𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎 - 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚘𝚗

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚝𝚠𝚘

THREE YEARS LATER

Not much had changed for the second born Bridgerton son, he had completed the art course, surprising himself when he had told of his succession in it - he had spent the long dragging months in mourning of a failed relationships. His family had tried desperately to lift his ruined spirits, suggesting several treatments but he had only recently taken the advice, but only the advice of Colin.

Benedict remembered Colin's tales of his travels, and he was told it relaxed the mind to an unimaginable state, something no one could've ever dreamed of. And well, if that was what was promised then Benedict was all in. However, he opted to travel all of Europe, well what he could manage, and up until this moment he had skillfully avoided Sweden but now his travels could only continue if he stopped and stayed for a while there.

When he had arrived, he remarked in its beauty, he visited rolling hills that stretched far into the distance, loved the lush greenery that surrounded it all, enjoyed how his Swedish flourished and always stared in awe at the sky, as dusk approached quietly how pastels bled into the blue.

He was staying somewhere make shift, hardly spending time there as he explored Swedish culture. Benedict had decided to branch out further, making travel to Halland to explore a rumoured fair. The event was loud and bustling, women laughed and children ran around, chasing each other in a game, straw was thrown carelessly on the ground, covering up the pure earth they all stepped on.

Benedict was lost in all sense of the word, he believed himself well read and experienced in Swedish culture, but he was surrounded by several events, dances happened - he found out one was called the polska - there was no instruments present, so they made music with their own voices, and it all sounded heavenly.

Traditional foods were offered, and it all was so crowded but he couldn't wipe the grin off his face - everyone was genuinely happy, they all seemed to have no problems or had atleast forgotten their burdens. As he studied varpa, the Swedish equivalent to boules, he spotted a familiar face in the crowd but as he tried to lock eyes in the crowd, they ducked out of sight. Benedict sighed before walking off into the crowd.

•

Florence couldn't believe her luck. She must've been cursed, it was the only reasoning as for why she just saw him. Her hand turned clammy and tensed, she only realised following a small whine.

"Mama, hurts," A little voice complained, Florence immediately dropped her daughters hand, and bent downwards so she was at eye level with the toddler.

"I'm so sorry Astrid, that Mama hurt you," Florence apologises, holding her daughters hand carefully now before placing dozens of kisses on it causing a buttery laugh to spill from her daughters lips, "Darling, you have to do me a favour now, we're going to continue walking but when you see Tant Viktoria (Aunt Viktoria), you have to tell me but then you can run along with your cousin. Does that sound okay?"

Astrid nodded eagerly, she had no idea what her mother had truly said but aslong as she could play with her cousin, all was well for her. She gripped her mother's hand again and they continued to walk but her feet kept catching on the straw, slowly infuriating her so she was thankful when she saw Viktoria emerge from a crowd.