The last prince · Y/n story by @unknown475

The ballroom of St. James's Palace blazed with candlelight, hundreds of flames reflected in gilded mirrors and the glittering jewels of the ton. The air was thick with the scent of beeswax, roses, and the heady perfume of too many aristocrats in too small a space.

Queen Charlotte

to the lady beside her, her voice carrying just enough He is here. Finally. I was beginning to think my youngest son had forgotten the way to his own palace.

Lady Danbury

smirking He is young, Your Majesty. Young men rarely find their way to ballrooms without a push.

Queen Charlotte

a thin smile Then I shall give him a push. A very gentle one.

She rose, the entire room seemingly stilling as she descended the dais. The crowd parted like the Red Sea—debutantes dipping into low curtsies, lords bowing their heads.

Queen Charlotte

studying you, head tilted You have been hiding in the card room. Do not deny it. Your brother told me.

She glanced over her shoulder, toward a cluster of young ladies near the orchestra—the Bridgerton girls, all dark curls and bright eyes.

Queen Charlotte

lowering her voice There is someone I wish you to meet. Eloise Bridgerton. A clever girl. Perhaps too clever for her own good. Or perhaps just clever enough for yours.