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Chapter Text

Tea wasn't something she enjoyed. Sure, bobas were fucking awesome, but hot tea? Not really her. But she'd spent enough time in Regency Era England that she built a tolerance for it. She could drink and endure tea when the situation called for it, but like a normal modern human being stuck in the past, she craved coffee as if her life depended on it. Being the now rich young lady that she was, she managed to acquire coffee beans imported from Spain, and it was hella expensive but what was she about to do with her money if she couldn't spend it? 

Adding a number of sugar cubes in tea, a way she learned that made it more bearable, she stirred her drink and stared at the man in front of her. 

Anthony Bridgerton was Fiyero Tigelaar. 

Her best friend kept on pushing her to watch Bridgerton but she never really found the time to watch it when she was so busy with her Star Wars obsession. That started with Pedro Pascal being the Mandalorian; that it just spiraled down from there and look what she found: Ewan McGregor as Space Jesus. The same Ewan McGregor that she crushed hard on when she saw the man on Angels & Demons as the villainy priest. She felt so sinful for crushing on a priest, even if it's just on a movie, but why did they have to make him so hot?! 

So yeah, she was unaware that Fiyero Tigelaar was Anthony Bridgerton. She watched Wicked in cinemas because she was a frustrated theater kid at heart and because she had always loved the wickedly talented Adele Dazeem. She was pleasantly surprised that she loved Fiyero in the movie because the actor played him so fruity. She agreed with the gays that they won with Jonathan Bailey and it was like Jonathan Groff all over again! 

Why didn't her best friend tell her that Fiyero was Anthony Bridgerton? Then, before she died (did she die?) she could've at least binge-watched the entire show!

"How many languages are you fluent, Miss Williams?" God, his voice sounds like that of an angel's! 

"That depends." 

"Depends on what?" 

Depends on which life, Eri guessed. In her first life, she was so fluent in numerous foreign and local languages of her country that she actually lost count of how many there were. And in this life, her brother told her that she studied three.

"Three, I guess." Eri shrugged, a habit she had from her past life that she couldn't get away from even when she learned that no respectable ladies do such things. "Italian, French and Greek. Four, if you add English." 

Anthony Bridgerton narrowed his eyes at her and Eri sighed in disappointment. Why does he have to be so serious?

She noticed that when she sighed, the man looked a bit confused before he schooled his expression.

"Do you play any instrument? The pianoforte? Or are you more interested in arts?" 

"No to the first two." She could beat box and pen tap, but that's not something she could say. "I am interested in the arts, but if you ask me to draw or paint you, you'll find yourself deeply offended by my work." 

"I see. How is your needlework?"

The last time Eri tried to sew, she heard that noble young ladies know their way around a needle and thread—the family had to call the physician because there was too much blood, and no, don't ask her what happened.

"Horrible."

"... How are your numbers?"

"I can count."

"And is that all?"

"Do you want me to solve a trigonometry problem for you, is that it?" She sarcastically asked, starting to get irritated by his questions. 

"Do you read?" 

"Do you sing?" 

That seemed to stump the man and made him look at her as if she'd lost her mind.

Eri was annoyed. Really, she was. She was expecting the singing, dancing, and charming Fiyero and not this—whatever this is. She could endure the game of twenty questions if she would get him to sing for her. It was fair trade after all. That's why, when he answered in negative, Eri sighed again. 

"That's a disappointment," she commented.

Occupying a table, a few paces away from them, Eri saw her brother giving him a questioning look that says 'do you want to go home?' and she loved him dearly for it. She shook her head and gave the grumpy Fiyero her attention. 

Eri didn't really care if she's not acting like a proper and well-bred noble young lady. He was rude to her first. And she wouldn't get a song and dance number from him after this terrible tea session. What was the point of accepting his invitation again?

Ah, that's right, Eri was curious about the main character.

This was what got her best friend in a twist? Really? She really has no taste at all.

Anthony Bridgerton seemed deeply offended by his comment that he looked like he was about to say something in rebuttal, but, in a brusque manner, he just asked:

"Are you interested in being a mother? And how many children do you want?" 

Eri couldn't help it. She laughed. Out loud. And geez, so much to pretending to be a perfect young lady. This was her first appearance back in society after her long coma, and Eri wanted to make a good impression. But damn, did he really have to ask her that?! 

Now, every patron in the tea shop was looking in their table and just watching the young daughter of Earl Williams completely lose it. 

"I beg your pardon—" Eri tried to control her laughter. She really did. Her brother looked at her as if he were so concerned that she was having an episode. "I just... Ha... I didn't know you are so funny!" 

There was this expression on the Viscount's face that simply told Eri that he'd rather be anywhere else but the presence of a crazy young lady.

"I am... Not trying to be funny." 

Now that, that got Eri's surprise.

"Really? You really ask ladies that question? In your first meeting?" She would never understand these people. If someone asked her that on their first meeting, from a man that's basically a stranger, she'd think he's a creep. And a total sexist.

"It is a perfectly normal question." 

"It's really not," Eri patronizes. She couldn't help it. That was such a backwards way of thinking that made Eri remember that feminism wasn't a thing here.

The first formal Women's Rights Convention was in 1848, and that's still a long way. Sure, there were female authors hinting in the ideas but it's still such a foreign concept that men like Anthony Bridgerton, she thought, couldn't fathom such a thing. 

Again, the man narrowed his eyes at her.

"Miss Williams, this was a nice tea—" 

"It's not," Eri contradicted him again and rolled her eyes when the man remained glaring at her. Rest in peace, Fiyero, you will be remembered. "Viscount Bridgerton, may I ask the purpose of this invitation for tea? I admit that I am curious as to why you have invited me when I couldn't recall any chances of us having a conversation or being an acquaintance." 

"No, we are not acquaintances. But what else do you think I have invited you for aside from the fact that I have considered you to be a prospect for my wife?"

She stared at the man. Was he being serious?

Oh, he was being serious!

It was strange for Eri. All of this was strange. She had never encountered anything like this before in her past life. She was twenty-two, and at twenty-two she had relationships but nothing serious enough for her to think of marriage. She forgot that ladies at this age was considered a bit old to marry. Girls debut at eighteen and at that age, they are pushed and pressured to marry. 

(Considered, he said in the past tense.)

Eri heaved a long sigh; she seems to be doing that a lot. 

"And have you interrogated other women, too?"

"I didn't interrogate them," the man denied, offended by her use of word. "I am merely using the most effective way to seek out a wife as soon as possible."

How easy it was to offend him. He should be thankful that Eri's dialing down the crazies.

"Well, good luck with that," Eri muttered to herself, wishing the poor woman that would be saddled with this not-charming, not-Fiyero man. 

Poor female lead; you would have Eri's silent support.

"And those questions were your basis then? For your wife?" 

"Yes."

Eri raised an eyebrow. "Then how come you still haven't chosen someone to marry when all those questions could be answered by any suitable young lady of the ton?"

Lord Bridgerton stirred his untouched tea. "I simply find their answers... lacking." 

"Change your questions, then," she said as if it were that easy. And it was. It really was. "You can't exactly know someone just from those questions alone. Even a child could do better than that."

That offended him.

"Are you comparing me to a child?" He gritted his teeth. 

"Not really," Eri answered and refused to elaborate.

She glanced at her brother, who was still watching them like a hawk, and nodded to him. Elijah stood up and approached their table.

Eri stood up, and the Viscount, the gentleman that he was supposed to be, scrambled to stand up with her.

"I prolonged my stay, and I am starting to feel unwell," Eri lied in the man's face and she added without an ounce of hesitation, "you really should try singing... Let's not do this again, yeah?" 

Foregoing a bow or a curtsy—whatever was right and dictated by society—Eri took her brother's arm and strode out of the tea shop.

The sun was bright and hot outside. Being the caring brother that he was, Elijah opened Eri's parasol, ignoring its lacy and feminine design as he used it to shield her against the sun. He's really the best brother anyone could ask for. 

"Are you really feeling unwell?" 

"No, I completely lied. I need to get out of there before I strangled the man." 

Elijah laughed and shook his head. "He's the most eligible bachelor of the season."

"He is?" Eri scrunched her nose in a genuine show of confusion. If he was singing, dancing, and charming Fiyero, she could understand, but that man? "Do the ladies of the ton have low standards, brother?"

Eri sent her brother to a laughing fit.

She smiled. "Would we stop at my favorite bake shop first to buy an eclair?" 

"Anything for you, dear sister."

(It was right for Eri to decide that she shouldn't concern herself with the main characters. She shouldn't have been curious about Anthony Bridgerton and now, she was disappointed at what she learned. Eri would just stay at her house and do whatever she likes. She was just an extra after all. A background character that wouldn't affect the story.)

(Oh, how wrong she was.)

Chapter Text

She had spent so long in a dream-like state that when she first woke up, she felt like she was dreaming.

There was a bustle of loud noise as everyone around her seemed to exclaim at her sudden wakefulness, strangers crying at her bedside, and someone touching her wrist, her head, and her chest. She ignored all of that, her eyes narrowed at the canopy of her bed. 

It was a nice sage, a color pleasant to the eyes and just so vibrant yet light that she, like everyone in her generation, adored the shade. But it was strange, she realized; she never had a canopy on her bed. She was too broke to even afford it, and when she tried to search online and watch Youtube tutorials for it, she accidentally hammered her finger on the wood and decided the project to be a failure lest she injure herself greatly. She couldn't exactly pay for any medical bills that would cost.

The canopy curtain was lace, might she add, the cloth expensive-looking and not at all something she could possibly ever own. 

She just stayed there, surrounded by a lot of noise and being prodded left to right—staring at the nice canopy until she spoke. 

"... That's a nice color," she commented, her voice coming out surprisingly hoarse.

The strangers crying on her bedside cried out louder. This was a very annoying dream.

She thought that it was one of those moments where you would wake up from a dream and realize that you're still dreaming and trapped in a nightmare only to wake up, panting on your bed, and desperately wishing not to have a repeat of that experience.

But she wasn't dreaming, nor was she in a nightmare. Pain was something most people would do to get themselves to wake up, so when she realized that she was trapped, she decided to punch a mirror. She could now admit that it was an overreaction on her part, and why did she even go straight to the extreme when she could just get a paper cut? But she was feeling dramatic, and these scenes normally looked cooler in the movies, but in real life, it hurt like hell and made the people around you overreact as well. 

The family called the physician to get the sharp glasses embedded in her knuckles while they worried at her side as she pondered what the living fuck was even happening to her. 

She was in a coma, her brother (or at least this brother's body) told her. In the first few days of her wakening, she was existing on a trance, but when her scrambled mind realized that she's not where she's supposed to be, she couldn't help but feel like she's losing her mind. Her brother and her parents thought it odd that she was acting so differently from what they were used to that it took the physician explaining to them the possibility of her having amnesia for them to slightly calm down. 

But that's not right; she didn't have amnesia. She could remember most everything. She remembered that in grade school, she was chased by a dog that she had to climb on the neighbor's gates for her to be safe. She remembered that her father (her real father) was so proud of her when she passed the police academy, and when she was dropped, her mother (her real one) convinced her that it was for the best and that it wasn't her fault that she had poor health. 

Those couldn't be scenarios made up of her mind from her comatose state. They can't be. She refused it to be—she had a life. She wasn't rich or anything, but she was happy there. She was happy and living her best days. 

She spent a time shutting everyone out and mourning the life she had, the family that always supported her, and her friends that she loved to her core. She used to be someone. She knew who she was and who she could and would be.

But now, did she have the right to suddenly barge into this body's life and just live it for her? 

Wasn't that just cruel?

Inhumane?

Did she... kill her? 

She was so confused by everything that her this body's brother managed to get her out of her funk by inviting her to ride out. Apparently she this body loved riding horses so much that she even owned one. Her brother expected a natural rider; of course this body has been riding horses since she was a kid, but she wasn't her that at the horse's first trot—she fell down.

Hard. 

This body was supposed to have muscle memory, but it seemed that even in this life, she managed to acquire that clumsiness borderline on being a fire hazard, a trait she inherited from her original mother, that it just made her realize that maybe this life wasn't so bad.

Face aching and mouth filled with soil, she couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Her brother was so horrified that the long expletives he released, as he jumped from his horse and ran to her side, made her laugh harder. 

All was fine, she decided. She could do this. 

She didn't even need to pretend to be who this body was; her parents and brother accepted the fact that she had an amnesia and she wouldn't be who she was before. Although saddened by that fact, her waking moment was something they treasured more and she started to love them for that.

They adored her, she realized. Everything she asks for, they provide and immediately give it to her. No silk too expensive, no book too rare. She was a beloved child of a well-loving family. It wasn't so hard to live when she could have this. 

She was twenty-two. Before, at that age, there weren't really expectations for her but to live the life of a young adult. She could aspire for any life or profession she wanted and no one would even bat an eye if she chose to be a nun or a scientist. But she couldn't do that here. Now, at twenty-two, young women her age were expected to marry. 

But not her. Never her. 

Her parents never once pushed her to accept an invitation from any men that set their eyes on her. Her brother was too protective of her that one night; he approached her and told her to never feel obligated to marry someone. She could live with him for the rest of her life, damn what people would think.

They were Americans after all. It was expected of them to be slightly different from the ton. Yes, they still follow the norm if they want to, but if the ton found it rude when they rejected invitations or adhere to their traditions in a slightly skewed way, no one really pointed it out in their faces. Foreigners will be foreigners no matter how long they stay here in England. 

And she was thankful that she's not British. She wasn't exactly American in her past life, but it would do. She's just happy that she still has Asian blood in her and that her complexion was shades darker than these pasty Brits. She was worried for a moment because of slavery and racism, but she hadn't encountered it yet. She asked her brother about it and found out that it had been long dissolved. And thank God for that; she couldn't imagine what she would do if their family practiced those. She was nobility in this life after all and those disgusting practices were normalized in the past.

(She spent some time in police training that she has experience with physical fights and learned strategic and hypothetical warfare, but she's no Harriet Tubman; she couldn't exactly lead a revolution like that. She'd die early, she thought, if she stood up and fought for what was right.)

She was a people of color and still is a people of color! That's something to celebrate about.

This life seemed too kind for her. She has a loving family, a staff that gushes and adores her every move, a wealth that she never has to worry about how she'd pay for her electrical or water bills. She could just live her life as a noble girl and do whatever she wants. And of course, this was the moment when a letter for her arrived. 

"... Viscount Anthony Bridgerton," she read the title and name of the sender of the letter written in bold and flowing cursive.

Where had she heard that before—ah, riiiiight. So, she was isekai-ed into this story, huh?

Why, Bridgerton of all shows (or was this the book series? Huh?) out there? If it's Regency Era, then she could just be transmigrated into Hamilton, at least she's intimately familiar with that. 

(Memorizing an almost 3-hour musical came naturally to her because she was so obsessed with it for months that the playlist was on repeat and even made her Spotify Wrapped.)

But the year was 1814; she was too late for the American Revolution, and if she's remembering history right, Napoleon Bonaparte's trying and failing to invade Russia at this time. Hm...no thanks, she'd rather stay in England and enjoy her fantasy of being a noble young lady. 

"Should I pen a rejection, sister?" Elijah, her older brother, was too nosy for his own good and was reading the letter over her shoulder. 

Eri (Erica Josephine Williams was her new name, but she chose to use Eri as it was the closest-sounding to her old one) should say yes to her brother. She didn't want to involve herself in whatever nonsense this was. She hasn't yet read or watched Bridgerton but she was aware of what it was. It was a historical romance that made the fans go crazy because of how perfect Anthony Bridgerton was and how steamy the sex scenes were—at least, those were her best friend's words; she had always recommended Bridgerton but she was too lazy to really pick it up. And it was romance, she's not too gungho on any modern romance media when it didn't involve Pedro Pascal—her last actor to have a hyperfixation for.

She died (did she die?) without even having the chance of watching Pedro Pascal in a romance genre and that just sucks! At least, she still have the image of him being General Acacius, so there's that. 

A hum from her brother woke her from her reverie. Right. 

Suddenly, a curious feeling bloomed in her. What's the harm of seeing the main character, right? It's not like Eri's a main character herself. She sincerely doubts that she's more than someone from the peanut gallery. 

"I want to accept it." 

"...Really?" 

"Yes, it's just an invitation for tea after all."

Looking at her with dubiousness, her brother nodded and went to his study to pen a letter. Eri could write the letter herself, but it's troublesome to use the quill and make an extra effort for the main character that wouldn't even affect her life. 

She's surrounded by characters who turned into real people, if possible, she'd avoid them. But again, there's no harm in being curious about who they were. It's just like meeting a famous actor, right? 

What's the worst that could happen?

Humming on her breath, Eri stood up from her seat and went to inform her personal attendant about her upcoming meeting with a Viscount over tea. "My, my, at Waterloo, Napoleon did surrender..."

Chapter Text

There is nothing quite like the sweet-scented smell of success. But after taking in the scene from last night's festivities, it is clear the season won't be quite so fragrant for everyone. 

The Viscount Bridgerton's own mama may have loudly declared her eldest son's lofty intentions to marry, yet I cannot be the only one wondering if this former Capital-R-Rake is, indeed, ready to flourish. Perhaps the viscount, like the rest of us, is simply waiting for the queen to finally name her diamond.

Or perhaps this author should take matters into her own hands... 

When Eri learned the existence of Lady Whistledown, she was excited. It was a column penned by a woman in Regency Era England and how scandalous that must be for the members of the ton? So she asked her attendant if the older woman could acquire one for her, and reading the latest publication, she just couldn't help but be disappointed. Why must this place continue to disappoint her so? 

First it was the non-dancing, grumpy Fiyero, and now it was Lady Whistledown. This was basically a gossip column, talking about the latest happenings with the nobilities and such, and lightly antagonizing the queen to somehow gain everyone's attention. The queen hated this column, she heard from her attendant, and Eri thought there's no such thing as bad publicity, so she could give Lady Whistledown that. But Eri didn't really give enough fucks for her to care about the people in the upper society for her to be truly invested in this column just like everyone else.

Why must she?

She's a member of the peanut gallery, a canon fodder, whatever she did, it wouldn't affect the story nor the lives of the main characters. She could die right on the spot and no one would bat an eye. 

(She'd avoid that. Dying again. Her parents were too loving that they'd be devastated with her death, and she's afraid that Elijah would follow her. He thought the world of her and even death wouldn't stop him from showing his affections, the man was intense like that.)

Closing the column and setting it down, Eri marched to her papa's study and unceremoniously opened the doors. She saw the man jump on his seat but he didn't reprimand her for her inelegant manners. She truly loves this family.

"I require a tutor on the pianoforte," she announced, nodding at her father with import.

"Ah, I see. Whatever for, dear?" 

She was bored, and Eri required something to keep her mind from whispering at her to do something outrageous like jogging. Before, Eri was physically active, even if she had poor health to pair with it. But she imagined her brother would have a heart attack if he saw her running around the grounds wearing a pair of men's trousers because she refused to run on one of her satin and silk dresses. She's self-aware enough to know that there were quirks and habits that made Eri odd, even amongst the eccentricities of the nobilities; she refuses to be seen as some maniac on trousers. 

(But that's a thought—Eri missed sweatpants so badly. Maybe she could ask the tailor to make one for her? She'd lightly plant the idea in her brother's head, that he wouldn't even think it strange for his sister to be in trousers.)

(Eri liked that plan.)

"I intend to learn the pianoforte." After all, there's no such thing as learning late. And they have a lot of money to throw for her piano lessons. 

Her papa smiled at her fondly, as if she said something funny. "I would secure a tutor for you before this afternoon but I am certain you will not need it, dear; you are already gifted in pianoforte."

Yeah right. The last time someone told her she was 'gifted' in something, she found herself faceplanting on the cold, hard ground after the horse threw her off.

Oh my lawd—she really was gifted on the piano! 

The tutor arrived within an hour after she asked of her father, and the older woman was curious why she, a daughter of an Earl, was in need of a tutor. Eri told her that she has amnesia (a really great excuse that always got her a pass to almost everything), and the woman proceeded to teach her the basics. It started out simple, really. Her tutor complimented her on her posture and told her that maybe her body could still remember how to play. 

Eri greatly doubted her muscle memory—again, the horseback riding incident—but after minutes of familiarizing herself with the keys and the feeling of it on her hands, it was as if a demon possessed her. 

She raised her hands, radiating disbelief at what just happened. At her side, her piano tutor looked like Christmas arrived early and Santa Claus himself visited her and came rearing gifts. She just did Bohemian Rhapsody. Her. Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, one of the most, if not 'the' most, iconic songs with a piano mostly for its background.

Was this how Beethoven felt like? The man must have known that he was creating masterpieces after masterpieces.

This was dangerous.

If she let this go on, she'd share the man's fate and turn deaf by the time she's twenty-eight too. But Eri felt so powerful—her fingers were magic! She has magic hands! She couldn't just stop now!

"That was..." The tutor was speechless. Of course she was. She just heard Queen from an amnesiac (or claiming to be) talentless daughter of an Earl. 

"I know," Eri smugly replied, a wide, devilish grin plastered on her face.

(Eri wouldn't be sued for copyright infringement if she decided to continue on her piano career—but would that kill Freddie Mercury? Would Freddie still rise to stardom if Eri just so casually stole Bohemian Rhapsody from him? Was Freddie even canon in the Bridgerton series?)

(She could imagine Freddie smiling at her from the heavens, wherever he must be. There were rumors that the man liked Ice Ice Baby, which was heavily inspired by Under Pressure. It was only right to let these plebes hear the greatness of Freddie Mercury.)

(Would this cause a butterfly effect?)

(If anything, Eri was more like a cockroach really. She's very hard to kill—see how she's somehow acquired a second life?)

(And do you know that cockroaches could survive a whole week even without a head? Yeah, badass, but so fucking terrifying to see a beheaded living cockroach.)

She heaved a deep sigh and centered herself. Pressing the first few keys of Welcome to the Black Parade, it turned into an unholy screech when a familiar voice interrupted her start of musical glory. 

"I was certain that you denied knowledge on the skills of pianoforte."

Fiyero.

You know what? Eri really needs to stop thinking of the man as such because she would continue to disappoint herself if the man didn't just randomly burst out in a song and dance number of Dancing Through Life. 

Eri tilted her head curiously at the man that stepped foot on the drawing room.

Jonathan Bailey looked handsome—no he was divine, really. Eri appreciates beauty, especially if he looked like someone crafted right out of a historical romance story. And in this case, the man really was crafted right out of a historical romance story and put to life. It must have been so unfair for ordinary men of this place if someone like this man exists.

He has plot armor and beauty on his side. 

"I am amnesiac. If I have hidden skills, they will stay hidden unless I find them again," Eri replied.

The man was taken aback, likely not at all expecting her answer. If he was doing a canvass for his prospective wife, which she was surely kicked off the list with how the tea went yesterday, he should've done his research. It was evident that he didn't from his reaction. 

"I hope you found them again," the man said when it looked like he couldn't find anything to reply to what she said.

Her tutor cleared her throat. "I shall call for Mister Williams, then." 

"Please just call for Shae; my brother is a bit busy at the moment. And thank you for your lessons." 

Eri remembered that an unmarried woman and a bachelor were not allowed to stay in each other's presence without a chaperone. An archaic thinking, really, but this was Regency Era—she's starting to accept that there's traditions and customs that would baffle her. 

(It's not like she'd jump Jonathan Bailey's bones. Please, she has a taste.)

The man welcomed himself since it was clear that Eri wouldn't do so. He even invited himself to sit because Eri was just staring at him and admiring his face. 

The gays really won with this one.

"May I inquire as to the reason for your visit?" She asked, not at all bothering to sit in front of the man. The cushion in this piano chair rightly shapes her butt. "I thought after the disaster yesterday, you would find someone else to bother." 

"I beg your pardon?" She managed to offend Jonathan Bailey again. "I am not bothering you."

"You are."

"... Miss Williams, do you always converse with other people like this?" 

"Yes, you're not special."

It was funny. Truly. Eri loved just saying normal things that would scandalize everyone around her.

When the man remained stewing in his silence, Eri felt the need to break it.

"How was your wife-hunting? It must have been an unsuccessful one if you're here seeking my company." Jonathan must be bored out of his mind if he's here. That was the only reason Eri could think of for the man to visit her at this hour. They're not friends, barely acquaintances, and it was impossible for Eri to charm this man into a relationship that would make him seek her out. "There are a lot of young ladies in the ton; surely, you didn't chase them all off." 

"I did not chase them all off." Was it her phrasing and choice of words that continued to offend him? Eri didn't really mean it; she just talks like that. "And I refuse to see them any longer. Lady Delilah could barely string a sentence together, and Miss Goodrum thought that Napoleon fights for the Spanish."

Eri couldn't help but laugh, and the glare the man sent her was an icing on the cake.

Jonathan sighed but continued his tirade. "I'm looking for perfection, Miss Williams. The woman I marry shall be the Viscountess Bridgerton. The lady of my household responsible for launching my sisters and bearing my children. I desire them not to be raised by a woman who does not know how to so much as hold a map right side up."

"... Word."

What was she even supposed to say to that? He clearly knows what he wants. They're not friends to give him her validation, and she'd be a hypocrite to find faults in his rant. He's a Viscount; it's just right that he'd look for something perfect for him and his family. And he's a grownup, she didn't need to involve herself in any of his nonsense.

Now, there was something scrutinizing in the man's eyes as he looked at her. Okay... Dead air must be broken.

"That's nice and all, Lord Bridgerton," Eri commented. "That still doesn't answer as to why you're here."

The man gave up all pretenses of calm; he bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. Wow, she broke him.

"I am wondering if you are going to attend the queen's gala this evening." 

Wow. Queen Charlotte, huh? A historical figure come to life.

"Of course I would be. I'd love nothing else than to be there." 

Jonathan Bailey looked up at her and nodded his head. He stood up briskly as the door opened, and in came her attendant, Shae. She's too late. What a lousy chaperone.

"I shall see you this evening then, Miss Williams." He made a formal bow and nodded at her attendant as he swept out of the room. 

Evening came, and Shae approached her.

"Shall I prepare a gown for the gala, Miss?"

"No need, I am perfectly occupied," Eri answered amidst her playing. 

Queen Charlotte would be at the event, Jonathan said. Eri knew in her bones that the queen's attendance would be nothing but trouble. And it sounds like something Eri shouldn't intrude in. A gala, the viscount, the queen, and a collection of nobility—that looked like a nice audience for a canon event. 

She'd rather enjoy her evening being the piano virtuoso that she's planning to become. 

As the queen announced her Diamond of the Season and Miss Edwina Sharma basked humbly in the spotlight given to her—something slightly askew from what was supposed to happen transpired this night.

Everyone was clapping for the diamond; men lined up to dance with her, and at Benedict's insistence, Anthony danced with Miss Edwina. 

She was charming, earnest, kind, and a wonderful dancer. She was perfect.

Too perfect, even. 

Her sister, Miss Kate Sharma, despite her clear dislike of him, managed to somehow pique Anthony's interest. But it was just for the slightest moment. 

"She is a lovely diamond, dearest," Violet Bridgerton commented as the mother-son pair watched the two sisters walking away. 

"Indeed," Anthony agreed and didn't say anything more—his eyes unconsciously roamed around the room and looking for someone.

Someone that yet again, lied to his face without even batting an eye, and him none the wiser.

(Amidst the garden of blooming flowers and magnificent butterflies, a cockroach rested on the soil, simply existing.)

Chapter Text

"Miss, there's a letter for you." 

Eri absentmindedly hummed, her eyes focused on the passage before her. 

The first publication of Pride and Prejudice came out in London in the year 1813 as a set of three volumes under the anonymous author: A Lady. Eri never really took practice of collecting books before. She liked to read, yes, but hardback books were expensive and she had a lot of place to put that money instead of using it for her leisure. So she resulted in pirating for books online, and the FBI didn't even come barging on her door to arrest her. 

But there was something infinitely satisfying in having a first edition copy of what would be a classical piece and the basis of most modern romance literature. She has a copy of the first edition of Pride and Prejudice. Oh, how priceless this would be in the future. 

"May you just please summarize the entirety of the letter for me, Shae?" She asked her attendant. Shae was a commoner, yes, but she knew her letters well because it seemed like the original Erica taught her. She was a loyal servant of this body, and Eri learned to trust her in return. 

Eri continued reading a few more passages until her attendant spoke.

"The Viscount Bridgerton is wondering, Miss, why you did not attend the queen's gala last night," Shae said and she looked like she was about to hand her the letter but Eri shook her head no.

"When did that letter arrive?" 

"When the dawn broke, Miss." 

"He must have written that last night for us to receive that so early," she mused out loud. "Why would he even be curious about that?" Eri thought after she lied and made a no show, the man would forget about her, a canon event happened after all. He should busy himself with that.

(Was Erica Josephine Williams an important character, then? Eri sincerely doubted that. The Erica from her brother's story was a bit of a recluse, she likes her horses far too much to attend social gatherings and have the chance to interact with any of the main characters.)

(So why was the viscount kept on barging in her quiet life? Were they supposed to be best friends or something? A confidant?)

(That sounds tiring, to be honest. And troublesome.)

"May I be honest, Miss?"

Eri gave her the permission—when really, Shae didn't need one to speak her mind; Eri liked listening to her opinions.

Shae seemed to steel herself first before she spoke. "It is improper for a bachelor to send letters towards an unmarried woman." There was disapproval in her tone, but then she hesitated. "But Lord Bridgerton visited you on the calling hours yesterday." 

The attendant looked at her as if that meant something, but for the life of Eri, she was clueless as to what it was. 

"He did, didn't he?" Was all she could answer, pretending to know what the older woman was hinting at. 

Shae nodded. Eri nodded back.

(Okay... something just happened?)

"The next time he calls for you, I hope there will be flowers." 

Eri wanted to ask why the man would bring flowers. Was that common in the ton? For a gentleman to bring flowers towards a lady he's bothering? Instead of asking, she nodded. Shae nodded back. 

There was a lot of nodding happening this morning.

"Shall I pen a letter towards Lord Bridgerton telling him that you were feeling unwell last night?" Shae asked. Wasn't the woman just wonderful? She already knows Eri's aversion to writing letter and using the quill. She'd even notice that Eri's terribly fond of using the excuse of feigning sickness when she wants to get away with something.

"No need, Shae. Mama bought a new set of quills for me yesterday. It's only right for me to use it," she answered, already mentally constructing a reply she could send to Jonathan Bailey.

"Well then, Miss, I shall prepare a day dress for you." 

"Whatever for?" Eri paused in opening her new ink to look up at the older woman while the latter sent her a fond look. 

"Have you forgotten already, Miss? You and Mister Williams are going to attend the horse race this afternoon. You always loved watching the race before you had your accident." 

"Right...the horses." 

(Erica and her horses.)

It was quite a sight, Eri admitted to herself, as she watched the people of the ton mingle with each other. With their extravagant clothing and noble bearing, it was as if Eri was LARPing Regency Era style. It fascinated her that these people were real, that this was in fact real people and not just characters of a show or a book series. 

This was really her first time out in the open—disregarding her tea meeting with the viscount because she wasn't really surrounded by people, not like here in the Royal Races. 

"Are you certain you are feeling well enough for this, sister?" Elijah asked.

She grasped the man's elbow tightly. "Yes, I am. It's just... I wasn't prepared for this heat."

Oh, Eri was used to the heat. Her home country back in Asia has a temperature that would make you question if you're living in hell but this body hasn't been acquainted with the sun ever since her accident. Eri's tan looked a bit unhealthy to be honest and she should probably go out more if she didn't want to be this week against the heat. 

"I see. Can you please remain here for a moment while I procure a lemonade for you?" 

"That's a great idea. I'll stay put."

After Elijah hurriedly walked away to get her something to drink and Eri promised on staying put—her attention was immediately accosted by something. The position she was in was near the stables and a particular horse got her attention.

"Oh, wow, don't you look dashing!" She couldn't help but gush, looking at pure brown peanut-colored mustang stallion with black spot on its nose. The horse looked just like Spirit! It was honestly adorable. 

(If she'd ask her brother for this horse, would he buy it for her?)

"It seemed like Horsefly took a liking to you, Miss." 

The voice of the horse's rider interrupted Eri and her endless praises to Spirit. She paused.

"His name is Horsefly?" 

"I wasn't the one that name her, Miss, I am only his rider. But yes, it rather is a funny name." 

Poor, dashing horse to be named for a pun. 

Eri tilted her head just so, widened her eyes and smiled shyly.

(She opened her fan to get some cool air because Jesus, she was sweating buckets.)

"I would pray for your victory, good sir. Know that I would be rooting for you." 

"Ah- well..." The man blushed, not at all expecting Eri's attack. He cleared his throat as he tried to calm himself; she still could see the redness in his cheeks. "There are a lot of favored horses this season; Nectar for example! But ah... expect my victory then, Miss." 

The horse rider scurried away to tend to Horsefly while Eri stood there, her shy grin exchanged with her evil one.

It wasn't the norm for women to join the betting, they were expected to just watch the games in the stand, but you bet your ass that Eri would bet. And she just secured her win. 

(Eri knows what to look for a horse in these kinds of games; her father always brought her with him when he's gambling and even taught her tricks. She learned that particular trick when she was a bit older and the rider needed to be conditioned too, not just the horses.)

"That is... So manipulative," a voice said. 

Eri turned around and a young lady was looking at her with wide eyes, she seemed to be surprised that she spoke to Eri. 

"A lady must do what she must. I am a slave to money," she replied shamelessly.

That made the red-haired Nicola Coughlan giggle, which she immediately tried to hide.

"... You placed a bet then?" 

"I did."

Nicola Coughlan from Derry Girls remembered herself and curtsied. 

"I beg your pardon, Miss; I am Penelope Featherington." 

The name suits her, Eri thought.

"Erica Josephine Williams-"

"Oh, the one who recently woke up from being a comatose?"

(At least this one knows facts about her, unlike a certain viscount.)

Eri stared. Penelope's cheeks tinted red and her blush traveled down her blessed chest. 

"You are very beautiful, Miss Featherington," Eri declared.

If possible, the young woman's blush darkened. Eri stared harder. 

"Surely, you jest—that's..." She trailed off in an awkward laugh. 

Oh, wow. What a lovely human being. Eri wants her.

Eri was about to do something—she wasn't sure if she'd pounce or continue complimenting the woman just to get that reaction, but a person came barreling in their conversation.

"Penelope, there you are!" A dark-haired beauty said. She suddenly noticed her friend's expression and glanced curiously at Eri. She straightened and schooled her face. "My apologies, I believe we haven't met yet." 

"No, we haven't. Eri Williams," she used her shortened name to introduce herself. "And yes, I am that person who had recently woken up from her comatose, as to how Miss Featherington put it."

Penelope sputtered adorably as her friend chuckled.

"Eloise Bridgerton-" 

"Oh, Lord Bridgerton's sister?" Eri cut the woman off, now looking at her with new perspective. "You don't look grouchy enough to be related to that man." 

That clearly wasn't what Eloise was expecting for her to say because her eyes widened, as did Penelope's. A few beats passed and the dark-haired woman guffawed.

"Yes—yes, I am that grouch's sister!" Eloise claimed between laughter. 

Eri just watched her. She should probably invent stand-up comedy if someone thought her this funny. 

Opening her reticule, this era's term for handbag, she fished a piece of paper out when she remembered something.

"Would it be possible for you to give this to your brother? He sent me a letter, you see, and my attendant insisted that it would be terribly rude for me to not reply back." 

Penelope and Eloise looked at each other, the letter Eri was holding and Eri herself. Hesitantly reaching out, Eloise slowly nodded. 

"My brother would be delighted?" Eloise questioned rather than saying. She glanced at Penelope again, at the letter, then back at Eri. "So, is my brother—" 

Eri wasn't listening to what the young woman was saying because she caught a glimpse of her brother holding a cup of lemonade and searching for her.

"Yes," she answered even when she's really not sure what Eloise asked of her. "It is lovely meeting you, ladies, truly, but my brother is calling for me and I must see the man before he panics." 

Power walking towards Elijah, she left Penelope Featherington and Eloise Bridgerton, both wearing a bemused expression. 

The Royal Race ended with Eri's reticule heavier with the money from her winnings.

Ah. It's so fun to win and get money from it.

Chapter Text

Corsets, Eri found, have a bad rep. Unlike how they were depicted in modern media (unnaturally tight and form fitting and giving restriction to breathing), corsets actually provide support for the shoulders and bust and greatly reduce strain on one's back. High-quality corsets are made of soft, breathable material and quite comfortable on the skin. 

Eri had grown quite accustomed to wearing corsets and wondered why they weren't normalized in modern times. The only time Eri had seen someone wear a corset before were drag queens to cinch their waists and give themselves more feminine shapes and curves. The gays were brilliant; as always, Eri should've tried this before, and maybe she wouldn't suffer from so much back pain at an early age.

"Do we really need to attend?" Eri asked.

She could hear her brother's chuckle beyond the divider partition where Eri just got out off as Shae finished helping her change into her evening gown. 

"You look beautiful, sister," Elijah complimented, which made Eri twirl in her dress and dramatically bow. He huffed a laugh and went back to reading his book. The man was in her room to ensure that she wouldn't run off and make fake excuses so she could get away from this social event. "And yes, as sad will it make you, we do need to attend. No one would think it odd for us to reject an invitation, but if we rejected the second one, they would think us ignorant Americans continuing to commit social faux pas. And we already rejected Lady Danbury's first invitation at the first event of the season, which was quite as important as the queen's gala; we don't want her to think that the family has personal issues against her."

"Lady Danbury sounds important," Eri commented, sitting in front of her vanity and letting Shae tend to her hair. 

(She could do all of this; dress herself and fix her hair; she even insisted one time, but Shae looked so distressed that Eri had no choice and she just surrendered to the older woman. And it was quite nice to be helped like this.)

(She really was living the fantasy of a rich young lady.)

"She is. The dowager has always been in the center of most social gatherings, and in every social circle, they aspire for her favor. Mama and Papa are a good friend of hers."

"I didn't know that."

"Of course you didn't, sister. I shall reintroduce you to her. She was one of the people that constantly sent you flowers when she heard news of your accident."

"That's thoughtful of her." Despite her misgivings about this soiree, if the dowager was that kind to her family and to Erica herself, then she'd attend. 

(For Erica. It was only right to keep her relationships standing when she couldn't anymore.)

"I promise to act most amicably this evening," Eri swore.

"Now, that will be a pleasant surprise."

"Hey!"

"Is this an initiation for a cult?" Eri couldn't help but ask. At her side, which arm Eri was holding, Elijah snorted. 

"Be nice, sister. They are... trying." 

They arrived fashionably late—not because they wanted to prove their social status, but because Elijah almost had a heart attack when Eri slipped on the steps of the carriage. She had to talk her brother down to calm him and tell him that they were already dressed for the evening just for them to cancel it. 

(She didn't want to tell Elijah that she had trouble walking in her slippers because, unlike the shoes she wore for her day outing, this slipper was mostly made of pure willpower, imagination, and glitter. They were already late enough for the event; if Elijah fussed more, they'd arrive when everyone's going home.)

The scene they witnessed when they set foot on Lady Danbury's home was... something. She watched everything with confusion as gentlemen stood in front, where they proceeded to jump continuously, play with cymbals, try and fail the flute spectacularly, and perform magic. 

Now a gentleman was holding a string with a ball in the center and did... something.

"Why is no one stopping this?" Eri asked in fascination, eyes wide at this dumpster fire.

Elijah was about to say something, but it was cut off when an old woman in red took the faux stage.

"Let us take a pause." 

Oh, thank heavens!

Eri wanted to run away—these people were weird! —but Elijah pulled her in the direction of the old woman in red.

"Lady Danbury, this is a fascinating event," Elijah complimented. Fascinating was one way to put it. "May I reintroduce my sister?" 

She took that as her cue to curtsey. "Eri Williams, Lady Danbury, we are honored with your invite." 

"The last time you introduced yourself to me, you were Erica. How the time's changed," the dowager scrutinized. "You have been terribly missed by the ton, my dear; I should be the one honored for your acceptance of my invitation, perhaps?"

A wise, old woman character appeared from the wild! Eri heard the sudden voice of a commentator in her head.

Eri's back unconsciously straightened, and her customer-service smile pasted itself on herself as she gazed back at the formidable old woman. She chose to ignore her first statement; she shouldn't explain to anyone why she wanted to be called by that name; if Erica's hers now family accepted her change, then the world shall follow to do so.

"I heard from my brother of your constant support for my health. The flowers and well wishes were lovely and very thoughtful; they were much appreciated as it was what my family needed at that time," she let her voice sound as genuine as possible. She had a feeling that if she failed here, the old woman would remember. "And it has not been that long since I woke up; the family's physician advised me to limit any physical activities so as not to overexert myself. As much as the ton has missed me and I missed the ton in return, I am reduced to following the physician's advice."

Eri had spent six months being a part-timer in McDonald's, and it was enough for her to learn how to deal with all kinds of people. The Karens were harder to deal with than Lady Danbury. All she needed to do was remind the woman that her kindness was taken notice of (which shouldn't even be a thing; couldn't these people just be kind for kindness alone?) and that the family wasn't snubbing her personally; Eri was just recovering. 

Elijah seemed surprised by her taking control of the situation. And even though he knew that Eri's well enough to attend any social events she'd like to—she was cheering, like a common man, non-stop for Horsefly just yesterday and had enough of an energy to do a victory dance as the horse won—and that him and Shae were the only ones to notice Eri's continual feigning of sickness, her brother backed her up. 

"The family has been endlessly at Eri's side since she woke up; we treat it as the greatest blessing we have this year, Lady Danbury."

With Eri's customer-service smile and Elijah's pure warmth in his voice, the old woman was solely defeated. 

Lady Danbury softened, or as soft as the hard-boiled woman could be.

"I see." She gave them a tight-lipped smile. "I pray that you enjoy the party and that this evening won't hinder your recovery, Miss Williams, Mister Williams." 

That was a clear dismissal if she ever saw one, so with a curtsey and a bow, both siblings scurried. 

"Please never expose me to her again, brother!" Eri almost pleaded. The old woman was trouble; she just knew it! She looked like an important character! 

Elijah laughed and patted her hand. "But you did wonderful, sister. There's a reason why Lady Danbury has always taken a liking to you." 

Yeah, right.

She looked at her brother dubiously. Eri would rather choose to do a fainting schtick than expose herself again to that old woman. Lady Danbury was close friends with Queen Charlotte herself—no thanks. 

(I did this for you, Erica.)

"Right, then. Why don't you go and hang out with your friends, and I'll be mingling?" 

"... hang out? Eri—"

And Eri vanished. The partygoers congregated again, as if they would continue with the cult initiation, and Eri needs out. Her customer-service persona suddenly brought Vietnam war flashbacks, and her feet's killing her. 

Concentrated on power walking out of this place and intent on hiding in the carriage (Elijah would sniff her later; he's like a hound dog with 'little sister' senses), Eri almost ignored the man she passed down the stairway if the man didn't call for her. 

"Miss Williams!"

Eri stopped at the bottom of the stairs to look up at the person who called her. 

"Lord Bridgerton!"

He looked as surprised as she felt.

Oh, no. Lady Danbury really was an important character if the main man was here.

"What are you doing here?" she initiated, for this socialization to be immediately done with. 

(If Eri could survive in combat boots, she could endure Tinkerbell's slippers.)

"I could say the same to you," the man replied as he slowly ambled down to meet her at the bottom of the stairs.

"Well, I was invited," she answered with a careless shrug.

The man eyed the movement. Eri couldn't interpret what was running in the man's mind, and she was too done to even start.

"Now, that's done with; it's a pleasure to see you, Viscount Bridgerton. I'm just going to bounce—"

"Jonathan."

" —huh?"

The man was clutching some scratch paper in his hand, which he immediately discarded on the floor (this man has the audacity to litter in someone else's home) to fish a familiar piece of paper in his coat. He opened it and read the content. 

"Dear Viscount Jonathan Bridgerton, I was sick; thank you for your concern. Sincerely yours, Eri Williams." 

There was ringing silence after the man read Eri's short letter. 

"Who is Jonathan?" 

Hmm—who is Jonathan? That is the question.

At this moment, Eri would like nothing else to do but wish that she was in the comfort of her room, drinking hot coffee, as one must do, and finishing Pride and Prejudice. She has been calling the viscount Jonathan Bailey in her mind that she actually forgot his name. 

Fuck, what was his name again?! Was it too late to feign a second bout of amnesia?

"I would like to think that this letter is for me since it has my title, but I am not Jonathan. There are no records of Jonathan in the Bridgerton family tree." The man paused. "Is it presumptuous of me to think you are unaware of my name?" 

"I have a spotty memory," Eri tried to say with a straight face, but she couldn't help it. She cringed. "I kind of forgot your name." 

"That seems to be the case."

The man looked torn between disbelief, offense, and humor. There were interesting expressions flitting in his face, and she couldn't really focus on it because—

"God damn these slippers," Eri cursed out loud as she, right there and then, sat at the steps of the stairs and took her slippers off. 

"Miss Williams!" Jonathan—stop referring to him as such!—gasped.

"Oh, don't overreact. My feet's killing me! I should've chosen something not made of crystalized glitter instead of this torture device," she complained as she finally took her slippers off and wiggled her toes to give their circulation back. 

Eri sighed in relief and looked up at the viscount. He looked like a scandalized old woman, and if he had pearls, he'd probably clutch them.

"What?" she asked in confusion.

Why's he acting like this?

The man stared at her wiggling toes and her sitting down the steps before he closed his eyes. 

"Heavens help me," he murmured something to himself that Eri didn't hear. The man tilted his head to look at the ceiling. "Miss Williams, this is terribly improper. Being your acquaintance for a short time, I am certain that you are unaware of your actions, but please, I beg of you, do stand up and put your slippers back."

"So bossy," Eri huffed even as she did as he asked. She stood up but refused to put on the damn slippers made of Pixie Dust. She just dangled it in her hand. And her feet were now covered by her dress.

When the man glanced at her back, he looked like he would insist for her to put it on, but Eri raised a single challenging brow.

"There has not been a single instance where I am not baffled nor offended by your existence." 

"That's so sweet." Eri smiled sincerely. An honest comment from these noble dudes! Wasn't that refreshing?!

The man shook his head with a huff. Was that a laugh?

Grumpy Fiyero could laugh?!

(It sounds frankly adorable for a grown-ass man, what the fuck?!)

"Since you forgot my name, the rudest action someone has ever admitted to my face," the man started with a smile that he was trying to fight back. Then he bowed his head low. "Anthony Bridgerton, the 9th Viscount Bridgerton." 

Eri dramatically bowed lower instead of a curtsey. "Eri Williams, first of my name in House Williams."

(Damn it, she missed Game of Thrones. She would never recover from what they did with Daenerys! Never forgive nor forget. The North remembers.)

When she looked up, Anthony (not Jonathan) Bridgerton's lips were pursed, fighting a smile or laughter. Seriously, she should continue with that stand-up comedy plan if they thought she's a riot.

Silence blanketed the two as they continued staring at each other. He really was handsome. It's such a shame that he's grumpy all the time when anyone (not Eri though; she met Jensen Ackles before and she stood tall) would swoon if he could smile and laugh freely.

She was starting to see why her best friend was so into this character. A man in a tight pants? Okay!

Anthony remembered himself. "Oh, uhm... for the next ball of the season, my family will be hosting it in our ancestral home in Audrey Hall. For some reason, my mother has invited the Sharmas to an early visit and—I would... I would like for you to come as well."

Eri had an epiphany.

There must be a reason why Anthony Bridgerton keeps on barging in her life and bugging the fuck out of her. She wasn't just some background character.

If this story was a historical-romance genre, then the reason for the man's continued insistence to endure her presence was because Eri has an important role. 

She's the wingman!

Eri could just see it. There was a reason why the man still hasn't successfully found a wife yet, and that was because Eri herself was the one that would do that for him! She would guide the man in his romance.

She would be the bridge to a Bridgerton!

(She inwardly laughed at her own pun.)

Then after doing that (which sounds tiring, really, but she's bored enough to do the job), she could wipe her hands off of these people and be a recluse—or even start her piano virtuoso career! And it's not like Eri needs to actively participate on everything, she would still relax on her comfy home after she pointed to him the direction of his future wife!

Eri's fucking brilliant! 

"Expect that I'll be there, then." 

Now, all she has to do was find his female lead. Easy. 

Chapter Text

We all know the great lengths a young lady will go in pursuit of a proposal. And apparently, she will travel great distances too.

Lord Anthony Bridgerton appears to be inching ever so closer to selecting his viscountess, and to that end has invited our diamond to join him for an excursion at his ancestral home, Aubrey Hall. Country air indeed clears the mind and invigorates the body.

Might this be the final gust that pushes the viscount over the precipice of a proposal?

Of course, the luckless souls remaining in town will have to find new diversions in the absence of their most precious of stones. 

"Why do you even read that silly thing, Shae?" Eri asked her attendant from where she was making sage-colored ribbons to adorn the vase of the fresh set of lilacs that Shae brought this morning. "You know that you could always borrow books from my personal library if you feel like reading. I'm sure you'd like Sense and Sensibility. It's a more interesting read than what nonsense gossip Lady Whistledown wrote."

"But, Miss," the attendant closed the column down and huffed a frustrated sigh. "Lady Whistledown has always been favoring the Bridgertons ever since her first publication, and if I want to know news about them, I just have to see what the Lady has written."

Eri finished tying the ribbon on the vase, and she paused for a moment to admire it. How lovely.

"Why would you even concern yourself with the Bridgertons?" Eri loves Shae, but she thought that she's too obsessed with that family. Even if they're the main characters, it's strange for Shae to randomly bring them up to Eri and tell her facts about them like she's some NPC in Skyrim. 

When the attendant didn't say anything, Eri looked up and saw that the older woman was eyeing her as if she couldn't believe that Eri just asked that. Okay... die-hard fan. Eri wouldn't touch that with a 10-foot pole.

"No matter," Shae started. "Lady Whistledown wrote that Viscount Bridgerton has invited the Diamond of the Season to spend time at his ancestral home!" 

Eri blinked. Diamond of the Season—the fuck was that? Sounds important.

"... and?"

"And he couldn't just do something so horrible like that to you, Miss! You two are in correspondence; he visited you in calling hours, invited you for the queen's gala, and now Lady Whistledown just stated that another lady is traveling right now to his ancestral home for an excursion!"

This subject clearly was important to Shae because she's too worked up over it.

"He did tell me last night that his mother invited the Sharmas to spend time with their family," Eri casually stated with a shrug. She carried the vase filled with lilacs and placed it in the space at her window where the sun hits the spot just perfectly. "Apparently, they'll be holding the next ball of the season." 

"You talked to the viscount at your soiree last night?" Shae curiously asked.

Eri turned around after admiring the flowers again before she headed to the couch and occupied an empty one. She nodded.

"... when?" Shae inquired with a calculating look in her eyes.

"I bumped into him as I was heading to the carriage. I told you last night that my feet hurt from my slippers; that's why I took it off and walked barefoot." 

"The viscount saw you walking barefoot."

"Sure does; we were just catching up. You know, like what acquaintances do. And I couldn't hold on anymore, so I took my slippers off. The man even begged me to wear them again, but pah! Let him try wearing Cinderella's slippers and see what his feet will feel like!"

There was a pause. 

Then Shae exploded.

"What?!" The older woman jumped up from her seat and clutched the column so hard that the paper got so wrinkled. "Miss! You... Ankles—the viscount!" 

When Shae learned how to speak coherently in English again, Eri would focus on her. She took her coffee from the table and sipped. With a forkful of eclair, Eri thought that all was right in the world. 

In front of her, Shae tried to calm herself with exaggerated breathing.

Seriously, were all die-hard fans acting this way? If she ever did meet Pedro Pascal in her first life, would she be like this? Eri liked to think that she'd be more dignified, but nah—that's Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal, for fuck's sake—she'd probably cry. And not that beautiful with a single tear cry; hers would involve snot and uncontrollable hiccuping. 

Suddenly, she felt thankful that she'd never met the man and be reduced to that state.

"Did the viscount perhaps invite you to the ball, Miss?" The now calm and collected voice of Shae asked.

"Yes."

"And what were his exact words?" 

"Oh, uhm... for the next ball of the season, my family will be hosting it in our ancestral home in Audrey Hall. For some reason, my mother has invited the Sharmas to an early visit and—I would... I would like for you to come as well," Eri repeated word for word. "Something like that." It's a talent of Eri that Shae and her brother found out, and they both thought it was creepy how she could just memorize and recreate conversations she once heard or witnessed like that. 

(She's a theater kid at heart, okay? Memorizing dialogues was easy for her. Besides, she grew up in an Asian household. She couldn't relay gossip to her mother if the four W's and one H were incomplete in the details.)

"Miss, let me be frank." 

Eri gave her a very judgmental look. She had her die-hard fan moment just a few minutes ago; why's she acting so proper now? Still she nodded. 

"Did you perhaps not realize that Lord Bridgerton has invited you to an early visit and spend time in his home before the guests arrive for the ball?"

"Huh? The fuck—"

"Miss!"

"—Are you on? He just invited me to the ball, is all. Pretty sure everyone's invited, and he just did that so he wouldn't waste paper to pen me an invite when he could just tell me himself."

"Are you certain?"

Eri replayed the man's words in her head.

"Yeah," she chirped.

This was the first time that Eri has been on the receiving end of such a disappointed look from Shae.

Eri shrugged and continued eating her eclair.

Shae's so weird this morning.

Eri's sure that Anthony Bridgerton didn't mean it like that.

"Something is troubling Anthony," Daphne said, entering the drawing room and confiding with Eloise. She just finished putting Augie in a nap, and now she has time to be bothered by her brother's behavior.

Eloise, slouching on the couch and occupied with a book, snorted. "More like someone."

Daphne nodded. "Ah, yes. He seemed confused as to whom he was courting between the Sharma sisters—"

"Daphne, sister, dear old Anthony is not courting any of the Sharma sisters," Ben interjected as he entered the drawing room and heard the topic of his sisters' conversation. "There was a time that I thought he would be, since he was so intent on finding the perfect wife, and what better matches that description than the diamond herself?"

The Duchess made a confused sound. "That is odd. I was certain they were here early because Anthony intends to court one of them. He seemed to get along well with Miss Kate."

"If getting along well means Anthony wanting to tear the woman's head off," Eloise sarcastically replied, remembering the Pall-mall earlier where Anthony quit in the middle of the game and left them while he was grumbling under his breath. Anthony's too competitive to just quit in the middle of a game (especially against his siblings); someone must truly be troubling him if he did that. "I believe the woman that got Anthony to act like that isn't one of the Sharma sisters." 

As one, Daphne and Benedict turned to Eloise like a vulture smelling a corpse. Eloise knows something about Anthony that they don't, and that simply wouldn't do. 

"Dearest sister, Eloise, you know I love you the most," Benedict sweetly said, sitting next to Eloise as Daphne followed suit—trying to look as if she wasn't that interested. "Anthony locked himself in his study, but I heard him grumbling about someone not accepting his invite. I simply must know who that someone is."

"What do I get for this?" Eloise's eyes glinted. 

Benedict wiggled his eyebrow. Eloise wiggled her eyebrows back. A silent sibling communication happened, and they shook hands. Daphne knew that a deal had just been sealed. 

"Erica Josephine Williams," Eloise stated the name. "She likes to call herself Eri Williams, and yes, she's the one who recently woke up from her comatose state."

Daphne made a disapproving sound. "Eloise!"

"What? She's the one that introduced herself like that! She's funny, seriously." 

"You met her?" Benedict asked in confusion. 

"I didn't just meet her," Eloise smugly replied. It's not everyday that she has to be in Anthony's business, and it felt nice knowing things to hold over her older siblings. "She called him grouchy!" 

"No!" Benedict and Daphne gasped. 

"Yes! And Anthony sent her a letter, and she asked me to give him her letter of reply."

"Anthony has been in correspondence with an unmarried woman?" Daphne asked as if she couldn't believe it. 

"He invited her here, and she didn't come? Now, this is funny!" Benedict crowed. "Where had the charms of our Capital-R-Rake gone?"

"But when I asked her if Anthony was courting her, she said yes!"

"Oooh, she's playing with fire."

Daphne remained silent as both Benedict and Eloise burst out in childish giggling, the devils. When Anthony wrote her a letter about his plan of finding the perfect wife, she was very disappointed for her brother. Anthony was so methodical and unfeeling to this that she wanted to scold him for it. She didn't really have the time to talk to him since Anthony locked himself in his study all day and looked to be in a bad mood enough to not allow any of them to enter.

And now learning this information about her brother, Daphne smirked. 

Anthony had been too meddlesome with Daphne's love life last year... Mama should hear about this. 

Chapter Text

Regency Era has always been romanticized what with nobilities, dashing gentlemen, fancy dresses and forbidden or scandalous love. But what most forgot to tell you, was that Regency Era smells like ass—and not the good one at that.

Eri probably shouldn't judge. The sewage system in Regency Era London was relatively basic and ineffective. In the early 19th century, most homes and buildings did not have indoor plumbing and relied on cesspools to store human waste. These cesspools were often poorly maintained and prone to causing diseases. Some more affluent areas started to transition to sewer systems and septic tanks, but they were insufficient to handle the growing population of the city. As a result, there was frequent sewer and waste-related diseases, such as cholera, and a foul smell that lingered over the city.

But it's not exactly that bad compared to what Eri was expecting. Maybe because she was in a historical-romance genre series that cancelled some of the smell? 

(Eri sincerely fucking hope that she won't live to smell the Great Stink. Please, please, author of this god-forsaken series; let that not be canon!)

Eri's eyes watered, just thinking about how awful that would smell like.

"Oh, darling, we promise to make haste and go home after we finish our business in America," her mother gathered her in a hug. 

That's right, her parents were going to America. Apparently, it was family tradition for them to spend the off-season to their estate back in America, the have business there that requires her father to tend to.

(Elijah once told her that they both actually spent their childhood in America and they only migrated here in England when her father's cousin, the original Earl Williams, died from the pox that he probably got from all his travels around the globe. It was a struggle for them to adjust here in the ton, since her father was an American foreigner inheriting a noble title. But since their family was small enough, and the Earl has no heir aside from her father; there was no contest for it, and most family members remained back in the states.)

(And her mother's family back in Asia cut off contacts with her. They didn't like the fact that she married a white man, when at that time, she was in an arranged marriage with what was basically a prince.)

(It was a truly scandalous event that it took Elijah til midnight to explain it all to her.)

And because of Eri's coma, they spent the time here in England as they couldn't possibly think of leaving their unconscious daughter alone and continue with their lives just like that. 

So now that Eri had recovered enough of her health, even if it was just the start of the season, her parents decided to travel across the pond and leave all their duties to Elijah and Eri—which just consisted of socializing this season, really. 

(Elijah had a tight hold in their accounts so that Eri didn't need to worry her carefree little head about anything.)

Hugging the woman back, Eri didn't have the heart to tell her that she was teary-eyed from the hypothetical and most possible smell of the Great Stink, so she just hugged her back. "Be careful out there."

"Worry not, dear, I will take care of your mother."

She looked at her father and saw that both him and Elijah were giving her a pair of fond looks.

"Take care of yourself too, papa. It will be a long sea travel."

When she heard that her parents would be off to the Americas (or like what these Brits refer to the country, if they didn't call it the colonies, seriously people, move on!) Eri wanted to come with. She wanted to go to the Caribbeans and swim in a proper beach, enjoy the sun that would melt her, and drink some coconut juice like a damn tourist on a vacation. She used to live on an island, and Eri grew up with the sun on her skin and salt on her hair. She was a fucking great swimmer too.

But just thinking about spending weeks on a damn rocking boat was enough to make her feel nauseated. 

Before, Eri had an extreme case of motion sickness. There were constant scopolamine patches behind her ears prescribed by the doctors for her to survive her day-to-day commute. Do you know how hard it was to be so motion sick that she vomited after riding a fucking carousel? She had never tried rollercoasters before, and she'd always been booed by her friends for going on a ride with them. She was just there on the ground, enjoying her hotdog sandwiches while the fools hollered and screamed their lungs out. 

Eri would probably die on that boat because she was hit by her motion sickness, with the combo of her clumsiness: slip on the deck, go overboard, and be seen as a snack by a hungry shark. 

(Although Eri always thought that sharks were adorable and they just have a bad rep because of Jaws. Statistically, death rates from premeditated murder were higher than those of shark-related fatalities.)

(Suddenly, the thought of slipping and dying repeated on Eri's head.)

(She felt so terrified of it.)

"What do you want as a souvenir, dear?" 

"A gun."

(Eri shook her head to dispel that thought.)

Her three family members stared at her, weighing the seriousness of her request. Oh, Eri was damn serious. She imagined a scenario where some serial killer roaming around London saw her and thought, 'Oh, look here, an airhead-looking rich young lady' and wanted to harvest her kidney for a meat pie or something. And it's not like it's illegal to carry a gun with her—almost anything was legal at this time. It's just for her safety; she wasn't some trigger-happy dueler that would randomly challenge gentlemen left and right. 

(And if it was easy to obtain a gun in America from her original time, how easy would it be to buy one now?)

(In all seriousness, Eri detests gun violence. Don't do it, kids.)

"Alright." Her mother gave her a tight-lipped smile. 

"We shall find one decorated with gems of your favorite color," her father added.

They were the best second parents ever.

"Don't die," she told them sincerely.

Used to her blunt words, her parents laughed. With one last parting of affectionate hugs and kisses, her parents boarded their ship. 

The pair of siblings watched the boat for a moment.

"Shall we go to the market place and buy you a new pair of slippers?" Elijah asked as they stood there at the port. So he was still worried about that night, huh? 

"Nah, I want to go home and take a warm bath. I don't feel so bonita." 

The countryside during the Regency Era was a marvel.

Much of the land was used for farming, with fields of wheat and barley stretching for miles. Villages were often situated along rivers and were home to farmers and their families.

The air was crisp and fresh, with a gentle breeze. The temperature was slightly cooler than in the city, and one would find themselves reveling in the clean air. The sky was a clear blue, and the sunlight is gentle, bathing the countryside in a soft, golden light. The air is filled with the scents and sounds of nature, the rustle of the leaves, and the faint call of birds in the distance.

In the distance, the looming silhouette of a manor house might be seen, standing as a testament to the wealth and privilege of its family. The landscape was punctuated by hedgerows and ancient woodlands; oaks, elms, and beeches growing on the boundaries of the estates.

But Eri couldn't appreciate a single shit as she had half her body slumped out of the open window of their carriage.

"I'm going to die..." 

"Eri, that is dangerous; don't do that," Elijah chided as he tried to pull his little sister back inside the carriage.

"Can't... just leave me to my fate," she moaned and immediately covered her mouth when she felt like hurling.

Elijah rubbed her back to give her some comfort, and Eri truly appreciated her brother at that moment, but she couldn't say a thing; if she did, her breakfast would be all over the place. 

"Just endure for a few minutes more; Aubrey Hall is already in sight." 

Eri wasn't really aware of what's happening in her surroundings anymore; her only goal was to survive this day without hurling her stomach out. 

She could survive carriage rides, but if it's three hours of being stuck inside the continuous rocking and bumping against the road, honey, that's a very different problem all together. And here she was thinking that this body didn't have motion sickness, only for the universe to spit in her face and laugh as the forces watched her suffer. It's awful. How could she survive this place without her patches and antihistamine tablets?

The feeling of standing on top of solid ground was a true blessing. Eri clutched Elijah's arm as they walked amidst the crowd of nobles that had just arrived too. 

"Can you find me someplace to lie down, brother?"

"Of course, Eri. Let us just greet our host hastily."

Eri nodded—which was a very wrong move! She tried to blink the dark spots forming in her vision. My god, this was so much worse than the carousel ride! 

"Lady Bridgerton, Duchess Bassett, my sister and I are honored to receive your invite and what a beautiful home you have." The smooth sound of Elijah's voice distracted Eri from her thoughts. 

When she focused back on the normal world, a pair of women that looked like mother-daughter (but Eri didn't want to assume) were smiling at the siblings, but their eyes were staring holes in Eri's face as if she were some interesting specimen in a lab. 

Who?

In her confused thoughts, Eri tapped her brother's arm, and he took that as his signal. 

Minutes later, Shae took off her day dress as she plastered her face on a cold, soft pillow.

Oblivion.

The sound of something terribly familiar filling the room woke her up. It felt like cotton filled her mouth, and there was a sledgehammer banging in her head. With great hesitation, she stood up from her bed.

"Hello?" She tried calling for someone—anyone.

When no one answered, she shuffled away from her bed and stared outside the window and watched as the night sky cried.

Transfixed, she walked out of her room, following the sound of the pitter-pattering of the rain as she walked the empty halls of the manor. The sound of the rain got louder, and the thunderstorm drowned it out as she stepped foot out of the shelter of the manor and welcomed the rain kissing her skin.

She remembered it now—how she died.

It wasn't important; she tried to convince herself. She has a new life now. She has family here.

Her death wasn't important. It wasn't.

But she still remembered how she died.

It was a night, just like this one; only the wind was stronger, the rain harsher, and the thunder merciless. The night sky was at war with itself, and they were reduced to nothing but hushed prayers. She was visiting her parents when the storm hit. It was unforgiving of their small island, and being the eldest of her siblings, she has always instilled this sense of responsibility in herself.

That's why, through the protests of her parents, she went out and tried to salvage her father's boat.

"It is not important," her father insisted.

"It is not important," her mother repeated.

But it was. It was. That boat was her father's livelihood. How could they survive after it got damage from the storm? She just got kicked out to the police academy and she wouldn't be able to help them financially when she's barely standing herself.

She remembered running in the docks; she spotted her father's boat and ran towards it. She could still salvage it. She could still hold the damage off if she could pull it to the sand.

She ran harder and slipped.

"Miss Williams!" A voice roared.

She stopped staring at the crying night sky to look at the angry figure looming over her.

"Your brother has been looking for you when you suddenly disappeared from your room! Are you aware of the ruckus you have caused from—" the man (who was he?) stopped and saw the devastation on her face. "—you are crying."

"I remembered that I died on a night just like this," she whispered a confession.

She prayed that her father didn't blame himself for something that her stubbornness had caused.

She prayed that her mother would never look at the sky, cursing it for taking her daughter away from her.

She had a lot of dreams back then. She was her father's image, her mother's treasure. She had a life that got stolen from her because she lost herself in her head.

"... what are you—"

"Lord Bridgerton, have you seen my sister—"

All of a sudden, someone grabbed her shoulders and she found herself looking up at someone she knew she loves, the man's eyes reflecting the anguish she felt. Of course, the man knew something was wrong with his sister.

Someone else seemed to possess her.

But he never cared.

"You are not dreaming," he repeated words he used as a mantra whenever she got lost inside, when she used to question if all of this was real. "And you are not in a nightmare, Eri." The cherished words and the familiar-sounding name made her shudder. She heaved a deep breath—a woman founding salvation from her drowning.

She was Eri again.

"Of course, I'm not. I'm not."

Lightning streaked across the dark sky, and the rain poured harder. A warm coat placed tenderly on her shoulders.

"... Let's get you inside." 

Chapter Text

That morning, everyone's mother-henning dialed up a notch. 

Shae, her dutiful attendant, was flitting around the room, throwing gowns and dresses she might wear, polishing slippers and boots that had already been polished, and she even tried to fix the bed, which was already fixed. Elijah, on the other hand, was pacing around the room, talking about random books he read before and trying to engage her in a conversation, and he kept on asking if she wanted or needed to buy something. 

"Miss, this is a wonderful shade for your skin—"

"You have never enjoyed Lord Byron, but might I offer you a collection of poems I have seen at the bookshop in London—"

"Can you two just fucking—"

"Miss!"

"Eri!"

"—take a breather and tell me what's going on?!"

They stopped at her outrage and both turned to look at her. Eri was enjoying her morning snack before they burst in her room and did this. She didn't even know why they were acting like this but seriously, Eri's starting to get used to the fact that once or twice a month, they would be like this. 

It was so much worse back in the manor. The whole staff would be in an uproar trying to placate her or something, and her parents would go on a shopping spree and drown Eri with boxes of their gifts. 

She's a bit grateful that she only needs to deal with Elijah and Shae at the moment.

When they didn't answer and just stared at her with sad, sad eyes, Eri took things into her own hands.

"You go sleep. I don't like the darkness under your eyes," she pointed her finger at Shae. 

"But, Miss—"

"No, sleep! I order you to sleep! I am already dressed for the day and my bed's fixed. You have nothing more to do and I don't need anymore of your assistance, so you are free to lie down on your own bed and sleep."

She then turned her finger at Elijah, who huffed.

"And you, go out and play with your friends." 

"Eri! I couldn't possibly—"

"Of course you can, and I told you to do so!" Eri glared at her brother. "You're right, I don't like Lord Byron, and I don't need any more poem collections in my library. I don't want or need anything. So calm your tits—"

"Eri!"

"Miss!"

"—because I am perfectly fine and this is a nice day we're having. Enjoy the sun out, brother, because you look like you need it. I don't need the two of you hovering over me like I'm going to collapse any moment now. I can't enjoy my morning snack, for Pete's sake! I repeat, I am perfectly fine! So, get out!"

At the end of her tirade, Eri found herself standing from her seat, her chest heaving, and her voice louder than she meant it to be. 

They were in a stalemate as three occupants of the room stared at each other. In the end, Eri came up the victor.

"Yes, Miss."

"Of course, sister." 

The two walked out of her room, and they kept shooting pleading eyes at her, but she remained steadfast. She shook her head, and defeated, they closed the door. 

Yesterday, she was just motion sick from the travel and blacked out because of that. Why were they so worried when it's nothing but a long sleep could cure?

Eri sighed out loud and slumped on the plush chair. She took a deep breath to steady herself. With a look around the room, she sniffed. 

Shae forgot to bring her lilacs.

Different faces greeted her when she first stepped out of the room as Eri realized that she wasn't in her home. 

Oh. Oh, that's right, they were in the Bridgerton's ancestral home in the countryside, and Elijah and Shae had the audacity to make a ruckus in someone else's home. Tsk, those two. 

Sneaking out of a manor filled with people was an easy thing to do because the house staff were busy preparing for the ball while the guests were mingling with each other. She heard the women talking about spending the day in the sun to play some games (what kind?) and the men would be out for a hunt. Eri hoped that his brother would join the hunt to clear his head. 

Eri successfully managed to find herself in Bridgerton's garden. A silk scarf covered the lower half of her face, and she was clutching a small garden shears on her hand—how she managed to acquire one? That would remain a mystery. 

She traversed the garden, ignoring the beautiful flower patches and tall hedges on her way, as the only thing her eyes were looking for were lilacs. It seemed like the Bridgerton didn't plan lilacs on their garden because she now found herself out of the garden maze—oh, wow. 

The field of lilacs was a riot of deep purple and pink hues, their delicate forms bending in the breeze. The flowers were arranged in a loose pattern, creating a beautiful and natural tableau. Despite the silk scarf on her nose, she could smell that the air was filled with the sweet, floral scent of the lilacs. The sun casts golden rays over the field, bringing out the rich, velvety coloration of the flowers. As she paused to admire the scene, she felt a gentle sense of peace and contentment wash over her.

Squatting down near a patch, Eri started cutting some stems of lilacs. She's sure that the Bridgertons wouldn't mind getting a few, right? 

Ever since Eri had been cast into this world, to feel a sense of normalcy, she developed a routine for herself. Every morning, Eri needed to eat eclairs and drink coffee as part of her morning snack, and a fresh set of lilacs must be prepared on her table so she may arrange it. It was these simple things that made her feel in control of herself—grounded.

"Miss?"

A voice made Eri look up. A black-haired older woman was eyeing her curiously. She looked familiar, Eri thought. And kind. And—

"—beautiful."

Ah, her brain-to-mouth filter's suspiciously absent today. 

When in the face of the consequence of one's action, the right thing to do was stand on one's ground.

"You look beautiful," Eri clarified.

"Oh," the woman gasped, unprepared for Eri's genuine words. She smiled at the younger woman, and manners seemed to pull her back. "I am Violet Bridgerton, Miss...?" 

"Anthony's mother!" Eri sprung up in disbelief. She stared at the woman from a new perspective. How could someone so kind-looking produce an offspring that looked like the Grinch's second cousin?! 

"Anthony?" The woman muttered something under her breath that Eri totally ignored. 

"I am Eri Williams, and you don't mind that I got some flowers from your lilac fields, do you?" She asked as she took off the scarf covering her face and showed Lady Bridgerton the wild lilacs clutched in her dirt-riddled hands. "I have always been allergic, rather sensitive to pollens, you see. And I am irritated by that fact and toon it as a personal challenge; it was a week of sneezing that I found out that there's no reaction to lilacs unlike other pollinated flowers. So, lilacs are safe."

Eri was full on grinning now as she excitedly rambled at the older woman. It was one of her first memories waking up in this historical-romance world. She and Elijah, although worried, spent a week just shuffling through different flowers and Eri sniffing them and sneezing right after. It was a simple memory, but a very dear one. 

When Eri was met with silence, she tilted her head curiously, and she answered with fondness. 

(Eri liked her, she decided. She didn't feel the automatic dislike for socialization whenever she's talking with other people.)

"Lilacs are safe," she repeated with a smile. "They are a favorite of my husband, as well as hyacinths." 

"Hyacinths are safe too, but I prefer lilacs still. He and I have that in common then. He must have an impeccable taste," Eri replied with a cheeky grin. 

"He did."

Oh.

A pause.

"What was he like?" 

Lady Bridgerton clearly wasn't expecting Eri to ask that.

"He was patient and so courageous," the woman recounted. "A kind father and a kinder husband, Edmund would give the world for his family."

Unconditional love was often considered a selfless and deeply rewarding form of love, as it was not dependent on external factors or conditions. It was a love that was given freely, without expectation or attachment, and was often described as all-accepting, without judgement or conditions. But Eri thought that unconditional love meant being remembered.

A field of lilac flowers.

She loosened the sage ribbon on her hair and tied it around the flowers she was holding. She tried to make it as presentable as possible and offered it to the older woman.

"He is so lucky to still be remembered, Lady Bridgerton."

A shaky laugh, and Violet Bridgerton held a memory of her husband.

"Thank you, Miss Williams." 

"It was nothing."

Chapter Text

The ballroom of Audrey Hall was a sight to behold, bedecked with garlands of colorful ribbons and fresh flowers. Candles flickered in wrought iron chandeliers, casting pools of golden light across the room. White linens covered the long refreshment tables along the sides, and a band of musicians played a soft, lilting tune near the back of the room. Ladies were dressed in their finest silks and jewels, and gentlemen were attired in their most dashing waistcoats and cravats. 

And Eri? Eri wore her best devious grin. 

She tried to tamp it down to hide it, but it just kept plastering on her lips, and Elijah was shooting her constant worried looks. 

"Sister, should I expect to pay for reparations?" 

"Whatever for?"

Elijah, her favorite person in the world, raised a single eyebrow. 

"Oh, shush," Eri adapted a haughty voice. "I am in my best behavior."

"That is making me terribly worried."

"I promise that I won't burn Bridgerton's ancestral home."

He sighed. "Perhaps that is the best I could get with your iron will."

"Oh, I just love you so, brother."

"And I you, sister."

Elijah gave him a gentle pat on the head before she turned around and walked with a plan in mind, ignoring everything she passed by.

It was the perfect time for a canon event, and Eri would be the force that would make it happen. She will do her first matchmaking mission as the bestest wingman ever. And her target in mind?

One Penelope Featherington.

It was brilliant. It was genius! It was—honestly though, Penelope Featherington was the only unmarried young lady Eri had the chance of meeting. She told Shae to make her a list of young ladies that would suit her plan, and the only name she was familiar with there was Penelope's. 

Eri's plan was simple enough: assess the target based on Anthony Bridgerton's idea of a perfect wife. Seriously, Anthony must have been constantly failing because he's a man. There were certain nuances that only women could understand, especially when it comes to other women. She'd talk with the woman (not interrogate, Jesus that Anthony) and weigh if she could be compatible with Eri's man.

(Ugh, that sounds weird. Eri's wing? Eri's wingman-ee, that's not even a word, whatever he was to Eri's wingman duties.)

"Miss Williams, Lord Fife. May I—"

"Yes, you may get out of my way." Sidestepping the man that blocked her, Eri ignored his shocked reaction.

That segment continued, men approaching Eri and asking for something (what the fuck do they even want with her?) and her completely ignoring them in return. She has an important task to do, and she would not be distracted by these men and their constant introductions. Honestly, Eri couldn't remember any names of these local dudes.

A familiar head of curly-red was just standing there on the wall next to a flower vase. She admired Nicola Coughlan for a few seconds before she glomped.

"Miss Penelope! How delectable you look this evening." Eri all but maneuvered the young woman to put some distance with the flower decorations. If men couldn't stop her, she wouldn't let her allergies, too.

Penelope sputtered and choked; yes, she was drinking lemonade a few seconds ago, and Eri let her go to give the woman a space to breathe.

"Miss Williams..." she uttered like a woman close to her death bed. Clearing her throat and cheeks blushing red, she asked, "... delectable?"

Right. This era and their sensibilities.

"Yes," Eri was completely unrepentant. "Like a fresh cherry with morning dew dripping slowly down the fruit. Delicious, mon cheri."

Eri got the reaction she wanted from her play of words, and she internally squealed. How adorable! Eri wanted to bottle her up and keep Penelope in her pocket!

"Miss Williams, it is inappropriate to make such statements," she squeaked.

"Nonsense, I am just telling the truth."

Her blush deepened, and Eri wanted to push further; sadly, she was here for something else.

"Right," she gave the young woman a genial smile. "Is it alright if I keep you company, Miss Penelope?"

"I am not the best person to converse with."

Oh, she's shy, then.

"You're the only person I know in this event. Surely, you wouldn't deprive me of your company?"

She widened her eyes and pouted her lips sadly. Penelope stared at her with pursed lips.

"I know what you are doing, Miss Williams, and it is working."

Eri pouted sadder.

"Oh, alright then."

"It works on everyone."

"Clearly."

Eri laughed. There's so much sass hidden inside this delightful package, then.

"I can't help but notice, Miss Penelope," she addressed her casually, "that you seem to be in your lonesome this evening. Why, aren't you interested in bagging yourself a man tonight?"

Penelope Featherington translated her words. "Have you seen me, Miss Williams? I am not..."

"You are not what?"

"I do not compare to other young women present. Gentlemen see me as unattractive, and I agree."

That statement made Eri blink.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Miss Williams!"

"Have you seen yourself? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? What is this fuckery?!" 

"Miss Williams, calm yourself—"

But Eri wasn't listening; she was incensed. If this woman wasn't considered beautiful, then who the fuck is?! What kind of nonsense were they feeding the people here that Nicola Coughlan, her darling Nicola Coughlan, wasn't attractive?

Her brain hurts because math wasn't math-ing!

All of a sudden, Eri's plan to interview this young woman as Anthony Bridgerton's future wife was thrown out of the window. Penelope wouldn't survive Anthony if her self-esteem was this wack!

With a deep breath, Eri steeled herself. The young woman worrying over her stopped in her tracks as she was the receiving end of Eri's intensity. 

"Miss Penelope, the destruction of Troy was caused by Paris choosing the goddess Aphrodite, seduced by Helen and her famed beauty. So, why must you listen to men and their opinion of you?"

She wanted to say more. To convince this idiot of a woman that her thinking would be her downfall, but she couldn't exactly fault her if she grew up listening to others say such things about her. She could bombard her with praise and compliments, but that wouldn't work if Penelope herself thought differently.

"I may sound playful earlier, but you truly do look delightful tonight."

Penelope Featherington looked lost and uncertain at Eri's words, but she didn't take it back when she truly meant it.

"Someday, I hope you'll see what I mean."

Feeling done for the night, Eri tilted her head in lieu of a farewell and left the young woman. Eri wanted to just lock herself in her room and enjoy a warm cup of coffee.

Her mission failed tonight. Eri refuses to let Penelope Featherington be Anthony's female lead if she's not kind to herself.

And that's the problem with this world, wasn't it?

Nobles couldn't be kind to each other without asking for something in return or waiting for recognition, and they couldn't even be kind to themselves for fuck's sake. 

Lost in her thought, a gloved hand on her shoulder made her trip on the flat floor. Thankfully, a pair of hands caught her waist and steadied her. Eri twisted around and found herself a breath's away from Anthony Bridgerton's face. 

He looked extra handsome today, Eri noticed. For a moment, Eri placed herself in the author's shoes and thought of how she could write the man. Anthony Bridgerton had a sharp, well-defined jawline, high cheekbones, and a broad forehead. His eyes were a rich, deep brown and framed by dark lashes, giving him a look of intensity and intelligence. His nose was straight and well-shaped, complemented by full lips. His facial features combined to create a captivating, masculine allure.

The gays really won with Jonathan Bailey.

The man's hands tightened their hold on her and snapped Eri back to reality.

"So, are we cuddling?" 

Anthony let her go, as if burned, and Eri laughed at his reaction.

"Hi, I wasn't expecting to see you here." She liked the man's mother, so she'd try to be cordial to him for a bit.

"This is my home, Miss Williams," he answered, deep eyes boring in her.

"I know; but I heard from the ladies earlier that you haven't been seen for the whole day and that you were locking yourself in your study as if you were avoiding someone," Eri relayed the gossip she heard while looking for Penelope earlier.

"Ah, is that so?" the man answered after clearing his throat. "Miss Williams, permit me when I found myself concerned; are you feeling well?"

Curiously, Eri tilted. "Of course. Why do you—is this about yesterday? You all worry too much; I'm just motion sick, is all."

That was not the answer he was expecting based on the furrowing of his eyebrows, but he didn't probe. 

They remained standing in the darkened hallway, a foot apart, and just staring at each other. 

"Okay, good bye then—" 

"May I ask you to dance?" 

Eri paused, taken aback. Now, she's the one not expecting that.

She wanted to reject the man, but this was the first time Eri saw him looking this earnest. Besides, he asked how her health was earlier. His being not rude towards her was a bonus point.

"Okay."

He was looking at her hand, specifically at the small card Shae tied in her hand earlier, but Eri didn't know what it was for, so she thought of the next best thing. She took Anthony's right hand and placed her left hand on his shoulder. The man blinked.

"... What?"

"You asked for a dance. Or do you want me to burst out my Thriller moves?"

"Yes, I did ask for a dance, but right now? Here?"

"If you want to schedule a dance, then you should've asked for my attendant Shae to assign you one. And what's wrong here? We can still hear the music from the ballroom, and we have a lot of space to move." And after they dance, Eri could just run a few steps towards her room. Wasn't she brilliant? 

Anthony placed his hand in the small of her back as the music began, slow and smooth, and they took their first step. The man leads with gentle yet confident guidance, his feet gliding effortlessly across the floor, while the woman follows with a soft, fluid grace. They move in unison, the sweeping movements of the waltz capturing their connection, their bodies swaying together in perfect harmony.

As they turn, Eri's dress billows behind her, catching the light with every spin, while the man's steady gaze never leaves her eyes.

The music rises, guiding them through the dance, as if the very rhythm of the song breathes life into their steps. As the music fell, they stood holding each other. And for that moment, they were lost in their own bubble. But Eri remembered herself. 

"Are we going to kiss or what?" She asked, a teasing smirk pulled in her lips.

Anthony, familiar with her bullheadedness, let her go and took a few steps, distancing himself.

"Miss Williams, why is it that you speak so scandalously?" 

"Anthony," she offhandedly patted his shoulder. "I'm your wingman. You'd be exposed to me being me, so you better prepare yourself, and that's a warning because I'm a threat."

She knew that he had a fuckton of questions because the man looked downright confused, but Eri didn't want to explain.

"You're not a bad dancer; you just need to sing, and you see, I'll make a Fiyero out of you. Have a great night, Anthony!" 

Then Eri scrammed.

This was a nice night, she thought. She learned that this body has muscle memory for dancing, and that's nice; these people would probably think her an idiot. Someone asked her for a dance, and she did the Macarena.

Her mission was a failure, and she didn't manage to force a canon event, but Eri liked this night.

(She made sure to tell Shae to send a full body mirror to the Featherington estate.)

"I saw that," Daphne said, appearing next to Anthony.

"Nothing happened," Anthony replied while his eyes were still focused on the path Eri vanished on. His hand closes at his side, a vain attempt to preserve her warmth.

"Something did."

He glanced at his sister and saw her knowing look. "I am uncertain as to what you're referring to."

"The facade of denial does not suit you." 

Chapter Text

When Eri got back to London, she locked herself in her room. The only thing that could lure her away from her room was spending an hour or two in the drawing room to hone her piano skills (Beethoven beware), and Elijah, dearest and darlingest Elijah, took matters into his own hands. 

"Why?" she asked, a woman suffering at the cruel machinations of men.

"For the past week, you have been occupying your room or the drawing room playing the piano like a woman possessed. I am concerned and rightfully so."

Eri groaned out loud and thumped her head on Elijah's shoulder.

"Besides, you really need a pair of slippers."

If Elijah wasn't so sweet with his concern, Eri wouldn't give in to this in the first place. And of course, even if he could see where he's getting at, she'd still complain for the sake of it.

"I have a lot of slippers that I don't even know where I would use."

"You need one that that is not; what did you call it again? Ah, yes—made of pure will and glitters."

Eri eyed the boxes next to Elijah and thought that it was still a bit too much.

"Fine, fine. Why are we in the modiste, then?" she asked.

"Just let me spoil you, Eri."

She huffed, secretly pleased. She relented to his whims. He sat in the waiting room of the modiste while the assistant dressmaker whisked her away to fit her and ask for her choice of clothes and textiles.

It was one of Elijah's ways to continuously spoil her whenever he's worried about her. The man would randomly buy her different gifts that he thought she would like (she loved all of them) and always used the excuse of visiting the marketplace just to get Eri out of her room and the manor. He must be terribly worried this week about Eri's behavior, but she couldn't help herself. If she had the option of just staying at home and enjoying her own company, then she would do it. Elijah supported her tendencies to keep herself busy by doing random tasks, but sometimes he felt like she needed to see people outside of their immediate family, Shae and the family staff.

There were different fabrics Eri already picked for new dresses that her seamstress gathered when a fabric caught her eye.

"Is this cashmere?" She asked, eyeing the single fabric and not at all daring to touch it; it seemed a disrespect without the dressmaker's permission.

"Yes, Miss Williams. Madame Delacroix imported it from East Asia just last week."

Hearing that, Eri ached with want. She remembered her mother, her original, giving her one as a gift when she graduated college. It was a family heirloom that their great-great grandmother had when she immigrated from Mongolia.

"Is it possible for me to get this as a scarf?" 

"I shall inquire with Madame about your request."

"Thank you." Eri smiled as the woman pulled the cloth away from the display and handed it to her to let her feel it.

The fabric was soft in Eri's hands, and she was staring at it with nostalgia. It was the same exact shade of powder blue as her scarf, too.

"The color suits you, Miss."

She looked up at the intrusion and raised an eyebrow when it wasn't the modiste herself.

"I know," she answered. "But should you really tell a lady what or what doesn't suit her?" 

Shae once told her that thing was considered rude if a gentleman told her that. Especially in colors. Apparently, colors have such importance in nobilities that Eri didn't ask any further because she thought owning a color was ridiculous.

(Unless you're Prince. That man owned purple and he slayed, embodied and ate the color.)

"Forgive me for my forwardness, Miss," the gentleman immediately said as he bowed. "I did not intend to convey a hidden message with my comment."

"Why did you say it then?"

"I am an artist, and I couldn't help but notice if something is pleasing to the eyes," he gave an easy smile.

"Is that your noble speak for 'you are pretty in blue'?"

The man laughed at her question. The idea of doing a stand-up comedy popped into her head again. She would consider it.

"Not just in blue. You are beautiful in a lot of colors; but mainly blue."

Eri rolled her eyes. She'd rather prefer green; thank you very much. She thought that he was lying when he told her that he's an artist, but she caught a glimpse of a sketchpad tucked in his side.

"Are you any good?" she asked.

The man hesitated. "That is subjective."

"Art has always been subjective," she agreed. Eri, being Eri, declared, "Let me see it then."

As if a frightened animal, the man took a step back and clutched his sketchpad tighter. So dramatic.

"I'd rather not. I do not let others see my drawings. Especially when it's unfinished." 

Eri placed a hand in her hip and stared him down. "Are you an idiot?" 

"Miss!"

"Because how can you know if it's good or not if you don't let others see it and hear their interpretation of your work? Art is the uniting of the subjective with the objective."

She's totally quoting Leo Tolstoy to get what she wanted.

"Besides, it'll be your payment for calling me pretty without my permission."

A smile that crinkled his eyes pulled the man's lips. "Huh. You make a compelling argument. But do not laugh if it's terrible."

He hesitantly reached out to hand her his sketchbook, and Eri excitedly opened it.

The sketchpad was a small, leather-bound folio filled with several sheets of fine-textured paper. The sketches on the pages were a mix of rough, hurried scribbles as well as more refined drawings with careful outlines and shading. Some of the sketches depicted everyday scenes, such as a family in a drawing room or children playing in a garden, while others contained more fanciful sketches of real women and dreamlike landscapes. The pages were slightly rumpled from frequent handling, and the tips of some of the charcoal pencils were broken from constant use.

Eri wasn't an artist. She could hold a pencil all day, and the results of her drawing would be terrible. Her arts professor once told her that it was such a shame that she has such poor skills when she has the imagination to back her up. So, the professor steered her in theater, where she rightfully flourished.

"I like it," she simply commented as she closed the sketchpad and handed it back to its owner.

"That's all?"

"Do you want me to use fancy words and sound pretentious because I could do that?"

He blinked at her before he laughed out loud. And that was the modiste's cue to enter.

"Benedict, why are you still—" she noticed Eri and immediately changed tune. "Miss Williams! I gather you like the fabric?"

Okay. Why did she change accents just then?

Eri wanted to ask but thought better of it. It's none of her business if this British woman wanted to sound French all of a sudden.

"Yes, can you turn it into a scarf? I want no patterns. Just a plain scarf."

"I will do my best," the woman said, getting the fabric from Eri's hands.

When there was nothing left to say, the three stood in silence like an idiot tableau. Awkward silence.

"Right, thank you for your service...?" Eri didn't have an idea what to say because Madame Delacroix and the man (Benedict?) were eye-fucking each other. "See you when I see you." 

Eri made a hasty retreat because whatever's happening with the two of them wasn't any of her problem. She reached her brother, who was having tea in the lounge.

"Miss Williams—" why do these people keep on bothering her?! "I just wanted to say—oh, Mister Williams, good morning." 

"Good morning to you, too. It seemed like you and my sister are already acquainted, Mister Bridgerton."

Eri whirled around to scrutinize the man. Mister Bridgerton? This man's Anthony's brother?

She eyed his familiar features; the man in return was suddenly nervous at her scrutiny, and he tried and failed to give her a charming smile.

"I could see it," she commented.

"See what?" Elijah asked.

"That he's a Bridgerton." 

"Ah." Elijah turned to Benedict Bridgerton, and the latter was left to the siblings' searching gaze. "I see."

"I'm right, yes?" 

"Always."

Benedict Bridgerton fidgeted.

"Ah! Brother, where was that jewelry I bought earlier?"

Elijah looked at the boxes next to him and searched them. When he saw the one Eri was referring to, he dutifully handed it to her. She opened it and saw a bracelet embedded with kunzite stones. It was a rare gemstone and costed a lot of money but the color reminded her of Audrey Hall's lilac fields and Lady Bridgerton's love.

"Give this to your mother and send her my regards, yes?" Eri ordered as she shoved the box into Benedict's hand.

He looked down at the box he's now holding. "Whatever for?"

"I was reminded of her when I saw that jewelry."

"You and my mother know each other?"

"Your brother invited me to your family's ball. I liked her company."

Benedict didn't know what to reply to her statement, so he just smiled.

At least this one's not grumpy, Eri thought.

"Anyways, what were you saying earlier when you called for me?"

"I just... I just wanted to say my farewell," he finished lamely.

Okay...?

"Good bye," Eri said with no hesitation.

The man knows dismissal when given one.

The pair of siblings eyed Benedict as he made his retreat. They then stared at each other.

"Are all the Bridgerton siblings that weird?"

"I haven't had the chance to meet all of them, but based on whom I met, then yes."

Anthony, Benedict, and Eloise all made her consider a career in stand-up comedy; that's three for three Bridgerton finding her a hoot.

"Lady Bridgerton's lovely though," Eri declared.

"She is," Elijah agreed.

A pause.

"Want to buy eclairs from your favorite bake shop?"

"Yes, please."

The Bridgerton family, sans Anthony, was at their drawing room when Benedict arrived from his outing. No one even bothered to greet him (seriously, rudely) aside from his mother. 

"Ben, how was your morning?" His mother inquired.

Benedict took a seat next to her.

"I have a surprising encounter," he replied, not really knowing what words he should use about that encounter. "And Miss Williams sent you this gift and her regards."

Everyone suddenly turned in their direction, like hounds sniffing prey, as they heard the name that came out of Benedict's lips.

"You encountered Miss Williams?" Eloise asked, her book completely forgotten at the prospect of new gossip about the woman.

"I wasn't expecting her to be so... her," Benedict frowned. 

That made Eloise cackle; she seemed to admire the woman and her ability to surprise everyone.

"Who's Miss Williams?" Collins asked.

"Our new sister, keep up, Collins," Hyacinth replied, looking over their mother's shoulders as the woman opened the box.

"This is beautiful!" Violet gasped, admiring the jewelry, and Hyacinth agreed with her. 

"We have a new sister? Since when?" 

Francesca, agreeing with their mother and going back to the pianoforte, said, "Anthony's courting Miss Williams."

"Since when?!"

"Colin, you look like a fool."

"Mama!"

"Eloise, you know you hurt your brother's feeling when you state out the obvious," Violet Bridgerton absentmindedly said as she tried on her new bracelet, Hyacinth and Gregory giving their mother feedback.

"Mother!" Colin whined.

Benedict ignored Colin and his whining. He stood up to give his seat to Hyacinth and Gregory and walked to his favorite sister.

"The Williams siblings are... strange."

"Haven't met her older brother, but if Miss Williams is like that, then I agree."

Chapter Text

The world's doors open at the queen's command. Every man and woman in the British Empire obeys the queen's whim. We would go to battle to save her.

But what matter?

The one thing Her Majesty needs most cannot be conquered by any army.

Lady Whistledown

Eri was truly and utterly fucked.

Look, in Eri's twenty-two years of existence (or was it forty-four? God, she's positively ancient!) she has never committed a crime before. Sure, she'd jaywalk from time to time, pirate media online, try Spotify mod when she was that broke, and give her change to beggars (because somehow that's illegal in her country, like what the fuck kind of anti-poor propaganda was that?!)—it was small crimes that never really hurt anybody. Her track record was spot clean; she had to have one when she aimed to apply at the police academy. Even though there were times that she wanted to physically hit someone for being an asshole, she restrained herself.

And now? Now, Eri accidentally trespassed on Buckingham Palace.

She didn't mean to! Really, this was a big fucking accident that she wasn't sure she could explain her side and they'd accept it because this was the Buckingham Palace for Christ's sake! This wasn't just some random neighbor's house she trespassed on because she wanted to get some mangoes from their tree!

Oh my god, would she be tried for this? Stoned? Beheaded?!

(No, think, Eri! You were a criminologist; what were the due process in the 19th century?)

(She couldn't remember shit! And this was historical-romance 19th century! Did they even have due process?!)

She should've read law and court procedure books in her spare time to avoid accidentally committing crimes when all she wanted was to relieve herself!

To explain what happened, Elijah (this was his fault!) dragged Eri to Buckingham Palace. Apparently, Queen Charlotte's nephew—Fred something? Cedric? —arrived at the country, and as royals do, they arranged a party to welcome the man. It was a lovely event; Eri couldn't deny that even if she was forced to listen to people gossip about how the prince was still looking for a wife.

(She didn't want to involve herself in that mess but good luck for him, Eri's still finding a wife for a viscount, she's not a paid matchmaker to help these people find their other halves.)

Then, her bladder politely knocked and reminded her of its existence.

She didn't want to interrupt Elijah, who was having a very lively conversation with a friend; the man desperately needs to talk to other people when he's starting to be so influenced by her little sister's antics. And in her mind, it was the right thing to sneak out of the ballroom to locate the restroom. And on the seventh ring of hell did she try to locate it!

But in every hallway she took a turn to, every door she opened, she just got deeper and deeper in Buckingham's halls, and there's no restroom in sight. When she thought that maybe they have a latrine, she located the nearest exit, and here she was now lost in the middle of the freaking garden maze, like she's in The Shining, and any moment now, Jack Nicholson would randomly pop out and chase her with an axe!

Eri had been faced with multiple dead ends now, and at her eight one, she just screamed murder—uncaring or wishing that someone would help her and get her out of this purgatory of tall bushes!

(Thank heavens the flowers were hypoallergenic or she'd be reduced to curling fetal in the floor.)

After releasing all her frustration, Eri breathed deep breaths.

"That's... actually refreshing," she said out loud.

"Screaming is an effective means for discharging feelings of frustration."

"Pontius Pilate!" Eri yelled and whirled around. Arms ready to defend herself, she immediately calmed down when she saw that it was just some ordinary-looking old man and not Jack Nicholson with an axe. She brought her arms down and nodded. "Oh, yes, uh—it's not actually the healthiest way to release negative emotions; my therapist advised breathing exercises and finding a healthier outlet like doing some yoga. But why would I do yoga? It doesn't make sense. But, yeah, there are times that you just need to scream your lungs out and yell out all the bad juju away, you know?"

Eri was rambling. She couldn't help it. It felt like she's been wandering these gardens for hours, and if it wasn't for this old man, she'd probably look for a rock and name it Wilson or something.

The old man was looking at her in wonder, and Eri could agree with him; she was a wonder.

"... I do know," he agreed.

"Eri Williams," she introduced herself with a smile.

The old man scrutinized her. "... Just George. Farmer George."

Eri instantly perked up. "Farmer George?" she asked with a glint in her eyes.

The farmer nodded with a cautious look that vanished at Eri's next question.

"What do you farm, then?"

"I focus on wheat, cabbage, and sainfoin."

"Sainfoin," Eri muttered; that's a curious word. "What's that? I haven't heard of that before."

"Sainfoin is a nutritious forage crop ideal for grazing livestock like cattle, sheep, and horses. It is high in protein and digestible, making it a valuable feed, especially when other pastures are less nutritious. Unlike other legumes, it doesn't cause bloat in ruminants. Sainfoin is also a nitrogen-fixing plant, enhancing soil fertility and improving soil quality, particularly in nitrogen-deficient areas. Additionally, its deep root system aids in soil conservation by reducing erosion and water runoff."

Farmer George paused his tirade and breathed. "You do know what nitrogen is, don't you?"

"Of course, the lightest nonmetal element, discovered by Scottish chemist and physician Daniel Rutherford, and Antoine Laurent de Lavoisier actually called it 'azote' which means 'lifeless'," Eri recited from the top of her head. She was a science quiz champion in grade school and obsessed enough with science to memorize the periodic table and their random facts. She couldn't actually say some of the things she knew about nitrogen because she believed that they hadn't been discovered yet. "Do you know that nitrogen is present in coal and fossil fuels?"

(This was actually one of the most interesting conversations she had with other people. Sainfoin, she'd remember that.)

The old man frowned at her. "That information is new to me. Do you have a preference for science?"

"It was a whole phase when I was a kid," she answered with a shrug. "But science without math, though. I'm good at math but not like good, good at it."

"Astronomy and agriculture are the scientific disciplines that I find most intriguing," he shared.

"What's your favorite celestial body?"

"Venus, of course. I viewed the Transit of Venus in 1769."

"That's cool." Eri was impressed. He must be a rich farmer then. Or maybe he has some connections here in the Palace that made him able to view that historical event?

"Tell me, Miss Williams—"

"You can just call me Eri. You did witness me screaming like I'm being murdered earlier. I think we're past formalities now, Farmer George."

"... Miss Eri, then. Tell me, what do you do?"

Now that's the question, wasn't it?

"I am doing... nothing. I'm just lost, actually."

"Ah," the old man nodded and started walking. Eri immediately dogged his steps. "I often find myself lost. Most of the time, I do not know where I am. My mind is an unforgiving labyrinth from which I can easily get lost."

Eri was silent. She wasn't that kind of lost—she was literally lost—but thinking about it, she kinda was.

"Tell me about it," she muttered with resignation.

"But I am not crazy!" Farmer George denied with vehemence, his countenance angry. "I am just sick and tired, and my head is making me...! sometimes I just... just—"

"Sometimes it makes you lash out," Eri completed for him.

(Her little brother was like him, Eri remembered. Happy and angry, calm and mad, balanced and upset. Not a lot of people could understand him; sometimes Eri couldn't, too. But she tries. Or well, she tried.)

"Yes," the old man blew a frustrated breath. "I don't wish for Lottie to get tired of me. For her love to falter."

Eri reached out and patted the poor old man's shoulder. Lottie must be her wife.

"It's fine to get tired sometimes, you know? The important thing is that she still stays. And isn't commitment a part of love?"

Look at Eri comforting older people and their love lives. First, it was Violet Bridgerton, and now it was Farmer George.

If her piano career didn't boom or her being a stand-up comedian didn't work, maybe she'll be a therapist instead (except she didn't have credentials for it).

"You are an odd young woman, Miss Eri."

"You're the first one to tell me that," Eri replied.

"It is undoubtedly a topic of thought for everyone. But you are a good odd."

"Thank you, Farmer George," she chirped with a pleased smile. "May your bounty be ever fresher."

"And may you always find your way."

When they stopped walking, Eri looked around, and they were out of the garden maze, and a few paces away was an opened door of the palace.

"Once inside, head to the first corridor on your right, and you will come across the ballroom," the old man pointed.

"Thank you!" Eri didn't think it odd that the old man knew where she wanted to go.

She was about to head towards the door when she turned around and said, "You should tell Lottie you love her."

"I beg your pardon."

"It's nice to hear and be reminded that you're still loved." It's such a simple concept, too.

"Ah, I see..."

"Hey, if I ever did visit Buckingham again, may I visit you? I'd try to read about astronomy and agriculture. Maybe we can share notes?" 

The man was visibly surprised by how his eyes widened.

"... If I can still remember you by then."

She took that as a good sign. With a wave and a wild smile, she bid, "have a good day, Farmer George."

Eri turned around and headed inside. Following his instructions, she did find the ballroom when she realized something.

"I should've asked him for the restroom."

Two people sat across from each other on a long mahogany table where the ambient glow from candles or warm overhead lights created an intimate atmosphere. The table was set elegantly, with polished utensils, a cloth napkin, and a vase of fresh flowers. The hum of soft music lingers in the background, barely noticeable but adding to the peaceful mood.

Both people sit across from each other, occasionally exchanging brief glances. Each bite was deliberate, the sound of forks and knives quietly tapping on plates occasionally breaking the silence.

There was no rush, no pressure to fill every moment with words; the shared experience of the meal is enough to keep them content.

The atmosphere was one of comfortable closeness, where words are not always necessary, and the focus was on enjoying each other’s presence. The flickering light reflects in their eyes as silence remained a dance of connection without the need for elaborate gestures.

"Lottie?"

His eternally beautiful wife looked up. 

"I love you."

After all these years, she still has the same smile.

Chapter Text

The grand ballroom gleams with opulence, its high ceilings adorned with intricate gold moldings and crystal chandeliers that cast a warm, inviting glow. Rich tapestries hang on the walls, depicting regal scenes, while the polished marble floors reflect the elegant swirl of flowing gowns and tailored suits.

A symphony of music fills the air, with violins and harps creating an enchanting atmosphere. The nobility, dressed in their finest attire—silk, velvet, and satin—move gracefully through the room, exchanging polite conversation and sharing knowing smiles. The scent of delicate perfumes mingles with the soft glow of candlelight, while the rhythmic sound of dancing feet echoes as couples glide across the floor in perfect harmony. At the far end of the ballroom, a lavish banquet table is laden with the finest delicacies, waiting to be savored.

The air hums with an air of exclusivity, where titles and status are both a symbol and a secret shared among the elite.

It was the same scene of the season again and again and the Queen? The Queen was more than weary of the repetitiveness of it all.

"Eri Williams." 

"Your Majesty?" Lady Danbury asked as the queen, sitting on her lavish chair, suddenly spoke. 

"His Majesty pronounced her name a couple of times. I am convinced that he was taken with her." 

"Erica Josephine Williams, daughter of Earl Williams. She's a rather... spirited young lady," Lady Danbury was careful with her words. No matter how the young lady changed from what she used to before, the Dowager thought that it wasn't necessarily a bad change.

"I want to know why the King took a liking to her."

"The young lady avoids social events like a plague," she explained seeing that Queen Charlotte was scanning the ball room. "She only attended one event this season but I believe her brother is in attendance."

At the Queen's nod, Lady Danbury hailed a servant to call for said young lady's sister.

Mister Elijah Walter Williams was a dashing young man. Despite his lack of interest in finding a wife this season, it was evident that some of the hungry mamas and curious debutantes were eyeing the bachelor.

He was courteous, too, the picture perfect of a gentleman with his kind smile and quiet charm. Unlike other young men in the ball room, he didn't seem to seem attention to anyone, content on his own space and skin.

As he greeted the Queen and Lady Danbury, it was evident in Queen Charlotte's eyes that she was scrutinizing the young man.

"Your sister," the monarch started. "Tell me about her." 

Elijah paused, wondering what his sister did to gain the Queen's attention, before a fond smile took its place in his lips. He could use a lot of words to describe his sister but the first thing that came out of his mouth was:

"She is brilliant." Even though Eri seemed to dislike attention and would rather live in her own bubble, when she opens her mouth snd speak, Elijah never failed to hear how brilliant her sister was and how she could just brighten his day even if she always baffle him. "Too intelligent for most of us to handle but I have never seen her mock others. She's skilled at the pianoforte, too, and very good with languages."

Elijah had a lot to say about his sister but he didn't think the Queen would have the patience to hear about them.

"She doesn't sound special," Queen Charlotte dismissed. "Why does the King interests her?" 

Eri did tell him that she encountered a farmer in Buckingham Palace. Only his little sister would encounter a king in her stroll and not recognize him. Elijah wanted to sigh but the Queen asked him a question.

"Ah," Elijah murmured. It wasn't a secret that the King was mostly ill these days than not, but he didn't want to say something pertaining to it.

"You know why," the Queen persisted. 

"Since her accident, my sister sometimes... Sometimes she doesn't remember herself..." He started delicately, his gaze far away as he remembered his sister's episodes. "She tells me that she's walking in a dream and awake in a nightmare... But that doesn't stop her from being the wonderful person that she is, Your Majesty."

Lady Danbury gazed at her Queen as Charlotte looked pensive. 

"I want to meet her."

His little sister would hate that, Elijah thought. 

If someone once told Eri someday that she'd be an audience with the queen, she would just laugh. The only queen she'd be meeting in her life would be drag queens; not Queen Elizabeth, not Queen Bey and not even Mother Monster herself and that's fine. She's an ordinary twenty-two year old working her ass off to pay her bills and somehow support her parents. But that was before.

When she died and isekai-ed to this place, it was as if her life was put into a blender and just left there in the kitchen counter for everyone to push the buttons with.

Queen Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz even by just sitting down and staring at her, has a commanding presence.

She has a dark complexion and her hair is styled in elaborate, voluminous updos, adorned with pearls and intricate accessories. Her clothing is lavish and extravagant; a rich, opulent fabric, silk and satin to be precise. It was a dramatic, full skirt and intricate detailing in jewel tones, reflecting her high status and wealth.

Her facial features are distinct, sharp and expressive, with striking eyes and a poised demeanor. She exudes a sense of authority and power even when she's doing nothing. 

This character's appearance, coupled with her sophisticated styling, reinforced her role as an important figure in this world. 

She was fucking beautiful and positively radiant, if it wouldn't be seen as a disrespect, Eri would give her a standing ovation and clap for straight five minutes because this?

This was royalty.

She knows a diva when she's looking at one! She's doing nothing yet she's serving face! The face card and aura was strong in this one!

All of a sudden, Eri heard a cricket sound. Ah. She'd been in a staring contest with the Queen. 

(Why was there a fucking cricket in Buckingham? Make that make sense please!)

Silence.

Then a white fluff with two beady eyes barged into the room. 

"A puppy!" Eri exclaimed.

She was about to stand up and scoop the small dog in her arms only for it to head towards the Queen herself who narrowed her eyes at her. Eri remembered where she was.

At this moment, Eri wanted bang her head on the floor to give herself an amnesia and forgot that she acted like this in front of the queen. She cleared her throat, straightened her back and adopted a pleasant expression.

Let history books tell you that Eri really tried to act like a noble proper young lady, she just got distracted by a puppy that's currently receiving pets from the queen.

"I apologize for my unseemly behavior, Your Majesty," Eri said with seriousness.

The Queen peered at her.

"Tell me about yourself, Miss Williams," the older woman commanded and Eri hurriedly answered.

"I am Eri Williams, twenty-two years old, Scorpio and I love long walks in the beach." 

Oh my fucking god! Why did she introduced herself like a cliche Tinder bio?! Why?!

The Queen clicked her tongue, unimpressed. Eri just wanted to die right on the spot.

She looked down and saw beady eyes staring at her. Eri mentally sighed. She promised her brother that she wouldn't do anything to compromise their family name but as Eri over thinks, she's just making the situation worse.

Eri closed her eyes and when she opened them, she looked straight at the Queen. 

"May it be possible for me to ask Farmer, I mean His Majesty's condition?" Eri immediately rectified. Yeah, maybe referring to the King so casually in that name in front of the Queen wasn't the best idea.

"He is currently indisposed," was the short reply.

"Ah," Eri nodded and placed on top of the table the leather-bound journal she brought with her to Buckingham. "If I may be so bold to ask and give this to him? I promised that if I visited Buckingham Palace again, we would exchange notes."

Queen Charlotte opened Eri's notes. It was actually about how irrigation was vital to the agriculture in the 19th century, as it allowed farmers to grow crops in areas that would otherwise be too dry or infertile. By directing water from rivers and lakes to the fields, farmers were able to cultivate larger swaths of land, leading to an increase in crop production. Irrigation also allowed farmers to better control the amount of water their crops received, allowing for more consistent growth and higher yields. This increased productivity meant that more food was available to a growing population, making irrigation a critical factor in the agriculture—and her notes specified different types of irrigation system that could be used in countrysides of England.

"You have an atrocious script," Queen Charlotte commented. 

"Quills don't agree with me." Eri writes in blocks instead of script. Even if she knows how to write in cursive, it looked like a disaster when using a quill.

Eri watched how the Queen held her journal as if it was something worth more than diamonds. She closed it gently and placed it in the table, close to her. There was tenderness in the Queen's action belying her stern demeanor.

Oh.

She didn't give it back to Eri or pointed out her audacity. 

(Eri liked her.)

"I will send you a tutor then." 

"Your Majesty, there is no need—"

"I command it."

Well... If she commands it; what could Eri, a simple young lady, do against a literal queen?

"So, your plans for marriage," the Queen stated.

"... Non-existent?" Eri answered, confusion and caution warring in her face.

Where did this question even come from?

The Queen waved a dismissive hand.

"Nonsense, of course you have one." 

"I really don't have one, Your Majesty," Eri said with honesty.

She was too busy with her everyday life and finding a wife for Anthony Bridgerton—which actually that, she really needs to focus on that one.

"I mean, it hasn't been that long since I woke up and I haven't recovered any of my memories. And so far, I am still in the process of rediscovering myself." That was Eri-talk for 'I am hydrated, full and happy in my home please leave me be.'

The Queen hummed. The tiny fur creature jumped out of her lap and ran out of the room—Eri suddenly had a feeling that she should run away too because whatever makes the Queen's eyes glint like that wasn't good for Eri's constitution.

"I have made a decision," Queen Charlotte nodded. "For the duration of the season, you shall be attending every social event." 

"Why?" She blurts out in despair.

"This current season is proving to be uninteresting for me, but I believe you have the ability to alter that." The older woman gently sipped her tea as if she wasn't wrecking Eri's anonymity by the second. "My Diamond of the Season has admirable conduct, but the current season falls short of the blooming qualities that the last one possessed. And you, Miss Williams, will change that for me."

(How? How could she change that?!)

Eri was speechless. She could hear bells rolling as she buried her quiet social life.

For the lack of better thing to do, Eri reached out and plucked a cookie, bite into it viciously and angrily chewed.

"I command it." 

And that was the final hammer to Eri's coffin.

(This wouldn't have happened if she took her wingman duties seriously. Diamond of the Season? That sounds fucking important! She must've been the female lead! And why wasn't she doing her job and entertaining the bored Queen?! Why was Eri forcibly put into this?!)

(Why? Just why?!)

(Why does someone that has Farmer George calling them Lottie be this evil?)

"You shall visit me next time and we will see my zebras." 

Eri wanted to object but actually—she liked the sound of that.

"Thankies." 

Chapter Text

Dearest Gentle Reader,

Whispers abound in the drawing rooms of the ton that Miss Erica Williams has found herself under the singular attention of none other than Her Majesty the Queen and His Majesty the King. Such is their fascination that the Queen has not only taken the young lady under her esteemed wing but has also decreed that she be graced with the finest tutors available.

One cannot help but wonder what implications this holds for the Diamond of the Season. Could it be that Her Majesty has uncovered a jewel of even rarer brilliance and greater elusiveness, one she intends to refine to perfection?

The question on everyone’s lips, of course, is who shall prove worthy of such an exotic and enchanting creature, a lady who has so deftly ensnared the admiration of royalty itself.

Whoever he may be, rest assured his fortune shall be the envy of all.

Yours with pen poised,

Lady Whistledown

The warm sun shone on the crystal-clear water of the lake, casting a dazzling reflection on the smooth surface. Ripples from the breeze created dancing patterns of light and shadow across the water. The shoreline was lined with trees, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze and the occasional bird call sounding through the air. A sense of peace and tranquility pervaded the air, as if all the stresses of the world had been washed away, replaced by a deep, abiding sense of contentment.

Yet here was Eri; contemplating Mary Antoinette.

Whether Marie Antoinette 'deserved' to be beheaded is a complex and subjective question, and it depends on the perspective one takes.

From the perspective of the French Revolutionaries, her execution was seen as a necessary act to dismantle the monarchy and prevent the return of an oppressive system. They viewed her as a symbol of the excesses and corruption of the aristocracy, especially during a time when many ordinary French citizens were suffering from economic hardship. Her lavish lifestyle, her perceived indifference to the people's suffering, and her failed escape attempt in 1791 made her a target for revolutionaries who were determined to root out the old regime.

However, from a historical or more modern perspective, one could argue that Marie Antoinette's execution was a tragic and extreme outcome of political upheaval. While she may have been an unpopular and flawed monarch, many of the charges against her were exaggerated or based on political motivations rather than her actual actions. Some historians also suggest that she became a scapegoat for the Revolution's broader problems, and her trial and execution were more about eliminating a figurehead of the monarchy than about seeking true justice.

In the end, whether she deserved to be beheaded depends largely on one's views about justice, revolution, and the context of the time.

"What are you thinking, sister?" 

"Regicide."

Her answer made Elijah stopped on his tracks. She stared at her older brother with a flat expression, not a hint on her face whether she's joking or not.

"... I will pretend that I did not hear that."

"Plausible deniability and all that." Eri nodded.

Elijah shook his head with a sigh. "The Queen's order is not unduly harsh. She just ordered you to go out and socialize. Besides, the sun is good for you."

"What is with you and your obsession with exposing me to the sun?" Eri asked.

"Most of the days, you look pale, sister, and that concerns me so."

"You mother hen."

Her brother chuckled and they continued their slow stroll.

"I know you despise attending social events but think of all the fun that you can have?"

"I'd rather carve my eyes out with a spoon than be here."

"I find it surprising that you've come, and it appears you have done so unwillingly," a voice suddenly said at Eri's side. The pair of siblings looked at the man smoothly joining their conversation, and he bowed. "Mr. Williams, Miss Williams."

"Lord Bridgerton, it is a pleasure to see you," Elijah replied amicably. "And yes, it is against my sister's will to be here."

"Why are you two buddy-buddy with each other?" Eri asked, scrunching her nose with confusion before she noticed something. "Ah—that's not important. Why do you look extra handsome today?"

Anthony Bridgerton was clearly taken aback.

"How... How am I supposed to answer that?"

"Hm..." Eri hummed as she unashamedly appreciated the man's beauty. It's truly unfair to be this handsome. Maybe Eri should commission Benedict for a portrait of his brother? Would he think it odd for Eri to do that? It's not like she could explain that it'd serve as her Jonathan Bailey poster supreme™.

"Never mind that, would you like to go stroll around the lake with me?" She asked out of the blue. 

Anthony stared at her for a second. "You know, I should be the one asking you that... But if you insist, I would actually like that." 

"I insist," Eri said and without hesitation, she placed her hand in the crook of his arm and pulled the man with her, leaving her brother behind her. "I find myself curious, have you met the Diamond, yet? Miss Idina—"

"Edwina."

"—Edwina Sharma?" Eri let herself be corrected, she's in her mission right now. No need to turn her mood icky.

"I indeed did meet her." 

"Any thoughts? Opinions? Personal feelings?" 

"... She's a kind snd beautiful young woman," Anthony replied in a slightly confused voice. 

"I see." Kind and beautiful, Mr. Grumpy-pants said, that's basically him worshipping Miss Edwina. "And where does she stand on your wife-scale?" 

"My what now?"

"How would you grade her, I mean, as a wife prospect."

"Well, she's perfect."

Eri stopped in her tracks to look up at the man with wide eye. 

"Perfect? As in a hundred over a hundred?" She clarified.

Anthony, sensing something, hesitated. "Yes...?" 

"If she's perfect, then, why aren't you with her now?" 

"Why would I be with her?"

"Ah, I see now. Do you need my approval or something?" She asked. If her role was to be the matchmaker, was her approval of Miss Edwina Sharma pivotal?

"Why would I need—" 

"Where's she now?" Eri interrupted her.

"Miss Williams, I am terribly confused by the turn of this conversation—"

"Where's she at?" She repeated.

Anthony Bridgerton huffed. "There. At the docks, with her sister."

"Come on."

Eri basically pulled the man with her and ignored his grumbling and protesting. Oh, she's doing this for his own good. He should be thankful really. She's doing him a favor and setting him up with his future wife.

"Hello!" Eri greeted in a slightly louder voice as she approached the sisters in the docks. The both of them swiveled to look at her curiously and they were baffled to notice the offended viscount in her arms.

"Eri Williams, nice to meet you, Miss Edwina," Eri nodded at the taller of the two. Assuming that she was the Diamond because she looked positively divine. Like a fucking movie star straight out of Bollywood.

(Ah, for shame, she wouldn't be able to watch Bollywood movies now! They were always a treat.)

"A-ah, good morning, Miss Williams. Although I am not Ed—" 

"Have you met dear Anthony, yet?" She interrupted and did a jazz hands as if showcasing the viscount to his future wife. "Very grumpy but much handsome, no? You'd look good together."

The smaller and sweeter-looking Sharma let out a baffled laugh at her actions and words, while the taller one couldn't decide if she'd laugh or be offended for his sake.

"Miss Williams, please, I am confused as to the purpose—"

Eri wasn't really focusing on the conversation now because that right there, sitting innocently on the docks, was a cute fucking—

"A puppy!" She exclaimed, immediately rushing off to pet the good boy. She was denied of petting Queen Charlotte's ball of fluff and now? Now she's fucking determined to pet this handsome boy. She deserved it! She want to pet a furry creature goddamnit!

Reacting to her excitement, the pup barrelled into her and as she tried to embrace for impact, Eri accidentally stepped on her gown.

Ah, lake water. Murky lake water.

With a sharp gasp, Eri lost her balance and tumbled backward, the cold water rushing up to meet her. She could hear screams of her name but the water muffled its sounds. Her arms flailed desperately, her breath catching as she struggled to stay above the surface. She splashed and kicked, her heart racing, but the water seemed to pull her in deeper. Panic surged through her as she realized she was drifting farther from the shore.

She was a swimmer. A damn good swimmer! But her gown was weighing her down, down, down.

The once peaceful lake, now an unfamiliar and overwhelming force, seemed to mock her helplessness. Her limbs felt heavy, and the chilly water made it harder to keep afloat. Eri's eyes stung with the cold as she gasped for air, her cries muffled by the lapping water.

Just as she felt herself sinking, a figure appeared at the edge of the lake—someone had seen her fall. With a powerful dive, they reached her, pulling her back to safety, where the shore seemed like a distant, unreachable dream. Gasping and trembling, Eri was finally hoisted onto solid ground, shivering from the shock of the near-drowning, her heart still pounding in her chest.

"What were you doing?!" The viscount roared as the both of them were pulled back in the docks. 

There was a lot of noise and clamoring and Eri couldn't really concentrate on any of it.

It was terrifying.

She'd never once saw water and be terrified of it. She grew up in its beautiful shores with sand on her skin, salt in her hair, and the sun kissing her nose.

"–Miss Williams, you–" 

She was... She was–she died slipping on the docks. With her head bashing on the old wood and forever coating it with her blood.

"–give her space!"

She didn't drown. She was a bit of distance from the sea for her to fall down and drown. No–she just... She just slipped and it was in the middle of the storm. The rain was unforgivable on her skin and the thunder merciless on her cries.

"–someone get her brother–" 

She didn't drown.

She didn't drown but she couldn't breathe.

She couldn't breathe!

"Eri, please breathe." 

There was someone patting her cheeks repeatedly as Eri gasped and found her salvation.

Looking at dark brown eyes, Eri shuddered.

"You–" she coughed and she suddenly found herself enveloped by a wet coat. It really didn't help abate the cold but the sentiment was nice. "... Thank you."

(Eri wanted to cry. She's a horrible wingman. She should be focusing on his love life and not doing stunts that would kill her.)

(How horrible. And sad. Just plain sad.)

(Why was she the wingman anyways? She's so terrible at this it's not even funny at this point.)

Concern, anger and something more warred in the man's eyes as he surveyed her and took every detail of her face. She must've looked like a drowned rat.

"Miss Williams, let us assist you to your carriage," the smaller Sharma, Miss Edwina's sister, offered.

Eri didn't have the time to agree when her brother entered the scene and activated his mother hen mode.

"I should probably stay off of dogs now," she mumbled mournfully to herself, hugging the man carrying her to their carriage while Elijah took control of everything and barked at anyone blocking their way.

"... That is for the best."

The dogs of this world were hellions. First it was Queen Charlotte's, then it was the Sharma's pup. Maybe the next dog she'd try to pet would result in her accidentally getting married to someone.

She shivered in disgust and felt Anthony's arms tightening their hold on her. Eri absentmindedly grabbed his pecs and squeezed.

"... I liked cats better, anyway." 

That night, Shae knocked in her room carrying a fluffy kitten.

"She came with Lord Bridgerton's letter of well wishes for you to recover." 

"Oh," Eri mumbled, looking down at the kitten placed on her lap.

"Miss... The viscount had a lot of words to say about your, and I quote, 'stupidity'," Shae added but Eri wasn't listening anymore.

"She's so ugly," she bluntly commented, playing with the cat's ear.

"I love her," she said after a minute and hummed as she played with the kitten. "... Waterloo. I was defeated, you won the war..."

"... Whatever makes you happy, Miss."

(She named the kitten Napoleon.)

Chapter Text

Eri learned that the Queen's eye came with the attention of the ton.

It was a wonderful morning, or as wonderful as Eri tried to make it. She was skipping towards the drawing room to practice her piano skills when the sight of men carrying bouquets and boxes lining up to the drawing room stopped her.

"Oh, hi," Eri greeted as the men collectively turned their heads towards her like a group of meerkats seeing an insect crawling on a tree. Spooked, Eri back tracked. "... What's the occasion?" 

"Miss Williams," one of the men approached her but Elijah seemed to teleport at her side.

"Mister Cornling, may I talk to my little sister for a second?"

Without waiting for the man's approval–why would they even need it when they're in their house?–Elijah ushered her in the drawing room and Shae immediately closed the doors behind them.

Eri swiveled the her brother with wide eyes. "What the fuck was that?"

Elijah, knowing better, just grimaced and didn't reprimand his sister for her coarse language. "They are here to visit you on calling hours."

"... Make that make sense."

"Those fine gentlemen outside our drawing room intends to call on you to socialize and give you gifts or for even something more."

Eri didn't understand. What's so special about visiting someone in calling hours? "Something more? More like what?"

"Courtship, sister."

The young woman gaped at her brother. "That doesn't make sense."

"I agree."

"You mean to tell me that those men want to date me?"

"Date...?"

"Court, brother!"

"Not necessarily. They will want to know you first and if they like you, which isn't hard to do, you're very likable, sister, then they will pursue your hand. Of course, if you want to give them your permission for that...?"

"Of course, I don't want to be courted! That seems like a troublesome mess that will stress me out in the future! I'm already occupied with Anthony as it is!"

Elijah paused, a strange expression entering his face. "You and Lord Bridgerton are that serious, huh?"

"We are that serious." Eri crossed her arms and nodded. With her recent failures, she's starting to take this wingman duty more seriously. Anthony gifted her a cat, and Eri liked to think that the man did it because he's thanking her for introducing her to his female lead.

(And how did Elijah know that Eri's trying to matchmake Anthony Bridgerton? That's odd. She never told her plan to anyone, not even to Shae. Was Eri just that obvious with it?)

"Should I write to Papa and Mama about this?"

"Why would you?" She asked in confusion. "I have this all handled. Just sit tight, enjoy the show and if I did this all correctly, maybe there'll be an engagement party next month."

All of a sudden, Eri found herself engulfed in a hug. What's with this weirdo?

"You are under no obligation or duress to proceed with this, little sister. But if this is your decision, know that I will always be by your side."

Eri was fucking touched, and a tad bit confused. Sure, the support was sweet, but wasn't Elijah taking this too seriously? It's not like Eri nor Elijah would be affected greatly when Anthony Bridgerton manage to win his female lead. Right after Eri finished wingman-ing, she'd pat herself on the shoulder, tell her what a job well done she did, and completely forget that the viscount did exist. He already had his happy ever after, what more could he want with a simple wingman like Eri?!

"... Thanks, dude." He's way too emotionally invested in this.

When Elijah freed her from his admittedly comfortable embrace, he asked, "would it be appropriate for me to pass on the message that you are not presently open to receiving visitors?"

"Yeah, do that. I'm not in the mood to entertain any of these strangers."

"Of course."

Before her brother walked out of the room, Eri pulled his hand. "Brother, is the viscount somehow out there?"

"Yes."

"Oh, let him in then. I have something to talk to him about."

Elijah patted her head and walked out to the room. Shae gave her a look full of meaning, which totally passed Eri's head, and occupied the seat near the door.

"I shall be your chaperone, Miss."

Eri just shrugged and went to her piano. She was playing a simple tune as an exercise when the viscount entered the drawing room.

"Good morning, Miss Williams. I thank you for permitting me to call upon you."

Eri absentmindedly hummed and patted the empty spot next to her. "Come sit."

It took a bit of moment before the man obeyed.

"Is this appropriate?" He asked.

Turning her attention to Anthony, Eri blinked.

"Why is it, that every time I see you, you are getting more handsome?" She asked, ignoring his question. She waved in his direction. "It's impossible for someone to be that handsome, really!"

She wasn't ashamed to admit that she has a weakness with beautiful people. Eri knew that pretty privilege sucks because it's totally unfair to them mere mortals but she just couldn't resist a pretty face. Who would?! Who dares to resist Jonathan Bailey when he's this fresh looking!

"... Mama insisted that I should shave the sideburns."

"Tell Lady Bridgerton my thanks, she's doing the world a favor," Eri said solemnly. She straightened up and went to business. "Now! Why did you come and visit me?"

"I merely wish to inquire upon your health."

"I'm healthy as ever, thank you."

"And to remind you to stop being so reckless."

"... I did read you letter," Eri said. It was a truly funny thing actually. Eri didn't know it the man was more upset that she dove in a lake because of a dog or offended she didn't take her life seriously. Hey, in her defense, Eri was taking her life seriously–she's just furball deprived. It truly was a big thing that Anthont gave her a kitten, in the future, she wouldn't risk her social life or drowning just to pet a dog.

"I would let you see Napoleon but she's sleeping in my bed, nobody has the right to disturb her aside from me."

"Napoleon?"

"The kitten you gave me. She's so ugly. And sweet. I think I'll kill a man for that kitten. No, I'll definitely shoot a man for that one."

"... But she's a female kitten?"

Eri grinned. Anthony casually by passing her threat of killing a man for a kitten was such a big point for him!

"She chose Napoleon for her name. Don't judge me."

Anthony looked at him with narrowed eyes before he sighed and finally handed her the bouquet of flowers he was carrying.

"I heard that lilacs and hyacinths are your personal favorites." There was softness in the man's eyes as he looked at her, a deeper emotion swirling in it that Eri wanted to identify but couldn't.

(For a moment, Eri had a crazy thought.)

(But she reigned herself. She's the wingman. She's his wingman. It'll be fucking ridiculous for her to even consider wanting him for herself.)

(Miss Edwina's so lucky that she could have Jonathan Bailey for herself.)

"They are," she murmured as she accepted the flower. Instead of giving it to Shae and asking it to be placed in a vase, she put it down on her lap and played with the petals. Anthony eyed her hands and smiled.

Ah. So handsome.

"By the way! Any updates with Miss Edwina?"

"She is doing well, I suppose?"

In her confusion, her nose scrunched involuntarily. "Haven't you been exchanging letters with her or something? To ask her if she's doing well or getting to know her."

"Miss Williams, why would I do that?" Now, he sounded offended.

What's got in his ass all of a sudden? She's just asking questions here!

"Why wouldn't you?" She asked back.

"Why would I?" 

Eri gasped and pointed a finger at his face. "No, you didn't just do that! That's supposed to be my trick!"

The man huffed a laugh and shook his head. "Why do you continue to baffle me so, Miss Williams?"

"I don't know, Anthony, why do you continue seeking me out like this?"

He must have been so entertained with Eri became she couldn't think of any other reason why he'd patiently endure her presence. Yeah, Eri's fucking amazing and a wonder but her comedy's out of this world (literally). She managed to make all the Bridgertons she met laugh and Anthony here's getting a free service of her stand up comedy!

Blushing, the man averted his eyes and cleared his throat.

And Eri? Eri was left staring at his face. Oh no. This was getting ridiculous! He shouldn't be acting all cute now! He's supposed to be grouchy and so serious! He's already undeniably attractive as he is and now that he's blushing... Eri was so furious that whoever made this series casted Jonathan Bailey. And now, Eri made it one of her mission to make the man blush as much as possible just to see him get this adorable look in his face!

(She should set him up with the female lead, ASAP. Maybe he'll act more cutesy with her and Eri would gladly watch at the sidelines.)

"You should invite me to your house sometimes," Eri said without really thinking about it.

The man blinked in surprise. "Yes, of course. But may I ask why the sudden want to visit?"

"I want to see a portrait of your father." Lady Bridgerton was beautiful. Eri wanted to see if Anthony's father was hot if his genes managed to produce someone this good looking!

(Come to think of it, Benedict Bridgerton acted odd towards her but she could see his appeal. And Eloise Bridgerton? That one's a looker. If she wasn't so busy with Penelope Featherington at the time of their meeting, she'd focus on admiring Eloise.)

"I..." Anthony tried to find his words as Eri waited for his reply. "If... If that is what you want, Miss Williams." 

Eri smiled and nodded. She looked down at her lap and softly pinched a petal of hyacinths.

When Anthony cleared his throat to get her attention, she looked up at him with a raised eyebrow to see that he was hesitating.

"This Saturday... Lady Danbury will be hosting a soiree–"

"Again? How much money does that old woman have?!" She exclaimed.

That managed to make the viscount smile. "A lot, Miss Williams. It's not uncommon to host multiple parties in a season but Lady Danbury will be hosting one at the Queen's behest."

She tilted her head. "What for?"

"I really don't like listening to rumors but if they're right, then it's for Prince Friedrich. He is looking for a wife and since Lady Danbury is supporting the Diamond, the Queen thought it prudent for them to spend time together in a soiree."

Digesting his words, Eri had a moment of enlightenment. Fucking hell, so this story was a love triangle?! Is that it?

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton as the main lead, Miss Edwina Sharma as the female lead and Prince Friedrich as the second male lead?

At this thought, Eri had the sudden urge to meet Prince Friedrich. She's starting to like Anthony Bridgerton. Yes, he has his moments of rudeness but she's growing on her like a damn fungi. Miss Edwina Sharma, from their short meeting was beautiful and from what Anthony told her, she's perfect. This was a historical-romance, and in most romance films or series, there's a second lead syndrome. Maybe Prince Friedrich was a standup guy and she'd like him, too.

(Eri's promise to stop meeting important characters seemed like an impossible achievement now.)

(She really shouldn't involve herself in any of these people's lives, but damn it, just this season. Just this season and after this? She'd be gone. Pop! Like she wasn't even here.)

(And the Queen did order her to attend every social event this season, one way or another, she'd meet Prince Friedrich and when she did, she'd scout if he's a passable second lead.)

"–Miss Williams?" 

"Hmm?" Eri focused on reality and realized that Anthony was asking her a question. To look like she's listening, she just agreed. "Yes."

That pleased the man. "I will look forward to escorting you in Lady Danbury's soiree, Miss Williams."

Oh. Oh. Was that what she agreed on to? 

Looking in his pleased expression, Eri didn't even have the energy to summon and tell the man that she's not exactly listening. If he wanted to escort her, then so be it. What harm would that do? Besides, that'll just give her the opportunity to accidentally push the man in Miss Edwina's direction.

"Great!" Eri faked an enthusiastic smile and shooed the man. "You should go now."

It seemed like the man was so pleased with her acceptance of his invitation to escort her that he managed to ignore her rudeness and did as she said but not without taking her hand and kissing it in farewell. His lips lingering on her bare hand.

It had been minutes since the man took his exit but Eri was left still staring at her knuckles.

Odd. So fucking odd. Her hand was tingling.

"Shae? Remind me to ask Anthony what he had for breakfast earlier."

"... What for, Miss?"

"I think I'm allergic–ah, sensitive to it."

"... If it makes you happy, Miss."

Much snarky, this one–what Master Yoda would probably say.

Chapter Text

It had come to Eri's attention that she's not really an expert when it comes to love.

Before, she'd had various relationships with people, but she'd never really felt that deep, encompassing love that people in romance novels seem to have. She was an Asian, and her family was not vocal in their feelings with each other; they did not casually say their 'I love you's, but it was there, it was present, and it was felt, and for them, that was enough. And with her romantic partners, it was easy. There were heartbreaks, but it was casual; she could move on easily because she had other things to worry about than a romantic partner that would inevitably just be a memory on her part.

And Eri never fell in love with someone before. Not deeply, not truly, and not like in the fairy tales. She liked them, yes, and she thought she'd develop feelings for them, but she just—didn't, and she's never even bothered by it. 

Going by her history, she really shouldn't be here and deciding people's love lives for them. She shouldn't be matchmaking or judging them to be a perfect match. But damn if Eri wouldn't accomplish this one job. She really didn't care about any of this at first, but she's starting to stake her pride in it. Elijah now knew this plan, and for sure, even Shae does! What's next, her parents?!

(Even though Eri told Elijah not to bother their parents about this, because it's weird that they're too invested in the viscount's life, she heard him muttering about it while checking his correspondence! Were they exchanging letters about Eri's hobbies and side quests now?!)

So Eri couldn't fail now!

With determination in her step, Eri arrived at Lady Danbury's estate and scanned the crowd of partygoers (seriously, these people need to find other hobbies other than rich people partying) for the familiar pretty face of Anthony Bridgerton—and voila! There he was!

Eri didn't really need to call the man because his eyes were already on her, and he was approaching her as if in a trance. When he was at a closer distance, Eri was about to say something, but the man took hold of her gloved hands and kissed her knuckle.

"Eri, hi," he said, his voice earnest as he pierced her with that small upturn in his lips.

She blue-screened.

It was such a simple thing. It was such a simple greeting, and yet—yet...

In that moment, Eri's plans vanished. She couldn't see him being with the Diamond of the Season. She didn't want to give him to his female lead. She had come to the painful reminder that she's just a side character. She's practically no one in the viscount's life, and yet... Eri cursed whoever wrote this book series for making Anthony Bridgerton such a devastating character.

Seriously, fuck them.

"Hello, Anthony," she replied, her smile coming so easily on her lips as she looked up at him. "Were you waiting for me?"

"I am only here because you will be here as well."

"Oh, really, that's your only reason?"

"What other reasons do I need to have?" 

"Point." She looked around the ballroom for the female lead.

"Don't you have a dance card?" Anthony asked as Eri kept on looking around.

Shae explained to her what dance cards were all about, and really she saw no point in having one. There's no reason for her to have a dance card if she's not aiming to meet any of the gentlemen here and entertain them with a dance. Nuh-huh. Dance cards were for those looking for a spouse.

"There's no point, really. I already have you," Eri absentmindedly murmured. She already has her hands full with this wingman thing; why would she add 'looking for a spouse' to her plate now?

"I see..." Anthony Bridgerton squeezed her hand, and Eri didn't really have the time to think that they were basically holding hands when she saw the radiant other Sharma sister. 

Without saying anything, she pulled Anthony and marched towards the sister of the female lead with a smile forming in her lips.

"Good evening!" She cheerfully greeted. Blindsided by her cheerfulness and the now confused viscount at her side, it took a second for the other Sharma to recover.

"Lord Bridgerton, Miss Williams." She did a perfect curtsey as a pleasant smile formed on her lips. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

"Oh, I'm looking for your sister!" Eri chirped. "Miss Edwina?"

That made the smaller woman giggle. "I am Edwina Sharma, Miss Williams. The one you are referring to is my sister Kate."

Ah. There was a mistake then.

Eri now looked at the smaller woman with new eyes and eyed her. She was a pretty thing. Petite and innocent-looking.

"I apologize for my confusion," Eri replied.

"There is no worry, Miss Williams. It is an honest mistake." She giggled.

If this was Edwina, the real Edwina, and Diamond of the Season, Eri desperately wondered how she could be Anthony Bridgerton's wife. She mistook her sister, Kate, to be the Diamond because she appeared like a perfect match with Anthony because the woman looked as if she could bite off any man's head and wouldn't be bothered with the viscount's rudeness. But Miss Edwina seemed... too innocent, really. Too kind, even.

Not that Anthony Bridgerton didn't deserve any kindness; he does; it's just that Eri didn't want this woman to be eaten off by Anthony's harshness.

(Come to think of it, from their past interactions, Anthony had been... mellow, for the lack of a better word. He wasn't as rude nor harsh as their first meeting was—but Eri thought that was because he didn't have the time to gather up his rudeness when he's always caught off guard with Eri's Eri-ness.)

But, oh! Maybe this was the grumpy/sunshine trope?! Okay. Okay... Now, Eri could see it.

"And how is your sister, Miss Sharma?" Anthony joined the conversation. "Why is she not with you?"

"Kate is with Lady Danbury, my lord. Lady Danbury is introducing her to some of the guests while I wander about the ballroom, taking in the sights."

Seeing them interacting with each other, Eri couldn't deny that they look good together.

"Pardon my curiosity, have you set your eyes on someone already?" Anthony asked. "The last time we had the pleasure of talking, your sister was well..."

That made Miss Edwina giggle, and Eri wondered what the hell they were talking about.

"I haven't yet, my lord. And please do excuse my sister, Kate means to ensure my happiness."

"Ugh," Eri suddenly groaned, interrupting the pair as she saw who arrived at the soiree. "Anthony, you didn't tell me Queen Charlotte will be here."

They turned to what she was looking at, and there was the ever-divine and radiant Queen Charlotte making an entrance. She was spectacular. Damn this woman for being that way!

"Now I have to hide!" She whined.

"But why, Miss Williams?" Miss Edwina asked.

"The Queen's a beautiful sadist, a gorgeous madwoman!" Eri lamented out loud, unaware that some of the guests were looking at her with wide eyes and was clearly listening to their conversation.

Eri gave Edwina a beseeching look. "Hey, you're her Diamond, right? Can you distract her for me before she sees me and demands my presence?" She shuddered at the thought of being in that woman's eyes; Eri didn't need the extra attention now!

"Miss Williams, I couldn't possibly—"

"She's with her nephew. Have you talked to Prince Friedrich before? I'm sure he's a swell guy and maybe in need of someone rescuing her away from that woman, too. And you'd be that savior, Miss Edwina!" Eri looked at her with beseeching eyes—the one that no one could say no to.

"A-ah... I would... I would gladly talk to the Queen and Prince for you, Miss Williams."

"You're so sweet!" Eri glomped on the woman. "Come on, Anthony!"

Without further ado, she tightened her hold on Anthony's hand and ran. 

Eri didn't know where the fuck she was going, just that she needed to get away from that ballroom lest Queen Charlotte see her and ask her to be her personal jester. If that even happened, Eri didn't know if she could refuse, really. She'd complain, yes, but she'd really be her clown if the Queen said the words that Eri detested with her core: 'I command it.'

Panting, Eri collapsed on an empty bench in the dark garden of Lady Danbury's estate. Her feet unconsciously took them to the garden because Eri knew that no one really hangs out in these places when there's a party inside. Next to her, Anthony Bridgerton sat and looked down at her.

"What was that for, Eri?"

"I really can't afford to be seen by Queen Charlotte right now, okay? I have more important matters to attend to."

"Important matters such as?"

"You," she blurts out.

She heard his breath hitched as he blinked down at her.

"Eri, I do not know why you still manage to surprise me."

"That's my talent, you know? And ah, shit! We shouldn't be here!" Again, her plan to push him to his future wife was foiled. Fucking fantastic; Eri's a failure. 

"You shouldn't be here!" She stressed because she should at least have the decency to leave her in Miss Edwina's hands. Even if she's hiding from the Queen and with her request for Miss Edwina to rescue Prince Friedrich from her, she should've at least remembered her plans and not pulled Anthony with her. 

(Maybe if she left Anthony with Miss Edwina, it was the canon meet-up of the love triangle!)

(And Eri, fucking ruined that!)

(Oh my god, she's a destroyer of canon!)

"I agree we should not be here," Anthony said as he looked around the dark garden. His words seemed to have other meanings, but Eri didn't get it. Was there something special about Lady Danbury's garden that it's not allowed for guests?

"I'm going to take you back to Miss Edwina." Eri sat up and heaved a sigh. Loathe as she to be in Queen Charlotte's eyes again, Eri mist risk it to become the good wingman that she needed to be.

She stood up, but before she got there, Anthony pulled her hand, and Eri suddenly found herself being manhandled by the man. She was leaning back on the bench while the man towered over her. Okay... What's happening...?

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why must you take me back to Miss Edwina?"

"Because I must."

"Why?"

"Because it's Miss Edwina, duh."

"I do not understand."

"Do I have to spell it out for you? You must spend time with her and bond, you know?"

Frustration and confusion swam in the man's eyes. "No, I do not know. Why would you even think I must do that with her when I told you earlier that the only reason for my attendance was because of your presence?"

Now, it was Eri's turn to be confused. So, Anthony would rather hang out with his best pal than his female lead then? Shouldn't there be an instant connection with Anthony and Edwina? That's what mostly happened with romance novels, really. Or was this a slow burn? 

Oh my fucking god, Eri wouldn't survive in this hell if this was a slow burn. Because that takes so much time and work that Eri couldn't tell if she'd have the energy to even last that long—or for however many months it would take for Anthony Bridgerton and Edwina Sharma to fall in love with each other.

Blowing a frustrated breath, she raised her hands and placed them on Anthony's shoulder, forcing him to sit down next to her. "You go sit down because I don't like men towering over me, got it?"

It pisses her off, seriously. She didn't need it to be painfully reminded of her height.

"... I apologize."

Eri hummed and wiggled on the hard bench, trying to find a comfortable position. Giving up, she slumped on Anthony.

"Being a wingman is hard work, dude," she said.

Seconds passed before the man relaxed and rested his hands on the bench, seemingly afraid to even touch her while Eri was casually using him as a pillow.

"... Wingman?"

"Oh, I think the term's not invented yet," she answered.

She tilted her head to look up at him, and Anthony's dark eyes bore into hers.

"Don't worry, Anthony. I'll find you your happiness."

"I already found it, Eri."

Eri smiled. Of course he did; Miss Edwina's just inside, and if Eri had something to say about it, she'd orchestrate more events for them to interact and know each other.

(Maybe she'd lock them in a closet or something?)

(... Nah, that'll cause a scandal if they're caught.)

"I'd secure it, then."

Suddenly, Anthony leaned down, bringing their faces closer. "You would, wouldn't you—"

"Gah!" Eri shot up, knocking her head in the man's chin as she scrambled to get her feet on the bench.

"—ack!"

"Something crawled on my leg!"

"... E-Eri—"

"Oh my god, you're bleeding! Did you bit your tongue?!"

(Uncaring of the world around it, the cockroach continued crawling in its merry way.)

Chapter Text

When Anthony Bridgerton started his hunt—it really was a hunt, no better word to describe it—for a wife, Benedict was certain that his brother would fail.

His brother was a charming man and could sweep any woman's feet off, but with his sheer determination and strange passion bordering on obsession for this, women would rather run away from him instead of at him. His lady mother was right to worry that Anthony was too unfeeling in his self-imposed duty of finding a wife, and Daphne was right when she wrote in her letters that Anthony would scare the women off. But strange as it may, as the Bridgerton family were next to host the ball of the season in Audrey Hall, he was acting odd.

Benedict, alongside his siblings and mother, thought that Anthony would pursue Miss Edwina Sharma. She was the Diamond of the Season after all; who else was more perfect than the Diamond herself to suit the strict requirements of the viscount? That was the reason why their mother invited the Sharma to spend an extended time in Audrey Hall to get to know them and to sneakily make Miss Edwina and Anthony bond. But that's not what happened. Instead of being distracted by the beauty in front of him, be it Miss Edwina or Miss Kate, Anthony locked himself in his study, and that's where they were first made aware of Miss Eri Williams.

He did not like to call them nobodies; the Williams family were a respected family after all and did have the title of Earl of Essex in their name, but even if they were an old title, the ton never really saw the Williams family as one of them. They did smell of old money, but they were foreigners; they were from the colonies and had never really adapted to the accent of the ton. The Williams family, despite their attempt to hide from the public, stood out.

There were always talks about them. How the patriarch and matriarch were a formidable pair, how the heir apparent was a bewitching young man, and how the youngest of the family was a quiet, genteel doll. They had a good reputation; their family was not involved in any of the scandals that had made their way around the ton, but when the youngest suddenly fell ill and did not wake up for a whole season, there were more whispers. How poor, unassuming Miss Erica Josephine Williams did not seem to have an unhealthy constitution; why would she be in a comatose state? There were not any physicians that could identify what had befallen her. How the doll-like young lady just laid in her bed, unconscious and wasting away—but... But she woke up. 

And she woke up strange.

Benedict wanted to meet this infamous Miss Erica—rather Eri Williams—that had Eloise's approval, and Anthony twisted like a damn schoolboy, but Ben did not get the chance. She was motion sick; her brother explained to them as they arrived, and they let the young woman settle in a room. And when the whole household was woken up because Miss Williams was not in her room, but as the thunder raged and the rain poured, Benedict saw Miss Eri Williams in her brother's arms, Anthony's coat on her shoulders, as the man himself called out servants to assist them in her room.

He had never seen his brother cause a ruckus like this for someone else before. Well, he had for their family because heaven knows Anthony would move the sky for their family, but never to an outsider before—especially towards a woman.

The second oldest of the Bridgerton siblings did have a chance to meet the young woman, and it was an unexpected one. He was meeting Genevieve; Benedict wasn't aware of the reason why he kept on insisting on his presence on Gen when the woman had already said that she was not interested anymore. But Genevieve was fun; she understood Benedict on a level that none of his other lovers had before, and for a moment, he thought that maybe there was something more between the two of them. Loathe as he may to admit that Gen did not want to continue anymore of their dalliances, and for her, that was what it all were—dalliances. Accepting the moment for what it was, Benedict was leaving out of the modiste when a sight caught his eye.

She was radiant. And lovely. Her rich, deep brown skin radiates warmth, glowing with a natural luster that speaks of both vitality and grace. Her dark hair, thick and flowing, cascades effortlessly around her face, left wildly without any hint of style, yet it frames her features with fluidity. Her eyes, deep and expressive, gleam with a captivating intensity, mirroring the depth of her character. Her smile was sharp, cutting with its amusement as if she knew something they didn't and alluring everyone to come and see the unseen. The overall impression was one of timeless beauty, with each feature harmoniously complementing the other, radiating confidence and a quiet, compelling charm.

Benedict's hand ached with the need to capture this woman's beauty, and when she opened her mouth, he was pleasantly surprised with her humor.

He wouldn't admit this to anyone else, even deep in his cups, but he was disappointed to learn that she was Miss Eri Williams.

(Anthony's.)

Miss Eri Williams was the beautiful woman Benedict had the opportunity of seeing. Why didn't Eloise say that? Why weren't there men chasing her steps with flowers and poetry on their lips just to get this woman's attention? Where was she before? How come he'd never met her?

But as Benedict gave her Lady Mother Miss Williams' gifts and listened to her and her siblings gush about it, he realized that, strangely, the woman seemed like a good match for Anthony. She was a fire cracker; she never held back her words, and Anthony? The one so used to getting whatever and whoever he wanted was now frustratingly trying to win the woman's hand; his brother deserved it. Deserved her odd kindness even.

So when the family came home from the lake—Benedict was spending the time with his friends drinking the morning away—and heard from his mother how Miss Williams fell on the lake and Anthony saved him, Benedict was left blinking as he now found himself inside a pet shop of all places.

"Brother, why are we even here?" Benedict asked in exasperation. He needed to lie down in his bed and nap; he didn't need to be out in daylight, and his headache was assaulted by different sounds of animals in cages.

"Because Miss Williams, that reckless and demented fool almost lost her life just for a dog!" His older brother hissed.

Benedict needed a second to process that. "She saved a drowning dog. I am positive that all dogs know how to swim."

"No! She..." Benedict was fascinated as he watched his older brother grit his teeth to control his already fraying temper. "She wanted to pet a dog."

Before he even knew it, Benedict found himself laughing. Of course. Of course she would do that! Miss Eri seemed like the type to accidentally kill herself in want of petting a dog.

"So, you will buy her one, then?"

"I will do no such thing. A dog will probably get her in more trouble; I do not know how or why, but I just do—" Anthony stopped in front of a cage, where a cat (what the hell was that thing?) lay resting. "I will get this one."

He was horrified. "Surely not. That cat looked like it survived unknown horrors of the abyss! It looked like death itself come for it but turned around when it saw the damn thing!!"

"Dramatic, Benedict. It's wonderful. Knowing her, she would take a liking on this one."

"Anthony, it has a squished face! And its eyes are not even facing the same direction! It does not even have a tail! Are we certain that is even a cat?"

"Like I said, wonderful."

Clearly, Anthony had lost his mind, or maybe he knew Miss Eri more than he Benedict thought he did because a few days later, Anthony came home from visiting Miss Eri, and the widest smile lay innocently on his lips.

"She called me handsome."

Benedict smirked at the tone his brother used. He never really cared about his appearance before or what women thought of it. It was an undeniable fact that the Bridgerton family was gifted in that sector, and Benedict always used it to his advantage. But Anthony? He was aware of how his looks always got women's attention, but he never really thought that it was important.

"Aha, so mother was right to make you shave your sideburns because Miss Eri might think you a bear rather than a man," Benedict teased, but his brother was in too good a mood to notice it.

He dogged his steps as they arrived in the withdrawing room, and Anthony announced, "Mama, have we a portrait of Father?"

All activity ceased, and eyes fell on Anthony. Even Benedict's smirk froze as he processed his brother's words.

Out of the siblings, it was evident that Anthony took their father's death the worst. He was there; when he died, he saw it with his own eyes himself. And with a single-minded determination, he took on the responsibilities and duties their father left. Benedict privately thought that with the youngest, Anthony even stood as a father. The topic of their father was a sensitive one, especially with their mother, but the siblings have discussed it before, huddled in Collin's room and using a hushed voice so Anthony wouldn't hear it. It was an open wound for Anthony, one that never really closed, and it was Eloise that took notice of Anthony's avoidance of their father's portrait. First, it was just Anthony refusing to look at it until it got to the point that the man covered every portrait in Audrey Hall and took down the ones in their home here in London.

(Their mother didn't protest but Benedict knew she had one in her room.)

Everyone shared a look of worry as Anthony waited for an answer.

Of course, their mother recovered first.

"What for, dear?" There was a hint of worry in her tone.

"Miss Williams said that she might visit and want to see his portrait; it was a comment she threw around, but knowing her, she was serious about it."

Of course, it was about Miss Williams. The incandescent Miss Eri that just made Anthony do things. Benedict wanted to applaud for her. She was good. Did she know what she's doing to his brother?

Was Eri Williams aware that Anthony Bridgerton thought the world of her?

"And will she be visiting tomorrow?" Eloise curiously asked.

"No, she did not state when she would visit. But she will. She said so."

"There are portraits in my room, dear; if it is for her, then I will gladly show it to her."

Their mother did catch a liking to Miss Eri. It was not hard to like the woman. There was this energy surrounding her that just pulled people in and made them lost in her pace. And if rumors were right, she's to be a member of their family—if it was alright for their mother, for Anthony himself, then they would share their father's portrait with her.

"Ah—I will be attending Lady Danbury's soiree. I asked to escort Miss Williams, and she accepted my invitation."

"That is good news, Anthony!"

Miss Williams has a bizarre effect on the Bridgerton family. Daphne was more excited in her correspondence talking about Anthony and his progress with Miss Eri. Colin was confused; of course he always was. Benedict knew that there's not a lot going on in his head aside from snacks, but he's supportive of it. Francesca was glad to hear from Anthony that Miss Eri was gifted with the pianoforte and would like to exchange scores with her. Hyacinth just liked the concept of love, and Gregory was excited to meet another lady he could terrorize.

Even Eloise, someone who detests society's expectations of marriage towards a young lady of their age, once told Benedict that if Anthony fucked up and managed to lose Miss Eri, then she had her permission for Benedict himself to pursue the woman.

(It was a strange request from Eloise—but that's just how Eloise was.)

Benedict was sure that their mother was already planning a wedding, while Anthony? Anthony was of course the one affected the most; he got... Mellow, Benedict could not think of a better word to describe how Anthony was these days.

Unhinged? Totally. It looked like he'd follow Miss Eri's craziness and even support the woman. 

Oh, she was beautiful, but she was also insane.

Captivated? Yes. Anthony would fucking burn a building down if this courtship fails.

Love-sick? He was. He would bark if Miss Eri asked him to.

But mostly, Anthony seemed happy.

When Anthony got home from the soiree and grinning ear to ear, it was not a strange sight to the Bridgertons any longer. He escorted Miss Eri. They were sure that the woman said or did something that swept Anthony's feet off (it was evident that the woman was doing the sweeping instead of the opposite), and the family silently thanked the woman. 

Yes, Miss Eri's presence did have an unusual effect on the Bridgertons, even if they haven't been given the chance to truly meet the young lady yet.

But as the late night sky battled with itself and the quiet family was disturbed by the woman appearing on their entrance hall, She and her brother were soaked to the bone and looked as if the heavens chewed them and spat them out.

"Our carriage broke, sorry for disturbing your dinner," Miss Eri explained with an unimpressed voice, as if she were judging the fates for doing this to her. "Hello, Bridgertons. Hello, Lady Violet, this is Napoleon, your granddaughter."

And she proceeded to thrust the ugliest cat known to man's life into their mother's hand.

Only Miss Eri would name a cat to a French dictator currently trying to tear down Russia. Of course, she would.

(Benedict could already imagine Daphne furiously writing about how she missed the surely upcoming hilarious set of events when she heard about this.)

Chapter Text

Look, here's the thing: Napoleon may be the ugliest cat that has ever walked on this planet, but she was Eri's cat. She would carve a man's heart out with a spoon in daylight if anybody dared to hurt that poor, unfortunate feline. But her darling Napoleon, no matter how terrible she looked, was a delight in Eri's life, and she was his and his only to insult or insinuate that she's ugly. So, when she brought the cat to hers and Queen Charlotte's afternoon tea, and when the Queen's first words to Napoleon were, "Was it affected by the Black Plague?" Eri was beyond horrified. 

Queen Charlotte was Eri's patron saint; she may or may not be the villain of the original Bridgerton series, the Lex Luthor to Eri's Clark Kent, and she adored the older woman even if she wasn't sure she didn't want her dead—but she has no right to insult Napoleon straight in her face, even if she's the Queen of England herself. 

(Actually, thinking about that fact, maybe Queen Charlotte has the right to insult anyone to their face? She's the queen after all.)

Eri couldn't exact any kind of revenge because, like what her brother said, regicide was a crime, and so was treason at that; so she did the best next thing. 

"Is that not a bit excessive, sister?" Elijah asked at her side, glancing at the sleeping Napoleon on her sister's lap.

"Not at all," she replied with a shark-like smile.

Eri and Elijah went to the town's marketplace for the cat collar she commissioned for her death-defying pet. The collar was more like a necklace, to be honest, since its chain was made from white gold (she made sure that Napoleon wouldn't be having an allergic reaction to it first), and she chose to put some diamond stones dangling from it, since the people of the ton seemed to be obsessed with their diamonds. It was the only thing Eri could do to distract the people from Napoleon's squished face. Surely, they would focus more on her collar and think Eri eccentric for putting something expensive on a cat than the poor cat's disfigured face?

Eri could survive people insulting her to her face, but Napoleon did not deserve any of their harsh but true comments. The cat has had enough!

As expected of London weather, there was a downpour all of a sudden and—bam!

The occupants of the carriage flew out of their seats as their vehicle lurched on the road, then it stopped.

"What—" 

Elijah steadied Eri and helped pick Napoleon for her as the coachman knocked on the carriage's door and yelled, "Apologies for that, Mr. Williams, Miss Williams. One of the carriage's wheels snapped because I was not able to notice the broken cobblestone from this downpour."

"It is not your fault, Stiltson," Elijah replied to the harried coachman. "Is there anything I could do to help you fix the wheel?"

"It snapped, Mr. Williams. I reckon it needs a replacement."

"Where would we even find something to replace that? In this weather?" Eri asked from her seat.

It was already in the middle of the night; if anything, people were already in their homes and having a nice plate of warm dinner to combat the cold. 

"Where are we, might I ask?" Elijah piped up.

"Grosvenor Square in Mayfair, London, Mr. Williams."

Elijah hummed, and Eri didn't like the sound of that.

The Plot™ was a bitch, Eri thought.

Look, it's not normal for there to be a broken cobblestone in the middle of fucking London that would irreparably damage their wheel and render their carriage useless. Add it to the fact they had this kind of event happen just in Grosvenor Square, where the protagonist lived—Eri knew that this was the work of The Plot™.

This was the perfect setting for the "stuck in the cabin" trope and the torrential weather was set for the "sharing body heat" trope. But thank fuck that life still seems to pity Eri.

Yes, the Williams siblings were stuck in the Bridgerton home for the time being because the rain wasn't showing a sign of abating, and Violet Bridgerton insisted they stay the night, but that didn't mean that they would be forced on that trip. Because they were provided clean and empty rooms to use and dry clothing to borrow for the night. Even if this was the working of The Plot™, Eri was saved from those tropes because she's not the protagonist of this series. HAH! Take that!

But that doesn't necessarily mean that she could escape the Bridgertons. 

Ugh.

"So, how are you feeling, Miss Williams?" 

After they were done with assigning rooms and the borrowing of clothes, the women settled in the drawing room with warm tea and biscuits (while the men were in Anthony's study with whatever the fuck they chose to drink at this time of the night), and there was a five full minutes of silence before Francesca Bridgerton' decided enough was enough, and that was her awkward way of breaking it, and Eri swore right then and there that she's her favorite Bridgerton.

"I am feeling fine, Miss Bridgerton. I'm sure my brother has already spoken of his gratitude for your family's generosity in letting us seek shelter for the night; still, I want to thank you for it. And for lending me this dress." She gestured at herself. Francesca was her size and was thankful for the younger girl letting her borrow a dress.

The younger girl blushed, and oh, she's a pretty one, as expected of the patented Bridgerton genes. 

"Please feel free to address me as Francesca."

"Then, just call me—"

"Hyacinth, I am only Hyacinth and not Miss Bridgerton," the youngest girl in the room insisted making her mother absentmindedly—Violet and her littlest son Gregory was occupied with petting Napoleon, while Eloise was having a stare off with the cat; she seemed to be so fascinated with her—chided her like it was second nature. A beat passed before their group focused back on the preening cat.

That only made Eri smile at her enthusiasm. "Then, I will do so."

"Is it true that you thought Anthony was a grouch?"

"Hyacinth!" Francesca lightly scolded in her mother's stead.

"Is he not?" She shot back which made Hyacinth burst out in giggles.

"Yes, he was a grouch," the girl agreed before she settled down. There was a confused frown on her cute face. "But lately Anthony was acting strange."

"Strange how?"

"I saw him smiling to himself, and he was completely alone." The girl paused. "It was a horrifying look."

"Hyacinth!" 

This child was a blast! Eri grinned at the girl and said, "Maybe your brother was just thinking of a pretty woman; that's why he was smiling in his lonesomeness."

Miss Edwina Sharma, probably.

"Oh, that must be it!" Hyacinth exclaimed as if this was a revelation. "It was all because of you, Miss Williams."

Eri nodded magnanimously. It was because of her wingman-ing strategies. She did introduce Anthony to Miss Edwina. Ha! It was partly because of her that Anthony was smiling like an idiot.

She wanted to pat herself on the back.

"Uh, Miss Williams, if you do not mind me asking," Francesca started with a curious smile. "How do you find my brother?"

Now, that was a loaded question. Eri thought back on the times she'd spent with the viscount. Despite their introduction, which made Eri think that he was nothing but a rude man, their relationship now was quite something she couldn't and refused to name. It was easy to be with the man yet complex. He was her wingman. His best dude with her metaphorical balls, and that's just that. Even if she had these important roles, she was nothing but a side character to this protagonist.

It was different when she was with Anthony Bridgerton. Unknowingly, she dug something from his depths that made him the man that she'd willingly spend her time with—which quite a few people managed to accomplish when Eri would always choose her own company.

Anthony Bridgerton, Eri was starting to learn, was a delight.

"He's fine, I guess." She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, and both Bridgertons gave her a look of disbelief.

"Just fine?" Hyacinth insisted.

"Okay, like—if the dead decided to crawl out of their graves and start an apocalypse tomorrow, Anthony would be one of the people I would willingly bash an undead's head with a shovel for, ignoring the blood and gore spraying on my face and dress," she tried to explain.

The two girls quieted down as they processed her words, and Eri picked up her cup and sipped her tea. She grimaced and added another cube of sugar.

"That sounds... romantic," Francesca quietly commented with Hyacinth's contented sigh.

Eri nodded, agreeing with her. Bromance was still romance, no matter what angle you look at it.

"You have a lovely family," Eri commented.

It was way past midnight, and she couldn't seem to find her sleep. So, she got up from her bed, walked out of her room, and sought the Bridgerton's library to find a book to silence her busy mind. She did find the library and the owner occupying the nook below the wide set of windows, holding a book in his hand.

"Eri—" Anthony shot up from his seat. He was looking at her in surprise before it turned into worry. "Is everything alright? Is there something ailing you?"

The woman padded towards him and took a seat, taking the man's book and looking at what he was reading. It was a collection of poems—surprising; Eri thought he was a philistine.

"I just can't sleep, don't worry," she told him.

After a moment, Anthony sat next to her. "Thank you."

"For what?" 

"For what you said about my family, I am aware that they could be a bit much."

"They're lovely," Eri repeated, giving his book back to him to focus on the man. "Violet and Gregory adored Napoleon; Eloise, on the other hand, thought she was a scientific wonder. Francesca was a quiet girl, and Hyacinth was loud, but they were both adorably curious. Colin offered snacks earlier, and Benedict told me again that I look good in blue... an odd bunch, but lovely all the same."

There was a fond smile on Anthony's lips as he listened to her. Eri was getting used to his smiles, and sometimes she thought it was so rewarding to see this grumpy man smile because of her.

"Your brother, on the other hand, was—" Anthony thought on the proper word to describe Elijah. "Can I say terrifying?"

Eri cackled at that. It was true! Elijah was terrifying, really! Eri didn't know why, but she's the only one that could see how terrifying Elijah really was behind that mild-mannered facade of his!

(The Williams family were filled with actresses and actors that could fool even the greatest pretenders of the ton!)

And now, Anthony can see it too!

"He was all smiles all evening, yet I feel like he wanted to dig me a grave," Anthony mused, a bit of a lackadaisical reaction for someone talking about his possible death at the hands of Eri's silently charming brother.

"Did you offend him?" She excitedly asked.

"Of course not!" He exclaimed, affronted. "I acted on my best behavior; I was a gracious host. Mr. Williams was a gracious guest too, but I just have this unbidden thought that he would commit violence if I said or did something wrong... He is very protective of you."

A smile found its way on Eri's lips. "Yeah, he is."

Rain poured harder, providing a background noise for the sudden silence that enveloped the two of them.

Slowly, but confidently, Anthony reached for the stray piece of hair in her face and tucked it behind her ear.

"I could find myself getting used to a night like this, Eri," he murmured. "In the quietness of my library, the moon as our only source of light, listening to the rain as we listen to each other's thoughts—can you find it in yourself to allow me to hold you?"

There was an emotion in his eyes, a tenderness that made Eri's heart ache.

Even Eri could see that it was terribly improper. They secreted themselves alone in the dark of the library while everyone in the house was asleep. Eri was in her shift, and her hair was falling down her back—something no gentleman should see, she learned from Shae—and Anthony was in his nightclothes. She shouldn't. They shouldn't.

"Of course." 

She hid her face in the crook of his neck as the man engulfed her in a warm embrace, his hands tracing slow circles at her back and his face buried in her hair.

Bros hug, Eri tried to convince herself. Bro's certainly do these kinds of things, she added.

"Sometimes, there's a stray thought in my mind telling me that our paths were not supposed to cross." Anthony pulled back to look down at her.

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "But it seemed so right to have you here in my arms."

She smiled, content yet laced with grief over something she could never have. "Just like what I've told you before, you were a bother that kept on barging into my life."

Anthony, instead of being offended, chuckled at that. "Then, I am glad that I kept on bothering you, Eri. And I will do so for the rest of our lives."

"... Sure."

Chapter Text

When Eri woke up that morning, the house was in an uproar. Packages of gifts and souvenirs arrived, yet the senders weren't there. Their parents had encountered a problem in their business venture back in America that made them unable to come home. Their father wrote them apologies for being unable to join them this season and would hopefully be back in England before the holidays. As part of his apology, they sent their souvenirs early and penned for them to always take care and to not worry for their sakes; the business problem would hopefully be resolved soon.

"P.S. Elijah, ensure your sister's conduct remains 'lawful' upon our return," Elijah read out loud, giving stress on the word 'lawful.' He folded the letter back to its original state and placed it back in its envelope before giving Eri a look. "We need to establish rules for this, sister."

"Boo! You killjoy!"

"I am not killing any joy, if I parsed that right, but I am afraid that you might be with your gun," he shot back.

Said gun did wonders to uplift Eri's already perfect morning. Eri's gift was a single-action six-shot revolver that she didn't know the exact name of, but she was sure that it was a Colt. It has no supporting structure around the revolving cylinder, making them less robust than that of modeled colts in this time and age, and it just fits Eri's hand perfectly. What truly made Eri squeal when she saw the gun was that its butt has carvings of lilacs and the handle has small glittering emeralds embedded in it. The emeralds dug comfortably in Eri's hand; she gripped it, and it felt just right.

It was cute; it was deadly—Eri wanted to hunt down the Easter Bunny and shoot it right then and there.

(She sounds like a maniac.)

"First rule, you cannot challenge gentlemen in a duel because they uttered something that annoyed you," Elijah loudly said, interrupting her from her posing like she's in some kind of a Mexican standoff.

Eri pouted. "What if they offended me?"

"... Still weigh if it is enough of a cost in exchange for a life."

She paused and pondered about that. Yeah, a lot of these oldies offend her, and if she killed every last one of them, it'll make Eri a serial killer of some kind. Besides, this was a historical romance setting; she'd change the genre if she did that. And it's not like Eri wanted to kill a man in cold blood; that's disgusting, and she still has her morals, no matter how questionable it sometimes may seem.

"I will not shoot any vital organs whatsoever; I will only draw blood," she swore; in that way, she had ensured her victory in her imagined duel.

Elijah gave him an exasperated look.

"... This is the most I can manage at this point," he conceded with a nod.

"Yeah, yeah, what else?" She twirled her gun in her fingers, totally showing off her skills to Elijah, who seemed reluctantly impressed and mentally questioned why their parents even considered Eri's wish for a gun.

"Avoid boasting of your murder weapon to polite society."

"Boo!" Eri again booed her brother. "I was planning to show it off to Anthony."

Elijah raised an eyebrow at that, and Eri paused.

Weird. Fucking weird. Why would she say that? Why was she even thinking of showing off her glittering gun to Anthony Bridgerton of all people? These days, she's thinking of herself as the man's bestie, but she really wasn't. Her plan was that after all of this matchmaking hullabaloo, she'd pack up and bounce—avoid society and enjoy her rich girl money.

Oh no!

(Insert audible gasp here.)

Oh fucking hell no! Was she... Becoming attached?!

Ew.

Ew, ew, ew, ugh!

'Okay, Eri, let's backtrack for a second. No need to panic,' she told herself and started her countdown of a hundred.

"Eri, you appear to be unwell. Let us sit down for a second."

Elijah held Eri, taking her gun away from her and guiding her to take a seat. Her brother massaged her hands, gently applying pressure and grounding Eri away from her thoughts. He even signaled Shae to give her a glass of water that she immediately drank as her throat suddenly felt like it dried up.

"—It is a wonderful morning we are having; the sun is shining up high, and you told me that your éclairs were perfect—"

Eri stopped Elijah's soothing rambling. "Elijah, am I going crazy?"

"...What gave you that conclusion?"

She took a deep breath, finally deciding that it was time to say her feelings out loud before she'd gone crazy and went on a killing spree to avoid her—disgusting, what the fuck—feelings.

"I..." Deep breaths. "I have been thinking of Anthony more and more."

Elijah, the most darling-est brother that he was, processed her words. For a second, he looked like he wanted to use her gun to blast his brains out and escape this mushy conversation, but being the darling-est that he was, he decided against it, lest her sister go truly mad.

"Alright. And why does that bother you?"

"Why shouldn't it bother me?" She asked back, taking her hands away from him and flinging it dramatically. "He's like my dude, my wingman-ee, the protagonist; he's already barging in on my life, which I reluctantly let him, and now he decided to occupy a corner in my mind like some kind of brain-eating amoeba. Yes, he's Fiyero, but should I hold space for that?"

"You still manage to make me wonder if we are even speaking the same language, sister."

Fair. Okay. That was—she knew she wasn't making sense to these people most of the time, but Elijah could parse through her word vomit.

"In summary, I don't think it's healthy for me to think of Anthony this often." She decided to be generous and translate for him herself.

"Oh," Elijah muttered, her brows furrowing as he peered at her as if she's some complicated puzzle. "Is there a dispute between you and the viscount? Did he engage in any inappropriate behavior during our visit?"

Inappropriate? Nah. Totes no. It kinda seems like it; after all, they were unchaperoned, in their night clothes, and hugging in a dark library, but nah—HAHA, nothing inappropriate there. Friends totally hug. Bros embrace bros platonically.

"No and no," she half-lied with a straight face.

"Then why does thinking of him make you react like this?"

"I don't know, okay? I don't know. That's why I am lowering myself and seeking your counsel. You're older than me after all, and maybe have a lot more insight about this." Elijah has a lot of friends. Surely, he'd encountered something like her problem (was it even a problem? Or was Eri just making a big deal out of this?) before with his dude or gal friends.

He pinched the bridge of his nose to somehow combat an incoming headache, to which Eri wanted to laugh because his headache was already sitting at his side. "Alright, sister. From my perspective, it is normal for you to have this moment; it is a natural progression of your relationship with the viscount."

Was it?

Eri had a fuckton of friends in her first life, and she didn't encounter something like this before. Was it because of the difference in timeline and modernity?

(At the back of Eri's mind, a part which no wrinkles could be seen: it insisted that Anthony was something more than a friend.)

With a confused scrunch in Eri's nose, she nodded slowly. "Okay... I'm not going crazy, then."

"Of course, you are not," he reassured with a patented genteel smile that told Eris her brother was telling a bullshit, and then he tilted his head curiously. "Have you maybe talked to Lord Bridgerton about these... conflicting feelings of yours?"

"Should I?"

"In my experience, good communication is the key to a healthy relationship. You should share your fears with him; he is, after all, your partner."

Yep, he's her partner all right. Business partners, to be exact; even if Eri's not getting any kind of monetary payment in this exhausting venture.

The wingman to the wingman-ee.

"I may not approve of the Viscount, but you hold him in high regard. I do not appreciate that you are reacting this way because of him."

She peered at her brother with an amused grin. "You don't like him? Why?"

"He could be surpassed."

Eri snorted. Since when did her brother become a snob? And really, Anthony Bridgerton was the protagonist; Eri doubted that she could find a better man—to matchmake—than him.

"I should tell him my concerns, you say?"

"You should."

Hm... And how would that conversation sound exactly? "Stop being a freeloader in my brain, Anthony, because I don't think I'm passing the Bechdel Test in my brain anymore. You are the weakness of my feminism."

Even coming from her, that sounds completely ridiculous, and maybe it would feed the man's ego that she's constantly thinking of him like he's a piece of eclair.

(Did Eri seriously considered Anthony a snack? Fuck you, brain! Try to cooperate, will 'ya?!)

Ugh.

But—oh. 

Oh, she got it! She'd just approach Anthony and swear that she'd finally do her matchmaking duties to make the story proceed to its happy ending. She'd also stoop to lower herself to apologize for slacking off. She did promise the man to find his happiness for him, after all. And ah—the last time the two protagonists were in the same room, Eri unconsciously ruined their exposure because she had to run away from Queen Charlotte, and she took the male lead with her and away from the female lead herself.

"Shall I invite him to dinner then? I can tell Shae to arrange a dinner outside the garden so I can talk to him. Just the two of us." 

"No, Eri, that will not happen!" Elijah immediately objected, and she raised an eyebrow at him because what the fuck was that? "An unwed lady never invites a gentleman, may he be her suitor or her intended, to dinner."

"Oh, so we don't do that here?"

"Yes, we don't do that here," he deadpanned. "There will be a promenade of the ton this coming Saturday, and from there, you shall seek his audience, chaperoned, sister."

"Geez, who spat on your morning tea?" Eri grumbled but let the matter go before she realized his words. "I hate, no, despise promenades!"

"Then, you shall suffer with me as your chaperone. You loathe the sun, and I... disapprove of the viscount. That is fair, do you not think so?"

Eri contemplated her gun. "Mother and father will cry if I commit fratricide, no?"

"Buckets of tears."

"How about maiming but still having an assurance of living if, if, the physician arrived in time?"

"Frustrated fratricide, dear sister."

"Hmm, shame."

"Third rule for your gun: no using it as a threat towards family members."

"Mother should've given you killjoy as a second name!"

(She just hoped that the Sharmas would also be in that promenade; after talking to Anthony, she wouldn't lightly nudge him to Miss Edwina. At this point she's willing to fucking push the man towards her and be done with this mess.)

Chapter Text

Eri wanted to know just who on their right mind would invite the Queen of England herself on a picnic in this blistering weather? It was a beautiful weather to be exact, with a picturesque blue sky and all, but for Eri who had grown spoiled on her stay here and avoided the sun at all cost (she always, ALWAYS, fail due to Elijah), she wasn't exactly keen on the weather. 

The ton was gathered at Painshill Park where Eri almost drowned last time. Her brother made clear that under no circumstances would she approach the lake or even think of having a surprise swim this afternoon. Eri's not exactly crazy enough to swim in her dress, she was wearing one of her favorites because she thought that Celadon green complimented her skin color very well and she felt pretty in it, sue her!

But back to the topic—who on earth would invite Queen Charlotte to these kinds of events? The Queen was wearing one of her signature styled gowns and that's not exactly good for this kind of weather. Everyone knew that she preferred elaborate fashioned gowns. Did they want her to die of heat stroke? Did they want her to plainly suffer? 

God, these people give no consideration to their Queen's fashion choices!

(But thinking on it, Lottie prolly just heard that the ton would be having a picnic and invited herself—she didn't need an invite when she's the fucking Queen of England herself. Who would question her presence in this London's finest's gathering? Only Eri.)

"How is your Viscount?" The Queen asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

Your Viscount, she says as if Anthony Bridgerton was hers. Pah.

"I haven't seen him yet," she answered. "Shall I look for Lady Bridgerton and tell her that you're concerned about her son?" 

The Queen's lips twitched. "Impertinent."

Eri in return gave her a cheeky grin. She knew that deep, deep, deep, deep down, Queen Charlotte liked her. There must be a reason why she always sought her presence out in every gathering of the ton. The older lady knew that she'd be here, hard not to be when the Queen ordered her to attend every gathering of the season, and she always made sure to order her guards to look for her. Eri always hide from the total diva herself but this time, she didn't quite managed to do it as the guards spotted her before she could hide or jump on the lake and they basically marched her to the Queen. It was beyond embarrassing really, everyone watched as Eri was marched towards the royal as if she committed some crime against the Queen or like a wayward duckling being escorted to her mother duck because she's stubborn and got lost in the lake.

"You once conveyed that you are not interested in pursuing marriage," Queen Charlotte suddenly said. 

There was wariness as Eri looked at the older woman. Okay... What the fuck was she on about? Why that topic all of a sudden?

"I am still not interested in marriage," she said slowly.

After a beat, the Queen replied, "how peculiar."

"How so?" 

"I'm aware of the rumors circulating about your relationship with the Viscount. However, I must confess, you conveyed that you are not interested in marriage yet why are you with him?"

Eri took a step back.

What rumors?! Had... Had Lady Whistledown published an article about her and Anthony Bridgerton or something? Does she need to ask Shae to gather her latest publications for her to read the apparent rumors about her and the Viscount? Was the ton talking about her and Anthony behind their backs? Oh my god—was Eri's friendship with Anthony compromise his relationship with Edwina?

She inwardly gasped. She didn't want to be the other woman. She didn't want to be some kind of a side chick especially not to Anthony of all people—their relationship was built on pure business.

She was feeling so lost at the moment that it must've shown on her face because there was genuine amusement in the Queen as she Witch-Of-The-West-cackled.

"I am dealing with an imbecile."

"Hey!" She immediately protested even though she didn't know why the Queen said that.

Instead of saying anything why she brought that comment down, Queen Charlotte pointed at something.

"Go to your Viscount," she ordered. "And fix your mess yourself."

Eri pouted and grumbled as she absentmindedly headed to the direction she pointed out. Why was that old woman so mean? Did she really need to cackle at her face and made her feel like she's missing something? Eri should be in on the joke if it involves her. Damn, Queen Charlotte, her patron saint! She should share these jokes with Eri because they're kind of like besties at these point—even if Eri felt like the Queen just saw her as her daily dose of entertaining telenovela.

And where was Anthony anyway?! She was here because she wanted to talk to her main dude about doing her duty well and being the best wingman there was! She couldn't be sidetracked by Queen Charlotte and her awesome wigs!

Eri continued walking, avoiding people that looked like they have the intention to talk to her and acted as if she knew where she was heading and she had an important business. They all saw that she just got out of talking to the Queen, maybe they'd think that Lottie ordered her to do something for her.

(Even if she did order Eri to go to her Viscount and fix her mess.)

Eri's steps slowed as she saw the familiar visage of the ever handsome Anthony Bridgerton near the lake talking to someone and an unconscious grin pulled in her lips as she saw him.

Oh, there's her Viscount alright.

She was about to excitedly (why?!) call for him when she realized that he was talking to someone. Not just someone someone, but that someone was one Edwina Sharma, his leading lady. They were talking and smiling at each other, Anthony had one of his smiles that he always wore when Eri said something that he found strange yet endearing. It looked fond. Soft. And it reaches his eyes just the right way that this particular smile made him look like the gentle and strangely patient lead that he really was beyond that grumpy exterior.

It was odd seeing him use that smile when he's talking to Edwina

That smile was for Eri's. It was for her.

(It was hers, a voice in her mind taunted.)

Anthony Bridgerton and Edwina Sharma were talking. Conversing. Laughing. Smiling at each other without the need for Eri's interference.

Was this the inevitable work of The Plot™?

Eri's smiled turned into a frown the longer she stared.

This wasn't right. She was supposed to be happy for her bro because he's interacting with Edwina without the need for her. The male and female lead were having their moment without their wingman pushing them together.

She's supposed to be happy.

Then why...?

Oh.

Of course.

Eri contemplated the bejewelled gun strapped at her thigh. She wanted to use it at herself because how dare her feel jealous of something that was supposed to happen anyway? She wanted to use it at Anthony because how dare him make her feel this way, you fucking handsomest playboy of Regency Era—

Eri liked Anthony.

She genuinely, truly liked him to the point of wanting to kiss the man's stupidly perfect face.

It was outrageous.

It was ridiculous.

If her life was a novel, surely her readers would think her an idiot for liking the protagonist when she's only a side character. She had no right, how dare her feel such things? She was the male lead's matchmaker. The Wingman.

She wasn't supposed to like him.

It was a well known fact that you're not supposed to like your clients, that's a disaster waiting to happen and frankly, it was quite unprofessional.

It was at this simple moment that Eri realized that she had fallen in l... like to one Anthony Bridgerton. 

(Out of pure stubbornness, she refused to think of the word "love". Nuh-huh. This was enough of a revelation for Eri, considering love would not happen today.)

In the back of Eri's mind, there was a red-haired Scottish man shaking his head at her and he said, "yer a fecking idiot, lass." As to the identity of this Scott? Eri has no idea why the fuck her mind supplied that scene but she agreed, she's a fecking idiot.

There's no way this was happening. Anthony Bridgerton might be played by Jonathan Bailey but he wasn't Fiyero Tigelaar. He was so far from her charming dancing and singing darling that Eri couldn't believe she's looking at him right now and thinking, 'might as well'.

But surely, surely The Plot™ would forgive her for stealing this from Anthony's rightful female lead, Miss Edwina Sharma? 

She was a woman of pure impulse. Shae always seem to be so disappointed by her impulsitivity but... ah, fuck it—

Eri marched to Anthony.

"Miss Williams, we were just talking about you—"

She ignored what Edwina was saying and faced Anthony, grabbed his cravat and pulled him down, her lips meeting with his.

She kissed, and kissed and kissed. 

And then, he held her cheeks and kissed back.

She love Anthony.

Eri didn't know why but maybe it was because he could never truly understand her yet he tried and tried. Maybe it was because even though he found Eri offensive, Anthony still stayed to listen to her ramblings and try to parse through all that word vomit. Maybe it was because she was pleasantly surprised that he really was charming despite their first interaction. Maybe it was because he made it his habit to send her lilacs and ribbons every day and a small written note wishing her to have an excellent morning. Maybe it was because when she jokingly said that she liked to see a portrait of his father, he did share it to her anyway. Maybe it was because he gave her Napoleon and he treasured that ugly cat with her.

Maybe it was because he looked at Eri and through her devil may care attitude, he understood that every little thing mattered to her and just—

(Kissing him now, she feels like dying.)

When Eri pulled back and opened her eyes, she wanted to fucking cry.

"... I'm sorry."

She ran away.

(Queen Charlotte's cackle rang through the scandalized silence.)

Chapter Text

He once thought that he could conquer the world.

He was, admittedly, a foolish young man. He had never once considered that tragedy would soon strike his family. But how could he? They were happy. He has his siblings at his side; his parents were in love with each other. He was never for tales and songs, but his father and mother proved the existence of love every day, and he knew even at that time how rare such a thing was for their society.

So, he thought himself infallible from misery.

But as was proven, even the happiest would inevitably fall to sorrow.

And he tried. He tried to fill in the void that was brought by the cataclysmic passing of his father. But he knew in himself that whatever it was that he did, it was never enough as days, weeks, months, and years had passed—there was a parasite that rooted itself in his chest and continued to siphon whatever shred of happiness he scrounged up.

He buried himself with his vices, with the alcohol that burned, with the work that numbed him, and with the feeling of lust that proved how miserable he was deep inside and that he was running out of time.

Yet.

Yet.

"Do you sing?" she asked.

She then sighed and commented, "That's a disappointment."

Miss Erica Josephine Williams was a passing comment from his mother after she'd seen his list and all the crossed-out names in it. She was supposed to be the last shot before he threw up his hands in surrender and just chose whoever it was that the queen deemed as her diamond. He heard the word "unwed" from his mother's mouth, and he focused on that, unhearing how she continued and told him that she had been long asleep from an accident.

He found her... bizarre—that was not an ample word to describe her. She was offensive in her words, preposterous from her disregard of society, absurd with the way she never hid her dislike of him, and ludicrous that she dared to leave and dismiss him as if he was some common man and not a titled aristocrat.

She must have infected him with her insanity because he continued seeking her out, exposing himself to this strange woman who rejected his invitation, showing him her ankles as if it did not make him swoon inside as if he were some debutante not yet jaded by the world, and making him see how offensively beautiful the world was with this strange woman.

Anthony Bridgerton loves Eri Williams.

(Indisputably.)

(Unequivocally.)

(Beyond the shadow of a doubt.)

He loved her, and it was the easiest thing he'd ever done.

Her name was the sweetest of nectar on his tongue; her smiles stayed with him as his last thought for the night before he went to sleep. Just being her made Anthony want to kneel down and beg for her to even consider him as her man.

He courted her with flowers, letters, that ugly cat, and the silent promise that he would give her anything she would ever ask, but it seemed that he was the one who was being charmed at every turn.

What was it with Eri Williams that made Anthony wish that he could pause the world and just look at her?

How was it possible for an infuriatingly lovely woman to snatch his heart as if she were a mischievous thief?

Eri Williams was dangerous for making him feel this shamelessly in love without telling Anthony that she would make him so.

"What are your plans for the wedding?" was Benedict's first question to him when the family went home from their promenade.

"What wedding?" Anthony asked, sitting in his study with thoughts running rampant in his head.

"Your wedding with Miss Eri," his brother slowly said as if he were simple.

He paused and shook his head. "There is no wedding."

Benedict barked a laugh. "Don't try to be funny now, Ant. The woman grabbed you and kissed you for all the town to see! The Queen was there! What do you mean there is no wedding? Has Miss Eri's kiss rendered you stupid?"

He glared at Benedict. Anthony admits that the kiss did render him stupid. Of course, Eri Williams would prove herself time and time again how unpredictable she was by kissing him in front of everyone and, oh, how soft her lips were. How delectable it was and made Anthony want to—

He cleared his throat. "Eri and I have never been at a point to discuss marriage. I am content to simply court her and wait for her, but..."

"But what?" Benedict coaxed.

Anthony did not understand what it was, but when she pulled away from their kiss, she looked so devastated.

Anthony had once seen her in that state before, but she was sick at that time and—

"I remembered that I died on a night just like this," she whispered a confession.

It scared Anthony that such a joyous moment, that her kissing him, gave her that look from that horrible and terrifying night.

"There is something wrong," 'she apologized,' were the unspoken words.

Benedict stared at him and said, "You must know, by now, Daphne is probably preparing her carriage to attend your wedding, and Mother is already making an invitation list."

He managed to chuckle at that. "Then tell them that there wouldn't be a wedding until her parents are here to give us their blessing and, more importantly, until Eri says she wants one."

Tomorrow, Anthony would talk to Eri and ask her what's wrong.

And that tomorrow, her maid would shake her head and tell him that she wasn't accepting any visitors because she was feeling under the weather.

The next tomorrow, Anthony would come seeking an audience with her, and her maid would tell the same thing.

The third tomorrow, Anthony, sleep-deprived, would be at her doorstep early in the morning, and her maid would smile apologetically.

The fourth tomorrow, out of his mind, wait for her all morning only for Shae to call him Viscount and tell him that she still wasn't feeling well.

The fifth tomorrow, his mother would ask him about Eri, and he would tell her that he hadn't seen her.

The sixth tomorrow, her brother would welcome him but tell him that she refused to see him, but as he was walking out of the Williams' estate, he caught a glimpse of her lilacs in a vase with her sage green ribbon sitting innocuously in her window.

The seventh tomorrow, Anthony stayed in his home and lost his mind.

That night, he acted like a common criminal and climbed on her window.

"Eri," he called out to the woman lounging on her bed.

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST." 

When Anthony woke up, Eri was hovering over him and praying in Latin. 

"Pater Noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum—" she paused and saw him staring blearily at her. The woman lunged at him and embraced Anthony. "Why did you faint?!"

"... You threw your leather-bound book at my head."

She pulled away and let him sit up. "... Yeah. Sorry for that. In my defense, you deserved it for sneaking in here; I thought I was about to get killed."

"I apologize for scaring you."

Silence then blanketed them as they sat on her carpeted floor, Eri refusing to look at him while Anthony gazing at her as if a man in drought and seeing his oasis.

"Why..." He trailed off.

There was a reason why he was here. He wanted to ask her why she had been ignoring him and refusing to see him. Why was she depriving him of his presence? Why she kissed him and had the need to apologize for it.

Instead, Anthony asked, "Are you feeling well now?"

Eri met his eyes, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Of course I'm feeling well; why would you even ask—oh."

Oh. It seemed that she only used that as an excuse to not see him.

"... Did I do something that made you loathe my presence so?" There was heartbreak in his tone, a sense of desperation that made him have the need to understand what it was with him that had Eri avoiding him like this.

"No, no, no—" she shook her hands and her head as if wanting to reassure him with her words and action that he was assuming wrong. "You didn't do anything! And I... I don't loathe your presence! That is an over-exaggeration and... And..."

Eri's words failed her.

Anthony reached out and then paused, his hand hovering over her hands to soothe her; instead, he took it back and held his desperation in a knuckled grip. He would never push her over anything yet—

"But why, Eri?" he asked.

She heaved a deep sigh. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Done what?" 

"Kissed you."

Eri throwing a leather-bound book at his head that made him faint was less painful than this.

"... Did it repulse you?" 

"Yes—No! I mean... Yes, it's..." Eri bit her lip, hesitating, and Anthony thought that looked like it hurt. She rolled her shoulders, her back straightened, and determination seeped in her eyes.

"Anthony Bridgerton, I'm sorry for kissing you. I shouldn't have done that. And I would never do it again. I'm sorry for ruining your chances with Miss Edwina—"

Hmm?

"—It was wrong of me to kiss you in front of her. If you want to, I will write her a letter for kissing her man like that—"

Hmm?

"—Better yet, I'll go talk to her in person and tell her that you didn't want me like that—"

Hmm?

"—that she's the only woman in your life—"

Hmm?

"—and beg her to forgive you because you are unaware of my shameful feelings towards you because I'm supposed to be helping you woo her—"

Hmm?

"—and that she should continue your wedding next month—"

What was she saying?

Anthony felt like each word that came out of her mouth was bludgeoning his head.

He placed his palm over her lips and closed her mouth to stop her.

"Eri, love, what the fuck are you talking about?!" He asked, worried, panicked, and in hysterics.

Clarity found Anthony, and suddenly he remembered her insistence on him and Miss Edwina interacting with each other.

"I find myself curious; have you met the Diamond yet? Miss Idina—"

"Edwina."

"—Edwina Sharma?"

"And where does she stand on your wife scale?" 

"If she's perfect, then why aren't you with her now?" 

"Have you met dear Anthony yet? Very grumpy but much more handsome, no? You'd look good together."

"By the way! Any updates with Miss Edwina?"

"Haven't you been exchanging letters with her or something? To ask her if she's doing well or getting to know her."

"I'm going to take you back to Miss Edwina."

"Do I have to spell it out for you? You must spend time with her and bond, you know?"

"Don't worry, Anthony. I'll find you your happiness."

"... I'm supposed to be helping you woo her..."

Anthony slowly let go of her as her words rang clear in his mind. He was an imbecile. A stupid fool.

He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it.

"... Did you just call me 'love'?" There was wariness and hope in her voice. "Why?" 

"Because I love—"

A knock.

Eri shot him a panicked look, gesturing at the sight of her in her nightclothes, him in her room, and the two of them sitting so closely—

Anthony stood up and immediately opened her window to climb out of her room. The last sight of Eri he had for the night was her standing alone in her room, lost and confused.

Chapter Text

Some would say that Mister Elijah Walter Williams is a doting brother, and he wouldn't correct that assumption because it was the truth.

From the moment Erica Josephine Williams was born and placed by their mother in his arms for him to first look at and carry his sister, he knew in the deepest cavern of his heart that he would dedicate his life for his sister's happiness. It might sound odd for a child to have that thinking but it was a truth that Elijah had long accepted and lived by.

Before Erica's long sleep, their relationship had always been close with each other. Erica had never been a rambunctious child yet she was curious and filled with optimism. She grew up to be a demure and genteel young lady and often reassured her brother that they wouldn't have any problems when she debuted.

Yet when Erica debuted, she remained on her lonesome, preferring the company of her books and her passion for anything related to equestrian.

Elijah didn't see it as a failure that Erica didn't manage to find herself a husband on her first season, her next and the next one at that. In fact, he was happy that her sister would still be by his side for a bit longer.

And when one night, she fell asleep and remained sleeping for how many changing of seasons only for her to wake up and look at him as if he was a stranger—Elijah knew that something had happened.

He didn't know what it was and the family physician had explained that Erica had lost her memories, there was a part of him that was certain that that wasn't the reason why Erica insisted on being called Eri. Because she'd changed so much.

She talks strangely, acts differently and smiles so oddly, it was quirked and not the small and gentle one she used to wear when she's with him. She was so full of life that it scares Elijah whenever she's quiet because he knew that at those limited moments, Eri was stuck in her own mind and would think that none of this was real.

Elijah didn't know how it was possible for him to love his sister this much. That whoever Eri was, whoever Erica had become in the seasons that she was sleeping and remained in her dreams and nightmare—it made him realize that his love for her was a constant truth in his life.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Eri asked.

Elijah looked around his sister's room. Everything seems to be in order aside from the discarded leather bound book on the floor and the opened windows. He had learned that even after her awakening, Eri still loves learning and she always cherishes her books, she would never just leave it there abandoned in the carpeted floor and she has the habit of closing the windows of her room after taking a bath before going to sleep.

"I heard a voice," he told her.

Eri tilted her head to the side like a curious bird, a new habit that was solely Eri's. "Hearing voices is always a bad sign, brother. Who did it tell you to kill? Hopefully not me?"

"You are not funny." A lie, Eri was a funny one, Elijah knows not where she's getting that humor from. "You should be the one sleeping, Rapunzel."

He received an unimpressed glare at that. So, she did understand what he was referring to.

"You are not funny," Eri repeated Elijah's statement. "And you know that we're not doing anything wrong."

Through all her lies, there were moments where Eri would be absolutely honest with him and it seemed that this was one of those moments. Eri was a strangely honest and blunt person despite her habit of claiming sick to escape social situations

"You have been denying to see him for a week that he resulted on climbing on your window and sneaking in your room," he said with an exasperated sigh, not at all surprised that the Viscount would do such a thing. He's a Bridgerton and from what he'd observed, the family's not all... Conventional. "I should be asking him for a duel for doing something that would risk your reputation."

"Bah, fuck that." She rolled her eyes and waves her hand dismissively. Again with her profanities that Elijah failed to stop her from using "Between the two of us, you should be worrying more about me doing something to risk his reputation."

Unfortunately, Eri was right. She'd grown a bit impulsive and would often act before thinking. She did kiss the Viscount for everyone to see, the ton was horrified and the Queen was amused by it all. And despite the Viscount's past reputations, Elijah knew that Anthony Bridgerton respected and adored his sister to commit something that would ruin Eri.

But it seemed that seven days of avoidance from Eri made the man act as if he was some Prince from a far away land, climbing the tower of a long haired beauty just to get a glimpse of her.

He didn't like the Viscount and he could care less if Eri discarded him to the sides but looking at his sister now, he knew that she was bothered by something.

(He still believes that she could choose someone better.)

(She deserves the best after all.)

(Who was Anthony Bridgerton anyway to try and dare to charm his wonderful sister away?)

Elijah picked up the book on the floor and placed it at his sister's table. He silently padded on the floor and sat next to Eri on her bed. He took her hand in his and pressed his thumbs on her palm, something Eri did once when she found out that he was stressed and tried to help soothe the headache away.

"Why do you look so sad?" He asked.

Eri huffed a breath and didn't correct him.

"Fuck knows," she cursed casually and shrugged. She fell down on her bed with a huff while Elijah was watching her, still trying to soothe her. "It's just... I didn't mean to fall in love with him."

What an odd thing to hear, Elijah thought. It's not as if falling in love was a decision. That out of a crowd, you would choose one person and say to yourself 'that one, I would fall in love with that one.' From what he'd noticed with his sister and the Viscount, it wasn't his decision to fall in love with her. Eri offended him, from what he could recall in their first meeting, and still continue to do so. And Eri was infuriated with him. She said that he was disrespectful and Elijah agreed.

Strangely enough, as they continued to meet with one another, loathe as he might say; it was as if Anthony Bridgerton revolves around Eri.

Elijah wanted to tell the man to get away from his sister but he couldn't, not when everything Eri did, the Viscount would come back.

(It was honestly annoying how like a schoolboy man like Bridgerton acts around his sister.)

And he wouldn't do such a thing, his sister's independence was hers. She might be his older brother but that didn't mean that he should dictate what she should do with her life—not when he could see everyday that Eri's still trying to discover it and he would just observe and admire her wonder.

"What did you mean to do then?" He curiously asked.

Eri chuckled ruefully. "Help him find his happiness, I think. And totally get away from the limelight of everything."

Elijah didn't understand her aversion to that, not when she could walk into any situation and get the eyes of everyone. His little sister was bright, charming and plain incandescent—also a troublemaker and never fails to scandalize everyone around her with her being just Eri.

"Then why are you shutting him away if you intend to help him find his happiness that rather defeats the purpose of your intention?"

Eri's nose scrunched her nose in confusion, like an adorable bunny. "What do you mean?"

Elijah sighed, fond and exasperated. "Surely Bridgerton would be one of those romantics that sees his fiancée as his happiness, no?"

"... Huh?"

Eri sat up and Elijah stopped massaging her hand to watch her face, her reaction.

"... Elijah, what the fuck are you talking about?" 

He rolled his eyes, a habit he adapted from her. "Is this because I called you his fiancée? Come on now, I asked you if I should tell our parents about your courtship and engagement but you said no. Everyone knows that at this point, it is a long engagement that you want with Bridgerton. You should be used by now to be referred as his fiancée."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. A keening sound escaped her lips.

His little sister was malfunctioning again.

"... Shall I tuck you to bed? It is late after all." Eri needs a full night sleep so she would not be grumpy tomorrow.

In the end, Elijah didn't wait for a response, not when Eri was trying to formulate a word and failing again and again. He tucked her to bed (like what he always did when they were younger) and closed the windows of her room to make her feel secure.

"Good night, little sister. I hope you will resolve your differences with your fiancé soon." 

Chapter Text

In the Before, when Eri was 8 years old, she and her father bonded over renting movies on his payday. 

She remembered that she was distinctly unimpressed when the young clerk manning the counter recommended Madagascar 2 to her when all she ever wanted was to rent Tinkerbell again and rewatch it for the nth time. Somehow, they went home with her clutching the Madagascar 2 CD to her chest, and when they got home and played it on their DVD, the chaos just embraced her. She found Marty, the zebra, to be the funniest thing ever, even though she couldn't really understand half of what he was saying.

He was a menace, and Eri adored her.

It was only natural for her to ask her parents to go to the zoo to see one, but alas, her request was denied. They lived on an island in a province, not exactly a place where there's a zoo nearby.

Looking at the grazing zebras, Eri felt a sudden bout of melancholia, and she was about to have dramatic thoughts in her head concerning melancholia, zebras, and Father when Queen Charlotte suddenly spoke.

"Whenever I look at my zebras, I am reminded of you," she mused.

Eri stared at the diva. "I don't think that is a compliment that you thought it was."

"I am not inclined to give compliments."

"I noticed," she dryly replied. Eri had spent numerous times with the woman, and she'd never heard her compliment anybody. Anybody.

She mournfully sipped her tea. The English could never convert her to be a tea drinker, especially if she had the money to throw away just for her coffee. English teas are too bland for her tongue, and she's really not built for it.

"What do you mean I remind you of zebras?" She couldn't help but ask.

Queen Charlotte smirked. "Do you know when zebras are born, their foals can walk for almost six minutes?" 

"That's actually interesting. What does that have to do with me?"

"You are like a newborn foal, always stumbling in your six minutes yet managing to charm everyone watching you."

That's... Wait—"That is a compliment. Why are you complimenting me? What is happening? Am I going to be sold for another batch of your pet zebras?!""

The woman just doesn't do compliments, okay?! And sure, if Eri digested her words, it was a nice one despite the mental image, but fuck if it wasn't the creepiest thing ever to receive from this ice queen!

Eri strangely felt disgusted and harassed.

Like, ew.

Her face must be expressing what she was thinking of because the Queen's eyes gleamed in glee. "Was that how you managed to captivate Viscount Bridgerton's attention? Let us be candid, there are multiple beautiful women in the ton. You are not that special, dear."

"Thanks," she deadpanned. Here she was, the real her. Queen Charlotte, sass and insults ran through her veins and fed her immortal dark husk. "And what do you mean captivate? I'm not trying to captivate anyone!"

Lottie huffed and opened her fan just for the added dramatic effect. "Willful blindness does not make you."

Eri sighed and thunked her head on the table, ignoring polite manners in front of the Queen, who had seen Eri do worse.

"Is this about the rumor about Anthony and me being betrothed?"

"Rumors?"

"Yes, rumors! Who even threw those words around?! Surely not me; I don't exactly willingly converse and socialize with you rich people. In fact, you know that I avoid it. That's why I'm wondering who spread that around. Even my own brother believed that thing! Is it Lady Whistledown? Is that woman writing nonsense about me?"

The older woman hummed, narrowed her eyes at Eri, and pursed her lips—Eri immediately knew that she was in deep shit.

"So, you and the Viscount Bridgerton aren't betrothed?"

"Yes!"

"A wedding ceremony is not taking place for you this month?"

"Of course!"

"Hmm. Strange."

Eri grieved her poor ignorance.

She didn't want to ask. She really didn't. Queen Charlotte's thoughts are for her and for her only because if Eri asked? She's just digging her grave deeper.

"Why is that strange?" she asked, surrendering to the inevitable. "You are aware of my stance with marriage, Your Majesty. I don't wish it."

"It is widely known that those who are relevant are aware of the betrothed information."

"So... everyone knows, huh?" she said, a dull tinge in her voice at this freaking revelation. "That's... Why am I not aware of this?! I, for one, think that I should be primarily aware of this situation because I'm literally in it?!"

She was shot with two words that the Queen repeated. "Willful blindness."

Eri, in turn, was silenced.

She ransacked her brain on what to reply, but she couldn't really think of anything.

Well played, Lottie.

She went back to sipping her dreadful tea.

Unlike popular belief, Eri Williams isn't stupid. She was a burnout academic achiever and knew in herself that she had brains that, most of the time, spouted out brilliant ideas!

It grated her that for the past week or so, Anthony Bridgerton has been finessing his way into her life! Sure, Eri admitted to herself that she liked the guy and was in love with him.

(But that didn't mean that she liked him randomly barging in her window at night!)

(... Even though she found it a bit sexy.)

(Look at those biceps flexing!)

(Yummy, yummy.)

But she would like to point out again and again that she was just a side character! She wasn't important to this story at all. She might or might not have already gone through the acceptance phase in her week-long Anthony-abstinence that she wouldn't end up with him!

It was just plain impossible. Again, she's a side character, and he's the protagonist! Have you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, ever read or watched something where that dynamic ever worked?

That's because it was impossible. She wasn't even supposed to exist here.

Then, Eri had come to the terrible realization that her entrance in this historical-romance franchise had messed up something. She's not exactly sure what that was, but she's pretty certain that she wouldn't end up with Anthony Bridgerton.

But what if (what fucking if) her presence did something? What if Eri got Canon and Plot™ confused, and those two forces just—forced Anthony and the people of the ton to think she was his betrothed?

That she was his female lead?

That she was—that Anthony should love her?!

It was awful. So, so horrible for Anthony. Yes, he got all the pretty privilege, but he didn't deserve any of that!

He didn't deserve Canon and Plot™ forcing his hand like that.

Poor guy.

Despite their first meeting, she genuinely had come to love him. Eri's not stupid, and it was plain to see that he should be with Edwina Sharma. Eri's presence in this world shattered that.

It was unfair to him and his happiness.

Because what if, in some crazy stroke of luck, she did end up with him? They get married and blah blah blah? What if he suddenly realized that Eri really wasn't that girl?

And Eri herself didn't think too much of marriage. She's not ready for any of that yet. No one in this fucking world could force her to marry anyone if she didn't want to. She's twenty-two, almost twenty-three now, and thought that she's still too young to get hitched!

Marriage was just not in her itinerary.

(Anthony Bridgerton is delicious, still, no-no to weddings.)

Right now, Eri's literally caging Anthony to herself when she knows that she won't be able to give him what he wants.

This thing started because he's hunting for a wife. He wanted a viscountess and a partner for him.

Yet, Canon and Plot™ (confused with Eri's Eri-ness) thought that it would be funny to chain Anthony to her.

It wasn't funny!

They're literally robbing Anthony of his freedom to love whom he should be loving!

This was all so wrong on every corner.

All Eri wanted right now was to sob Disney Princess-style. She's not built for tea nor marriage with a handsome viscount. She's not some modern character isekai-ed into a villainess, and the Duke of the North would just sweep her feet!

That's not! how things were supposed to go here—Eri refuses.

She's a side character, a person in the peanut gallery, a member of the mob. Anthony Bridgerton is the hot protagonist; he's not supposed to fall for her.

She needs to do something.

It was her presence that ruined things, and then it was her presence that would be the answer—or lack thereof.

"Brother, would it be possible to join our parents in America?"