The whole ride to the castle was completely silent, and you wanted it to stay that way. You put on a blank facade as you stared at the window, but inside your heart was slowly tearing itself apart. An involuntary tear found its way out of your lower eyelid and streamed across your cheek.

"Darling, don't cry," George cooed from your side. He tried his best to make you utter at least one word, but nothing came out ever since you went with him.

You closed your eyes for a few seconds to relax yourself and control your temper. George gently took your hand, but you immediately flinched the moment your skin came in touch with his.

"Please, don't," you said in a somewhat cold voice, not even bothering to look away from the window.

He sighed. There was no way he could talk to you after killing your best friend like that. He gave up on it and decided that it was best to give you some time to cool off. It was the least he could do.

You came into a sudden halt before the coachman opened the door. George was the first to leave. He immediately started ordering the slaves around. You took the footman's hand, muttering a thanks as you descended from the carriage. You gazed at the stone castle that stood before you, something that you were going to have to get used to.

George offered you his arm. You hesitantly locked your arms with his, and entered the castle. The two of you entered the Rubens room, and turned left, going to the Throne room, where many servants awaited. They all knelt to the ground in unison.

"Stand up, all of you," George said, standing in front of them with his back facing the throne. "Everyone, this is (Y/n) (L/n). I expect all of you to treat her with great care and respect. Failure to do so will be considered treason, and thus, will be punishable by death."

All of the workers started to feel uncomfortable, fear evident in their eyes.

The young king already had a sick smile on his face. He was truly satisfied with the servants' reactions. "Another note that I'd like to leave is that nobody touches (Y/n), unless you want to have your whole family burning on a stake right in front of your eyes, and your head rolling off the rough, stone path," he taunted with a frightening tone.

By then, the servants were already shaking as they nodded, already getting the point.

"Dismissed," was all George said before they all started rushing out of the room to continue their work. However, two women stayed in the room. He went over to them, with you by his side.

"Your Majesty, Miss (L/n)," the first one greeted with a nod, "this is Sarah Huntington, our best maid yet."

George nodded, and turned his attention to you. "(Y/n), Sarah will be your personal maid from now on," he informed you before looking at the maid. "Please escort her to the Queen's closet, and get her a better outfit."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Sarah answered before heading towards the door. "This way, Miss (L/n)."

You followed her through a series of rooms, until you got to the closet. There were a plethora of dresses to choose from. But not just any dresses, no, of course not. They all belonged to every generation of the royal family of Great Britain, some of them decorated with luxurious, ermine fur.

"Here we are, Miss (L/n)," Sarah said, leading you to the wide array of clothes. "You may choose any dress you want."

You scanned the closet for a simple dress.

You weren't really into fancy or exquisite gowns. They were just for show - protecting a family's reputation by showing off wealth and proving that they're worthy of respect. However, you had no family, and you did not feel the need to dress up an elaborate gown just to impress and reach society's standards. You've had enough of that. Almost everyone thinks you have to be a perfect figure to everyone's eyes, but no, it was okay to be different. You knew that, and so did Corrianne.

After 2 minutes of searching, you deemed it impossible to find a simple gown inside of the armoire. Instead, you took out the one with the least amount of accessories, and layers.

You showed it to your maid with a sheepish smile. "What do you think?"

"It's great.. if you want to look like a beggar from the streets," she answered. She walked up to you and lifted up the bottom part of the dress. "I'm sorry, but it's true. The ends are tattered and torn to shreds. This dress has definitely seen better days. You are free to choose another one."

You sighed. You took out another simple one which looked a lot more decent. "This one?"

"It looks fine. Let's see if it fits you."

You two went behind the changing screen, as Sarah helped you change into the dress, with of course, a corset. The sleeves hung loosely on your arms, and the midsection of the dress wasn't exactly hugging your waist.

"You look like a ghost," Sarah commented before pulling on the midriff. She kept the extra cloth on your back and eyed your waist. "This certainly won't do."

You shook your head. "I can just pick another dress."

"No, you can't really wear those with ermine fur, as you are not exactly royalty yet. Besides, I am quite sure that you would not like the amount of accessories on them," she explained, letting go of the clothing folds. "We need a new dress."

She looked at the pendulum clock on the wall. "There are three more hours before dinner. We still have time," she told you before helping you get out of the dress. "Please excuse me for a moment, Miss, I will just ask for His Majesty, the king's permission to go outside." With that, she left.

You looked around the room with crestfallen eyes. You sat on a chair beside the mirror. Its velvet cushions were soft and comfortable. The structure itself was made of gold, as were the linings on the walls. The vintage wallpapers were achromatic white, giving the room a comforting atmosphere. However, it was all sugar-coated to cover the whole ordeal of being here.

Not long after, a knock and the creaking of the door broke your thoughts. Sarah came in with a stressed facade. She saw your expecting look and sighed. "I am terribly sorry, Miss (L/n); but His Majesty, the king did not allow us to leave the castle's premises. Rather, the seamstress will be sent to the castle with a wide array of dresses to choose from."

You nodded as you hung your head low. Your freedom was taken from you in just a snap. You weren't even allowed to leave the castle. You were stuck in this wretched place with the man who mercilessly killed your best friend and took you away from the people you actually considered your "third family."

Tears began to fall involuntarily as you looked out the window. You put your hand over your head. The emotions you tried bottling up became uncontrollable and poured out at that very second. After all, they can't stay in there for too long.

"Miss (L/n), would you prefer to be left alone until the seamstress arrives?" Sarah asked.

You wanted to give her a reply, or at least a nod, but you were lost in your own thoughts. You were afraid your voice would crack if you tried to speak.

"I will give you some time alone, miss, I shall see you again later. Please call me when you are ready to meet the seamstress. Please excuse me."

You sobbed louder when you heard the door click behind you. You regretted every single choice you made that brought you to this point in your life. Corrianne was like a sister to you, and having her disappear in just a snap broke your heart into a million pieces.

You lost your family.

Now, you're best friend.

Who's next?

-knock-knock-

You immediately wiped your cheeks for any tear stains and tested your voice, making it sound like it wasn't broken - unlike your heart. You stood up. "Come in," you said softly.

Your gaze suddenly turned cold when you saw who it was.

George stood in the doorway, without his peruke on. He had silky, platinum blonde hair that matched his powder blue eyes - as blue as the Weymouth sea. He didn't have his ermine coat on, leaving him with just his velvet red coat. He looked despondent. It was clear through his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" you muttered, turning your back to him and looking out the window. "You have no business here. Go away."

You heard him walk towards you.

You clutched your chest where your heart was supposed to be as you bit your lip. "Don't take another step."

"(Y/n), please," he implored with a broken, shaky voice.

You couldn't help but feel sympathetic. No, no, no, you can't. You covered your face with a hand. "What else could you possibly want from me?" you asked. You received no answer.

You quickly turned around and looked at him straight in the eye. "Tell me!"

"I just wanted to talk to you," he answered, looking down at the red carpeted floor.

"You wanted to talk to me?" you snickered. "Then talk!"

You stomped towards him. "W-Why are you doing this? Why!" you asked, pushing him back. You pushed him back and hit his chest with all your might. Tears streamed out of your eyes as you lashed out on him. "Why! Why did you kill Corrianne? Why are you keeping me here? Why did it have to be me?" you shouted at him in between punches.

George did nothing but stare at you with love and solicitude. He accepted every punch you throw and every word you shout. He hated seeing you like this - vulnerable, desperate, and hopeless. Watching you in your state hurt him more than your hits.

Finally, after a long moment of shouting, sobbing and pounding on his chest, you grew tired. You covered your face with your hands, panting. "Why.." you whispered almost inaudibly as you sobbed.

He wrapped his arms around your shaking form and pulled you close to his chest. "(Y/n).."

You hit him weakly. "I hate you."

"Look," George started, running his fingers through your hair, "I am truly ashamed for what I had done. I will not try to cover up or deny what happened, for I take full responsibility of my actions."

He pulled back a few inches. "(Y/n), love, please look at me."

You shook your head.

"Please.."

The desperate tone in his voice reached your ears. You slowly lifted your head up, showing him your red, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. You saw his contrite face and felt sorry for him.

He cupped your cheeks, wiping your tears with his thumbs. He took a deep breath before continuing, "I know I made a mistake. I'm not perfect. But when I say sorry, I mean it.. with all my heart."

New tears started to form as your broken heart started to flutter because of his words. You tried to avoid eye contact and looked down at the floor instead, starting to sob once more.

He wiped your tears again. "Shh. There's no reason for you to cry, (Y/n). Look at me," he said in a soft, gentle voice.

You tried to quiet down your sobs as you turned your head at his direction.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me. I just wanted you to know how sorry I am for what happened. It's very important to me that you are aware of that."

You nodded.

He brought you to his chest again and embraced you warmly.

You were hesitant at first, but you acquiesced.

He pulled away with a sad smile on his face. "Your seamstress must be here now," he sighed. "I shall see you later at dinner." He took your hand and kissed your knuckles before leaving.

Sarah came in a while later with another woman and a man, who was carrying a large pile of dresses. "Good day, Miss (L/n). May I introduce the seamstress, Miss Delphi Fletcher, and her apprentice, Henry Nicholls."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss (L/n)," Delphi said holding her hand out to you.

You shook her hand with a smile. "Likewise. I'm sorry you had to see me in this state."

"It's no problem, Miss, we all have those times," the seamstress smiled. "Anyways, how would you like your dress to be? Detailed? Silky? Frilly? Full of embellishments?"

"I think Miss (L/n) is capable of talking for herself. Thank you, Delphi," your maid quickly intervened.

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry. How would you like your dress, Miss?"

You chuckled. "I'm fine with anything, really. Though, I prefer to keep it simple with only a few accessories and embellishments."

Your words took Delphi by surprise. "Um.. Delphi..?"

"Oh! I, uh.. um, sorry. I'm not really used to having clients who appreciate the simplicity of things. Most of my customers want fancy, exquisite dresses," she laughed. "Henry, please give me that white, floral stomacher and blue matching dress."

The apprentice handed her the items as he turned around.

You were escorted behind the changing room by the two ladies as they started working on your dress. Delphi tightened your corset, and helped you change into the blue dress which had an open spot on the front, showing your corset. She quickly covered it with the stomacher and pinned it into place. It was white with a floral polychrome silk decoration.

"There you go," Delphi said as she lead you to the mirror.

Henry walked over towards the three of you and looked at the dress. "Ma'am, why don't you use a red dress instead?" he asked.

"The State Dining room's carpet is red. We need a little bit of contrast."

"Well, ma'am, why don't you try this other stomacher with gold-work?" The apprentice handed the piece of cloth to Delphi and she shrugged.

"Alright then."

Your polychrome silk stomacher was replaced with a gold-work one. Surprisingly, it suited the Egyptian blue tint of the dress. It matched with the cloth's cold lace and white frills.

Delphi eyed the dress and smiled. "That should do it. It looks nice on you," she said. "Henry, great work."

Henry nodded. He started piling up the dresses.

"Well," Delphi started, helping Henry with the items, "we better get going. It was such a pleasure being here. We are very much obliged to be the ones to help you dress for such an occasion."

"Thank you for your service, Delphi and Henry. It was absolutely wonderful to have you both here," you said as they headed for the door.

"Goodbye, Miss (L/n)," the woman said before leaving with her apprentice.

Sarah clapped her hands and went to the drawers. "Well then, Miss (L/n), please take a seat for the shoes."

You did as you were told as the maid returned with cotton knit stockings and at least 3 pairs of heels. You replaced your shoes and previous white stockings with the new ones. The stockings were a pale turquoise color, going up to your mid-thighs. You tried on the heels until you stopped at the golden one. It was the right size and matched the whole outfit.

A while later, it was time for the cosmetics. You tried your best to convince them to lessen the amount they'd normally put on your face, since make-up in the 18th century was poisonous.. White, lead-based foundation was used as a base color, giving you a pale complexion. A large swathe of rogue covered your cheeks. A small beauty patch, shaped like a heart upon your own request, was placed beside your right eye to contrast your artificially whitened skin. A carnation pink tint was used on your lips.

Now, for the hair. The maids added pomatum in your hair, which was made of animal fat, and fragrant herbs and oils. This was a constant routine that women in the 18th century followed. After that, your face was covered with a cone-shaped mask, while your body was covered with a white cloth. They started to apply a pastel yellow powder on your hair. Taking off the mask, they brushed your hair to distribute the oil and powder evenly. They curled your hair on the sides and the rest were arranged in an up-do.

"Oh, miss! You look absolutely gorgeous!" one of the maids exclaimed. "His majesty, the king would surely head over heels for you!"

Another maid rolled her eyes playfully. "I think he already did," she giggled. "You're really lucky, miss."

"Come on, all of you. It's almost time for dinner," Sarah said as the maids started to leave one by one. "Now, miss, the butler should be here any minute now to lead you to the State dining room."

She was right. Not long after, a knock was heard behind the door. You opened the door and was greeted by a man in his late 30s.

"Good Evening, miss. I am Nicolas, the butler of this castle. Please follow me to the dining room," he said, lending you a hand to take.

The two of you went through a series of rooms and hallways until you stopped in front of double, dark oak doors with golden knobs.

"His Majesty, the king awaits you inside, miss," Nicolas said before opening the door to the room.

"I hope you have a splendid evening."

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

Psycho: I apologize for the late update. There's just some family stuff that I had to go through. Anyways, here's the new update!

School starts on June for me, where you'll be having your vacation. I'll try my best to update, but it might take me 2-3 months, and longer for November, and January-March because 3rd quarter is the busiest, and clearance weeks are a hassle. I'm not sure of it yet, since our school rector promised less projects and performance tasks next school year.

If you guys didn't realize, Sarah is 's O.C. I hope I did a decent job. I'm so sorry if I didn't. >.

Let's have the questions! (Some are from last chapter because I forgot to tell you all lol)

For this one, I used the modern layout of Windsor castle. I'm sorry. There weren't any information about the castle's layout in the 18th century. However, I will remove buildings that were built after King George III's reign. Though, I highly doubt it, since most of the action's going to be in the State Apartments anyway. I used many reference images for the layout but here are a few:

Quick note, some of the rooms have 2 different names. (e.g. The Rubens Room and The King's Drawing Room are the same.)

Slaves aren't really granted the rights to learn how to read or write, because of the Negro Act of 1740. This act prohibited slaves from gathering without white supervisors and learning how to read or write. However, some owners were kind enough to teach their slaves. So let's just say he learned from a previous owner.

wig; specifically one of a type popular from the 17th to the early 19th century" -merriam-webster.com