It has been a month since the autumn ball. The Oliviers offered you a place to stay in their mansion. Of course, having no other choice, you gladly accepted the offer, telling them that you weren't really staying that long. You and George kept sending each other letters. Others? Ha, too personal. But in the end of November, the letters stopped arriving. This made you very concerned and lonely. What could've happened to him?

You grabbed the recent letters dropped on the floor by the mailman. You observed each one of them, hoping for a letter from the castle. Suddenly, one single phrase caught your attention. You excitedly opened the letter and read the message written inside.

"My dearest, (Y/n),

I am inviting you to the castle early for lunch. I am deeply sorry that I stopped sending you letters. I had important matters to attend to in Edinburgh but I am glad to be finally back. I believe we have a lot to catch up on. I do hope you come.

Yours truly, George"

Wait, 'My dearest, (Y/n)?' Your face immediately reddened and your cheeks began to feel warm. 'My dearest' was only used to address a loved one, a partner rather. Maybe it was just made a mistake? Though, you couldn't stop thinking that he intended the phrase.

You didn't notice that you've been smiling the whole time you were reading that letter. You two really had a lot to catch up on. You can't wait to hear about his "important matters" in Edinburgh. He always had a habit of talking about his experiences on being king and such.

Despite the well and happy life that you've been living in this time, you can't help but think about your uncle and his daughter. Are they missing you? Are they finding a way to get you back? You sighed. If only there was a way to reach them..

Hold that thought. There may be a way since you are at the past. If you can only write a letter and hide it where your uncle's house is, they should be get the message in 2017. Where did you land? The park, beside that tree, that's the basement, that's where you should hide the letter.

"(Y/n)?" you hear someone ask, shattering your thoughts. Well, the letter can wait a bit longer. You look over to see Corrianne with a worried look on her facial features. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, why?" you asked her confused.

She smiled and giggled as she took George's letter from you. She read the letter out loud and squealed. "(Y/n)! I can't believe it!" she exclaimed. "His majesty, the king is asking you for lunch?! And oh bloody hell, he used 'My dearest!' So, that's why you were smiling like an idiot earlier.." she said.

You were about to say something when she immediately grabbed your coats and seized your arm, taking you outside into the snow-covered streets of Berkshire. It was the middle of December and you were freezing. "Corrianne, where are we going?!" you asked her as she kept running and dragging you behind. Finally, you both made it to a stop at the tailor.

"You're having lunch with His Majesty, the king," she chided. "You need something elaborate to impress him. Like they say 'dress to impress' Now, let's go,"

She walked into the parlor, dragging you in with her. The warm sudden change of temperature welcomed you. The seamstress was happy to see your faces again.

"Bonjour madame," she greeted with her thick french accent.

"Bonjour," you greeted back. "Excusez-moi, madame, Nous n'avons jamais pris votre nom, puis-je demander ce que c'est?" you asked. You really wanted to know her name. She seemed like a nice lady. (Translation: Excuse me, madame. We never caught your name, may I ask what it is?)

The seamstress giggled lightly and smiled. "It's Odelette, Odelette Chevallier. It is nice to meet you." Her name was beautiful, no doubt from that but the fact that she answered in english was shocking. Odelette saw your reaction and laughed. "I've been studying english since we met. I figured that it is easier to talk to customers this way," she said. Her french accent never seemed to leave her when she's talking but she is a great improvement.

"That's a very beautiful name," Corrianne complimented. You smiled and nodded in agreement. A hint of pink spread across her face. "I am Corrianne Olivier. This is my friend, (Y/n) (L/n) and she is looking for a dress for a.. very special occasion."

"Oh?" the seamstress said with curiosity. "And what occasion may that be?" she asked, leaning her ear in.

Corrianne smiled innocently. "She is having lunch later with His Majesty, the king,"

Odelette's eyes widened as she gasped. She quickly rushes to the back in excitement and started rummaging through the dresses. She picked one and walked back to the two of you with haste. "This is the perfect dress for such a special occasion. It's the best that I have made so far," she said while holding out a gold, stunning, exquisite dress. You both look at it with awe. "Do you.. like it?" Odelette asked. Unfortunately, Corrianne seemed to lose the ability to speak.

"I love it!" you exclaimed with overwhelming happiness. "But it looks extravagant," you said with a little bit of sadness in your voice.

"Oh, it's free. Don't worry about it," Odolette laughed out. The news shocked you. An elaborate gown for free?!

"What?! It's free?!" Corrianne exclaimed with excitement in her voice. "You're kidding, right?"

"No," the seamstress giggled. "I just want you to have this, (Y/n) since you are having lunch with His Majesty, the king."

"Th-thank you, Odelette! You don't know how much this means to me!"

"It's nothing, really. Now go. Don't keep him waiting. Have fun!"

The both of you head back to the mansion to see Xalvador reading a letter. It was a different one from yours.

"Hey Xal," Corrianne called, gaining the attention of her brother. "What's that?"

"Oh, you're back. This is just a letter from the military," he said. "Sir Eyre Coote captured Pondicherry from the French."

Corrianne sighed. She never had interests for militaries, government and such subjects. She rolled her eyes and hastily drags you upstairs.

After getting ready, Corrianne insisted to let you borrow the carriage. You soon arrived at the palace and met with the person you longed to see after three months.

"Good Afternoon, (Y/n). You look stunning as always. I was afraid you wouldn't come," George started. "It was nice of you to though."

"How could I not come when you haven't written me a single letter? We do have a lot to catch up on, don't we?"

George smiled in approval. He pulls the chair for you to sit in like a gentleman. You take your seat as he took his. A formal table setting was set up neatly before you.

"So," George tried to start a conversation. "How are you doing here in Windsor?"

"It's been good. How 'bout you? I'd love to hear about your experiences in Edinburgh," you replied with a smile.

"Well, I haven't really explored much. I only came there to visit 'Braidwood's Academy for the Deaf and Dumb.' But I did get to see 'Arthur's Seat,'" he explained while you two were eating. "I was actually wondering why they named it 'Arthur.' There's got to be a reason, right?"

"Well, according to medieval histories, he led the defense of Britain to Saxon invaders in the late 5th and early 6th centuries,"

"That's interesting.. quite the smart one, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yeah.. I get that a lot," you answered.

He chuckled. "Have you ever thought of being courted?" he asked so sudden. The conversation seemed to take a quick Left-turn. Why would he ask this? Maybe it's just curiosity?

"Well, no, not really,"

He nodded in understanding. "(Y/n), remember when you asked me about this person that I gained a liking for?" he asked, grinning.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, it's you."

You lost your voice, and froze. Wait, really?! It was- No, it can't be- But he said it himself, didn't he? You clutched your chest tightly, looking away from George. I-I've fallen for him too. This is a taboo! It will change history, and I know better! "I'm so sorry," you told him. You didn't really know what you were apologizing for, but George seemed to understand.

His smile fell for a split second, but he immediately put a fake one on. "A-ah, that's fine, (Y/n)," he said, though you could still see his awkwardness and sadness slipping out. It was obvious from his body language.

"George.." you started.

"No! It's okay, really," he argued.

"George, I'm really sorry but we just.. can't be."

"But, why?" he asked, holding your hands with his over the table. "Why can it not be? At least tell me, (Y/n)."

"I'm sorry.." was all you said.

"Is there not a reason-?"

"There is, but you wouldn't be able to understand. I'm sorry."

"Try me, (Y/n)! Don't leave me hanging!"

You hastily stood up. "I'm sorry , I can't take this anymore." You were about to leave when he stood up from his seat and grabs your arm. You unconsciously turned around, only to be greeted by soft lips. Your eyes widened due to the sudden action.

He kept a tight grip on your arms, trying to keep you there in that position, and if possible, in that time, so that you'd never leave again, and you will both just be stuck in that moment. He felt you soften up and give in to the kiss, pressing your lips against his.

Taboo, it is.. but like you said, it's an inevitable mistake.

====[Author's Note]====

Well, I didn't really payed attention to dates but the autumn ball was held in October or something. September to November is Autumn for Britain, I think. December to February is Winter. The date in this chapter is some where in December.

That, my friend, is King George III's signature.