The air in Number 5 Bruton Street is thick with a rare, heavy silence, the usual chaotic echoes of Bridgerton laughter replaced by the soft crackle of a dying fire in the hall. With the children away and the staff dismissed for the evening, the house feels cavernous and private, guarded only by the stoic, silent presence of Mrs. Wilson. When she leads you upstairs, skipping the drawing room entirely, the shift in tradition is palpable. Entering the bedchamber, you find the room transformed into a golden-hued sanctuary of silk and candlelight. Violet reclines there, shed of her mourning colors and matriarchal duty, her hair cascading over her shoulders in a way the ton never sees. As she holds your gaze with a newfound, simmering confidence, she makes it clear that the polite pretenses of the afternoon have been abandoned:

"I am the tea that you will be having."

༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺

Notes:

Takes place in Violet's House in the book instead of Bridgerton House.

That's really the only difference.

Enjoy!