0000. PROLOGUE
— what a ghostly scene

LIFE IS A CYCLE OF BIRTHS AND DEATHS — DESPITE THIS, IT IS THE YEARS IN BETWEEN THAT SEEM TO ENTRANCE POETS. It is the idea of what a person can do, what a person can see, how they can live. The poets and authors have always been enamored with life itself and everything that comes with it. The years in between just lead to such a mystery, such an opening to write about anything and everything. Olive Fitzroy had been sucked into the world of poetry at a young age, her father being more than happy to allow her governess to teach her the classics (and almost anything else that Olive wished to study and know) (to be completely honest, Olive being the oldest and first child gave her the advantage of having her father wrapped around her finger) (and she used that to her advantage, thank you very much!), and because of that she had expectations of what she expected the world to be like. Or perhaps she was just simply believing in the ways her mother would make it seem when she read her stories before bed. The picture-perfect ideals of what everything will be like. Orange dusted skies as the sun begins to set across fields blossoming with flowers, being able to frolic amongst them freely with laughter bouncing from your chest as her heart was full of joy. Full of love. Her mother had always led her to believe that in the end, Olive would always be able to expect to fall in love and to stay in love. Her mother had showed her the poetry that explained the beauty of a love match, from then on Olive had dreamed of only one thing.

The day that she got to meet her love match. The day that she, the intelligent eldest daughter of the Marquis of Northampton, entered her debut season and fell in love. Only, that never happened. Olive never got her chance to debut to society, not after what happened to her mother while giving birth to her youngest sister. Not after her mother died. The entire world shifted that day, Olive Fitzroy felt her entire world flip upside down and suddenly she saw everything entirely different from how it used to be. Instead of this perfect fairytale world full of bright colors and what ifs, Olive was stuck cradling her youngest sister close to her chest wondering what the point of everything was. How could life be a fairytale yet leave four children without a mother. How could life be a fairytale and yet, without fail, leave her reeling. Leave her yearning to have something back that she never would have thought she could lose so soon.

And the saddest part was, Olive Fitzroy was not sad for herself. She did not mourn the loss of her mother, she was mourning the loss three times over for her younger sisters who would barely remember their mother. Emmeline was the second eldest and even then, she was barely ten when their mother died, there were still so many things yet that their mother had taught her. And then there was Dorothy who had barely graced the age of six, still smiling with gaps within her smile from losing her baby teeth, she would blink one day and all memories of their mother would be gone. Then there was Eleanor, minutes old by the time their mother died, she would know nothing of their mother. While Olive felt her mother's death run through her not too much unlike what she believed being stampeded by horses would be, their loss was just as hard if not worse. And for some reason, Olive could not help but feel guilty that she got the chance to have that much time with their mother.

She certainly did not feel as though she deserved to have that time. Especially now as she was going to throw it all away. Even if that were against her father's wishes.

Augustus looked up from the desk in his study when he heard the door opening without an announcement from their servant William, he knew who was going to be walking through the doors. It was going to be the only person who was brave enough to bother him while he was working. One of the few people that could bother him while he was working without getting in trouble. Augustus Fitzroy had always carried a soft spot for his daughter's, but especially the first one who made him a father to begin with. Perhaps it was just because she was their first and she was four years elder than their second, but Olive had always been able to wiggle her way into her fathers good side even when she shouldn't have been. It often worked out for Olive's advantage, when it came to the lessons her governess taught her she was always able to convince her father to take more lessons with advanced mathematics. And she had always been interested in the exact work her father did, for the longest time she would sit next to him and watch as he worked. Watch as he dealt with the inter-workings of his job as a Marquis — if the times were different, Olive was sure she could have taken over his position and done quite well. If she had been born the opposite gender, she knew she would have succeeded and her father would have had no worried over the future state of Northampton and who would be taking over for him. But she knew that was a worry and now, not even five months after the death of her mother, she knew he was thinking about it more often. It was something he couldn't help but think about — he just lost his wife and now couldn't help but think about how limited his time on this Earth was too.

Olive walked through the door, her pink silk dress held between her thumb and pointer finger as she rubbed it together out of nervousness. Nearing the age of fifteen, Olive knew that technically, in three short years she was set for making her debut season. The very thing she had put on a pedestal at a young age, something she yearned to have. Something she could not wait to experience. And yet, as she stood in front of her father's desk, she knew this sacrifice she was about to make was for the better. Augustus peered up from his papers when he saw her shadow stop and loom over his desk, lips tugging downward when he saw the nerves all over her face.

"Olive? What is worrying you?" Augustus set his quill down, leaning back in his seat.

"Must I debut into society when I turn eighteen?" Olive questioned, shocking her father.

"If you do not wish to do so, I will not force you," Augustus responded, brows furrowing. "But you have always stated that you wanted to debut then, am I correct?"

Olive felt herself stumble, what was she supposed to respond with when he was correct. She had been excited, waiting and waiting for her moment to debut and make a love match. And there was a part of her that longed for it still. After all, she was still just a young girl thrust into a world of despair. It never took away her own hopes and dreams, just gave her an outlook and a reason to put them aside. Her sisters would need someone who could aid in raising them, teach them how to be. Just like their mother had taught her. But how was she supposed to voice this to her father? The very man who would be forced to support his daughter as she turns into a spinster all to help raise her younger sisters. While Olive knew her father was more than happy to have four healthy children, he wished for a son so he would not worry about the state of his affairs and his daughters if he were to die. When the former Viscount Bridgerton died, that was one of the things her father spoke about. At least Anthony was of age to take his father's spot. Olive Fitzroy could not be the one to take over her family's estate, neither could any of her three sisters. That, in itself, is another reason why Olive dreamed of her ability to enter the marriage mart. For she knew that when she did eventually marry, it would lessen some of the weight on her father's shoulders. He wouldn't have to worry about one of his four daughters.

But now she wasn't going to do that. Not for a while. Not for a long time at least. Perhaps never.

"Olive?" Augustus looked up out of worry due to her lack of response, watching as his eldest daughter walked herself through many emotions.

Olive let out a soft breath, suddenly finding it hard to breathe in the study despite his windows being open and the cool breeze flowing through them, "I have stated that is my plan, yes."

"Then I shall see no reason for you not to debut," Augustus shrugged, as if it was that simple of an ordeal. Seemingly noting her anxiety, he spoke again, "Unless there has been in a change in your wishes?"

"My sisters," Olive reasoned, "they are so young."

"Yes," Augustus nodded out of confusion.

"And now without Mama," she spoke softer, trying to calm her own emotions as she fought back the tears that threatened to spill, "they will need someone who reached them how to exist within society."

"We have Governesses for such things," Augustus reasoned. "We are well within our limits to afford the best of them."

"I am sure of that," Olive nodded. "I always had the best governess, I have you to thank for that, Papa. But you and I both know there are things that we would need a Mama for. Things that Dorothy, Eleanor, and Emmeline will need someone to lean on and ask about. Things that I had the chance to ask mom about before she."

"You're not suggesting that," Augustus laughed, not out of amusement but out of shock. "That you wish to put your debut into society on hold to help raise your younger siblings."

"Is it really that outrageous, Papa?" The young girl tilted her head, already questioning her thought process. Maybe she was wrong for even thinking of such a thing. Olive tugged at the silk of her dress again, "I did not mean for it to be so —"

"It is not outrageous, Olive," Augustus spoke over his daughter, firmly trying to stop her rambling (which he knew would have snowballed into something much worse, it always did) (she had a tendency for getting into her head), "It's just, you've always wanted to debut into society. It's something your mother spoke very highly about."

Olive felt time stop for a moment, for once she put herself back into the shoes of a near fifteen year old girl who had just lost her mother and not an older sister who believed her sisters suffered a greater loss. Like the shores being hit by a wave, Olive felt herself struggling to breathe. Struggling to swim her way back up to the surface after being buried (quite quickly might she add) by her grief. In that moment she wasn't a fifteen year old girl who was brave enough to face the world with a smile on her face and be the happy person her younger sisters needed — she was a fifteen year old girl who was dealing with the loss of her mother. The loss of her childhood. The loss of everything she had known. Her sisters had it easier, at least from Olive's perspective (she was sure they still struggled), they weren't burdened with near-fifteen years worth of memories to remember. Then again, that's exactly the reason as to why she felt guilty. Guilty that she got those years with their mother. Guilty that she got to know what it was like to have their mother guide them into what their womanhood would be like. Teach them what it means to be a Lady among the Ton. Someone who helps them learn how to cross-stitch (because God knows Olive would not be the one to help them learn) or play the piano (Olive would like it noted she could help with that one). Someone who would teach them what was prim and proper, everything they would need to know to impress the right types of gentlemen. After all, they were daughters of a Marquis, they had a title that deserved attention. They had status that gave them respect among society, they needed to play that part.

Her sisters would never have the chance to know what that was like. But Olive knew now that she would forever be haunted with the ghosts of those memories. A ghostly scene replaying of her mother teaching her the very things she will never use. Olive Fitzroy had made up her mind, she had done it long before she walked into her father's study, there was no way around it. She had been taught all of the ins and outs of how to be a Lady by the only person that Olive would trust (with all respect to her Aunt and to the widowed Viscountess Bridgerton, Olive knew they would be able to teach them all many things, but there was only one person Olive wanted to learn from) to do so. It only made sense she would now turn around and teach her sisters how to do the same.

Emerging to the surface of the water, Olive felt herself drop her dress from her grasp. It was like air could finally flow into her lungs, filling them up with the oxygen she had seemingly forgotten how to take in and shakily letting it leave. She swallowed, trying to get her footing as she blinked away the few tears that had formed on her lash-line. Her father eyed her carefully, setting down his quill as his daughter showed the first signs of any sadness about the loss of her mother. Olive sighed, "They need a mother more than I need a love match."

Augustus wordlessly stared at his daughter, he was sure it was a knife that had stabbed into his chest and twisted. Watching his eldest daughter bite the inside of her cheek, doing her best to ignore the pain that was so clearly flowing through her veins to seem strong. For a moment, he couldn't help but wonder where he had gone so wrong that she would ignore her own emotions like such. She deserved to grieve just as much as he had, as much as anyone else had. She was allowed to be sad about her mother's death — she deserved to grieve just as much if not more than anything or anyone else. Augustus stood up, his wooden chair screeching against the wooden floors of the study, quick to make his way from behind the desk to stand in front of his daughter. He tentatively reached a hand out and placed it on her arm, soothingly rubbing a circle onto it with his thumb, "Your sisters will be fine, Olive, you do not have to give up anything to give them something you believe them to need."

Olive looked up at her father with misty eyes, "It is not just that, Papa."

"What is it?" Augustus tilted his head, confused.

"How am I supposed to entire society without mother by my side? Who would I lean on for help when I need it? How could I imagine having a love match knowing my mother would not be there when I would get married? Knowing she wouldn't be there when I get my dress created. Papa, I cannot," Olive shook her head, biting at the inside of her cheeks. "I cannot get that chance, but with Emmeline, Dorothy, and Eleanor I can be that person. I can be one who helps guide them through everything. I could be the one who they entrust to be there through thick and thin. They deserve to have someone they can trust like that."

"I do not wish for you to give up your dream just because she would not be here to see it," Augustus lifted his other hand to cup his daughter's cheek. "You know your mother would want you to debut and find your love match. That somewhere out there, she'd be watching every little thing you do."

"I know," Olive nodded. "But I do not need a love match to be happy. I do not need to debut into society to be happy. I am perfectly content with the idea of helping to teach my sisters how to be. And then, one day, when Eleanor is old enough to be helped by others outside of just me, you can find me a match. I'm sure you will find me one that is acceptable. Kind and good-mannered. An all-around well-rounded gentleman. Someone that you know I could be happy with. For whatever it's worth, I wouldn't despise the idea of being labeled as a spinster if it weren't for the fact that it would make my sisters have a much more difficult time in the marriage mart."

"Olive," Augustus closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. "You should not have to do such a thing at such an age. Giving up your hopes is not something I wish for you."

"Who knows, Papa," Olive shrugged. "Perhaps one day I will find myself falling for a gentleman and getting my love match. You and I both know that the likelihood of me finding a love match while on the mart would have been incredibly low. It was just me holding onto some poetic sense of love that I didn't want to let go. Perhaps it was childish of me to think such a thing, perhaps it was not. I am quite certain that I will never know and never be able to find out if it was. I would like to believe that it was not outlandish to believe in. But, I always was a fan of the Prince Charming who came to save the day."

Augustus laughed, "I seemingly remember that idea of Prince Charming being centered around a certain Bridgerton a few summers ago."

Olive felt her cheeks heat up, red crossing her cheeks as she looked up at her father. That was never, ever, something she had told him about. Why would she? Most young girls rarely ever spoke to their fathers, Olive spoke to hers more than many of the other girls in the Ton (she liked to believe that it was just that her father was genuinely happy to be one and not just that he had no sons to speak to and teach about the life around them), but she would not dare to speak to her father about such things as her crushes. Especially the one she harbored on one of the very boys she grew up next to and with. She had barely told her mother about it — the time she told her about it was almost funny. The memory one of those things that Olive now came back to whenever she wanted to laugh through her sadness. Remembering the shock her mother held when she let it slip that Colin Bridgerton, the very boy she had been thick as thieves with since they were mere three year olds, had been who her heart attached itself to. In some ways, Olive believed her mother conspired with Violet to get them closer together. Barely thirteen at the time, the two were barely grasping onto the ideas of romance and that entire world of things. Or, at the very least, Olive had been beginning to grasp those ideals. That was the year that everything changed. The very summer that Colin was wrecked with something that Olive could have never imagined (at least, not until nearly two years later when she had to go through it herself), the two were thrusted apart. Like two people drifting on two separate pieces of wood that had a wave come between them.

She hasn't seen him since that summer. He sent her a letter she had yet to open not too long after her mother passed. But, again, it all felt like the ghosts of her past were trying to come back to her. Each time she thought about her decision of one thing, something would come back out of the woodwork that put a seedling of doubt into her heart. Somehow, Colin Bridgerton was the hardest sprouting flower to ignore.

"Papa," Olive looked away, "things were different back then."

"That does not mean you should throw it all away," Augustus gave her a sad smile. "All I mean to say is, I will do whatever it is you ask of me to do. If you would like to never debut into society, so be it. If you would like to debut into society at eighteen like planned, that will be what we do. But I will not submit to something that you feel like you must do. There is nothing you must do except make yourself happy, that is what your mother would have wanted and it is what I want for you. For however long I am alive, you will be supported and you will have nothing to worry about."

"Papa, this is what I want," Olive nodded. "I want to help my sisters understand what it is to be part of this entire world. I wish to be one of the people who teaches them these things, just like mom taught me."

"And what about your life?"

"If I find love along the way, I would hope you allow me to marry them," Olive smiled. "But, if I do not, I wish for you to find someone for me to marry. I know you do not think highly of arranged marriages, but I cannot be a burden to you for my entire lifetime. I refuse to be. So, there will come a time when Eleanor and Dorothy are both old enough to not need me anymore. When that time comes around," Olive tapped her fingers against her dress, "I should be ready for whatever happens. Whether that be marrying for love or marrying someone you believe could, at the very least, lead me to live a content life."

"You deserve to have more than just a content life," Augustus reiterated, knowing that his daughter was similar to him in the fashion of once she got the idea for something, she was never dropping it. He knew that this is what she had made up her mind with. There was no changing it now. And this wasn't an easy decision, it's not one he's fully onboard with. Olive is his firstborn, the daughter he has watched grow into this capable and intelligent teenager who had very specific dreams. Dreams that she would never have the chance of pursuing by doing this. By choosing to help teach her sisters everything within the world of the Ton. It wasn't a light feat, even his late wife struggled with teaching Olive about the Ton and she had been part of it for years. Augustus couldn't help but note the similarities she had with her mother then, the physical characteristics had always been noteworthy (though, Augustus liked to believe Olive shared more features with him considering the younger three looked like carbon copies of their mother). Especially with that look that Olive held in her eyes — something about that spark, the determination reminded him of her. Augustus smiled, bringing a hand up to his daughter's cheek, "There's no talking you out of this, I'm sure of it. So, I want you to know that at any point, and I mean any point, you decide you want to debut into society or that you want to try and have a love-match, you have full permission."

Olive closed her eyes, relishing in the tender moment being shared between father and daughter. A part of her tried to remember what this used to be like. When he mother used to walk in and join the soft and loving moment. It was almost as if she could hear her faint humming coming from the corner of the room. A chill went through Olive for a moment as she thought about her mother, an ache from deep within her soul crying out. Even being in her father's study hurt. Every room of their home was haunted with another ghostly scene, another time and another place that she had memories with her mother in. Sighing, Olive continued to fight back the tears that had been threatening to come out, "I miss her, Papa."

Augustus smiled, using his thumb to wipe away some of the spare tears that had crept out from her eyes, "I miss her too. Not a day goes by that I don't wish she were here, watching as you and your sisters grow older day by day. I think your mother is proud of you for choosing to do this, she would have done the same thing if she were in your shoes."

And, somehow, those last few words were exactly what Olive Cordelia Fitzroy needed to hear.

AUTHORS NOTE

(shoutout to tiishas for this manip!!) (she ATE)

ahhhhhhh first chapter I've written in full in a LONG time!! it's not the greatest and it's not as long as my normal chapters are (the following actual story chapters will be I promise) but !! it's setting us up for the story 🤭🤞✨.

pleaseeeee let me know your thoughts & feelings guys!!