Bridgerton game play: Love & Tragedy part one
Dearest gentle reader,
As the members of our esteemed ton sojourn in the countryside this winter, it appears that our regularly scheduled expansion pack drop ennui is forestalled. For this is as much a tale of love and woe, as one may say befitting of Juliet and Romeo. The tea is hot, it is ready to spill, and I hope it will find you in very good spirits, dear reader.
So, without further ado:
Under her mother's watchful eye, rebellious and moody Lady Hyacinth is successfully presented to her royal majesty Queen Charlotte.
As preparation for Lady Hyacinth's season in town, Violet plans to invite the sequestering ton to a winter masquerade ball. She also hopes to find a suitor for her unwed wild child, Lady Eloise. Lady Eloise however, simply does not care. During the ball the Bridgerton siblings dance, meeting mysterious nobles. Lady Danbury and Queen Charlotte are both in a surprisingly pleasant mood this evening, possibly thanks to Lady Eloise's genius plot to spike the punch.
During the ball, Daphne confides in her mother about her marital problems. It turns our her beloved husband Simon, Duke of Hastings, hates children. Like a lot. We'll come back to that.
The next day, Lady Sofia, of the noble house of Abrantes, comes to visit to thank Violet for inviting her to the truly wonderful ball. She brings along her mother, dragon-woman Ermelinda, and her much beleaguered & divorced, but still really hot, older brother Thiago. Eloise is asked - yelled at - to come down and meet their guests. Their eyes lock. Eloise and Thiago are in love.
On the way to the first meeting of their courtship, Eloise decides to walk. As the cruel hand of fate would have it, a snap snowstorm begins. The paths in the countryside are very long. Eloise tragically freezes to death. The family grieves her deeply, especially her mother Violet. The quiet cold of winter has robbed them of joy and brought ice to their noble hearts.
But, dear reader, I will leave you with this; where one life ends, another begins - and it blooms where you may least expect.
Sincerely,
Lady Simmerdown