her pen had rested in her hand while she read over her psychology summary, whether or not hues, pigments of, actually affected the disposition of a person. she had immersed herself in the quiet around her, apart from the whisperings of those nearby that were indiscernible to her. there was no hesitation in hana to respond when defined starting of a conversation reached her, not a second spent before her eyes came up on eleanor across from her. “it might take me longer than you have.” hana admits quietly, turning her pen over, “but if you need me to find someone more readily available i can do that.” it wouldn’t be hard to find someone black tie ready, but then it was more a matter of finding someone worth putting in a black tie. “why? has something come up?”
« so, correct me if i’m wrong, » she replies, brow raised slightly. « you’re telling me you have absolutely zero presentable dresses, let alone like ... a suit, readily available? » it’s a strange concept to her, who has lived most of her life floating from one black tie event to another, that there were people out there who hardly ever changed out of their casualwear. « i suppose you could call it that, yes. charity dinner. dad wants me to bring someone. »
bridget’s heart stuck in her throat when nora spoke again, she tried to not freeze in place and make it obvious that she was affected by the thought but the fact remained that it was a possibility. it was possible that her mother had told another person about her affair, it was possible that percy might one day tell someone, it was possible that her entire life could be ripped from her and from what fault of her own besides being a royal bastard ? “ if i get a say, i want to go to fiji. tropical paradise to wait out a scandal ? yes please. ”
« and what if it doesn’t blow over? » nora asks, weighing the fabric of a coat - a green, tartan one from miu miu, she thinks - as if the feel of the fabric will somehow make her less indecisive. « not everything can be silenced. but whatever, i’m sure you know that plenty well on your own. and it’s not like you’ve got anything hidden either. »
Percy had just sat down for meal at hall when he realised that he sat himself down right across a person he knew. Face almost turning into a scowl, he would have left, but then Nora looked up and he could only give her a puzzled look for all of two seconds until he burst out laughing. “What do you think of me?” he asked. “I already have some Dege & Skinner in my luggage at my room.” He shrugged. “Of course, I was planning to go meet someone at a rave for some shrooms and stuff, and I reckon you’re going to invite me to something far less appealing.”
« what do i think of you? » she replies back with a smile, not wanting to give him the answer at the tip of her tongue: i don’t. which is a lie, but she’s yet to compartmentalise what she actually feels. jealousy, for the most part. that he gets do things, be around people, be an actual person. « commonwealth dinner. my parents had the bright idea that i should ‘bring someone from uni’, and i need someone who knows how to hold a fork, so, you’re an obvious candidate. i don’t know if i can make it more appealing than a rave, but i promise to keep my mouth shut should you want to ... steal some silverware or something. »
UNBELIEVABLE, nora thought to herself as the message on her phone display glared back at her. she had a function to attend in less than five hours, a function that had been on the calendar for months, and her parents had decided now was a good time to tell her that they wanted her to bring someone from uni. to make her seem more sociable, they’d said. « so, » she began, turning to the person seated opposite her. « what are your plans this evening, and perhaps more importantly, how quickly could you get a hold of black tie attire? »
“ i do hate them, ” bridget responded as she made her way back into the room. “ but they’ll match this hideous thing that i’m being made to wear. ” she gestured to the dress that would have been far better suited on eleanor, but it no longer shocked her, she knew they all wanted her to just be more like her perfect prissy princess cousin. “ they’re not wrong, i was planning on seeing sab this afternoon. and they act as if any reputable paper picked up the story, tatler doesn’t count. ”
even if nora had had a rebuttal, there was little use for it. because, while the royal family weren’t exactly starving in the secrets department, the fact that nora for the most part didn’t choose her own outfits was not one of them. or rather, it wasn’t like other people dressed her, but it was very difficult to be provocative when everything you owned came with at least a 3/4 sleeve. « i just wish you’d be ... a little more careful. one day something’s going to come out that we can’t cover. and what do we do then? renounce you? ship you off to some far-away corner of the commonwealth?»
“ nora ! ” she yelled from the bathroom as she touched up her lipstick. “ can i borrow the shoes you wore during the edinburgh visit ? the nude ones. ” they’d match the dress she was wearing well enough, though she knew she’d end up looking more like a presidential barbie doll than herself. “ i still don’t understand why we have to have another dinner with the chancellor, the last time we did this he watched us both as if we were the meal. he’s not even good looking. ”
« thought you said you hated them, » nora replied, shuffling mindlessly through her coats in an attempt to find one that didn’t, in some form, remind her of her brother. « it’s important to have good rapport with the government, papa says. whatever that means. and let’s be real, you’re only coming with because your parents fear you’ll get caught up in another coke-fueled scandal if they leave you be for the afternoon. »
[ ginny gardner, female, she/her, twenty-one ] — have you seen eleanor windsor, the history and politics student around oxford yet ? i hear they can be insincere and pristine, but those who know them insist they’re reminded of rooms falling silent, pearls, raising an eyebrow when no one is looking, clean sheets when they’re around. rumour has it that her family is covering up the death of her brother. is it true ? only time will tell…
i ... kinda got bullied into bringing two of my old characters. nora is a muse from 2017, and i’ve been dying to use her again so !! here goes.
death tw, drug tw, overdose tw, bad parenting (???) tw
background
the windsors - where to begin? when charles, crown prince to the british throne, married margaret whiteley, the public let out a sigh of relief. she was all they’d hoped for in a future queen - from old money, well-spoken, and above all, cloaked in that cold charm that made you believe every word that left her lips. a year after the wedding bells of westminster abbey had chimed, their first son, thomas, saw the light of day. and, four years later, eleanor, who the public affectionately named nora.
while in public, they were the image of the perfect family - never a strand of hair out of place, all smiles - things were far less ideal. two days before nora’s second birthday, her grandfather passed away, and thus, making charles king. and if the windsors had been image-obsessed before, this didn’t make it any better. sometimes, she still remembers being five, hearing her father shouting at her brother for having used the wrong tense in an interview. he was nine. anything that could be misconstrued, turned into a scandal, a pr nightmare, was to be avoided at all costs.
they say that pressure turns coal into diamonds. and, in the case of nora, it’s most certainly the case. she’s eloquent, intelligent, a diligent worker, the darling of any media outlet, knowing exactly what to say, what to wear, and what to do to please both the public and her parents. but this constant attention from the press, wanting to know absolute every last detail about her, honestly, rather disappointing life, has rendered her insecure, almost to the point of parody. she’s the first one to point out other people’s flaws, mainly because she’s so obsessed with her own.
secret
this diamond allegory isn’t universal, unfortunately. sometimes, it seems, the coal cracks. perhaps it was his parents, perhaps it was the prospect of one day being king, but thomas couldn’t hack it. and so, he turned to cocaine. as with any other drug, he needed bigger and bigger quanitities to get anything out of it. until, eventually, it went wrong, and he was discovered lifeless in his room by a member of staff. not wanting to face the scandal of having a son that was, well, an addict, the windsors and their pr-team covered it up. offered up some sob story about a heart attack. and to their relief, the public ate it up. and so, out of a horrible situation came something even worse: the title of being crown princess, and the knowledge of just how far her parents were willing to stretch the truth if it meant keeping their record clean.
