Brimsley & Reynolds

4

That next morning, Brimsey awoke, but not even the heat could sway his mood. He felt as though he had just gone to heaven. The event of the past night did not seem real to him, straight out of a fairytale. Except in fairy tales the characters in love were always men in women, never men and men. He knew it was wrong, but it did not feel wrong, it felt natural. Reynolds and everything about him felt natural.

Brimsley could not wait to see him so he dressed and almost ran to the dining room.

"You seem in good spirits, young man," Mr Mavis, another servant, said.

"I was finally able to get a full night of sleep," Brimsley lied, he barely slept a wink.

"You are very fortunate," Mr Atkins took a bite out of his meal, "the remainder of us have all struggled to rest amidst this great heat."

Brimsley ate almost all of his food but he was not able to sit still in his chair for very much longer. He got up and headed straight for the place Reynolds and Brimsley discussed they would meet before their encounter from the previous night. There stood Reynolds, smiling and looking tall at Brimsley. Brimsley had never felt so joyous in all his life, "Good morning, Reynolds," Brimsley smiled back.

"Good morning, Brimsley," Reynolds' smile widened, "'tis very good to see you."

"'Tis a pleasure to see you as well."

The day went on as it should have; explaining the most important parts of being the queen's man, describing the best way to serve the queen, saying what the best way to address her majesty would be, and so on. Brimsley had learned much in that one day about his job to be and it only excited him more to meet the new queen, even though nobody knew who she would be.

As the day unfolded and the week progressed, Brimsley found solace in the moments shared with Reynolds, his heart yearning for a deeper connection between them.

Their conversations held a light-hearted tone, filled with harmless banter. In the narrow passageways of the palace, they brushed against each other in passing, sending sparks of electricity through them, even in the most fleeting of touches. Their stolen glances, made each other's cheeks go red.

When circumstances allowed, their fingers would entwine, finding comfort and romantic connection. During their duties, they would seize any opportunity to tease and taunt one another.

They spent their evenings together, feeding their hearts' desires. The gardens, with the gentle glow of moonlight, became their official spot to meet. They would stroll along the pathways, conversing about everything that came to mind. Seeking seclusion, they would sit upon sheltered stairs that stood outside the palace.

Their longing to be with each other would lead them into each other's bedrooms (Brimsley found his bedroom to be unfairly smaller than Reynolds' which, he could not lie, annoyed him).

The day came when Brimsley would finally meet King George III himself. He would be shadowing and accompanying Reynolds in a day on duty serving the King. Brimsley was excited yet nervous, his stomach doing somersaults before he even broke his fast.

Brimsley looked down at his toast, unsure if he should eat it or not. "You look unwell lad," Mr Lane commented, "what's the matter, food not up to your liking?"

"I am to be on duty to the King today," Brimsley continued staring down at his plate full of food.

"By god!" Mr Wells exclaimed, "That is certainly a reason to take one's appetite away."

"Of course it is but you do not want you do not want his Majesty to hear your stomach all day," Mr Atkins advised.

"That is true," Brimsey picked up his fork and knife, "I suppose a little food will not hurt." He swallowed his scrambled eggs and slowly regained his appetite. He assured himself that all would be well and he did not have to stress.