Fresh Air - Anthony Bridgerton

The Letter

The morning sun barely pierced the thick clouds hanging over the castle as the household prepared for Anabeth's funeral. A somber silence had settled over the estate, the only sounds the hushed whispers of servants and the soft footfalls of those attending to last-minute arrangements. The air was heavy with sorrow, and the scent of lilies, Anabeth's favorite flower, mingled with the lingering incense from the morning prayers.

Scarlett's heart felt like a stone, sinking deeper with each passing moment. Scarlett stood before her mirror, dressed in a simple black gown, her eyes hollow from sleepless night, devoid of any embellishments, her hair pulled back into a low, unadorned bun. The raw pain in her eyes spoke more than any words ever could. She reached up to touch the locket around her neck, a gift from Anabeth, feeling the cold metal against her skin as a painful reminder of her loss.

"Your Highness, it is time," Brimsley said softly from the doorway.

Scarlett turned to him, her expression one of resigned determination. She nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "Thank you, Brimsley."

As she walked to the grand hall where the ceremony was to be held, Scarlett's mind drifted back to happier times with Anabeth. She remembered their laughter, their shared secrets, and the dreams they had woven together. Each memory was a dagger to her heart, but she held onto them, refusing to let her sister's spirit fade.

The hall was filled with mourners, their faces a blend of sorrow and respect. At the front, a beautiful casket adorned with white lilies stood as the centerpiece. Scarlett approached it, her steps heavy, feeling every eye on her. She reached the casket and placed her hand gently on the polished wood.

"We were supposed to dance under the stars," Scarlett whispered, her voice cracking. She leaned down, pressing her lips to the casket. "Goodbye, my Ana. I will love you always."

Scarlett stepped back, her eyes lingering on the casket for a moment longer before she turned to face the assembly. She took her place beside Henry and Daphne, Henry offered her a comforting hand. But instead, she grasped Daphnes tightly, drawing strength from her presence. Henry looked at her but back at the service when he realized she wasn't looking back at him but at the man across the garden standing with the rest of the Bridgertons, Anthony.

The service was a blur of words and prayers, but Scarlett barely heard them. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of Anabeth and the life they would never share. When the time came for the eulogy, Scarlett stepped forward, her heart pounding.

"My sister Anabeth was a light in all our lives," Scarlett began, her voice steady despite the tears that threatened to fall. "She was kind, compassionate, and full of life. She dreamed of a world filled with love and joy, and she brought those dreams to everyone she met. Today, we say goodbye, but we also remember and celebrate the beautiful soul she was."

Scarlett's voice broke on the last word, and she quickly returned to her seat, where Daphne enveloped her in a protective embrace. She buried her face in Daph's shoulder, allowing herself to finally release the tears she had been holding back.

After the funeral, the castle seemed to return to its normal rhythm, but for Scarlett, nothing felt the same. She wandered through the halls, feeling a deep emptiness where Anabeth's presence used to be. She tried to focus on her duties, but her mind kept drifting back to the pain of her loss.

It was during one of these aimless wanderings that Scarlett found herself in the Queen's private chambers. Aunt Charlotte, the Queen, was surrounded by papers and fabrics, her attention focused on the upcoming wedding plans.

"Scarlett, dear, come in," Aunt Charlotte said, her voice filled with forced cheerfulness. "We have much to discuss regarding your wedding to Henry."

Scarlett nodded, though her heart wasn't in it. She took a seat, trying to focus on the details the Queen was presenting. Dresses, flowers, menus—it all felt so trivial in the face of her grief.