𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎 - 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚘𝚗

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗

For the next few days, Benedict refused to interact with his family, or atleast his brothers until one of them apologised for assuming such things about his fiancée. And instead he opted to spend more time with Florence, and planning a whole wedding.

"Is there anything in Swedish tradition, that you'd want or like to do?" Benedict asks, as his finger is curled around a strand of Florence's hair, as her head rests on his chest, she was drawing patterns with her finger over his blouse but stopped as the words came out of his mouth.

"Well, the only one I'd really want is the one I can't have," Florence mumbled, but Benedict heard it and his head tilted in his visible confusion.

"Why not? What is it?"

"Well usually," Florence sits up now and faces Benedict but her eyes aren't on him, they've fallen down to where her hands are fumbling with the material of her dress, "the bride and groom walk down the aisle together, but I wouldn't want that, I'd want my father to walk me some part down and then you at the end."

"And why couldn't that happen?" Benedict asked, his hand now resting on top of Florence's fidgety one.

Florence looks up at him now, and her eyes are sad, "I haven't told my parents, and I won't, not if I can help it, they'll force so much on us and I'd want it to be our day, not one influenced by them."

Benedict raises his hand to rest on Florence's cheek, he rubs softly and Florence smiles sadly, "I think you should tell them, how badly could they react?"

Florence laughs, "You know absolutely nothing about my parents if you're thinking like that, you don't want anything to do with them. It would absolutely be awful if you ever had to meet them."

"I highly doubt that, after all they created you, some ounce of goodness has to be in there despite all I've been told," Benedict replies, a growing smirk pulling at his lips and forcing one onto Florence's lips too.

"I've told Viktoria, however," Florence confesses, and another confession pushes at her lips but she swallows it back down.

"How did that go?" Benedict jokes. Florence rolls her eyes but she's smiling whilst moving closer to Benedict, whose hands eventually fall down to her hips.

"Aswell as you can imagine, I just have this horrible feeling constantly now that she'll tell my parents before I can," Florence sighs, her face contorting with sadness and anxiety, Benedict slowly connects their lips.

"You'll be fine, she won't. After all she's your sister."

•

Sweden

Eric Österstrom was drunk, his vision was blurred and he had no idea which of his favoured women were crumbling underneath him as he drove into her. The moans and groans of her echoed throughout the room but couldn't penetrate his drunken state, he wished more than ever that he was sober, he loved to cherish different women especially when they were moaning as much as they were and they drowned out his wife's sobs that he could hear through some thin walls.

A door slammed open to the side of him, and his eyes immediately flew to watch the action but his drunken state made it all unbelievably blurry and unreliable, but he could somewhat make out a figure of a servant.

He saw the mouth open of said servant but Eric's mind couldn't comprehend them, he saw that also the servant held a letter clutched to him. He belowed him over whilst his hips still rolled into another's, continuing even as the woman tightened around him.

The servant scurried over to him and started to repeat and recount what the letter said, well that's what Eric assumed he was doing. However, the Duke only heard 'daughter' and 'engaged', which confused him.

"Viktoria is already married, my friend!" He shouted but his words came out sloppy and slurred, as he shouted, he drove himself further into the woman and she let out such a high moan, Eric fumbled to hold his ears.

"No sir, Florence."

Well, Eric heard that clearly enough.

im still so ill :( so this was a lot shorter