#in a crowd of thousands

[jejebean]

In a Crowd of Thousands

Gojo x F!Reader || A Bridgerton / Regency Era AU ♔

Inspired by this song from Anastasia

A displaced princess taking refuge in a foreign land, and a Duke with manners unbefitting his station. While one of you cannot afford to tempt scandal, the other relishes it. Your paths crossed on a fated Summer's day long ago. Forgotten in the whirlwind of time, yet haunted, by your smile, by his eyes.

Content Warning: Reader's traumatic past, anxiety, unhealthy coping mechanism, Gojo's rakish behaviour.

Your POV

In the heat of June, the city is buzzing with anticipation and excitement. It seems like almost everyone has gathered by the harbour, to get a glimpse of the rumored princess.

“No, not princess anymore, surely.” 

“A refugee, a foundling, fortunate enough to have relatives still in our peaceful country.”

“She’s lucky to be here. I heard her entire family was slaughtered.”

“She’ll hear you!”

“Does she even speak our language?”

“She must. If she’s going to live here now.”

You can hear the sharp comments here and there, barely audible amongst the cheer of the crowd. A welcoming parade they call it. It doesn’t feel so welcoming with everyone questioning your position or lack thereof. But you the know rules. You sit straight in your gilded carriage, eyes forward, trying your hardest to not let your emotions show.

Barely eight, you are the only survivor of your family. It all feels so surreal. Just months ago, you were gathering spring flowers in your vast garden. In the blink of an eye, you’ve been shipped to a foreign land, with foreign customs, and now in the care of a distant cousin you’ve never seen before. Here, you have to start anew.

Gojo’s POV

“What do you mean we’re not going? It’s all everyone’s been talking about!”

Stomping his feet in protest, Gojo Satoru demands an answer from his household staff, who has all but barricaded the young boy in the manor. “Young master, please. Your father has left us strict instructions to keep you focused on your studies today.”

“But there is going to be a parade! Ijichi, please!”

“Young Master. It is improper for a gentleman to gawk at the misfortune of a peer so publicly. You must remember your family’s position, and behave accordingly.”

The butler is no stranger to the stubborn nature of the boy. Handling his every whim, however, has proven to be an ever-evolving task.

“I simply wanted to see what the fuss is all about. You know they call her a princess without a home.”

“And this is precisely why you’re staying at home.” He sighed. ”With the war still going on in the continent, many more will come, young master. Should you learn to behave by then, you might be permitted to…observe the next one.”

The young boy scoffs.

“We shall see about that.”

…

Your POV

As the carriage pulls further and further into the city, you begin to question if there is an end to this ordeal. An endless stream of people pours out onto the streets, to get a good look at the little foreign noble who has lost everything. It is getting harder and harder to hold your head up and your face straight. And as exhaustion starts to take hold, you hear a small commotion in the crowd.

Fear and panic begin to grow in your chest, as the worst possibilities play out in your mind. Is it them? The people who have taken your family. Have they come to finish the job? You ball your hands into fists in your lap, clutching at the fabric of the borrowed gown, trembling.

There are guards stationed, separating the carriage and the crowds, but you could see a small figure weaving and dodging in between. The culprit stumbles onto the street, nearly colliding with the carriage and startling the hoses to a stop. It was all too sudden, and you feel your heart in your throat.

You can now see that it is merely a boy, not much older than you are. Dressed in rags, with half his face covered by a newsboy’s hat a little too big, and him struggling to keep it on.

The shock took you off guard, and for a second, it felt as though time was standing still.

As the boy looks up, your eyes are met with the most dazzling blue. Gleaming in the sun like beautiful jewels —a pair of aquamarine, wide and slightly bewildered. You begin to relax, not noticing that you have been holding your breath the entire time. Ever so slightly, you felt your stony features soften into a smile for this strange boy.

…

As the morning light peers through the curtains, you awoke from a distant dream that quickly faded. Ten long years has since passed, and it feels like a different lifetime.

It was finally the day of your presentation.

The day for you to finally repay the kindness of your newfound family.

You are determined to make them proud. Although the Kamo house is considered one of the most ancient and prominent of bloodlines, it has been plagued relentlessly by scandals. You have since learned that bringing you in as a ‘rescue’ was the late Earl’s way of rebuilding his societal image.

Still, the reason holds no significance. You are duty-bound to marry well and ‘fix’ the family’s standing.

You shake your head to clear your mind of sleep and the memory of your first day. You haven’t spared a single thought to it in a long time. Why now?

A new life, a new name, a new family.

A brand new start.

“It matters not. Today, I must be perfect.”

…

Little did you know that on the other side of town, the very same dream rings clear in the mind of a certain young man.

…

The parade traveled on,

With the sun in my eyes, you were gone.

But I knew even then,

In a crowd of thousands,

I’d find you again.

...

Thank you for reading!

A/N: Choso will play a big part in this, like a brother figure (think Anthony but a little less frustrating.) I currently don't have a beta/editor for my stories, and since English is not my first language please excuse the mistakes that might appear. I'll keep trying my best to minimize them and get better! ♡ See you in the next one!

[stormravenart]

"In a crowd of thousands" but it's Elsamaren

[blueeeebirrrrd]

𝓘𝓷 𝓪 𝓬𝓻𝓸𝔀𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓼，𝓘'𝓭 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷

[derekklenadaily]

✨ Couples Spotify Playlist ✨

[insp // spotify templates credits to @danesdehaan]

[izloveshorses]

do you ever think about how good this kiss was about to be

[delicatelovetaco]

In a crowd of thousands,I will find you again

Two adorable babies met in golden June and fell in love at first sight!

[remyfire]

Ship: Sidney Freedman/Sam Pak

Note: This is a birthday gift for my dear friend Rosie, because nothing says happy birthday better than middle-aged men in love 💞

When the balcony door opens behind Sidney, the music from the rambunctious jazz band swells, and he takes a deep breath through his nose as he fights not to look. He doesn't know if he could stand it if he worked himself up this far, then turned and found disappointment in the eyes of someone who's practically a stranger now. "You made it." Though it's been three years since Sidney last felt his touch, the melodic lilt of Sam Pak's voice feels like a caress across bare skin. Despite the nerves, Sidney can't hold back his smile. He even tips his head down like a schoolboy as though trying to hide his pleasure at being found. "I certainly did." When a shorter, broader body slips into the space next to him on the empty balcony, Sam's shirt brushes Sidney's bare arm beneath his rolled-up sleeves and sparks a circuit of lights that illuminate his veins. "And so did you."

1955, the Bay Area. Sidney Freedman takes a leap of faith. Sam Pak meets him there with open arms.

[rom-e-o]

In a Crowd of Thousands (Ebenezer/OC) ~ Part 1

It’s finally time for a masquerade-themed story.

Rating is PG-13. There is suggestive sexual content, adult language and alcohol/tobacco usage.

Let’s begin!

<><><><>

Esteemed syndicates and staff,

You are cordially invited to attend a masquerade ball hosted by Lloyd’s of London to celebrate the arrival of the summer equinox.

The theme for the evening is: Meierblis

Join us for this May-Blaze ceremony to partake in an evening of dancing, and rejoice as we light fires to frighten away the last of the winter chill and welcome the warmth of spring.

Please don costumes in accordance with the theme of the evening. In addition, all individuals not currently bonded by the right of Holy Matrimony are required to arrive alone, to maintain the notion of anonymity. 

Please RSVP for the following:

Almack's King Street, St James's, London

April 30, 6-11p

The ballroom was decorated and dressed to the nines, the wide chamber lit with vanilla candles and the massive marble pillars flecked with gold and strung with more ribbons than a wealthy woman’s garter belt. The masquerade décor that Lloyd’s of London had commissioned to have the ballroom decorated with was as fantastical as it was all-encompassing. It matched the existing display of romantic oil paintings, Rococo-inspired furniture and cherubic paintings that spanned the domed ceiling of the space’s impressive rotunda so well, that the inexperienced eye might not even suspect the space was decorated for an event.

The only thing more adorned than the grand hall were the guests that began to file in, the pace as steady as a stream of salmon moving upriver. A parade of swishing shirts, feathered frocks and sequin-encrusted capes snaked its way into up the grand entry staircase and through a towering atrium. Just beyond a pair of massive doors with crystal doorknobs was the grand ballroom, which was steadily filling with chattering dancers and frantic attendees running around with trays of champagne and mints.

Among the crowds of individuals dressed in color combinations that would make even the most stunning cosmic galaxies turn and gawk, Ebenezer Scrooge stood as tall and rigid as an obelisk.

The older gentleman was donned in a simple uniform of black velvet, a red sash across his chest and gold accents. His mask was fashioned of simply black velvet, the color only highlighting the steely blue hue of his eyes. In a sea of color, he was tall, dark and handsome. With the added contrast of his silver hair against his dark costume, many sets of curious eyes fell upon him as throngs of people passed.

Ebenezer checked his pocket watch for the time. A quarter ‘til seven, its face read.

He sighed as slipped the instrument back into his pocket. The evening had barely begun, and he already felt antsy. He wondered briefly if he could sneak out but decided against it.

After all, he had been invited to the event and was representing his company. It would be bad manners to leave to leave unannounced, not to mention so early.

Besides, he couldn’t just leave Bob and his clerk slash fiancée, Constance, to fend for themselves.

When he’d first opened the wax-sealed invitation that had summoned him to the event, he had been optimistic if not a bit intimidated by the prospect of attending a ball. By principle alone, Ebenezer saw himself as a tad too introverted for grand events or dances. Then, there was the matter of the excess of the whole display.

Before and after his visit from the Three Spirits, he never found appeal in visual displays of wealth. Despite his miserly tendencies from years ago, he’d hoarded the funds instead of spending any money on opulence. Even now, most of the money he made went to charities and various other efforts to better the lives of individuals around London.

As such, such a candid display of wealth for a party was…concerning. It made him itch.

In fact, this entire festivity of indulgence was one that he thought the Ghost of Christmas Present would fit right into, he thought with a light chuckle. Wherever that jolly fellow was, he was missing a hell of a perfect party. He was fine with missing out on the company of his winged fairy friends, however.

Knowing that he couldn’t leave, he decided to continue to keep his eyes peeled for his associates.

Bob and Ethel, officially married, had been allowed to come together. However, much to his annoyance, the invitation had insisted that all women (even engaged ones – he’d checked) were to arrive alone, per party rules. He’d disliked the idea of leaving in a different carriage than her, but she had insisted over and over that she would be fine.

“I was a socialite, remember?” she told him with a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll find you. I promise.”

Now, in a crowd of thousands, it was like searching for a needle in a haystack. Or a dandelion, more accurately.

Before he could wallow for too long, his gaze snagged on a couple walking with unusual exuberance. Or, to be more accurate, the woman was bounding forward, absorbing the sights with frantic swings of the head. The gentleman she led followed as swiftly as he could on his thin legs. It was a tall fellow, and his red hair stood out vibrantly against the green suit jacket he’d donned. Even when being pulled along, his face bore a nervous yet incredibly familiar smile. It reminded him of…

“Bob? I say, Bob Cratchit, is that you?”

To his relief, two mismatched eyes quickly flicked to his. Unless there were two redheaded lads with heterochromia and cowlicks in London, it seemed he’d found his man.

“Ebenezer?” he asked, then sank into a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank goodness! Ethel, over here, darling!”

After muttering something to the woman on his arm, Bob Cratchit scurried over to the alcove that Ebenezer had tucked himself into.

“It’s good to see a friendly face,” Ebenezer said, reaching out to shake the man’s hand. “Well, half of one, anyway.”

“Haha, funny, sir,” Bob rushed to say, itching the back of his neck self-consciously. The gesture caused the mask upon his face to budge slightly. “T-This is quite a spectacle, is it not? I feel invisible and as if I’m under a stage light all at the same time!”

Right, Scrooge realized. This was likely the first time his former clerk had attended a gathering like this.

“Ethel, dear, you look radiant.”

“Thank you, Ebenezer! As do you. Very dashing!”

“You flatter me,” he supplied kindly, tucking his hands behind his back. “I’m simply relieved to hear my uneasiness isn’t showing. This is all very…ornate, isn’t it?”

Ethel, dressed in a frock of blue velvet that was embroidered with yellow and white daisies, beamed behind her mask. “I think it’s exciting!”

“Y-Yes, that’s a good word for it, dearest,” Bob said, smiling nervously and chuckling. However, Scrooge could tell from the quick side-glance that the poor redhead felt as awkward as he did.

“I say, where is Constance?” Ethel asked.

“I haven’t spotted her yet,” Scrooge said with a sigh, turning his head back to the crowd. He squinted, suddenly wishing he’d brought his glasses. All these faces were starting to look the same.

“Poor lady, all alone in this madness,” Ethel teased.

“It wasn’t my choice, believe me,” Scrooge huffed, “I’d much have her right here.”

“Why in the world did ladies need to arrive separately, anyway?” she asked. “That is, all the single ones?”

“Haven’t a clue,” Ebenezer offered, sighing again as he glanced around the atrium. His head flicked back and forth like a busy pigeon’s in a park square. “And she’s not single. She’s engaged. To me. However, apparently, that doesn’t count.”

“Which you obviously aren’t bitter about.”

“Obviously.”

“Ah, so this party is following the ‘single until married’ idea, huh?” Bob mused aloud. “A unique concept.”

“A stupid concept,” he grumbled.

“Oh, perhaps they have a little game in mind!” Ethel posed, which earned a worried glance from the older man. “Something to make the evening more interesting. A night to remember, if you will.”

The notion made Ebenezer’s eyes go wide behind his mask. “You don’t think—"

The thought of another man taking his fiancée into his arms was…far from pleasant. Regular waltzing was one thing, but if their plan was to truly pair up ‘single’ women for more intimate dances, that was something that made his blood start to heat up. In fact, he felt a vein pulse in his forehead at the thoughts of another man’s hands on her hips, her breasts pressed against another man’s chest, another pair of lips inches away from her own..

Seeing his wife was on the cusp of alarming the man, Bob swooped in quickly to put a pause on any additional conspiracies the two could concoct.

“Whatever the reason,” Bob started, seeking to calm his wife and his business partner simultaneously, “I’m sure she’s fine. After all, she hosted huge parties in New York for twenty years!”

“That’s true,” he admitted, his pallor returning to normal after a brief flush of anger.

“She was a socialite, host, ambassador, model…if anything, an event like this is her forte, sir!”

A light chuckle left Ebenezer’s lips.

“I know all that,” he said with a light smile. “No, I’m not worried about her fending for herself, believe me. Like you said, while this is a battlefield for me, this must be a candy store for her.”

“Oh?”

“No, I…simply miss her company,” Ebenezer admitted, casting his partner a sideways glance. “That’s all.”

<><><><> 

Across the gilded atrium, in another guarded alcove that provided little respite from crowds, a portly fellow in feathers made chatter with a strawberry-blonde woman.

“Well, you certainly ar’ the loveliest flower I’ve e’er seen, my lady!” his voice drawled, his accent distinctly English, but his cadence and pronunciation not matching a London dialect. It seemed likely he’d been invited to the occasion from out of town, and had traveled in to rub elbows and mingle.

“Normally I don’t fancy flowers, especially them frilly ones, but for one as lovely as yo’self, I am willin’ to make an exception.”

His eyes licked up and down her form, taking in her shapely figure and dress. The cream-colored gown was embroidered with cascading blue flowers and petals. Her mask, simple cream satin, concealed the annoyed furrow of her brow.

“Oh, you’re much too kind, sir,” Constance DoGoode said with a smile that betrayed her true discomfort at the situation. “Truly, you are a flatterer! I wish I could talk longer, but I must be on my way. Now, if you’ll excuse—.”

Seeing an opening under one of his arms, she attempted to dive under it a make a quick escape. However, he swayed his body like a pendulum to cut her off.

“Aw, runnin’ off so soon?” he asked, the grin below his beaked mask devilish and knowing.

“I’m afraid so,” Constance said, attempting to laugh off his behavior. “You see, I’m meeting my associates here. I’m sure they’re looking for me.”

“Oh, forget them!” the stranger drawled as he reached out to cup her bare shoulder. She jerked lightly at the contact, but with the atrium wall behind her, the woman didn’t have additional space to seek solace in. “It’s a party, not a business meeting! Light’n up, girl!”

Constance lifted her hands and sat them upon her hips. He wasn’t going to relent as easily as others did, she realized.

“I’m meeting my fiancé as well,” she added, punctuating the sentence with a grin. “I’m engaged.”

“Ah, not hitched yet, then? Sounds like you’re still free range, lass.”

“I’m happily engaged,” she added, adding extra emphasis in hopes of chipping through his thick skull.

“All the same, really,” he said, “How about it? One last hurrah before you’re stuck beddin’ the same bloke fer the rest o’ your days?”

With a sigh and shake of the head, she peered into the middle-distance for a moment, as if trying to manifest something. Then, with the swiftness of a changing zephyr, her eyes lit up in realization. After then, she straightened her posture and smiled back at him.

“Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose I could share a few moments,” Constance said, making a show of lowering her eyes to the ground and sheepishly moving her hands behind her back. “After all, I’m here for work, and I’m sure my associates wouldn’t mind if I took some time to enhance, um … business relations.”

Her coquettish demeanor and response pleased him, and his hand dropped from her shoulder to find the notch of her svelte waist. Then, he inched lower and squeezed her bum. “Very good. I’m glad you see things my way.”

Fighting the urge to cringe, Constance beamed innocently. “Oh yes. In fact, a man like you seems like just the variety of company I wanted for this evening.”

“Is that right?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, “I can tell just by chatting with you that you are a man with business sense! Well, how familiar are you with the London stock markets right now?”

For the first time, his confidence swayed. “Um, I’m not…”

“What am I saying, of course you’re versed!” she said, slapping his chest playfully. “Apologies. Now, let me break it down for you. Lately, area competition has been increased for individuals looking for banking resources.”

“Erm…banking?”

“Yes, and offices are being tempted to bend underwriting standards to make more aggressive, higher loan-to-value loans. Now, as we all know, moneylenders typically charge higher interest rates than banks. So, what’s your perspective on this issue?”

“M-Mine?”

“Yes, yours, you goose!” she said, enjoying how perplexed he looked. “You said you wanted to talk business, yes?”

Blinking like a freshwater fish on a line, the man lifted an arm to scratch the back of his neck self-consciously. “Ugh, I don’t really …”

Constance seized her opportunity and dashed under his arm, escaping the narrow area he had trapped her in. With a swish of the skirts, she was off, her heels clicking against the polished tiles as she weaved between other guests.

“Sorry!” she yelled back, “I’d recommend Lloyds Illustrated Paper for some light reading!”

“Hey!” he yelled over the heads of others, who all turned to look at him inquisitively.

Meanwhile, Constance scurried from the atrium, hail and gown flowing behind her.

Once she was a safe distance away, the woman flattened herself against the wall and peeked around one of the massive marble pillars that lined the space. After a quick sweep, she let out a sigh.

“Whew! That was close.”

Whether it was New York or London, it seemed perverted partygoers were an unfortunate commonality. She could only hope the rest of the evening would be more pleasant.

Of course, once she found Ebenezer, that was almost guaranteed.

She paused for a moment to glance down at the engagement ring on her finger. A solitaire-cut diamond on a simple gold back glittered back at her. It was stately and elegant; absolutely perfect and beautiful.

A smile lit up her face.

“I can’t wait to see you,” she mumbled to herself, bringing her hand to her chest and squeezing it tightly over her heart. “Ebenezer.”

Just the thought of meeting her handsome fiancé on the masquerade dance floor filled her with renewed energy.

Picking up her skirts again, she slowly descended the stairs to the south side of the ballroom, moving in sync with throngs of other costumed dancers toward the dance floor.

<><><> 

On the north side of the ballroom, Ebenezer, Bob and Ethel eventually made their way into the ballroom, squeezing past a concerning number of partygoers who had already consumed too many glasses of champagne and were falling over themselves by the entryway.

“The sun hasn’t even set!” Bob remarked in astonishment, one arm wrapped protectively around Ethel as they walked. “Guests are already sloshed!”

“Heavens, how interesting,” Ethel remarked with a light laugh. “Well, if they plan to spend the entire evening here, I fear they won’t make it. Why, I think they’ll be passed out within the next hour.”

“Or half hour,” Ebenezer corrected as a drunken man in a gesture costume, complete with a jingle-bell trimmed collar, swerved into him.

With a gasp of surprise, he grabbed the man by the shoulders and straightened him as best her could. “Ah, goodness! Mind how you go, sir. I say, are you—?”

Giggling, the man staggered away before Scrooge could even finish his concerned inquiry. Mere moments later, he slipped into the arms of a woman in a peacock-inspired gown, Unlike Ebenezer, she was much less forgiving of the man practically falling atop her, and smacked him hard enough across the face to make him spin into the marble floor.

The trio winced in unison at the sound of impact. After a moment of silence, the other dancers and guests stepped over his body, laying limp and supine on the floor. Upon closer examination, his chest was moving up and down. Another beat later, the sound of snoring was barely audible above the rumble of party guests and small talk.

Ethel was the first to break the silence with a concerned clearing of the throat. “S-Should we maybe, um…”

The inquiry was cut short by a cacophony of trumpets that played a welcoming melody that boomed through the corridor. The sound caused all the guests to jump in unison before their masked faces split into wide grins and erupted into thunderous applause.

The sound was a summons from the ball’s hosts for everyone to gather around a mid-tier balcony that overlooked the ballroom, which occupied the lowest floor of the building.

Opting to follow the crowd, the trio slotted themselves in an open spot near the edge of a balcony, seeking solace between two large pillars that provided some relief from the crowds filling the space.

The actual dance floor glittered with golden marble tiles, and the edges were lined with tables of champagne and amuse-bouche type appetizers. With another blow of the trumpets, a small parade of gentlemen in ornate suits and matched masks strolled from a large arched doorway leading to a deeper part of the ballroom.

Even from afar, Ebenezer could recognize the men.

“I know them,” he said with a nudge and point. “That’s Mr. Drosselmeyer on the left, one of the longest underwriters with Lloyds. He’s a good man, he taught me the ropes alongside Jacob. The man in the middle is Howard Haversham II, a shipowner and major investor. He might be the richest man in all of England.”

“T-Truly?”

“Yes, but he’s exceptionally timid. That is, he keeps his wealth quiet. I’m quite surprised he’s appearing publicly.”

“Ah,” Bob said, obviously taking mental note of the identities his business partner pointed out. “I see. Oh, and what of the gentleman on the right?”

“I’m…huh. Hm.”

“What’s wrong? Are you not sure?”

Scrooge squinted, trying to make out the less distinct features of the last gentleman. The other two, he knew so well that he could identify them from a mile away. However, this last gentleman was one that he recognized from…somewhere. That much he could be certain of. He was of broader frame with silver-streaked chestnut-colored hair, and a grin that looked so natural on his visage that an artist could have sculpted it specifically for his frame.

“He looks so familiar,” Scrooge mumbled to himself. “Where in the world do I know his face from?”

“Have you spoken to him before?” Bob posed. “Maybe thinking about where you met him will help you remember.”

It was a good suggestion. As his mind retraced its steps to try and remember all the social events he’s attended and all the clients he’d met with, he found his memories drifting further and further back.

Then, the man extended a hand to a woman who emerged from the crowd. Her hair was crafted into an immaculate updo, her curls light and perfect. As she flashed a lovely, ruby-red smile up at the man, realization rushed him with the ferocity of an early-morning tide.

He hadn’t met the man, but he’d seen him. He’d seen him in a vision.

A vision from the future.

“Isabel’s husband.”

“Isabel?” Bob repeated, partially surprised by the informal use of another woman’s first name. “W-Who is that, sir?”

His mouth went slightly dry as he struggled to speak.

“She was, um…”

The trumpets blared again, Mr. Drosselmeyer stepped forward and cleared his throat.

“Esteemed guests, welcome to Lloyds of London’s first-ever masquerade gala!”

The room erupted in applause, which was silenced by a simple raise of the hand. Drosselmeyer wasn’t a particularly physically imposing man, but something about his presence unanimously demanded respect.  

“For this monumental occasion, we have invited investors and notable business owners from across the country, and beyond,” he added. “Tonight, we are honored to have guests from India, China, the United States, Japan, Algeria, Scotland and Puerto Rico. The diversity in this room represents a promising, blooming economy that is varied and prosperous.

“We all hail from different lands with different languages. However, for tonight, we are united in anticipation for the spring season, and banishing the icy cold that has stilled our railroads, iced our streets and collapsed our buildings. Tonight, let us eat, drink and be merry and light bonfires to celebrate the blessing of the spring equinox!”

Another round of applause came as Drosselmeyer stepped back and Haversham stepped forward.

“Ladies and gentleman, I’m honored and grateful to be before you this evening,” the man said, his bow impressively deep for a man of his somewhat advanced age. “I began my business as a meager tradesmen, and now, I am surrounded by some of the most brilliant minds in the world.”

“Oh, his is mild-mannered!” Ethel whispered to Bob.

“While I am beyond honored to be invited to this tremendous occasion, I will admit that I also harbor a bias,” he revealed, hand moving to his heart. Then, his body pivoted to face the man on the right…the same one who Isabel had gone to. “My son, Captain Barnaby Haversham, has returned from a one-year mission to chart a new ship route through the treacherous and ice-filled Canadian waters. The maps produced as a result of this voyage will not only advance and expedite trading opportunities for our fine London entrepreneurs, but for those across the world!”

The man dipped his head kindly at his father’s sweet words.

Haversham continued, “He is joined here this evening by his son, William; daughters Emilia and Olivia; and his wife, Isabel Wright, nee Fezziwig, of Cornhill!”

She smiled and dropped into a curtesy, her one free hand lifting the hem of her skirt. The other three children swayed from the crowd. Two young women, both brunettes like their father, bowed with the same amazing grace of their mother. The son, a man who looked just shy of thirty, flashed a handsome grin before bowing.

A distinct sound of swooning came from the audience.

“Well, I guess if you’re the wealthiest man in London, you can bring unlimited guests,” Ethel commented, completely oblivious to Bob and Ebenezer’s ongoing conversation. “It helps when your son is an absolute looker! My oh my!”

“E-Ethel!”

“What? You have eyes. You know I’m right!”

“T-That’s not…”

A nearby guests shushed the couple as Haversham continued his speech.

“Tonight, as we celebrate our prosperous success as a nation, I implore you to spare a thought for men like my son, who make jobs like ours possible through hard work, perseverance, and bravery in the face of the unknown!”

Haversham led the crowd in another round of fabulous applause, which many raised their champagne flutes in recognition of.

Obviously flustered, Barnaby looked to his wife with a flushed grin. He seemed to mouth the words, ‘This is too much...’ to her.

With the same poise and grace she’d displayed decades before, Isabel nodded and gripped his arm reassuringly. Then, she took a ceremonial step back and joined in the applause.

With that, the trumpeters all began to filter down into the ballroom through a set of twin staircases at both ends of the ballroom. There, some drifted onto a small orchestral platform to commence playing a spirited symphony of notes that would be right at home at the start of a romantic opera.

At that same moment, William was immediately surrounded by a gaggle of young woman, each one masked but unchaperoned.

Ethel made a small sound of realization. “Ohhh. I see.”

“What?” Bob inquired.

“Well, I just realized,” she said, pointing to the crowd of woman accumulating around the man. “I…think I know why it was requested that all unmarried women come without a chaperone, dearie. Look over there.”

Bob followed his wife’s finger until his eyes also landed on the sight below them. Sure enough, rather than looking as bashful as his father had during his introduction, William was all smiles and wasted no time in kissing the hands of all the women who giggled over him.

“Oh,” Bob said, shoulders sagging in disappointment. “I think you may be right.”

Yet, as Bob and Ethel continued to watch, they saw his attention suddenly shift from the gaggle of ladies around him to something, or someone, on the other side of the room.

Following his line of sight, it only took a few seconds for them to spy exactly who had caught the man’s attention.

William’s eyes had fallen on a distinct woman in a cream and blue dress. Her rose gold hair fluttered unbound down her back, and her bare freckled shoulders made her stand out even further.

“Sir, look,” Bob said, elbowing his partner and pointing.

Scrooge, who’d been staring at Isabel since her entrance, snapped out of his daydream and followed Bob’s command. The instant he did, relief flooded his visage, and he instantly looked ten years longer.

“Constance!” Ebenezer called through the crowds.

Upon hearing her name called, the woman looked upwards. When their eyes met, her blue eyes fit up like twin supernovas.

“Ebenezer, there you are!”

Quickly, she picked up her skirt and dashed toward him eagerly, her smile wide and radiant.

All the while, William’s eyes lingered on her every move.

Even when Ebenezer wrapped his arms about her and placed a kiss upon her lips, his gaze did not waver.

In fact, it only seemed to make his eyes spark with further intrigue…as did his mother’s.

[aussie-tea]

not to make y'all feel lonely but she™ had amnesia but she could remember him™ when they were both strangers and children in a crowd of thousands.

[broadway-and-books-love]

Ignore me, just Having Feelings™️ because of “In a Crowd of Thousands” again

[jejebean]

In a Crowd of Thousands

Gojo x F!Reader || A Bridgerton / Regency Era AU ♔

Inspired by this song from Anastasia

A displaced princess taking refuge in a foreign land, and a Duke with manners unbefitting his station. While one of you cannot afford to tempt scandal, the other relishes it. Your paths crossed on a fated Summer's day long ago. Forgotten in the whirlwind of time, yet haunted, by your smile, by his eyes.

Content Warning: Reader's traumatic past, anxiety, unhealthy coping mechanism, Gojo's rakish behaviour.

Prologue | Chapter 01

══════════════════

Your POV

Focus on your breathing.

In, out.

‘What’s the worst that could happen? The Queen’s court being stormed and everyone thrown out or slaughtered? What are the chances of it happening twice?’

The corner of your lips lifts ever so slightly at the morbid thought.

You admit that there must be a healthier way to deal with your anxiety. Whatever adversity you might face from now on would pale in comparison. You might argue that it has made you stronger, but in truth, you feel so paper-thin at times.

Adorned with fineries, your maid keeps saying that you are a sight to behold. However, you feel anything but. The weight of all the jewels, the gown, and even the feathers on your hair, are all crushing down on you.

Breathe.

You know the rules by heart. Remember, you were a princess once, albeit in a foreign court.

You glance at the looking glass, and a young lady looks back at you. A perfect little debutante. An epitome of elegance, in her intricately embroidered white silk gown and carefully braided hair. Ready to step into the light, into society.

“Are you ready, my lady?”

No. I’m not.

“Yes, I am. Thank you, Nobara.”

One step at a time, one foot in front of the other, you walk down the stairs into the grand hallway of the Kamo’s manor house. It is all new to you, as you’ve been hidden away in the country with your numerous tutors and governesses. You can see the two figures waiting for you. The Earl, and the Dowager Countess Kamo; a frail and quiet old lady with her white hair styled neatly in court fashion. She is going to present you to Her Majesty the Queen today. The Dowager keeps to herself most of the time and practically disappeared from society when her son, the late Earl passed just two years ago.

“You look exquisite, Lady Kamo.”

The man standing next to the Dowager, extended his hand to help you down the last couple of steps. Your dear cousin, the new Earl, Kamo Choso.

“Thank you, my lord.” You smile, as you accept his steady hand.

He has been your constant companion and confidante, almost like an elder brother.

It is a warm welcome to have him by your side as you step into the marriage mart. With his long black hair slicked back neatly, you can clearly see the dark circle adorning his eyes. He has worked tirelessly to fix the estate left in shambles by the late Earl. You wish for him to find someone that could help lift his spirits. Alas, he would laugh and say, ‘I have more important things to do. Let us focus on you first little duck.’ In his eyes, you’re still that trembling little girl.

“Are you ready?‘ His voice, low, as to not agitate your already frayed nerves. The only one genuinely concerned for your well-being. He knows you too well for you to hide your nature.

“Not really, but the show must go on.” 

“Try to relax, little duck.” He teases.

“You don’t suppose I’ve transformed into a swan today?” You gesture at the white plumage on your head.

“You’ll always be little duck.” He chucked. “Also, that’s Ostrich feather, dear cousin.”

You rolled your eyes. Very unbecoming for a lady, but with Choso, it matters not; you’re as he says, just a little duck.

…

The morning has been a flurry of white silk satin, and feathers scrambling in the debutantes waiting room. Young ladies desperate for perfection, and their mamas fussing over every little detail. You are grateful that the Dowager Countess who’s presenting you is lost in her own thoughts. It allows you a moment of respite in the chaos of the day. You blink back the fog of trance, as the royal footman calls out your name.

“It’s our turn, dear.” The Dowager turns to you and offers a kind smile. You can detect a tinge of sympathy in her voice.

“So it seems. Thank you, Lady Kamo.” You smile back, grateful.

Waiting by the great white door, there is a sinking feeling in your chest. You’ve only heard rumours of the Queen. How Her Majesty’s opinion is all that matters in this society.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Time slows to a halt as the door opens and you hear the court presenter’s voice booms like crack of thunder down your spine. You steel your gaze, as you remember your lessons. Your senses drone out the whispers of the Queen’s court.

One step at a time.

Slowly, walk with pride.

Curtsy with all the grace you can muster.

You cast your eyes on the carpeted floor as you lower yourself gracefully.

“Rise, my dear.”

And there she is. Her Majesty the Queen, right in front of you.

With her discerning hawk-like eyes, she studies your face, your figure, and your mannerisms.

“I remember your mother. You look just like her.” She paused. ”I’d say, well done.”

You are unable to breathe for a second, as the air in the room has stilled. You couldn’t believe that you’ve somehow managed to gain the queen’s favour. Has she somehow mistaken the mask you put on over your anxious disposition for serenity and grace? You don’t know what to feel.

On one hand, it will help garner intrigue from suitors. On the other, you are now the common enemy of the young ladies vying for the eligible bachelors.

…

Ijichi’s POV

In the morning of the presentation, across town, a butler is trying fruitlessly, to remind a certain Duke of his responsibility.

“Your Grace, we cannot break from tradition.”

“It is a stupid tradition, and I can do what I want.”

Slender fingers deftly reach for an arrow, playfully aiming at the poor butler. 

The young man pulls against the taut string of the bow and at the last second, flicks his aim away and unleashes the arrow. The butler flinches as it hits the tree next to him, dead centre.

“You are hosting the first ball of the season. You are obligated to attend!”

“No, my mother is hosting the first ball of the season. I, can do what I want, Ijichi.”

“Your Grace, you promised the Dowager Duchess to open the ball. It is a mark of a gentleman to honour his words.”

The Duke curses under his breath.

“Fine. I’ll dance at the ball.” He paused. “But I won’t open it. Give that job to someone else.”

Satoru grabs another arrow and quickly aims it at the same tree. Despite having grown up amongst the highest rank of nobility, he possesses none of the genteel mannerisms expected of the young Duke. The butler is only grateful, that at least the master will somewhat behaves appropriately when he has to make a public appearance.

Ijichi hoped that if by some miracle, a young lady might catch the Duke’s attention. And Gojo Satoru might even begin to start acting in a way that befits his station.

But as he watches the Duke unleash arrow after arrow on the unsuspecting tree, he ponders his retirement from service.

Your POV

It is finally time for the first ball of the season. Your nerves have recovered a little bit since the presentation. The rattling of the carriage against the cobblestone street is strangely soothing. As you look out into the night, the twinking of the city light seems most enchanting. You only wish for Choso to escort you to your first debutante ball. However, his work has kept him chained to his study and likely so for the next few days.

Your carriage pulls towards Gojo Manor, one of the grandest in town. The manor is a sight to behold. With ivy-covered walls, illuminated in the dark, took your breath away. You can see beautiful young ladies chatting away excitedly, entering the manor with their chaperones. You can’t help but feel a little giddy. The future is after all, full of possibilities.

Carefully, you stepped out of your carriage, helped by the manor’s footman. A soft gasp could be heard as you stepped into the light of the manor. You are wearing a shimmering light taupe gown, embroidered tastefully with delicate floral designs. But the eyes of the ton are locked onto your neck; adorned with diamonds and blood-red rubies, the trademark of the house of Kamo.

‘Fit for royalty’ Choso teased, as he escorted you to the carriage with an apologetic smile. ‘All eyes will be on you, little duck. I guarantee it.’

‘I wish you could be there with me. It would feel terribly lonely with just Lady Kamo.’

‘You won’t feel so lonely when you have all the bachelors in the ton filling up your dance card.’

‘I’ll try and do you proud, Cho.’

‘You already have.’

…

You know Choso means well, but the pin-prick of a thousand eyes keeps you on your toes. It might have been too much. You steady your breath, with head held high, just as you’ve been trained for your entire life. The very picture of grace and elegance, as you walk into the majestic ballroom. Gentlemen begin to step forward as the Dowager Countess, your chaperone, makes the introduction.

You smile graciously as one name after another makes it onto your dance card. Praying, that your heart will not betray you, as it pounds deafeningly loud underneath. The whispers have started again, as the ever so envious mamas of the ton poured venoms into the ears of the impressionable daughters. Who can blame them, you think to yourself, as a woman’s place in this society is dictated by the turn of the seasons.

The night seems never-ending as you spin from the arms of one gentleman to another. Choso was wrong in one regard. The many gentlemen who vy for your attention do nothing to dissuade the feeling of emptiness in your chest.

“Ah, it is good to see you back in society, dear Lady Kamo.”

“Splendid evening, Your Grace. You have certainly outdone yourself.”

Ah. This must be the Duchess. She cut the most breathtaking figure in the room. Her hair was decorated with sapphires and white roses, the symbol of her house. You hurried over towards your chaperone, hoping to pay your respect to the hostess.

“Have you met my ward, the young Lady Kamo.” The Dowager gestured towards you as you curtsy. “And this, my dear, is our most illustrious hostess of the ton.”

“You flatter me, Lady Kamo.” The Duchess regards you with a warm smile. ”I see you have taken the Kamo name for yourself.”

“Your Grace, I am most grateful to be allowed the honour of your invitation to this marvelous ball.” You curtsy, as perfectly as you can.

“Nonsense, my dear. Do enjoy yourself.” The Duchess seems amused by how formal you are behaving. Quiet the opposite of her unruly son, she thought to herself.

“Tell me, Your Grace, is the Duke present at tonight’s ball?”

A slight twitch on the corner of the Duchess’s lips would have been missed if you were not so vigilant. Looks like the young Duke is a sore spot for her.

“Ah yes, the Duke is attending. Though presently, I cannot tell you of his whereabouts.”

The two ladies, you have learned, were old friends. As they catch up on the latest gossip, you shift awkwardly, wishing you could sink into the walls, away from it all.

“Oh, don’t mind us, my dear, do go and enjoy yourself.”

You take the dismissal as an opportunity to slip away. Just for a moment, you want to get away from the ever-judging gaze of the ton. You look around and your eyes are set upon a small bench in the garden, against what seems like a hedge maze and topiary display. It is clearly visible from the ballroom’s balcony, and not too far out. Surely, it is not too improper.

A moment of respite is all you need. Just a moment, and not a second more.

You wander out into the night with haste. As the sweet scent of the garden bloom fills your lungs, your spirit lifts. You can see one of the manor’s footmen is keeping a watchful eye on you as you sit down on the cool marble bench by your lonesome. Thankful for the precaution, you feel more at ease that the Duchess seems to genuinely care about the participants of her ball. You close your eyes letting your senses immerse in your surroundings. The cold marble seat, the sweet scent of roses, the rustling of the hedge wall tickling your back, and the gasps and moans of-

Your eyes shoot open. Surely, You must be mistaken? Try as you might to deny it, the voices are getting louder by the second. Your heart starts to pound in your chest. You contemplate your next course of action. You should rush back in right now, else you might be engulfed in the most shocking scandal of the century.

Who on earth-

No, that’s not important right now. You have to go back in.

You should. You must!

You will yourself to move, but it seems your knees have other plan. In a moment of haste, your world comes crashing down. The footman keeping watch on you makes his way over to assist you. A sudden thought flashes in your mind. If he comes closer, surely he’ll also notice the voices behind the hedge.

“I’m fine. Truly!” You call out. “Oh, how silly of me. Seems the hem of dress was caught on my heels.”

The footman stops on his track, and gives you a nod, as you try to wave him away.

‘Why exactly?’

You sit back on the garden bench as you try to compose yourself.

Why did you try to stop him? Why are you trying to cover for the people you know nothing about?

As you try to calm your heart, you notice that there is silence.

‘Good. Seems like they heard me and ran off. Now I can have my peace.’

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

You freezes.

The silky voice coming from behind you has chained you in place.

“You know, I’d expect this behaviour from a kitchen wench, but not a highborn lady such as yourself.”

‘Can he see me? It can’t be. No, there is still a hedge wall separating the two of you.’

You gather what courage you have left and answer.

“How would you know that I’m a Lady? Perhaps you are mistaken, sir.”

“‘Your Grace’, I believe, is the appropriate title.”

Ah, it all makes sense now.

”And I know the Duchess’s ball is tonight. No servants would be allowed to wander the ground needlessly.”

“And what perchance is this behaviour you speak of, Your Grace?”

“I won’t insult your intelligence. But you know full well that eavesdropping on someone else’s…activities, so to speak is beneath you.”

“You would do well not to assume-”

“I do suppose I have to thank you for your discretion, at the very least.”

“Ah yes, but you mean to insult me first with your accusations.”

You keep your eyes forward in a steady gaze, as the man seems tongue tied. You recall the Duchess’s behaviour from earlier when old Lady Kamo mentioned her son. The footmen being overly vigilant on the ball’s attendants. It is all because of this man. The Duke. Even from his voice, you can tell that he is a very proud man. Acting as he pleases, and brandishing his title and superiority.

“I believe the Duchess is looking for you, Your Grace. Now I must take my leave before I catch a chill —or worse.”

“What is your name?” He sounds a tad calmer this time, devoid of the smugness from earlier.

“I do not think it wise for me to reveal myself.” You stand up carefully this time. ”Let us forget this exchange, and I’ll spare you your blushes, Your Grace.”

“I do not believe it is fair since now know who I am. Tell me your name.”

“I apologize Your Grace, but you might recall that it was you who chose to reveal who you are without me needing to ask. Besides, I can’t just introduce myself to a Duke without someone to facilitate an introduction. You see, it is not proper.” You added the last bit just to get a rise out of him.

“Hah! You know full well that nothing about this is proper, you insolent girl.”

“I bid you Adieu, Your Grace.”

“Hold on-”

Feeling like you’ve made an enemy of the man, you quickly walk towards the safety of the ballroom. You hope that you’ll be allowed to slip away home early. You might be able to make up a cold, and that should allow you to dodge a couple more balls until Choso is able to escort you.

…

After hurrying to the powder room to pick off the bits of grass from your gown, you are now back in the lavish ballroom with your chaperone. The Dowager seems to be enjoying herself being back in society after a long mourning period. You feel slightly guilty for trying to convince her to cut the evening short.

“What’s wrong my dear, you seem a bit flushed.”

“Lady Kamo, I-”

“There you are! Lady Kamo, may I introduce to you, my son, the Duke, Gojo Satoru.”

Your head whips around towards the Duchess so fast, you are almost sure you snapped something in your neck.

And there he is, the Duke, finally in front of you. A beautiful man with silvery hair, and blue eyes so dazzling they —Those eyes. You draw a sharp breath upon seeing the Duke, and his mother must have heard it.

“Are you alright, my dear?”

“Yes. I’m perfectly fine, Your Grace.” You reply, with a timid voice, cautious. You don’t want the Duke to realise who you are.

You sneak a glance at the man, before fixing your gaze on his midnight blue lapel. Thankfully, the Duke seems disinterested. For now, at least.

“Pardon us, Your Graces, it seems that the young lady caught a chill in the garden.”

Oh.

Before you manage to utter a single word, the Duke steps forward towards you like a bolt of lightning with a mischievous glint in his eyes and takes your hand in his.

“Would you do me the honor of a dance my lady?”

He whisks you away to the dancefloor, without awaiting your response to the surprise of everyone around you.

“So, Lady Kamo is it?” He smiles at you, as he holds you close to him with a steady hand on your back, as if to prevent you from fleeing again.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“I’m glad that we finally get the chance to meet. Properly.”

“I suppose there is no avoiding it now.” You sigh.

“You are a strange one. Young ladies usually turn to putty in my hands.”

“Maybe I would, Your Grace, had I not discovered your recent activities.”

“Careful girl. I enjoy our banter in the garden, but my patience has its limit.” He is now staring at you intensely. You can’t help but look away, unable to meet his eyes.

“Apologies, Your Grace.”

There is a lull as you both dance, dazzling the ball’s attendant with a beautifully performed waltz. You can tell that the Duke is at a loss on what to say, now that you know his secret. His charms, you think, are superficial. They are merely a facade to cover up his deficient manners, and he is also protected by his title and rank in society.

Up close, he is quite handsome to be sure. But is that truly all there is to it? A pleasant face and a title. Is that all that matters in a suitor?

“Beautiful necklace. The ruby is the symbol of your house, is it not?”

“Your Grace is very knowledgeable.”

“Cut the formality. Don’t make this boring.” He hisses. “I owe you a great debt for not ratting me out to my mother. I’m just trying to make a normal conversation.”

“Well, you started it. Commenting on my necklace is a step away from talking about the weather.”

“You are something else.” He chuckles, as he guides you expertly through the end of the waltz.

“This season might not be so boring after all.”

══════════════════

Thank you for reading!

A/N: Omg…Gojo is going to be hard for me to write. Also, poor Ijichi is just trying his best.

See you in the next one! ♡

.

Tag: @sonotpattismith

[leisplayhouse]

i, a teenage girl, have the same vocal range as derek klena

[sundroppaladin]

Heyyy... Made another animatic awhile ago. 

Read the description for some context.

Please enjoy!

[derekklenadaily]

| Can't start off of June with this clip of "In A Crowd of Thousands" from 'Anastasia'!

[mthguy]

Derek Klena and Christy Altomare perform “In a Crowd of Thousands” from the Broadway musical Anastasia.