silk chiffon

[Prince Leopold]

Parties such as these were easy enough. Leopold always carried an air of easy charm about him, able to conjure a devilish dimple in his cheek to accompany his crooked smile, and more often than not, all sins were forgiven. It certainly helped that he was a prince, even if a relatively newly minted one. He spoke the english language well, like any other man of standing, but having spent so much time between Coburg, France, and Russia in recent years, deviations from the textbook could vex him. Even so, when he misunderstood something in a lady’s english accent, his mistake was taken with a pretty flush instead of a wrinkled nose.

There was only one face he wished to make flush prettily. Hell, he would settle for a wrinkled nose, if only it was attached to Princess Charlotte. Neither was a possibility as long as he could not find her. This was hardly a grand ball, but somehow, she kept slipping from his sight. Leo tried not to sigh in frustration as another sweep of the ballroom yielded no sight of his heart’s capturer, and he shifted his shoulders uncomfortably in his finery, not exactly less restrictive than his military outfits but different enough to make his tall stature feel too large in his waistcoat and cravat.

Just as his hand instinctively went to loosen the damned noose around his neck, he caught himself. Instead, Leo sighed, making his way out of the ballroom and to an unoccupied drawing room in a less crowded part of the house. Door shut behind him, he tore the cravat from his neck and opened a window, sticking his head out into the open air.

Princess Charlotte

[Princess Charlotte]

-------------------------------------------- This was a small, royal sort of affair -- only those part of the English court were allowed, Prince Friedrich nowhere to be found as he was out of the country. She mostly stood beside her mama and grandmother, peering around the room as they chaperoned her. Leopold was present as well. The two had met in a not-so-dashing manner as she tried to escape the Prince of Orange's meeting with her that one fateful evening. He had cordially led her to a carriage and that had been the end of it.  Nothing untoward happened. Her father seemed to always have them lined up to meet her in an effort to prevent her from marrying Friedrich. It was every movement of hers that was controlled because she was the daughter of the Prince Regent. She could not even reach out to take a glass of lemonade before a servant stepped in with a swift hand gesture from her mother. What was this life she was born into? She could not even roam her own ballroom without being watched. "Mother," She warned gently as she tried to get away, the older woman's hand touching her arm for a moment. "Please, I only require a moment. Nothing will happen to me,  I assure you." Receiving a small nod from Caroline, she moved toward one of the main entrances, wandering down the hallway. She then entered the closest drawing room she could find to delve into loneliness, only to catch a glimpse of Prince Leopold near the window. Heavens -- she should not stay there lest she wishes to damage her reputation.  "Apologies, your highness." She quickly turned around, ready to take her to leave before she felt her dress tug at the corner of a table and rip.

CARLTON HOUSE	Prince Leopold
so exciting

❤

[Prince Leopold]

Leopold took in a deep breath of fresh air from the night outside the window, and just as quickly, it was stolen from his chest. He didn’t need to turn to know who had entered behind him, and he supposed it was because he knew her identity, that all grace left his movement. Almost as soon as she spoke, he attempted to lean back into the room, only to hit his head against the bottom of the pane.

Cursing under his breath, he brought a hand to his throbbing skull and turned to Princess Charlotte.

Just quick enough to catch the red tinge in her cheeks, Leopold wished he’d turned sooner, if at all possible. Before he could acknowledge her aloud, she was turning to go, and as a gentleman — and one she had not consented to marry — he would not attempt to stop her. He was not in the business of ruining the reputations of women, least of all Charlotte’s. No, when she married him, it would be because she chose to do so and for no other reason. Even so, she was making it damned hard to convince her.

As if fate itself was on his side, her skirts caught on a table, ripping the fine fabric audibly. Finally having pulled himself together, he was across the room in an instant, his fingers reaching for the place that was caught. “Let me, princess.” Lowering to his knees, Leo worked carefully to disentangle the fabric from its hook, taking care to ensure it did not rip further. His blue eyes flashed up to her. “Might there be a needle and some thread in here?”

Princess Charlotte

[Princess Charlotte]

-------------------------------------------- "Leopold," She finally addressed him the second he looked at her with those daring blues, snatching the fabric from his hands for a moment. "Did my father put you up to this? How do you know that this is my drawing room?" How had he been on that staircase at the perfect time? Something felt off and she knew of the prince's relationship with her father.  It was just them and so she could speak freely without behind judged by the eyes of the ton. "The dress does not matter," She assured him. "I will simply tell Brimsley or Brianna," Her lady's mad. "That I wish to rest for the rest of the evening." Charlotte did not want to go back out there. It was all too much fuss and she knew damn well why her father had thrown the event on a date when Friedrich would be away from English soil. The Prince of Orange was present, too, despite her former protests of him being far too much of a drunken fool to catch her fancy. What on earth was her father thinking?  It wasn't time for a fight, though she would not back down if one were to erupt once again. "I have seen you eye me again and again at these events," Charlotte continued. "What is your motive?"

CARLTON HOUSE	Prince Leopold
so exciting

❤

[Prince Leopold]

His eyes did not stray from Charlotte’s, even as she snatched her dress away from him. Even after it left his grasp, his hand remained hovering in the air. Oh, she was vexed with him, and man that he was, he could not even bring himself to be upset with the turn of events. Not now that he’d gotten his wish, her brow creased and nose wrinkled slightly as she accused him.

“Motive?” He grinned, rising from the floor. “For the night or for the future? If the former, I only wished to get away for a moment. Orange smells like every bottle in a tavern, and I wanted to get some air somewhere alone.” Leo reached to adjust his cravat before he realized that it still laid across the room, his hand coming to rest on the small revealed patch of bare skin where it once was tied.

“If the latter,” he tilted his head side to side, as if considering, “my motive is you. Where you are concerned, everything matters, even a slight tear.”

Princess Charlotte

[Princess Charlotte]

-------------------------------------------- That grin of his bothered her. So self-righteous. So... dreamy, yet self-righteous at the same time. Nevertheless, he had nothing on Friedrich. The two were in love. It showed in the letters she had exchanged with him and she wished her father had not tracked the royal courier down and forced him to show him the letters. They could not refuse the prince regent, after all.  Orange did smell as if he'd just returned from a tavern, she could not blame him, but this particular room out of all the others? Glancing around momentarily, she rushed to the door and shut it, removing a key from her purse to lock it. They both would not risk her reputation, she knew that for a fact. A slight tear. "A slight tear!?" Charlotte turned around abruptly, frowning. "You wish to see me cry?"

CARLTON HOUSE	Prince Leopold
so exciting

❤

[Prince Leopold]

Leopold saw conflict in her eyes as his grin cemented itself on his visage. He could not help but tease her so, not when it inspired such delicious indignation from the princess, but his victory was short-lived. His smirk faltered — his brows creasing in question — as she broke away from them.

For a moment, he worried she might quit the room altogether. It was what she should do, after all. But then, she confounded Leopold entirely by locking the damned door. That was one way, he supposed, to keep this meeting secret, and the adrenaline her motion inspired kept him from complaining.

Cry? God damn the English language. He’d gone and cocked up the pronunciation of the word, and now, she thought him a villain. Leopold moved abruptly, subconsciously reaching for her gloved hand. “The tear,” he explained. “The rip in your skirt, liebling. I am grateful for it, for these few moments more in your company.”