#and the fact that she can't get the pink extension to fit her and gets frustrated about it

[boop-le-snoot]

marmalade taffy

Helmut Zemo smut & feels. Soft!Dom Zemo, non-superhero!AU, Zemo being the weird uncle of college!Maximoff twins. This was written on a whim so if someone signs up to beta-read, I will shower you with affection and reminders to drink water. The Reader is addressed as "you" and is not described - race/age/body type neutral. The language I used for Sokovian is actually Serbian. Word count 2,8k.

Fun fact: I have mild synesthesia. Emotions/feelings and some people have an assigned color (and sometimes smell) for me. That's how the name of the fic was born. This fic feels like the colors of marmalade and taffy, look them up. This fic is dedicated to my lovely @slothspaghettiwrites , the shining beacon in my misty, rocky beach. (You're a periwinkle for me, by the way. I thought you might ask.)

When you first see him all you do is raise an eyebrow. His sleek, well-maintained vintage car stands out almost grotesquely amongst the various sedans and mom vans on the campus and you can see the glint of his wristwatch even from afar. Wanda's and Pietro's sheepish smirk only makes the situation worse - the girl's attire obviously screams "liberal arts" and her twin brother doesn't seem to have anything better to wear than tracksuits.

The man behind the wheel is unfazed. He is calm and collected in that European way, not conceited, just waiting. For what? You don't know. His eyes trail over you but he doesn't smile, simply gives a tiny polite nod. If you hadn't had extensive conversations about cultural differences with Wanda, you'd say he was extremely rude.

Shy, quiet Wanda, who's eyes lit up seeing her favorite not-actually-uncle. In a surprising dash of energetic agility, she hopped right into the car, her numerous scarves a bright flash of saturation against the campus grayscale. You giggle and wave at the departing car, snorting when Wanda's hand reaches over to briefly honk the horn, causing the driver to swerve the tiniest bit, his eyes trained on you in the rearview mirror.

He comes and goes often. Almost always in a different perfectly restored vintage car, mostly with the same polite mask of bored contentment. You know he's royalty in his home country and can't help but wonder how frivolously the twins act around him - no, free. He gives all the appearance of a silent, strict man.

You're proven wrong rather quickly. Freshman year left behind you, you and Wanda decide to ditch the dorms for an apartment - she finds one rather quickly and it's just you two in it even though it is ridiculously huge and the rent amount she requests is equally ridiculously small. Not the one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you pretend nothing is out of the ordinary and buy yourself a new pair of shoes.

Helmut - Wanda finally formally had introduced you two - doesn't come by often, however the visits are always... Eventful. He's not at all what it seemed to be; in the quiet of your apartment, a witty, incredibly clever man resurfaces from under the stoic façade. The Slav in him easily lets him consume alarming quantities of alcohol together with Pietro, who opted to stay in the dorms with his idiotic football team, and - you couldn't believe your eyes at the time - dorkily dad-dance squat in the middle of your living room, unfazed by your and Wanda's cackling.

The way Helmut is absolutely unbothered by the audience and the laughter, pale face flushed from the wine and a little smirk stretching his thin lips into expression almost catlike. The maroon turtleneck stretches nicely across his chest, as thinly as your lip that you worry between your teeth.

Pietro raises an eyebrow. You shrug.

"Got something in your eye, no?" He teases playfully and you shrug again, taking another swig of your nice, European beer.

There are more gatherings, more parties and quite a few rides in his car, when the wind blows your hair in all directions possible and intermingles it with Wanda's as you giggle and squeal in the back seat. Helmut always indulges you two; the word 'no' simply does not exist in that man's vocabulary. He insists politely but firmly on a dinner with all three of them on your birthday and the gifts he brings make your eyes pop out and your face heat.

"A woman like you makes any sensible man want to shower you with the finest gifts," Helmut's voice is quiet and his accent is thick and somehow, it makes it all that harder to refuse. He smiles like usual - tiny and a little secretive, as he pecks your cheek, filling the air around you with the smell of his cologne. It makes your mouth water and your fingers clench helplessly around the half a dozen of silk paper-wrapped boxes.

The summer rolls in and it's hot and humid and finally you don't have to worry about waking up at the crack of dawn or classes or the annoying boys who can barely take a no for an answer. The invitation to Helmut's villa doesn't come as a surprise; Wanda had been riled up over it since early May and Pietro and his whole damn football team were equally as thrilled.

You pack flowy dresses, daisy dukes and swimsuits. The expensive jewelry and handbag Helmut had gifted you, too, since the villa is surrounded by a whole neighborhood meant solely for the rich and famous. Wanda is absolutely unbothered by her own bohemian chic and you quietly envy her; the longer you get to know her, the more you realise of how much actually she does not give a fuck about anything besides her paintings and sculptures.

It's admirable, really, because she is talented. And Helmut knows it, too, having had collected and kept every single work Wanda had made, showing it off in the various rooms of his two-story mansion. The abstract fits in well and is a great conversation topic for him and his equally important friends. There's an endless stream of them in the first days and Wanda isn't overtly happy, choosing to run away to laze around the pool with you more often than not.

Helmut's friends stop at the glass wall between the inner side of the house and the pool to stare at you two, too, causing something dark and tense flash across his features. There always had been a sort of tangy obscurity in him, you've noticed, but not nearly enough for you to grow concerned. It added the bittersweetness, the flavour and consistency to the modest man.

Although calling him modest might have been a mistake. The moment you can't shake off one of his friends after a polite chit-chat seems to never end, Wanda nowhere in sight, dread and unease digging their sharp, spindly fingers in the soft flesh behind your rib cage, Helmut is suddenly there, arm wrapped almost possessively around your waist.

"Draga mea, Wanda is looking for you. She says it's urgent," He stares the man down with the eyes of a vulture. "I believe we haven't been properly introduced," Helmut seems to not realize he's still clutching you in a grasp of steel as the man opposite you rumbles out his name, few syllables you'd forgotten seconds after he spoke them for the first time.

"Baron Helmut Zemo," the fingers brush and squeeze once, gently, over the valley of your waist before letting go. You miss the rest of their peacocking, walking away with a fight and fire inside of your hammering heart. Anxiety and longing and confusion mix and blend, combining into a cocktail that has you beelining for the bar like a woman parched.

The next day you're sleeping off the hangover, first in your bed and then by the pool - Wanda had run off into town for one thing or another, and knowing her, she'd be back home at the crack of dawn. It was blissful peace, the soothing balm for your troubled heart and your aching head.

"Hungover?" Helmut's voice was quiet and a little bit teasing. None of the Eastern Europeans had ever showed the signs of having any ill effects from the alcohol they drunk, unlike you.

You stretched, too blissed out to care about the skimpy strings and straps of your bikini, basking in the gentle morning sun. "Mmm, not anymore," a swim in the cold pool had done wonders.

Your soft pink float rocked as Helmut's footsteps quieted, giving way to a short splash and the sound of his breathing somewhere in your space. Just as you cracked open your eyes, he reached out a hand to steady himself next to you. "I wanted to apologize for the situation yesterday. That man was stepping out of line. He is not welcome in my home anymore."

You stare at him and then you snort. The blunt was he usually speaks is so easy, it flows oh so effortlessly. No mind games, just honesty. You want to pay him back in kind. "Don't worry, Helmut. I just had a bit too much to drink," that was the truth. Any other time and you wouldn't have hesitated to unapologetically steer clear of any creep. Heat and bubbly don't mix and that was your own mistake.

"No, printsesa," the man in front of you let loose some of the delicious darkness, eyes growing stormy, hand gently resting over yours. "Some men are fools, they are nothing but animals. You deserve to feel safe, especially in my home." His lips stretched into a smile, water dripping down his jaw and making tiny circles form in the azure of the pool.

"I can't argue with that," you replied, catching the stray liquid and following the trails it made with your eyes. His forehead, dripping down over his eyes, making Helmut blink the stray drops away until they landed on his lips, trickling down his chin.

You swallowed, opting to dip your toes into the cool pool water before you could make a fool of yourself. The water splashed towards him, making a mischievous grin grace his usually serious face, as me made a half-hearted attempt to splash back weakly, making the water sizzle on your sun-kissed skin. Never the one to back down from a challenge, you knitted your eyebrows in mock offense, eagerly letting the water wash over you as you abandoned the float in favour of creating waves with your whole body.

The temperature contrast was delicious and Helmut's laugh even more so as it echoed in between the high walls of the building surrounding the pool. The sun was nearly at its peak, shining over your head in a beacon of heat that almost matched the one inside of you, the one that had blossomed there months ago and finally grew into a steady smolder, shooting sparks whenever you were around the baron.

It was hot and wet, the same feeling chasing you two when you finally kissed. His hand firmly planted on the side of your neck, his nose softly brushing against the underside of your jaw, Helmut was in no rush to taste you, to savour every millimeter of your sun-kissed skin. The man left you with your fingertips trembling and heart scrambling for purchase somewhere in the deepest pits of your belly.

"What are you so hungry for, mmm?" Helmut's voice rumbled next to the shell of your ear; you could barely focus, skin singing underwater, where he held onto you like a lifeline. "You have hungry eyes, ljubavi, tell me what it is and I'll give it to you," your bodies pressed flush against each other, his eyelashes flittering against your cheek.

"You," the maximum capacity for your brain was one-syllable words and you used it sparingly, failing to suppress a gasp when Helmut's mouth latched around a particularly sensitive spot right under your jawline.

Teeth scraped over it before he soothed the sting with his tongue. "All the things in the world, I could give them to you. And yet..." He sounded almost disappointed. Perplexed, just as you were at the strange admission. "A woman like you would have men fighting for your attention yet you give it to me so freely," he murmured softly, capturing your lips in a slow, fluid kiss once more. "I will make sure you have everything you could ever want."

Helmut's touch grew bolder as he steered the two of you towards the shallow end of the pool. The taste of him was intoxicating, like the sweetest, most alluring poison you'd ever tasted: you knew that once you had one small bit, you'd be addicted, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. His words were clever and his mouth even more, making the short stumble upstairs last hours.

A wall, baroque tapestry, marked with the wetness of the pool water, where you allowed yourself to be pressed against as he leaned into you with the entirety of his broad frame, domineering the kiss effortlessly.

You panted as your back hit the soft, million-thread count, unmade sheets of the baron's bed, staring up into his eyes and finding your own reflection in his pupils, blown wide with lust. The tiny smirk was back but now his unexpressive face was marred by a gleem, accentuating his moist, puffy lips you'd licked into and bitten in a heated frenzy.

"Beautiful, printsesa," he stated with quiet firmness, leaning over into you to unclasp and toss away the upper part of the bikini. The bottoms followed suit, flung carelessly somewhere. His hands ran over your as it sang, every tiniest nerve hypersensitive, coming alive with a fervor borne of months of longing, complimented by the summer heat and cool waters.

"Helmut," your voice wavered, flowed on the syllables as his clever, clever mouth trailed hot down your chest, briefly submerging each nipple into the sear of it. Goosebumps rose over your exposed body, highlighting a trail for him, a trail he followed eagerly. Kisses were candy sweet and marshmallow soft.

Hot breath at the apex of your thighs had you mewling and arching into it, having abandoned all shame, and Helmut found it amusing. The petite chuckle made an appearance, his fingertips ghosting over the part of your lower lips; he was as amused by your impatience as he was enthralled by the youthfulness of the gesture. "Shh, ljubavi, I will make it feel better," his accent as thick as clover honey and just as saccharine.

The first movements were tentative, brief and so light, the demanding moan slipped out of your mouth along with a growl of frustration. You felt continuous chuckling, slight stubble rasping along the sides your thighs; you felt him pick up pace and steady his hot hands on your hips as you attempted to trash against the overwhelming stimulation your pussy was receiving.

His moans, loud and wet, drove you closer to the edge like a drunk drove a Ferrari; Helmut's skill was unparalleled but it lacked precision as he lost himself in the moment just as much as you.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm- I'm so close," you managed to grunt out before the crescendo hit, eyes rolling back into your skull as the influx of more, more, more hit every nerve ending in your body. You could do little more than rest your legs on his shoulders as the noble man, the quiet storm lapped up every drop of your release.

He made the inside of you weak.

In seconds, Helmut was back on top of you, grinding his arousal into you desperately, almost begging for it and all you could do was let your body respond, mimic your lover, clench around nothing just as you felt him twitch.

"Tell me you're mine," he demanded hooking one of your legs over his hip, eyes boring into yours with everything in them plain on display. It was a terrifying thing: as if your heart had suddenly grown legs, stood up and walked out into the bare, wide world, open for all to see. "Ti moa, skaži eto," his native tongue made his voice even more hoarse, you couldn't resist anymore.

"I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours," you chanted the words like a prayer, hoping he'd be merciful - and he is. No, there's only a hidden tenderness in his hands as he drives into your with increasing force that shakes you and makes your core quiver, igniting your flesh once again like the color red; it's messy and it's sloppy and you're barely aware of Helmut muttering something into the crook of your neck as you feel yourself clench down on him with a choked moan.

"Fuck," hearing him, the polite composed man, bite the end of his own orgasm into a curse made a wave of magenta hot rush travel through your body at lightning speed, his cock pulsating and coating you, claiming you from inside out so sweetly you couldn't resist a shallow gasp into his cheek, a gasp he mirrored as his own oversensitive flesh was once more assaulted by your combined lust.

The tide of his breathing was high; both of you spent yet still drunk on the newfound sense of togetherness. It was clear as a summer's day that in your arms laid a man who'd once lost something important and you - you were a someone who's never had anything of significance and perhaps, this time each other's arms would let you both keep whatever it was that you missed.

[lizzybeth1986]

Quick Thoughts on DD Book 1 Chapter 4

• Jesus, this book is expensive.

• Like I assumed Chapter 3's one accomplishment-one-or-two-LIs-or-a-family-member thing would be a one-off, just to introduce us into the system/ease us into the story, but no...they've (sort of) repeated it this chapter. I was hoping they would spread out the accomplishments at least, but perhaps they want us to have at least most of the accomplishments worked out before we leave for London.

• I really hope this doesn't become a regular thing because it will only cause players to lose interest in the books for lack of affordability, in the long run. As it is the book largely caters to a niche audience...alienating that audience by having them lose of on half the story won't bode well for the book.

• Title: Best Foot Forward. Man, this one is easy. Of course it refers to dancing. And quite a lot of dancing is done this chapter, that's for sure!

• Sooo...the Earl has decided to introduce us into society in Edgewater with a garden party. Lots of hobnobbing, some dancing, a few games and you meet at least one 'suitor'.

• Did You Know: According to writer and garderner Kim Wilson, who wrote a book titled In the Garden with Jane Austen, gardens were viewed as markers of social status. In an interview with The Scotsman, she says, "each family's garden reflected not only their needs but, if they had enough money, their social aspirations". The poor cottagers of the time were mostly concerned with growing food and having a place to keep their chickens whereas wealthier families would have had kitchen gardens, but also often extensive pleasure grounds, which were places to display their wealth and taste. (from an article about Jane Austen's love for gardens in The Scotsman).

• Last chapter had us learning (optionally) the art of the fan from our Lady Grandmother, so it makes sense that what happens in this chapter is this:

Lololol just kidding.

• So the chapter begins with the MC and Briar talking. Briar is excited about the fact that a Duke (who, she reminds us, is "one step below a Prince Regent"), and the MC can either choose to be excited or very confident. Interestingly, if you're excited, she reminds you to "not forget your roots", which I think is a recurring theme in this book. After all, that was the last thing the MC's mother told her on her deathbed.

• Dominique enters the room and both she and Briar present us with a pretty pink lace dress that is sure to improve both our social standing and catch everyone's eye at this introductory garden party.

• It looks quite pretty, actually. But that's because I love lace.

• We head downwards, finding Annabelle performing for herself in the foyer and having a thoroughly good time.

• I'm wondering if I should have a tally for the number of times she says "a thousand pardons" (and for the record, I think her way of saying "fiddlesticks" is adorable xD).

• Our third "accomplishment" (and our second paid one) is presented to us here: dancing. It's not like the MC doesn't know dancing - she does - it's that the country dances (this might be a reference to the English Country Dances that were popular among all classes) are different from the ones Annabelle has learned, and indeed the popular ones for the aristocracy that are coming in from other places, like France.

• Annabelle mentions a couple of dances that were popular for its time: the cotillion (originated from France), the Quadrille (also from France), and La Boulanger (also French). If we choose the shoes the Lady Grandmother got made for us, Annabelle wastes no time in teaching us the last one.

• Annabelle speaks to us about the Quadrille being new. She isn't lying. The Quadrille became fashionable in England around 1815.

• Again, the good thing about the accomplishment scenes is that they're meant only for learning the skill, and Annabelle can develop in her individual scenes independent of this. Though I'm not sure if cramming both her individual scenes and her accomplishment scenes in the same chapter, two chapters in a row is a very good idea.

• Another marker of how new the MC is, lies in her interaction with Mr Woods (who is perhaps the only member of the housing staff we see at the party. Briar disappears completely after she's done her work of getting the MC ready, and Luke doesn't appear either). Mr Woods is surprised the MC deigns to speak to him in public, and Henrietta uses her interaction with him to point out how little she fits in, what with talk of the MC's "roots".

• Lol the exchange with the Earl if you bought the scene with the Lady Grandmother is quite funny haha. He speaks about Dominique drilling him into learning the names of all the families and the MC - saucy little shit that she is 😄 - looks at her fan and says "oddly enough, I know exactly what you mean".

• Ernest Sincliare makes his appearance after two chapters, and there's some banter about compliments if you're wearing the pretty lace dress I think. She teases him about it and he retorts that since he passes compliments so rarely, you can be sure that when he does he means every word. I can see that logic in that, Sinclair, but must you look like a child who has accidentally sucked on a particularly sour lemon when you do? 😂

• Throughout the chapter, you get references to the Season in London, and each time the MC by default takes it for granted that she will not be going there. Sinclaire hosts parties in London, Annabelle Parsons will be going there for the Season. Up until the end of the chapter, the vibe given overall is that she won't be seeing the two for a while now that they will be leaving Edgewater, and she won't.

• Did You Know: The London Season was developed to coincide with the sitting of parliament. During the months when parliament was in session, members of both Houses needed to be in attendance in London and came to the capital bringing their families with them. The London season grew up in response to this influx of upper class people who needed to be entertained.

Amanda Foreman, in her biography on Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, stated: "the aristocratic "season" came into existence not only to further the marriage market but to entertain the upper classes while they carried out their political duties. The season followed the rhythm of Parliament: it began in late October with the opening of the new session, and ended in June with the summer recess.” of course, later on this period of time gradually began to shift.

There also seems to be something called the "little season", but that seems more a fixture of the Victorian age than the Regency one (as mentioned in the article on the London Season from the Regency History website).

• The Earl and Mr Sinclaire share a more than cordial relationship: the Earl treats him with considerable warmth and Sinclaire shows a genuine respect and regard for him. You have a choice of asking him whether it is the Earl - or you - he has respect for (and the second option leads to a romantic moment), but it is what he says about the Earl, and his later interaction with Duke Richards that intrigues me:

What happened to Ledford Park that the Sinclaires almost lost it? Why does his statement towards the Duke about Ledford sound so accusatory? Why is there such a strong undercurrent within the latter interaction? I want to know what the story behind Ledford Park is, and how the Earl helped save it.

• One of my favourite Sinclaire-related sequences is an additional scene featuring the fan, as taught to us by the Dowager Countess the previous chapter. I tried the last two with Florence, the MC who has no interest in Sinclaire:

(the first four screenshots are from the "friends" option, and the next four from the "go away u suck" option)

Meanwhile, Marianne just goes in for the kill, fam. Homegirl didn't learn all those thot moves from Grandma for nothing 😄

I do like that extra bit of sexual tension in this scene. I'm not very into Sinclaire yet, but I can see the appeal he'd have for someone who would want the Mr Darcy type of Regency male LI character. You also see a fair bit of it in the scene where the MC asks him if it is her he respects:

• Sinclaire, dude, what is it with you and Italics??

• We now interrupt our regular programme with a game of Skittles. I'm not sure how many of you assumed Regency-era aristocrats were going to start passing around fruit-flavoured candy but I sure did 😂

• So this is skittles, played with nine pins. Very much one of the precursors to present day bowling from what I've read. Playing this game, and beating a champion like Mr Sinclaire at it will not only allow you to spend time alone with him, but also increase your social standing.

• It's simple enough: hit the red pin in the centre, and if you want you can distract the hell out of Sinclaire after he's fired his first shot.

• Twice this chapter, you see our resident comic relief for the day: Miss Theresa Oh-My-Smelling-Salts Sutton, and Mr Edmund Do-I-Look-Like-I-Care Malcaster, and I've decided I like them both (I wanted to add screenshots, but tumblr mobile sucks and won't let me put up more than ten images 😒)

• So we meet the "handsome", "titled" eligible bachelor our Lady Grandmother wanted us so badly to marry and...

...um. lol. ok.

Handsome? Charming? When was the last time you looked in the mirror dude, 20 years ago?

• You have a choice of how to respond after Duke Richards insults Mr. Sinclaire. You can either choose the Manners option, or you can choose to outright sass the man. If you don't sass him? The Lady Grandmother will do it for you.

• With the Manners option we find out that the Duke is 51 years old.

• With the non-manners option we find out that the dude likes saucy little minxes.

• @ the last panel in Florence's playthrough, Grandma even you can't deal with this dude for two minutes without nodding off. Why are you dumping him on my head then? (don't tell me. I know the answer 😐). See, this is why Florence will eventually kiss her inheritance goodbye lol.

• Jesus can this man just...speak two words without touching me??

• FINALLY. Miss Parsons. We choose a hiding place to get away from the Duke and then she offers to show us a new part of the estate: the lakefront. The great thing about gardens, esp in the writing of the time, was that it provided privacy for people at the time and allowed them to interact in ways they couldn't in public.

• Did you know: Austen herself used gardens pretty extensively in her writing. Mr Knightley confesses his love to Emma close to a shrubbery. Elizabeth jokes to her aunt about deciding to marry Mr Darcy after seeing the grounds in Pemberley. Fanny Price of Mansfield Park remarks, “To sit in the shade on a fine day, and look upon verdure, is the most perfect refreshment.” Catherine Morland of Northanger Abbey falls in love with hyacinths, Marianne Dashwood of Sense and Sensibility has a passion for fallen leaves in an autumnal garden, while Anne Elliot of Persuasion is always inspired to think of poetry when enjoying the beauties of nature.

Susannah Fullerton in her essay "Jane Austen and her gardens" (for the website Garden Drum) says: "Many proposals [in Austen's novels] take place out of doors where lovers can find some privacy amongst the gravel walks and flower beds; garden improvements are planned by some of the characters; and her heroines all enjoy going into a garden to think". 

• Makes sense then that one of the special scenes of this largely "forbidden" relationship (if you choose for that to happen) would take place in greenery, close to a lake. If you notice, it's quite in keeping with the times that most of the romantic moments this chapter happen either in an isolated section of the gardens or while dancing, both of which allow for some measure of interaction between people interested in each other.

• Miss Parsons, the legendary hero of a Duck Prophecy xD

• I love her in this scene. Sure she gets shy when she receives attention she's not used to from us, and she's kind and educative and sweet, but she's also boisterous and passionate and not afraid to pull punches when she needs to (case in point: the shade she immediately throws Henrietta's way regarding her "tutelage"). This scene has her stealing cake from the party to feed the ducks, getting exhilarated from the race and her new friendship with the MC, and feeling extremely confused by her feelings if you speak to her romantically.

• The first half of this scene is pure fun, but the second inevitably shows the two women experiencing a sense of loss that their connection will be cut short - whether they are friends or whether this is a budding romance.

• What I do love about both the romance scenes are the extra touches added to both in the coding. In the skittles scene with Ernest, Marianne is spoken of by default as brushing her hand against his before giving him the ball, whereas Florence simply passes it to him.

• Even with Annabelle, if you acquire romance points with her, the ending of that scene is written quite differently:

I absolutely love this part of the scene. And given that very often the female LI is treated like just the default best friend with some stray romance options attached, it really does feel good to have that sexual tension acknowledged.

• Florence, babe, what is it with you and Italics??

• TIME TO PUT ON OUR DANCING SHOES GUYS (if we bought them).

• So we're doing a dance called La Boulanger...which kinda looks like this:

You dance in a circle, then keep switching partners.

• Did You Know: that the Boulanger was one of the very few dances mentioned by name in Jane Austen's novels? (Pride and Prejudice Chapter 3. I think the reel is mentioned in another).

• I have two left feet unless someone is heavily choreographing a flash mob and spends ages teaching me the steps lol so this looks pretty complicated to me 😂

• You have an option of choosing between Mr Sinclaire, Miss Parsons and Duke Richards. The first two are the usual you'd expect from romantic dance scenes if you choose either of the first two, impressing them with your dance moves and then catching their eye when you're dancing with Edmund, your stepbrother. With Miss Parsons there is an additional show of boldness in that there is a danger of making their affections public.

• The Duke Richards option, which I managed to see thanks to @i-dream-so-i-write ...seems pretty okay actually. He doesn't seem as handsy and creepy as he does in our first meeting (there is a moment where his "hands skim your waist" though, and he tells us we've been apart too long [a couple seconds, tops]), but he's also still talking our ears off. If anyone is interested in seeing it, I can attach the screenshots!

• This man is so freaking extra I can't even.

• The chapter ends with the Earl announcing that he is changing his will, and that the MC is heiress to Edgewater Estate now, which makes it essential for her, then, to make her debut at the London Season, and begin searching for prospective bridegrooms.

• There is a catch though. You get the inheritance if you marry someone of suitable rank. In short...at this point in the story, Marianne is doing alright, but Florence is well and truly screwed until there is a twist somewhere (and surely there will be at some point). Sorry Florence.

• Henrietta has something up her sleeve, and Edmund, who was expecting to inherit, is sad and tells the MC so. You get a relationship point with him if you tell him you understand how it must feel, but he reiterates that you probably won't. We have time, we can still get this dude (and his palpitating fiancée) on our side. Maybe.

• Looks like we'll be starting our journey to London straightaway, and making our debut in London at Mr Sinclaire's party by Chapter 6. Alsooo from the spoilery chapter descriptions it looks like Mr. Marlcaster will try tripping us up at least once, or more than once. Also looks like we have two more skills on our accomplishment board to learn. So far we've gotten needlework, music and dancing - we now need to see what the other two are. I THINK one of them is painting.

General Thoughts:

• Good chapter. It's a little slow which is fine, because I think all the action will actually happen during the London Season instead. We meet only two suitors, one of whom we have already met in the first chapter.

• I feel like the extra scenes that we'll get with the unlocked accomplishments will include other styles of the same art. We initially learn the piano, but I feel like unlocking it will lead to extra scenes with other instruments, and unlocking the dancing shoes will show us extra scenes of Annabelle teaching us other dances (the waltzes, the reel, etc). I'm not entirely sure about this, it's just a theory I have. I mean, once we're in London we'll need to learn waltzes and the minuet and stuff.

• Luke doesn't make an appearance this chapter, but then again nor does Briar as soon as the MC gets ready. I think we'll see more of him now that we will be traveling to London.

• Donna Hatch's (who writes a ton of historical romances, esp Regency) essay on the London Season lists the months active in each year for it, and in 1816 it was from February to July. In the story it's now the beginning of April. Usually it's best to go at the very start if you're looking for marriage prospects, but given the MC's particular circumstances this time of the season isn't too bad either I'd reckon.

• Remember how I told you guys last chapter about the inclusion of Mary Brunton's Self Control? And how she criticizes the popular "rake" figure in Regency fiction? I'm not sure Duke Richards adheres completely to how rakes were depicted at the time, but he definitely does seem to be channeling Colonel Hargrave a little here.

• I wonder what the Duke seems to be hiding. Besides of course the truth of his equation with Sinclaire. Why is he so focused on this new woman? I think there might be more to this. I also can't wait to see the other suitors, like the viscount and Mr Chambers.

• I do like how we learn more about Sinclaire and Annabelle here. Annabelle largely has the role that Hana had in TRR, and there are some similarities - but she also has a lot more wiggle-room and seems to be bolder and a little more outgoing. She has grown up with the limitations placed on women at the time, but unlike Hana, hasn't faced as many restrictions in her upbringing.

• As I've mentioned before, I love Annabelle and I love that they're trying to do a better job of her. But I'm not entirely sure if cramming two separate scenes of hers in single chapters of an already expensive book is a wise choice, or if it will harm her development in the long run because people find it too expensive to spend on her. IMO the accomplishment scenes should be a little further spread out in the books.

• Now that the MC is going to be a future Countess, what is in store for her? In her rightful home Edgewater, she has a limited audience and not as much expectation to live up to...what will become of her now that she will be participating in the Season in London? Guess we'll find out today, or in the coming weeks xD

• Tagging: @boneandfur @liamraines @thespiritpanda @alanakusumastan @ernestsinclairs @mrsthomashunt @private-investigator-nazario @bcdollplace @queenodysseia @mcbangle

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