bridgerton imagines.

the union: king george.

the sounds of forks scraping against emptying plates is the only sound to fill the room tonight.
george looks up from his plate to find my eye,
but i keep it focused on the food before me.
i've hardly touched it,
though i'm famished.
the nerves in my stomach are much too thick to swallow much else.
"is...is the food to your standards, mrs?"
i look up now to answer george's question,
but he seems miles apart.
i can hardly hear him over this space between us.
"i'm sorry?"
"i...i asked if the food was up to par."
"oh! yes, yes. quite delightful. thank you."
george nods his head,
but offers nothing else.
the casual conversation for the night has come to an end,
filling us up on the quiet.
until george clears his throat,
rises to his feet,
and nods.
"well...goodnight, then. i shall see you tomorrow."
i rush to my feet to stop him before he can take his leave.
"are...are we to spend our first night...together?"
george looks at his hands,
wrings his fingers together,
then finds my gaze again with a gentle smile.
"uh...n-no, i do not think it wise."
"forgive me if i overstep, but...but i was told..."
i do not finish for it is rather uncomfortable to discuss such matters aloud,
but george nods his head the very same.
"yes, i know. it is customary. but you are apprehensive and i shall not darken the doorway of a woman who wishes to be elsewhere."
i hurry to explain my nerves,
for i have come off as off putting.
"no, no. please, i am sorry if i appeared so cold. i just...i'm nervous,"
i admit with a laugh.
"rightfully so, yes,"
george agrees.
his smile is ever so gentle.
it makes this unease in my chest all the worse.
how could i be so cold to someone so kind and welcoming?
i whisper,
"forgive me."
he steps closer,
going to place his hand on my shoulder,
but stops short.
"you need not apologize. you...you are millions of miles away from home with only i as your company. and i must admit, i make horrible company."
his gentleman's grin gives me leeway to tease.
"i would not say horrible. only...poor."
george chuckles with a hand smoothing down his jaw.
i, too, exhale a giggle that lessens this unbearable tension between us.
"i do not think your mother would be happy to find out our wedding night was...was incomplete. she might throw me out of the palace."
when george steps closer to me now,
i think i have overstepped.
i have taken my jokes too far,
used too many words,
and will be punished for my mistake.
i flinch when he is before me now.
only the strike never comes.
george stands still,
hands held behind his back,
with a look of worry in his expression.
"you should not fret. you are the queen now. people will answer to you, not the other way around."
i do not know how i will be able to shoulder such power,
especially after so long of being the subservient, docile woman of the court.
"but...if it will ease your worries, i...i will stay the night here. with you. together."
he lowers his voice to add,
"it will...will give you time to know me. who—who i am."
i understand what he is saying without being so blunt:
the consummation will not happen tonight.
"it will assuage the servants and, in turn, my mother. everyone wins, would you agree?"
i make the bold move of taking his hand into my palm.
then i nod.
"i would."

"thank you, reynolds. that should be all."
the door closes behind me and alone,
george and i stand.
the flame of the candle adjacent to the man flickers across his gentle facial features and i am left to wonder:
how can a man possess such a kind gaze?
"so, y/n...may i call you y/n?"
i laugh with the nod of my head.
"you shall call me whatever you like, my lord."
"well...if i decide to call you y/n, it is only fair for you to address me as george."
i knit my eyebrows together.
"you...you would prefer me to call you by your name?"
"well—well, yes,"
he answers with a laugh.
i do not admit how out of the ordinary this is.
i do not admit that the man i was raised to be a wife for,
is the opposite of the man he currently is.
"o-okay, george."
he smiles now,
so soft and charming.
so long as i should live,
i will spend my time finding ways to bring forth that lovely smile.
"tell me, do you like to read?"
he asks now.
"i, uh...wasn't exactly permitted to do so."
"but you did anyways, i'm assuming?"
there is a knowing grin on his lips now.
it is what encourages me to smile into the palm of my hand and nod.
"i did, yes."
"i figured as much. there is a knowing look in your eye. next to the wondrous sparkle, of course."
a blush kisses my cheeks beneath his compliment.
"do you read as well?"
"oh, yes. as often as i can."
"about?"
i notice now,
that the space between us has decreased just the tiniest amount,
yet it is the greatest gesture.
"astronomy, mostly."
i notice there is a great window at the other end of this bedroom.
i also notice the glimmer of the stars in the sky,
waiting for their stories to be told by a man who can decipher them.
"come! you must show me what you know."
i take george's hand again,
though this time more eagerly,
and i bring our timid bodies to the edge of the room where the window will open.
it is a mistake of childlike excitement,
but george does not berate me for it.
instead,
he encourages it.
i watch nothing but george as he points to the sky,
drawing lines to the respected constellations and telling me their names.
"and this one...if you can see it is—"
"orion,"
i whisper in mere astonishment.
but i have cut off the royal king,
my husband,
and i know i shall be served a punishment for doing so.
i brace myself for the worst when only generous words find me,
"orion, yes. you are very intelligent. not that i ever doubted you."
i pretend as though my heart isn't racing from the prior attack i assumed would happen.
even though neither of us mention it,
i can see his eyes searching for an answer.
should he look a little harder,
he will find all he is looking for in the scars of my skin,
in the wounds that never healed,
in the singed flesh of my heart.
"y/n?"
"yes?"
"would you like to dance?"
it is not lost on me the absurdity of his question.
the hour is much too late,
my nightgown is not suited for it,
and there are much more important things we should be tending to.
but how could i think of such trivialities when the moon is leering into the room just right,
and a kind man is asking for my hand?
i give it to him without hesitation and say,
"yes, i would love to."
we begin to waltz around this bedroom with no music to listen to but the symphony of our hearts.
i note how his smile is soft against his lips.
it awakens something inside of me i've never known before:
hope.
"i do not think i've yet mentioned how...how remarkable you truly are, y/n. you are mesmerizing in ways words fail to explain."
"thank you, george. you are kind. it is all i could ever ask for."
he gives me that wide smile and my heart nearly implodes with the sheer sweetness of it.
george's hand seems to fit well into mine,
like we were crafted for this union in more ways than one.
"i'm sorry...i'm sorry you were forced away from your home to be married. to—to me of all people,"
george laughs now.
"but...i am glad it is you. you are brimming with potential and i hope that your time here will encourage you to explore it further. to find what it means to be you."
i tilt my head in inquiry.
"i do not think you know how strange of a man you are, george."
i say it with a smile so that it does not appear to be offensive,
but it is true.
"all my life, i was raised to be a wife for a—a specific kind of man."
"one who is brute and treats his counterpart rather cruel?"
"counterpart,"
i echo in something close to disbelief.
"is that how you believe this union to be?"
"yes...do you not?"
i do not answer because in truth,
no i do not.
i was never taught to believe i could surmount to the esteem a man, especially the king, holds.
i could never come close.
now here he is,
looking at me with too much respect,
too much warmth,
and it is dismantling everything i was ever taught.
i am starting anew;
learning all over again.
"i shall not pretend to understand your suffering,
y/n. i can only imagine the torment you were forced to endure, what with the teachings of a wife. i can see the agony in your eyes. i only...my only wish is that, in time, you will learn i am not here to hurt you. should you wish to speak, i will listen. should you wish to decide, i will agree. should you fade away, i will find you and bring you home."
our waltzing bodies stop now by his influence.
he bares his eyes into my soul to say,
"should you wish for anything, i will make sure it is brought to fruition. i hope...i hope that you will find as time goes on, that you need not flinch in my presence. i am your equal."
i have spent the better half of my life in fear.
i have spent it being told i am subservient to the man i will marry.
and i accepted it.
i never questioned it nor did i wish for more.
to be told i no longer have to live in fear,
no longer have to cower away from him,
well it is too much.
it is what the quietest voice in my head has wished for.
when i do not say anything for many moments,
mostly because the words have been knocked clean from my throat,
george removes his warm body from mine and nods his head.
"goodnight, y/n. i hope to see you tomorrow."
i try to part my lips and ask him to stay,
but i fail.
i instead nod my head in acknowledgment of his words and departure,
which leaves me alone for the night.
the solitude gives me time to think without interruption and thank whatever god led me here.
how fortune i am to have found a husband who is so unlike my father.