud murmuring and the inquisitive gazes directed towards him. The expressions he encountered were not of negativity, but rather of intrigue and curiosity, with a few even appearing celebratory, leaving Klaus utterly bewildered. It was evident to him that this stir had something to do with the pamphlets being distributed. Could it be an article from Lady Whistledown? Had some news been unveiled?

“Klaus…,” came the familiar voice of his brother, compelling Klaus to turn and walk towards Dough.

“Brother, is there a problem?” Klaus inquired, his voice betraying his nervousness, his hands at his sides as his fingers tapped lightly on his trousers. The look Dough gave him confirmed his fears, and Klaus felt a wave of terror at the thought of what could have caused such panic in his dear brother’s eyes. Klaus’s gaze fell upon the paper Dough was holding.

.
“Is that…is it… an article from Lady Whistledown?” His brother nodded, and although the mention of the infamous columnist struck a chord of anxiety in Klaus’s heart, he could not fathom what could be so alarming about the article to leave Dough so uneasy. If the article involved Klaus in some way, it would likely detail the engagement… the engagement his father had decreed would take place. He remembered the moment he had first heard of it, during one of his many painful baths—the feel of the bath water only serving to feel like a housand tiny needles piercing his skin. Each droplet seemed to carry a malevolent intent, seeking out every sore muscle and tender bruise. It was not a comforting bath, at all, but most of his bath were not as he tended to seek the pain. The pain although damaging, always tended to comfort him in a way as it reminded him of his duty- his duty to his family, and his many failures. Moreover, as he was taking that bath, he had heard a knocking of the door, a maid’ telling him that his father was calling him.
It had been approximately two days prior that he had gone to answer his father’s summons, the fresh bruises on his shoulders still sore. Unlike usual, his father’s face had broken into a smile upon seeing him. His father’s words, ones Klaus would remember for quite some time, had been simple yet profound. “You are to be a husband,” his father had declared.* “I have arranged for it.” *At those words, Klaus had not known what to feel.

His mind had been a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The bruises on his shoulders, reminders of his father’s harsh discipline, were still tender, yet here was the same man speaking of his future with a smile. Klaus had stood there, silent, trying to comprehend the magnitude of the announcement. An arranged marriage? He had barely had time to process the idea when his father continued, detailing the virtues of his intended bride and the benefits of the match for their family. He had not once mentioned her name or the family she hailed from. All Klaus knew was that she was from a prominent Duchess family, and a younger daughter. His father had called her troublesome, a shrew but an acceptable one and had said that perhaps Klaus peaceful nature could calm her down and all Klaus could do was to nod, as his fingers were numb. That day too, Klaus remembered droplets of water falling from his eyes as a memory of Liebe haunted him. Liebe, his dear Liebe, his dear sister was around his age, when she too had been married off to someone who was a good match for the family. But the fiance, the fiance, Klaus could not save Liebe from him and now due to his failure she was dead and he was going to fail his fiancee as he had failed his own sister. He could never do anything right, he had not wish to marry- at least this early, when everything was still quite wrong with him, when he was still more of a child than a man. But he could not fail his father, and he could not reject the marriage and embarrass the lady he had been enganged too. It could tarnish her name. She-whoever she was, will be ruined, she shall be made a laughing stock and Klaus was raised better than to let that happen. But still, this was, to fast, to complicated, he did not even know her name- what was she like? And still, he could not help but to think of Maisie, he had not held delusional feelings that perhaps one day she will be able to reciprocate his feelings and they shall be happy together in love, but he had hoped one day, when he had gotten married, he would have gotten over her and perhaps marry a gentle woman, one who wished to be Viscountness and he could be friends with and love. He had hoped to, that before his wedding day, he would get rid of his hallucinations, that he would not still be a mad man and that he could better himself- he could become strong enough to protect his wife, give her the life she deserved and not make her a point of ridicule.

Now, as he stood with Dough, the weight of the engagement felt even heavier. Dough had handed him the paper, and with trembling gloved fingers, Klaus began to read. The article started in a familiar fashion, but his eyes quickly focused on the name of his fiancée, Lady Lydia Ellis. She was Lady Aurelia’s sister! Klaus remembered her from their youth when their families frequently interacted due to their noble status. He felt a flicker of relief that she was not a stranger, yet it had been many years since he had seen her. He knew nothing of the woman she had become. Had she not once expressed a desire to remain unmarried? This news must be as much of a shock to her as it was to him. She might not be handling it well, and Klaus was unsure how to approach her.

Should he speak with her when he saw her? Would she prefer not to converse with him, which would be entirely understandable under the circumstances? These questions swirled in his mind, compounding his anxiety.

Still perplexed, Klaus turned to Dough, who seemed unusually downcast. It was then that Dough handed him a different edition of Lady Whistledown’s paper. Klaus hesitated before unfolding it, a sense of foreboding settling over him. As he began to read, the words struck him like a blow.

Speaking of untoward lovers, this author has recently unearthed a most extraordinary tale concerning a young gentleman, Mr. Theodore Radcliffe, whose path has led him far from the expectations of his noble lineage and into the shadowy realms of the night.

Yes, dear reader, it is with a mix of sorrow and intrigue that I must inform you of Mr. Radcliffe’s clandestine occupation as a paramour for hire. Driven, perhaps, by circumstances beyond his control or desires he dare not express in the light of day, Mr. Radcliffe had previously taken to offering his companionship and affections for a price, weaving a life of secrecy amid the glittering decadence of our society’s elite.

Our society insists that appearances are meticulously maintained, and this revelation is bound to ignite fervent discussions and furtive glances across the drawing rooms and parlors of the ton. Given the stain this news shall undoubtedly bring to Mr. Radcliffe’s reputation, it also begs the question of involvement. As you know, dear reader, Mr. Radcliffe is quite well connected to many in our society, and it is not a far cry to wonder who amongst the ton knew of his affairs, and who else, one might wonder, may have been involved in such a scandal.

Klaus stopped reading immediately, his heart breaking. Theodore—Teddy—was a prostitute. Klaus knew his friend would never do this willingly; he must have been forced into it. What had happened to Teddy in his absence? What circumstances had driven him to such desperation?

He did not have the time to think more into It, when he had been approached by the very person he was thinking of. Klaus Teddy breathed out his name, covering his mouth with an embroidered handerchief, as he coughed, causing Klaus to flinch. I need to speak with you.Please’ there was a sense of urgency in his voice and Klaus nodded.

“Teddy…” Klaus began, deep sorrow etched in his face. It still felt quite unusual for Klaus to call Teddy, Teddy after all this time, but there was no other name for Theodore that Klaus could have possible used at a time like this. “Of course, let us talk.” Klaus replied, his concern for his friend overriding his own turmoil. He led Teddy to a more secluded part of the garden, away from prying eyes and ears. As they walked, Klaus noticed how pale and drawn Teddy looked, his usual vivacity replaced by a weary desolation.

Once they were alone, Klaus with a sense of tender agony had turned to Teddy, "Are you…’ He began, “Do your fair well?”

---

@Caticorn

mentioned:

@benitz786 and @novella - Ellis sisters

[Caticorn]

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Theodore didn’t have the words to describe the relief that washed over him when Klaus agreed to talk to him. He seemed concerned and forgiving, not cold and distant like Teddy had expected. After the way his sister reacted, he didn’t think he could bear having his friend turn his back on him as well. Klaus led him to a part of the garden where they could have more privacy. As they walked, Teddy tried to fight off the tightness accumulating around his lungs. The fit that he knew was coming was the last thing he wanted to happen right now. He shook his head when he was asked if he was faring well.

“English winters are always unforgiving when it comes to my condition.” This was likely not the answer his friend had been searching for but it was a fact and a reason that he was not his usual self. Until his mother had insisted that he begin searching for a wife, he preferred to spend his winters in China, where the weather was much kinder. “I had hoped I would be married before that part of my past came to light.” He admitted, finally addressing the topic. However harsh her words had been, Kitty did have a point when it came to his secret affecting their marriage prospects. He had sullied his reputation and was now unlikely that he would be able to find a match this season, or ever.

“My father is going to disinherit me.” He spoke softly as he came to his realization, his voice tight and breathy due to his inability to take a proper breath. He knew he was right. Jasper would be a much more fit heir and his father would be foolish if he didn’t see it. No sordid past. No lingering ailment. The desire to be touched romantically. He would ensure their father’s line continued in a respectable manner. Something Teddy was no longer confident that he could do. “Not that I would fault him.” He added. His father had stubbornly refused to name Jasper his heir when Teddy became ill and again when it became clear that his lungs had been permanently damaged but he doubted that he would be able to ignore or find an excuse for this.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

@Kristi - Klaus

[sunflowerjm]

---

In the middle of a field where the night crickets chirped and the gentle sound of a lake pushing the currents could be heard was Adeline. It was already past her bedtime, and although she was supposed to be in her own bed right now, she found herself lying on a beating chest. She smiled as she counted his heartbeat, sometimes noticing a skip. Adeline knew this was wrong, but right now she did not care. All she cared about was being wrapped in the arms of the man she loved, hoping this feeling would never leave.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ༻✧༺ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ☽

Adeline looked at herself in the mirror as Thea brushed her hair, adding some finishing touches before they had to leave for the ball. More than a month had passed since she had confessed her feelings for the man she believed felt the same way, but Adeline knew she had to stop feeling sorry for herself. It was time for her to do what she needed to do as the diamond of the season: find a husband. She had picked out her dress herself today, a dress that said she would meet her future husband today.

It was an elegant, light blue almost looking white gown with a square neckline adorned with delicate lace trim. The short, puffed sleeves added a touch of whimsy, while the bodice and skirt were embellished with intricate white floral embroidery. The waist was cinched with a band of lace, giving the dress a graceful silhouette. The sheer overlay on the skirt, also embroidered with floral patterns, added a layer of ethereal beauty to the garment. To keep herself warm in the winter chill, she had chosen a matching velvet cloak lined with fur, its hood resting gently on her shoulders, ready to be pulled up against the cold. Smiling to herself, she felt good about her choice, but a hint of nervousness still lingered in the back of her mind.

A lot had changed since her love confession. Falling into a depression for a while, her brother Atlas had begun to check up on her more often, even accompanying her for breakfast and her morning walks. This was one of the things that helped her get out of that depression because she felt as if she had her other half back with her again.

Arriving at their destination, Atlas led Adeline to where the crowd was gathered. They saw everyone around them either dancing or skating happily. As they moved through the crowd, Adeline could feel piercing eyes all around her, which normally would make her want to run and hide, but this time Adeline made sure to make eye contact with the men around her, keeping her head high and smiling confidently. Atlas also kept his head high as he carefully studied the men looking at his sister. It was not normal for him to be beside Adeline during these events; it was usually easier for the men to approach her. Would Atlas complicate things now?

As Adeline saw the beautiful ice pond and people ice skating, she looked up at her brother with eyes full of excitement. Atlas knew this meant she wanted to go ice skating; she hadn’t stopped talking about it since their way here. With a small chuckle, he released her arm and signaled for her to go ahead.

Atlas then stood on the side as he looked around the crowd, where he spotted a familiar figure, one he hadn’t seen in a while but knew he couldn’t wait to speak to again. Without another thought, he made his way to her, and with a soft, nervous smile, he said as he approached her, “Ah, Ms. Mehta, I thought the day was beautiful already, but seeing you makes it truly breathtaking."

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

@Caticorn priti <3

slightly mentioned: @astxrism archhh

[Caticorn]

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Winter Ball with Atlas

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Priti had never experienced winter like this before. The snow and ice was new to her and she was embarrassed to admit that she had nearly slipped and fallen a few times this evening. Despite this, she was eager to see what the ice skating at the ball was like. She wondered if she would be able to find someone who could show her how to skate. A while into the event, she noticed a familiar piece of paper begin to circulate around the party. She managed to get herself one and as she read, she felt awful for all of the people mentioned. One name in particular stood out to her. Klaus Shafer, who apparently was now engaged to Lydia Ellis. She couldn’t help but feel a hint of disappointment, as she had thought she had connected well with Mr. Shafer and hoped they could become better acquainted and that something might come out of it.

She set the paper down, not wishing to dwell in her disappointment when there was so much available to her to take her mind off of it. She hugged her chest, trying to deliver some more warmth to herself. She had to admit that the thing she appreciated least about the wintertime in England was the cold. She didn’t understand why it had to have so much of a bite.

While she was exploring the event to keep herself warm, she heard a familiar voice approaching her. She turned to face it, smiling as she discovered she had been correct in guessing who the voice belonged to. Atlas Delaney. Her disappointment began to wash away as she made eye contact with him and his words made her blush, reminding her of how much she had enjoyed the time she had spent with him when he had called on her all those weeks ago.

“Your words flatter me, Lord Delaney.” She responded, her smile turning shy. “The day is quite beautiful, indeed. Even more so now that you’re here.” She agreed with him, maintaining eye contact. “Though I could do without the cold.” She added with a small laugh. She wondered if he shared her sentiment about the cold or if he was accustomed to this weather.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

@sunflowerjm - Atlas

mentioned: @novella and @Kristi - Lydia and Klaus

[Kristi]

---

Was there such a thing as sorrowful eyes? For if there was, then, that was the only way one could describe Klaus’s eyes when he had asked his friend if he-Teddy, was fairing well, and Teddy had shook his head no. He had never been that good with words, but still, he was at lost for words, and had nothing to say. Thus, instead of saying what cannot be said, Klaus had wrapped his arms around his dear friend, and the pulled away, gloves hands on Teddy’s shoulders, before they fell down.

“English writers are cruel,” Klaus said agreeing with Teddy’s words. “But… I really,” Before he could get his words out, Teddy had began to talk about he hoped he would be married before that part of my past came to light and Klaus sorrowful eyes could not help themselves but to get sadder. You’re a remarkable person." His gloves hands had reached to grab on his friend’s shoulder, “Anyone would be lucky to have you for a husband, I just wish…” He squeezed his friend’s shoulders, “I just wish that I was there with you going through all this, I’m sorry.” He had pulled Teddy in for another hug. He couldn’t help but to think that he deserved some blame for all the troubles his dear friend was facing. Perhaps, if he had not been passionate in his jealousy at his friend strength, if he had not been a coward, if he had been a true Shafer then all this would not have happened. He would have helped Teddy with all his troubles, so he would not have to turn to a life of prostitution and his reputation tarnished like this.

Theodore Radcliff was the kindest, and most honorable man Klaus had ever met, such a man like Teddy, a man like him did not deserve all this sufferings. “There must be something that can be done.” Klaus voiced at at Teddy’s words, his fingers tapping against his trousers as anxiety threatened to consume him. But what it is that can be done, “It will all be forgotten ,” He tried to sound reassuring, "Soon enough, the ton will have another rumor, they will forget all about this, they have to,’ He ran his hands through his hair, tugging at it. “Your father…he wouldn’t disinherit you If you got married and had a heir would he?”

Now, Klaus had never been a fan of marriages of convenience nor arranged marriages- ironic to his own condition, but his reasoning for them is that such marriages always ended up terrible, with both people bitter.But Teddy was a good man, a good man filled with love. Klaus knew that whoever Teddy marries, he would love her with all his heart. But with the rumors, with the rumors, one would not be wrong to say that Teddy’s reputation had been tarnished and finding a marriage prospect would be hard. But still, there had to be someting- a way to save his friend, a way to help him. “Recently, are you interested in any ladies?”

---

@Caticorn

[CerealKiller]

---

As Cassian made his way up the winding path that led to the Ellis family estate, the sun cast long shadows across the grounds, painting the world in hues of amber and gold. He shrugged off his overcoat, feeling the warmth of the house envelop him as he handed his hat and gloves to the waiting maid. His boots echoed softly against the polished marble floors, a stark contrast to the bustling energy that seemed to hum through the air.

He had been away all night, attending to matters that demanded his attention, but the news of Lydia’s engagement to Klaus had reached him already before the ink had dried on the official announcement. He had known of the arrangement, having been privy to the discussions between their parents and Klaus’s family. Lydia, the youngest of their siblings yet first to engage, a young lady ever independent and fiercely protective of her freedom, had never been one to dream of marriage. Yet, Cassian believed Klaus to be a good match for her, a fine gentleman close to her age, with a kind and respectable personality. In his mind, it was a pragmatic decision, as much as it wasnt ideal, it was still made with Lydia’s best interests at heart, as much as he wished it was done differently. And besides, Klaus was likely a far superior choice compared to most of the so-called gentlemen of the ton.

As he walked further into the house, the familiar sights and sounds washed over him. The portraits lining the walls seemed to gaze down at him with knowing eyes, as if they too were aware of the news that will soon stir the household. Cassian’s emotions were a mix of worry, relief and quiet determination. He knew Lydia’s initial reaction would likely be one of shock and likely resistance, but he believed that in time, Lydia would come to see this match as a positive one, even if she couldn’t see it now.

Descending the grand staircase of the Ellis estate, Cassian was greeted by the sight of his mother, her elegant gown cascading around her like waves of silk, a portrait of grace and authority. “Cassian, dear,” she began, her voice seemingly soft yet carrying the weight of her authority. “You have returned just in time for the Winter Ball. I trust your night away was productive?”
He offered her a small smile and a nod, though concern and weariness lingered in his eyes. “Indeed, Mother. Matters demanded my attention, but all is settled for now. Have you spoken to Lydia yet?”
The Duchess regarded him with a faint smile, her gaze steady and calculating. “Not yet,” she replied evenly, her tone carrying a hint of intrigue. “Your father and I thought it best to wait for the right moment. You know how Lydia can be.” Cassian nodded again, though inwardly he wondered how Lydia would take the news. “I shall go prepare for the ball,” he informed his mother before turning away with a barely noticeable sigh. As he paced through the empty halls of the Ellis estate, the silence seemed to amplify his thoughts. His sisters, Lydia and Aurelia, had already departed for the Winter Ball at the Queen’s Palace, leaving him alone with his contemplations.

Entering his chambers, Cassian closed the door behind him, the click echoing faintly in the quiet room. He sighed, a sound heavy with the weight of thoughts that had been botherig his mind. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to shed the veneer of composure he wore so effortlessly in public, leaning against the sturdy oak, he allowed himself a rare moment of vulnerability, letting the mask of nonchalance slip from his features. His reflection in the mirror mirrored a man caught between two worlds, between the duty and responsibilities of a man in his station and the desire for sweet moments of freedom.

The room was dim, the heavy drapes still drawn shut against the winter’s chill and the intrusion of daylight. With measured steps, he crossed to the tall window overlooking the Ellis estate’s meticulously manicured gardens, and with a decisive tug, Cassian pulled the curtains apart, welcoming the warm, late afternoon sunlight that spilled into the room, revealing a breathtaking view that never failed to stir a sense of tranquility within him. He could see the gardens below, carefully tended and already showing signs of the winter’s grip with frost-covered trees glistening in the winter sun that hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over the frost kissed landscape below. Delicate patterns of ice adorned the branches of ancient oaks, their leaves long since fallen, creating a sparkling tapestry against the backdrop of clear blue sky.

Cassian’s gaze lingered on the gardeners below, their figures small and purposeful as they tended to the last remnants of autumn and prepared the grounds for the cold months ahead. A pang of admiration mingled with a touch of melancholy as he thought of the dedication that went into preserving such beauty. As he gazed out at the tranquil scene, his mind wandered, from Lydia’s engagement, to Klaus, to Aurelia, to himself, to her, that one face, one presence, that lately seemed to linger in his mind more than any other. The memory of her touch, the taste of her lips, and the way the light caught in her eyes haunted him.

Turning away from the window, Cassian moved to his wardrobe, where rows of finely tailored suits and formal attire awaited.He selected a midnight blue tailcoat, its silk lapels catching the sunlight as he held it up. With precision born of habit, Cassian dressed himself for the Winter Ball at the Queen’s Palace, his presence showed a man impeccably dressed yet inwardly conflicted. The midnight blue tailcoat fitted him perfectly, its polished buttons gleaming under the soft glow of the light. Adjusting his cravat with practiced fingers, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of detachment from the lavish event unfolding over yonder.

Arriving at the entrance hall, Cassian approached the waiting carriage, its polished exterior gleaming under the soft glow of lanterns. The coachman, ever stoic and impeccably dressed, nodded in acknowledgment as Cassian stepped inside. The carriage lurched into motion, its rhythmic clatter over cobblestones marking the journey toward the Queen’s Palace. the air was crisp with the promise of winter’s embrace as Cassian arrived at the Palace fashionably late, his steps echoed softly on the cobblestone path leading through the palace gardens. The sight before him was undeniably beautiful, Lanterns hung delicately from the branches of ancient oak trees, casting a warm glow upon the frost-kissed ground and illuminating the path ahead.

The pond, now a shimmering expanse of ice under the evening sky, beckoned skaters in elegant attire to glide gracefully across its surface. The laughter of guests mingled with the strains of music that drifted from the grand pavilion nearby, where musicians played with skill and passion. Cassian moved through the crowd with practiced ease, exchanging polite nods and smiles. Yet, for all its magnificence, Cassian’s thoughts were elsewhere. He had attended this ball and others like it on numerous occasions in the past, each time appreciating the grandeur and tradition it embodied. But tonight, as he approached the glittering pavilion, there was a sense of detachment that lingered in his heart.

As Cassian wandered through the people, his attention caught by clusters of guests engrossed in Lady Whistledown’s latest scandal sheet. While he typically paid little heed to such gossip, tonight seemed to be different. It was when a well-meaning acquaintance approached him with congratulations for Lydia’s engagement that Cassian’s heart sank. He maintained his composed demeanor outwardly, offering a gracious smile and a nod of acknowledgment, but inwardly, he knew something had gone awry. Lydia was not supposed to learn of her engagement in such a manner, especially not amidst the gossip columns of Lady Whistledown. Suppressing a sigh, Cassian excused himself from the conversation and discreetly made his way through the crowd, in dire need of a refreshment.

---

@novella Lydia mentioned

@Kristi Klaus mentioned

---

[Caticorn]

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Klaus’ sympathy and comfort meant more to Teddy than he could ever express in words. After the years they had spent distanced from each other, it was a relief to still have the support of his friend. What broke Teddy’s heart was the sorrow in his friend’s eyes. Sorrow which he wasn’t sure that he deserved. A sad smile appeared on his face as Klaus squeezed his shoulder, reassuring him that anyone would be lucky to have him for a husband, a sentiment that Teddy didn’t share.

“I appreciate the kind words, Klaus. Truly.” He responded, even though he didn’t believe the words his friend was saying, nor was he certain that he even wanted to be a husband. Being a proper husband required a level of personal connection that Teddy didn’t think himself capable of anymore. The one thing Klaus said that he agreed with was that he wished he had been there. At one point during that period, he had started writing a letter to him. Yet he had never finished nor sent it. The more he wrote, the more he realized that none of his words were genuine and he couldn’t bring himself to sign a page of lies meant to convince a dear friend that he was perfectly fine when in reality he was a shell of the man he once was. “I wish you had been there as well. It had all happened so quickly, I wish someone could have stopped my reckless stupidity.”

Theodore admired the optimism with which Klaus was approaching the situation and his insistence that it would blow over. “Your optimism is comforting, Klaus, but I am not confident that this is something that would blow over. I doubt that any respectable family would let me marry one of their daughters.” He responded. He stopped to think about the suggestion that if he found a wife and produced an heir, his father might not disinherit him. “Maybe not. I suppose it comes down to whether my father finds greater value in familial loyalty or in the reputation of our name. I would not fault him for choosing our reputation.”

He didn’t know if he could answer the question of whether he had been interested in any ladies. No one immediately came to mind. Lydia Ellis had not been unpleasant to spend time with but she was now engaged and Teddy had to admit that she would be a much better match for Klaus than for him. “Not that I can immediately name. I’m sure my mother has been making changes to her list as the season progresses.” He told him with a small laugh. “While we’re on the topic though, I suppose congratulations are in order.” He added, changing the topic to his friend’s newly announced engagement.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

@Kristi - Klaus

[Kristi]

---

The words that had left Teddy’s mouth, Klaus was not quite certain he believed in them. But he did not press, could not bring himself to press, because he knew how undignified that would be for his dear friend. Thus, instead of pressing, he nodded his head and squeezed Teddy’s shoulders once more, as if that would do anything. It was quite hard, to not be good at words, or at least not know how to express one’s self better. “Forgive me,” There was not much Klaus could say to what Teddy had told him, telling him he wished that Klaus had been there for him, but that. It was hard to truly understand how deeply he wanted to be forgiven by Teddy, because Teddy did not even blame him for what became of himself (though Klaus does blame himself), he does not even know that if he were to blame Klaus, to desire a scapegoat- Klaus would have happily given himself as a scapegoat. “How,” He asked, before the english word, how was lost on his tongue. “Did it comes about,” He had wanted to ask, why , not how but why seemed to stern- too harsh, as if he was saying, Why did you let it happen, thus how, ‘how did this mistake come about’ was the most effective way of saying it,

I doubt that any respectable family would let me marry one of their daughters.” Klaus wished that he could disagree, he wished that he could say that was not the case, but then he would be a liar- and a bad one at that, so he kept silence, his face flushed at the fact he could not offer better comfort to his friend. Then suddenly, “There’s Lady Rutherford,” Maise, he thought, his dear Maise. “She- she, She, Lady Rutherford,” It was quite embarrassing the amount of times he had said she, “Has a certain penchant for matchmaking, perhaps she,” The words felt short on his throat, “Can find you a wife, after all,” He tried to appear optimistic, “You’re still not yet disinherited, a soon to be marquis, a heir, you’re a favorable match,” Hopefully, he thought but did not say. “I can… talk to her, if you wish. Please, there has to be a way to help you,” After all, if Klaus had not been so cowardly and dishonorable in his actions, then all this would have never have to have occurred to his dear friend.

He had asked his friend, if there was some ladies he had a particular incline towards, he had said he has none that comes to mind, then had congratulated Klaus on his engagement, making Klaus cheeks turn red. “Thank you,” He muttered, his face red, “I meant to tell you, it all happened so quickly.”

---

@Caticorn

[Caticorn]

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Seeing how the news affected Klaus made Teddy feel more certain that he had been right in hiding what had happened to him. He never wanted people to pity him, worry about him, or feel they could have or should have helped him when he hadn’t wanted to be helped. “You need not ask for my forgiveness. I was the one who prevented anyone from helping me.” He insisted, feeling as if he needed to relieve him of any guilt. He asked him how it happened and Teddy looked down, unsure of whether he wanted to tell him. It had only been a year since the end of that chapter of his life and talking about it seemed like a daunting task. “I…” He trailed off before taking as deep a breath as his body and the cold would allow. “They wanted Kitty. I let them take me instead.” He vaguely explained, fearing the words would get caught in his throat if he tried to say more.

Klaus continued to be optimistic about Teddy’s circumstances, so much so that he wondered if it was honourable or foolish. He couldn’t say that he was very familiar with Lady Rutherford but Klaus seemed to be sure of her capabilities. “If you have confidence in her, I suppose there would be no harm in letting her try.” He conceded, more so for Klaus’ sake than his own. This was not an issue which could be solved simply but he was willing to let his friend try. “Though I won’t pretend to be someone I am not. I am an heir, that much is true for the time being. However, I am not a favourable match. I am damaged, that is a fact.” Now that his past was out in the open, Teddy didn’t see a point in essentially lying to his future wife and pretending to be someone he was not. If, by some miracle, his father decided not to disinherit him, he would still be left with the scars his experience left on him. Scars that he was sure wouldn’t fade easily.

Teddy smiled as Klaus blushed at the mention of his engagement. “Things often do in this town.” He commented, having frequently found himself astonished by it. “She seems like a very lovely girl. I think the two of you will be well-suited for each other.” He meant the words he was saying. Lydia was a nice girl. She was the type of person Klaus deserved.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

@Kristi - Klaus

[Kristi]

Klaus did not know how true Theodore’s words were. Truly, he seemed to be trying to convince himself, that all this was his fault- that he deserved what happened to him, but he did not. His dear friend, Teddy did not deserve such a thing- no one did. But Klaus did not know how to say that, in a way that would not convey pity. He did not nod or shake his head, he had simply stared at his friend with sorrowful eyes.

He had then asked, what really has been in his mind, he had asked how- how did all of this begin, how did it happen? And Teddy began to speak, his voice had faltered a bit, until he finally said something that made Klaus finch. “Pardon?” He questioned, shock very evidently written. He could not have heard right, could he? No, no, he had to be mistaken, but the look on his face, told Klaus that he was indeed not mistaken. “Why?” He inquired, panicked and confusion evident on his face as tapped his fingers lightly on his trousers. “Who-what- who are they?” He asked, wondering who they were. He did not understand any of this, could not understand how his friend had falling into this, could not understand who wanted Kitty and could not understand why this situation- this circumstance had to occur.

Why was the world so cruel? Klaus had often wonder, and it seemed that there was no true answer to that. But he had to be there for his friend, he had to be optimistic for him, after all, if Klaus had been there, then perhaps, then perhaps unlike Libby’s death he could have stop this- he could have helped out. “She’s very good at her work,” He hoped Teddy did notice the way Klaus cheeks turned pink at mentioning Lady Rutherford, “She can-I’m sure she can- try to find you a match.” As Teddy began to talk about how he will not pretend to be someone he is not, insulting himself in the process, Klaus heart had clenched. “Please,” Klaus begging was pathetic really, “Don’t talk about yourself like that,” In was pathetic, in the way he was trying to stop someone from talking about their own-self in the way they saw fit, but Klaus knew Teddy just as much as Teddy knew Klaus and Klaus knew that Teddy was worth a hundred stars, “No matter what, you are one of the finest men I know. You are my dear friend Teddy, the dearest friend to my heart, and I will do anything in my power to help you. Please,” He begged as if he were a civilian on the streets, begging for money after the tax collectors made his pockets dry and empty.

“Thank you,” Klaus cheeks flush a bright red, he had not seen Lydia in a while, at least since their childhood days, so he could not say much about her. “I hope,” he coughed, “That our marriage goes well, I only hope to make her as happy as she deserves and I also intend to make you happy Teddy,”

---

@Caticorn

mentioned:

@Littlefeets - Maisie
@novella - Lyd

[novella]

══✿══╡°˖✧ ✿ ✧˖°╞══✿══

Unsurprisingly, Lydia’s pacing failed to diffuse her overwhelming anger. It didn’t change her current situation to just walk away from it, and it certainly didn’t make sense of any of it. If anything, each step only amplified the sheer rage, confusion and betrayal she felt. What alternate universe had Lydia landed wherein both Aurelia and Cassian stood by and let their youngest sibling be unwillingly married off? Well, if nobody else would step in, she would have to do it herself. When she stopped in her tracks, Lydia’s chest rose and fell with hurried, shallow breaths, and her fists clenched lay by her side. She couldn’t run away from this, and leave her mother to make further advances in this supposed wedding in her absence.

So after a moment of contemplation, Lydia willed herself to turn on her heel and direct her pacing with a new determination towards the Ellis estate, her thoughts filling with all the things she would say when she arrived. She hadn’t given her mind the space to feel a trace of sadness, to mourn the possible loss of her freedom and livelihood by marriage. It was something she couldn’t accept yet, and so forced into the depths of her mind and by the time Lydia reached the grand gates, she felt as though her anger alone could have forced them open.

It appeared the rest of her family had already arrived, the carriage at a halt outside the entrance. Lydia had good timing, then. She walked through the doors of the estate, the sharp click of her shoes echoing on the marble floor prompting an awaiting Aurelia to rise to her feet. Lydia couldn’t even look at her, let alone attempt to make sense of her right now. “There you are,” Her sister tried, but Lydia didn’t stop walking. “We expected you’d find departure with your betrothed soon, where… is he?” Though her words trailed off at the realisation that Lydia was not listening, and instead heading for the office, where she was correct to assume her mother to be.

“You cannot be serious,” Lydia began as soon as she set foot in the room, her voice bouncing off the walls of the once-silent office. She took a steadying breath, insistent on making clear her defiance to this absurdity. “You cannot force a marriage onto me against my wishes,” She stood tall, trying to embrace the courage in that as her adversary remained beneath her in a chair.

But when she made eye contact with her mother, Lydia faltered. She lost grasp on her control and began letting her frustration and desperation influence her words. “I know you to be impatient and controlling over my status, but do you truly think so little of my own will, of what I desire?” Lydia asked in disbelief, with a fear that she’d already answered her own question. “… That you would tether me to a life not of my choosing?” She continued, completely going off the script she had originally intended. “Why is it you take such haste in ridding yourself of me?” Lydia asked, her voice cracking with emotion and growing increasingly quieter.

Lydia closed her eyes, shaking this temporary lapse in control that wasn’t going to get her anywhere. “I will not comply with this,” She declared, her firm tone returning. “You could not force my hand even if you were to tie it down and wield every ounce of your power against me,” Lydia continued, with no trace of the plead that had crossed her face moments before. In that moment, she considered leaving the estate and never returning. But her mind went to her sister. As hurt as she was, Lydia was adamant that something had happened to Aurelia out of her control, and she couldn’t leave her. Looking at her mother, so calculating and controlling, she was certain now more than ever that it was something of her doing. “I am to find out whatever it is you have done to Aurelia, and then we are leaving this place,” Lydia proclaimed, her gaze filled with an intensity that left no room for uncertainty.

══✿══╡°˖✧ ✿ ✧˖°╞══✿══

@benitz786 Ellis

[astxrism]

{ December 18th / the morning of the ball }

your magnetic movements still capture the minutes I’m in

---

The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains of Archie’s room. He sat on the edge of his bed, his knuckles still raw and bruised from the previous night. A faint metallic taste lingered in his mouth, the evidence of his built-up anger having found its release in the underground ring he’d built for men like him - men who loved different things and men who had nowhere else to put their rage. His lip was split, a dull ache spreading across his jaw but that physical pain was nothing compared to what Archie felt inside.
It had been over a month since he’d spoken the cruelest words to the woman he’d spent his life both admiring and loving. A month of pretending as if his gaze didn’t follow her at those moments they happened to cross paths. A month of biting down his emotions when her name came up in conversation, as it often did. She was the diamond of the season, after all, the envy of every debutante and the desire of every eligible man.

The memory of her confession haunted him…the softness of her voice, the hope shining in her eyes before he crushed it with his lies. It had been the right thing to do… or so he told himself. The underground fights were supposed to be his escape, the one place where he could channel his frustration, his guilt, his love for her that he couldn’t have. But even in the ring, as fists collided and the crowd roared, all he saw was her face. All he felt was the emptiness she left behind.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts, and before he could answer, Margaret let herself in. She took one look at him and sighed, shutting the door behind her. In her hands, she carried a damp cloth and a small jar of ointment. ”You’ve outdone yourself this time,“ Margaret said, her tone hovering between annoyance and concern. She crossed the room and sat beside him on the bed. Archie said nothing, his jaw tightening as he stared at the floor. Margo reached for his hand, her eyes narrowing as she examined his bruised knuckles. ”You’ve been going too far lately, Archie. This isn’t just about the fights anymore, is it?“ “I do not wish to discuss it.“ He replied curtly, pulling his hand away.

She sighed, setting the cloth and ointment on the nightstand. “You think I do not see what is going on? You think-“ At her words, Archie’s head snapped up, his eyes dark with warning. “Do not.“ “Do not what? Speak the truth? You’re hurting yourself because you can’t have her, and you think beating yourself bloody will somehow make it easier?“ “I said don’t.“ Archie’s voice rose, sharp and defensive, echoing through the room and for a moment he looked as though he might lash out again. But Margo didn’t flinch. She stared at him, her gaze softening only slightly when she saw the anguish in his eyes.
Realizing what he’d done, Archie dropped his head into his hands.

“I apologize,“ he muttered, his voice barely audible. To that Margaret did not say anything, instead she stood up, smoothing her skirt. ”There’s a ball tonight. You’re going, aren’t you?“ Archie scoffed. “I suppose I must.“ “Then do try not to look as though you’ve been brawling in a tavern.“

---

{ December 18th / at the ball }

The frosty December air bit at Archie’s bruised lip as he strode through the castle gates with his brothers flanking him on either side. The snow crunched beneath their polished boots, and their laughter filled the quiet chill of the evening. As usual, Archie’s older brother, Benjamin, was cracking jokes. “You should’ve seen the look on his face when I’ve told him-“ Benjamin teased, clapping Archie on the back but he simply smirked, shaking his head. ”You do realize no one finds your embellishments amusing, don’t you?“ “Perhaps not,” Ben replied with a grin, “but they’re far more entertaining than the truth.” The castle grounds were alive with the magic of winter. Laughter mingled with the rhythmic sound of blades cutting into ice, the joy of the festivities was a little to much for Archie at the moment. Archie had arrived later than intended, his reluctance to partake in the evening’s gaieties manifesting in his slow, deliberate steps along the pond’s edge. His hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat as he stood at the edge of the frozen pond.

Their younger brother, Jude, chimed in, gesturing toward the frozen pond where the crowd glided across the ice. “Careful, Archie. Wouldn’t want to lose your footing out there and embarrass the family name.” Archie rolled his eyes but said nothing. Their chatter, though lighthearted, was welcome; it served to keep his thoughts from straying. But as they walked along the edge of the pond, the lanterns casting their golden glow over the ice, Archie found his gaze drifting despite himself. His gaze wandered, though he had sworn it would not, until it found her.
Adeline.

She glided across the ice like she belonged there, her pale blue gown making her look like she’d stepped out of a fairy tale. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, her dark hair swept back to reveal her delicate features. For a moment, Archie stood transfixed, his breath caught in his throat. She was perfection, a vision both familiar and utterly unattainable… but he couldn’t let himself be caught staring. His heart raced as he turned quickly, pretending to study the lanterns above… Anything to avoid meeting her gaze. He could not let her catch him staring; the shame of his own actions was too fresh, too raw. He busied himself with nothing at all, but the effort was futile. When he finally dared to look again, she was no longer alone. Adeline stood near the center of the pond talking to a gentleman whose easy confidence set Archie’s teeth on edge. The man said something that elicited a laugh from her, her head tilting back in that effortless way that had once felt meant for him alone. He could feel his jaw tightening but he could not let anyone around him notice it.

He told himself he had no right to feel anger nor jealousy, but logic didn’t stand a chance against the emotion threatening to consume him. “Something the matter, Archie?” Ben’s voice broke through his thoughts, light and teasing. Archie forced a smirk, shoving his hands deeper into his coat pockets. “Not at all.” “Then do stop glaring. You’ll frighten the poor man,” Jude added with a knowing grin. Archie ignored him, focusing on the crunch of the snow beneath their boots as they continued walking. But his gaze betrayed him again, flickering back to Adeline. She was still talking to the man, her smile soft and warm in a way that made Archie’s chest tighten. His pace quickening as he moved past the pond. If he stayed there any longer, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. He had pushed her away for her own good, pushed her away not to betray his best friend but seeing her smile at another man, hearing her laugh as though he no longer mattered, made him question the cost of his sacrifice.

---

aaaaand scene
@sunflowerjm - hiii adie

[benitz786]

The office of Duchess Roselyn Ellis was not a mere workspace but a throne room. Every element of the room screamed of dominance and control. The burgundy walls, rich and imposing, absorbed the light from the crystal chandelier above, creating an atmosphere both intimate and intimidating. Ornate bookshelves, lined with leather-bound volumes, stretched from floor to ceiling, more for show than use. Not a single book was out of place, for disorder in any form was an affront to Roselyn’s very being.

Her desk was a fortress of mahogany, its surface so polished it gleamed like a mirror. A neat stack of correspondence, tied with satin ribbons, lay to one side, while the latest edition of Lady Whistledown’s column occupied the center. Roselyn’s slender fingers traced the edge of the page as she read, her lips curling into a faint smile at a particularly cutting remark about one of her peers. It was a rare indulgence, this private amusement, but one she savored. For if Roselyn enjoyed anything as much as control, it was witnessing the downfall of those who underestimated her.

The silence was broken by the sound of the office door opening. Roselyn did not look up; she did not need to. She knew the precise rhythm of those footsteps, the stormy determination in them. Lydia. And behind her, the hesitance of lighter steps—Aurelia, ever the reluctant follower… especially now. Roselyn allowed herself a glance toward her eldest, and a cold satisfaction filled her chest. Aurelia stood quietly, her head slightly bowed, her hands clasped in front of her. She had learned her place, at last. And that was all due to her own due diligence.

Finally, Roselyn thought, pride laced with cruelty. How long it had taken to erase that insufferable spark of defiance. Months of isolation, whispers of… suggestions, the soft but persistent hand of fear—all had shaped Aurelia into the picture of submission she now was. If Lydia insisted on following this same path of insolence, well, Roselyn would gladly see her reshaped as well.

But first, she would endure this tantrum.

Yet again.

Roselyn did not lift her eyes from the paper, even as Lydia’s voice filled the room, echoing with anger and desperation.

“I can do anything I wish, daughter. Or did I not create you?” Her tone was glacial, as if she were commenting on the weather rather than crushing her daughter’s defiance. She turned the page with deliberate slowness, sparing a glance at Lydia before returning her attention to the column. “You would do well to follow your sister’s example. Demure, respectful… everything you are not. Clearly, I have failed you… or perhaps, you have failed me.”

Her words hit their mark, as Roselyn intended. Lydia’s defiance wavered, and Roselyn allowed herself the faintest of smiles before finally folding the paper with an elegant snap. Rising from her chair, she moved with deliberate grace, the soft rustle of her gown and the sharp click of her heels the only sounds in the room.

“Do you truly think so little of my will, of what I desire?” Lydia pressed, her voice shaking but firm. “That you would tether me to a life not of my choosing? Why is it you take such haste in ridding yourself of me?”

Roselyn sighed, a long-suffering sound, as if Lydia’s words were beneath even her irritation. She closed the distance between them, her gaze icy as it swept over her youngest daughter. “Think so little of your will?” she repeated, her voice dripping with mockery. “I think nothing of it. Why should I? Your desires are as inconsequential as the whims of a child. And this life you speak of as if it were a punishment? It is a privilege—a match far better than you deserve, considering the spectacle you have made of yourself this season.”

Roselyn took another step forward, her presence towering and suffocating. “Do you truly believe your antics have gone unnoticed? The ton speaks of you as a cautionary tale, a wayward daughter who tests the patience of even the most devoted mother. And yet, here I am, salvaging your future despite your best efforts to ruin it. You should be thanking me on your knees, not standing there like some defiant monkey.”

Aurelia shifted beside the door, her discomfort palpable. Her lips parted, a faint sound of protest escaping before she caught herself “Mother… perhaps…” . Roselyn’s head snapped in her direction, her expression hardening. “Hush now, Aurelia. To your room.”

Aurelia hesitated, her gaze darting between her mother and Lydia. For a moment, rebellion flickered in her eyes, but it was snuffed out as quickly as it came. “Actually, I do tire a little. Perhaps some rest would do me good,” she murmured, her voice hollow, just as her eyes. She cast one last glance at Lydia, a hollow stare - perhaps holding meaning at one point, but no longer life in her eyes was seen, before slipping from the room.

The silence that followed was heavy, but Lydia stood her ground. “I will not comply with this,” she declared, her tone resolute. “You could not force my hand even if you were to tie it down and wield every ounce of your power against me.”

Roselyn’s smile returned, colder and sharper than before. “Do you want to try?” she asked softly, her voice laced with venom. She stepped closer, her hand reaching out to tilt Lydia’s chin upward, forcing her to meet her gaze. “I have done worse to your sister, as you well suspect. And look at her now—so quiet, so lovely. Perhaps a taste of the same will remind you of your place.”

Her grip tightened momentarily before she released Lydia with a slight push. “Do not test me further. My patience is not infinite, and I have no qualms about doing what is necessary to preserve this family’s honor. If you persist, know that your sister’s ordeal will pale in comparison to what awaits you.”

Roselyn let out a sharp, ringing laugh, the sound echoing through the room as she turned her back on Lydia, moving toward her desk. “You forget, Lydia,” she said over her shoulder, her tone as cutting as glass, “I do not make threats. I make promises.”

She seated herself once more, picking up her paper with an air of finality. “Now, leave my sight. You have wasted enough of my time.”

@novella

[novella]

══✿══╡°˖✧ ✿ ✧˖°╞══✿══

When Lydia had walked in, her mother hadn’t even looked up from her desk, her eyes continuing to trail across her pages as she spoke. Overlooked, even in her rage. Though she should have expected it, the realisation still stung and she struggled to hide that. Her responses had been maddeningly dismissive and effortless, which only fuelled Lydia’s rage further. Why couldn’t her mother even look at her? Lydia’s words grew more forceful in attempt to crack her mother’s composure, willing her to pay her some attention. Demanding to be seen and her wishes to be acknowledged.

Then she did it. At some point, Lydia’s words stuck something in her mother and her demeanour completely transformed in a way that took Lydia aback, the face of nonchalance replaced with something more cold and unforgiving. But she hadn’t the chance the regain her composure, as her mother was towering over her with unrelenting words of disgust. Lydia’s space to protest uninterrupted were long gone, her mother leaving no space for her to get a word in as she spoke of the good she had done in arranging her marriage. Each word hit like a physical blow, leaving behind feelings of frustration as she knew they were the intended purpose.

“Salvaging my future?” Lydia blurted out at the first chance she could get, her shock overtaking her initial need to carefully choose her words. “By losing myself entirely to be bartered away as part of some grand scheme of yours?” She continued, shaking her head as if her words weren’t enough of a disagreement. “That is no future I will be a part of. If that fuels the ton’s futile tattles, then at least they speak of me as myself. Rather than some shadow molded according to your desires.”

Both their heads switched attention towards the faint noise that came from the doorway. Lydia gave her sister a pleading look, encouraging the slightest hint of protest that Aurelia was portraying. But she watched as her mother’s words shook any chance of that coming to the surface, her gaze shifting to one more stoic and lifeless, before she exited to her room, leaving Lydia to fend for herself.

Lydia’s continued words of protest ignited something poisonous in her mother, and as she tried to step back in her own defence her mother’s grasp pulled her in to meet her cold gaze. Though her breath quickened, Lydia could not give her mother the satisfaction of looking away.

Though when she pushed Lydia away, she left her standing with the weight of her mother’s revelation. She stumbled back, her ears ringing and head spinning slightly as she took in her words. Lydia had her suspicions regarding her mother on Aurelia’s mysterious transformance, but she could never fully accept that being the case. She had spent the season looking into other possibilities, searching the Wycliff stables and questioning her friends for another answer, when all this time it had been under her roof. Her mother had admitted it to her, and whatever it was she had done she was threatening Lydia with it now too.

“It was you,” She said under her breath, mainly to herself, before she looked up to find her mother returned behind her desk. Lydia’s surprise was soon replaced with anger as she pictured the unrecognisable look on Aurelia’s face every time she saw her, “What is it that you did? Is it that you have something over her?” She demanded, too blinded by her rage to process her mother’s prior threats, advancing across the office and slamming her hands on the desk. “What is it, you intent to turn me to a shell of who I once was as you have Aurelia? I won’t let that happen,” Lydia insisted, her heart pounding in her chest. “I am to undo whatever it is you’ve done to my sister, and I will not marry under your wishes.”

══✿══╡°˖✧ ✿ ✧˖°╞══✿══

@benitz786 …

[benitz786]

The room seemed to shrink as Lydia’s voice rang out, sharp with emotion and defiance. Who the fck taught her that?

But truly, to Roselyn, it was nothing more than a child’s tantrum, a petulant buzzing in the back of her mind as she meticulously folded the gossip column and set it aside. She allowed the silence to stretch unbearably long, her gloved hand tracing idle circles along the edge of her desk. Finally, she stood once again, her movements deliberate, commanding, as if the weight of her presence alone could crush the defiance out of Lydia. And if you asked Rosalyn; it would.

Her gaze lifted to meet her daughter’s, icy and calculating, and the smirk that curled her lips was cruel. When Lydia’s words tumbled out—“Salvaging my future?”—Roselyn’s laughter erupted, sharp and unrelenting, echoing through the grand office. It was not the warm laugh of a mother amused by her child’s antics but a cold, jagged sound that cut through the room like a blade. And truly, what a sharp blade it was.

“Obviously,” she replied, her tone laced with mockery, each word deliberately slow as if she were explaining a simple concept to a dim-witted student. “Everything I have done—everything—has been for you ungrateful children. For this family. For our reputation in the ton.”

Her hands gestured to the immaculate office around her, to the gilded frames on the walls, the pristine order of the shelves. “Do you think this perfection maintains itself? Do you think I pour my days into these matters for my own amusement? No, child. I do it to protect what we have built, to ensure that your foolish whims do not tarnish the Ellis name.”

Her heels clicked as she approached Lydia once again, each step deliberate, echoing like a ticking clock counting down to, well, Lydia’s demise. “You’re being overdramatic, as usual. Marriage is not the shackle you think it is. It is a tool, a freedom, far greater than the idiotic fantasies swirling in that empty little head of yours.” She stopped mere inches from Lydia, her gaze unrelenting. “But you don’t understand that, do you? Because you are too small-minded to see the bigger picture.” . She only stood there for a moment before walking back. Her intentions fully on resuming her air of perfection.

Except, the air in the room shifted as Lydia spoke again, her voice trembling but firm. When she dared to accuse her of molding her into a shadow of her desires, something in Roselyn snapped. She froze, her lips tightening into a thin, bloodless line, and for a moment, the stillness in the room was suffocating.

Then, slowly, deliberately, Roselyn gripped the back of a chair, her knuckles whitening, and leaned forward, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “A shadow molded to my desires?” she repeated, each word like a dagger. “What do you think you are, Lydia? Everything you are—everything—is because of me. Without my intervention, you would be nothing but a footnote in a ballroom, overlooked and forgotten. I have shaped you, given you purpose, ensured that you are more than a fleeting moment in the ton’s memory. Do not dare to question the life I have built for you.”

When Lydia began to question her about Aurelia, the smirk returned to Roselyn’s lips, playful and mocking. She tilted her head slightly, as if amused by her daughter’s newfound determination. “Come now, Lydia,” she said softly, her voice dripping with condescension. “You’re not a fool. You’re my child, after all. You’ve already pieced it together, haven’t you? Or at least part of it?”

She circled Lydia slowly, like a predator toying with its prey. “When your ungrateful brat of a sister decided she wanted to throw away everything I worked so hard to build, do you think I would simply let it happen? Do you think I didn’t bleed for her reputation, didn’t sacrifice to make her the diamond of the season? And then she thought she could run away?”

Roselyn’s voice rose, her calm composure cracking to reveal something far darker beneath. “No. No, I was not going to allow her to ruin this family with her foolish little dreams. So, I did what any mother would do.” She leaned in closer, her breath icy against Lydia’s ear. “I dealt with the brat.”

Her words were deliberate, spoken with an almost gleeful malice. She straightened, her gaze flickering with an unsettling light as she continued. “Do you think Aurelia changed on her own? No, child. That was my work. It took a year—a year of isolation, of careful persuasion, of ensuring that her foolish thoughts were replaced with the clarity she so desperately needed. Nights spent locked away, her mind reshaped piece by piece. She is better now. Perfect, even.”

When Lydia slammed her hands on the desk, Roselyn’s eyes darkened, a flicker of something almost inhuman peeking through. Her lips curved into a smile, but it was devoid of any warmth.

“You won’t let it happen?” she echoed, her voice soft but filled with venom. “You have no power, child. None. And undo what I did?” A cold laugh escaped her lips, sharper than a knife. “Undo what took months—a year—to perfect? Undo what I made permanent? Do you think a few words from you will shatter the work I poured into her transformation? No, Lydia.”

Her voice dropped to a chilling whisper, and she leaned in so close that Lydia could see the faint lines of anger around her eyes. “If you test me, I will send you down the same path. And believe me, my methods are far less forgiving now than they were then. You will break, Lydia. Just as she did.”

Roselyn straightened, smoothing the fabric of her gown as if the conversation had been no more than a minor inconvenience. “Now, leave my sight. I’ve indulged your tantrum long enough. Go on. And remember, everything I do is for you—even if you’re too blind to see it.”

She turned back to her desk, the conversation over in her mind, and picked up her paper as if nothing had happened.

@novella

[novella]

══✿══╡°˖✧ ✿ ✧˖°╞══✿══

Her mother left prolonged periods of silence between their exchange, continuously leaving Lydia in dread of what she was going to do or say next. Though her anger had only grown as the conversation progresses, Lydia’s confidence she had entered with had gradually deflated. She tried to hold her head high as her mother pulled apart every word she had said, but her eyes betrayed the emotion that was threatening to surface.

Lydia had known she wasn’t well tolerated by her mother. Throughout her life she had been an afterthought at best, with the focus on Cassian as the male heir of the family and Aurelia as the diamond, Lydia had merely been a shadow in her years prior to the debut season. Sent off to ballroom and etiquette lessons as means to shape her in ways that had seemed mild in comparison to Aurelia’s. She had long given up seeking her mother’s approval, or even her attention, understanding that it was something given sparingly if at all. But Lydia had for most of her life understood, or maybe hoped, that her mother’s harsh efforts had just been her way of showing she cared, like some sort of tough love.

Standing in front of her now, there was no trace of love here.

Lydia was no daughter to Roselyn. No trace of maternity from Roselyn, but cold and calculated distance. Lydia was not a person with her own thoughts, aspirations and desires, but something to marry off and deal with. A means to an end, a problem that needed a resolution in Roselyn’s grand scheme of social manoeuvring that Lydia wanted no part of. Lydia had been hesitant to accept that as truth as it played in the back of her mind her whole life, but right now there was no avoiding the fact. That revelation knocked out any traces of fury Lydia had gone in with, leaving an empty feeling as Roselyn spoke on the sacrifices she had made to give Lydia purpose in the ton.

Closing her eyes, Lydia winced as Roselyn touched on the extents she went to on Aurelia, the efforts put in to diminish the threat her sister posted to Roselyn’s ideals. She didn’t go into detail, probably on purpose to allow Lydia’s imagination to fill in the gaps. There was no room for her to argue in Roselyn’s account of the events, and Lydia could only shake her head at an increasing pace in sheer disgust and disagreement at the claim she had fixed Aurelia. It left a sickening feeling in her stomach, that Lydia had felt left behind and forgotten by her sister for a year. How angry she had been then, and even now when she would enforce Roselyn’s ideals on Lydia. The knowledge that none of it had been Aurelia’s fault, but Roselyn’s.

Lydia’s gaze hardened at Roselyn’s final sentiment that she could break her, her hands clenched in determination that it won’t be the case. She took a step back, her head shaking again with the occasional “No,” filling in the spaces between Roselyn’s sentences. “That won’t happen,” She insisted, her voice cracking slightly, a minimal argument next to the weight of Roselyn’s threats.

Lydia wanted to continue, to convince Roselyn of her determination. But she couldn’t stand and listen to her relentless words, maintaining a brave face. So at Roselyn’s instruction, Lydia backed away. Slowly, and then with haste when she made it to the stairs. By the time she made it to her room, Lydia was practically running, falling against her closed door as her breath came in short, shallow gasps and her chest rapidly fluctuated as every word from Roselyn repeated itself in her mind. She pressed her hand against her mouth, to shield the audible sound of her emotion as she remained sat with her back against the door as the night crept further in.

°˖✧ ✿ ✧˖°

By the early hours of the morning, Lydia’s mind had settled slightly. After hours of contemplation while sitting wide awake, she had narrowed down her stream of thoughts, leaving her mind solely on one thing. If Aurelia’s condition had been a result of Roselyn’s actions, then the answer was somewhere in this estate, and with that some way to undo it. Once she had her sister back there was nothing keeping her from leaving. Lydia and Aurelia running away together, as they had always planned. She couldn’t wait any longer, not when it felt so close.

Gently, Lydia rose from her spot and opened the door, stepping into the corridor stretching before her, dark and hollow as the darkness of the night wrapped around it. She winced at every faint echo her soft steps emitted as she descended the staircase, contemplating her first target to search. Lydia’s mind reverted to her earlier argument, as it so frequently had in the last few hours, thinking of the desk Roselyn had been situated at. By the time she reached the entry to the office, Lydia was convinced that would be the place the answers were.

Lydia entered the office again, the air thick with remnants of Roselyn’s venomous and vindictive presence. She advanced forward, crossing the invisible line where Roselyn had marked her territory hours prior and situating herself behind the desk. Lydia’s hands brushed against the desk, trailing down the side drawers, what once carried a foreboding power now dulled under her touch.

She pulled open the drawers, her considerate movements now becoming a frantic search as she sifted through paper after paper. Gossip columns, stationary, financial records, each scanned then dismissed, put back in its found place, then the closing of one and opening of another drawer. Then her eyes fell on a document with Aurelia’s name on it. A doctor’s note, addressed to Roselyn. Entailing the methods and instructions that they–

The sound of harsh footsteps interrupted Lydia’s reading, echoing in the office as figures materialised in the doorway.

══✿══╡°˖✧ ✿ ✧˖°╞══✿══

@benitz786

[benitz786]

The early morning hours wrapped the house in an… oppressive stillness, of sorts, but Roselyn was wide awake. Sleep was a luxury for those without responsibilities, and her responsibilities were vast. She sat in her private parlor, dressed impeccably in a silk robe that still managed to look more regal than most women’s best gowns. A delicate porcelain teacup rested between her fingers, the steam curling upward like a whisper.

Roselyn had anticipated this. She always anticipated this. The question was always when?

It had been all too easy to track Lydia’s restless pacing through the halls the during the day. The muffled sobs behind her daughter’s closed door. The quiet resolve that had settled just before the hour turned. And now, the faint creaks of the floorboards told Roselyn exactly where her youngest was heading. She had not moved to stop her—not yet. Let the girl think she was clever, think she had the upper hand. The moment she crossed into the office, Lydia was already hers.

Roselyn allowed herself a faint smile as she rose from her chair, the teacup placed with care onto its saucer. She adjusted the sash of her robe, the smooth fabric falling perfectly into place with a practiced tug. The flickering light from the hallway candles danced across her face, casting sharp shadows on her features as she began her slow, deliberate descent down the staircase.

By the time she reached the office doorway, she was greeted with the sight she had expected: Lydia rifling through the desk, her movements frantic, desperate. Papers were being shuffled, drawers yanked open and slammed shut, as if the answers Lydia sought would fall into her lap with enough fervor. Was she stupid? Well, that truly wasn’t a question worth asking, was it? After all, the answer was clear.

Roselyn lingered in the doorway, her presence unnoticed at first. She crossed her arms, leaning lightly against the frame, and watched. Her sharp eyes followed every jerking motion, every trembling hand that betrayed Lydia’s panic. It was almost amusing. Almost.

Finally, she stepped forward, the sound of her heels striking the floor loud and deliberate in the suffocating silence. Lydia froze, and Roselyn took her time closing the distance, her movements calm and measured, a deliberate contrast to her daughter’s frenzied state.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t know?” she said, her voice soft, almost conversational, as if they were discussing the weather. She gestured to the papers strewn across the desk, her lips curling into a faint smirk. “You’ve made quite the mess, haven’t you? Desperation suits you poorly, Lydia. You look… small.”

Roselyn’s gaze swept over the desk, her sharp eyes flicking to the document Lydia had clearly been reading. She recognized it instantly—the doctor’s notes, a detailed account of the sessions that had shaped Aurelia into the obedient daughter she was today.

“Ah,” she said, her tone light, almost amused. “So you found it. I imagine you’ve pieced it together by now. You always did have a penchant for dramatics, so I trust your imagination has filled in the gaps quite thoroughly.”

She stepped closer, her shadow falling over Lydia as she placed a gloved hand on the desk. Her fingers drummed lightly against the polished wood, the rhythm unnervingly steady. “Do you know what it took to fix her, Lydia? How much effort, how much care? Weeks, months… almost a year of work to undo the damage her foolish whims would have wrought on this family. She fought, of course. They always do. But in the end, even Aurelia learned her place.”

Her voice dropped lower, colder, each word carrying the weight of an unspoken threat. “And so will you.”

She straightened, her hands clasping neatly in front of her as she tilted her head, watching Lydia with the same detached curiosity one might afford an insect under glass. “You thought you could undo what I’ve done? You thought you could outmaneuver me? Foolish child. You have no power here. No leverage. No escape. Everything in this estate, including you, belongs to me.”

Roselyn’s lips curved into a cruel smile as the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. She turned her head slightly, just enough to acknowledge the arrival of two towering men who stepped into the room, their expressions blank, their presence oppressive. She did not have to instruct them; they knew what to do. They knew what to do since the moment she had sent them a letter hours earlier to ready things for her youngest daughter. After all, Roselyn always knew where this was headed.

Lydia barely had a moment to fight.

Within seconds, one man moved to seize Lydia’s arms and Roselyn’s gaze never left her daughter’s face. She watched the panic flood her daughter’s eyes, the way her body struggled futilely against the iron grip that held her still. It was reminciedt of her oldest. And ah; how that turned out. When the second man pressed a cloth over Lydia’s mouth and nose, Roselyn allowed herself a small, satisfied exhale. Silence, finally.

“You always were too stubborn for your own good,” she murmured, her voice almost fond. She stepped closer, leaning down slightly as Lydia’s movements slowed, her strength waning under the effects of the chloroform. As it did, for the first time, Roselyn gave a loving hold of her daughter’s cheek.

“I told you this wasn’t a game you could win,” she added softly, her tone carrying a dangerous finality. As Lydia’s eyes fluttered closed and her body went limp, Roselyn reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her daughter’s face with a gloved hand.

“… and I told you that this was a promise.”

She straightened, smoothing the fabric of her robe as if nothing had happened. With a small, dismissive gesture, she instructed the men to remove Lydia from the office. The sound of their footsteps faded into the distance, leaving Roselyn alone once more.

Her gaze drifted back to the desk, to the scattered papers Lydia had left behind. With a sigh, she began to gather them, placing each one neatly back into its drawer. Order restored, as it always would be under her rule in the Ellis household.

@novella

[benitz786]

---

Date: March 1st, 1812

Location: The Queen’s Palace

---

As the final day of the season dawns, the Queen’s Palace becomes the centerpiece of unparalleled grandeur. The castle, a symbol of regal elegance, is adorned to perfection in honor of the day’s festivities. Intricate floral arrangements, shimmering silks, and gilded accents transform the halls into a vision of opulence, while fragrant blooms and cascading lights create an air of enchantment within the gardens.

With the debuts of the season leaving much to be desired, Her Majesty has turned her attention to a more joyous occasion: matrimony. In a bold display of her unwavering desire for splendor, the Queen has decreed that not one but two unions shall be celebrated this day, ensuring the season concludes on a triumphant note. These joint weddings, destined to be etched into the annals of history, will serve as a testament to the grandeur of her reign.

The first ceremony will take place in the Grand Hall, its vaulted ceilings and crystal chandeliers bearing witness to the vows exchanged between Harrison Michelangelo Davis and Azucena Osuna. Beneath a canopy of white roses and wisteria, the couple will pledge their love amidst the assembled nobility of the ton.

Following this, the festivities will transition to the palace gardens, where Klaus Shafer and Lydia Ophelia Ellis will wed under the open sky. The gardens, resplendent with early spring blooms, will serve as a breathtaking backdrop for their nuptials, with pathways illuminated by hundreds of lanterns and petals carpeting their way to the altar.

This day promises to be a celebration of unity, love, and the indomitable spirit of the season, a fitting farewell to the Queen’s court before her departure. With every detail meticulously planned, the marriages of these two distinguished couples are destined to be remembered as the crown jewels of a remarkable season.

@novella @Kristi @raviola @TheBridgertonRP