#vampirewrites

Despite the murmurs and gazes that seemed to follow you wherever you went, you found yourself increasingly drawn to Prince Friedrich's company, and Fortuna seemed more than willing to cross your paths. Your encounters at balls and soirées became a regular occurrence, each meeting deepening your connection.

Your grandmother, Lady Clarece, was invited to see the latest exhibition presented at the museum, and decided to take you with her. ‘See and be seen’, as she told you in the carriage. Especially now that you were the center of the ton’s talks.

You absentmindedly walked through the exhibition of paintings and sculptures, taking in the different shapes and colors the artists used to bring their imagination to life, when someone approached you from the side.

“Remarkable how artists are able to bring the pictures in their mind onto paper, isn’t it?”

You turned around to the familiar and soft voice, dropping into a curtsy to greet the man. “I was just thinking about the same thing”, you admitted, which made Friedrich smile at you.

“I had hoped to meet you here, Y/N”, the blonde said, turning to the side and extending his arm in an invitation to follow him. “In this case I should thank my grandmother’s secret love for gossip and self-presentation, for my attendance to this event”, you joked, which made Friedrich stifle a laugh.

“Do you think her love for self-presentation would like to be publicly thanked for in front of London’s high society? Or maybe a bouquet of flowers?” You grimaced at the mere thought of Friedrich highly praising and thanking your grandmother. “Please, I beg you, don’t.”

You and him shared a laugh as you both seemed to imagine your grandmother’s reaction to his potential thank you speech.

“Well, then how about you tell me about the book you bought a few days ago. You couldn’t tell me about it the last time I saw you as you hadn’t started it yet.” As you strolled through the museum's hallowed halls, the world around you seemed to fade into insignificance, the exhibits becoming mere backdrop to the captivating exchange unfolding between you.

Your heart fluttered lightly at his genuine interest in your interests.

"It's called ‘The Enchanted Mansion'," you explained, your voice suddenly alive with excitement. "The story follows a young woman named Thea, who inherits a sprawling estate by her late grandfather, which is shrouded in secrets. Soon her grandfather’s dark past catches up with her, and she has to embark on an adventure of self-discovery, learning who she truly wants to be and overcoming formidable challenges. But she also finds true and honest love along the way."

As you speak, your own words painting a vivid picture of the fantastical world described in the book, you didn’t catch the way Friedrich was gazing at you.

"But what I love most about the book," you continued, voice suddenly softening with emotion, "is how it captures the essence of longing and desire. Thea yearns for something more and deeper in her life, something beyond the confines of her ordinary existence. And as she explores the mansion’s and her grandfather’s secrets, she discovers that the power to change the cycle and therefore her fate lies within her own hands and heart."

Friedrich listened intently, captivated by your passionate retelling of the story.

"It sounds like a truly remarkable book," Friedrich remarks, his gaze locked on your face. "I can see why it resonates with you so deeply."

You smiled warmly in response, grateful for Friedrich's genuine interest and understanding.

In that moment, you felt a profound connection with him, but your excitement was tinged with a hint of self-doubt.

"I hope I'm not boring you with the books I like to read," you confessed, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you suddenly remembered who he was. "I imagine you prefer more sophisticated and clever books."

Friedrich's smile was warm and reassuring as he shook his head. "Not at all, Y/N. I find your passion for this story quite endearing." He reached out to gently squeeze your hand, his touch sending a shiver of warmth down your spine. "In fact, I've always had a fondness for tales like these."

Your eyes widened in surprise, heart skipping a beat at his unexpected admission.

"You do?"

Friedrich nodded, his gaze steady and sincere. "Yes, indeed. In fact, I quite enjoyed ‘The Duelist’s Honor’ by Mrs. Hartley, who is also the author of the book you're describing if I’m correct."

Your jaw momentarily dropped in astonishment, your mind reeling at the revelation. "I had no idea! I've always admired her work, but I never would have imagined that you-"

Friedrich grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement at your undertone. "That I, a prince, would enjoy stories like these? Believe me, Y/N, there is much more to me than meets the eye."

Your conversation flowed effortlessly, each literature revelation bringing you closer to Friedrich.

The following day, you were pleasantly surprised to be presented by a stunning bouquet of flowers the housemaid positioned in front of you in the drawing room.

A gesture that left your parents both intrigued and delighted.

"Beautiful flowers," your father remarked, examining the bouquet over his newspaper with interest. "I once sent your mother a very similar one."

Your mother's eyes sparkled with excitement, as she mused over the colorful arrangement. "Who would send such a precious bouquet?”

Their speculation was interrupted by the housemaid announcing a sudden visitor at the door.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the familiar figure presenting himself at your doorstep: Prince Friedrich himself.

The sight of the prince elicited gasps of astonishment from your family, who were unaccustomed to receiving such esteemed guests at their humble abode.

As Friedrich entered the drawing room with effortless grace and charm, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and excitement at the prospect of introducing him to your family.

Your parents jumped from their seats, greeting him with a blend of surprise and delight, their expressions a curious mix of reverence and nervousness.

"Your Highness," your father stammered, bowing slightly. "To what do we owe the honor of your visit in our modest home?"

Friedrich smiled warmly, his presence commanding the room with ease. "I hope I am not intruding, Sir Whitlock. I simply wished to pay my respects and express my admiration for your daughter."

Your heart swelled with pride at Friedrich's words, though you couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety at the thought of your family's reaction to his unexpected visit. By now you had grown accustomed to navigating the intricacies of society, but having the prince suddenly in your own home felt like uncharted territory.

Your mother, ever the picture of grace under pressure, welcomed Friedrich with open arms, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Please, Your Highness, make yourself at home. It is an honor to have you here."

The blonde prince lowered his head in gratitude. “I hope you like the flowers I picked for you. The florist almost denied making it and wanted to change my mind to a bouquet of roses. But to me flowers hold a very special meaning and message.”

Your mother beamed with excitement at his words, as Friedrich settled into a comfortable chair.

“What a beautiful thing to say your highness!” Ever the inquisitive one, your younger brother quirked up from the sidelines.

 “So, what do they mean? And what about the flowers on your lapel?” your brother, James, asked and added a hasty ‘your Highness’ when he met your mothers gaze.

Your eyes now fell to the blue flowers that were neatly attached to the lapel of his jacket.

Friedrich smiled at the young boy, leaning slightly forward in his chair, meeting your eyes. “Much like the hidden meaning within these flowers, it is a secret that only a heart touched by true affection can ever hope to decipher.”

James looked between you and the prince with one of his eyebrows raised in a lack of understanding.

"Your Highness," he began tentatively, "What brings you really here?" His cheeky question earned him another stern look from your mother, but Friedrich just chuckled as he turned to James, his expression warm. "I wished to spend some time with your sister. She has captured my heart in a way I never thought possible."

Your cheeks flushed at Friedrich's candid declaration, and you felt a rush of emotion as you met his sincere gaze. Despite the unconventional nature of your forming relationship, you knew in that moment that your feelings for Friedrich were also deeper and more profound than you had ever imagined.

Throughout the visit, Friedrich charmed your family with tales of his homeland and shared his aspirations for the future. He spoke with warmth and honesty, putting everyone at ease with his easygoing demeanor and genuine interest in their lives.

As the evening ended, Friedrich rose to take his leave, his departure marked by expressions of gratitude and goodwill from your family.

As he turned to leave, Friedrich stopped in his tracks, turning back to you with a smile.

“I almost forgot!” Reaching into the inside of his coat, he pulled out a rectangle wrapped in silken cloth. “Flowers are beautiful, but their beauty is fleeting. They wilt and fade away so quickly. But words... written words have a lasting charm. They never lose their beauty or their ability to transport us to different worlds." Taking the gift from him you smiled, opening the wonky looking bow - you assumed he wrapped it himself, to be presented with a book bound in green leather and golden letters, spelling ‘The Last Marigold’.

"Indeed. While flowers may brighten a room for a few days, a book can stay with you forever, providing solace, excitement, and inspiration long after the petals have fallen. It makes books truly timeless treasures", you said, turning the book in your hands, feeling the leather under your fingertips. Friedrich’s smile also grew at your words.

“I found it in a small bookstore, in an alley hidden from the eyes of the ton. I thought you might like it.” The thought of him scanning rows and rows of bookshelves in even the tiniest of bookstores in London, when he could have just sent a servant to an expensive store, warmed your heart. He pulled out another copy of the book from his coat. “I’d love to hear your opinions on it the next time we meet.” With that and a deep bow and kiss to the back of your hand, he bid you and your family farewell.

The moment the door closed behind him, you swiftly escaped your excited and beaming mother, making your way to the quiet sanctuary of the library. With purposeful steps, you approached a familiar bookshelf and pulled out a thick, leather-bound volume, its cover adorned with an embossed flower and letters that had faded to near obscurity. ‘The Language of Flowers’ had been one of your cherished companions growing up. Your love for flowers had only deepened when your mother first shared the secret messages your father had sent her through bouquets during their forbidden courtship.

You began flipping through the pages until your eyes landed on the bluish flower you had noticed on Friedrich’s lapel. “Cornflower, the national flower of Prussia…” you read softly. Of course, he would choose something so symbolic of his homeland, you mused, scanning the passage until a sentence stopped you cold, making your heart skip a beat.

‘An unmarried gentleman in love might be seen with a freshly plucked cornflower, pinned upon his breast. The fate of his affection is said to be reflected in the flower’s bloom. Should the cornflower remain vibrant and fresh, it signals a hopeful promise that his love may be returned. But if the flower withers and fades too quickly, it is taken as a most unfortunate omen, a silent whisper from nature that his heart’s desire might remain unfulfilled.’

A smile tugged at your lips as excitement fluttered in your chest.

The bouquet Friedrich had sent you suddenly felt like a puzzle waiting to be solved, and you couldn’t wait to decipher its hidden message. Roaming through the pages, you hastily scribbled down the meanings of each flower -gloxinias, baby’s breath, primroses, daisies, and peonies, until you pieced together a message that made your heart race and your cheeks flush.

"From the moment I first beheld you, my heart was irrevocably yours. You have become the very essence of my existence, and life without you is unthinkable. It is my deepest hope that we might soon unite in marriage and spend our days together for a lifetime and beyond."

It was as though you could hear Friedrich’s voice in your mind, a tender whisper sharing the secret message only a heart touched by true affection could ever hope to decipher.

The air was filled with the smell of blooming flowers and the sunbeams of the ending spring warmed your skin, as you walked through London’s streets. On days like these the ton was already mingling and promenading in Prior Park, but – followed by one of your grandparents' maids – you had a much different destination. Leaving the late springs sunshine, you and your chaperone entered a small alley and stopped in front of an inconspicuous but old looking book store.

The comforting scent of old parchment and polished wood welcomed you, as you stepped into the store. The faint ringing of the bell above the door, announced your presence and with a nod you signaled your chaperone to be at ease and relax. Leaving the maid to herself in the front of the store – which was your secret agreement – you walked deeper into the store. Your searching gaze quickly found him. Hehadn’t noticed you yet, so you paused a moment and smiled at the scene before you. Friedrich leaned on a table, examining the rows and rows of selected literature in front of him. His frame and his golden curls were illuminated by soft light from a high, arched window, making him look almost angelic. As you unconsciously shift your weight, the floor beneath your feet creaks slightly. Friedrich looked up at the sudden sound and smiled when your eyes met. “I almost feared that today was the day you grew tired of me.” “Oh?”, you exclaimed, feigning surprise. “I came only for the literature.” You smiled at each other in silent agreement.

You walked together, voices hushed in the reverent silence of the place, as Friedrich led you through rows of towering bookshelves. Finally, you reached a secluded alcove and sat on the small bench there, amidst the whispering pages of centuries-old books. You savored each other's presence in silence for a moment, before Friedrich cleared his throat. The blonde paused and turned to you, his expression both tender and determined. “Y/N,” he began, his voice steady but loaded with emotion, “As I told you on our first meeting, I do believe in choice rather than destiny. But the moment our eyes met, Fortuna herself , showed me a glimpse of a future I always thought unreachable.” He softly reached for your hands, chuckling in disbelieve.  “There are no words to describe how I feel, no author known to me to quote. But I have never known such certainty as I do now in this moment. You captivated my heart and my soul and I wish for nothing more than to spend my life with you.”

With that, Friedrich reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a small velvet box, standing from the bench to kneel in front of you. He opened the box to reveal a breathtaking ring, its delicate and timeless design a testament to the generations it had passed through. “This ring has been in my family for many years,” Friedrich said softly. “A symbol of the love and commitment that people shared long before us and it is my deepest wish to share these things with you.” Your heart threatened to burst any moment with anticipation for the words that you felt were about to follow.

“Y/N Whitlock, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?” The tears of joy that welled in your eyes, finally broke loose as you eagerly nodded, unable to find your voice for a moment. “Yes,” you finally whispered, voice trembling with happiness. “Yes, I will marry you.” Friedrich smiled widely; his relief evident as he slipped the ring carefully onto your finger. The moment felt almost sacred, as if the whole world around you had paused just to witness this union. The blonde took your face into his large, warm hands, gently wiping away the tears that still freely flowed down your cheeks.

“I can’t believe you are about to be my wife. I’m the luckiest man alive.” Friedrich moved to help you stand, but you stopped him, your hand nestling with the clasp of the necklace you wore day and night.

“Before my debut for the season, my mother gave me an heirloom of her own. Something to present her - and therefore also my - i, Irish roots.” Dangling on the chain was a simple but to you meaningful ring, depicting a crowned heart being held by two hands. “It’s a Claddagh ring that once belonged to my maternal grandmother. My grandfather saved for months to buy it and used it to propose to her.” You looked at the ring, smiling through the emotions that once again started to rise. “It’s made of humble material, but it holds great significance in my family. My grandfather gave it to my mother before he died, and my mother passed it on to me. She told me to give it to the man who is loyal to me, who is my friend and who I dearly love.”

You took Friedrich’s hand and opened it softly, placing the ring in his palm, your heart pounding in your chest. “I want you to have it.” Friedrich looked down at the ring, a to you unreadable expression on his face, but soon a smile softened his features. “It is the most precious gift I have ever received,” he said earnestly, slipping the ring onto his finger. “I will treasure and honor it forever.” Friedrich pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “I shall speak with my aunt soon. Once I have her blessing, I will shout to the world that you, Y/N, are everything my heart has ever desired.”

___________________________________________________________

Friedrich and you decided to keep your engagement a secret for a little while longer to savor the feeling of bliss and happiness. You didn’t even tell your family, although everyone around you noticed a change of atmosphere around you.

You were both wearing your rings with pride - it was kind of exciting to wear them so openly for everyone to see, with their meaning known only to you. It was a risk, but no one mentioned it.

At balls you danced together as always, your eyes locking with a shared understanding that soon, your love would be known to all. But what you didn’t anticipate was, that a certain suspected member of the ton was not easily kept in the dark for long. It took her a while but soon the news where circulating in Lady Whistledown’s  newest issue among London’s society, her sharp eyes missing nothing.

From the Society Papers of Lady Whistledown Dear readers, it seems we have an engagement on our hands! A certain pairing was seen at the last ball, each wearing rings that were impossible to ignore. The way they lovingly gazed at one another, lost in each other’s eyes and company, leaves little doubt in this authors mind. It seems that this secret proposal, while still kept from the prying eyes of most, will not stay hidden for much long. The ton will soon know all, and Lady Whistledown will be here to report every glorious detail. ______________________________________________________________

"Everybody knows the stork brings them!" You declared proudly, eyes shining with conviction.

Benedict obviously struggled to contain his amusement, exchanging amused glances with Colin.

"Is that so, love?" he asked, barely managing to keep a straight face. "Yes, Mama told me!" you nodded vigorously, your expression earnest. “So, the stork puts the baby in the belly of the mother?”

Outraged by Colins question you shook your head. “No! The stork takes the baby from heaven and puts it in the bassinet.”

Eloise frowned at your response, still trying to make sense of it all. "But why do women get a big belly when it's the stork that brings the baby?"

You paused, considering the question for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "Mommy told me that mommies have a special seed in the belly!"

Eloise's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected explanation. "A special... seed?"

"Yeah!" You nodded enthusiastically. "Like the ones mommy plants in her garden! But only daddies have the baby seed."

Benedict and Colin struggled visually to contain their laughter at the innocence of your explanation and the discussion that unfolded in front of them.

"But then why could I feel something move in mommy's belly when she was pregnant with you, Y/N?" Eloise asked further, turning to you with a curious expression. "If it's the stork that brings the baby."

You paused for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "Oh, that's just gas from eating the seeds!"

Benedict couldn't hold back his laughter any longer, erupting into a fit of giggles, that infected the rest of the present family. Even Eloise couldn't help but chuckle at your matter-of-fact explanation.

"You mean to tell me," Benedict said between laughs, "that all those times Mama said she was feeling you kick, it was just... gas?"

You nodded earnestly with a serious expression. "Yep! Just gas from the seed."

Eloise shook her head in disbelief, still trying to wrap her mind around the absurdity of the situation, while you returned to play with your dolls. "Well, I suppose that's one way to explain it.", she murmured, sitting down between Colin and Benedict, crossing her arms. “You two know more about this, don’t you?”

“Have you ever been to a farm?”, Colin started, earning a slap against the back of his head by his brother, as Violet Bridgerton entered the room.

"What has everyone so amused?" Violet asked, a soft smile playing on her lips as she watched you play with your toys.

Colin grinned mischievously, looking back at his mother. "Oh, we were just explaining to Eloise how babies are made, Mama. According to Y/N, it involves a stork, a special seed from the garden, and a bit of gas." Violet’s smile slipped into a face of shock and indignation, a faint pink creeping onto her cheeks. “Colin Bridgerton, stop encouraging your sister in such delicate subjects!” Benedict stifled a laugh, which earned him a strict gaze from his mother. “Don’t get me started on you, Benedict!” Raising his hand in defence, the second eldest returned to his sketchbook not being able to hide the smile on his lips.