*Edited: Proofreading*
Word count: 4468
Special thanks to MeJauntingCar for requesting a small scene within this chapter, I hope you like it.^°^
Before we get into things I wanted to quickly say, this chapter (for both parts one and two/three) was requested by AbbyMeche a while back.
*Sadly, as mention in chapter fifty, I'm not able to link their profile as I believe it was deleted.*
But big thanks to them for requesting/loosely inspiring these next two or three chapters.
(I apologize for the picture not being the best, but this is what you'll be wearing- except for the small butterflies are white flowers.)
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~~~ November 20, 1777 ~~~
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The ruffling of fabric stood out to me as I waited silently behind the dressing screen - taking a stiff breath while trying not to wear my low laying, but steadily rising panic on my sleeve.
I thought I had prepared myself for today - with the help and encouragement from both Marion and George, yet here I was, a bundle of nerves.
Marion stood behind me, her steady hands and keen eyes making quick work of lacing up the back of my corset.
"Something's on your mind again." The blonde chimes and I glance over my shoulder as she gently pulls.
"Just...nerves I guess." I answer and she nods, pulling once again before she ties and tucks the ends under the bottom edge.
"I don't know, I know he's had his hiccups here and there but...George has been very gentle, kind, and he's done so much to care for and look after me."
I swallow as the sound of footsteps draw closer - Adelaide stopping by Marion's side as she tilts her head, a bundle of fabric draped over her arm.
"Thank you, dear." Marion says softly, taking the red hued fabric from her arms and dismissing her with a small nod.
The older woman's smile was kind, her tone matching the gentle concern in her eyes and my gaze falls to the floor as I had to admit she was right.
~~~
I stay silent as Marion helps me into the flowing dress, opting to linger in my thoughts.
The dress itself was smooth, the skirt made from layers of silky and sheer red fabrics decorated with small, pearl-like beads.
The bodice sat flush against my waist and chest, showing off my timid figure while the sleeves - that fell off my shoulders, were made from the same, bunched up material as the skirt and was peppered with white flower details with a single bead in the center.
A simple, golden chained necklace sat around my neck - a small ruby hanging in the middle and resting on my chest.
I lift my head, staring at the wall.
"What about a letter?" I mumble and Marion, who was fixing the flower shaped pins in my loosely curled hair, pauses.
"Pardon?" She asks and I turn to look back at her.
"A letter." I repeat in an unsure tone. "I got to thinking how I might be able to write to Leia soon. What if we sent my family a letter, one to tell them I'm alright. If we did surely they would come to get me."
I clasp my hands by my abdomen, my lips tempting to turn up into a smile and I watch Marion's expression - her brow raised as she took in my newest thought.
After a moment she shakes her head, sighing to herself.
"My dear child-"
"Surely it could work." I cut her off and pinch my thumb, nodding as I continue, "Marion if I do, my family needn't worry about my health- they'd know I was alright and I know they'd inform General Washington."
The backs of my heels click together - my tone holding a sense of optimism.
"Little one- you mustn't jump into things." Marion speaks up, as if it were some sort of warning.
"You have to realize that it will take time, and that's even if you're able to send one."
"But I can write it myself- I'm sure I can find a way to explain everything while still keeping George in everyone's good graces." I say back, "All I'd need is someone to send it for me, you or one of the maids- no one will have to find out. I mean it shouldn't be that hard."
Marion takes a breath, yet it was more stiff - her expression one I couldn't read as she shakes her head.
"Child. It will take time, not only for you to figure out what to say but for it to get there. At the very least two months there and back- and that's not counting the time it will take for your family to read and prepare for whatever they choose to do." She explains. "So that's still almost five or even six months. You'd be married by then."
"But- what if I can convince George to move the wedding?" I ask a little too quickly and the older woman frowns.
"How? There's no believable reason to- I thought you two were starting to see eye to eye, you've been getting along quite well." She comments and I shake my head, pinching my thumb as I swallow.
"I know, at least I believe we have, it's just- Marion there has to be something, a reason why we'd have to move the wedding." I protest, stepping closer to the female.
"Child-"
"We have to try Marion," my tone was borderline pleading with her. "it could work. I could go home and his majesty wouldn't have to take any of the blame-"
"(Y/n)."
My voice falters at her more firm, yet still somewhat soft tone - one I had never heard before.
Her brow was furrowed and my expression shifts to a more closed off and timid one, a small exhale a breath greeting the room.
"Listen, I understand what you're trying to say, really I do. But for now I need you to drop the subject."
"But-"
"Child." She says like a motherly figure reprimanding their offspring in a gentle way. "You're getting flighty again, stressing yourself out and right now you don't need that."
I glance at the hand she places on my shoulder, her touch warm.
"I assure you, we'll...try and go over this at a later time, but for now I need you to forget about it."
I swallow, watching her eyes closely before I turn my gaze away.
"I'm here for you, you just need to trust me."
I meekly nod after a moment and she smiles, brushing my bangs away from my face as three swift knocks sound from the door.
Without another word she places her hand on the small of my back, leading me out from behind the dressing screen while adjusting small sections of my hair.
I take notice of Adelaide, who stood next to the bed and I nod to her as Marion stops by the door.
"Marion, I'm scared." I mumble as she offers me a kind smile.
"You'll do just fine, and if you need me I'll be there doing my tasks, you're more than welcome to come find me."
She opens the door in a swift motion and I take a breath, looking up to see the king and his two top generals standing behind him.
A smile almost immediately graces his features, his signature, royal red-hued and gold trimmed outfit sharp, showing off his power and authority, yet sat in contrast with the gentle blue of his eyes.
"You look as breathtaking as ever, my sweet flower." The king compliments and a blush rises on my cheeks as I nod shyly.
"Thank you." I respond in kind, "A-as do you."
"Before we set off, I know you don't do well with large crowds- that you're still nervous, but I wanted to tell you that everything will be alright."
"I know," I say, smoothing down my dress skirt as I glance back at the blonde, who stood a little ways behind me with the same genuine smile. "Marion and yourself will be there if anything were to happen. Thank you, for the encouragement though."
George nods, holding out his hand towards me and I take it, stepping closer as a warm arm is wrapped around my waist, the king keeping me by his side as we walk down the hall.
"Do you remember what we've gone over?"
His question made my smile falter and I glance up to see him looking straight ahead - Warner and Ainsworth following behind us.
"The rules?"
"Well, I wouldn't say rules, just precautions." The king smiles.
A meek nod gives the male my silent response and I watch the floor.
"I'm not to tell anyone about my kidnapping, or go to anyone for help and I'm to act like everything's alright." My voice was softer, showing some sense of saddened unease.
"It shouldn't be too hard, but if anyone is to ask 'I'm just nervous.'"
I take a breath as the male rubs my side with his thumb.
"Warner and Ainsworth will be keeping an eye on me along with the other soldiers around the room- watching me from time to time for both my safety, and to make sure I'm not causing any trouble. And I'm not allowed to leave the ballroom without one of your generals present."
"Good." George smiles, holding me closer. "And remember to ignore my mother, there's a high chance she's not going to try anything too drastic, but if she does Warner will intervene and bring you to me, alright."
"Do you have any advice? You know her the best." I respond, looking up at the male with nervous features, to which he reassures me with a smile.
"Be yourself, show her she doesn't intimidate you. If she says anything brash it's more than likely just to see your reaction, how easily you can keep it together. I wouldn't worry, my dear, Warner will be watching out for you if I'm not there, he knows her pretty well so he'll know when to step in."
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~~~ Small time skip ~~~
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The king and I had been greeting guests for a while, ranging from hoity-toity high class men and women, different members of parliament, and many others of varying personalities, appearances, and statuses.
The grand ballroom was elegantly decorated, from lavish flowers placed around the room in an ornate fashion. The chandelier, floors, and windows had been polished and shined along with the dishware that had decorated the top of a white covered table tucked near the wall - each filled with small treats and a tower of neatly arranged glasses of champagne.
It was quite lively, bustling with people's indistinguishable conversations and laughter - men and women standing or walking to different places, each in different hues and styles of dresses or suits, with matching accessories in the hair or on their person.
George had remained his same, confident and caring self - taking the time to talk to each person for a small bit, and had always made sure that they felt included.
He made it look easy, and had some of his confidence rubbing off on myself.
But, I knew the time I had been dreading was coming to pass when George placed a caring hand on my shoulder, his smile one that reassured my frantic mind and I took a small, unknowing step closer to the male, watching as the large oak doors opened smoothly, the room piping down as if everyone instinctively knew who stood on the other side.
"Presenting," Seabury speaks up, his voice loud and crystal clear, one of calm authority and one you didn't hear too often from the male.
His arm outstretches to his side, gesturing to the figure of a tall and very nicely dressed woman in silver.
"Her royal highness, Princess Augusta of Saxe-Gotha!"
The male then bows out of respect, staying that way until the older woman passes, her silver train of fabric following behind her calculated and calm steps.
Her head was held high, her expression distant and more cold than I would've liked to imagine.
I squeeze my clasped hands, keeping my feet planted firmly where they were as I watch the people in the room bow and curtsy; her heels - though soft, clicking loudly in my head.
She walks up the stairs, stopping in front of George and I.
The male by my side bows to her, and I calmly follow suit with a fluent curtsy, lowering my head before we straighten and she nods.
Her skin was pale, painted with shades of pearlescent white and silver, her lips a gentle red that was a few shades darker than the faded blush on her cheeks.
Her hair was done up in curls, sitting high and was decorated with small pins that matched her silver hued dress.
It was elegant to say the least, with bows and an overcoat that led to the train behind her frame, her bodice was slim, snug and made her hourglass figure look sleek - her sleeves covering her neckline with a chiffon type fabric, showing the outline of her arms and stopped at the elbow where fabric dangled below.
"Mother. I would like you to formal meet my future wife, (y/n)." George greets and I study her expression with kind eyes, yet I couldn't tell if her cold gaze was more stern than Warner's as he watched from behind us.
"Your highness." I try to say with as much confidence as I could muster, yet my voice wavers just enough for her to raise a seemingly unamused brow - the music and chatter from the ballroom begins to pick up once more.
"So," she starts, her voice calm and monotone. I smile. "you're the baker. I must say, you're not what I imagined you to be, though, you do have a natural beauty to you- such kind features and a gentle frame."
She comments, her eyes looking me over and I go to speak up, to thank her, but before I even inhale a breath she continues.
"But, in the end how far will that pretty face get you?" She questions, as if to herself and I step forward.
"With all due respect, your highness," my voice was clear, yet more calm than the nerves that I kept hidden on the inside. "all a pretty face will get me or anyone else is praise. If I want to earn a person's respect, I must do so with honest words and genuine hard work." I take a small breath - feeling proud of my careful comeback.
"Your compliment is appreciated; you yourself are quite beautiful- and George has told me you are musical talented, that you taught him the piano." I smile, taking a small step forward.
"You should be proud, he plays with such elegance, he's quite talented."
"Indeed. Do you play?" She asks, her words slow and I shyly shake my head.
"Sadly, no. My family couldn't afford a piano." I say, trying to maintain my confidence while focusing more on the warm and gentle hand on the small of my back.
I keep the smile on my face, squeezing my clasped hands.
"But, when I was younger my family and I would have these little, make-shift shows; we'd make instruments from things we could find around the house." I smile, hearing George softly chuckle and she nods slowly, remaining silent for a moment.
"Like pots and pans?" She questions and I nod.
"How...charming."
"George has mentioned teaching me, how to play that is." I add quickly, stopping myself from fiddling with my fingers.
"Lovely." She says with a smile and tone that didn't match her emotions.
"Well, I'd love to chat, but later perhaps. Farewell, for now."
Without another word she turns, walking down the stairs as her dress shimmered, the fabric flowing with her graceful movements and I exhale, my smile more nervous than before.
"That...that wasn't so bad." I say, looking to George for reassurance and he smiles as I turn to face him.
"You did quite well; now, I recall more than a few people having mentioned wanting to save a dance for a certain maiden I know." He comments, placing a hand on my waist.
"I want you to go have your fun, just stay in line, be yourself," he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers grazing my temple. "and save the last dance for me, will you, my dear?"
I nod, placing my hands on his chest as I stand on my toes, leaving a small kiss on the male's cheek.
"As you wish."
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~~~ Time skip ~~~
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The elegant, light piano was prominent through the arrangement of different instruments - each joining in to play their part in an uplifting piece that fluttered through the ballroom and intertwined with guests laughter, their conversations, and with those who were gracefully dancing in pairs of two.
I, much like many other men and women at the event, had been quite occupied with various activities - from dancing to the different, classical songs, to pushing my nerve-stricken way through many conversations; all on differing subjects.
The ballroom was quite lively, to say the least - and to an outsider, one might have the thought I was being foolish by not creating a scene that would catch the attention of others; something that George wouldn't have seen coming and something that would send me home.
But there was a small thought holding me back.
Punishment. Shame to his name — and I couldn't have that.
I didn't want that.
The conversation emanating from the close group of people around me was prominent, their different voices and tones of laughter mixing together and dragging me out of my thoughts as I inhale and pinch my thumb.
I had to get my mind off the subject, before I did anything rash.
With the clearing of my throat I look down at my hands, and then up at the faces of the people in front of me, only growing more solemn.
I felt a bit down, a sense of guilt nipping at the back of my mind as I kept one new thought in a dazed focus.
'Save a dance for George.'
That's mainly all he wanted tonight, a simple dance.
The two of us together, with our focus on nothing aside from the other person in our embrace.
I wouldn't forget that.
I couldn't forget that...
I turn my gaze to look over my shoulder, not really looking for anything imparticular, until I take notice of a silky red jacket, worn by a tall male who stood out from the rest in his own, discreet way.
The king.
He had made everything look easy, and although I hadn't spent much time with him since the evening's festivities had started, I could tell he was still just as busy - my occasional glances towards and finding of the royal usually ending with him talking to high class - and from what I assumed, important people.
His distant profile was sharp, yet still full of a genuine care and interest during another one of his now many conversations; his hand - which was at an angle by his abdomen, was holding a tall and thin glass of champagne, one he slowly swirled.
But, what caught more of my attention was the two women who stood at his front, their red painted lips moving to form words I couldn't hear.
On their cheeks rested a blush - the two of them wearing similar dresses and hairstyles; one a pale green hue of multiple layers and details, while the other a rich maroon peppered with bows of matching fabric and sleeves that stopped at the elbows.
They were both quite pretty, and looked rather kind - their matching, dark brown hair done up in curled buns atop their heads, held in place by pins and each strand placed neatly.
Their eyes were a color I couldn't make out, though their faces and frames were slender - with high cheekbones, delicate hands, and an hourglass figure brought out more by the dresses that hugged their pale skin.
They laugh, one placing a hand over her bodice and my gaze flicks back to the king, a new emotion stirring below my dazed gaze.
My brow knits in thought as I hide the surprised look that tempted to cross my features and I swallow, looking away.
"If you'll all excuse me, please." I speak up, giving the group of people a small curtsy before turning, not waiting for a vocal response - my eyes land on the king once again, with certain unease, as if I were trying to read his expression more thoroughly or what he could've been saying that was seemingly so humorous.
I shake my head as I exhale, smoothing down my dress with slow movements and a newfound emotion pulls at my heart, wanting to be realized and I couldn't help but squeeze the first layer of the skirt's fabric.
Surely I couldn't be feeling like this, now or at all?
I couldn't be feeling this way about him, nothing was happening between them and —
I shake my head again, my denial failing to persist and I look up, watching the male's features with an almost pained expression.
Was I really feeling an underlying jealousy?
I push away my frightened look and the thoughts that followed it as I force my grip to loosen, my hands falling to my sides - mind overwhelmed with unexpected emotions and a bombardment of thoughts and futile explanations —
I was just tired.
Surely I had to have been.
I take a slow, uneven breath and turn on my heel, making my way to the back of the room and the tall, floor length panes of glass doors and windows lining the wall.
With small steps I navigate my way through the crowd of people, my gaze attempting to find one person in a sea of others.
Fresh air.
My newest goal was quite simple.
I just needed a breather, a few minutes away from the enchanting chaos.
But first, I needed Warner to accompany me.
A familiar, haughty voice suddenly chimes from behind me - having said words I didn't catch and I exhale as I look over my shoulder - as if waiting to see something hiding amongst the seemingly non-existent shadows of the room, before a feeling of distant dread creeps in.
The silver dressed woman adorned with silk now stood in front of me with a certain level of grace, her arm bent at an angle and resting by her hip as her narrowed eyes looked me over.
"Your highness," I say and my voice wavers with hidden unease as I plaster a small smile on my face. "however may I be of assistance?"
Her smile was tight-lipped and she hums in response, her head tilted to the side as her eyes shift to gaze upon the room's guests.
"It's quite the party, is it not?" She breathes, and I clasp my hands together as she rubs her left hand's forefinger and thumb - like she were separating pieces of parchment.
"I assume you're having your fair share of fun?"
My eyes shift up to her face - her eyes connecting with mine and I meekly nod before fixing my facade of confidence with a kind smile and my head held a little higher.
"Of course. And I assume you're enjoying yourself as well?" I phrase a simple question and she barely moves her head to nod, a sigh greeting her lips as her hand falls to her side.
"Headed to the gardens then, are you?" She asks, catching me by slight surprise and I fail to nod for a moment.
"W-well, I suppose I was about to." I say in an awkward response and she gives me one silent chuckle, her frame gliding passed me.
"Come." She says simply and I shake my head, turning as I hold a hand over my abdomen.
"What?" I ask and she stops, looking back at me with a raised brow.
"I'm asking you to join me."
Her tone was flat and I swallow, my expression shy and uneasy.
"In the garden?" I ask, glancing to my side to look along the wall for any sign of a certain general standing by, and the female's dry chuckle makes my gaze snap back to hers moments later.
"Where else?" She says, calming resting her elbow on her hip.
"Now, I'm hoping I won't have to ask you again."