"My final letters, were they read? Or were they written in vain?"
Although born in France, Juliette Villeneuve often spent her childhood summers in London. With the passing of each summer, her adoration for a certain Bridgerton boy grew. During thei...
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THREE DAYS PASSED SINCE JULIETTE'S AND ANTHONY'S DISCUSSION. And, even though she felt a wave of uneasiness when he spoke of Siena, Juliette was glad. She was glad that he was honest with her. She was glad that the situation wasn't as dire as he made it seem in the hedge garden days before. Truth be told, Juliette had feared the worst. What Anthony did was horrible and foolish, but he had his reasons and Juliette understood. The one night he spent with Siena was a poor result of anger and sorrow and quite a bit of gin — a mistake. Anthony wasn't perfect. No one truly was, not even Juliette herself who couldn't count all her imperfections on two hands. So, Juliette was glad he was honest, even if his words ached her heart. The more she thought and the more she listened to the rational part of her brain, the less angry she became. Most of all, Juliette was glad that Anthony promised to fix his mistakes. He promised to fix their relationship. Honesty was the first step. So, all Juliette could do now was trust him and wait.
Trust.
That night, Juliette slept peacefully.
In that time since the discussion, Juliette managed to come to a final decision about Prince Friedrich's proposal. And, in turn, tell the prince of her decision which was the more damning part in her opinion. Juliette couldn't help but feel shame. Did she lead him astray? Was she always aware she never desired marriage with him? Did she fool him? The more Juliette thought of her misled intentions, the more unease gnawed at the inner lining of her stomach. The man with crystal blue eyes and blond hair of honey took the news surprisingly well. Juliette was honest. She spoke from the heart, she spoke of how she had no desire of living the life of a princess, and most importantly, she spoke of her love for another man.
Prince Friedrich wasn't mad. He respected Juliette's decision and honest words — how could he be angry with her honesty? How can he be angry when she's staying true to herself?
Frankly, Juliette wished he would show a sliver of anger. Anything more than the placid smile and withdrawn words. Anything. She felt like her actions deserved an outward reaction — she never wanted to marry him. He was allowed to be angry. The prince left the ton soon after.
A day after Juliette declined the prince's proposal, Édith and Juliette went for a stroll in the park. It was the perfect afternoon for a promenade. High in the cloudless blue sky, the sun cast warmth down below. A light breeze rustled the leaves and nipped at Juliette's skin, counteracting the intense heat of the sun. In all, that spring afternoon was the ideal temperature.
The park wasn't too busy at the current hour. Of course, ladies and gentlemen milled about, chatting amongst one another. But, Juliette found the environment to be peaceful.
Juliette was always fond of promenades. Many of her earliest and favourite childhood memories were from promenades with her family — her parents. At the thought of her parents, a frown tugged at Juliette's lips. She couldn't bring herself to find a reason for their actions. Why would they ever wish to hurt her so? Why would they ever wish to deny her and Anthony's love? If not for her father's refusal and that damned letter he sent to Anthony three years before, then Juliette and Anthony would already be married. Well, she would think so. The stress of the last three years, let alone the stress of the last few months since she arrived in London would have never occurred.
