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Confused, I reply "I'm not royal-" I cut myself off as the weight of the incident dawns on me.
"King George Frederick The Third of Great Britain and Ireland." I sighed as a heavy blush rolled over my cheeks.
I slowly raise my head to m...
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✧･ﾟ: Chapter 42 - The Perfect Queen *:･ﾟ✧
28th of January 1761
'The perfect Queen.' It had been ringing in my head for the past two days. 'You will make the perfect Queen.' It didn't seem right. It didn't fit. It was unsettling, all that had happened in the past week or so made me feel like this could be the worst possible outcome for my future. Marrying George was a terrifying prospect, especially considering the fact he was now a kidnapper.
I shook my head quickly, attempting to shake the thoughts from my mind.
It didn't matter, I will not ever be a Queen, I will not ever marry George. I just need an escape plan; A way out of this prisonous castle that I will never call home. Away from George who I will never call husband.
Maybe if I play along with his game...
-
I drag a wooden brush though my H/C curls, the feel of the bristles against my scalp relaxing me, allowing the negative thoughts to escape my mind.
The sound of a brief knock to the door rings out throughout the room, causing me to snap back to reality. Adjusting the bodice of my dress I stood upright, the lace rough beneath my fingers.
The dress itself was simple, similar to the ones I had previously be wearing however this time the skirt was draped with lace. The white fabric of my chemise covered my chest, adding a decorative frill to the collar of the dress. Scattered pieces of lace trailed down the bodice, the pattern becoming sparse at the waistline.
I took a deep breath, calming myself as I placed my hand on the door, slowly opening it preparing for what was behind it.
"George!" I plaster a smile on my face, bouncing on the balls of my feet as he gave me a grin, stepping closer to me.
"My love, you look breath-taking."
I laugh quietly, watching as he extends his arm towards me. I take a step forward, threading my arm through his.
George since we had returned to Windsor had remained in black dress, out of respect for me and as much as I appreciated the gesture it also sorts of irked me. Somehow, he thought he could kidnap me, with clearly no respect for me, but he remained in mourning as a sign of respect to me. It didn't make sense.
Walking through the doorway of my room, out into the hall I spot Oliver and Wilson standing close by, there watchful eyes boring into me.
'Act nice Y/N, play it cool.'
Turning away from George for a moment I raised my hand waving and smiling in their direction. The smile became genuine once I saw Oliver's face light up, Wilson offering a tight-lipped smile and bowing his head.
I failed to notice the whispers among them.
"She's been in a lovely mood recently; I think she's settling." Oliver whispers to Wilson as he stoops down to his level, shaking his head slightly.
