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The season was halfway through and the princess was expected to at least find her match by the end of it. So was Eloise, her close friend who she'd been acquainted with on so many occasions such as the one that was present at. They usually talked of how dreadful each season was, Lady Whistledown, the men who even dare to try to dance with them, and much more. 

Charlotte supposed that she had it a little easier than her dear sister through friendship. At least she could afford to wait a while more until she decided on who she wished to marry. After all, the likelihood of her inheriting the crown from her father in the future was relatively high, given that she had no other siblings. She would make a difference. Lottie was sure of it and she was sure her grandmama, Queen Charlotte, agreed. 

Stood beside Eloise, she quietly scanned the room around them before offering a remark, "His trousers are far too low," The blonde pointed out at a passerby who seemed around her and Eloise's age. "I mean, really, how do they expect us to communicate with boys?"

The corners of her lips broke into a small smile as he kissed them, melting away the second his  finally touched hers. Her hand crept up his tailcoat, fumbling with the shirt underneath, wondering what hid behind the garments he wore. The differences in rank did not much sense any more now that they were hidden away from the public's eye. It was just them in that room, and she would certainly derive pleasure from the circumstance.

Letting go of his lips for a moment, she chuckled softly as she pulled him closer toward where the bed was. Did they have to use it? Not necessarily. "Then you are safe under my command," Charlotte suggested, picking up a random fan off one of the tables and fanning herself with it in a beguiling manner. "Tell me," Charlotte grinned. "Have I captured your attentions so far? Forget my title tonight," Lottie pulled him closer to her again, undoing his shirt with her free hand. "Forget yours. Would you have me?"

The walls did not have ears -- she was sure of it somewhat). "You have been on my mind all evening, and I am confident that the tides of fate brought us together," The princess paused. "In my favour, at least."

Charlotte understood duty above all. After all, she was destined to become Queen of England one day, being second in line for the throne after her father. Her eyes settled on him for a moment, wondering what his thoughts were about her. Did he love her? She doubted that, considering she was born a girl, and he'd originally wished for a boy. He'd made that quite clear to her, especially when he was quick to send word to the court of the Netherlands after she'd turned eighteen. 

Originally, she considered Friedrich too... familiar for her. Though she knew her grandmama probably wished for the union between them, the man was practically related to her. Something about him, however, had caught the princess' attention. Was it his comeliness? His overt goodness? The fact that she maybe sympathised with him a bit after the Bridgerton debacle? He was not your usual male -- that much was for sure. 

"Ever so pleasing to hear," Given the circumstances of last season. Charlotte took another small bite, feeling slightly full already. "Du bist zu gütig, Friedrich, und das weißt du." ¹ She addressed him softly so that only he could hear, referring to the Bridgerton girl.

"You are too kind, Friedrich, and you know that." ₁

If she weren't intoxicated, she would have avoided this type of situation entirely. He was the brother of a Viscount and she, a princess -- a lady of blue blood, placed on the earth to someday become Queen of the United Kingdom. Thinking of it scared her to bits. Her grandfather had gone mad simply by managing the task for nearly fifty years and her father... well, he wasn't the kindest man and so, she feared his ideas as King Regent to the throne. 

That was why her drunken state and the games that they played were indeed a risk. The blame, of course, would be placed on her as the hostess, but what would life be if not amusing? Princess Charlotte had the means to host such lavish parties and considering barely anyone objected, minus her father on occasion in an effort to ensure that she was maintaining her purity and sense. Little did he knew that his daughter had already lost her precious virginity a month after her sixteenth birthday to an incredibly close friend of hers.

She had acknowledged that she desired Prince Friedrich, and if she could not have him, then she would not marry, nor would she was a virgin Queen of England like Elizabeth the First. 

Quickly disposing of such thoughts, she focused on the male before her, mirroring his smile. "Welcome aboard the royal ship," Charlotte announced, face only inches away from his. "Now you can either undress me or jump into the icy waters below and meet the dark abyss." Dramatic? Slightly, yet it amused her, and hoped it amused the nobleman, too.

She was privy to the conversation happening in the dining room. Simply speaking, she stood by a window near the entrance of the room, fanning herself while pretending to gaze out into Buckingham's gardens. Charlotte was at her grandparent's residence for the week, having been told by her father to go there as there would be a certain prince present, and she knew exactly who he was referring to. Little Lottie was not opposed to the stay at her grandparent's, as she was entirely fond of them, but she was opposed to her father's choice in suitors.

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard uproar and yelling coming from her grandpapa and she was quick to glance at the door, watching her grandmother beeline down the hall with her servants treading behind her. It was not an uncommon occurrence, and that was exactly why Lottie was ready to leap if anything were to happen to her grandmother and Queen. Watching them disappear from her sight, the princess followed their trail, knowing exactly where they would end up. She'd heard her command them to leave, and they obeyed, but Charlotte stayed behind, staring at the shut door to her quarters.

Lottie raised a gloved hand to stop one of the footmen for opening the door for her, doing it herself in a gentle manner as to not startle the older lady she admired so much. She was quick to find the destroyed mirror on her vanity. Fearing that the Queen had caused harm to herself, Charlotte rushed to her side, "Grandmama..." She lifted her arm, knelt by her side, and began checking her hand for any blood.

After a lovely evening spent out in the gardens Carlton House occupied by the Princess of Wales as well as her parents (who were asleep, thankfully), a game of tag was suggested by one of the party goers. If she were sober, she'd have excused herself immediately, fearing that one of her family members would awaken and find her running about.

Her father, George IV, was the last person she wanted to see, desiring less of his temper that evening, finding more comfort in the presence of her estranged grandfather, George III, and divine grandmother, Charlotte.

Everyone began running into the estate, and Little Lottie followed them, gathering the hems of her dress as she ran inside and up the stairs to where all the quarters were. Laughing, she suddenly found herself hiding behind one of the guest room doors. The blonde was well aware of how this game ended. Someone would get caught and well... certain activities happened. Was it naughty? Incredibly, yet her family did not need to know.

There was one individual she had her sights on for quite a long time: Benedict Bridgerton. Peeking through the door, she hoped she'd catch sight of him. To her luck, he was nearing her threshold. Smirking, the princess suddenly grabbed him and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind her.