𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 | benedict bridgerton

►améliorations vestimentaires

Lady Danbury arrived 10 minutes later, plucked eyebrows raised as she noticed the Queen sat there by herself - a blood stained silk glove in her hand and a shattered wine glass picking at the weaving of the the tablecloth. "It seems as though Marie will not be joining us tonight," The Queen smiled sadly. Lady Danbury nodded in understanding. She placed herself next to the Queen, digging into the meal silently and waiting for an explanation. 

"She's completely and utterly in love with the boy,"

Marie ran the entire way back home, her chest heaving, lungs burning, eyes watering. Bea opened the door on the third knock, scratching her neck awkwardly before ushering her inside and pulling her to the bedroom. She pulled her dress off her, undoing the corset fully so the Princess could breathe. Marie ran to the bed, crying into her sheets as Bea comforted her quietly. "Bea, I kissed him. I kissed him and now I can't get him out of my head. And I hate him," She whispered, pulling herself out of her bed. She paced, her body getting more and more fidgety. "Marie, please," Bea approached her with caution. "I HATE HIM" Marie screamed, throwing a set of paint brushes at the wall and watching them lifelessly scatter towards the ground. "There, there," Bea patted Marie on the shoulders, guiding her back to bed. She sobbed into Bea's shoulders, conflicted with the internal pain she felt. She wrapped her hands around Bea's neck, feeling the intense warmth radiating from her. "How can I hate someone I love?" She whimpered, left with no answer. 

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Marie stayed at home for the next few days, taking a bath, painting and then returning to bed. "You must eat something," Bea said sternly, scraping her hair back into a ponytail. She stared at Marie who hid in her covers shyly, waiting for her answer. "Fine," Marie whispered, only her eyes moving as Bea turned and picked up the paintbrushes scattered on the floor. "Your calf's are red," Marie observed, noticing the splotchy rash covering the back of Bea's legs. "Well, I can't afford the right fabric and after a while, this stitching rubs off," Bea looked down, ashamed of her lack of money. Marie's jaw dropped, pushing herself out of bed. "We're going shopping," She announced, leaving her hair naturally wavy before going to her wardrobe. She picked out a yellow regency dress, silk lacing the stitches. It glimmered in the natural daylight, making her look even more angelic. 

"Marie, you really don't have to," Bea hurried next to Marie who was power-walking through the streets, looking down as she noticed people gossip, holding the most recent article of Lady Whistledown in their hands. "Nonsense," She took a breath in, holding her head high before walking into the first boutique. "Miss Howard," The seamstress smiled, announcing her presence, catching the attention of others in the boutique. "Bonjour" Marie smiled, the smile not quite reaching her eyes. She watched as the seamstress hid her copy of Lady Whistledown, her fake smile plastered on her face. "We have just received this new fabric from Spain, it's perfect for your eyes, don't you think," The seamstress held up an ugly shade of teal. Marie stepped forward, feeling the fabric and examining the stitching. "Hmm, no," She said plainly, making the seamstress stutter as she attempted to sell a matching hat. "No?" Her eyebrows raised accusingly. "This fabric is created using weaving correct?" She asked, the seamstress nodding eagerly. "Wrong, the fabric is stitched. It's an English stitch, used only in a variety of London shops, including Lines and Sons which sell this exact fabric in their window," Marie pointed to the shops, which did indeed have the same fabric on display. "Now, if you are going to lie to me and scam me, at least come up with a plausible story. I am the Princess of France, you think I have never been to Spain to get high-quality fabrics?" She said calmly, the entire shops silent. "I- I," The seamstress stuttered under the gaze of the other Mamas and debutants who dropped the 'high-end' fabric they were holding. "Right, well, Bea I believe it is time to leave," Marie said sternly, grabbing Bea's arm and pulling her out of the boutique. 

As soon as they got out of there, Bea burst into laughter, prompting Marie to do the same. "Did you see her face?" Marie chortled, watching Bea as she nodded and clutched her stomach. They ignored the weird looks and stares they got from people on the streets, navigating themselves to the next boutique in between laughs. "Ahh, Madam Howard!" Madam Delacroix smiled, opening her arms warmly as the pair walked into her boutique, stifling their laughs. "Salut," Marie smiled a her fellow French companion. "How may I help you today?" Madam Delacroix asked, brushing her hands along the fabric displayed on her walls. "I am hoping to get a maids dress made but in a higher quality fabric," Marie explained, pointing to Bea who grinned, brushing her hair behind her ears. "Of course," Madam Delacroix said, with no hesitation. That was what Marie liked about her, her need for no discrimination in her boutique. "Anything for yourself?" Madam Delacroix said whilst taking Bea's measurements. "Hmmm," Marie thought, skipping through the masses of fabrics. "Have a look around," Madam Delacroix suggested, returning to wrapping her tape around Bea's waist. 

Marie skimmed the back of her hands along bunches of colours. Her eyes were overwhelmed with blues and oranges and hues of pink and green. She took a 360 spin, a smile creeping onto her face as she envisioned all the dresses that would be made. "Isn't there a ball coming up?" Marie called out, pulling fabrics off the walls to feel them. "Yes, Madam. There is the fashion ball, for debutants to show of their prettiest dress," Madam Delacroix called from the back. "Hmm," Marie hummed, her eyes scanned the other fabrics before they rested on the perfect material, a dress already coming to mind.