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𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐎 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐘. thirty-six. introduction. — google doc. 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐋 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆. thirty-two. introduction. — google doc.

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@prcsperous
𝐏𝐑𝐂𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒; a dependent mumu blog for seasonsfm by bee (twenty-seven, aest/aedt).
𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐎 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐘. thirty-six. introduction. — google doc. 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐋 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆. thirty-two. introduction. — google doc.

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@esctcric
augustus had waited until alphonse was mid-sip before he said it. "prince darius came to call. as did the princess of wales." he let that sit for a moment. "you were, i noted, nowhere to be found on either occasion." he reached for his own cup with the unhurried composure of a man delivering a report. "i begin to think you are going about this matchmaking enterprise entirely the wrong way. if the princes come to blows again at the next engagement, i would suggest positioning yourself closer to the fray. the royal family appears very grateful afterward." he looked at alphonse over the rim of his cup. "perhaps one of the princesses would take a liking to you."
⚲ location : the zhao residence in london. ↬ with : colonel augustus stirling ( @prcsperous ).
time, like most everything else of late, seemed to be slipping through her fingers and nearly a week had passed since the disastrous garden party when the princess of wales finally managed to sit and dedicate an hour to call upon the colonel at his current residence. usually, caroline would demand that the journey be made to carlton house, as it was her right as princess to be provided such comforts, but as augustus was the one inconvenienced by the display between the two princes, she found it only proper to humble herself and cross the short distance between the alderidge and zhao residences in mayfair, accompanied only by her private secretary and her maid. it did not seem as though she was expected, judging by the way that the servants hastened up the staircase to call augustus down, or the thundering footsteps that followed as the kitchen prepared a small spread of tea and cakes for her impromptu visit, and caroline found herself faintly amused by it all, even as the colonel appeared at the door to the sitting room. rising from where she had been seated by the window, caroline strode forward to interrupt whatever greeting he was about to utter by grasping at his hands. ❝ augustus. ❞ overly familiar, perhaps ? they had both been children when adelaide passed ─ she remembered dancing with him at the wedding and squeezing his hand when their families sat next to each other during the funeral. ❝ colonel stirling ... forgive me, i should have come to visit sooner. ❞ her gaze trailed over his features, searching for injury. ❝ were you greatly hurt by the quarrel ? oh, i should have sent the physician over to check on you as well. ❞ she stomped her foot slightly, irritated at her own oversight.
he had been given approximately forty seconds of warning, which was enough to make it downstairs and not enough to do anything useful about his appearance. the eye was what it was. the cane was not going anywhere. he had straightened his coat and decided that would have to suffice. he had not expected her to take his hands. he had not expected, if he was honest, to feel fourteen again quite so immediately. caroline, who had squeezed his hand at the funeral with the gravity of a child who understood that something had gone permanently wrong. he looked at her for a moment before he found words. "your royal highness." gently, with some deference. then, because she had called him augustus first: "you need not have come at all. the honour is entirely mine." he glanced down at his own face, as though he might somehow assess it from the inside. "the eye is the worst of it and it is improving. the leg is," a pause, "pre-existing." he said it before she could add it to her list of oversights. "please do not trouble the physician on my account. i have had worse and the zhaos have been very attentive." he looked at her properly then, with something that was neither quite formality nor quite the warmth of old acquaintance, but somewhere in the narrow space between. "it is good to see you. truly."
" i appreciate the reassurance . i did not think you were a lurker , colonel , nor do you seem to be the type to lurk — unless i am mistaken , " seoyeon cleared her throat . truth be told , she was more terrified of someone seeing her outside unchaperoned than the man in front of her . femme held her head high and yet her hands were clutched together nervously . it wasn't the dark or the fact that seoyeon still did not know her way around london she was scared , she was more terrified of the perception and judgement if she were to be found out . still , despite the baron covenhall's home being lovely , at times it felt ... suffocating . " i ... i like to walk . " she blurted out , looking at her hands . " but only when the streets are quiet , " she continued . “ it allows for a certain … clarity of mind . ” her gaze flickered toward the dim stretch of road ahead before returning to him , throat cleared — something she often did when we was nervous . " though i am aware that is not a habit often encouraged. " a faint , wry tone crept into her voice . " are you off somewhere , colonel ? i do not wish to keep you . "
"you are not keeping me," he spoke quietly. "i was going nowhere in particular." which was true. the circuit had no destination, only the virtue of being preferable to standing still. he looked at the stretch of road she had glanced toward, then back at her. a young woman who liked quiet streets and clarity of mind and had the wry good sense to acknowledge the impropriety of it herself. "i also walk," he said, after a moment. "when the leg permits." he glanced down the road. whatever his feelings on london and its social machinery, there were some things that did not require deliberation. an unaccompanied young woman on a dark street was not a situation a man of any decency walked away from. "i would offer to accompany you. on the understanding that i did not see you leave that door, and you did not see me standing at this railing, and we are simply two people who happen to be walking in the same direction." he looked at her. "if that would suit."
she comes here for the pelicans. the orange-legged ducks too. that's what she'd tell to anyone bold enough to question her intentions that are never entirely pure. it's her paradise, under embroidered parasols, right by the water clear enough to reflect her visage when the sun hits its zenith. then of course, there's food. prepped and readied, arranged inside of a basket at her behest. jellies, tarts, cucumber sandwiches, sugar plums, candied dates, topped of course with fresh fruit, upon which helena always insists. apples, though certainly not in season, have turned into her latest obsession, and so, she had to have them, at any cost, as every woman should.
company, however, much like sweets and dry champagne, she could never refuse. “ not at all. ” leaving no room for doubt, she beckons him to sit right beside her, the intention itself highlighted by the way she swiftly pulls the basket filled with decadent cakes and fruits closer to herself. “ join me in sin, ” says eve to adam, her mouth half full, dangling an apple before him. “ for these apples are too sweet. would you like one? ”
augustus looked at the apple. looked at the woman offering it. looked at the apple again. "i appreciate the theology," he said, settling onto the bench with considerably more caution than adam had managed in the original account, "though i note it did not end especially well for either party." he considered the apple for a moment longer, with the expression of a man performing a risk assessment. "i will take one," he said. "thank you." he did not elaborate on what had changed his mind. the leg was aching and she had candied dates and the morning had already been strange enough that an apple from a stranger seemed, on balance, unremarkable.

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The early morning hours, she'd long since found, were ideal for her sketchings. She didn't know if it was to do with the quality of light, as dawn inched into high morning sun, or if something in the life cycles of plants and insects and small birds favored this time of day, but as someone interested in such things, she'd noted the pattern of it. St. James' Park, of course -- though as countrified as the city ever got -- was not the country, it was true, so its native creatures, it seemed, were the rarer, but it was also a new environment, and that meant that many of the plants and animals she now studied, she had not seen before.
Eleanora had taken note, this morning, of a variety of rose she'd not yet seen. Her pen was frantic, eyes forward turned, flicking from petal to page in a flurry, as she strove to commit every detail to paper. So absorbed was she in her work, in fact, that she failed to notice a man with a cane walking down the lane, failed to note him stopping just before the bench where she was even now ensconced, failed to realize she was anything but perfectly alone, till she heard a voice quite close to her.
Jumping, slightly, she put her hand to her mouth and laughed. "Oh, forgive me, I wish I could tell you I'm generally quite observant, but I'd only be perjuring myself most fearfully. But please--" quickly, she reached out and gathered her reticule from where it sat beside her, and into her lap, that he might assume the spot beside her. "Do sit. I should like the company. I fear I've run dry of topics which might entertain a rose," she jested, putting away her pen, and beginning to fan her drawing, in the hopes of the ink drying more quickly (she didn't know if her efforts were truly helpful but...they felt helpful at the very least, and that alone made it worth doing in her mind). "I think a human companion is very much in order."
Something occurring to her, then, she added, "Oh, might I say -- it was splendid what you did at the garden party, stepping in and helping Their Highnesses --" she bit her lip, glanced away trying to find a polite euphemism for ending a brawl. "Regain their composure. Though, I think you will forgive me for saying that I do hope you won't be called upon for such services any time in the near future." Despite herself, she smiled. "Though who's to say when royalty are coming to blows in garden labyrinths over tea. I've been away from town for some time, but I must say, its all rather more...rowdy than I had recollected. Do you imagine the rest of the season will prove just as...uppity?"
augustus settled onto the bench with the careful economy of a man managing several complaints at once and disinclined to advertise any of them. he glanced at the rose she had been sketching, then at the page. she had caught it well. "the rose made for a more demanding subject, i suspect," he said. "i would not take the distraction personally." the garden party arrived with the inevitability of something he had been expecting since she looked at him properly. "instinct," he said, simply. "seventeen years in a regiment. one develops certain reflexes." his leg had a view on that particular characterisation which he did not share. "uppity is generous." he paused. "i had been given to understand the season was a relatively civilised affair. i am revising that opinion." he glanced at her sketchbook. "what brought you back to town? i hope for something more compelling than the promise of good entertainment in the form of the princes trading blows."
it has never been common for royalty to take accountability. and while there is still much more for DARIUS HANOVER to apologize for, he stands before AUGUSTUS STIRLING, grimace painting face. // @prcsperous
"i do hope it doesn't feel as horrible as it appears." it's quite the shiner, and worse than what darius received on his face despite bearing the brunt of charles' punches. the prince sighs, shuffling on his feet for a moment. "i'm sorry, my friend. your attempt to stop us was valiant, and we should've heeded your words instead of ---- well. ignoring you."
"it has looked worse," augustus said, which was not entirely true but was the sort of thing one said. he regarded darius for a moment with the even expression of a man who had arrived at acceptance about the whole affair, more or less. "your highness." he paused, unable to move his mouth to address the prince in any less dignified manner. "i appreciate the sentiment. i have broken up more raucous disputes in a regiment. perhaps why i dove headfirst into yours." a short silence. "lady whistledown, at least, seems thoroughly delighted by it. which i imagine is its own particular consequence." he glanced at darius then, with something more direct. "are you well? you took rather more of it than i did."
the exhibition halls of the royal academy, in the gallery of portraits feat. augustus stirling ( @prcsperous )
it had been more than a full year since she stood under the roof of the royal academy, and despite her lack of artistic skills, wendy had been a faithful patron ever since her debut in society. the galleries are certainly quieter than the crowded gardens or tea shops, and when one is merely a guest in an acquaintance's home and not inhabiting in a house of one's own — quiet is a well sought after commodity. the baroness was admiring the portrait of the late princess augusta — a distant relative of the king — when she noted the presence of a person beside her. " one rarely expects to encounter a royal relation quite so openly observed, although i suppose it is the use of such portraits. . . " wendy threw the man a small smile, eyes lifting from the portrait to appraise the unfamiliar figure, only to realise a moment later who exactly the man was. " to divert scrutiny from the person herself, that is. "
after all, it was difficult to forget the face of the man who had inserted himself into a royal brawl. whistledown had supplied the name for her to attach to the face. " i do not believe we have been formally introduced, colonel stirling. i am gwendoline st. clair, dowager baroness granville. "
"a use it performs admirably," augustus said, with a glance toward the late princess augusta, who did look rather more approachable in oil than royalty tended to manage in person. he had come for the quiet, mostly. the academy had struck him as a reasonable alternative to the park on a leg that was not cooperating, and portraiture required nothing of a person beyond standing still and looking. he turned toward the baroness as she offered her name, and noted, with the particular composure of a man who had been recognised twice this week by people he had never met, that she had known his before he gave it. "baroness granville." a small bow of his head. "colonel augustus stirling." a beat. "it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"no, nor i," yu jie laughs brightly. the whistledown of ten years prior was a ruthless thing — though she had gone relatively unscathed, flying under her notice as a married woman at the time. "i am curious to see her recount of events however." she eyes the captain curiously, prying into his guarded composure. hating to be called a gossip, but terribly nosy, "i had heard the princes had been involved in some ruckus, though i cannot say i was witness to it." she had hoped to read about it, but still her palms were empty. "did you catch what proceeded it?"
"some of it," augustus said, with the air of a man choosing his words the way a surgeon chooses an instrument. lady church was looking at him in that particular way, he was certain she knew what happened, and was waiting only for confirmation. the eye was, he was aware, not helping. he took a quiet sip of tea and set the cup down with great composure. "there was a disagreement. it escalated." a pause. "rather quickly."
There has always been a beautiful peace of reading at the park during this hour. How warm and the gentle the morning light was as it cascaded over the trees and the pond, the sound of the waking birds singing their birdsong, and how the unpredictable future of the day was filled with excitement instead of fear after such a lovely morning. Beren has taken to coming to St. James Park more and more recently as a way to gain some respite from the chaos of life as of late. It was deeply needed, especially as it offered her the chance to either think or quiet her thoughts through reading.
Though she was quite surprise as a voice rang out to her. Jolting ever so slightly, she looked up at the colonel with a gentle smile. "Oh—no, please, do sit. I hold no objections." Gesturing to the spot beside her, Beren moved aside to offer more space. "I must admit, I am quite glad to know I am not the only one who enjoys the park at this hour. It's quite peaceful, is it not?"
"it is," augustus said, settling onto the bench with less grace than he would have preferred and rather more reliance on the cane than he generally liked to advertise. "peaceful" was perhaps the thing he had come for without quite naming it as such. he looked out toward the pond for a moment. the light was doing something agreeable to the water. "i had forgotten that about it." he had been fourteen the last time london had felt like somewhere worth being in the mornings. that was not something he intended to say aloud. "forgive the interruption," he added, with a glance toward her book. "i had not anticipated company either."

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the older man chuckled at the thought , and it only showed him that siblings were the same in every house . his , the stirlings , the hanovers . “ i was with him recently at white's , we spoke briefly of your hosts ; the zhaos . lady cavendish is treating you well , right ? i know her little , but she seems generous . ” at least he now had two excuses to visit the household had he ever the need to meet with the woman . his in-laws .
"she has been very kind," augustus said. "their whole family has." he left it there a moment. "i would have been perfectly content in the barracks. alphonse had other ideas." which covered it sufficiently without elaborating on the particulars. he glanced out across the grounds. "he did not mention he had seen you. i am not surprised." a beat. "he always did like you. he is a collector of sorts, i suppose."
XINYI ZHAO peaks into the family sun-room, finally catching AUGUSTUS STIRLING. she steps inside, holding a tray with a cool cloth, a bowl, and a pitcher of water. // @prcsperous
"forgive me for imposing, mister stirling." xinyi draws closer, setting the tray on the table. "but i wanted to check to see if i can assist with your eye? it still seems quite swollen."
"miss zhao," he said, and then: "it is not as bad as it looks." which was what he had been telling everyone and which had not yet become more true through repetition. he glanced at the tray with the expression of a man who recognised he was not going to win this particular exchange and was calculating how much dignity he could preserve in the losing of it. "you did not have to do that." which was not a refusal. he shifted to make room at the table, because there was no graceful way to send a woman away when she had already carried a tray across the house on his behalf.
he glances at rafael sidelong. "i was navigating a princess to safety," he says, evenly. "though i am far more interested in discussing dark hair and shadow. anything you would like to share, or shall i wait for the next issue?"
" i, too, was navigating someone to safety. " sevda durmaz was safe in his embrace! was she not? same difference. " though, mine was not a princess. i am afraid your story stands to be more interesting, brother. " it did not matter if emilio was providing the truth or not. he would not pry further not wanting to be examined himself. " as long as your wife does not care, why should you or the ton! " he meant to sound encouraging.
open to all; st. james park
the morning had seemed like a reasonable idea at the time. the park was quieter before the promenade hour and his leg wanted movement more than rest, which the surgeons had said and which he had chosen to believe because the alternative was another afternoon at a window. he walked at a pace that was not quite his own, cane taking more weight than usual, and if his left eye was somewhat less open than his right he had decided not to raise the subject with anyone who had not raised it first. he had not, however, accounted for the bench being occupied. he stopped a few feet short of it, assessed the situation, and concluded that standing was becoming a less attractive option by the minute. "i don't suppose," he said, to whoever was sitting there, "you would object to sharing."
a satisfied nod followed the now ― in his eyes ― appropriate way for gus to address him , even after so long since they'd last spoken . “ i cannot tell if london being such an inert and never-changing force is a good or a bad thing . ” bernard knew its ways like the palm of his hand , but it didn't make navigating social seasons any less irritating . he much preferred winters , when most kept to themselves in their countryside homes and marriage wasn't brought up every five minutes . “ only in appearance . mentally , i feel older than i truly am . ” he joked . “ perfect ! i shall have the cooks prepare your favourites . i have been well . as you said , london is london . ”
"only in appearance," augustus repeated, with something that was almost a smile. "i know the feeling." he did not elaborate. he looked out across the grounds, the season in full performance around them, everyone thoroughly occupied with being seen, and felt something settle that had not quite settled in some time. "i am glad we are both here," he said, and heard how it sounded, and added: "alphonse will be insufferable about the dinner. i thought you ought to have some warning."

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𝙖𝙩 𝙜𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧'𝙨 𝙩𝙚𝙖 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚, 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙡.
letters from her son always left yu jie with shame bubbling in her stomach, feeling terrible for the distance she demanded between them. griffin, who she once adored, was a stranger to her at his large age of five and ten. though, the lady church found that the taste of guilt was masked easily with her favourite blend of tea and a spot of gossip.
"i must admit," yu jie starts, lowering her marigold cup to its matching saucer, "i am rather surprised our dear lady whistledown has yet to publish her thoughts on the excitement of the garden party."
augustus had been of the opinion that lady whistledown would get there eventually. these things had a way of finding their way onto the page regardless of how many people would have preferred they didn't. "i imagine," he said, with the measured calm of a man who had a personal interest in the answer, "she is simply building anticipation." he lifted his own cup. the eye was not invisible in this light, which he was aware of, and lady church was the sort of woman who noticed things. "or she is being uncharacteristically considerate." a pause. "i would not wager on the latter."
"I quite agree, Mr. Castelo -- it may not be ordinary, but neither is our situation. I am delighted to make your acquaintance," declared the young woman, bobbing the requisite curtsy. "Lady Eversmere.
"Ahh, you see, there is hope for us, yet!" she proclaimed, laughing softly. "If not by sense of direction, then by reason, alone, we have proven ourselves worthy of the challenge, I do believe. Perhaps, then, let us start down this first untried route you have indicated?"
Grinning at his bemused reaction, Eleanora laughed. "I must commend your priorities, sir, as well as, I think, your courage in the face of the extremity of our situation," she japed. "I confess, I am of your opinion in that matter, as well. I believe I might find myself in something of a quandary, in truth, upon the third -- risk losing myself forever in the hedges -- or gain something else entirely which might alleviate altogether different circumstances in life? It is not an easy question to answer. Would you, Mr. Castelo, regard asking for an infinite number of wishes as an honorable request, or do you regard that as a scandalous hoodwink of an honest sorcerer?"
"lady eversmere," he returns, with an inclination of his head mid-stride. "an infinite number of wishes," he considers, with the full gravity the question deserves, "sits in uncomfortable territory. the spirit of the arrangement is three. one feels the sorcerer would have opinions, and strong ones at that." they turn down the untried route, the hedgerow pressing close on either side, and he keeps his pace measured, the kind of man who does not rush a problem simply because it is inconvenient. "though i suspect the truly clever approach is to wish for something that renders the remaining wishes unnecessary." a brief glance at her. "a single wish of sufficient precision, in other words, rather than three of moderate ambition." he considers the path ahead. "the difficulty being that precision requires knowing exactly what one wants, which most people find considerably harder than it sounds." the hedgerow opens slightly, and he slows, assessing. "as for the third wish and your quandary," he says, almost conversationally, "i would argue that remaining in the maze indefinitely has a certain appeal in theory and very little in practice. which perhaps answers the question without requiring a wish at all." a glance at her, something briefly, genuinely amused. "what circumstances, if i may ask, did you have in mind for the alternative?"