Battlefields to Ball-gowns (A Bridgerton Fanfiction)

Chapter 15

The dew of the morning sprayed up onto Artemis and her horse sped threw the grassy hills of the country. 

Colin had led them to the place of the duel. 

Rage shot through the princess as she came upon the idiotic scene. The duke and Lord Bridgerton stood taking paces away from each other before turning and raising their coward's weapons. 

One fundamental rule of Illyria was the right to blood. One must earn the blood he takes of a fellow Illyrian, through honorable combat. Swords, axes, knives, and close-range weapons force you to look into the eyes of your Illyrian brother or sister and give them the respect of an honorable death. 

Guns were the weapons of cowards. 

Daphne raced straight in between them the horse startles at the sounds of the firing pistols throwing Daphne onto her back. 

"DAPHNE!"
"SISTER!"

Immediately Artemis was off her horse in a moment, helping Daphne stand. 

"I am fine! But I need a moment alone with the Duke!" Daphne announced, allowing the air to refill her lungs. 

Before Anthony could interject Artemis had turned on him with a glare that would freeze over the sun. 

"I also require a moment with Lord Bridgerton." She spat his name like an insult, her accent far thicking with her boiling rage. 

As Daphne and Simon stepped away Artemis marched her way over to Anthony. 

"Artemis listen, I know-" Before he got another word out her fist collided with his cheek. He stumbled to the ground shocked to his core at the force with which she struck him. 

"Do. Not. Speak... You are a coward, Anthony Bridgerton." She stood over him, grabbing his shirt collar. 

He looked at her with disbelief. He was sure that he would never see the Illyrian beauty again, yet there she stood like a goddess of war snarling at him for his stupidity. 

The white silk of her nightgown clung wetly to her body, leaving very little of her form to the imagination. Her dark curls hung wildly, windblown and crazed. The flush of the morning air turned her cheeks and nose rosey and her golden eyes practically glowed with rage in the morning sun.

She was a vision. 

For a moment Anthony wondered if he had died from the duel, though the pain in his cheek centered him slightly. 

"You show up at my home, declare your affections, and then scurry off, knowing you would never have to face any consequences of doing so. What gives you the right? I would kill you if you weren't so keen on doing it yourself!" 

"You are angry I told you I loved you?" Anthony scoffed in disbelief.

"I am angry that you ran away to die before I could say a word in retaliation!" 

"Retaliation?! This is not a war, Artemis. There was no plot, or scheming behind my declaration. I told you how I felt because it did not feel right to die knowing I never did."

"HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME TO MOURN YOU WHEN YOU WERE NOT MINE, TO BEGIN WITH!" Anthony had to take a moment to understand her words through her heavy accent. 

Emotions clouded those pretty golden eyes that he had grown so utterly fond of and his heart shattered at her words.

He thought of his mother, destroyed after the death of his father. The thought of his sisters crying and his brothers turning to different vices. He remembered the agony of abandoning and childhood innocence that remained to take care of his family. 

He thought of the same expression on Artemis' beautiful face. The same dead look his mother had, yet none of the justification of being married to the man she mourned. 

He thought of those pretty golden eyes, dull and dead with grief and it shattered him. 

"The duke and I shall be married," Daphne announced, stealing his attention from the women in front of him.

Artemis took a deep breath, steeling the pain in her heart and pushing it far down into her soul as she turned to her friend smiling. 

"Congratulations, Both of you." Artemis smiled, hugging Daphne close, "It will be alright Daphe, the fates have written this so." 

Daphne clung to her friend, her hands slightly shaking. She would never have children as she desired, she would be married to a man who did not love her, but she saved her brother and the duke, and she saved her friend the heartbreak, it was painful but necessary.

She would have nieces and nephews. 

She would have her friend by her side. 

Anthony watched from the side, desperate to have a moment with Artemis. With his sister's honor restored, he would be able to focus his energy on restoring the sparks of a brewing flame he had stomped out. 

Artemis Freyja Black would be his Viscountess if it was the last thing he did. 

Ares and Apollo sat alone at breakfast unaware of their sisters' whereabouts. 

"So... How was your time with Eloise?" Apollo asked suggestively, ignoring the slight pain in his chest as he smirked. 

"She is weak, but over time her abilities will progress. She is by no means a warrior but she will be ably to hold her own against an Englishman soon enough." Ares said blandly as he sipped from his teacup. 

"You know that was not what I was referring to. Don't pretend to be stupider than you already are." Apollo teased, an edge of annoyance slipping into his voice. 

"Ah yes, your little plan to make a fool of her because of her little school girl crush on me... I will not entertain your schemes. If you are bored do not drag some poor maiden into it." Ares drawled glaring at his brother.

"There is no scheme. She fancies you, am I to understand you have no attraction to her?" Apollo asked, slightly hurt that his own brother thought so low of him. 

Sure he was mischievous, he liked to cause trouble and he was easily bored. But Apollo would never drag a woman down in his games unless it was his sisters. 

"She is a child, Apollo. A child with a crush... Affections I do not return. Stop whatever your planning now before Eloise gets hurt." With that Ares finished his tea and left the room, leaving Apollo to stew in his own rage. 

The notion of hurting Eloise left a vile taste in the prince's mouth. 

She was kind and strong, and smarter than him in every way.

She was a beacon of light in the crowd of the dull London ton. 

She was careful, yet daring. 

How is it that a brute such as his brother was unable to see that? 

Eloise Bridgerton was perfection in every aspect of being, body, mind, and soul.

Apollo's eyes widened at his own thoughts, "Shit..." 

He fell back into his chair, staring horrified at the ceiling, "fucking gods...I'm in love with her, aren't I?"