How They First Saw You

In Between

pairing | anthony bridgerton x reader x simon bassett

fandom | bridgerton

synopsis | a night of raucous fun you are bound to never forget.

warnings | smut smut smut smut

a/n | some shameless self indulgence. no regrets.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

your thighs were beginning to burn.

you don't know how many orgasms they'd pulled from you already. everything sounds like a dull hum, or as if you were drowing in deep, deep water. you can't tell if it was simon or anthony knelt in between your legs at the moment. their years of visiting brothels and having their way with women finally paying off as they take you apart inch by inch, one devastating orgasm after devastating orgasm.

there’s a gentle palm with the calluses of a fighter's stroking down the side of your ribs. comforting kisses are pressed your thighs, as simon murmurs husky praises about how good you are for him and how pretty you look for them.

you bite back the tears forming on your waterline as his tongue takes on a new path, moving up towards the one place you needed him the most, before stopping, resting his head on the soft skin of your thigh, beard scratching the sensitive skin of your thigh, making you whimper. your legs threatened to shut, to protect themselves from the onslaught of pleasure both men had brought to you.

turning your head back, you watched as anthony relaxed on a chair, swirling a glass of whisky in his hands as he watched his friend go down on the woman he loved. his eyes were blown dark, and his signature scowl was deep set, trying his hardest to ignore the straining of his cock against the material of his dress pants. he had rid himself of his shirt earlier, although now you cannot recollect when he had exposed his glorious body to you.

"such a pretty girl for me" simon's deep voice rumbled above you, "such a pretty little cunt, so sweet and delicious for me, aren't you?" he asked, smiling when you whimpered in response.

simon's lips come to the rise of your mound, pressing gentle kisses meant to soothe, but the sandpaper brush of his stubble makes everything inside you that more aroused, your nerves raw and burning.

“you taste so fucking good,” he murmurs, and the brush of his breath is searing against your skin. the low rumbling of his voice, so characteristic of him, is dripping in hunger and arousal, and it sends jitters up and down your spine until it's difficult to breathe. its an important counterpart to his skilled mouth and fingers on you, the heat spreading under your skin and threatening to explode like a supernova.

“wannt you to come all over my mouth, yeah?” he says, with his trademark grin, before he dives back in, tongue lapping at your slick folds.

you can't help the high pitched squeak that leaves your lips, back arching and throwing your head back in the pure agony of the pleasure. you catch sight of anthony again, now trying to relieve himself against his hand. the sight of him rubbing himself sends you ricocheting towards your high and before you can stop a desperate moan is leaving your raw lips.

"anthony! please my lord, allow me to touch you, i need to touch you, please" you beg, wanting to feel the touch of your man. it was all but public knowledge that you were his, and it had shocked you to no end when he suggested the idea of a threesome.

your cry was the final straw. raising the glass to his lips again, he poured the rest of the golden brown liquid into his mouth, slamming it down with a harsh thud that sent goosebumps crawling on your skin.

he approached you, as a tiger does it's prey, and the combined effect of simon's magical tongue and anthony's lust fill gaze nearly brings you over the edge for the god knows how many times that evening.

he reaches down, and for a second you think he is going to caress your cheek as he has done countless times. you were wrong. deft fingers grab your face, thumb and pointer digging into your cheeks, forcing your mouth open for him, as you whimper.

leaning down, his hot breath fans over your face making you feel hot. with his eyes trained on you, he pours the whiskey in his mouth into your waiting one, watching as the golden liquid overflows from your pink lips, and you cough around the harsh taste.

the taste of the bitter liquid mixed with the familiar taste of anthony makes you feel euphoric and you swallow fast, desperate to please anthony. he watched with a satisfied smirk, thumbing the stray drops of drool and whiskey on your chin and brings it to his own mouth.

simon watches the both of you, a frown curling his forehead. it's his turn to have his way with you. anthony can have you whenever he wants wherever he wants but this? it's his turn to show you how stunning you are. he growls, and since he's had his mouth on you, you let out a high pitched gasp, the sudden vibrations making you see stars. you grab onto anthony's arm to steady yourself, ground yourself as the pressure in your tummy builds, threatening to burst at any second.

"you feel good, don't you my darling?" anthony asks, tracing your jaw with his rings, the cold metal making you shiver. "anthony, please!" you cry again, the gasp turning into a scream when a hand suddenly strikes your sensitive cunt.

looking down, you see a frustrated simon glaring daggers into you, mouth off of where you needed him. the orgasm fades away, ebbing into despair and you whine out his name.

"oh, so now you say my name, hmm? no more anthony? no more "please my lord?" thays because he'll never make you feel this good. never" he growls.

that does it. the viscount snaps. with an almost primal snarl, he is pushing the duke away, sinking down onto his own knees in front of you. "you could only wish, hastings. i will have you squirming on my tongue my love. i will have you screaming my name until your lips know no other"

your chest heaves in anticipation. never ever ever had you thought you'd be in between two jealous men as good as simon and anthony. it didn't help that the pleasure you had been feeling was loosening your grip on reality. your oxytocin drunk brain was failing to fathom what time it was, what day it was, what era it was. all you knew was pleasure.

with a ravenous look at your heaving form, anthony lowered his mouth to your throbbing center and licked a bold stripe up your clit, the sensitive bud jolts in shock and you scream in pleasure, dully aware of the dark figure looking above you, settling down on their knees as well, mouthing hot open mouthed kisses onto the bare skin of your neck and your sternum. you're left gasping from the pleasure coming in all directions, tugging anthony's hair harshly when Simon's warm tongue wraps around your nipple making you jolt.

the ever composed lord bridgerton moans against your cunt when you tug his hair, hands holding down your hips as he watches you squirm as simon showers your breasts with dark hickies. possessiveness kicks in and he growls against you, teeth softly rolling your clit in between them.

you shatter.

you come, cunt clenching down, spasming around his tongue where he has you stretched open. everything else disappears for a moment, your body weightless with pure unadulterated bliss. you can’t even hear your heartbeat anymore, the ringing in your ears and the high pitched buzz drowning out everything else. maybe your body has stopped working completely. you're too far gone to tell.

"so stunning" simon murmurs. his jaw had dropped when your mouth had fallen open in a o shape, watching as your back arched and your hair tumbled down your back, cheeks flushed and bare chest heaving against his mouth. fuck those paintings, you were the most beautiful picture he had ever seen.

you can’t help but laugh a breathy laugh, not sure what he’s on about because you’re sure you look anything but stunning. your hair is clinging to your temple, sticky and damp. your face is flushed and sweaty, eyes watery and nose red. your vision is blurred, and for a moment Simon's defined muscles are hazy and anthony's hair is a blur, but then it clears and they're looking at you like youre the sun, the moon and the stars.

simon doesn't give you a chance to recover. he pushes anthony away, and he obliges, settling into simon's spot. a wet thumb gently presses down on your clit again. for all his sweet cooing and gentle touch and flattery, he is merciless in his pursuit to make you come like it's the only thing that matters in the world.

soon youre gushing around his mouth as well, and somewhere along the way your hand has ended up wrapped around anthony's cock, where your fingers don't quite meet, a thought that makes you moan silently.

"you alright, darling? do you want me to fuck you now?” he asks, brushing back a sticky strand of hair from your face. the look in his eyes is as gentle as ever he checks in on you to make sure you’re okay. makes you feel precious and cared for, and you feel your heart flutter again. you would always be his, atleast a small part of you would.

you nod and he looks at simon, he hums in approval, and stands up to go stand by your head. anthony shifts so he is in between your legs again, watching the fluttering of your cunt as you clench around nothing. your eyes are trained on his hips and he feels a surge of pride. as a viscount, he is very proud of his cock (as he should be) and watching your eyes become as large as saucers has his poor cock straining again as it has been all evening, to his discomfort. not anymore.

the first thrust is deep and claiming,and you cry out as the perfect stretch of him has white sparks burning behind your eyelids. you’re so worked up, everything makes a little bit less sense; mind almost completely numb. you can barely think straight and you think to yourself, this is probably what it feels like to be cockdumb. 

"so fucking perfect,” he murmurs into your ear, rasped and breathless as he nips on your ear. "'feel so good wrapped around my cock. sk wet and warm. fuck, you're so tight right now. absolutely squeezing the shit out of my cock right now, aren't you beloved?" his words have you moaning, feeling loved and tortured at the same time. how could he be so sweet and rough at the same time?

he stays there, buried inside you to the hilt, giving you time to adjust to his sheer size. you can feel his eagerness to move inside you, feeling the way his cock twitches excitedly inside of you. you can tell he’s going deral because he's not allowed to just fuck you like there's no tomorrow, watching the way he grips the bedsheets tightly with his fingers until they go white. it sends heat and pleasure into the pit of your stomach and you are sure you are going to burn. it's far too good, far too much, brimming on the edge of being overwhelming. 

there’s no warning as he pulls out, leaving his pulsing tip in, and then he thrusts all the way back inside, in one long and slick stroke back inside you, deep and rough. it slams into a spot in you that has you screaming, something absolutely fucking delicious and it steals away your breath and makes you cry out. 

you can't fathom a coherent thought, the rush of pleasure that comes with every thrust coating your brain it sticky sweet serotonin. you can’t even stutter out the "anthony" that’s right on the tip of your tongue. all that comes out is a pitiful sob. 

“such a needy whore, isn't she simon?" he continues mercilessly, ”always wanting more. how about—" he stops, looking up to meet the duke and they share a look. before you can figure out what exactly is happening, simon stand proud above you cock resting in his hand as he guided himself to your mouth. "open" is all he says and your mouth is falling open. the heavy tip rests against your tongue, salty sweet pre cum oozing out, making you crave more. hands come to rest on the inside of your thighs, lifting you off the mattress until your legs are hooked over a pair of sturdy shoulders, and a delicious weight takes control of your body, nearly folding you nearly in half. "how about this, hmm?" he smirks meant, and you gag when Simon pushes in suddenly. you choke around the thick girth but simon is merciless and he yanks your head back, watching you loll about like a helpless doll.

his voice is pure savage glee, a man that gets whatever he wants. your fingers twist into the sheets, trying to grab on tight because it feels like you are falling off the edge of the very world. then anthony rolls his hips into you at the sensitive new angle your heart just stops. pushing you past that precipice.

your orgasm is earth shattering. you groan around simons cock and before you know he is spilling his hot seed into your mouth with a moan, tan neck hanging back, veins straining. the sight makes you moan again and simon slips out of your pretty mouth with a little pop.

anthony is not letting up, and with how hard you came just mere minutes ago, he's already got you so overstimulated up that you can feel that all familiar pressure and heat settle in your tummy again with an alarming speed. 

he’s pushing for something perfect for you,it's what his sweet girl deserves, and heat rises up in you like a tide, seething under your skin. you think you might actually be going to come again, but the sensation is too intense and you feel overwhelmed. you clutch at simon, whimpering as it threatens to gush into your already overwhelmed and overstimulated system. 

“it's alright. you’re alright, dove" he rasps out, voice broken and dripping with exhaustion from the intensity of his own release. sliding in behind you so you can rest on his broad chest. he presses soft kisses onto the nape of your neck and the curve of your spine. "you can take it, can’t you? take it for me like a good girl.” anthony rasps as well. then he tilts your hips up even farther, and that’s it.

you're sure you've seen heaven.

electric heat explodes, engulfing your body, spreading numbingly through your limbs, drawing you in until you lose track of reality for a minute. 

when you come back to yourself, anthony is still thrusting into you. simon is still mouthing at your flushed skin, drawing circles to soothe your fucked out body. the rhythm of it is soothing, drawing out your pleasure. fuzzily,you note that everything is a slick mess. that you are soaking anthony's cock with how wet your cunt is for him. you can feel it dripping down over the curve of your ass onto the bed sheets.

with a final thrust anthony releases into your pulsing cunt with a groan of your name, and you whimper at the overstimulation.

simon shushes you, stroking your convulsing body and continuing peppering kisses onto your body.

you're fucked out and cock drunk and you can barely remember your own name. your brain is drenched in sticky sweet serotonin and if you die right now, you would die the happiest woman in the ton.

you become aware of a second presence near you, as anthony comes up to press a kiss to your lips, passionate and loving and it nearly makes you weep after he's fucked you like there's no tomorrow. "so good for me my sweet, sweet angel. was it too much?" he asks and you do cry but its happy tears.

"no, i loved it my lord. and your grace" you say, feeling your body vibrate with Simon's chuckle. "that was truly wonderful my dove. i absolutely loved every minute of it" he says, and anthony nods, sliding up to pull you into his embrace as well.

you stay like that for a moment, sweaty, blissed out bodies tangled together in the silk sheets, soft touches and gentle kisses and words of praise falling from the lips of both the men. you flutter in and out of oblivion, until simon is pressing into your back, cock hardening.

"now darling, it is rather unfair that only anthony gets to have you wrapped around his cock. i believe its my turn now" and you shiver, cunt already throbbing depsite the absolute beating it had taken.

"and i believe i should like a turn in your mouth my darling" anthony murmurs and you press soft kisses to both their sternums before pulling the both of them closer to you again.

"well my lords, what's stopping you?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n - filthy but i LOVE it!! anthony and simon could have me any day thank you <33 thank you to @enchantestuff for indulging my idea and for being such a lovely supportive darling, i love you ❤️

as always feedback and comments are appreciated a lot! i really hope you enjoyed it as much as i loved writing it.

TAGS - bridgerton - @freyathehuntress

general - @esmex44 @roslastyles420

to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a DM 💗

Bridgerton season 3

301: Out of the Shadows

He loves a squirter 💦💦

Genetics, chico. They never lie.

oh my god

Jamie & Joseph

Good Night 😁 How do you think yandere Maegor, Aegon I, Aemond and Daemon would react if their children with a darling reader wife defended their mother from them and confronted them about their unhealthy love and attitude and their way of acting with the reader and children demanded that they leave their mother alone? (reader seeing the situation: 😲😨😱😫😣😖) Lol thanks you are amazing 💖

Aemond’s part got a little long lol.

Aegon I (The Conqueror)

He, his darling wife and their child are all sitting around the table breaking fast when his youngest from his darling wife speaks up. His youngest and only daughter is a quiet girl, only speaking to her mother when he allows his wife out of her chambers and to her brothers, so it surprises him when his daughter asks him why he and his aunts ride their dragons but her mother never does. He blinks down at her and thinks of what to say to her. There is no way to make her understand why his daring wife must stay in her chambers and why she mustn’t ride her dragon.

He smiles down at her and simply says, “it’s much safer for your mother to ride with me on my dragon.”

His daughter frowns and it reminds him of how his beloved wife would frown at him at the beginning of their marriage. His daughter shakes her head and her silver braid shakes with her. “Maegor told me that our dragons bond with us. So if that is true, shouldn’t mother’s dragon be the safest place for her?”

Aegon grits his teeth and fights to keep the smile on his face. He had not cared whether his wife had given him a child or not but he knew that if she had his child she would be more pleasant, more docile. He wouldn’t have to worry so much about his wife. His daughter was his wife’s responsibility. When his wife needed to be in her chambers or spend time with him, he made sure that Rhaenys or Visenya could look after the little girl. He wondered if this curiosity came from one of them.

He looks at his darling wife and sees that she’s looking down at their child. Aegon clears his throat and she snaps her head up to him. Her eyes are wide and she’s biting her lip. Just the sight makes his cock harden. She looks between him and their daughter and tucks a stray piece of her child’s hair behind her ear and says, “I prefer to ride on daddy’s dragon.”

His daughter's frown deepens before she turns to scowl at him. “It’s wrong to keep a rider away from their dragon.”

Aegon only takes a sip from his goblet as his wife explains to their daughter that it’s best for her to stay with him. That, yes, aunt Visenya and aunt Rhaenys get to ride their dragons by themselves, but Aegon only wants to make sure she’s safe. It takes a moment for his daughter to stop with her questions but when she does, she finishes her meal and skips off to find one of her brothers. Aegon waits a moment before he turns his attention to his wife. He has to make sure she doesn’t feel the same way.

Maegor

It takes seeing his mother silently weeping after watching the maester leave for Maegor’s son of 6 years of age to finally say something to his father. He doesn’t know what’s happening or why his mother is crying but he does know that it has something to do with his father. When he marches up to his father with his arms crossed he demands to know why he’s making his mother cry.

Maegor only crouches down to his son's level and only says, “your mother is doing her duty.”

The little boy's brows furrow and he looks at his mother who still hasn’t looked up from the ground. He asks, quizzically, “what is mother’s duty?”

Maegor picks the boy up in his arms and his mother looks at him. She looks like she wants to say something but his father beats her to it. His father looks at his mother as he says, “we all have duties. Your mothers is to provide me with many children.”

He looks at his son and smiles. It seems hollow to the little boy but he doesn’t look away. “Don’t you want more brothers and sisters?”

The little boy nods enthusiastically. Of course, he does! He loves running around with his brothers. His sister is still too young to play, but sometimes he goes to her cradle and talks to her about his newly hatched dragon. He also knows his mother loves him and his siblings so why would she be upset about her duties?

“Well, when you and your siblings don’t do what is asked of you, what happens?” Maegor asks his son.

The little boy scrunches up his face and says, “we get punished.”

Maegor nods and walks over to his wife and kisses her on the forehead. There are still tears streaming down her face and now her bottom lip is wobbling. He wants to go and hug his mother but he can’t with his father holding him.

“Exactly,” his father says and turns towards the door to his mother’s chambers. The little boy looks back at his mother when he hears her call out for her husband in a desperate voice but her father doesn’t look at her as he walks out of the chambers and sets his son down. He shuts the doors and pulls out a key to lock them. “The same rules apply to your mother. Until she accepts that she must provide me with more children, she must be punished. So I want you to run along and find your brothers and don’t come back and try to find your mother until she comes to find you.”

The little boy nods and walks away with his head down. This isn’t the first time that he’s been told he’s not to be allowed around his mother for a period of time. He doesn’t like it when his mother is upset but he knows that when he sees her again she’ll be smiling like she always is when she sees them after a long time.

Aemond

Aemond’s son doesn’t say anything until he watches his mother go through letters addressed to her. Instead of a bright smile gracing her face when she reads a letter from her family back home she only frowns. He knows that his mother loves her family, and every time she talks to him about them she practically glows. So he asks a question that seems obvious to him, “why are you upset mother? Are you not happy to hear from your family?”

She looks at him and makes an attempt to smile, although to him it looks much more like a grimace. She opens her arms for him to walk into and when he does he also climbs into her lap. He knows he’s getting too big for this, being 7 years of age, but he loves when his mother holds him.

“They have asked me to come and visit them.” She tells him with a sigh.

The boy frowns and looks at his mother. He feels like he’s missing something but he doesn’t know what. “Well, then you should visit them.”

She shakes her head and kisses his forehead, “it is not that simple, my little knight, your father would never allow me.”

Before he can ask any more questions his father walks in, as though just talking about him has summoned him. Truthfully, he was surprised that he wasn’t already in the library with his mother. It’s very rare to see his mother without his father by her side. His father comes over to kiss his wife and before he can say something or ruffle his son's hair, the little boy pipes up, “why can’t mother go and see her family?”

His father frowns and looks at his mother who holds up the letter from her family. He reads it quickly and instead of handing it back to his mother he walks over and tosses it into the fireplace. He feels his mother tense but she says nothing.

“Your mother must stay here with me. If she goes back to her family's home, The Iron Islands,” his face wrinkles with disgust at the mention of the place. The little boy doesn’t know why, every time his mother talks about it, it sounds like a fun place. “she might try and leave us. You don’t want your mother to leave us and find a new family, do you?”

“No,” the little boy says immediately. He looks up at his mother and then at his father and says, “mother wouldn’t leave me, though. She can even take me with her to see the seas and the castle.”

His mother squeezes him at those words and he sees her smiling. When he looks at his father he looks furious and if sensing it his mother jumps in, “I wasn’t thinking about it, my love. I wouldn’t leave you. I love it here.”

His father looks at his mother for a moment. Like he’s trying to see if she’s lying. When he’s satisfied he walks over to her and strokes her hair and smiles down at her. He mumbles an ‘of course' but his son isn’t finished yet.

“It’s wrong to keep mother away from her family. Her sisters probably really miss her.” He says and wiggles out of his mother's grip. He stands in front of his father who towers over him. “A good husband would let his wife go.”

He knows this because his uncle Daeron often visited his wife’s home. His uncle always tells him how a good husband should act and how when he grows up and gets married how he should treat his future wife. He just wrinkled his nose at that. He doesn’t want to be married. He wants to be a knight and fight and that means he would have no time for a wife.

His father looks down at him and sighs, usually, he would kneel down to his level but he must be frustrated. “You’re right. I’ll talk to your mother about this later.”

Satisfied the little boy nods and runs out. Maybe he can sneak down to the dragon pit while his parents talk.

-*-

“You don’t want to leave me, do you, my love?” Aemond asks later that night when the rest of the Red Keep is asleep. When she doesn’t answer him he thrusts harder and brings the hand that was squeezing her tits up to her throat. He spends every night like this, buried deep in his wife. If she goes off to where she came from he wouldn’t have this. “You don’t as want to go back to the Iron Islands, I thought we agreed that one as beautiful as you doesn’t belong in a place so disgusting.”

“I’ll stay here, Aemond, I’ll write back tomorrow and tell them I won’t be coming.” His wife says before she moans loudly. He looks down at her, not fully believing her. When they first married she had asked constantly to go and visit the Iron Islands. Just thinking about it makes him angry. His thrusts become rougher and he gets closer to the edge as his darling wife wraps her legs around him.

“Maybe it’s time for another child,” he whispers quietly, almost to himself but his wife catches it. She looks up at him with wide eyes, surprised. Ever since their son was born he has been making sure that she drank moon tea. He doesn’t like the idea of sharing her attention with another but perhaps another child will make her stop thinking about those disgusting islands. “You want to give me another babe, don’t you?”

Before she can respond he grabs her hips roughly and holds them down as he spills his seed into her. He makes sure that no moon tea is brought to her in the morning and when they break their fast, he has his wife inform their son that she will not be going to the Iron Islands.

Daemon

It takes several tries from Daemon’s young daughter trying to get his attention for him to finally look her way. It is the first feast she has been allowed to be at and she’s easily excited at everything. His darling wife had tried to put it off. She had asked Daemon if perhaps they could wait a little longer, as feasts could sometimes get out of control. Daemon had only shaken his head and had a maid get his daughter ready. After all, this feast was to celebrate the health of their son's health. After months of being sickly, he has finally turned around and is as healthy as any babe.

“Daddy,” his daughter whines at him and he tries not to roll his eyes. He turns his attention away from his wife who has looked extra delicious after this last pregnancy and turns towards his daughter. “You weren’t listening.”

“No, my dear, I wasn’t,” he says and leans down so she doesn’t have to shout over all the noise. “What did you say?”

“It wasn’t me that said anything,” she looked at him with an annoyed frown. “The Lord of Highgarden has been trying to ask mother to dance but you’re keeping all of her attention for yourself.”

“The Lord of Highgarden can go dance with someone else’s wife. Your mother will stay here with me.” He says, dismissively.

He tries to turn back to his wife who has already turned to talk to Lyonel Tyrell but his daughter has other plans. “You always do this.”

He grabs his wife’s hand before he continues talking to his child. His wife will know that he doesn’t want her leaving this table, much less dancing with that Tyrell cunt. He can feel her tense beside him and he knows that she is thinking of the last time she decided to pay attention to some other petty lord. It was the same night he had spilled his seed in her over and over again until he was certain she was with child. He smirks slightly at the memory of her the next day. She hadn’t been able to walk or sit down easily. He had made sure to leave red marks and bruises on her behind as a reminder of who she belonged to.

“What do I always do, my child?” He asks, not caring if his boredom with this conversation is apparent in his tone.

His daughter rolls her eyes as though her father’s behavior is obvious to everyone. After all, if she can see it at 5 years of age, so should everyone else. “You never share mother.”

“Of course I don’t,” Daemon chuckled and glared at the lord sitting beside his daughter who has decided to eavesdrop on his conversation. “She’s my wife.”

The little girl balls her fists up in frustration and says, “she’s my mom and you barely let her go enough for her to play with me.”

Of course, he didn’t. He wasn’t about to share his wife’s attention with a child. It didn’t matter if it was his child. The only reason she was here, to begin with, was because he wanted to marry his dear wife and no one would allow him, so he fucked her until she was with child. The only reason his daughter was still in the castle was that having a child made his wife more agreeable to him.

“You have servants and maids to play with you,” he responded and his daughter only shook her head.

“They aren’t mother!”

Her loud proclamation drew his wife’s attention. Daemon frowned and patted her hand. Mouthing to her that he would handle it. His wife frowned and looked at their daughter, clearly debating on whether or not to argue with Daemon. Eventually, she turned when Daemon moved his arm behind her chair and grazed the back of her neck with his fingers.

“You’re right,” he says to his daughter. She looks confused at his words. Her father never admits when he’s wrong. “How about tomorrow you and mother play in the garden?”

His daughter nodded her head enthusiastically and finally turned her attention to the people dancing.

Daemon’s eyes made their way towards Lyonel Tyrell as he thought. His wife would enjoy spending time with her daughter and while they were in the royal gardens he would be talking to the Lord of Highgarden. His daughter was old enough to be given as a ward. Sure, his darling wife would be upset about him sending their daughter away but she has a new babe to look after. Plus, Daemon thought with a sly smirk, the maesters have told him that she was recovered from the birth of their son. Tonight he would make sure to give her another child so she wouldn’t be so distracted by the absence of her daughter.

Oh yeah

BRIDGERTON 2.05 “An Unthinkable Fate”