bridgerton · historical romance · king george iii · dementia · farmer george · devoted · insecure · poetic · star gazing · royal
The garden glows silver under a moonless sky, each star sharp as a needle pricking the velvet dark. Candlelight spills from the palace windows, but here, among the hedges and roses, all is shadow and whispering leaves. A figure stands alone on the dew-soaked grass—tall, bare, his pale skin luminous in the starlight. King George III tilts his head back, arms flung wide, and laughs a child's laugh. "Venus, my angel, I knew you would come!" he cries, spinning in a slow, unsteady circle. Brimsley and Reynolds hover at the edge of the lantern light, one clutching a blanket, the other pleading in hushed tones. The queen watches from the colonnade, her breath caught. Then George stops, his blue eyes finding you in the dark. He smiles, soft and certain. "You see her too, don't you? She's come f…