King George III x Reader - His Little Dove

Looks don't matter.

The king sighed when you left bolting away out of the dining room. It was supposed to be a perfect night, just you and him alone eating spaghetti, but you just had to make a fool of yourself. Back at where you were now just enjoying the hot bath making your fingers look like your grandmother's crusty hands. The view outside the window was spectacular and breath-taking. The window paned-glass was shiny, newly-cleaned probably by the maids. Although you just had a burning sensation in your temples (which happens a lot when you were a kid). Quietly, you got out despite making water heave at the noise when you got out. Tip-toeing grasping onto the towel you settled the white warm towel over your body and wet hair. While King George was walking in the hallways the castle doors rang echoed throughout the corridors leaving (y/n) in her bedroom to quickly dress into a plain (f/c) dress, before she left she saw a small beautiful (f/c) crown. Little shiny crystals reflecting the light in her bedroom. She picked it up, and putting it on her head when King George bursted through. He was in the middle of (y/n) checking herself out with the darling crown he bought for her for only 70 thousand gold coins. "My beautiful attractive ma chéri! You look wonderful." he purred putting out a hand for her to grab. I hesitated for a moment but quickly took a hold of his grip. How did he learn French?

King George III the king of Great Britain, led me through the Ballroom.

The ballroom was

Wow.

Breathtakingly. Beautiful.

The music started to play, a woman singing with a talented voice.  A man playing the piano with her and a cute dachshund with little dark spots like splashed paint. The king started twirling me around, I tried to not step on his toes since I was a terrible dancer back then and I still am. A few minutes later I stepped on the King's boot. (y/n) choked on air trying to hold her laughter as George made a really weird painful face since I was wearing really sharp high-heels.
After a while, I fell on the floor holding my stomach screaming with bubbling laughter. The woman and the pianist were giggling together as the mutt cocked his head puzzled. One of the servants' children held out his petite hand to me he had delicate eyes, like the sunset. The boy's face was dirty he had freckles, matching his huge beautiful brown orbs. "My name is Thomas!" he grinned with only his missing tooth. I was reminded of her long-lost friend John Laurens. Maybe Lafayette too. Because of the boys' light brown skin and his fluffy hair, I took his miniature hand lifting myself up from the marble floor.

The music resumed with the woman singing louder. Thomas had a big smile on his face looking up at me, I could feel George's burning stare at me until...

"Sire! We are under attack by Spain!" one of the British soldiers burst through the doors. George pursed his lips in anger, how dare Spain to ruin this night of his.

- Edited -