––– WITHOUT THE PRESENCE OF ITS precious aristocrats, London had become like a crown without its jewels–– a hollow thing, quiet as it clattered upon the floor. The Regent’s light eyes surveyed the assembly room with a joyful, nearly boyish glint, absorbing the various sights and sounds to be had. Yet, as another Quadrille sounded, pounding in his ears like a second heartbeat, Frederick excused himself; reluctant to seek out a partner, he instead moved toward the smorgasbord of libations and delicacies.
Plucking a glass of ratafia from the artful array of mousseux, he turned to once more watch the various couplings dance, receiving a waggle of fingertips from one such woman whose eyes he met halfheartedly. ❝ That pitiful roué, Lord Petersborough, appears moments from collapsing, does he not? ❞ Frederick smirked as he watched the elder Lord stumble through the motions of the French country dance, before lifting the ornate wristwatch that adorned his arm, ❝ my watch if his partners’ feet go unscathed for the rest of the dance. ❞
Even though the room was filled with ostentatious outfits and powdered wigs stacked to the ceiling, if there was one person that James was able to spot, it was his mentee. The prince regent was not known for his subtlety and tonight was evidently no exception. Still, James smiled as he weaved deftly through a few fawning courtiers who had recognised Frederick. Stood next to the prince, James’ own ensemble in its calm hue of silver and black made Frederick’s blue and gold shine even brighter. “Going for a subtle look tonight then?”
@frederickaugustus
––– THE PRINCE’S LOFTY HEIGHT, TOGETHER with his mop of russet curls and, in a word, ostentatious ensemble did him no favours in attempting to go unnoticed. But, then again, all such factors considered–– had there been any attempt at all? Frederick rose both his flute of champagne and his chin at the Earl in an implicit acknowledgment, his eyes never straying from the virginal chit he spotted across the crowd. ❝ You don’t understand, my Lord Jersey, I have bet my stables–– ❞ (the selfsame stables his people poured £31,000 per annum into) ❝ that I shall be sniffed out by every marriageable beauty this evening, and I cannot stand to lose. ❞ Whether his words were in jest or not remained to be seen as Frederick met his mentor’s dark gaze, winking malevolently.
––– 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 to be used in relation to the Prince Regent. Albeit his face may be veiled in a golden masque, Frederick’s ritzy costume may reveal his identity before his head of fiery red hair has a chance to. Dressed to the nines from head to toe and dripping with golden accents, pearls, and priceless rubescent heirlooms, he has yet another trick up his sleeve should his attire fail to generate talk. Gossip swirls around the miniature of a woman’s eye has has chosen to wear beneath the gilded lapels of his jacket. The lady’s identity remains a secret, and few but those in the Prince’s inner circle of boyhood friends would know that the ruse is merely a sleight-of-hand trick to kindle interest.
hello all! di here, again, this time with living legend, prince of wales and everybody’s least fave prince regent, freddie !! i’m very excited for him to shake things up a bit around here, so don’t be shy to hit me up for plots. you can view his template about here & read some fast facts below as i get started on a proper biography !!
how is your character viewed by the ton? : frederick has transformed from a darling boy into a ruthless profligate whose unpredictability and taste for extravagance is no longer tolerated since his appointment to the role of prince regent. nevertheless, freddie is widely regarded as being fine company–– he is a patron of virtually every form of leisure, style and taste, and his charm and cultivation of culture has endeared him to the elite, hedonistic members of the ton. to others, the prince’s dissolute way of life and shoddy relationship with his father has earned him the contempt of the people, the dissatisfaction of the whig party and is threatening to dim the prestige of the monarchy. his ministers find him selfish, unreliable and irresponsible, but his head for strategy and ability to captivate and beguile a crowd cannot be denied.
frederick is the eldest son of the current sovereign, george iii, and was born in 1763 at st james’s palace in london. although far from disciplined, freddie was an adept student and a quick study. at an early age, he began to use his unique position as prince of wales, heir to the united kingdom, to his advantage; often manipulating his tutors into bending to his will, and barreling past any sort of perimeters or guidelines set out for him. although the relationship had yet to sour, it was clear that his father, the king, grew disapproving of his eldest son–– and attempting to curtail his wildly unpredictable behaviours only widened the gap between them.
at eighteen, he was granted a separate establishment and moved his court to charlton house. charlton house is regarded as a hotbed if licentiousness, the source of freddie’s prolific spending and a snakes’ pit of harlots, gamblers, fools and brown-nosers, seeking to capture the princes’ volatile affections.
freddie is a people person–– whatever misgivings you have with him, it is often difficult to reproach the prince when his demeanour is so effortlessly charming, and his well rehearsed excuses pile high. freddie is very much a person who seeks a good time, and those who dampen his plans will be swiftly plucked from his inner-circle of influence. while not inherently cruel or machiavellian, it is best not to cross him.
as of the last year, freddie has presided over his increasingly deranged father’s vast kingdom as prince regent. it is a position he feels thrusted unfairly upon him, though in all honesty it is a position he has been groomed for since birth. he understands that there are voices within the whig party who believe he has no more right to assume the government than any other subject of the country during his father’s illness, but they are not squabbles he particularly cares to listen to. he knows, one day, he will be a good king–– he merely needs to get his head screwed on right.
