DEAR JULIETTE ā–¹ Anthony Bridg...

By hhypnos

1.2M 39.8K 12.8K

"My final letters, were they read? Or were they written in vain?" Although born in France, Juliette Villeneuv... More

DEAR JULIETTE
PROLOGUE
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epilogue
SPIN-OFF: BLOODLINE

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26.3K 913 380
By hhypnos


chapter nineteen
BLOOD IN THE GRASS

JULIETTE'S SLUMBER WAS DISRUPTED BY THREE SHARP KNOCKS, followed by the bedroom door opening with a creak. Slumber was a poor word, for her night was hardly a restful sleep. Throughout the hours in which the moon reigned the earth and Morpheus reigned her dreams, Juliette was subjected to nightmare after nightmare — all of them featuring Anthony. And, all of them as wretched and heartbreaking as the one that followed. Every harrowing dream ended the same — a bullet in Anthony Bridgerton's chest. Even after she awoke, the image of the blood seeping from his wound as he lay dying, as his life drained into the lush earth beneath him, was seared into the forefront of every thought.

It was a nightmare, that's all it was.

Juliette's eyes ached and were puffy, no doubt from her tears. Throughout the night, Juliette found herself crying into her pillow. The tears streaming were from the revelations at the ball the night before, as well as the haunting dreams she was cursed with. It was cruel how Anthony not only tormented her waking hours but her sleeping hours as well. He was a demon that plagued her thoughts all hours of the day and night.

Anne stepped into the bedroom. In her usual cheerful tone, she said, "Good morning, miss."

"Good morning, Anne," Juliette greeted, her voice faint.

The bright sunshine of morning invaded the once dark bedroom as Anne pulled the drapes open. Juliette groaned softly at the brightness. Such intense sunlight seemed inappropriate for Juliette's current dark mood.

"These were left by the front door this morning," Anne said from her spot at the window.

Juliette did not look away from the ceiling, having found no energy to do so. Her voice laced with exhaustion, she asked, "What is it, Anne?"

"I believe they are letters, miss," Anne stated softly. She paused for a moment, recognizing the penmanship on the letter. It may have been years since Anne last saw his penmanship, but she could never forget the looseness and dangerous curvature of his writing. "Addressed to you. From, erm, Viscount Bridgerton?"

The mere mention of his name pained her heart, bringing back intense flashbacks from the night before. Her chest tightened and her breathing stilled. Juliette harshly pressed her tongue against the top of her mouth and clenched her jaw. With her eyes squeezed shut, Juliette willed herself not to cry in front of Anne. She willed herself not to shed another tear over Anthony Bridgerton. For he did not deserve her heart, thus he did not deserve her tears.

After last night's events, she had no desire to speak with him, let alone read a pathetic letter.

With a sharp breath, Juliette loosened her facial features. Coldly, she demanded, "Kindle a flame and set them ablaze."

"Of course, miss," Anne nodded with uncertainty washing over her dainty features. However, as a new thought came to mind, Anne grinned in excitement. "Also, I must tell you that last night Lady DuBois accepted an invitation from Prince Friedrich on your behalf — you are to promenade the Queen's garden this very afternoon!" Anne paused for a moment, bringing her hands to her heart. She gushed, "Oh, how romantic!"

Juliette would be a fool to mistake the genuine happiness and enthusiasm heavy in Anne's tone. However, Juliette failed to find the same sentiments herself. In fact, upon hearing the news, Juliette's heart fell from her chest and a sense of dread washed over her. Of course, she was grateful for the prince's interest and she should be excited about the invitation. But, a veil of darkness cloaked her heart. She was angry. She was heartbroken. She was lost.

Nonetheless, the invitation was already accepted.

Perhaps, the prince may even take her mind off things.

So, when Juliette finally pulled herself from bed with a forced smile, she reciprocated the same sort of enthusiasm. Juliette shrieked, although strained, "This afternoon! Anne, we haven't got much time!"

After the events of the prior evening, Juliette wanted to remain in bed with the soft linen of her sheets pulled above her head. She wanted to be alone, she wanted a moment to think and try to make sense of all that happened. Juliette wanted to understand why Anthony did what he did.

Most of all, Juliette really just wanted to cry.

. . .

The Queen's garden was far more exquisite than Juliette could have ever imagined. Lush flowers of all colours and pruned hedges lined the pathway. The garden was quiet as if the bustling nature of the city was unable to surpass the iron-wrought gates. High in the cloudless sky, the spring sun cast warmth and brightness below. It was a beautiful day for a promenade.

Even though Juliette wanted nothing more than to be in her bed wallowing in her own self-pity, she was glad she was invited to promenade with the prince. The whole ordeal was a great distraction to the anarchy settling in Grosvenor Square. In fact, Juliette's thoughts only slipped to last night's events a couple of times throughout her time with the prince. A sweet smile blessed her beautiful face and every so often, her laugh would grace the silent atmosphere.

"I must say, your highness, I am in awe." Juliette's tone was low, barely above a faint whisper, as if she was afraid to disrupt the peaceful tranquillity of the Queen's garden. "I have never seen such a breathtaking garden. In Paris, I frequently promenaded several gardens, yet, none are a fair match."

"You seldom speak of your life in France and I would love to learn more of your past," Prince Friedrich noted, walking alongside Juliette at a slow pace.

Juliette bit the inside of her cheek as she chose her following words with such care. "My childhood years were wonderful. I have no siblings, and our home often felt empty. However, my parents were quite doting over me." Coldness seeped into her chest and her mouth became dry as she thought about her parents and the pain they caused her. "Though, I must admit, London holds my heart. It is my home."

"London is your home?" The Prince questioned, raising a brow. "What about Paris?"

"My aunt and uncle, along with my dear cousins, live in Grosvenor Square. I suppose I prefer chaos over silence — my cousins are quite the mischievous bunch." Juliette explained, warmth melting the iciness of her chest as she spoke of her family. "The house is hardly quiet, but it's a home."

"I'm assuming you want a large family?"

Juliette released a soft laugh, a petite grin pulling at her lips as she thought of her future family. "The whole lot of them. I would like at least four little ones, but I'm not opposed to more."

"I see we wish for the same things," Prince Friedrich chuckled.

In the bright afternoon sun, the blond of his hair shimmered a soft gold. Juliette can't deny that he's a handsome man. The prince is everything a lady would want — handsome, charming, a prince. But, Juliette couldn't help but feel that he was missing something. Her heart didn't lurch in her chest as it should, and her stomach wasn't eating itself away with giddiness. Instead of speaking with a suitor, Juliette felt as if she was speaking with a friend. "I see we do."

"I am saddened you left the ball so soon last night," he admitted, glancing at Juliette as he spoke. "Was everything all right, Miss Villeneuve?"

The innocent question took her by surprise. As she was reminded of the events of last night, her throat tightened and her smile faltered a fraction. However, the manufactured truth slipped so easily from her tongue, "Oh yes, I was quite overwhelmed and I thought it was best for myself to rest at home." Juliette paused for a moment. "But, I am much better now. A glass of warm milk is the cure to everything."

The words that slipped her tongue were not a lie. They were true, in a sense. Juliette was overwhelmed. However, she would never dare muster to the prince the reasons why she felt such feelings. The prince needn't know of her history with a certain Bridgerton boy. And, quite frankly, Juliette didn't have the strength within her to speak of him. Even the mere thought of Anthony clenched her heart and cast a veil of darkness over her.

"I am glad to hear," Prince Friedrich smiled. A brief moment of silence passed over them before his voice slashed through the afternoon air once again. "May I ask a question?"

She nodded at his request. "Yes, your highness?"

Prince Friedrich came to an abrupt halt. Juliette stopped next to him, confused.

Juliette noticed the glint of mischief dancing within the crystal sea of his irises. The prince turned to his left, towards the lush rose bush, and plucked a beautiful red rose. With a charming grin, Prince Friedrich held out the rose to Juliette.

"Oh, it's beautiful, thank you," She smiled. With a gentle touch, she grabbed onto the stem and plucked the gorgeous flower from his grasp.

Juliette brought the rose close to her nose to sniff. The fresh floral scent invaded her senses, causing an elated feeling to wash over her. The events of last night were far from thought as she became lost in the smell of the rose. She was lost in another world —  a world far from the turmoils of her heart, of Anthony. A world of flowers, soft laughs, and a prince!

Juliette was finally at peace.

The atmosphere of the Queen's garden was, simply put, serenity. From the birds softly chirping to the soft wind of spring rustling the leaves in the trees. Bumblebees darted from flower to flower, getting intoxicated off pollen. Most importantly, the Queen's garden was silent, devoid of the loudness of humans. The only thing keeping Juliette rooted in reality was the voice of her aunt faint in the wind. Lady DuBois stood further down the path, chatting with her lady's maid and a few of the guards.

However, the tranquillity was cut short.

"Miss Villeneuve, will you marry me?"

In her shock, Juliette failed to notice the sharp pain in her hand or the thick crimson blood seeping through her white glove. A merciless thorn of the breathtaking rose slit the fabric, cutting her palm.

Juliette forcibly swallowed, offering the prince a petite smile.

A droplet of blood seeped into the lush earth.

. . .

rose's notes

DRAMA! PROPOSAL! CHAOS!

also, Juliette doesn't know about the duel yet YIKES!

If you enjoyed this chapter, please vote and comment! I love hearing your thoughts and opinions! <3

Do you think Anne burnt Anthony's letters? And, do you think Juliette is going to accept the prince's proposal?

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