𝓜𝔂 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓞𝓬𝓽𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓪, 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 | 𝓑. 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓰𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓸𝓷

Chapter seven - flowers

Sonder- the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own

Octavia pov

April 15th 1913

I lay awake in my bed and pondering what Lady Danbury had said the previous night.

I get pulled out of my thoughts when I hear the sound of my door opening so I quickly change positions and impersonate sleep.

Grace walks around to my window and opens the drapes, letting natural light into the room.

"Good morning miss. How did you sleep?" Grace smiles, as she walks round the room gathering my stuff for the morning.

"Good morning Grace, and very well thank you" I lie, smiling back at her.

✽✽✽✽

Not long after Breakfast, everyone is sired to the drawing-room doing their own thing, of which I mean reading Lady Whistledown.

𝓛𝓪𝓭𝔂 𝓦𝓱𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓵𝓮𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷
𝚂𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛

For those not in attendance of last night's ball you need not worry as thats what I'm here for.

There will forever be just two words that come to this author's mind the morning after any good party, "shock" and" delight".

Well dear reader, the scandalous accounts from last night's soiree at Vauxhall are quite shocking and delightful indeed.
Emerging, Phoenix-like from the ashes of irrelevance is one Miss Daphne Bridgerton...

As I turn the page of the scandal sheet, which everyone has grown to rely on. Geoffrey walks into the room.

"Callers for Miss Enola Holmes" he announces before walking outside and talking to the men.

"Simon came round earlier," I tell my second eldest brother.

"What did he want?" he asks turning all his attention to me.

"He is promenading with the Bridgertons," I recite turning back to the paper.

"Simon Basset. A Rake. Is promenading. With who?" he asks snatching the scandal sheet out of my hands.

"Daphne of course." I respond, "you blithering idiot" I mutter, but he heard and slaps me around the head lightly with the paper.

"Do not call me that" he states resting the paper in his lap.

"What, who else could it have been" I turn my attention to the line of suitors standing outside the door waiting for my sister who is currently sitting on a sofa.

There is a wide selection of flower bouquets appearing around the room.

When I see Geoffrey enter once more holding a large bouquet of flowers, he walks over and places them next to me.

"Flowers for Lady Octavia" he announces.

Sherlock and I look at each other before I stand up and peer over the bouquet to find a card, that reads:

𝒟ℯ𝒶𝓇 𝒪𝒸𝓉𝒶𝓋𝒾𝒶,
ℬℯ𝓃ℯ𝒹𝒾𝒸𝓉. ℬ

That was all it read. Nothing more.