No doubt you saw the whole pretty picture in detail. The young prince bowing to the assembly. Suddenly, he stops. He looks up. For lo… there she stands. The girl of his dreams. Who she is or whence she came, he knows not, nor does he care, for his heart tells him that here, here is the maid predestined to be his bride. A pretty plot for fairy tales. — Cinderella (1950)
Once Edwina and Fred tie the knot and walk back from the aisle, they stop to pay their respects to Charlotte. Edwina begins to bow but Charlotte stops her and pulls her into a tight hug. Edwina hugs back and whispers “tante”.
Fandom: Bridgerton
Characters: Edwina Sharma, Prince Friedrich, Anthony Bridgerton
Pairing: Edwina/Friedrich
Rating: T
Words: 8.6k
Summary: Edwina struggles to move on – but then, a prince comes along.
-> You can also read it on AO3
The wedding was small, but beautiful. Edwina tried forcing herself to smile as much as she could. Her sister was happy – it was all that mattered.
And Edwina was very much happy for her. Yet she could not completely ignore the heaviness of her heart. It was not fair to Kate – but in the end, none of this had been fair.
She tried telling herself to leave it all behind; to look forward into the future. But for the first time in her life, Edwina had trouble finding the light.
After the engagement and Whistledown choosing to spare Edwina more trouble, she had found herself surrounded by suitors again. Not many, but most people had already left town to enjoy the summer at their country seats. Their families had merely remained here for the wedding. Though, Edwina was not planning to leave town at all. Lady Danbury had invited her to stay – recovering from the previous season and preparing for the next, hoping it would be kinder to her.
The men attempting to court her had all seemed kind – decent and polite. Yet also quite eager. And Edwina had begun to wonder whether they did not simply consider her a safe bet. After what had happened, they probably believed her to be desperate; believed that she would not dare declining a sensible match.
But they were unaware of the truth – did not know that it had been Edwina’s decision to walk away.
And she still felt glad about that decision – glad for her sister’s sake, and glad for herself.
For a short moment, she had indeed felt desperate. But that feeling had vanished. She needed time. She had to figure out what she truly wanted from this life.
Of course, she knew quite well what she wanted. Love. It was all she had ever dreamt about. But in the past, there had been a clear image of what that love would look like: a perfect gentleman of high status, who was kind and polite and wise. Lord Bridgerton had played the part of that gentleman so well that Edwina had lost herself inside an impossible fantasy, blind to the reality around her. She could not allow for that to happen again.
Yet what was love truly? How could she know when she was in love?
“You know,” her mother had told her a while ago. “Because that person will be all you can think about; they will be your lifeline; they will make you feel like your heart stops beating whenever they are out of sight.”
But how could one know if the love was requited?
Edwina had asked her that as well, to which her mother had replied, “You can never truly know. But you will nonetheless. Because when two hearts are intertwined, there is a trust that will tell you the truth.”
Trust.
She used to trust people quite blindly. But that naïve girl was gone now.
The wedding celebrations continued at Bridgerton House, and more people decided to join. To everyone’s surprise, Her Majesty was one of those people.
She had not come alone, however. Her nephew – Prince Friedrich of Prussia – had decided to accompany her.
Edwina observed him carefully during his introduction. He was quite good looking and very polite – formal, but with a genuine warmth. Her Majesty had mentioned him before – had mentioned how he was still looking for a wife. It was quite odd that someone like him remained unmarried. A kind prince should hardly be alone.
There has to be something wrong about him, she thought as he complimented her dress with a charming smile.
Then, she silently damned herself.
People are probably thinking the same about me, she reminded herself. He’s most likely wondering right now what horrible things I must have done for a viscount to rather marry my older sister.
Or maybe he did not know yet.
He possibly did not, as he later decided to approach her – again, a sweet smile on his lips.
“Is your solitude a choice or an unfortunate occurrence?” he asked then.
Edwina narrowed her brows. “Pardon me, Your Highness, but are you asking whether no one wishes to speak to me?”
His eyes widened in surprise – and he immediately shook his head. “Oh no, not at all. I was merely wondering whether you prefer to be alone. Because in that case, I will leave again.”
Now, a small smile appeared on her lips.
“Well, I am always interested in a pleasant conversation.”
At that, his own smile returned. “I believe this conversation has not been too pleasant so far. Shall we start over, Miss Sharma?”
Edwina chuckled quietly. “There is no need,” she replied. “No one can ever start over in life.”
“Do you truly believe that?”
There was a curious look on his face – the smile still present, as if he was marvelling at her in wonder.
At that, Edwina had to stare down to her feet. “Well … one can try. But the past will linger, one way or another.”
“That is quite true,” he replied and Edwina looked up again as she felt his gaze on her. “But that only means that we should address it – should not run away from it, if we decide to move forward.” He looked at her silently for a moment, then added, “Might that be the reason why you considered my first question to be an insult? As you expect people to be wary of you after the cancelled wedding?”
Edwina stared at him. “So you know…”
He smiled. “Her Majesty told me – and she told me everything. I’m aware that none of it was your fault.”
Edwina looked down again, muttering, “I would not say that. I should’ve been more observant instead of trying to hold onto some childish dream…”
She trailed off. She had no idea why she was explaining herself to him.
“That’s not true,” he replied, prompting her to look up again. For a moment, he remained quiet – biting his lips, as if contemplating what to say next. Then, he added, “Something similar happened to me last year – with Lord Bridgerton’s sister.”
Edwina’s eyes widened. “Truly?” she asked and he nodded.
“I was courting her – planning to propose,” he told her, the smile now gone. “But one morning, I woke up to the news of her engagement. And I realised that she never cared about me at all. I was a reasonable match, nothing more.”
At that, a sad smile appeared on her face. “I believe this to be the downside of being considered eligible,” she replied. “Everyone is aiming for perfection – but perfection merely means that you are a price to be won.”
“That might be true,” he agreed quietly, staring at her with that curious look again. “Though, perhaps this means that the cancelled wedding will be your luck after all.” Edwina raised her brows and he added, “At least now you know that the people approaching you are not doing so because they consider you to be perfect.”
Edwina smiled. “No … they’re only doing so, because they consider me vulnerable.” He looked at her confused and she sighed, adding, “But it does not matter. I do not wish to marry until next season. I believe some time to myself might be exactly what I need right now.”
He looked at her quietly for a moment – an odd tenderness inside his eyes. Edwina suddenly realised that this was not how one should be talking to a prince. He was not her friend; he was a stranger.
Yet he merely smiled and said, “Well, I was planning to return to town next season. I will be glad to share a dance with you then.”
Surprised, Edwina stared at him. Then, she had to chuckle. “Are you asking me for a dance several months in advance, Your Highness?”
He smiled. “I am. And please, feel free to call me Friedrich.”
Her surprise grew. Was he flirting with her? It seemed like it. But what intentions could an eligible prince have to court her, aware that she did not plan to marry at the moment?
Or perhaps he was merely trying to be nice. After all, he knew quite well how she felt. And she could certainly use a friend right now.
Therefore, she returned the smile and said, “In that case … Friedrich – please call me Edwina.”
*
Late summer in London was beautiful – mostly, because it was quiet. Almost everyone had left, including Kate and Lord Bridgerton. Of course, her sister had written her a letter fairly soon after her arrival at Aubrey Hall, inviting her to visit once the rest of the family would join them in September. But Edwina was indecisive whether to accept. Some distance might be good for them.
Kate was not the only one writing her, however.
One morning, another letter had arrived for her – to her surprise, it had been sent by Prince Friedrich.
Hastily, she went to her bedroom. She had no idea why she went to read it there and not inside the drawing room – it almost felt like hiding. There was no reason to hide. Though, she was also not too fond of people talking. They had been talking more than enough about her, after all. And receiving a letter from a prince would surely invite unwanted curiosity.
She sat down on the bed then, quickly opening the letter.
Dear Edwina,
I hope you’ve received this letter. Though, with peace finally gracing our lands, I’m certain it had a save journey.
You might wonder why I’m writing to you. And if I’m completely honest, I’m not certain of the reason either. All I can say is that you have not left my mind since that conversation we shared at your sister’s wedding. Your view on life has amazed me in a way that I feel your words are burned into my mind. You were right – no one can start over in life. But we can make the best of what we find; can make the best of our past experiences. Everyone around me is urging me to marry, as it is expected of me. But after what happened with Miss Bridgerton – well, the Duchess of Hastings – I struggled to find beauty in marriage again. Your words have made me realise that there was beauty still. And I want to thank you for that. And more than anything, I hope you can find that beauty as well.
But your words are not the only thing on my mind. Whenever I close my eyes, I see your sweet smile. It is quite enchanting. I’m not certain if you are aware of it. I doubt those men are merely approaching you, because they believe you to be vulnerable. Quite honestly, I cannot imagine anyone seeing you smile and not being utterly enthralled by it.
I hope there is a smile on your face right now. If not, I apologise for my words. They might be rather blunt. But when we talked, I felt like I could be honest with you. I did not know people without prejudice existed until I met you. I know that you will be able to forgive me for my words, if they offended you in any way. And I know that you will be genuine enough to tell me so as well. Or to simply not reply to me at all, if my compliments were not received as such.
I am aware that you do not wish to marry at the moment. This letter and my words to not signify a courtship. I merely wished to talk to you – to hear more about your life. I can imagine that, with your sister’s absence, it might be quite lonely. So if you do feel lonely, know that you have a friend – without any demands or expectations.
Sincerely,
Friedrich
Edwina stared at it – a smile so wide, it almost hurt. She must have not smiled a lot recently. But she was now. Because his compliments were sweet.
She read the last part again. Was he genuine? She would love to believe so. Because he was a sweet person. And their conversation had been stuck on her mind as well. His smile was more mesmerizing than hers ever could be; his words wiser than anything she could think of. She would like to have him as a friend. If he was merely a friend, there would be no expectations. If he was a friend, there would be no fear of lies and secrets. And he was right – she did feel quite lonely.
*
The leaves were already changing colour when Friedrich’s next letter arrived – talking about the imperfection of humanity after Edwina had replied to his previous letter by musing about perfection again.
…Humans are flawed by nature – and yet we expect perfection. It is a virtue that is unattainable. Perhaps, that’s what all virtues are in the end. There are many people who pretend to be flawless in order to deceive people; there are people who truly believe themselves to be without fault. I don’t believe that I am either. I have always aimed for perfection – but solely because it was expected of me. I never fooled myself into believing that I am without flaws, nor have I ever been anything but genuine in my words and actions. It is an art, in a way – to know when to keep quiet; to express unpleasant observations with politeness; to give compliments that – while truthful – are mostly a formality. I’m not without flaws, but I always try to hide them, as a prince should be without them; should never show his weakness.
But I do have them. I have a taste for beautiful things, which sadly does not prevent me from being shallow at times. I can be quite judgemental when it comes to other people’s taste in music and fashion and art. I give my heart away too easily, allowing for it to be broken as if I were still a little boy. Yet when the time comes, I’m too much of a coward to truly fight for what I want.
All of those are wonderful flaws to hide when striving for perfection. Everyone has to be shallow, as society rarely ever allows more meaningful conversations. A prince’s judgement easily translates to culture. A man loving to quickly is most women’s dream. And I can always excuse my cowardice for politeness and reserve. My flaws are perfect – because the only person they harm is me…
Edwina did not know how many times she had read his words, but it had been enough for her to recite them by memory when she was enjoying dinner later that evening. Instead of sleeping, she spent her night crouching at the desk, staring at a sheet of paper, wondering how to reply to such curious musings. He was honest with her. Of course, the only reply should be honesty on her part as well.
…Reading your words sometimes feels like looking inside a mirror – in a positive and negative sense. Or perhaps, only in a positive sense. Because you can make the ugly still seem so beautiful; so reassuring.
I never tried deceiving anyone by pretending to be perfect either – but yes, perfection is a virtue. And I always longed for it – longed to live a perfect life; longed for a perfect marriage, a perfect husband. I longed for love, of course. But that love was always shining like diamonds – flawless and profitable. There were expectations beyond the feeling itself. That might make me rather shallow as well.
The Viscount presented that perfection for me. And I presented it to him. Yet he was pretending, and I was lying to myself – yearning for something so much that I fooled myself into believing this to be a love story. I don’t know whether he was merely a skilled actor or whether I was incredibly gullible – perhaps both.
I would have never referred to myself as naïve before. But now, I know that I was – I know that I have not been as aware of this world as I believed to be. And I regret it. Yet how does one deal with regret? Is the past telling me to change who I am? I do not want that. I don’t want to be wary of every man I meet; I don’t want to close my heart, so it will not be broken again; I don’t want to give up on expectations of love. How can I cure my flaws without losing who I am?
*
Days without his letters felt like agony – slow and painful. Her life was dreary when she did not hear from him, and she spent her days rereading every word he had written to her.
But the bigger was the joy and excitement when finally, his reply came.
…In my opinion, not every flaw needs to be cured. They are a part of human nature, after all. Perfection does not exist. And who decides what counts as a flaw and what should be described as a virtue? Only God can do so. We are not allowed to judge.
Regret might be one of the worst feelings there is – together with guilt, perhaps. I do consider them to be quite similar. They are both lingering reminders of the past. And as we already established, we cannot outrun our past. I believe that we will always have to face our regrets and guilt.
I regretted approaching Daphne Bridgerton. I regretted not being quicker in my advances. I regretted giving my heart away too easily. And I regretted not running after her. I have none of those regrets anymore. Because I spent my sleepless night facing them. I will never stop approaching ladies simply for the fear of rejection; I feel what I feel and I will always be genuine in those feelings. I will not lose who I am, and neither should you.
Guilt is similar, yet entirely different at the same time. There are less ways to control it. Even if you rectify your past mistakes, it might not be enough. And often, you are at the mercy of other people’s forgiveness.
Before courting Daphne Bridgerton, my attentions belonged to Miss Cressida Cowper. Yet I have always fancied Miss Bridgerton – my heart had belonged to her the moment I had laid eyes on her. I left Miss Cowper the moment my advances had been accepted. I had done the same to her as the Duchess had later done to me. When I was in town last time, I tried talking to her – yet she ignored me. Which is her right. But it is an unbearable feeling. I believe the only way to move on from it is to ensure that the same actions won’t cause harm again…
This had taken an unexpected turn. She felt guilt as well – guilt towards Kate. They had talked it through, but the guilt still lingered. And she knew her sister felt the same.
Does Lord Bridgerton feel the same?
She doubted it. After all, he had never even apologised to her. He clearly did not care. He was blissfully happy. Yet he did not deserve it.
Kate deserved it, more than anyone. But Lord Bridgerton did not.
And it was the reason why she did not visit her sister at Aubrey Hall, even when the first snow began to fall and every single one of her letters contained an invitation. They were allowed to be happy – and Edwina was allowed to avoid seeing it.
It took her a while to reply to Friedrich’s letter. She wanted to tell him her feelings. Yet they were too embarrassing to admit. They had promised each other honesty though. If she was not able to be honest with him, she could not reply to him at all.
Eventually, she gathered all her courage and sent her reply.
…Guilt truly is an unbearable feeling. Even forgiveness can fail to ease it.
After the whole fiasco with the wedding, I was quite harsh to my sister – reminding her that she is merely my half-sister. It had hurt her. But that was why I had said it.
She has forgiven me, but my stomach still aches whenever I remember it. Anger created those words. And anger might be yet another unbearable feeling.
I’ve been wondering whether other people are musing about guilt and regret the same way as we are right now. I’m certain that Lord Bridgerton is not. And the realisation just makes me so overwhelmingly angry. But I don’t want to feel that way – don’t want to feel anything in his regard. I wish I never had to see him again. But of course that is not a possibility. So what shall I do?
And even worse than anger is jealousy. I don’t wish to be jealous – my sister deserves all the happiness in the world. But why – after everything that happened – are they the ones receiving their happy ending, and I’m not? Why is Lord Bridgerton allowed to be happy, while I’m doomed to be miserable?
I hate having those thoughts. Please add them to our list of flaws and reasons for guilt. But I cannot help it. I know we have to face the past. But I am desperate to simply forget about everything…
*
His letter took too long. She feared her honesty had scared him. Though, it might be for the better. She longed for someone who was able to understand her – even the worst parts of her. And his opinion should not matter to her. They had only seen each other once. They were still strangers.
But not strangers enough. Because eventually, his letter arrived, and relief washed over Edwina as she hurried inside her bedroom, quickly opening it.
…I always considered anger and jealousy quite embarrassing feelings. Perhaps, because they are strong and unyielding; because they make one realise that we are all just children in the end; because they show us how people we dislike can still haunt us.
I can understand your anger and jealousy. I have felt it myself. Although, it might be harder for you. I have no relation to the Duke and Duchess, and showing mere formality the few times I might meet them would be acceptable. But I can say that what helped me deal with anger was a proper conversation. It did not make it vanish, but it eased it. In your case, it might be even more necessary.
I have not defeated the jealousy completely yet. But I believe the source for it is yet another horrible feeling: loneliness.
The question you are asking yourself is the same I’ve been wondering about constantly: why are other people allowed to be happy, but I am not? What sins have I committed to not be granted such fortune?
Though, I have to say that these letters to you have cured a good part of that loneliness. With every word I write, I am already longing for your reply. I wish to talk to you again – to see you. I desperately hope that we can meet each other again soon…
*
And so they did.
He was present at the very first ball of the new season – approaching her almost immediately.
They talked and laughed. It was different from the letters, yet still oddly familiar. He seemed like a stranger she had known forever.
And apparently, he shared her sentiment, as he told her then, “I have to say that it almost feels as if we’ve spent the past year at each other’s side. Whenever I read your letters, I imagined your voice – your smile; your laughter. In my memory, you were standing inside my study, reading them to me.”
Edwina chuckled. “I feel the same. Although I have not seen your face in many months, I do feel as if I know you better than most people I see every day. Letters are a beautiful thing.”
“Well, they do give you time to think,” he replied with that wonderful smile. “Time to muse about life. Most conversations are not as patient.”
“Which means letters also make it quite easy to lie,” Edwina stated quietly, her smile vanishing.
He looked at her silently for a moment – almost sombre, yet oddly tender.
“Perhaps. But they make it equally easy to be honest – to speak from the heart.”
That was true as well. But how could one know whether letters were honest or false?
“You’ve still not fulfilled your promise,” he said suddenly.
Surprised, Edwina raised her brows. “My promise?”
Now, he smiled at her again. “You promised me a dance.”
At that, the smile returned to Edwina’s face as well. “Well, you have not asked me yet,” she replied.
“I have already done so several months ago,” he reminded her with a grin.
She chuckled. “Well, in that case – would you like to lead me to the dancefloor, Your Highness?”
“It would be my pleasure, Miss Sharma.”
He reached out his hand and Edwina gladly took it. They joined the dancefloor for a waltz – silent for a moment, as his arms gently wrapped around her, leading her to the music.
It was oddly comfortable. His eyes were shining in the light of the chandeliers, a million stars hidden inside. Her heart eased at the sight and she wondered how there could ever be any worries in life.
“Is it not horrible how constantly giving compliments out of formality can make those compliments seem weary?” he asked suddenly, startling Edwina. “Usually, I would tell the lady I am dancing with how beautiful she is. It is never a lie,” he added. “But it is expected nonetheless. And I would love to tell you that as well, but it just seems so … superficial.”
She bit her lip, smiling. “I’m certain every lady will be glad to be called beautiful,” she told him. Then, she examined his face silently before asking, “If this was a letter, what would you tell me then?”
He looked at her for a while – patient with his words and tender with his eyes.
“That you are the only person I see inside this room,” he said eventually, his voice gentle. “That your eyes mesmerize me like a spell, and that I’m at the verge of losing myself within them.” A soft smile appeared on his face and he then asked, “What would you write?”
“That I feel the same,” she replied – then biting her lip, and realising her hurry, she took a moment to think of her words and added, “That I could continue dancing in your arms for all eternity without every growing tired of it.”
His smile widened. It was a beautiful sight. Another thing she would never grow tired of.
*
The next morning, Edwina woke up to a bouquet of flowers delivered to her by Friedrich, and at the ball this evening, they danced again. That should be enough for people to start talking. But it did not bother her. They were honest with each other. People’s lies could not harm their truth.
“May we step outside for some fresh air?” Friedrich asked after their dance.
“Of course,” Edwina replied with a smile. A moment of quiet in his company was a wonderful idea.
Naturally, they stayed near the entrance, so they would not truly be alone. When Friedrich turned to her, there was no smile anymore – though the tenderness remained.
“I will have to leave again,” he told her then. “Sadly, peace did not last. But I promise that I will be back soon.”
Now, Edwina’s smile vanished.
“You cannot promise that,” she stated plainly.
“You are right,” he agreed. “But I will do so nonetheless.” Then, a gentle smile appeared on his lips as suddenly, he took her hands into his. In that moments, Edwina’s heart began pounding against her chest. She did not know what was happening – but it was so overwhelming, she almost forgot how to breathe. “And once I return … what if you come with me to my home?” he asked. “To meet my family?”
Surprised, Edwina stared at him. He was still smiling, but she could not return his joy.
“Will they not find it odd?” she asked then, hoping her suspicion at his intentions was incorrect. “For you to bring some random girl you met during your time away?”
“Well, I would hope to be introducing you as the woman I wish to marry.”
And there it was.
Edwina pulled her hands out of his touch and stuttered, “I … I need to return.”
Without waiting for his reply, she rushed back inside and through the crowd.
“Everything alright?”
Startled, Edwina turned around. It was Kate – walking towards her with concern on her face.
Edwina forced herself to a smile. “Yes. I’m just … tired. I believe I should return home.”
Suddenly, Lord Bridgerton appeared next to them.
“I saw you dancing with Prince Friedrich earlier,” he stated with a smile. “You seemed quite comfortable with one another.”
Now, she tensed.
“It was merely a dance,” she stated.
His smile vanished. And the concern on Kate’s face grew.
“Edwina-”
“Please, I’m tired,” Edwina interrupted her. “Let me leave before anyone else approaches me. You know how much I hate to be rude, and should anyone talk to me, I will be stuck here.”
It seemed for a moment as if Kate wanted to retort something – but then, she merely nodded and Edwina quickly went to find her mother, so that they could return home.
*
Sleep had been troublesome. She had believed that he understood her. Surely, he must knew that she was not yet ready – must knew that she might never be. He was supposed to be her friend, not her admirer.
Of course she relished his admiration. But only for as long as it was a part of the present. She did not need to think about the future.
It was embarrassing how she had run away. Like a child. But there had been no words to tell him anymore.
She needed to find those words, however. As they met again in the afternoon, when Edwina tried enjoying the warm sun of spring, strolling through the park.
Of course, she could not reject his wish to talk. Her mother and Lady Danbury kept their distance as they continued walking.
“I want to apologise,” he told her quietly. “I know you feel odd about marriage, but … you said you might wish to marry this season, and with me leaving again soon, I just … I just wanted to ask you before my departure.”
He was looking at his feet – guilt and regret clear on his face.
“It’s alright,” she replied, a small smile forming on her lips. “I took no offence. I just …”
She trailed off then, biting her lip.
“It’s fine,” he told her, looking up at her. “I would be the last person to demand an answer from you.”
“You said there would be no expectations,” she reminded him then, the smile leaving her face again.
“There are none,” he replied immediately. “But …” He looked down for a moment before he said, “I cannot lie to you. My heart is at your mercy. My dreams are in your control. I love you, Edwina,” he added – his voice and eyes so tender, her heart began to ache. “And that is merely the truth.”
She could feel the tears well up in her eyes. “Love is quite the expectation,” she whispered. “Would you truly be fine to be my friend, even if I do not marry you?”
“All I know is that I do not wish to imagine a life without you,” he replied, his voice hoarse. “But I neither wish for you to agree to anything until you are ready. Although, in all honest, I fear you are more likely to do the opposite.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” he stated. “And it does not matter whether it’s me or someone else. One day, you will have to take the leap. So should you be married upon my return, I will be more than happy for you.”
*
His absence was quite noticeable. He had written her a letter, talking about his days, but Edwina had not found the strength to reply yet.
I love you.
Words so sweet, and yet so painful. Being loved by someone like him was the highest of compliments. And Edwina longed for nothing more than to relish the beautiful melody of his words. But she could not.
She had allowed herself to lean onto him – to bare her heart. And the short moment she had believed him to be a liar had hurt her more than words could ever describe.
Still, she thought about him constantly. During the day, she wondered what he might be doing right now – whether her was well and unharmed. At night, she dreamt of him – some dreams too forbidden to even think about during daylight.
When she finally saw him again, it was different.
Her joy was contained as she kept her heart sealed. But she could not prevent the excitement from rushing through her veins when she heard his laughter again. And there was something else … an urge inside of her, longing for him to touch her again; to take her hands into his; to let his fingers brush across her bare skin; to take her into his warm embrace and kiss her.
Now, whenever she looked at him, she could only remember her dreams – and flustered, her eyes were seeking anything to stare at but his lips.
They shared yet another dance with musings of life. He did not send her flowers again; did not try courting her. And there was a very small part inside of her that felt disappointed.
Stop being silly!, she reminded herself. You didn’t want for him to court you!
He was still a friend – yet it was different. She felt awkward around him at times. And she could always feel his gaze on her – staring at her silently, but not approaching.
Except for a dance.
They always shared one dance. And it was the one thing Edwina was looking forward to whenever she attended a ball. And it was the one thing she would miss the most once this season came to an end.
“He’s a great man.”
Startled, Edwina turned away from observing the dancing crowd as Anthony Bridgerton was approaching her with a curious smile.
She frowned. “Who are you talking about, my lord?”
He smirked. “You know who. He’s upright and honourable,” he added. “Any woman should count herself lucky to be courted by him – and not just because he’s a prince.”
“Since when do you care about a woman’s fortune?”
His smile vanished at that.
“I’m merely saying that he’s a wonderful match,” he replied, and after observing her quietly for a moment, he added with a small smile back on his face, “Don’t think too much about it. He’s the last person anyone has to be wary about.”
“I do not need your advice, Lord Bridgerton.”
He narrowed his brows, looking at her in curious silence for a moment. “Do you not?” he asked. “It’s almost been a year since you met the Prince, and yet here you are – allowing him to court you, but always reserved. He is more than willingly to marry you – so why won’t you accept? There has to be a reason.”
Edwina stared at him – his last words weighing down her heart.
“He talked to you,” she stated.
Why would he do that?, she wondered. What were his intentions? She knew Friedrich was a good man – a kind man. Surely, his intentions must have been purely innocent and honourable.
But Anthony Bridgerton used to be a good man as well, she reminded herself.
“We shared a short conversation, yes,” Lord Bridgerton replied. “And it made me believe that I should probably talk to you and-“
“And what?”, she interrupted him sharply. “Please, go ahead and tell me your intentions, sir. Because I struggle to figure those out myself. Is it to ease your guilt?” she asked, staring at him as his tense face remained silent. “Well, if that is the case, perhaps I should feel honoured that you do feel guilty. Or are you wishing for my forgiveness?” she added. “Because I can promise you that I will not grant you that. So why exactly are you disrupting my life again?”
“I’m not disrupting your life,” he retorted – with a voice so calm, it made her even angrier. “I’m a part of it now – we are a family. And despite what you might believe, I very much care for your happiness.”
The calmness of his voice could not hide the tension in his eyes, and Edwina decided to challenge it.
“Do you?” she scoffed. “Because I cannot remember a single moment that made me believe that you do care about what might bring me happiness. Did you care when you were perusing me relentlessly – enticing me with sweet compliments you never truly meant? Or did you care for my happiness when you chose to propose to me, while secretly being in love with my sister?” His jaw clenched, but he remained silent. “When exactly did you ever wish for my happiness? You never even cared to really talk to me until now. The moment I decided not to marry you, I was of no interest to you anymore. You didn’t even bother to apologise,” she added with a sneer. “Do you not believe an apology should’ve been the first thing? Before trying to give me advice on how to move on from all the trouble you have caused?”
The silence was so heavy that she could not hear any music or laughter. She was only waiting for his reaction – his face blank again, as if he was trying to hide any possible emotion.
“So you do admit it,” he said eventually. “You are reluctant to marry him because of me.”
Edwina had never been one to even think of using violence – but in this moment, she wished for nothing more than slap that callous, arrogant face as hard as possible.
Yet she was still at a ball. And then, she realised how people had started turning their heads into their direction.
She took a deep breath, and biting her tongue, she replied as calm as possibly, “I don’t have to admit anything. My problems should not concern you. What should trouble you is that you very well know the answer and yet still cannot feel any form of guilt.”
And with that, she turned around, the last piece of pride still intact.
She was already on her way outside – when suddenly, her eyes caught one of the many stares following her.
Prince Friedrich was watching her with a smile. And Edwina should probably continue her way outside, away from the curious gazes. But anger was still filling her veins and controlling her steps. And so, she was firmly walking towards him.
His smile vanished as she came closer, but before he could say anything, she asked, “Did you talk to the Viscount?”
His mouth opened, staring at her in confusion.
“Edwina-“
“And I thought I could trust you!” she interrupted him sharply. “It is hilarious how Lord Bridgerton was just talking about you in highest regard – and silently, I was agreeing with him. But you were right – everyone has flaws; everyone makes mistakes. Yet there are certain things that are unforgivable.”
She turned around, not waiting for a reply. She was aware that people were still watching her, but she did not care. The betrayal cut too deep for her to be concerned by some strangers’ opinions.
She hurried along the corridor, grabbed her shawl from a footman and then went outside and down the stairs, which led towards the street.
At the bottom, she halted. It was dark and she had no idea where their carriage was.
“Edwina!”
His voice shuttered through the air and she froze. She had not expected for him to run after her.
“I did not mean to tell him anything,” she heard Friedrich say as his footsteps came closer. “And believe me, I never told him about anything you wrote in your letters.” At that, she turned around – silently looking at him as he slowed down before halting on the last step. “It was a misplaced comment I made – that is all. I …” He sighed, taking the last step down. “We were talking. And he was going on about how happy he was – about his wedding and marriage. Without a single mention on what had transpired before that – without a single mention of you. I grew angry. I muttered something foolish. And I could already tell by the look in his eyes that he had heard it quite clearly. But I just thought good – it might make him think.”
She stared at him. Was he telling the truth? She could see the honesty in his eyes – the plea, asking for her forgiveness.
Lord Bridgerton had lied to her many times, without her even realising. She had never seen this look on his face.
Edwina stared down to her feet, muttering, “It’s embarrassing...”
“What did he say?”
At that, she looked up again. His face was gentle. And without thinking about it, Edwina began to tell him what had just transpired.
He listened quietly and keenly, and after she had finished, he asked, “Do you want my opinion?” Carefully, she nodded. “I believe he did feel guilty. But he does not have the necessary tactfulness to articulate it.”
Edwina narrowed her brows. “Are you defending him?”
“No,” he replied immediately, shaking his head. “But I believe a conversation to be good – even if it is an argument. Be angry. Be jealous,” he told her. “You have every right to be. And you also have the right to forgive – or to not forgive. It won’t matter to him. He is happy. Your sister is happy. And they are allowed to be. You are the only one who still has to deal with all this trouble – so deal with it in any way you see fit. This is your life, after all. Choose what makes you happy.”
Edwina was staring at him, unable to think of a reply. Suddenly, more footsteps were approaching. It was her mother hurrying down the stairs, asking what happened.
Edwina gave her a smile and told her an innocent lie as Friedrich excused himself, returning inside. Yet his words remained on her mind.
This is your life, after all.
It did not feel like it. In truth, it never had been hers. There had been a clear plan for her ever since her father’s death: to marry a wealthy man, so that she and her family would be safe. And she had loved the idea. But that plan had collapsed right in front of her eyes. Now, she did not know where to go or what to wish for anymore.
*
Yet again, there were no flowers by Friedrich welcoming her the next morning. Instead, she was greeted with an unexpected visit by her sister.
Thankfully, Kate had never hesitated speaking her mind. Soon after they had settled for breakfast, she said, “I know Anthony talked to you and-“
“Please don’t,” Edwina interrupted her. “This is between him and me. Don’t defend him, don’t talk for him.”
Kate looked at her silently. Then, with a careful smile, she asked, “May I apologise for him?”
At that, Edwina had to return a small smile. Yet she remained quiet, so her sister added, “I did not know all this still troubles you so much.”
There was worry on her face. Edwina hated it.
“I have forgiven you,” she told her immediately. “And you have forgiven me. But what happened … it cuts deeper than this. I…”
She took a deep breath as Kate continued staring at her silently, a question inside her eyes. So, Edwina told her about Friedrich – the letters and conversations and his love confession and his wish for marriage. And she also told her about her own uncertainty and fear and anger.
“I just want to find love,” she told her sister then. “True love. But I have no idea how.”
There was a small smile on Kate’s lips. “Well … from what you just told me, I believe you found it.”
“But what if I didn’t?” Edwina asked then, her voice desperate. “What if he’s not as genuine as I believe him to be?”
“What does your heart tell you?”
“How does that matter?” she asked. “My heart told me that the Viscount was genuine as well”
“In the same way?”
Edwina stared at her, remaining silent. She knew the answer. But it was still terrifying.
*
He did not approach her at the next ball.
Edwina had seen him shortly upon entering, and after greeting the host, her eyes had been searching for him. Yet he had vanished.
“I believe he went outside.”
Startled, she turned around. And to her dismay, it was Lord Bridgerton standing next to her – examining her face with his dark eyes, as if trying to read her mind.
Edwina turned away.
“I want to apologise,” she heard him say then. “For my words last time. You had every right to be angry. And I wish to apologise for what happened last year as well. My actions have been appalling, I am aware of that. And I am also sorry for never apologizing before.”
For a moment, Edwina was merely staring at the shoes of a couple floating across the dance floor. Then, she took a deep breath and turned to face him.
“Was that truly so difficult to say?” she asked.
He narrowed his brows. “Did you truly needed to hear it so desperately?”
She wanted to retort something – but there was no anger.
“I don’t know,” she told him honestly, tired of everything. “What I needed was to not be discarded. I wish I would’ve received a proper explanation. I wish …” She sighed. “I wish it would’ve troubled you as much as it troubled me.” He stared at her surprised. “I know that’s not fair. And as you cannot turn back time, there is not much you could have done, but … but I wish you would’ve tried nonetheless.”
He remained silent for a moment. Then, he took a deep breath and said, “When I talked to you yesterday, I did so out of guilt – and concern. The reason I never felt that way before was … well, because you seemed fine. Perhaps I even thought that you felt relieved. You chose to leave me, after all.”
It was true, of course. Yet she doubted her rejection had been as painful as what he had done to her.
But she remained quiet. And so Lord Bridgerton continued saying, “If it is an explanation you need, you can talk to me. If it is silence you need from me, then be my guest. But don’t let what happened ruin your future. And I’m not telling you this to ease my guilt or to beg for your forgiveness – I’m telling you to do it for your own sake.”
She stared at him silently. It was similar to what Friedrich had told her yesterday.
The Viscount gave her a quick smile and nod, then turned around to leave again.
He would be fine – he was fine. Even if he did truly feel guilty, he was still happy. It was not fair. But there was no way for her to change that.
Edwina’s eyes continued searching the crowd for Friedrich’s face. Then, she remembered that Lord Bridgerton had told her that he had gone outside.
Her feet did not move, however. Was it worth is?
‘What does your heart tell you?’ Kate had asked.
Her heart longed for him; but it also ached. Was he the cure for that pain or the cause? Perhaps both.
‘Choose what makes you happy’, Friedrich had told her.
But what would make her happy? His letters had made her incredibly happy. The dreams about him had made her happy. He brought her pain and happiness alike. Was that not an utterly horrible thing?
‘I love you’ he had confessed to her and Edwina knew that he had been genuine; knew that he understood her troubles; knew that he would always be honest with her.
‘When two hearts are intertwined, there is a trust that will tell you the truth’, her mother had once told her.
Edwina knew what she meant now. Yet her heart was also afraid.
‘One day, you will have to take the leap.’
Edwina took a deep breath. Then, she rushed through the crowd and towards the garden.
He was standing there between the trees, all on his own. His back turned to her, the moonlight was glistening in his golden hair. He looked beautiful.
She walked towards him then. And he noticed her, as he suddenly turned around – his eyes filled with wonder and his mouth already opened to talk. But Edwina did not need his words – not right now. Instead, she followed her heart’s desire.
Her hand pushed into his hair, pulling his face down as she pressed her lips against his. She could feel his body tense for a moment – but then his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into warmth and comfort.
Oh, what a wonderful feeling that was.
She opened her mouth to taste more of him. But then, she pulled back – breathing heavily as she said, “Take me to your home. Introduce me to your family as the woman you wish to marry. They will wonder why I’m not yet wearing a ring, but who cares. It is not perfect.” A wide smile appeared on her face as he stared at her, bewildered. “I just want to spend all my time with you – be by your side, with or without marriage,” she added as her hands were brushing across the lapels of his coat. “Let us be together and see where life takes us. And then one day, I might give you the answer you’re longing for. And I’m hopeful I will. Because I, too, love you.”
She gasped, surprised at her own words. She had been talking so fast, there had been no time to think. She had to laugh then as his eyes widened, a wonderous smile appearing on his lips.
“And it is terrifying me,” she added. “But I cannot give up on you out of sheer fear. So may I come with you this summer? Will you have me by your side?”
He was still staring at her – wonder and confusion and excitement glistening in his eyes.
“Of course,” he breathed. Then, he laughed. “I would not have it any other way.” His hands were softly brushing along her arms with the widest smile on his face. “But I do have one wish.”
“Yes?”
He bit his lip then, leaning closer.
“Please…” he whispered. “Kiss me again.”
Edwina chuckled. She let her hand wander back into his hair as his tender gaze was observing her soul. Then, she pulled him down again, closing her eyes. The moment their lips touched, she opened her mouth – and as their tongues intertwined, she knew she had taken the right path. This was happiness. This made her forget about any other troubles. This made her feel safe. He was all she needed. Her life was hers. This was her choice. And no matter what happened, she knew there would be no regret. There would be no fear.
Hii 👋🏾 if you are still taking requests for the touch prompts, I'd love to see 33 (kissing or hugs) with fredwina. good luck with the WIPs! Sending writing luck and energy 💖💖
33. Kissing it better
"Did you really duel Lord Carlisle?" Edwina demands from the doorway, hands on her hips. Her tone is more exasperated than angry, but still if anyone else were to hear her there would be more than a few raised eyebrows that she would dare to address a prince so casually.
Then again, if anyone else were here just the fact of Edwina's presence at such a late hour would cause a scandal and no amount of formality would save her.
It's a stupid risk to take, really, but she simply couldn't sit in her room and wait for tomorrow after she heard.
"It was not a duel," Friedrich replies mildly, but he doesn't rise to greet her or even turn his head from where he sits in a large leather armchair, facing the fireplace; all Edwina can see is one shoulder and the edge of his head, his golden curls limned with orange in the firelight. She frowns. "Officially, it was a friendly bout of fencing."
Edwina snorts quietly. From what she's heard, it very quickly became unfriendly.
"And unofficially?"
"Unofficially . . . I was giving him a lesson. One I trust he has learned."
A lesson, indeed.
Edwina moves further into the room, coming to a halt just behind his chair. Lifting a hand, she reaches as though to touch his shoulder but stops short, nerves twisting in her stomach. Why won't he look at her?
"What lesson was it you felt he needed, if I may ask?"
There's a pause before Friedrich says, "That you are to be respected, or there will be consequences."
It's both the answer she had hoped for and feared. A part of had wondered if she was thinking too much of herself, to wonder if it had been because of her - but what else could it have been? It's only been two days since Lord Carlisle insulted her at Lady Trowbridge's ball with his crass insinuations about her failure of a wedding. Could he really have done something to insult Friedrich that badly in the time since?
Her heart seems to swell and beat a little faster in her chest, but at the same time a twinge of annoyance ripples through her.
"That's very noble of you, but you really shouldn't have bothered. Carlisle's comments would have been forgotten by next week but people will talk about this. For days. It will almost certainly be in Whistledown. You know that, don't you?"
"I do not care what your Whistledown prints. I do not understand why everybody else does so much. Even my aunt. It is ridiculous, and I have told her such."
He's still not looking at her. Scowling, Edwina marches around the chair.
"That is not the point, and you know - oh!"
Her stomach drops.
Friedrich has tried to turn his face away but too late, and winces when he realises she's seen. There is a long thin cut running down the side of his left cheek - made with a fencing foil, she assumes - but that is nothing compared to the spectacular bruising he is sporting. His left eye is blackened, his cheek swollen. It will take days, weeks maybe, for it all to fade.
"Friedrich -"
"Do not worry, schatz. It looks worse than it is. Nothing is broken. And you should see Carlisle."
She's really not sure she wants to, although she will admit a small, vengeful part feels a twist of satisfaction at the idea. (Well. Perhaps not so small. Edwina has learned this past year that she's rather good at holding grudges.)
"Have you seen a doctor?"
"Of course."
She sighs. "Freddie. You shouldn't have done it."
He raises an eyebrow (only to immediately looks like he regrets it). "I was not going to do nothing."
"I'm sure there are other ways you could have handled it. Less violent ways," she says pointedly.
Friedrich muses over this for a moment, laying his chin on his palm. A book lies discarded in his lap that he must have been reading before she came in, and he sets it aside on a small end table stood by the chair.
"Perhaps there were," he concedes. "But I thought this was the way he would pay the most attention to. And I will admit, it made me feel a little better as well."
"Better about what?"
He meets her gaze solemnly, the dim lighting making his blue eyes seem almost black.
"About the fact that I cannot do anything else. That I cannot change why he felt entitled to make such remarks to begin with."
Brow furrowing in confusion, Edwina gives a little shake of her head. "I don't understand."
"I cannot go back in time and change what happened to you last year," Friedrich explains, his smile soft and sad and terrible. "I cannot undo the things that make it so hard for you to let me get close to you. I cannot call out those responsible now without making things worse. I cannot stop people thinking the things they do - but at least now some might think twice before saying anything."
As he speaks Edwina's vision blurs and she realises with a start that it's because tears are gathering along her lashes. Her heart swells again, and she doesn't think her body is big enough to contain all she's feeling; it's like she might come apart at the seams any moment.
"You still shouldn't have done it," she says, blinking the tears away before they fall and embarrass her. "You do not need to fix all that is broken for me."
He shrugs. "I may not need to, but I want to."
He says it so simply, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. But Edwina has been piecing herself back together for a year and she knows it is not. She has cut herself to bloody ribbons doing it, shard by jagged shard, and she is terrified that if she lets Friedrich try she will only end up wounding him as well.
(What terrifies her more is that despite that, she still wants to let him try.)
". . . . I am grateful for that."
He cocks his head towards her, mischief suddenly glimmering in his eyes. "You know, if you are truly grateful, schatz, you might show it by kissing my wounds better. It would help them heal faster, I am sure."
The strange, tense thread coiling around her snaps. Edwina lets out a sound of amused disbelief, and rolls her eyes.
"Hmph. I can I see you really are well, then. Which is what I wanted to assure myself of - so I will take my leave, Your Highness, and hurry home before anyone realises I am gone."
"So cruel," Friedrich sighs. "Very well, meine Liebe, I shall see you tomorrow and you may scold me in public so everyone knows you disapprove, if you wish."
"Don't think I won't."
She leaves him chuckling and starts towards the door, but halfway there pauses, hesitates, her heart thudding against her ribs -- then turns and practically runs back.
Friedrich has picked his book back up again and looks up in surprise when Edwina suddenly appears around the side of his chair again. His eyes widen further when she gently cups his face with one hand and leans down to softly kiss the wound on his cheek and his blackened eye. They are only gossamer-light kisses, her lips barely brushing the skin for fear of hurting him further, but she feels each one through her entire body.
When she pulls back Friedrich is staring up at her, expression awed and wondering, looking at her in a way no one else ever has and which makes it difficult to breath.
"Just in case," she whispers, and starts to leave again, but Friedrich grabs her hand and stops her.
"You forgot one," he tells her. "I also cut my lip."
Before she can say anything, his hand is tangled in her hair and his mouth is pressed to hers.
His lips are soft and warm, and taste faintly of the brandy he must have been drinking before she arrived. They move slowly against hers, drawing out this single, brief, stolen kiss as long as possible, and when he draws back she feels seared down to the bone, and oh, but she wants so much more.
There's a glint in his eye that tells her he knows that.
"I don't see a cut," she tells him archly, glancing down at his lips to avoid his gaze, trying it ignore the fact that she is blushing furiously.
Friedrich just grins as he lets her go. "Of course not. You kissed it better."
"You're terrible. Do you know that?"
"Perhaps. But you love me, nonetheless."
She doesn't answer, just throws him a look. But as she heads to the door she can't help thinking that he's right - she does love him. She really, really does.
