If you were to ask anyone in the ton about the Lady with a Fan, even an errand boy could give you an answer. That's the name Anastasia Bridgerton had built for herself to protect her family after their father's passing. As the oldest sister and twin...
Episode 3: An Affair of Honour Chapter 11: The Cry of a Wounded Heart
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The Bridgertons had their fair share of issues, but family meant sitting down and having productive conversations to figure things out. To Anastasia Bridgerton, that advice was bullshit.
For the past week, the woman had done everything in her power to avoid every single one of her family members from morning to midnight. Anthony had even resorted to staking out her bedroom door, only to find that she had slept in the study. Evidently, the siblings were worried.
Their concerns only grew when Violet Bridgerton refused to say a word about the argument, pretending as if nothing was amiss with her children, building greater distress within the household.
Anastasia sat in her study, which had now become a hideout of sorts, where the only one who entered and left other than herself was Adele. The maid watched her mistress drown in work, signing documents and sleeping in couches only to arise early and repeat the process. Food had become an afterthought of sorts, as any tray of edibles brought would be left to cool in the corner until at least three hours after its arrival. Even when her mistress chose to eat, her lips would barely swallow the food before she pushed the cart away, stubbornly refusing to have anything more.
Anastasia knew well that her actions were far from healthy, but her body was the last thing on her mind with the variety of emotions that had been piling on her heart all month. The man had truly come into her life just to tear it all apart. Perhaps if she hadn't been so emotional that night, the argument would never have happened. The worst part was that she had let him do so knowingly. The amount of times she had wandered 'if only' this past couple days...
A sigh escaped her lips. The girl held her forehead with both arms, shutting her eyes in hopes of erasing the frustrations she bore. Her gaze slowly drifted to the letter Adele had delivered a few days ago. A ball arranged by one of her comrades was tonight, and the Princes were said to be attending. Despite how desperately she did not wish to go, she could not deny this invitation.
Finally, after a large inner battle, she picked up her bell and gently rang it.
//
Anastasia glanced at her gown, half-heartedly admiring its gorgeous pastel pink. It had been many ages since she wore such a bright colour, yet she couldn't stop herself tonight. Something within her wanted to feel like this again... like the princess her father once knew her to be. This was his favourite colour on her when he was still around. Wearing it made her feel as if he was right there with her. Tonight, she needed him the most.
She swept a long glance at the fan on the table, gently placing it on her palm. Her fingers moved to unfurl it, revealing the familiar embroidery that seemed a little worn out from the lengthy usage. She ran her fingers through the thread, mind drifting to the day her Papa had given this to her.
