ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵖʰᵉᶜʸ

caroline found that she did not quite like the look of pity ( was it pity ? or was it commiseration that their lives were set upon paths that promised little chance of happiness ? ) in his eyes, focusing her attention instead on the shrubbery to bear some semblance of distraction from the way her arm remained tucked against his side in a small, comforting gesture. pride was the only thing left to her and she clung to it fiercely, even among her family ─ especially among her family, whose expectations had always been high for the only alderidge daughter. ❝ ... it does bring me some comfort to know that you are trying. i will try to guide mother from you whenever possible ─ perhaps by directing her to the young ladies mentioned by lady whistledown ? ❞ she would not be his sister if she did not tease, even if there was a measure of truth to her words. caroline could not help but pity the young women of the ton but not even pity would prompt her to stand in the way of the marchioness of elingwood. ❝ honestly ? ❞ her cheeks flushed slightly at the mention of the refreshments table. ❝ i am mortified ... i tried to stand to walk over to charles and darius but then the first punch was thrown ... ❞ and caroline had felt it as though she had been punched, air leaving her lungs in sheer disbelief. in the chaos of it all, she had stumbled back into the table, though reports of her flipping it over were certainly entertaining. ❝ being fought over by princes is much more appealing when it is written in romance books ... the reality is much messier. ❞

words by wolf alice

"Good," replied the Marchioness with an ironic twang as she began to sip her tea. "It would be a pity were you to waste away and leave me all alone with only men for company." There was, she supposed, Matilda, but though the girl was family to everyone else she held dear -- she was no relation of Athénaïs', whatsoever. She paused, sighed. "You know, I do rely upon you, darling." It was as sentimental as Athénaïs ever seemed to be.

At her daughters' colorful suggestion, Athénaïs chuckled. "If you think that will help then, by all means -- yes, you should." She exhaled, looking her flushed daughter up and down. It was hardly a comfortable subject for mother and daughter to pursue, but Athénaïs was a direct woman, and she men to have this conversation. No embarrassment would put her off. "Darling, no one can doubt in your beauty or charms but -- you must do whatever it takes to entice him. Your husband's scandals are brandished for all the ton to read in these filthy scandal rags. That he is dissolute and dissipated, however, are not matters with which you can afford yet to concern yourself. You must invite him every night to your bed until you are with child. Then, by all means, bar your door every night, but for the time being, it seems you are the sole responsible party in this house, and I am afraid that means doing things which may prove onerous. Besides, my dear, I assure you, that your child will prove as great a comfort to you as your husband may prove a disappointment." She sipped her tea, put it down again, and with a calm mien added. "I know of what I speak."

The marchioness let out a long breath. Well she knew her child, and she saw the little fretwork of anxieties that marched over her face. She saw, too, the echo of her husband's looks looming over her. Whatever troubles Athénaïs faced in her own marriage, tempting her husband into bed (indeed, he had proven a touch too eager to fall into any bed, as it turned out, she thought, unaware that Caroline was facing that demon, as well) had never proven an obstacle to her. "I see." The words were not unkind. Athénaïs rose from her seat across from her, came around the table between them, and sank into the sofa beside her. She took Caroline's cup from her, laid it upon the table and took her soft white hand in her own. "You are my child. You are every inch my child. Because of that, you are strong, but we are not, either of us, made of iron. You need not beg, darling. You can do better. You can bend." So saying, she gently curled her daughter's fingers into a fist and, reaching up, ran her fingers through her hair. "Men think they have all the power, hm? You must not prove them right -- only do not shatter their illusion, all at once. We women will know the truth. If you want something from a man, take it. It is as simple as letting him believe he has conquered, when you were the warrior all along."

She paused, tucking her daughter's hair behind her ear. "Now, tell me, has he rebuffed your...advances?" She arched a suggestive brow. "Repairing your marriage and providing an heir are not always the same thing. You need not be friends, after all, to conceive a child..."

whatever secrets that were kept between mother and daughter, there was no denying that the marchioness was experienced and knew well how to persuade caroline out of a sulk, whether she was a child of fourteen, pouting because she could not lower her hems yet, or a woman of thirty who was troubled with matters far greater than a desire to mature quicker. with a warm cup of tea cradled between her palms, caroline found herself longing for the simplicity of girlhood, when her chief concerns were selecting fine fabrics and convincing her brothers to take her out to promenade in the park against the wishes of their mother who could, even now, make her feel inexplicably small. perhaps the discomfort was because she had been withholding the truth from athénaïs ─ at first, it had been out of shame that she had not only failed to nurture a child to birth but also that she could not keep her husband devoted to their marital bed, but then her father's own deception had come to light, wearing the face of a strange woman claiming to be his child. what were her problems compared to the ones that her mother must be facing, forced to deal with the proof of her husband's infidelity and made to smile and accept it ? would that be her fate, some twenty years from now ?

with a furrowed brow, caroline lifted her eyes to look at her mother as she spoke, features pinched in vague embarrassment at the topic at hand and at her mother's insistent knowledge on the matter, though irritation slowly gave way to a dull amusement, discomfort morphing into a smile that she tried to keep hidden behind the rim of her teacup that by the time her mother came to sit beside her, caroline was a measure more receptive to her words and her touch. without the cup to conceal her expressions or her fidgeting, the princess of wales was defenseless against her mother and caroline felt her gaze flutter to a close at the gentleness in which her mother spoke to her. it had been a while since anyone had been both honest and tender with her. ❝ ... i am afraid. ❞ the words were breathed out, almost as though it were forced from her, for caroline certainly seemed surprised that she had even said it. ❝ of trying ... of ... making advances. ❞ that had not been a part of her education ─ she had learned seduction in the months that followed her debut, guided by those that had pursued her with intention to court, teasing and thrilling without actually offering more than a touch. even then, she had been chosen for the prince, kept desirable but unattainable. ❝ it is more than just fear of rejection, mother ... if he refuses me, it is more than just that ... it is duty that he spurns, the legacy of his father and the future of this kingdom. why must it be all on my shoulders ? why must i invite him to my bed ? he knows his way there, does he not ? ❞ certainly, she had rebuffed any attempts at intimacy and comfort following the death of their child, but why had he not kept trying ? she deflated, slumping against the sofa as her mother brushed the hair from her face. ❝ i do not wish to bring a child into such conflict between us, to be used as a weapon. i ... i want to be his friend ─ i want to wake up and know that he will be at the breakfast table. i want to debate politics with him and bully him until he agrees with me. ❞ a faint, fond smile curled at her lips. that had been pleasant, in the early months of their marriage. ❝ i want to ride through the fields and ... ❞ kiss him in the rain. it had given her a terrible head cold afterwards but she was almost certain that was the day that their child had been conceived. ❝ ... but all we do is fight, mother. how can anything good grow from that, let alone a child ? ❞

 “  it  seems  as  though  news  of  what  transpired  at  the  queen's  garden  party  has  reached  far  beyond  london  ,  ”  seoyeon  hummed  ,  eyes  scanning  the  laid  paper  in  hand  once  more  ,  going  over  her  lady  aunt's  words   before  continuing  ,  “  my  aunt  writes  as  though  she  herself  had  been  standing  beneath  the  very  trellis  when  it  occurred  .  how  remarkable  ,  the  speed  with  which  scandal  travels  when  carried  by  eager  tongues  .  i  don't  suppose  that  lady  whistledown  has  had  a  hand  in  this  ?  "  young  miss  turned  to  her  sponsor  with  a  curious  look  .  her  first  event  in  london  society  ,  and  although  she  was  somewhat  entertained  by  the  spectacle  ,  she  was  now  beginning  to  realize  how  cautious  one  must  be  in  order  to  avoid  becoming  a  victim  to  the  gossip  author’s  quill  .  “  aunt  soojin  sends  her  regards  ,  your  grace  .  she  is  most  disappointed  she  could  not  join  us  sooner  .  ”  seoyeon  folded  the  letter  with  measured  care  ,  tucking  it  between  the  pages  of  the  book  she  was  reading  prior  .  “  i  know  it  is  unbecoming  of  a  lady  to  gossip  but  i  am  curious  to  know  of  her  ladyship's  thoughts  on  the  whole  fiasco  ?  ”

she had, with permission from the family, taken over the drawing room with boxes of silk gloves, shoes, hats and dresses ─ most of which were for the young miss seated before her, absorbed by the letter that had just been brought in by one of the footmen. impatiently, mamie peered over the edge of the letter with a cheekiness that seemed better suited to a younger woman, smiling faintly at the maturity that seoyeon displayed even when faced with her impudence. ❝ i am certain our mysterious lady w has her fingers in every pie. it seems a rather lucrative business ─ this gossip rag ... how much did they charge for the paper, do you remember ? ❞ the first few editions had been distributed, certainly, but with the demand for gossip, so came the natural exchange of coin. even if half of london was upset with the anonymous author, mamie was more intrigued than anything else and, like a good businesswoman, eager to know if lady whistledown wanted accomplices, if the author could even be uncovered. ❝ for most women, gossip is the most exciting thing we can do, and you, my sweet, must endeavor to find a husband that allows you to do more than just that. however, i will indulge in a bit of whispering, since it is only us two. ❞ she murmured, feigning reluctance. ❝ it seems a rather embarrassing time for her majesty ... never mind the tumble in the water, but the public quarrel between two princes ... ❞ she tutted softly. ❝ i almost wished to call on the marchioness alderidge to see if she knows the reasoning behind the fight, but i fear that would put us at odds. either way, i do not envy the ones throwing a celebration to follow that ... if it is a great success, the queen would not be pleased at being upstaged. if it is another failure, her majesty may be disappointed with the season as a whole. ❞

He scanned the pavilion area quickly, ensuring there were none left there to listen. "What did you observe, Caro? I suppose I can...fill in the gaps." He prayed she did not know she had been the cause of the...debate. He couldn't have said why, exactly. Somehow, though, he thought it might be easier were this simply a brotherly spat. Hadn't it been coming some time, now, after all, even if Caroline had never become embroiled in their family drama? Did not all the world know Darius would make a better king than his brother?

"I've no need of a physician," he muttered, waving a dismissive hand. It seemed a level of drama to him which he did not consider necessary given the peak they'd already achieved. He wasn't entirely sure that sentiment would have remained true, however, had it not been for the interference of a certain gentleman. "Caro, who was it that...came between us? Wasn't that a...cousin of yours, or some such?" He knew he recognized him, and he knew he was connected with his wife in some way, but -- perhaps it was the blow to the head -- he couldn't quite place the fellow at the moment.

His brows arched, concern rolling over his face like a cloud. "Brigitta? Is she all right? I heard she'd fallen into a pool of water -- was she harmed?"

He was glad when she said nothing of Darius, though he little doubted she had ensured his princely sibling would also be attended to -- Caroline wasn't one to let details go astray, nor to risk that anyone overhearing her orders might note the exception towards the person with whom her husband had been brawling. Still, a suspicion was forming in his mind, had been for some time, and he little liked the way it twisted, hard, against his gut.

She dabbed softly at his face, her hands gentle, eyes focused. He'd always admired that quality in her, the absolute focus which she could summon. Her will was a force, he'd often considered, sharp and shrewd, unswerving in its unmitigated capacity. He'd rarely felt its kindling force on himself, when it was bent on softness, on tenderness, on caring caresses, however unwillingly bestowed, or how much born out of simple practicality (it would not do for the Prince of Wales to bleed openly). His gaze flicked to hers, a moment, taking in her every expression, the way her brows pressed soft together, eyes narrowing in concentration, lips pursing then parting, ever so slightly, to reveal the soft pink of her tongue just behind the gleaming pearls of her teeth. Was there no world in which they could make each other happy, now, he wondered, abstractly. Was there no possibility for redress of their wounds?

it was a pleasant surprise to learn that her touch was not dismissed ( or worst, treated with a measure of disgust that she would understand, considering the viciousness of their last conversation ) but rather tolerated, perhaps even welcomed, and caroline was eager to capitalize on the moment, unaware of just how much she had missed feeling his warmth beneath his fingertips until she had him, somewhat obedient under the weight of her fussing. she was careful not to show just how much this small concession meant to her, features kept purposefully blank as he spoke, even if her nose wrinkled a little at his quick refusal of a physician. ❝ ... i was too far to hear what was said, only that the both of you emerged from the maze, already in a state of agitation. ❞ good god, was it because of her ? caroline was so certain that she had steered darius from his heroics ( which were appreciated but would only lead to trouble, as the fiasco had just proven to them all ) but now, she feared even giving voice to the potential. what if it was not because of her, and she filled charles' head with untoward suspicions ? it was no more than he deserved, certainly, but caroline was not a woman who found satisfaction in debasing herself to get even, especially not if it meant fracturing the royal family. ( a small voice within her head whispered that the damage had already been done, with or without intention. ) ❝ your mother glanced in my direction, which i took as instruction to handle the matter but before i could ... oh, charles ! ❞ a little roughly, she pressed the damp cloth to the cut upon his brow to stem the trickle of blood, focusing her gaze on the small wound there. ❝ what could have driven you to fight with your brother in public ? madness, surely ... the heat ? ❞ her eyes flickered down to meet with his own, brow knitted together in concern even as her face twisted with brief confusion.

who ... ? ❝ ... oh, that was colonel stirling ! ❞ she waved the cloth around, dismissing the thought. ❝ his sister was married to bernard. he matters little in this. are you sure you're quite alright, darling ? ❞ had he been struck across the head too hard, or was it all the excitement that was now finally crashing down upon him ? she would find and apologize to augustus in a few days ─ both for the fight and for her unenthusiasm in the moment, as her hand rested upon charles' forehead, the other cupping his cheek to keep him in place. ❝ your sister is quite fine. ❞ she murmured, trying to soften her voice so that he, too, would be persuaded to calm. unthinking, her thumb brushed over his jaw, features gentling with a small smile. ❝ her pride is more injured than her body, i dare to venture, and she has the finest care there is, if she needs it. you know i would not lie to you about this. ❞ she made a small noise, as though to ask if she could continue to tend to him, and did not wait for his permission to seize it, cleaning the small cuts on his eyebrow and at his lip. it was irritating ─ how handsome he was still, and though he was lightly injured, she could not help the way her pulse began to race at their close proximity, keeping her eyes stubbornly focused on the task at hand out of fear that she would act the fool if she looked into his dark gaze. caroline could not help but tut softly, both at her thoughts and at his persistence in speaking, mouth pressed together in a thin line of disapproval, head shaking faintly even as he blurted out his question.

❝ what ? ❞ there was laughter in her voice as she focused on dabbing at his lip, holding the cloth there as her gaze lifted, feeling his eyes on her. only then did she realize that he was serious, amusement fading into something akin to dull shock. ❝ ... what ? no, of course not. ❞ denial was sharp, almost as though she were guilty of something. caroline cleared her throat and tried again, setting the cloth aside so that she could hold his face between her palms. ❝ no, my love. i will not deny that i ... i like darius very much. ❞ she allowed, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth ─ she would not lie to charles, even if lying seemed kinder in this moment. ❝ he has been so kind and so understanding of everything over the last few years and perhaps ... perhaps, in my ... my desperate for kindness and understanding, i have ... acted overly familiar with him but i do not love him. ❞ that, at least, she knew for certain. ( she also knew that she could come to love him or any one that showed her an inch of gentleness or spared a kind word, so close was she to shattering. ) ❝ please ... please, tell me that was not the cause of the fight. it is not my fault, is it ? ❞ her voice was a whisper, almost horrified at the thought of spoiling yet another part of his future.

a small, disbelieving huff escapes her mouth at his words ─ her fingers curl around the handle of her porcelain cup, resisting the urge to reach out and shove at his shoulder, especially as he positions himself too close to be accidentally. she does not protest, or remind him to keep his distance, instead choosing to nudge at his knee lightly as she hides a small smile behind the rim of her teacup. ❝ only bad things can come from us being alone together, mister castelo. ❞ she retorts, amused that after so long, rafael was very much the same, a constant and incurable rake of the highest regard. once his hands are free of his cup, caroline reaches out to squeeze at his fingers, brief and endeared by his presence. ❝ you will have to try very hard, rafael. i've become rather demanding now that i am princess of wales, though i see you haven't changed at all, given what was written in whistledown. ❞ she peers at him with dark, curious eyes. ❝ is there any truth to it ? are you ravaging young ladies in dark corners already ? ❞

a small pavilion had been erected for the princess of wales ─ something that made her visible but otherwise untouchable to those that were not permitted too close, yet the more persistent of callers would find a way, as witnessed when rafael castelo presents himself with that same careless confidence that had once ( and still did ) charmed her as a young debutant. ❝ is that so ? it seems to me that perhaps you were not looking hard enough. ❞ she murmured, flicking two fingers to inform her maids to send away anyone that might linger. she had her companion for the morning, it seemed, mouth curving into a small smile. ❝ you may sit closer and have tea with me. i hear from my brothers that your family has recently returned to london but i received no news from you, so you can imagine my disappointment. i thought we were friends, rafael. ❞