amorne

[amorne]

I apologize for my absence, I will be sure to return to our darling diamond. In the meantime, The Lady of Light.

[amorne]

She looks at her now with all the adoration she could ever possibly muster. Under the coruscating tint of her eyes, the rose blooms before her. The supple form of her velvet lips, the lush curls that have pooled behind her back .. Daphne has never seen such beauty, not even in the most handsome flowers that bloom in Aubrey Hall. "I am no Queen yet." With her riposte, Daphne's mind flutters to her inner most thoughts, thoughts buried so deep she does not share them with anyone, not even her beloved rose. And if you are Queen? Where will I be then? Will I walk aimlessly among your halls? Will I stand idle as you produce heirs for your king? Will I rot alone while you sit on your throne? She waves away her own musings as quickly as they came. There is no benefit on dwelling on this now. Now, here, Margaery is hers. No one will take her away.

❛❛ Well, if it pleases your lady. ❜❜ A soft giggle escapes her lips. She looks sidewards, stretching out a hand to the closest rose bush. With a simple gesture, a single golden rose blooms. Incandescent, seeming otherworldly in its glow, and just as fast as it had eerily bloomed had it clawed to Daphne's palm. Its aureate petals softly brushing against her milky white skin. She gazes below to meet Margaery's eyes once more. Gently grazing rose petals against her cheek. A beauty unmatched, a love unrivalled.

❛❛ A rose for a rose. Quite poetic, don't you think? ❜❜ Daphne buckles next to her. Hands outstretched to draw her close, embracing every inch of her body, inhaling every scent from the verdant grass to her sun-kissed skin. ❛❛ Well if we are not to talk of forgettable lords, let us talk of an infuriating one. Anthony is once more quarrelling with Mama about Willas. Why he talks of rejecting a proposal from him I will never understand. What finer match could he offer in opposition than a Tyrell? ❜❜

She is entirely too comfortable here, laid out atop a bed of blankets borrowed from the rooms of Highgarden, cozied up with Daphne and away from the loving chaos of her family. Is there any better way to be?  ❛❛ Would it be awful for me to admit that I spent the entire time I was in his presence thinking instead about this little picnic of ours? ❜❜  The most unladylike of giggles flow from her lips for a moment, rising and floating and drifting away on the breeze.

❛❛ I am no queen yet, ❜❜  It falls somewhere between a teasing reminder and a tepid rebuke, if she were at all capable of the latter when it comes to the darling Diamond of the Reach. Her darling Diamond, Margaery rephrases in her own mind, a touch of smugness lent to the thought. Lord Kent certainly does not get such an honour, does he? Nor should he, fool that he is, and from such a minor noble house. That he even thinks either of them might make for a wife is almost offensive, no matter how pretty a face he happens to be in possession of.

The Lady Daphne was quick to recover, but it does not slip the rose's attention (nothing much does); the way that laughter was cut short so suddenly, no matter how prompt the return of sweetness. Even if she does not know precisely what is going on in the other's mind –– a point of great annoyance, really, because Margaery yearns to know every inch of and every edge to her –– she does know that there was something to unsettle her, if even for only a moment.  ❛❛ Whyever are we talking about forgettable lords when we could be talking about anything else, hm? ❜❜  She props herself up a little on her elbows, studying Daphne intently, from the fineness of her features to the way her hair falls over her shoulder to the way her eyes seem to glitter everytime she looks at her.

[amorne]

The anarchic events as of late brought a sudden shudder into the Bridgerton household. There with the abrupt announcement of an engagement between their own Colin with the beloved Penelope Featherington, the astonishing friendship that has blossomed between Eloise and, ever so surprisingly, Cressida Cowper, over the summer that has settled into the social season, and the friendship's eventual fracture, to which Eloise utters no words towards Daphne about either Penelope or Cressida. And of course, perhaps the most shocking of all, the unveiling of the Lady Whistledown, after the ton's arduous attempt at coercing the writer to reveal themself. Peneleope Featherington. Who would have thought.

In all the chaos, all the unsung notes in between, the Duchess turned her deliberation to one miss Cressida Cowper. Over the summer in Aubrey Hall in which Eloise had welcomed Cressida with open arms, much to the confusion of the entire chesnut-haired clan, Cressida had not only shown an entirely new side to herself that, Daphne would argue, no one in the ton had ever seen. But as well, was entirely apologetic over the events of eighteen thirteen social season. In simpler words, the one where Daphne's honour was almost questioned, had it not been for a rapid wedding to avoid Cressida's gossip. Daphne received the apology with all the graciousness she has drilled into her bones, the very picture of a lady, though in integrity, in her own conscience, it was a relief. She, herself, had wronged the Cowper girl in more ways than one. Completely nicked a future that Cressida could have had with a prince, only to throw it away at the last possible minute. It was Simon that she had wanted, yet at the uncertainty of her own future, she took another woman's prize. And so the Duchess extends her welcome, a genuine invitation for companionship, perhaps even an eventual friendship. The world has raised them to be enemies, for so long. They are both tired. They are both ready to be more than what they are told to be.

For that very reason, the Duchess found herself in the particularly somber drawing room of the Cowper household, standing face to face with none other than Lord Cowper himself, Cressida only inches away from them. The Lord had made his stance clear, his voice booming in an otherwise dismal hall. ❛❛ Your Grace, my daughter is to be sent to Wales for a moment of respite from the ton. She is to live with her aunt. Away from all this- this foolishness. Why would a woman- Your Grace expend interest in Cressida, ... I will not allow it. ❜❜ The last five words spoken by Lord Cowper brought the Duchess' usual doe-eyed hues to sharpen. It is a look that she has not donned since inhibiting her title. She has had no use for it. But now, now is the most opportune time. She stands before him not as an ingenue, but a woman with power. A woman with rank far above his own. Which she will use to her advantage. Once more in this charade of society, Daphne dons a mask that she has perfected. She quirks her head to the side, allowing perfectly curled chesnut ringlets to fall just atop her bosom. Soft brows furrow, the rouge on her cheeks accentuated by the ivory flower on her hair. She has her own power. And with the bravado of a woman aware of her own stature. She feigns innocence in a smile. He will never know what hit him. ❛❛ Why Lord Cowper. What a bold assumption. My husband, the Duke, and I, are more than delighted to welcome Miss Cowper in Clyvedon Castle over the summer. She has certainly earned our favour. And as such I would assume you would be exuberant? She is your daughter, after all. And any fortune she is sure to encounter, reflects on your own? ❜❜ She sighs, soft, impatient. The final trick in her masquerade. ❛❛ I do believe it is highly frowned upon to refuse the hospitality of the Duchess of Hastings. ... Is it not? Surely it would be quite the gossip. ❜❜

𝑓𝑜𝑟 @cowpers.

[amorne]

It seemed yet another defeat in an endless list of disappointments in Daphne Bridgerton’s tumultuous albeit sheltered life. Nothing was at all as it seemed. Yet all along, nothing was amiss. In this forlorn, forsaken, damned be all! contract does she find herself shackled to the most antagonizing reality. In his shadow, in the deep tremors of his modulation, in the silence between them in darkened halls, even dampened by covered paintings and grey silhouettes in their existence, nothing is certainly amiss. This is the life the prodigious DOCTOR EMBROSYN VALLIERÉ had in store for her. Her naïveté had always been her downfall.

She had regarded him in high esteem. All those years ago as children and later on as she walked the earth in the shoes of a lady. The very sound of his name being uttered brought the loveliest of flowers to bloom from the lady’s gaze. A delicate shade of blush forming in the apples of her porcelain cheeks. The declaration of their betrothal and wedding caused a mass of angelic singing and bells to flutter on the inside of her ears. She would have, in fact, bloomed for him in the loveliest of ways. Demurely, passionately, she would have dedicated herself to him. A wife, a lover, a partner, his equal. She would have delighted in his pursuits and molded herself to his standards. She would have stood by his side until their hairs grey and their children grown. It was the life she had always wanted, the idealistic vision she had always desired. Broken ever so humiliatingly by the continuous stabs of his rejection.  

Ah, there it is once more. Brooding, austere, agonizing. A tautness grows in the very inside of her throat. Almost closing in on her, curling and pulling. Gloved hands coiling inward in the tightest of fists. Palms growing vermilion by each passing second. Whatever innocence she had left in her fixated doe-eyed stare now transfigured into an untamed beast, clawing its own eyes out.

“I do not question you for it, sir.” The hostility in her retort is unbecoming. LOOK AT WHAT YOU HAVE TURNED ME INTO! GAZE INTO YOUR MARVELOUS WORK! Her nimble ivory slippered feet inch forward, closing the distance between them ever so achingly, her indurated exhale a searing heat against his neck, her upward gaze to pierce his own unrelenting, she musters a tempest she did not know she possessed. WATCH AS THE LOVELY FLOWER BLACKENS INTO AN UNPLEASANT FLAME! “I am simply reminding you of your duty. To this home, to me. If you do not wish to speak of this then what would you have us do instead? With your arrival so soon after your extensive trip?”

HE WADES AS A SORRY SOUL SHOULD IN THE GARDEN OF HER INDIFFERENCE, GAZING WITH A STEADIED EYE THE CHESTNUT RINGLETS OF HER HAIR CRASH AGAINST HER NAPE WHILE SHE TRAIPSED ALONG THE MOORS. THE SOFT EARTH AND COUNTRY LOAM AT ONCE GAVE WAY BENEATH HER IMPATIENT HEELS. WITH BEGRUDGED QUIETUDE AND TENDER CONTRITION, HE WAS REWARDED FOR HIS ATTENTIVENESS BY NAUGHT MORE THAN THE DISINTERESTED FLAT OF HER HANDSOME BACK.

INTO THE FORTY DAYS OF THEIR COHABITATION, EMBRON HAD READILY ASCERTAINED THE KNOWLEDGE OF AS MANY YEARS: HE'D LEARNED, WITH NO MODICUM OF GUIDANCE FROM HIS FAIR LADY, TO INTERPRET HER BRIEF SILENCES AND SIDE-LONG GLANCES AND DOVE-DULL, PROLONGED TONES AS EVIDENCE OF HER ESTEEMED DISPLEASURE OF HIM THAT WHICH SEEMED SO TERRIBLY UNRELENTING IN SPITE OF THEIR MUTUAL TIME. LIKE A FLOWER, THE CONTRACT OF THEIR MARRIAGE HAD WITHERED HER LOVELINESS UNTIL SHE'D LEARNED TO SWALLOW BOTH HER VENOM AND HER HOT TEARS AND HE, THE HOPELESS, FIENDISH OBSERVER OF THE MISSUS VALLIERÉ, WAS MADE TO MARVEL AT HER SEETHING DISLIKE FOR THE REMAINING MORNINGS OF THEIR SHARED EXISTENCE. A TERRIBLE FATE, HE THOUGHT, BEFITTING ONLY OF HIM; SHE WAS, MERELY, ITS REGRETTABLE BYSTANDER.

"SO YOU DO UNDERSTAND, THEN. YOU'VE JUST SAID IT YOURSELF." THE BREEZE TURNED AND THE ONCE-SYMPATHETIC SHADOW QUIPPED FORTHWITH. "THE VERACITY WITH WHICH YOU QUESTION ME FOR IT HAS LEFT ME WONDERING OTHERWISE."

shall i be punished endlessly? begged the physician in-mind, ceasing where in the graveled stones his heavy boots had fallen. the afternoon quieted with his stillness and the earth with it until the only sounds were those of the diaphanous breaths caught in her porcelain rib cage. "we have spoken of this subject at length, my lady, and to speak of it in excess would seem, to me, redundant. it is farcical." their contract, their contract! of misery and loathing and everything in-between! "i had hoped not to speak of this nonsense so soon after my arrival home."

[amorne]

It is a simple fact that all the Bridgerton siblings are different, in their littlest of ways. For how their dear mama managed a household with eight children, Daphne might never know. Eight children, all with their own beliefs, personalities, goals and ambitions. At times it seemed impossible to be heard in a crowd of extremes. It was how to best describe them and their endearing home. Though all loving, it was all consuming in tandem. In short, it was a loud house. Daphne had always been keen on seeing things that often go unnoticed, and as a child she had gathered a particular understanding of the third Bridgerton sister. She was not, in a sense, shy nor reserved, nor closed off. Francesca simply delighted in reprieve; in calm. She blossomed once sat in front of a pianoforte, a language her dearest sister understood the most, even moreso than the words they spoke at home. With this observation, Daphne had made little adjustments in her interactions with Francesca. If all the siblings were particularly rambunctious, Daphne would take Francesca to promenade in their gardens, or sometimes near the lake. And as children, Daphne would delight in having Francesca present for her pianoforte lessons. They would play together after her tutor had left, much to the chagrin of Anthony. It is in these small gestures, these little notes of affection that Daphne has cared for her dearest sister. And having her now, as a woman facing the ton as Daphne did once before, she couldn’t help but inhibit a sense of  pride. Francesca has blossomed in her own time. Just as Daphne had always known.

With her sister’s giggle, she laughs along with her. The familiarity and comfort of their sisterhood filling the lush spring air. “Oh dearest,” she nudges the other playfully. “Involving Lady Danbury AND the Queen? Our dear mama is certainly a force to be reckoned with.” With Francesca’s ensuing words, Daphne questions along with her. Is it, in fact, alright? She herself was to settle for someone else, had the Duke not appeared. Love matches are rare, after all. But each Bridgerton child is due their own love story. That much she’s sure of. “Oh.. well.. While I certainly do not wish to see you settle for a man who does not deserve you.. as you deserve the world, Francesca. Love grows in the most unrevealed places. It does not simply happen, nor magically appear. It is a choice. I choose to love Simon everyday as he chooses to love me. And Anthony and Mama have chosen to love Kate and father. This much I have known from my marriage. You will meet someone who is worthy of all your beauty and talent, dear sister. Perhaps you will meet them soon, simply not in the way you would expect.”

             daphne was everything she wished to be .      the eldest sister was capable , brilliant and the loveliest of the siblings . people of the ton naturally gravitated towards daphne ─── everything was made to be easy and simple when it dealt with her . francesca wished she had an ounce of what the elder sister did . often when she'd walk the halls of the family home or needed a question answered , she found herself missing that warm presence .        ❝         they are .. ───         ❞ anthony and mama were doing the best that they could . she felt as though they both had become understanding of her during the process of debuting , but she still felt a familiar twinge in her chest when catching glances at their mama when she had rejected yet another potential suitor . ❝ ─── they are trying their best . mama has enlisted lady danbury , who has enlisted the queen's match making expertise to find me a husband by the end of the season . ❞

        their intent wasn't malicious      but it did have her laughing a tad at the crazy notion of it all .         ❝         do you think it would be alright if i just .. settled for a hopeful kind man ?         ❞ francesca wasn't made for this lifestyle , and would much rather spend her days somewhere quiet doing what she loved with a potential idea of laughter of children . she wished for love , yes , but how long would she have to wait in order to obtain it ? some spinsters are happier without marriage or children and some spinsters end up waiting a lifetime for that one . ❝ not that i truly wish to settle , but i cannot see myself finding a love match like you , anthony or mama have . ❞

[amorne]

The opalescent candied sky is a testament to the lushness of the country. Even the trees themselves paint a viridescent hue in a cascading horizon. There is warmth in the rays of noon; a faint whistle as people retire in their homes for lunch. The quiet overlapped by the bristle of the wind against the trees. 

She is in front of him now. A true trailblazer, as always. Though curated to perfection, she would rarely allow herself the joys of simple living. A mere promenade in the country; respite from the expectations, the titles — a momentary pause from reality. Though she knows it will never be enough. It is not who she is, not truly. They all must grow up somehow. 

They knew each other as children.  If knowing constituted a brief meeting before Embrosyn was to study abroad. She had thought of him differently then, for how surely she was promised to be his betrothed. An arrangement, long before she turned one and twenty. There is no doubt in her mind that the arrangement brought delight to the Bridgerton household, most especially to their darling matriarch. For it secured the eldest Bridgerton's future to one of the most respected and noble families in the ton. She is to be the wife of a noble doctor, no less. But as all tales run, there was no happy ending in sight. What she was promised, what she envisioned for herself, for her life, faded in a mere moment upon once more meeting Embrosyn's gaze, after years of dreaming of him. There is no affection, no care nor love. There is a contract with a soul she cannot comprehend. With a darkness, clear as day.

She cocks her head to the side, chesnut ringlets falling to one shoulder. The knit on her brow is unmistakeable. Doe eyes growing inches with every passing second. " Well of course, I do understand one's need for solace and privacy. Though you must not be talking of the social season? There are balls to attend, social functions that we are to be called upon. And I have a myriad of events planned for our home. Surely you do not mean as such? " There is a hint of desperation in her question. A silent regression. 'Surely you will not take that from me too?'

" you do not much like attracting notice, do you? "

BEYOND THE DISTANT PLAIN, @amorne, BEYOND THE FANCY TOY ROOFS, A SLOW SUFFUSION OF INUTILE LOVELINESS, A LOW SUN IN A GOLDEN HAZE WITH A WARM, PEELED-PEACH TINGE PERVADING THE UPPER EDGE OF A TWO-DIMENSIONAL, DOVE-GRAY CLOUD FUSING WITH THE AMOROUS MIST. THERE IS A LINE OF FLUFFY TREES SILHOUETTED AGAINST THE HORIZON, THE HOT NOON LINGERING ABOVE A MANICURED WILDERNESS OF CLOVER. HE STEPS IN TANDEM: THE FAITHFUL SHADOW TRAILING AT HER LILY-WHITE HEELS. "NO," ANSWERS HE, " NO. THERE ARE PEOPLE, CERTAINLY, WHO RELISH IN THE STATUS AND ATTENTION SOCIETY GRANTS THEM BUT NO." IT WAS FOR FOOLS. "I FIND SILENCE AND SOLITUDE TO BE FAR MORE REWARDING." A GARDEN SPIDER DAINTILY FEASTS UPON ITS SILK-WRAPPED FLY; A SIGH ESCAPES HIS BLACKENED LUNGS LIKE A GUST OF WIND.

[amorne]

" You’re the only person I’ve ever met who seems to have the faintest conception of what I mean when I say a thing. " - Virginia Woolf

Under the heat of the sun, in a field covered with wildflowers and where the breeze delights in song, two bodies lay interwoven on ivory blankets. Legs tangled up in one another, fingers delicately trailing over each limb. They themselves are blossoming flowers, ever so radiant under the basking sun. In this garden, well tucked away from the prying eyes of others, well protected from judgment, laughter echoes with the dancing of the trees. 

Daphne believed there could be nothing more that could make her happy; none at all but this. It is a rare thing, for sure, to be adored, but it is the rarest of all, to be seen and understood. Margaery sees her, for all that she is. All her hopes, her dreams, her flaws, things that bring her happiness, sorrowful woes. Even upon her debut into the seven kingdoms with the amass of suitors on her beck and call, there was no one else. There was only them. There was only her rose.

She leans forward. The other’s fiery red tresses ensnared in the tips of her fingers. Her scent itself rivaling that of the wildflowers around them. She trails a lingering finger from the other’s arm down to her waist, a curve she could memorize over and over. A gentle sigh escapes her blush coloured lips. "   So what did you think of Lord Kent? He is quite dashing. Though if I do say so myself, he is incredibly daft.  " A wisp of laughter stopped abruptly by her own thoughts. She is daring her own fate, uttering words to gauge the other’s affections. She has an answer she wants to hear. ‘You do not think of him, though. Because you only think of me. Right?’ Nonetheless, her manicured smile returns; curated to perfection. An armour she wears relentlessly. "  If you are to marry I would atleast demand he take history lessons. He is no match for a queen.  "

A Song of Ice and Fire verse, with @wedthrice.

[amorne]

One of the most powerful of the noble houses of The Reach, House Bridgerton is among the oldest and proudest of the great houses.

House Bridgerton’s seat is in Aubrey Hall. The land is known to be the most fertile and abundant among the lands in The Reach. It is most known for its blossoming wisteria flowers and bountiful produce. 

House Bridgerton's sigil is a Wisteria flower on a Wedgwood blue field, and their words are "Together in Bloom."

Descendants of House Bridgerton are known for their chesnut, almost auburn coloured hair and either sapphire or emerald eyes. It is said that starlight itself is captured in the glint of their eyes. They are often clothed in the house’s colour: Wedgwood Blue.

The Bridgertons possess fae blood and are fae-like in their movements. Their skin glows faintly in the dark and glistens under the sun. They are light-footed and it is near impossible to hear their footsteps. Each Bridgerton sibling possesses a magical touch on all living things; plants, animals, flowers, making them healthier and yield more bloom. This is why Aubrey Hall is the most monetarily abundant seat in The Reach. Their loyalty is highly valued by the Tyrell's.

Their power is derived from the health of the land. As long as they are powerful, the land will thrive. If one of them is severely injured or dying, the land will wither.

The eldest Bridgerton daughter, Daphne, is rumored to be the most beautiful of all the children, with her chestnut hair curled in ringlets and her sapphire eyes coated in starlight; possessing an otherworldly beauty. She was kept hidden by her elder brother, Anthony, in Aubrey Hall until she was of marriageable age. Upon her debut she was called ‘The Diamond of The Reach’ due to her star-like quality. Suitors were quick to court her. Rumors of Daphne were quick to reach King’s Landing. 

[amorne]

Daphne is no stranger to the loneliness a new marriage brings. There is bliss, of course. A new home, a husband, days filled with love, nights filled with intimacy and pleasure. Though in all its delight, marriage takes a woman away from the only home she’s ever known, the only family she’s ever had. Daphne has surely had trouble moving to Clyvedon from Mayfair, where the Bridgerton House is. Unconsciously always finding a reason to return to the Bridgerton home; back to her family. And she can only imagine how solitary it has been for the Viscountess, with her own mother and sister so far away from her. 

Upon the Viscountess’ squeeze of her hand, Daphne eases into a comforting smile. In this, she shines best. Best described by the Bridgerton children as “a comforting presence.”, “Someone one runs to when they are feeling unsure; unprepared.” Daphne would take no greater honour than being a guiding light to her family’s woes. At the other’s remark, the Duchess shakes her head in disagreement. " Oh Kate, this family sees you as nothing but a tenacious lioness. There is no one else in the world who can match Anthony’s wild flame, and keep this house, and all of us, in check. And that is you, dear sister. You have done so well. " She in turn, places her other gloved hand atop the Viscountess’. " But I do understand you. There are moments in my new role as Duchess that have made me feel as if I am but a mere mouse. Unknowing and unguided. But I have reminded myself that even the smallest critters bear the greatest spirit, and the bravest souls. " 

Her gaze trails away with Kate’s. She sees her hesitation, the fear upon debuting into a new title, a new life. Daphne has been there once before. She will not let anyone else, let alone her own family, go through it alone. Sapphire painted doe-eyed hues look upon Kate’s own ambers. Genuine concern and empathy glinting from her grip. " Of course. I am nothing but a beacon of honesty. " A slight smile of comfort. " The ton will be nothing if mesmerized when they see the new Viscountess Bridgerton. Everything that has happened is in the past. You are now a Bridgerton, and anyone who dare say an off putting word against one of us will face the wrath of all of us. You will surely sparkle tonight. "

" courage is within us all. "

if kate were truly honest with herself, she would be moved to admit that her time at bridgerton house had been equal parts exhilarating and entirely lonely. although she had her husband and his lovely family to thank for their hospitality, she often found herself longing for the familiar company of her mother and sister. they had been her world for so many years that her new life in the ton was proving difficult to adjust to. she found herself pacing back and forth in anthony’s study, worrying her lip, an hour before the first ball they would throw as viscount and viscountess when daphne found her. kate quickly apologized for her absence but when her dark eyes met with the clear blues of the duchess it compelled her heart to spill all its worries into the space between them.

her gloved hands gave daphne’s a squeeze at the words of reassurance. she couldn’t express just how much she appreciated the elder daughter’s calming presence and what she’d give for her to visit more frequently. “ sometimes it feels as though that courage is purposefully evading me. when i urge myself to be the lion, it seems as though i become the mouse. ” her corners of her lips twitch upwards as she adds. “ and unlike a small mouse, i cannot bury my head and go into hiding. ”

her sights turned to the ajar door, the nervous habit of chewing on her lips resumed. when she turned back to daphne her eyes were wrought with concern, brows pinched tightly together. “ i kindly request you to be honest with me please. how do you reckon the ton will receive their new viscountess ? what with …. ” she trailed off distantly, her thoughts turning to edwina’s wedding followed by her own. even now the doubt and guilt gnawed at her heart if she lingered on the memories for too long. “ … everything. ”

[amorne]

DAPHNE BASSET DELIGHTS IN NOTHING MORE THAN THE COMPANY OF HER FAMILY. Her transition from a lady to a Duchess was outstanding. There were simply too many rules, but ever such a fast learner, Daphne, the diamond of the first water, took everything by stride and soon enough, the new Duchess of Hastings was beloved by all. The staff at Clyvedon had their reservations at first, well founded, yet as time passed the Duchess won them over. Her name now a favourite word spoken in the household.

Their home reflects one of beauty, love and openness. The halls are lined with paintings of generations of Basset’s, and now of their own family. August is merely eleven and already had the entire estate wrapped around his finger. The Duchess couldn’t help but smile. Someday a mass of mamas will be flocking to their doorstep, just as they had when Anthony, the viscount Bridgerton himself, had been in search of a wife. Oh their poor mother. Daphne didn’t realize how much work it truly took to raise a household before she had children of her own. And now that she is a mother, her empathy for her family held no bounds. She felt Francesca’s urgency in escaping to the country. She understood her sister like the back of her hand. Just like Eloise, Francesca needed to make her way through the social season on her own terms. Despite what the ton presumed, the Bridgerton siblings could not be more different, yet alike in all of their desires to love, and be loved in return. Daphne inches closer to Francesca as they sat together on the sofa, her hand gripping her sister’s and giving a gentle squeeze, as the lush colours and sunlight of spring fill their drawing room. " Of course not. I delight in nothing more than having you here in Clyvedon, Fran. " A furrow of her brows, a look known to the Bridgerton’s as “Daphne’s look”. " Is everything alright back home? I do hope Anthony and Mama have been understanding of you this season? I do recall how much pressure one is put in to secure a match. "

@amorne  :         ❝       It’s okay. You can sit here with me for as long as you like.      ❞    <3  °

                   she had showed up on daphne's doorstep      unannounced with no excuses but the simple resolution that she had wanted ─── needed to escape . anywhere to take her further away from the mainline of all of those society papers and into some much yearned for peace . that and regardless , truly she had come to miss daphne an awful lot now that she wasn't around as much .      

                                       sitting back down next to her sister ,      the pair perched on a velvet sofa before a large bay window over looking the lush countryside of spring . everything in and out of their home was lovely and lavish , all just perfectly fit for someone as grand as daphne .         ❝         are you sure i haven't been intruding for too long ?         ❞ upon francesca's brilliant idea to show up as a surprise , she hadn't thought how much she may have been impeding on her sister's tranquility .

[amorne]

#This is your daily reminder that Miss Daphne Bridgerton can and [WILL] play. #She knows. #She knows she has this entire city wrapped around her finger. #She is a performer and she has perfected her craft. #I’m telling you she falls under the Obsessed Artist Trope in this essay I will- #She has spent her entire life curating her image and when it was finally her time to shine she DAZZLED #Look even the Queen is amused #Daphne dropping the fan so the Prince’s gaze falls with the fan [I.E. He sees her figure from her bosom to her feet WHILE #she is fully dressed and dignified] #Her eyes immediately looking back up from the fallen fan back to the Prince’s to evoke devotion and submission? A FEIGNED INNOCENCE? #Her small albeit noticeable opening of her mouth to evoke a sense of surprise urgency BUT ALSO seduction from her lips and EXPRESSION? #It takes a certain kind of talent to be Always sparkling and dazzling BUT #To bring a man [a Prince] to his knees all the while feigning doe dyes ingenuity and KINDNESS BEYOND COMPARE? #Oh she is THE femme fatale. #Daphne did all this in a white dress FULLY CLOTHED AND UNCOMPROMISED she is a MASTERMIND. #She said /I laid the groundwork - And then just like clockwork - The dominos cascaded in a line - #What if I told you I’m a Mastermind? - AND NOW YOU’RE MINE - It was all my design. #Me to Miss Daphne Bridgerton: 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

Taylor Alison Swift wrote this for [one] Miss Daphne Bridgerton. You know what's surreal to me that I figured out from this? Daphne has curated perfection for herself ever since she was a child. She demanded it for herself, crafted and molded herself into the idealized version of what a Lady should be. And she has been this way since she was a child. Do you understand how much pressure that is? To strive for something [unattainable]? That's fucking insane. AND YOU KNOW WHAT? This is partly why Simon expressed hesitation in having children with Daphne [Of course he has his own trauma and that's an entirely separate post], but subjective to Daphne [from Simon's point of view], her self-induced perfection is obvious, and for someone who has been labeled imperfect as a child, to try to even be a part of that must've brought up so much trauma. Simon felt like he could not live up to Daphne's curated perfection, and what if their child couldn't as well? This is pivotal for Daphne's character because through learning of Simon's story, hearing his side of it, and finally understanding him, she comes to the realization that perfection is unattainable. It's not real. The impossible burden she has placed on herself is not a burden anyone else can [or should] carry. "Just because something is not perfect, does not make it any less worthy of love." Daphne herself realizes that she does not need to be perfect in order to be loved or respected or cherished. It is precisely her loud snorty laugh, her cheeky opinions, her teasing nature, her competitive streak, her puns and love of love that makes her enough. She, her true self, is enough.

[amorne]

God can I just, yell for a second. Daphne and Simon really started with a teasing partnership turned friendship, meaningless flirtation, were so open to each other because of their ruse, allowed each other into the deepest parts of their soul, and after overcoming their own traumas, built a life together, had six children, grew old together. The very picture of devotion.

[amorne]

@ldyinsilver        ∶        " Do you think Benedict will like it? "

THERE IS A ROSEATE GLOW IN THE WARMTH OF HER SMILE. Daphne had always felt it her responsibility to ensure her siblings happiness. Alongside Anthony, being the eldest of the female born Bridgerton's came with its own set of expectations and responsibilities. Least to say, the Duchess was overjoyed when she heard about the famed masked woman at their family’s own masquerade ball that swept Benedict’s heart away. She could not be more delighted upon meeting Miss Beckett herself. There is a kindness in her, but at the same time a ferocity that is often a requirement when marrying into the Bridgerton family. [They are most competitive after all, just look at Pall Mall].

" Why yes! You have captured his taste exquisitely, Miss Beckett. I’m quite impressed, if I do say so myself. " Daphne speaks in a light hearted tone as she gazed at the intricate painting perched in their drawing room. It is truly exquisite, and Daphne had no doubt her dear brother would be smitten with both the painting and Miss Beckett’s affections towards him. The painting itself could be construed as simple when paired against the grand paintings of Queen Charlotte, however, there is a certain intimacy to it; conveying authenticity and a genuine appreciation for the craft. It reminded Daphne of the late Duchess’ of Hastings painting that she and Simon love so dearly. She turns to face Sophie, a lightness and vivacity in her step. " Oh I am most excited! What else have you planned for your evening? "

[amorne]

@nurturesmind        ∶        " you’re supposed to be on my side! "

THERE IS A SINCERITY IN HER VOICE THAT CANNOT BE MISTAKEN FOR ANYTHING ELSE. Brows furrow at the younger Bridgerton’s remark. Daphne had always been doting of her sisters. Wishing nothing but the best fortunes to befall upon their lives. It is with Eloise that she finds most difficult to extend her heart. For being of the same blood, they could not be more dissimilar.

The season has already brought scandal for the Bridgerton’s. With Anthony and Miss Edwina Sharma’s abrupt cancellation of their wedding, everyone has been on edge. More so the Duchess herself, as she has taken to the role of perfection from an early age. [Perfection at the cost of her own heart].

Daphne re-aligns herself. Taking a small breath, and once again addressing her sister, this time with less irritability. " Eloise. Surely you do not think that I am on anyone else’s side other than yours in this matter? I will always be by your side. You know this. " An abrupt pause, she changes her course once more. " However, this is simply not a matter of discussion. You were seen, Eloise. Lady Whistledown has written about your meeting with this gentleman, unchaperoned, no less. You do understand the implications of your— " Her sentence is cut short as hazel doe eyes seem to widen even further. The duchess had come to a realization that she was once in the exact same predicament, with others deciding upon her fate. When all she needed was someone to listen to what she had to say. How could she so hastily judge her dear sister? She sits next to Eloise, her hands reaching out to clasp her own. She does not need more lecturing. Now, more than ever, she needed a kind ear for her thoughts, and a warm embrace for her sorrows. " I apologize, sister. I'm sure you've had enough lecturing from Mama and Anthony... Tell me, who is this gentleman? And how was he ever so lucky to share your company? "

[amorne]

Eloise [S2, EP1]: Everytime I walk into a ballroom, I know they are comparing me to Daphne. She was so good at being the diamond and it made my mother so happy. I can never live up to that. I do not want to live up to that, but it does not make it any easier to know you are constantly disappointing people just by walking into a room.

[amorne]

@wistledown        ∶        " you make it sound so easy. "

DOE EYES PEER AT PENELOPE FEATHERINGTON'S REMARK. The Duchess cannot help but to give a small smile [to save herself from what she believes to be embarrassment, of course], to which she then looks at the red head even further; confusion rather evidently painted in the arch of her brows. " Penelope... " A brief pause. " I do apologize if I have offended you in any way.. It is simply what has worked for me for my own season.. I do hope you not think I am high in the instep for such a remark. "

The ball is well in its festivities. Young ladies dancing with gentlemen who they hope to share a home one day.. To share love. Even their own Francesca seemed to enjoy the melodic tune as she danced away with a gentleman, seeming to enjoy his company. She is beautiful, and as her elder sister, Daphne couldn't be more proud. It is the same sisterly bond she feels for Penelope, having seen her grow up in Bridgerton House with Eloise all these years. They all hold a special place in her heart. She faces the youngest Featherington once more as she extends an utmost sincere affirmation. " You are beautiful, Penelope, and any gentleman who shall be your husband is the luckiest man in the world. You must be true to yourself, and trust me, the right person will love you all the more for it. "

[amorne]

Daphne punched him in the arm. “Kindly recall that there is a lady present, churl.” But there was little ire in her voice. Of all her siblings, Colin was the closest to her in age—only eighteen months her elder. As children, they had been inseparable—and always in trouble. Colin was a natural prankster, and Daphne had never needed much convincing to go along with his schemes. “Does Mother know you're home?” she asked.