#diamond of the first water | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bluenpjm · 2 years

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diamond of the first water ♛ kth x oc

synopsis. The search for true love is a hazardous quest, indeed. Could such a gracious sentiment be the reason for the appearance of the Duke of Elffire? Certainly, all the Mamas of London will have an eye out on the most eligible bachelor of the season.

genre. bridgerton au ㆍ regency au ㆍ angst ㆍ smut ㆍ fluff

pairing. taehyung x oc ft. bts x oc’s

rating. M

wordcount. 5.5K

warnings. some foul language, fights, tension, and jungkook being cranky most of the time.

a/n. zoë, lily and i have been wanting to write a bridgerton au for months now!! and we found that today was the best way to cross (yet another) au from the list. so, to my other half, my lovely @taespocket. i will forever have you in my life so you can keep me calm and collected. happy birthday sunshine ♡

♛ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ― one ; two

Dearest reader,

As the season opens, it seems only fitting that one would stay alert. The most prestigious families are exhilarated with the possibility of their oldest being declared the diamond of the season. I can’t help but wonder if this year, the Queen’s senses will be sharpened enough. After all, what happened to the Belgraves after their oldest was found bilk with a married man was a shame… Wasn’t it?

As such, it does not do to dwell on past mistakes, as now all attention must fall on the arrival of the Duke of Elffire — isn’t he the most eligible bachelor? I wonder if anyone will be able to catch his attention and infiltrate his cold heart. All say that the warmth of spring is the best to melt the ice from the winter. One can only dwell so much on why the Duke acts in such a way.

After Lord Bridgerton’s marriage festivities and, of course, the successful pairing of his sister Daphne in the previous year, one can only expect to see how his cousin, Lord Middleton, will do, as his sister, Eleanor, comes of age and is most certain to be a debutant. I’m certain one would love to know more about this family, as the Bridgertons have had such a perfect record… Does it run in the family, or will the Middletons fall from grace and present us with a thrilling time?

Let us wait, as I will return to you with nothing but the truth of what goes on in the Ton.

Yours truly,

Lady Birdwhistle.

“Honora,” Jungkook’s stern voice sounded across the room, making the youngest of the Middleton family lift her fingers from the piano tiles, abruptly interrupting the song she was playing. “Go check on your sister. It’s taking ages.”

Her eyes lifted slowly from the instrument and traveled across the room to where her brother was sitting. Before she could even open her mouth, he had already raised his eyebrows at the not-so-subtle roll of her eyes. “Now, brother… As you see, I am rather busy. As for you, you’re merely sitting. Get up and go check on our sister.”

Jimin and Hoseok’s laughter fills the room, noticing Junkook’s glare on the youngest of the Middletons and how careless she continued playing, now a more upbeat tune, making the mocking of her brother complete. “What are you two bozos laughing at?”

“Aren’t you in luck that you’re the head of the house, brother?” Hoseok teased, exchanging looks between his brothers. As the middle children, with only a year separating them, they are closer than anyone else in the family.

“I can only imagine Jungkook being easily dominated by his wife.” Jimin joins, hitting Hoseok’s leg as he falls deep in laughter.

“Perhaps we should present you two as bachelors for this year’s season.” Jungkook got up, adjusting the vest he had. “Mother!”

“Hey, hey!” Hoseok was quick to get up, following after the head of the house.

“It does sound brilliant, doesn’t it, brother?” Jungkook continued, now leaving the living room at a fast pace. “After all, you have been spending an awful lot of time on those art things of yours. I believe it would–”

Jungkook is rendered speechless as he comes face to face with his sister, Eleanor, gracefully coming down the stairs. Her hands, covered with lacy white gloves barely touched the stair’s handrail as one pinched the long fabric of the blue dress she wore that contrasted with her pale skin perfectly. Her hair, in a bun plaint, fought to escape, some strawberry-golden locks already celebrating their freedom as they smoothly swayed.

“Sister,” Hoseok steps forward, his features soft as his eyes smile but his mouth is somewhat agape.

“What are you two fighting over?” The smile on her lips made it known that she was used — or better, expecting — her brothers' antiques. A peaceful day at the Middleton residence was rare.

“Hoseok was pondering about being a bachelor for this season.” Swinging his arm around his brother’s shoulders, Jungkook gives his sister a big smile that she decoded as splattered with mischief.

“Is that so?” Eleanor laughs.

“Jungkook, you should follow your brother’s lead. After all, you are the oldest and should be the one giving the example.” Their mother, Grace, speaks.

With a long sigh, Jungkook rubs his temples. “Mother…”

The matriarch of the home ignores her oldest son, hands tightly wrapped around one another behind her back as she strolls into the living room, her children following her shut.

“Are you all still sitting? Goodness, have you all lost notion of time?” Eleanor teases her siblings, hands on her hips as if she were the one waiting for them to be ready. The bag around her wrist was small, with a pearly white color, matching her entire outfit.

“El, you look stunning!” Jimin jumps to his sister’s side, hand finding hers and lifting it up, making the girl twirl. “There will be suitors rounding Grosvenor Square for weeks and weeks on end.”

“Thank you,” Bowing slightly, Eleanor laughs. “And hopefully so! I intend to marry on my very first season.”

“Not that your worth is valued in the number of men that court you, sister,” Honora leaves her seat by the piano. “But I do agree with Jimin. You look magnificent.”

“Alright, shall we go?” Jungkook abruptly ends the hug between the two sisters. The way his hand falls on his hips makes everyone in the room know that his patience is running low.

“At once, brother. With such a serious look on your face, all ladies will run from you, not to you.” Jimin pats his back, leading the way towards the entrance of their home, where carriages awaited their departure.

“I shall keep it then.”

Not many had the privilege of seeing Queen Charlotte’s humble abodes. In reality, only those in the Ton — the high society, aristocrats, and gentry — had the opportunity to muse with the various invitations to the royal parties.

After all, the Queen is the most elegant hostess.

As carriages began to fill the palace’s entryway, even some of the adventuresses of the Town joined. Greeted by the royal guards, the path to follow was clear; a quick walk through the so-esteemed rose gardens and all the way up to the ballroom. Petals guided the way to guests, champagne glasses being offered as they escorted themselves to the presence of the Queen. Even the finest of families were admired at the care with which Queen Charlotte had prepared this year’s opening of the season.

Perhaps — some summoned the courage to assume as they marched closer to the center of the event — the returning of Lady Birdwhistle had awakened something in the Queen. Something that, for many years, had been dormant.

Lady Birdwhistle seemed to be the successor of Lady Whistledown — that had tormented the Queen and her Ton. But much more important than that, they had tried to damage her reputation, shedding light on the most controversial rumors (that very little had of fabrication) and were constantly questioning every step given by the royal.

Of course, others were witty to determine that the new mystery author — a copycat, by the words shared by the Queen to ones closest to her — was never in the presence of Her Royal Highness, had it needed to be someone completely mad to have the gallantry to provoke the head of the Country.

And the talk amongst the high society was that this year, the Queen was determined to find whoever the filthy creature that had dared to comment so nonchalantly over her past decisions was. As the successor of Lady Whistledown or not, Lady Birdwhistle was certain to pay for all that had been said. Of course, their fate was still uncertain, at the moment, as the Queen secretly was often mixed between disgust and admiration for the audacity of the upcoming writer.

As the Queen’s arrival into the ballroom is announced, maids finish the last details — a mesh of her wig that wasn’t perfectly curled and the smallest wrinkle in the great gown she wore.

The crowd applauds her arrival. The image of the Queen is seen with marvel in the eyes of her people.

The sapphire crown she wears around her wig sets the tone of her entire attire and of what she expects to see amongst the Ton.

Finally sitting on her throne, Queen Charlotte lifts her hand up in the air, signaling she had enough flattery for the moment. The ladies by her sides are considered her closest friends — despite the Queen not trusting them with her secrets, recurring to them instead for the latest gossip. Their attires match the gown of the Queen, dark shades of blue manifesting beside the throne, like background.

“Let us begin, shall we?”

And as the words fell out of the royal’s mouth, everyone went silent.

“If only the Queen were apt to go to war, all would be well.” The oldest of the Cromwells spoke into Honora’s ear, a giggle leaving the lips of the latter.

“One could only truly imagine.”

Sarah, much like Honora, was rebellious toward the traditions of the society she lived in. Not that she hated men and the fate that she was destined to live — in fact, she already had an eye out for one eligible bachelor. But she did find that this courtesy made to the Queen was excessive. And a little bit humorous.

“I assume that by you being here you’re not going to present yourself to the Queen?” Honora asked. As the oldest of her household and as Sarah had just gotten of age, it sounded a bit mad for her to miss this opportunity. Even to Honora.

“Of course not.” Confidently, the blonde clarifies. “I am not an object to be presented. And if I have to be completely honest, I just couldn’t help but appreciate the fuss it caused home.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.” Only a couple of years apart, the two girls had grown to be inseparable, both relishing in literature and their views of society as if they shared the same brain.

Remaining situated on her throne, the Queen judges every lady called into the room as names keep on getting announced. The silence that once filled the room is replaced by the loud murmuring of the Ton. A head not held high, a back too curved, or a dress not flattering enough was reason to get ascribed as not worthy of any man in the Queen’s eyes — or as Birdwhistle voiced, unworthy of being the Diamond of the season.

“Lady Candice, presented by her mother, the Right Honored Lady Campbell.”

The ballroom was filled by the families of the ladies presenting themselves and some other curious eyes, while the eager candidates awaited outside for their names to be called.

Eleanor grew more and more concerned at the sight of the various reactions of the candidates that returned to the room she was in. Some came back crying, the blush in their cheeks defeated by the tears that rolled down their cheeks. In contrast, others spoke passionately and proudly about the Queen’s reactions.

“I can’t feel my fingertips,” Eleanor whispered in her mother’s ear as the girl called, Candice, came back with teary eyes, her mother trying to catch up to her as she fled from the scene.

“Don’t be foolish now, dear. You look splendid– you are splendid.” Hand carefully fixing the tiara she wore in her head, Grace, the matriarch of the Middleton household, spoke.

“Focus ahead and avoid the Queen’s stare.” A girl spoke to Eleanor, a soft smile adorning her features. “My sister told me to do exactly that.”

“Thank you, Hani.” Eleanor offered the girl a smile but it was weaker than she had intended.

A circle of compassion was quick to form around Eleanor, as the anxious feeling grew more on her chest. In reality, the kind words flying from the lips of the girls around her were making her feel worse, rather than the intended opposite. She wanted to shoo them all away and have a minute to compose herself but she knew it would look bad to act in such a way. Even so, she was about to be called in.

“Is all of this really necessary? Or are you all hypocrites that like to pretend we’re not all here for the same reason?” The voice of Dalia scoffing broke the circle and had it been any other voice, Eleanor could’ve breathed in relief.

Dalia lived right next door to the Middletons with her mother. An only child. After her father left town to be with another woman (or as they told, passed away in a boating accident), her mother shielded Dalia from all the talk of the Town. She became unbearable.

Being the same age as Eleanor, they used to arrange play dates daily. Honora was still a baby at the time. But the friendship faded as they grew older. With Dalia, it was her this and her that. She was always the most beautiful; the most educated; the most graceful; the richest; the best. And her narcissism was quick to make her lonely, and intolerable to her peers. Her only real asset was her family’s position in society as the escape of the man of the house had left both ladies well in life, a tantalizing allowance being established in exchange for silence and freedom.

“There is no room for ugly ducklings, darling. I would suggest going home. Or better yet, paying close attention now,” The sarcastic smile on the girl’s face made Eleanor roll her eyes. “I intend on dazing the Queen.”

“Try to not break a leg, Dalia.” Barking back, Eleanor sighs right after. Only Dalia was able to befoul with her emotions at such an important moment in her life.

“Lady Dalia, presented by her mother, Lady Emilia Fitzroy.”

The dazed look on the royal secretary as he calls the lady’s name is noticeable and those in the room can tell that the Queen's expectations were not being met, as she had grown more impatient with each presentation.

Dalia walks into the room, head held high as her mother follows suit, hands holding the excess fabric of the dress she wore.

“Your Majesty,” Bowing slightly, Dalia never takes her eyes off the Queen.

For a moment the room goes quiet, as the debutant holds her position in expectancy of hearing her Queen's voice. And so, gasps are heard when the Queen lifts herself from her throne. She hadn't done such a thing for any of the other ladies that had presented themselves to her. A smile to another debutant, perhaps.

“Beautiful posture.” The Queen compliments before returning to her seat, the many ladies by her side struggling to fix her dress in the small gap before Her Majesty could sit.

“Thank yo–” Dalia begins to speak but is abruptly interrupted.

“Off you go now.”

Bowing yet another time, she turns, back facing the Queen and her ladies. And as she begins to walk, her dress comes apart, only the sound of the ripping fabric silencing once again the murmuring audience.

Cheeks turning another shade of pink, Dalia glares at her mother, as she whines through gritted teeth. “Mommy,”

“Move along.” Her mother ushers her out of the room, a forced smile on her features as she side-eyes the audience, but not quick enough that some remarks about her status are still heard.

“Hadn’t she mentioned that she got her dress from a Parisian designer?”

“What a misfortune for the most fortunate family of the Ton.”

“Clearly, she didn’t visit Miss Kim's boutique,” Sarah comments to her friend, an amused expression on her features. Not wanting to be cruel, she would never keep the pleasure of relishing over Dalia's misery, as herself had also once been the target of the debutant’s woe.

“Nari refused to dress her, can y’ believe?” Hoseok whispered between the girls, only to be flustered by his own comment as inquisitive eyes fall on him. “Miss Kim, I mean. The modiste.”

“Of course, brother, the modiste.” Honora teases, watching as Hoseok distances himself and into the comfort of his brothers’ company.

Pondering hard over her next move, Eleanor mentally apologizes to her mother, knowing how displeased she will be with her behavior. Once arriving home, she would find a way to appease her mother for the scene. Stepping closer to the lady in distress, she walks with her.

“Step one: look pretty. Done.”

With her hand lifted, the debutant acts as if there were a notebook.

“Step two: get praised. Almost done.”

Dalia stops on her heels, now looking straight into Eleanor’s eyes. The height difference makes the praised debutant look down on the teaser.

“Step three: make a fool of myself…” Hissing, Eleanor gives her rival her best innocent look. “I’ll make an effort to skip that part.”

Baffled, Dalia opens and closes her mouth, yet again embarrassed by how every lady in the room now had her eyes on her, their features with a comical curiosity displayed. Rarely feeling such a way, her hands travel to her dress, doing her best to hide the catastrophe that had gone down in her attire.

“Eleanor, that is quite enough.” Grace grabs her daughter by the wrist, pulling her back into line as Dalia’s mother begins to pull hers in the opposite direction, towards the exit.

“Actually mother,” The ruin-dressed girl begins, recomposed. “I would love to see how Eleanor’s presentation goes. Let us stay a little longer.”

The Fitzroys find a place by the doors that lead to the ballroom. Other than this new found-curiosity for watching Eleanor’s performance, Dalia is blinded by the need to assert no one is complimented as nicely as she was. Despite the final gaffe, she knows that the title of Diamond is hers.

It had always meant a great deal to be praised by the Queen. A line of suitors was certain to follow such compliment and only a disaster would ruin the chances of a debutant not marrying in her first season.

Two more girls go in.

The last, Dorothea, faints as soon as she reaches close enough to the Queen, hadn’t the miss eaten a thing in the last three days, surviving solely on water so she could fit her attire and look perfect for her debut. Her Royal Highness’s closest friends fall into laughter, being silenced immediately after.

Signaling for the royal guards to move the weak debutant out of the way, the Queen frowns, her head being supported by her hand, elbow resting on the arms of her throne. “What a boring day, indeed.” As if commenting to herself, the Queen lets out a whisper. Despite her humdrum expression, the thought of Lady Birdwhistle crosses her mind, the harsh words that the ghostwriter will write about the opening of the season she planned almost palpable.

“Lady Eleanor, presented by her mother, the Right Honorable Lady Middleton.”

The words of the royal secretary sound muffled behind the closed doors adorned with gold specs that reach all the way up to the ceiling. Eleanor can only feel her heartbeat, her senses numbed by the anxiety she had been feeling ever since stepping foot out of the number 17th of Grosvenor Square.

The doors swing open, as the royal guards have had the consent of the Queen to see the debutant. Eleanor catches the curious eye of Her Majesty, that meets her with a smirk at the end of the room, immediately charmed by the color of the dress the Middleton miss was wearing.

“What was it that you said to me, Eleanor? Try not to break a leg?”

The whisper made by Dalia is ignored, as Eleanor smiles widely, preparing to walk with confidence. From the corner of her eye, she spots her siblings, Jungkook, Hoseok, and Jimin, as well as her youngest sister, Honora with her loyal friend Sarah right by her side. Her smile now changes into a calmer one, resting assured that even if the Queen isn’t impressed by her, her family was there to support her.

With Lady Grace right by Eleanor’s side, Dalia sees the opportunity she so long had been waiting for. The chance to humiliate yet again Eleanor, as payback for the teasing she had done to her only minutes ago.

The Queen arranges her posture in her chair, eyebrow lifted as she grows eager to see the debutant closer.

And that is all the motivation Dalia needed. No one was going to steal her title. Especially not Eleanor.

With Eleanor’s dress tail passing right by Dalia, her foot comes in contact with it, securing it hardly. The sudden halt in her flowy movement makes the debutant lose balance from the heels she was wearing and Dalia sees the perfect moment to release the fabric, ending with her rival on the floor.

“Oh, for goodness sake.” The Queen is quicker than anyone to react as gasps are heard across the crowd at the unexpected fall.

Filled with embarrassment, Eleanor gets up, eyes incapable of meeting the Queen’s nor of anyone in the room as she bows to the royal before leaving with haste. As she walks past Dalia, her voice sounds muffled by the ringing in her ears, the fleeing debutant being too heartbroken to care.

Jungkook is quick to act, pushing past the crowd and rushing after his sister.

“Mother,” Honora is by her matriarch in a heartbeat, eyes wide and trembling from the strong squeeze she felt in her chest.

“Let us go, Honora.”

And as the family flees to what they consider to be the safety of their home, the party at the Queen’s abode remains, now the murmuring regarding the Middletons discernibly loud.

Grosvenor Square had never been so quiet.

On the 17th, the mood is ominous. Much like he had been hours prior, Jungkook sits in his living room. Hoseok is also there, despite not a single word being exchanged between the two. After a couple of minutes go by, Honora joins them. Opening her mouth a couple of times, she fails, uncharacteristically, to find the words for the situation at hand.

The matriarch comes into the hall, a pensive expression on her features.

“Is Eleanor’s parade over yet?” Jungkook finally speaks, removing the fingers that had been supporting his temple.

“That’s a little harsh, brother.” Honora stands, arms crossed. Despite the difference in views, Honora and Eleanor always had each other's backs. “Even for you.”

“Oh please, sister. She’s clearly overreacting.” Mimicking the actions of Honora, Jungkook stands as well.

“Is that so?” The mother joins the conversation, her features changing into ones that almost look amused.

And before she can continue, Jungkook carries on. “Of course. Eleanor’s been locked in her chamber for hours now. And the entire house stopped over this childish fantasy of hers.”

“Perhaps you will find it amusing when tomorrow you will be burned by finding her a husband.” Smiling to the maid that had just served her tea, Grace raves scornfully.

“Me?” Jungkook scoffs.

“Of course. You can’t proclaim to be the head of the family just to after zest over the title and influence it has granted you, my dearest son. It’s your duty.”

Scoffing, Jungkook tilts his head slightly to the head, tongue moving through the inside of his cheek. “And it will be thanks to such title and influence that I won’t suffer of a headache over finding Eleanor’s a suitable husband, much like you think.”

“Goodness, brother, you sound insufferable.” Honora strides off the room, going up the flight of stairs.

Before she has the chance to knock, the sobs of Eleanor can be heard from the corridor, the door that leads to her older sister’s room being slightly open. Reaching in closer, Jimin comes into view. Sitting on the bed, their sister’s head lies in his lap, as he delicately caresses her hair, now no longer in a bun but running free through the satin sheets of the bed.

“But you don–don’t understand, brother.” Honora is quick to enter the room, thumb finding Eleanor’s cheeks as a tear falls. Giving her a sympathetic smile, she kneels on the floor by their side. “I deserved it.”

“I know that is nonsense,” Jimin speaks confidently. “You would never deserve such a thing El.”

“I was a brat.” Eleanor now sits on the bed. “All based on a whim.”

“What happened?” Honora presses her lips together, fearing her burning question will cause her sister to start sobbing yet again as she had just started soothing down.

Sighing deeply, Eleanor covers her eyes with her hands. “Dalia, she was being a berk. And I was so nervous— and quite honestly, done with her— so I might’ve been a bit rude.”

“How so?” The youngest presses a little more, now too curious to dare stop.

“I mocked her.”

“Eleanor—”

“Better yet even, I humiliated her in front of everyone. Mother even told me to stop.”

“What did you say?” Jimin was speechless, watching how Eleanor’s face carried sadness mixed with a hint of shame.

“That she made a fool of herself and that I would be certain not to do the same.” Shrugging, Eleanor gets up from the bed. “Honestly, I am just so tired of her antiques. She’s always so rude to everyone and never—not a soul— lifts a finger and tells her as she deserves.”

“You already know Dalia gets her way.”

“That’s the issue at hand, brother.” Sitting on the bed, Eleanor huffs. She was a ball of stress, ready to burst at any second.

“Eleanor…”

Honora stars and by the way she drags the name of her sister in her tongue, both of her older siblings know that they want her to stop speaking, as she is about to lecture them on how the society they are trapped in isn’t ideal.

“You placed so much pressure on yourself, that the thing was bound to turn south. Don’t you agree?” The question is directed to her brother that remains as still as possible, teeth biting his bottom lip.

“Honora.” Eleanor frowns.

“I mean it, sister! And—such festivities are so ridiculous. Not to speak of how humiliating it is to you as a woman!” Speech quick, Honora doesn’t mind the expressions on the faces in front of her. “Your value shouldn’t be measured by how pretty your face is—or your dress. No one should be judging you for it.”

Laughing drily, Eleanor interrupts. “Sometimes I forget how naive you can be. Of course, people shouldn’t be judging. Much like I shouldn’t have behaved the way I did. But the reality, sister, is that I did. And I did it willingly. Well aware of the consequences that awaited me at home.”

“Then are you an idiot?”

“Honora— Eleanor— that is enough.” Jimin intervenes but his voice sounds mute between the discussion going on between the two Middleton girls.

“No, I am not an idiot. But I enjoy doing as I please. Much like you do when you dress inappropriately at events. Or when, instead of attending your dance classes, you prefer to sneak and go read your books with Sarah Cromwell.” Eleanor takes a deep breath, recomposing herself. “Your view of what society should be is as correct as everyone else. No one cares and it won’t change a thing, Honora.”

“As long as there are people that think as you do, of course, it won’t.” Crossing her arms, Honora frowns. “I was just trying to say that it isn’t as much of a big deal as you are trying to make it seem.”

“Yes, El, you will have other opportunities.” Jimin smiles encouragingly.

“No, I won’t.” Desperate and tired of the conversation, Eleanor raises her voice. “I had this opportunity. Only this one. Now, no one will want to come near me. And I won’t marry in my first season. Hell, I’ll be lucky if I manage to find a husband by the time I’m in my third season.”

Distressed, Eleanor doesn’t wait for an answer from her siblings, tired of listening and truly not caring about whatever more they had to say to her, she walks straight to the front door.

Indubitably, the commotion is quick to attract the attention of the prying siblings that wanted to check in on their sister but were too hesitant of making her feel worst. Hoseok and Jungkook are by the front door when Eleanor reaches it and she doesn’t pay them any mind.

“Sister, where do you think you’re going?” Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest, astounded at Eleanor’s behavior.

“Are you alright?” Hoseok patters, features filled with concern.

“Eleanor, are you deaf?” The oldest chips in again. But his oldest sister doesn’t bother to answer and slams the door in their faces.

The beautiful sunny day that had presented itself for the Queen’s party now had begun to fade, the sun already set on the horizon and the moon shining bright in its place. The cold wind felt like a relief against Eleanor’s cheeks and as she walked, further away from her house, her pace began to slow.

Now feeling calmer, Eleanor let out a puff of air she didn’t realize she was holding.

“Is your tantrum over?” Stopping in his tracks, Hoseok mimics his sister’s actions, arms crossed over his chest as he too tried to suppress the smile that threatened to escape from his lips.

“Perhaps.” Eleanor relaxes her figure, the smile finally showing.

“So, should we head home?”

The two speak with a couple of meters between them. At this hour, the streets are calm, but there is still some movement. Hoseok almost feels like there could be a pair of prying eyes in one of the many houses they had passed by in Grosvenor Square.

“Could we stroll around the block?” Knowing she’s undeserving of such grace from her brother, Eleanor’s eyes fall to the ground. “Just for a little longer.”

“Let us do it then!” Hoseok is cheerful as they resume their stroll, Eleanor walking backward as she keeps facing her brother. “As of now, I am pondering on ways you are to repay me for this.”

“Excuse you?!” Indignation is not felt in the miss' face as she falls into laughter. “Repay you for what, brother? Hadn’t it been me, you would still be stuck home. Now, I would dare say that the night is rather lovely.”

“I’d say such perspective depends on the company,” Seeing his sister scoff, he lets out a strident laugh. “Now face forward, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Not like I haven’t fallen already,”

And like a premonition, as Eleanor resumes her back-walking she bumps into someone as she turns the corner of the street, quickly losing her balance. Certain to fall, she closes her eyes, embracing herself for the collision that never happens.

“Are you alright?” The deep voice makes the Middleton debutant open her eyes. As she realizes she’s in the arms of an unknown man, she is quick to recompose herself, fingers playing with her hair as a nervous tic.

“Forgive me, sir. I was not paying attention.”

“Worry not– sir?” Eleanor tilts her head at the sudden surprised look on the man’s face.

“Pardon?”

“Am I seriously to believe you don’t know who I am?” Despite the pretentious undertone, the man looks somewhat amused.

Eleanor, on the other hand, has her eyebrow arched. “And who would you be, sir?”

And before the man has the opportunity of answering the confused lady standing in front of him, Hoseok comes into view. As soon as he lays eyes on the man, he opens up a smile that confuses his sister even further.

“Kim!”

“Middleton!” With the same enthusiasm, the man opens up his arms, engulfing Hoseok in a small hug. “How have you been?”

“Alright. Jungkook didn’t mention you would come to town.”

“Ah yes… I still have to reach out to him.” Nodding, it seems like the man is taking a mental note. “I had some business to attend. I know the season has just opened so I wanted to keep this quiet so I am not drowned by the frenetic mamas.”

Both men laugh. “Excuse me?” Eleanor glares at them as she had been ignored ever since their conversation started.

“Oh, of course!” Hoseok scratches the back of his neck. “This is my sister, Eleanor. And this is Taehyung, the Duke of Elffire.”

Eleanor is caught off guard at the sudden declaration of the title of the man. “Oh… and how do you know my brother–Jungkook?”

“It’s a pleasure.” Taehyung smiles charmingly, one that widens at the frown that shows on the girl’s face. “We went to university together.”

“I see.” The way Eleanor presses her lips together, suppressing a smile, makes Hoseok sweat.

“Well, we won’t keep you any longer.”

“Your dukeship.” Eleanor eyes the Duke.

“I’ll see you at the club, Hoseok.” Taehyung’s smile changes into a closed face. “Miss Middleton.”

Intertwining her arm in her brother, Eleanor begins to walk home and as she takes one last glance at the Duke, she finds him staring. And as he smiles at her, she turns ahead, now trying to focus on anything but the curious thoughts that cloud her mind about her hasty meeting with the Duke of Elffire.

♛ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ― chapter two coming soon.

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