who: dominic & ceara @lavieenton where: ireland, 1797
There hadn’t been much time since his grandfather's passing, but Dominic was reminded he had a duty to his family now. Within a week, he was whisked away to London, and his investiture was held. He’d sworn his loyalty to the king and his heirs, and then he was granted his title through the Letters Patent. All he could remember was how the letter felt heavy and the ermine tail robes tickled his neck. His mothers had commissioned a painting of him dressed in his full regalia, coronet as well, to be hung in Hillsborough Castle. Everything about the ceremony only amplified the pressures he’d now have. Dominic longed to be home. The ceremony was long; the social season was tiresome. He couldn’t walk through Hyde Park without someone throwing their daughters at him. It all made him miss the unpredictable Irish crossing.
Dominic arrived at Belfast harbour by the afternoon, and already it was packed. The voices rose up louder than the seagull’s cries, all shouting the same thing. He’d scarcely set foot on solid ground before the noise reached him. Dominic adjusted his glove, his gaze drifting towards the crowd. He couldn’t stop thinking of home, of his bed on the ship; now his curiosity was pulling him somewhere else. Thankfully, his mother both remained in London, so he had the time to explore without their meddling.
When he made it to the crowd, he listened closely. They were all shouting about safer school rooms and better education for their children. They couldn’t be blamed for wanting it. As Dominic walked further into the crowd, a shoulder met his. It wasn’t enough to stagger him, but it was enough to remind him that he still had his sea legs. He’d stumbled a little into someone else, and quickly he turned. “Forgive me,” he said with a hint of a smile. “I’m still finding my land legs; I didn’t mean to barge into you.” He still looked tired from his travels, but that didn’t stop him from apologising. “Is it always so lively here, or have I returned at the worst moment to stand upright?” He asks, laughing as he still tries to find his bearings. Dominic hated travelling across the Irish Sea. It was unpredictable, and terrible weather was normally the only sure thing.