Infatuation (King George III...

De Mochi_De_Llama

202K 6.2K 4.1K

"I thought I said not to cause any trouble, my dear." George chimes, playing with something in his vest pocke... Mais

*Important* Author's note
~1~ Preporations
~2~ The men in red coats
~3~ Solace for the shy
~4~ Pathetic prowess
~5~ Eyes that cut diamonds
~6~ Baking and bonding time
~7~ Pies, flowers, and the sound of dying laughter
~9~ Breathless Pt.1
~10~ Breathless Pt.2
~11~ Kidnapped by a king
~12~ Sailing away from safety
~13~ Unease
~14~ Reciprocation
~15~ Silent slumber
~16~ Loose threads of a plan
~17~ England Pt.1: Undercover redcoat
~18~ England Pt.2: Arrival
~19~ England Pt.3: Home
~20~ Tea and townspeople
~21~ Shaken up stargazing
~22~ Through the quiet halls
~23~ Common introductions
~24~ The soft sounds of music
~25~ Stories to dream Pt.1 Child-like smiles
~26~ Stories to dream Pt.2 Questions and concerns
~27~ Stories to dream Pt.3 Unreal
~28~ A letter
~29~ My little linnet bird
~30~ Small piece of hope
~31~ Frustrations
~32~ Watching it burn
~33~ Tears in tea
~34~ Closed off confession
~35~ Communication and compromise
~36~ Red and restful reading Pt.1
~37~ Red and restful reading Pt. 2
~38~ Red and restful reading Pt.3
~39~ Soft, quiet, and calm
~40~ Helpful hands
~41~ You're my favorite subject
~42~ Teaching a broken winged bird to fly
~43~ Faltering hope
~44~ Coat of gray
~45~ Fields of green
~46~ The calming senses of hidden guilt
~47~ Golden glint
~48~ To listen, to reason
~49~ Sleepless
~50~ Forever to be dear to you
~51~ Curious questions
~52~ Sorrowful suspicions
~53~ Open, and honest
~54~ Our dearly beloved
~55~ Indecisive
~56~ Mid-day shower
~57~ Quiet moment
~58~ An evening to remember Pt.1
~59~ An evening to remember Pt.2
~60~ A nice little talk
~61~ Hues of white
~62~ Careful eyes
~63~ Life as it happened
~64~ Only you...
~65~ Early morning memory
~66~ Upon fond memories
~67~ A quiet fondness
~68~ Sincerity
~69~ Open up and one's soul will glisten

~8~ Not so golden feeling

3.7K 143 21
De Mochi_De_Llama

*Edited: 1-24-2022*
Word count: 3954

~~~ August 2, 1777 ~~~
((Y/n)'s pov)

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My fingers ran nervously through my hair - pacing seemed to be my current goal in the middle of the dark living room lit only by the early morning light barely seeping in through the large window in the front.
A thin shall sat draped on my shoulders, covering my simple white nightgown.

I couldn't loose it.

My steps were small, my shoulders hanging in solemn thought of every tiny detail from the day prior — I had it then, I swear I had it then...

The sound of soft, padding footsteps snap me out of my thoughts as I look towards the entrance of the living room with a pained gaze - hugging myself as I place my thumb near my lips.
My breath was cold, shallow and hesitant with each exhale.

Lou peaks around the corner, her shoulders relaxing and her features were etched with calm worry. She steps forward, walking closer - her eyes dull with the sleep that entranced her lids to fall with concern.

"Are you alright? You left hours ago." She asks, stopping in front of me and her voice was another clear sign of her tired state.

"Sorry." My voice was soft, "I didn't keep you up, did I?" I ask and she exhales, her hand raising to rub the sleep from her eye.

"From worry? A little. You're acting off, is something wrong?"
Her green-brown gaze was kind, gentle; and yet I still tore mine to the floor, shrugging slightly as I bite my lip.
"...have you seen my pocket watch?" I ask in a timid tone and her brow twitches.

"Not recently. Have you misplaced it?"

I nod in a stiff response, finding my voice to be dry.
"I've checked most of the house twice- been up all night thinking about where it could be, and the only other place I can think of is near Parker's house."
I look up, my worry filled eyes falling on her frame as I step forward and take her left hand in mine - my free hand holding the edges of the shall and I shake my head.
"Please, you can't tell mother- or father; they have enough going on and I don't want them to be disappointed."

Her expression remains calm, shifting to one of sympathy and Lou lifts my chin, her brow furrowed just enough to show her thoughts as she seemingly studies each feature - her eyes remaining on mine momentarily.
"Have you been crying?" She asks, wiping my cheek with her thumb and my breathing stills at her observation.

I shake my head, drying any sign of her statement as my throat clears.
"No...I'm alright. Just worried about my watch."

"You're lying. Is something else bothering you too? You know you can tell me (y/n), and if you need me to keep it a secret, I can." She says, her hand moving to my shoulder and I suddenly felt guilty.

My gaze shifts elsewhere.
"I don't know how to explain it..." I say softly and she holds my hand.

"Take your time."
Her response sent a heartfelt meaning behind the three simple words.
A feeling of genuine care.

I swallow, trying to find a good way to explain myself.
"I know this week has been a lot to handle but...these past few days I've felt...off." My words were somewhat stale, forced with the feeling of being a burden to my older sibling, yet I continue on.
"I've felt like there's eyes on me- watching my every move. It's creeping me out and it's like I can't do most anything without messing up, and whenever I look for someone or something there's nothing there." I take a breath, a pained look on my face.
"I told Alex yesterday, and now he's acting differently- then this happens?"

She shakes my hand, her grip tightening just a little and I look at the gentleness in her eyes.
"I can't say I know the problem. You have been working harder, and getting up earlier- you're also tired. Maybe all you need is some rest." She wraps her arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a tight hug and I exhale.
"I'm here for you if you ever need it, alright." She says softly and I close my eyes, my lip quievering as I hide my face in her shoulder.

I wanted the moment to stay, to last and take away the nerve racking feelings of fear.

But would that make me selfish?

After a minute her warmth pulls away slowly, and I place a small smile on my face, sensing she was worried.

"Thank you, Lou."

She smiles, brushing back my hair before taking my hand.
"Come on." She says softly, leading me out of view from the living room window, and up the dark stairs.

She leads me into our dimly lit room and I swallow as her hand falls away from mine.

I watch silently as my older sister walks over to the side of her bed, her frame starting to give in to the memory of sleep - before I look at the small, closed closet we both shared.
I slowly walk over to it, calmly pulling open the thin, white doors.

I take out a dress, taking a breath as the female's bed shifts, before I turn and make my way over to the small dresser, pulling out a corset and a few other items of clothing as a sigh greets the room.

"What are you doing?" Lou asks curiously, her voice soft as she watches me with intent from the side of her bed.

I turn and walk over to my bed, setting the items on top of it before pulling the shall off my shoulders.

"Getting dressed." I try to joke, smiling a little more. "I have to go out."

"'Go?'" Lou repeats, raising a brow as she glances out the closed curtains on the window and the light that tried to come through as she places her hands in her lap.
"But you still have two hours before you have to go to work. You need to rest (y/n)."

"I know," I respond calmly, slipping off my nightgown. "but I figured I'd go out and see if I dropped my pocket watch somewhere outside. If I leave early enough I can retrace my steps from the last day or two." I say softly, setting the fabric on my bed before grabbing my corset and moving my dress.

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~~~ Time skip ~~~

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(This is what you're wearing.)

My gaze was held by the ground, watching the small details with a facade of intrigue as I made my way over to the door of the bakery, my fingers ruffling the unkempt strands of my loosely braided hair - while my mind made busy work of scolding myself for being late.
I pull it open, the little bell above chiming like a song sent from angels, and the conversation inside dies down.

I yawn, raising a hand to cover my mouth as my eyes fell closed, and the cool, fading breeze that grazed my skin sent a shiver down my back. My frame stills not too far from the door, my hands hanging by my sides and my shoulders were more relaxed - the tiled flooring keeping a grasp on my attention.

Maybe I was remembering things wrong — or was too late in realizing it was gone.

My brow twitches with thought.

I needed to push it aside for now, focus on the present. I could find it later but I need to be wise with my time.

Time - I needed more time —

"Child."
A familiar voice drags my thoughts back to reality, the cool air of bakery being the only thing keeping my nerves awake.
My gaze shifts, watching silently as the taller woman stops in front of me - her features laced with growing concern as she studies my own; our eyes making contact and her finger brushes my cheek.
"Dear, you don't look too good. Did you not sleep well last night?"

"I didn't sleep much at all..." my mumbled words were a soft correction of her question.

"Why not?"

A sigh breaks through my lips, and I lean forward, hiding my face near the crook of her neck for consolation.
"Because, I'm an idiot."

Barbara's chuckle held sympathy, her hands grasping my shoulders as she holds me at arms length, her brow furrowed in a motherly kind of stern gazes.
"No, you're not."

I shake my head, closing my eyes and my brow knits together in denial of her statement.
"But I am." I say clearly, my features stained with guilt. "Barbara, I've lost my pocket watch. I've looked everywhere for it- spent all of last night trying to figure out where I could've placed it and I can't bear to tell my father because I know how important it is to him...he trusted me with his father's watch, and I've lost it..." my words were stale, dry and distant.

But a warm hand pulls my gaze up as the older woman holds my cheek - her features painted with a look of saddened sympathy.
"Where's the last place you remember having it?" She asks.

I think for a moment, biting the inside of my cheek before I look up at her black-brown eyes.
"I'm pretty certain about last night. After I dropped off Parker at his house, I pulled it out to check the time before I-" my words suddenly cease, an embarrassed expression mixing with the guilt that crossed every feature on my face. "...before I ran into a British general...again."

"Again?" Barbara questions, raising an almost amused brow, and I nod, playing with my fingers as if they were a distraction from my mental recalling of events.

I sigh softly, shaking my head. "Barbara, why must I be so childish? Imagine how mad the king will be when he finds out that- that I ran into his general on two occasions, and didn't even have the courage to apologize to him up front. I made a fool not just of myself, but the king's royal guard."
A shiver runs down my spine, and I bring my hand up to my neck - my gaze on the counter as I stare passed the older woman.
"Oh," I shakily exhale a soft breath, my cheeks dusted with the pale hue of ghostly horror. "I'd have my head in a basket for certain."

"What makes you say that?"

I look back at the woman in question, my hands wringing the floral fabric of my dress. "...Lou read a book on english customs a few months back. Did you know they still do public executions?"
My fingers tighten.
"Barbara, not only would I die in front of a whole towns worth of people- each one mocking me for my foolish actions, but..." I exhale a shaky breath. "I'd bring shame upon my family for generations to come."

Barbara's chuckle was joined with a few other soft voices - her head shaking slowly as she places a hand on my shoulder.
"You're just overthinking things, child."

"You really think so?" I ask, and she nods calmly.

"I think you're tired and stressed. You'll find your watch eventually, but for now, you need to go home and get some rest."

I shake my head, taking a breath. "No offense, ma'am, but I don't think I can sleep, not at the moment. Besides, I need to help here."

"Will you at least rest for a minute? Lay your head down?" She asks, and I shake my head in a silent answer of her question as I walk passed her.

"I can rest later. Is there anything you need me to do?" I respond, yawning once again as I walk to the kitchen door.

Barbara turns, watching my frame closely as she sighs.
"You always were so stubborn..." she chuckles softly, glancing at the other occupants of the front room - and mouthing a quick 'I'll be back' before she heads for the kitchen.

"Well, we don't really have anything else we need to make for the week." She says kindly, stopping by the door as she fixes her apron.

I turn, offering her a kind smile.
"Well, then I'll make something for Parker's family. He'll be starting work really soon, so I'll make it as a welcoming gift." I smile, turning the older woman around as I gently push her towards the door.

~~~

I spent the next few minutes in a blur - gathering different ingredients and materials like bowls and spoons of varying sizes. They were all placed neatly on the counters - impersonating what was supposed to be an organized space on the counter.

My hands release their grasp on one of the larger bowls, my mumbled words spoken in a soft tone to myself.
"Eggs...baking powder...oil..."
My frame turns, looking up near the top of one of the shelves.
"Flour." I say in a mental continuation of my list.

A step closer to the towering object and I bite the inside of my cheek — my thoughts being stubborn, and only added onto by the sleep that forbid me to pry my focus away from my current task.
Usually, I would have Barbara help me get it down from its perched place - but she sounded busy, and I wasn't about to be a bother.

My hand grasps the top of a small stepping stool, dragging it closer and placing it by the shelf before I step up, dusting off my floral dress skirt as I look at the bag of flour waiting patiently above me.
I reach up, standing on my tippy toes - and the tips of my fingers touch the bottom of the bag, inching it forward in an attempt to wrap my fingers around the corner.

My left foot lifts - an irritating sensation of distant pain making my toes feel numb from my less than elegant practice of ballet.
A yawn draws my eyes to fall closed, my head shaking away the tired feeling desperately wanting to be acknowledged — and that one quick motion was enough to shatter my frail lack of balance —

A choked back gasp greets the moment - my cry of nerve pinching surprise joining the hard-felt thud of my less than graceful collision with the floor - the bag that once peered over the shelf falling and I flinch into a ball - involuntarily coughing at the dust-filled impact of the flour covered shelves, counters, floor tiles, and myself.

"Ow..."
Another cough and the crashing symphony dies down - my frame propping myself up on my elbow and shaking off the little bits of flour that more than ghosted my skin and hair.

"Child?"

I turn my attention to the kitchen door as Barbara's voice calls out - my free hand dusting off the flour from my left cheek.

"(Y/n), are you alright dear?" Her tone was weary, and I stand up, my nose scrunching in disapproval at the newly made flour massacre decorating a brunt of the kitchen.

I dust myself off - the flour falling to coat the floor as I stumble towards and push on the kitchen door, coughing as my hand waves away the air and I shake my head again - causing specks of the dry ingredient still in my hair to fall to the floor while Barbara quickly made her way over to me.
"Don't go- in there." I cough.

The older woman takes hold of my hand, rubbing my right shoulder and I look up as Barbara holds back a laugh, a surprised - yet still concerned look on her face.

"Gracious child, what happened?"

"You don't want to know-" I exhale a breath as I make a small motion with my hands. "but it's everywhere."
My eyes dart to hers, her features amused.
"On the bright side, I'm not tired anymore- where's the broom?"

Barbara raises a brow, taking my hand as she laughs softly and wipes her hand across my shoulder.
"Let's get you sat down for a minute first."

"But I have to clean all that up."

"Oh hush. You and I can do that later, for now you need to sit. Did you get hurt?" She asks, and I chuckle softly.

"I'm fine; it's the kitchen you should be worried about." I mumble my words of mocking disappointment, dusting myself off more thoroughly.

"Oh, child." She says softly, leading me over to the group of men as I look up, my face turning pale within moments.

"...how long have they been here?" My voice whispered with worry.

Barbara chuckles, "For a while actually. I was going to tell you when you first got here, but you seemed...preoccupied." She says, sitting me down at a table before patting my shoulder, and I hide my face in my hands - gently dragging my palms down until my fingers rested near my cheeks.

"Are you sure you're alright, Ms. (l/n)?" Washington asks kindly, and I turn my head, my hands falling down to the top of the table as I chuckle and play with my fingers.

"I'm fine, but the kitchen's not going to clean itself up." I say, my voice raising ever so slightly as I tilt my head back and look at Barbara, who shakes her head as mine hangs.

"The flour's not going anywhere either, I can help you clean it up after you rest."

"You don't need to help; it's my mess." I protest, pointing at myself as she raises her brow.

"I'm not taking no for an answer. You can't clean that by yourself." She lectures.

"Oh but I can." My response held a matter of fact tone, yet her deep brown gaze told me to swallow my pride.
I bite the inside of my cheek, a stubborn expression falling on my face.
"Alright, alright..." I mumble, and she chuckles as I rest my cheek on my hand.

The fingers on my free hand tap the top of the wooden table as Barbara talks with the males - having a conversation I wasn't paying enough attention to, but they laughed a few times, and each muffled tone held an air of calm, so I assumed it was something more light hearted.

After a few minutes my eyes found the lines on the table to be bland, and I glance up - the heat finding my cheeks within moments as my gaze came in contact with that of the king - who was only standing a few feet away - and a subtle smile plays with his lips as his eyes sparkle with a sense of something I couldn't quite make out.

An undefined emotion dancing in his crystal gaze.

The moment was brief — torn away due to my newly found embarrassment, and the once boring line on the table suddenly became more interesting.
I tap my cheek, my brain scrambling itself as I make a realization of five simple words.

'He heard everything I said.'

Yet another screw up I could mock myself for.

I swallow the lump that had formed in my throat as I bring the hand that I had resting on the table up to my neck, my fingers tracing the sensitive skin gently before I shakily sigh, laying my head down on the table as I hid my face in my arms - one of which was bent, holding onto my right shoulder while the other was laid across the table's surface.

I could feel his eyes...his steady gaze for just a moment, and even just the thought was enough to pick my heartbeat up.


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~~~ Time skip ~~~
(The king's pov)

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A soft, almost happy sigh joined the clicking of the shutting door - the small smile tugging my lips upward and a feeling of relief became prominent.

I walk closer to the desk near the back of the study, taking in the quiet walls of the residence.
It was peaceful - a sense of nearing silence my mind was more than happy to have in that moment after a full day of non-stop business talk and conversations.

"I take it you enjoyed the trip to the bakery?" Warner - who stood tall by the door - inquires in a monotone care of voice, and I chuckle softly, my eyes falling closed after a moment.

I pull out a small, golden trinket from my vest pocket, holding it up in front of me as I watch it dangle down with intrigued eyes.
"Very much so." I answer the male's question with careful words.
"My delicate flower really does care about this little thing, doesn't she."
My head tilts just a little as I bring the watch closer to my chest, my fingers tracing its surface in a way similiar to someone trying to find every scratch that time and use would've gave it.

I laugh to myself, a child-like smile on my face as I shake my head and place the small item back into my pocket - a place, that for now, I knew would be safe.

"Did you see her today? The poor thing was so tired." My words were kept soft - just between those occupying the quaint room.
My hands take off my crown with ease, placing it on the desk as I bite my lip, my shoulders falling just enough to show my overworking thoughts.
"She's so innocent...and peaceful when she sleeps." My voice falters as the small smile falls away from my face, fading faster than sand slipping through to the bottom of an hourglass, and I look up to watch the back wall - my expression changing to a more serious, yet cautious one.
"Tell the soldiers to watch her more closely these next few days, just incase she's injured herself- there's no way she didn't hit her head, at least a little...the poor thing's more than likely going to bruise."
My voice softens, becoming stale with hidden worry. "And there's nothing I can do to help her...for now, at least."

"I'm certain she'll be fine- if she can stay out of trouble, that is." Warner speaks up, stepping closer as his hands clasp behind his back.

"I hated leaving her there." A more stern expression clouded my features, blocking out my worry.
"I can't stand suppressing my feelings for her, acting like she's just another female...not any longer." My tone wavers - becoming dry yet I swallow, shaking my head.

I needed to keep a clear head.

"My king, this girl has you wrapped around her finger."

I couldn't help but chuckle at my general's comment, my fingers tracing the top of my crown before I turn and look at him.
"Let us go over the plan one more time, we need to fix any small mistakes there may be and go over back up plans. We need to be thorough." My last words were careful, spoken slowly as if to put more emphasis on them.

Warner nods as he walks over to the window, drawing the curtains closed before walking behind the desk and pulling out one of the bottom drawers. His movements were quiet, his hands taking out a small box that he then set on the desk.
He pulls out a small key - one I entrusted with him - and unlocks it, opening the box to reveal a handfull of objects, papers; a small, brown leather book with a small latch on the front, and a rolled up scroll that sat on top of everything.

"Believe me, my king," he says clearly, his eyes flicking up to meet mine and his expression held a serious understanding. "if you're after this female, I'll make sure everything is perfect."

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