[1] The Princess Royal | B. Bridgerton

Chapter 8

"I was put on a pedestal from the moment I was born. A pedestal so high, it shorts me out of breath," she explained, and sighed.

"Your Royal Highness," he frowned. "I do not understand. Not completely. But I wish to know... What are you so afraid of?"

Charlotte wanted to answer with silence. She lightly opened her mouth, but no words came out. She was taken aback by his question.

"Char," he whispered, looking at her with sympathy, and that was the encouragement she needed to answer him. She didn't want his pity, or anyone else's, especially not for her own negative thoughts of herself.

"Of disappointing the ones I love most for not being perfect enough," the Princess blinked back the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks. She's only opened up to her brother like this. "My fear is eating me alive. My– My late sister, Amelia, was far more beautiful than I was. She was rebellious, yes. But she was everything I have been trying so hard to be... She was naturally perfect. And now that she's gone..."

"It wounds me to see you lowering yourself this way," he said sincerely, and sighed. "Whether you believe it or not, you are beautiful inside and out. And you may not notice, but you are naturally perfect. You may feel you are trying too hard, and perhaps you are even exhausted, but..."

"But?" She asked when he paused.

"I want to encourage you to love yourself more. For the rest of your life," he leaned a bit and extended his hand for her to reach. She looked down at it, still feeling a bit overwhelmed by his words, but she took a deep breath and placed it on top of his anyway. He squeezed it lightly in reassurance. "You are loved, Charlotte. Despite everything, by your family, and of course, mine. And I assure you, the rest of this country adores you as well, not for your appearance, but for your kindness, your compassion, your heart... For everything you have done for those in need."

Finally, she couldn't resist, and a few tears rolled down her cheeks. Happy tears this time. Her heart wanted to believe him, so badly, it actually did. He was right, indeed. She was loved. And she thought of herself a fool for just truly realizing it now. Charlotte has been insecure her whole life. It was time for a change. A nice change. A good change. For herself.

She looked away and blushed, before a moment later, looking back at him again, right in his eyes.

"How do you take one's insecurity away for good?" She asked, her voice came out as a whisper. "It's impossible."

"Only if you believe it is," he said softly. "You don't lose anything by trying, but you will gain a lot by doing it."

"Who would have thought Mr. Benedict Bridgerton could be so smart when it comes to giving advice on self-love," she chuckled softly.

"I am not an expert myself," he said sincerely. "But not seeing you happy, not even smiling, is a sight I cannot bear."

"Thank you, truly," her words made him smile, and with her free hand, gently wiped her tears away.

"Now, to brighten things up a bit," since he was already holding her hand, he took a step back, specifically towards the dance floor. "Would you finally grant me the honor of dancing with you?"

"I would love to," she smiled and he led her towards the dance floor.

Finally, other men and women stepped on the dance floor, and Benedict and Charlotte did the same.