Infatuation (King George III xreader)

~67~ A quiet fondness

*Unedited.*
Word count: 2732

Baskets lined the fence, holding differing assortments of brightly colored fruits, greens, and vegetables in a weaved embraced.

The wind was gentle - a long lost friend of remembrance ghosting skin and pushing aside hair. A smooth caress of cool nature also found in the dirt between my toes and under trimmed fingernails - a loose coating of earth resembling a symbol of long work in the outdoors.

Heels long discarded. Worry for my 'position' long tossed aside by the older woman - the side of my dress had been gathered, the two hued fabric tied in a knot that helped keep the hem off the ground both in little hope of keeping it clean, and saving the maids from having to stress over washing off the greeting of dirt.

The air was fresh - a calling of freedom I was starting to realize I missed more than I let on...however, the calming smile remained on my face as I lent my focus to my current task.
It was surprising how fast we had managed all that we had done with what few people were there - Saron and myself finishing up with the needs of the garden while Richard dealt with the remaining weeds around the edges, and the children mostly remained inside the shed nearby, storing what was needed in there or the house.

A thicker wool shall had been offered to me - now gathered over my shoulders in hopes of warding off the chill air, though admittedly, I was too busy to take notice of it.

I stand before picking up the basket laying by my side, listening to the gentle hum of the older woman and a glance was spared towards the guards standing watch by the fence.

Saron smiles, gesturing for me to follow and I was by her side in moments - gathering the few spare baskets by the fence before walking out of the garden in tow.

Eyes followed.

My toes felt cold against the grass - cheeks tinted with warmth.

I kept close - offering her another smile.
"Thank you." I start in kind, earning her attention. "For letting me help. It means a lot to me."

She chuckles, features holding a natural beauty even with the hints of age.

"We should be the ones thanking you, your highness. Surely you already have a handful lining your plate?" Her gaze was curious, gentle.

My hum was broken, shrugged off.
"Nothing too hard...at the moment. Though I will admit I needed this," we step inside the small shed - a few smiles from young faces giving us both a greeting and the older woman held my gaze as she set her basket on a small shelf.
I look back towards the quaint little cottage behind a clearing of trees and speckled sunlight.
"it feels nice...all of this."

"You consider this nice?"

I chuckle with a little more life.
"That surprises you?"

"I don't mean any disrespect-" Saron counters. "I too find my home wonderful. It is just...you don't really find people of high class seeing the more simple side to life as 'nice.' At least not out loud."

She takes the basket from my arm, her eldest offspring nearing the shelf to grab more baskets and continue on with her task.

All the words and worries I could have spilled to her at that moment - the secrets and shadowed feelings leaving my eyes to linger on her motherly features - a pang of guilt hit my chest, tearing at my mind like a claw through fabric easily torn.

Shredded much like long dead ambitions laid to rest upon a silent hill.

This was all a lie made up in the moment. This semblance of home was not mine even with my emotions having clung onto it. To this delicate piece of land they were lucky enough to call home. To her.