3,000 Miles Away (King George III x Reader)

Chapter 3

The day started off quite excitingly. George dedicated his time to me. It was quite strange and suspicious to me, because it is expected of him to attend to his kingly duties. Instead, we were walking in the gardens, chatting away. Especially about this morning's happenings.

"George, what would you say if I joined the British militia?" I prompted. 

"Well, I'd say you certainly would survive in combat, but you couldn't hide the fact that you're a lady in disguise for long." George casually answered.

This made me scoff.

"If I could keep it, would you suppose that I could rise up in the ranks?"

"Oh yes. Those that are skilled, dedicated, and as intelligent as you are general material."

I silently smiled to myself. The idea of being general was then imprinted in my mind...

"Goodness, look at that gorgeous sunset." I chimed in.

~~~

More and more days strode on by. I was allowed to keep this British uniform on, thankfully. I hope never again to wear a dress. On a more serious note, George kept getting more..."handsy"? Every other move of his was him attempting to hold hands or hug. It made me quite worried.

"George, I'm sure your future wife, whoever it may be, won't be comfortable with you, uh, being friendly to me like this." I blatantly stated.

"Dear, it's alright." George looked somewhat offended.

This is too much. I can't let the kingdom think he's with a commoner. I need to protect him, not destroy him. I began to get really nervous.

"No it's not. I won't be able to live with myself if I hurt you or your reputation." I broke down.

I felt tranquil being able to finally release that conflict. But that feeling didn't last for long. I could visibly see the hurt in his eyes.

"Y/N, where in the heavens did you come up with that theory? You would never hurt me or my reputation. I think it's time for my confession." George's voice cracked.

My heart sunk. What if he didn't want me around anymore? What if it leads to a more complicated situation in between us? I could only hope at this point that it wasn't.

"Take my hand, please." George whispered.

I immediately obliged and slid my hand into his grasp, just like the thousands of times before. He then led us to the center of the garden. Rose bushes adorned the scene. There were at least a couple of dozens of them surrounding us. George graciously bent over to pluck one, gingerly avoiding its hostile thorns.

"My dear, dear Y/N. I have waited sixteen long years for this moment. The heavens have bestowed on to me an angel, and I want to treat her as she deserves. In the nights of my childhood, I would sit on my windowsill, staring at the stars. And I prayed.
I prayed for your safe return to the mainland when you're out on the vast ocean. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I lost my closest friend, and I still won't now. My world lights up every time we meet on the docks, and then it blackens the moment you step foot on the vessel. I want to take you away from that lifestyle, as my wife." George poured his heart out.

His words were a whirlwind in my mind. Take away...lifestyle...my wife. He shares the same feelings as I have. I wanted to say yes, right then and there. I wished for this moment. But an unidentifiable source held me back from fully being committed. Instead, I took it slow, by giving into one small temptation.

I looked into his crystal blue eyes for a small eternity. I could tell he was nervous from my reaction. To him, it probably seemed like an instant rejection. Of course I wouldn't do that to him. Then, I tilted my head, slowly leaning in. It was all or nothing at this point.

I shut my eyes and connected our lips. I could feel George's body jolt a bit, but he eventually relaxed. My heart felt as if it was going to implode, and my mind was buzzing. I couldn't see, feel, touch, or hear any other thing besides George. This is where we belonged, together. 

George wrapped one hand around my head and another to support my lower back. I gently rested my hands on his chest. Eventually, we separated apart, and stared into each others' eyes once again.

"George, of course I want to. But I-I—"

"Y/N, you need to mull this over. This is perhaps one of the biggest decisions you're going to ever make. I don't want to force you one way or another."

"I need time."

"Of course you do. I'll take you on wonderful dates; I'll treat you like a queen, then you can decide when you're ready."

"George, that's the hiccup along the route. I'm no queen, I'm a fisherman. I don't do the fancy dresses, formal etiquette, or any other thing like it."

"I have a mile long list of counterarguments against that! Just, promise me one thing: that you'll give it a chance. For me, if anything."

"Yes George, I promise on my mother's grave."