𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 | benedict bridgerton

►l' acceptation

Gasps filled the dance room as Lords and Ladies noticed the ghost of the Ton: Marie Howard, enter the ball. She waited at the top of the marble stairs, mumbling a bleak thanks to the caller who read out her name. Her shaky hand was laced around Daphne's arm, her face cool and collected. She looked at Violet, offering a shy smile although she couldn't get it to reach her eyes. "You're doing great," Daphne whispered with her signature smile wrapped around her teeth. Her cheeks were red, fitting her classic rosey outfit. She flitted her eyes through her eyelashes to the Duke of Hastings who bowed his head in flirty acknowledgement. 

Daphne led Marie to the front of the room, holding tightly onto her hand to reassure her. She bobbed down to bow to Mrs Featherington - of whose ball it was, waiting for Marie to do the same. She curtseyed at the woman, smiling with little enthusiasm before walking over to the side of the dance floor. She stopped a waiter, taking a glass of champagne and sipping it slightly. She relished the light bubbly liquid, Yasmin had been ordered to remove all alcohol from Marie's house - the Queen knowing Marie's ways very precisely. Marie stared ahead in her own sad world, everyone she looked at had some sort of comparable trait to Bea. Her bottom lip quivered her head head was kept high.

"Enjoying the show? I'm glad you're here," Colin's smiley voice filled Marie's ears. Her eyes looked up to him with a crinkle of a smile at the edges of her eyes. She shook her head with little acknowledgement to the statement. "It's not about about him but my brother's been a mess," Colin say with an awkward face. "I don't wish him harm," Marie said, Colin not prepared for her voice. It was thick from her crying and hoarse from her shouting. She seemed utterly broken. "I know you don't, you know your presence here makes me relieved," He rocked on his heels with a cheeky grin, attempting to deter the subject. "You said that already," Marie pointed out, watching with a smile as Colin went red. "But I agree, I like you here too. I couldn't bear having to reject suitor after suitor," Marie said, casting her eyes to Colin as a snobby blonde walked over in a suit too big for him. "Excuse me, Princess Howard?" The boy asked, making Marie ignore him and stare at Colin helplessly. "Can we help you?" Colin stepped in, taking Marie's hand. "I was wondering if the Princess would mind joining me to the dancefloor," The Lord said with a cocky smile, straightening his baggy shirt with a soft hand. "I apologise however the Princess and I were just about to dance," Colin smiled with a slight aggressive tone. 

He pulled Marie to the dance floor, joining the group which was being set up. "I'm not in the mood for dancing," Marie moped, trying to walk back to the side however Colin grabbed her hand and span her into him, the bouncy violin music starting to play. They danced back and forth, the music loud and whimsical, fully of life. The dance was physical and excited. All the dancing forced a smile to flit onto Marie's face.  "How'd you do this?" Colin asked, shouting over the loud music. He gestured to her cut and bruised hands. "You don't want to know," She shook her head, reminding herself of the shattered ceramic which was littered all over her floors.

Marie nodded thankfully at Colin before she span in a circle repetitively, the men running off to their next partner. "You look dashing my love," Benedict's warm voice enveloped her senses, making her feel cosy. He wrapped his arms around her and let her fall backwards into a dip. "I couldn't say the same," Marie said, her usual sarcasm seeping through, making her dimples more obvious. "There it is," Benedict grinned, spinning Marie around a few times, her dress floating outwards. "What?" Marie asked, her doe eyes staring up into his brown ones. "Her," He explained, talking about the original happy Marie he'd grown to love. "You do truly look amazing," Benedict smiled, pulling Marie close as they danced, her face growing hotter from embarrassment.

Marie wore a large white dress which flew outwards from her waist. It was covered in embroidered flowers which grew up her dress. She looked like a Princess - fit the name for the first time in her life. Her hair was up in a concoction of  plaits and swirls, adapted with beads and pearls which littered her head. It sat atop her head, exposing her freckled neck, leading down to her open collarbones.