#choices trr fanfic

[ao719]

Best Kept Secrets

Best Kept Secrets - I’ll Take The Fall (Chapter 16)

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

Summary: An unforeseen encounter with the past proves that even the best-kept secrets eventually make their way into the light. 

Title inspiration: Villain - Lucie Silvas

Book/Pairing: TRR; Liam x F!OC

A/N: Thank you to @burnsoslow for prereading. Please excuse any errors. 

Rating: M • Warning: This series will contain NSFW material. If you read, you acknowledge you are 18+

Catch up here

Sitting inside his study, Liam anxiously drummed his fingers against his desk, staring at his laptop screen. He was waiting for a call from Amalas and Olivia, who were currently in Auvernal, attending their Fleet Week event. 

Olivia met with Amalas in Monterisso a couple of days ago to hash out their plan. They’d arrived at the Auvernese palace that morning with the intention of sneaking off to do some digging; it was now late afternoon, and Liam had yet to hear from either of them. 

A knock on his study door pulled his attention; Liam called for them to enter, and Rashad stepped inside a moment later, shutting the door behind him. “Anything?”

Liam shook his head. “Not yet …” 

Rashad could see the worry in his old friend’s eyes. “I’m sure they’re fine.” 

“I just don’t want them to get themselves into a bind by getting caught.”

“They’re not going to get caught,” Rashad retorted. “They both have plenty of experience in this area and know what they’re doing. Just relax.” 

“This is my best chance at getting something concrete enough to get out of this damn alliance.” Liam sighed as he raked his fingers through his hair. “If they don’t find anything …”

“If they don’t find anything, we’ll keep looking,” Rashad said. The stress of this — among other things — over the past month had certainly taken its toll on his friend, and he could both see and sense it. “We’ll get out of this, Liam, one way or another. You have my word.” 

Liam blew out a breath and nodded. “I hope so.” He looked at Rashad again. “Did you just come from the council meeting?”

“Yes,” Rashad answered. “They want to meet tomorrow so we can discuss the announcement. Should Olivia and Amalas get what we need, they want to make sure we’re ready with a statement so we can stay ahead of Bradshaw on the matter and get it out before he tries anything.”

“Understandable,” Liam nodded. 

“They also made a request …”

Liam tilted his head. “And what’s that?”

“They want to bring Amara in on these discussions,” Rashad replied, and Liam’s brows slightly rose. “She is Sophia’s mother, so they feel it would be for the best to have her involved in the plan for the announcement and so she’s kept in the loop … and I have to say I agree. Daniel said he’d let her know. I just thought I’d give you a heads up that she’ll probably be there …” Liam glanced away, silently nodding. “Have you spoken to her at all since everything happened?” 

“No,” Liam answered, staring out the window. “I haven’t.”

It had been a few days since Liam had spotted Amara playing with Sophia out in the gardens. That was the first time he’d even seen her since that day they spoke in his study a month ago. Any communication they had was still done through Riley and Daniel. They hadn’t spoken at all. Not a word. 

“Are you going to be ok with that?” Rashad asked. “With her being there?”

“Yes,” Liam nodded. “I’ll be fine.” 

“And are you sure you two can be cordial?” 

“I will be,” Liam replied as he met Rashad’s gaze again. “I can’t speak for her. As I said, we haven’t spoken.”

“Do you think she’s going to have any qualms about the announcement?”

“I’m sure she’ll have some worries … because we’re obviously going to have to be forthcoming in the statement about our past. It’s not like it will be a secret once it’s out there that we had a relationship while Madeleine and I were married; it’s simple mathematics. I know she was worried before about any scrutiny Sophia and I could face if our history got out, so I don’t doubt that will still be a concern of hers.” 

“Not a concern for herself?”

“I’m sure she’s worried about herself as well,” Liam said with a shrug. “I just mean that she specifically said she was trying to protect Sophia and me, so I’m assuming that will more than likely be the biggest concern she’ll have, more so regarding Sophia.”

Rashad nodded, letting his thoughts on the matter stir for a moment. “Well, I guess we’ll find out tomorrow how she feels …” 

Liam nodded. “I guess …” 

“Alright, well, if you hear any—”

Rashad was cut off by the sound of an incoming video call on Liam’s laptop; they both looked at each other, and the look on Liam’s face told him exactly who it was. He hurried toward the desk to listen in just as the King answered. 

“Olivia,” Liam said in a relieved tone, able to see they were settled in their seats on the jet. “Are you and Amalas alright?” 

“Of course we’re alright,” Olivia scoffed.

“You weren’t doubting us, were you, Liam?” Amalas playfully asked. 

“No, I just … I hadn’t heard from either of you since last night, and … I may have started to worry a bit.”

“It’s heartwarming to know you care,” Amalas quipped. 

Olivia chuckled as she looked back at the screen. “We’re fine. We’re on the jet headed back to Monterisso.”

“Did you find anything?” Rashad asked.

“Right to the point. I like him,” Amalas said. “Yes … maybe.”

Liam furrowed his brows. “What does that mean?”

“We were able to sneak into his study,” Amalas answered. “I found something that piqued my curiosity …”

“Go on,” Liam urged.

“While snooping, I found multiple past correspondences between Bradshaw and the former Queen of Rivala.”

“Reena?” Liam questioned.

Amalas nodded. “We just got done speaking with her before we called you. It took some persuading to get her to tell us any of this because she’s afraid … but did you know that Rivala had an alliance agreement with Auvernal two years ago?”

“What?” Liam’s brows rose in surprise. “No.” 

“According to Reena,” Amalas began, “her daughter was set to marry Isaac Achilles in a betrothal alliance just like the one they approached you with. As part of the proceedings, she had her physician perform a routine medical exam on their twins, but before she could see the results, Bradshaw and Isabella seized them. When Reena refused the alliance after that, feeling as though they were hiding something, she claims Auvernal sent their troops in to occupy Rivala, and she had no choice but to accept the alliance and step down as monarch to avoid an all-out war.”

Both Liam’s and Rashad’s eyes widened. “Holy shit,” Rashad gasped. 

“Wait,” Liam shook his head. “If that’s true, how the hell has no one heard about it?” 

“They rebranded her concession as a willing alliance and made it appear as though the two nations combined to be one,” Olivia answered. “They forced her hand into giving up her kingdom because they knew she would want to protect her people from unnecessary bloodshed. I think Bradshaw had the same intention with Cordonia, but he found something else to use against you instead of brute force …”

“Amara,” Liam said quietly.

Olivia nodded. “Sending his troops there would have been a last resort, but you folded when he threatened to out your past, so he didn’t need to.”

“Plus,” Amalas interjected, “having Auvernese troops in Cordonia after having them in Rivala would have looked a little too suspicious for Bradshaw’s liking, so it worked out better in his favor to not have to send them in.” 

“Do we have any proof of this other than Reena’s word?” Liam asked. “It’s not that I don’t believe her, I do. But this isn’t concrete enough. If they had her sign an alliance as they did with me, it won’t hold, and Bradshaw will just accuse her of fabricating it all two years after the fact.”  

“No … we don’t have any proof,” Amalas shook her head. “Not yet. I did find a flash drive hidden in a secret compartment in Bradshaw’s desk drawer, but I don’t know what’s on it. It’s encrypted, so I’ll need time to decode it.” 

“Considering it was hidden and is encrypted, my guess is there’s something there,” Olivia added. “Whatever’s on it, they don’t want anyone to see.” 

“My thoughts exactly,” Amalas nodded. 

“And Reena offered to be of assistance in any way she can in hopes of exposing Auvernal’s illegal siege of Rivala,” Olivia said. “She said she hopes to spare Cordonia from the same fate.” 

Liam shared a look with Rashad before glancing back at the screen with a nod. “So we just need to hope there’s something on that flash drive we can use …”

“Pretty much,” Amalas nodded. 

“Also, I snagged you a little gift while rummaging through that shithole,” Olivia smirked.

Liam arched his brow curiously; she held up a piece of paper in front of the screen, and his eyes slightly widened once it came into focus. “Is that—”

“The original alliance document that you were forced to sign,” Olivia grinned. “That way, when we do take this asshole down, you can destroy it.” 

“Thank you,” Liam smiled. “Thank you both.” 

“I’m going to start working on this flash drive,” Amalas said. “I’ll be in touch …” 

****

That night, Liam sat in the cushioned glider in Sophia’s room inside his quarters, staring down at her as he attempted to rock her to sleep. Having had her stay overnight with him the past few nights had been going well, but they were both still adjusting to the new routine. The first night, getting her to sleep wasn’t an issue. 

The last couple of nights, however, was another story. 

Sophia stared back at him, and he tucked his lips between his teeth to stifle a laugh when she offered one of her adorable toothy grins. “You need to go to sleep,” Liam said through a quiet chuckle. She let out a little squeal as she sat up in his arms, and he positioned her to stand on his thighs as he held her. “This is not going to sleep.” A sound like a raspberry escaped her as she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his as she scrunched her nose. “You’re too cute for your own good. You know that?” 

Another toothy grin. 

Liam shifted her to lay against his chest and she rested her head on his shoulder as he rubbed her back and started to rock again. “Dada,” she murmured, and he froze. “Da da da da da.” He moved so he could tilt his head to look at her as she turned her face to snuggle into the crook of his neck, clutching the front of his shirt in her tiny hand. “Daaaaaa Dada.”

Liam wasn’t sure if she was actually saying the word or was just listening to herself make the sound, but he didn’t care. He smiled and let out a breath, blinking the tears from his eyes as he rested his cheek against her head and resumed his rocking. “That’s right, Soph. Daddy’s got you.”

As Sophia finally started to drift off to sleep, Liam found Amara at the forefront of his mind. Truthfully, she’d been lingering there since that afternoon when Rashad came to see him.  

Knowing they would be coming face-to-face for the first time tomorrow had Liam feeling a little more nervous than he wanted to admit. He wasn’t sure what or how he was going to feel. He’d spent the last month trying to process everything; he’d had time to think, spending some nights awake and replaying everything he’d been told. He tried to put himself in Amara’s shoes and inside her head during that time in order to try and better understand where she was coming from. And while some things had been put into a different perspective, helping to assuage his anger and resentment, he’d be lying if he said the hurt and betrayal he felt wasn’t still there. 

Liam was worried that seeing Amara could reopen wounds that only just started to heal and destroy any progress he’d made in trying to come to terms with everything. He also knew, however, that Amara had just as much right as he did to be a part of these discussions, to know what the plan was for announcing their child to the world. Sure, he could fire back his own request that the council just meet with them separately and relay their suggestions and opinions on the matter to the other, but regardless of where they currently stood on a personal level, this wasn’t about them. 

Liam also thought that just maybe this had the potential to be a good thing. Yes, he’d been actively avoiding Amara as he spent time with Sophia to build a bond and relationship with her while simultaneously wading through all of his thoughts and feelings about everything as best he could. And from what he’d been told, Amara had been actively avoiding him as well out of both a desire for him to have time with Sophia on his own and a fear of upsetting him and tainting that time. 

Perhaps being forced into a room together with other people could be the first step in getting them to a place where they were both comfortable enough to talk on their own.

*******

Late the following morning, Liam sat inside the council chambers with Rashad and a few others as they waited for everyone to arrive. He and Rashad were speaking in hushed tones as others began to file into the room. 

Liam glanced up at the door just as Daniel stepped inside followed by Amara; his eyes locked on her as he slowly straightened himself in his chair. Her eyes shifted around the room, hesitant and afraid in a way. Daniel gestured for her to take the seat beside him, the one across from Liam at the opposite end of the long table. When she sat, she folded her hands in her lap and kept her gaze cast downward. She appeared to be nervous, which wasn’t like her at all; Liam wasn’t sure if it was the meeting, seeing him, or both. 

Still looking at her, Liam watched when Amara glanced up at the door as the last few people filed into the room … including Madeleine. He saw Amara’s throat bob as she swallowed thickly and looked away, closing her eyes; it was obvious seeing Madeleine had caught her off guard and made her more uncomfortable than she clearly already was. 

Despite the purpose of these meetings being how to announce Sophia’s existence to the world, Liam thought Madeleine should be included as well because his relationship with Amara during their marriage would also be made public. He and Madeleine still held a deep respect for one another, and because this had the potential to throw her into the middle of a media frenzy, he asked if she’d like to be there, to which she said yes. 

Madeleine walked over to Liam, and he stood from his chair, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek before she took her seat. When he sat back down, his eyes lifted to Amara again; she still hadn’t looked at him. 

“Alright,” Rashad spoke up, quieting the murmurs of the others in the room. “Everyone is here, so let’s get started.” 

As they began to discuss the reasons for the meetings, Amara inconspicuously lifted her gaze to Liam; he was looking at Bertrand, who was currently speaking. She’d been trying not to look at him, afraid of seeing the utter disdain for her in his eyes if she did. 

When Daniel came to her yesterday and told her the council had requested her presence in the meetings and the reason why, Amara agreed to go. She appreciated being kept in the loop, and she wanted to know exactly what their plan was regarding the announcement of Sophia; she’d have heard it from Daniel regardless, but she was glad to be included in the discussions. She’d be lying if she said the thought of coming face-to-face with Liam for the first time in a month didn’t keep her up last night, however. Nervous didn’t begin to describe what she was feeling. 

Amara had continued to struggle in the weeks since everything came to light, and she continued to keep it to herself. Knowing she was going to be sitting in the same room with Liam had her feeling more than just on edge all morning; she was worried about keeping her composure and not breaking down in front of him. 

The moment Amara stepped inside the council chambers, she felt Liam’s presence. She felt his gaze shift to her. And she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, not only because she couldn’t bear to see exactly what he thought of her in his expression, but because she was afraid that if her eyes met his, any bit of strength she was holding onto in order not to fall apart would dissipate.

“So, what are your thoughts on how to go about this, sir?” Hakim asked, pulling Amara’s attention to him; she couldn’t help when her gaze flickered to Liam again a moment later.

Liam leaned his elbows against the table, pressing his clasped hands over his mouth as he sorted through his thoughts. He’d been thinking about this the past few days, and he knew what he was about to say would surprise some, Amara included. “I’d like to keep everything as … simple and civil as possible,” he said. “I’d prefer this announcement to be done in a way that doesn’t point fingers at any one person in particular.”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, I’m not sure that’s possible,” Bertrand spoke before looking at Amara. “I’m not trying to come off as though I’m passing judgment, so please don’t take it that way,” he glanced back at Liam, “but the facts are the facts, sir. You were kept in the dark about the existence of the child.”

At that moment, Amara wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. 

“I have to agree, sir,” Landon chimed in. “I’m not sure if there’s truly a way to get around not pointing any fingers.”

“There is a way,” Liam said matter of factly. “We flub the truth.” His gaze lifted, meeting Amara’s for the first time; she looked more taken aback than anyone else in that room by what he was saying. He glanced back to his council. “We don’t give all of the details as to why I didn’t know. We chalk it up to miscommunication and misunderstanding. We focus on the present instead of the past.”

“Sir—”

Liam held his hand up to silence Bertrand. “I just feel that it would be the best way for the people and press to keep their focus on what matters now. To say, yes, this happened, this is where we are, and we’re dealing with it. It would just make things easier for everyone to move forward and not dwell on anything else.”

Amara imperceptibly shook her head in disbelief. 

Yes, Liam was well aware that he could potentially save himself, his reputation, and that of the monarchy should he just tell the truth and attempt to shift the attention to Amara and what she had done. He didn’t want to do that to her, though. Despite his lingering anger and hurt, he still loved her and cared about her well-being. He wasn’t out for revenge and didn’t want to offer her up as a proverbial lamb to the slaughter in order to save himself, which wasn’t a guarantee anyway. 

“I understand what you’re saying, sir,” Hakim said. “However … I’m not sure that is the best path going forward. The people are going to be made aware that you had this relationship during your marriage, which will have the spotlight and attention on you and the monarchy. You should be strategic about this and use the details — the facts — to your advantage. I understand you don’t want to throw anyone under the bus, but I believe it’s in your and the crown’s best interest to do so.” 

“We can’t act like you wouldn’t be in this predicament had you known from the beginning,” Landon added.  

Amara closed her eyes, feeling the Duke’s words like the slap they were intended as. 

“Even if I’d known, had I been made aware from the start … we still would have had to deal with the fallout of our relationship during my marriage to Madeleine.” Liam sighed. “I’m looking at it that way … I’m taking the fact I didn’t know out of the equation and using how we would have dealt with it back then now.” 

“I see where Liam is coming from,” Rashad said as he looked at the others. “To show that he’s focusing on the present, that his main concern is having a relationship with the Princess … it could just as easily keep the attention off of the scandal aspect of it all.” 

Liam nodded in stern agreement before looking to the other side of the table. “Daniel, this is your area of expertise. What do you think?” 

Daniel cleared his throat. “Honestly, I think it will mainly come down to how yours and Amara’s relationship will be portrayed and perceived by the Countess in front of the public.”

Liam glanced beside him. “Madeleine?” 

“Liam and I have spoken at length,” Madeleine said. “I told him that I don’t have any issue letting it be made known that I knew about their relationship.” 

Amara struggled to keep her expression neutral and her surprise at bay over Madeleine being willing to flat-out lie on her and Liam’s behalf. She didn’t know about their relationship, not until the day it was over, but she was willing to make the people believe that they had her blessing. 

“We openly stated during our divorce announcement that the marriage was nothing more than an arrangement,” Madeleine continued. “So I don’t think it would come as too much of a shock to the people to know that because of that arrangement, we both sought attention and affection outside of our marriage. And that’s something we can also play to our advantage … to get a little sympathy for the loveless marriage we were forced into due to archaic traditions. Not to mention, this news will probably have people questioning whether Amara’s return to Cordonia with the child was a reason for our divorce because of the timing. Showing my support and understanding in the matter would certainly help to deter those assumptions.”

“If that’s how it’s going to be handled, I don’t see why we couldn’t do it the way Liam wishes,” Daniel said. “Having him focusing on the present and the future could shift the attention away from the affair if we zero in on the positives, which are that Liam is thrilled to be a father and that Cordonia has their long-awaited heir to the throne. However, it’s still a risk. There’s a chance that it doesn’t go the way you’re hoping and you and the monarchy could still take the brunt of the criticism and backlash.”

“Ms. Onasis.” Everyone’s eyes shifted to her, including Liam’s, when Bertrand said her name; she let out a quiet breath. “What do you think?” 

Amara swallowed thickly, blinking away the sting in her eyes; she wasn’t even sure why she felt so emotional at that moment. She cast her gaze downward. “I just want what’s best for Sophia and Liam,” she said quietly. 

Liam stared at Amara for a moment before looking at Daniel again. “I understand that it’s a risk … but it’s one I’m willing to take.” 

****

An hour later, after more discussions on how to construct the announcement the way Liam wanted, the council decided to pause with plans to reconvene over the next several days while they waited to hear from Amalas. 

As everyone began to file out of the room after bidding their goodbyes to their King, Liam watched Amara at the end of the table, where she stood talking to Daniel. He’d been surprised at how quiet she had been during the meeting. This was her area of expertise as well, with more experience and success than Daniel, so he’d been certain she would have tried to take control of the reins of the discussion, but she hadn’t. She offered no opinions or suggestions; her only spoken words were that all she wanted was what was best for him and Sophia. 

Liam started for the door at the same moment Amara did. She didn’t look at him and he kept his gaze leveled above the top of her head as he followed her out the door. They both turned, going in separate directions down the corridor without a word or glance back at each other. 

*******

Over the next few days, Liam and Amara had been in closed-door meetings with the council and Daniel, sometimes more than once a day. 

The pair had yet to speak. 

During the discussions, Amara would answer questions only when asked, and Liam did much more talking than she did, but their words were never directed specifically at one another. And at the end of every meeting, they always seemed to be the last two to leave the chambers, but they’d go their separate ways at the door, still not sparing a word. 

Amara wanted to talk to Liam, but she didn’t know how to even approach him. She was certain he despised her under that stoic facade he was wearing in front of his council, and she still worried about upsetting him should she even try to speak to him. She was struggling with the silence and all of the things she wanted to say, which among a hundred more apologies included wanting to tell him that she wasn’t sure his approach on the announcement was the best.

During the meetings, Amara remained quiet about her thoughts on Liam’s plan, but she silently hoped he would realize that he needed to prioritize himself and Sophia. The subject was brought up a couple more times by other council members who still felt he should reconsider, but Liam remained resolute in his choice not to point the finger where it would be easiest: at her. 

After the end of a particularly heated meeting, Liam let out a breath as he leaned back in his seat while the others stood from theirs and began to leave. They discussed how exactly they should deal with Auvernal in the announcement since speculation and questions had begun to float through the media regarding an alliance; those talks flared the tempers of some of his council members who wanted Bradshaw to be held accountable for what he’d done. Liam promised them that he was already looking into it, and as soon as he had more information to share with them, he would. 

Liam looked across the table at Amara, who seemed to have the same idea he did about waiting for the others to clear the doorway before attempting to make her escape. The last couple of days, he found himself watching her more often during the meetings, studying her. He couldn’t help but notice how she hadn’t seemed herself; she was a far cry from the opinionated and outspoken woman he knew her to be. She was quiet … too quiet. And she just looked … disheartened. 

And the last couple of days, at the end of each meeting, Liam thought about approaching her to talk … but then he’d think better of it before making his way in the opposite direction. He knew, however, that one of them needed to take that first step, and after their last conversation, he was pretty sure that person would have to be him; based on what he’d heard from Riley and what he’d seen for himself during these meetings, she wouldn’t be approaching him. 

Amara rose from her seat, and her eyes flickered up for a brief moment to catch Liam doing the same. Just talk to him, she told herself before she started for the door. You need to talk to him. When she stepped into the hall and turned, instead of making her usual beeline down the corridor toward the North Wing, she stopped, hesitating. She closed her eyes, trying to work up the courage to turn around and say something … anything. 

When Amara finally turned, expecting to see him halfway down the corridor by now, she froze when she saw Liam standing in front of her. 

Liam stared down at Amara, both of them standing there in awkward silence. Just say something, he urged himself. He parted his lips to speak … but then closed his mouth before he let out a quiet breath and turned, walking away. 

Amara didn’t call after him. Instead, she made her way down the opposite end of the corridor. 

*******

A few days later, inside his study during a late lunch break, Liam was on his hands and knees, chasing after Sophia as he pantomimed a bear. He rose up on his knees, lifting his arms high above him with a playful roar before he scooped her up and tickled her belly. 

“Dada!” Sophia squealed through giggles as she wriggled in his embrace, and he could feel his heart swell. 

When he gently set her feet back on the ground, Sophia toddled over to the table; she grabbed a piece of cut-up apple and shoved it into her mouth before grabbing another and outstretching her arm to him in an offering. 

Liam opened his mouth and she shoved it in. “Thank you,” he chuckled. 

“Riley said her favorite food is apples. She’s definitely Cordonian,” Drake quipped from his seat on the sofa. 

“She eats more apples than I do,” Liam chuckled. 

“That says a lot,” Drake snorted. 

Sophia moved around the table to Drake with a piece of apple for him; she raised her hand and he leaned forward, taking it. “Thanks, squirt,” he smiled. 

Just then, Liam’s laptop chimed with an incoming call; he got to his feet and hurried to his desk, and when he saw the name, his heart started to race. “Hey, I gotta take this. Can you take her back down to Amara for me?” 

“Sure,” Drake nodded. 

Liam quickly rushed over and scooped Sophia up, kissing her cheek and saying goodbye before passing her off to Drake. When they exited his study, he rushed back to his desk and answered the call. “Amalas,” he nodded in greeting. 

“I want you to repeat after me,” Amalas said with a subtle smirk. “The Queen of Monterisso is the greatest of all.” 

Hope flooded Liam’s entire body from her smug tone. “You got into the flash drive and found something?”

“I didn’t just find something, Liam. I struck gold,” Amalas grinned. 

“What is it?”

“I’m sending over what I found through a secure channel so you can see for yourself.” 

A moment later, Liam’s phone pinged with an alert. He grabbed it and opened up the documents Amalas had just sent, skimming over their contents. He froze on one particular section, and his eyes widened as he snapped his gaze back at the screen.

“That’s right,” Amalas grinned triumphantly. “Seems as though Bradshaw couldn’t keep it in his pants. The twins aren’t Isabella’s biological children, meaning—”

“They have no legitimate claim to the throne because they have no royal blood,” Liam breathed. 

“Rendering the alliance null and void.” 

“This is why they seized the medical reports before Reena could see them …” 

“Exactly. They didn’t want her to know the truth.”

Liam let out a breath, feeling his heart thump in his chest from the sheer relief he felt. He looked from his phone back to his laptop. “Amalas, I … I can’t thank you enough.” 

There was nothing but sheer gratitude in his voice. “You’re welcome,” Amalas nodded. “Now … there is the small matter of what I get for doing all of this for you …” Liam stiffened at her words, and she smiled. “I’m not going to ask for your Crown Jewels, Liam. Relax.” 

“What is it that you want?”

“All I want is for Cordonia and Monterisso to be allies. I want to know that if ever needed, you would have our back, and I would extend the same to you and your kingdom in return. I think I’ve more than proven my allegiance …”

Liam let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “You certainly have,” he smiled. “And Cordonia would be both lucky and honored to have Monterisso as an ally.”

Amalas smiled. “I won’t make you sign anything right away. I wouldn’t want you to have war flashbacks to what you just went through.” Liam snorted at her words. “We’ll consider it a vocal agreement for now until we can draw up some friendly terms we both agree upon, which I promise will not include a betrothal.” 

“Thank you, Amalas. Truly. I’m in your debt.” 

“I’ll let you go so you can get going on getting yourself out of that mess you’re in,” Amalas smiled. “I’ll be in touch.” 

When the screen went black, Liam let out another breath, pressing his palm to his chest as though it would help to slow his heartbeat. His mind flooded with everything that needed to be done. He checked his watch before he grabbed his desk phone and dialed a number. 

The voice greeted him on the other end. “We need to meet to finish the statement and make the calls to have the press meet tomorrow morning …” 

****

Amara walked around the corner from the entryway of the North Wing after Drake had brought Sophia back to her; as she set her down and watched her toddle toward her toys, she glanced up to see Daniel on the phone. He wore a look of surprise, nodding to himself as the person spoke on the other end.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Daniel said. “You’re welcome, sir.” 

When he ended the call, Amara furrowed her brows. “Everything ok?” 

“He did it.” Daniel looked at her with a grin. “Liam got the information he needed to get out of the alliance. He just called … he wants the statement made in the morning so he’s calling a last-minute meeting with the council.” 

Amara stared at him and her vision began to blur as tears filled her eyes. “He … he got Sophia out?” her voice cracked. 

“He did, Buttercup,” Daniel nodded with a grin. “She’s a free little bird.” Amara covered her face with her hand as a relieved sob escaped her; Daniel was there a moment later, wrapping her in a hug. “Now all you need to do is prepare yourself for the announcement. Are you ready for this? For it to all be out in the open?” 

Stepping back, Amara wiped her cheeks as she let out a shuddered breath. “I-I’m ready as I can be … but …” She trailed off.

“But what?”

Amara shook her head. “Daniel, you can’t give that statement … not the way Liam wants you to.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that it’s not right, the way he wants to do this,” Amara answered. 

Daniel’s brows furrowed before realization struck. “Tell me you’re not suggesting what I think you are …” 

Amara dropped his gaze as she nodded. “I am.” 

“Amara, no—”

“I’m not your client,” Amara interrupted, looking back at him. “He is.” 

*******

The following morning, after a brief and final meeting with the council and Liam to discuss last-minute details regarding the statement, Daniel met with Amara in the North Wing to talk with her about it. 

Imogen had already left to take Sophia to Liam since he had cleared his schedule for the day, something Amara was thankful for; it would give her time to decompress and think once the announcement was over. 

Daniel glanced over at her, wondering if she’d perhaps changed her mind. He took in a deep breath before slowly exhaling, finally breaking the silence. “You know what I have to do to make this work, right?”

“Yes,” Amara nodded, staring straight ahead.

“And you’re sure about this?”

Amara nodded again. “Yes.” 

“Buttercup …”

“I’m sure,” Amara reiterated. “This was my doing. When I said all I wanted was what was best for Sophia and Liam, I meant it.” 

Daniel shifted his body to face her. “But what if I can spin it, though? I can. And I can make it more of a—”

“This needs to happen first,” Amara interrupted, knowing where he was going with his question. “In order to control both the criticism and narrative … this is the only way. We can talk about what comes next afterward … if this works.”

Daniel sighed. “Well … I was taught by the best, so — I actually hate that I’m saying this — I’ll do everything that I can.” 

“You do whatever you need to do.” Amara finally looked at him. “You can’t go into this with any emotional attachment because I’m your friend. Don’t worry about me. Liam is your client. He is your priority.” 

“I know …” Daniel reluctantly nodded. 

“And you’re prepared for after?” Amara asked. 

Daniel scoffed. “As best as I can be. If he doesn’t kill me, I’ll consider it a win. And if he does … it’s been a pleasure knowing you.” 

“Thank you … for doing this.”

“Only you would thank someone for something like this,” Daniel shook his head as he rose from the sofa. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’ll come find you when it’s done …” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Amara said, looking up at him. “I think I’m going to need some time to myself. I’ll let you know …” 

Daniel nodded in understanding before he turned and started toward the door. When Amara heard it latch shut a moment later, she closed her eyes, feeling her heart drop into the pit of her stomach as she sank deeper into the cushions of the sofa. 

****

After sending Imogen to his quarters with Sophia, Liam, Drake, and Riley sat inside his study. On the television was the image of an empty podium as the news station waited for the exclusive statement from the palace. 

“You feeling alright?” Drake asked.

“As best I can be,” Liam nodded.

“Nervous?” Riley questioned.

Liam hesitated for a moment. “A little …” 

“It’s going to be fine,” Drake assured him. “They’ll be surprised, sure. But I don’t think it’ll be that bad.” 

Riley saw Liam give her a questioning look; she had experience in this area just like Amara and Daniel. “Truthfully, I think it could go either way,” she said. “But I agree with Drake. I don’t think it’s going to be all that bad.” 

Liam nodded before glancing at his watch; with only a few minutes to go before Daniel would be at the podium, he had a call to make. “Let’s get this over with.” He walked to his desk and grabbed the phone, dialing the number. 

“King Liam,” Bradshaw greeted on the other end of the line. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“We can skip the pleasantries, Bradshaw,” Liam bit back. “Plus, I think this call will be anything but a pleasure for you.” 

“And why is that?”

“I’ll just get straight to it. The alliance … it’s done. I’m out.” 

“Oh, Liam,” Bradshaw laughed wryly. “It’s too early for jokes.”

“I can assure you, I am in no way joking,” Liam replied. “You know, I thought the way you tried to blackmail me was bad enough, but come to find out, the alliance and betrothal you proposed was never even valid or legal.”

“What are you on about?”

“The twins,” Liam hissed. “I know they’re not Isabella’s children and therefore have no legitimate claim to the Auvernese throne.” Silence filled the other end and a smirk tugged at the corner of Liam’s lips. “What’s wrong, Bradshaw? Cat got your tongue?” 

“How did you—”

“It’s not important how I found out. What’s important is that I know and I have the proof. So, as I said, this alliance is done.” 

“If you so much as utter a word of this to anyone, I will make it my life’s mission to destroy you and Amara with your little secret.”

“You might want to turn on the news, Bradshaw.” 

Liam could hear him rummaging on the other end through grumbles at the same moment he looked up at his television screen; Daniel had just appeared behind the podium, and he lifted the remote, turning up the volume.

“Good afternoon. On behalf of King Liam, I’d like to thank you all for coming this morning. I’m going to get right to it because there’s a lot to cover and I’m sure there will be questions to answer afterward. There has been speculation circulating regarding an alliance between Cordonia and Auvernal. I’m here to tell you that there is no such truth to those statements. 

With that said, it’s important for you to know that the King and Queen of Auvernal tried to stoop to a despicable level of intimidation in hopes of seeing that alliance through. They tried to blackmail His Majesty by threatening to out a romantic relationship he was involved in two years ago with his then public relations specialist and press liaison, Amara Onasis. Auvernal tried to use that against King Liam in order to secure the alliance they wanted …” 

Upon hearing the gasps and murmurs among the crowd, Liam lowered the volume as he turned his attention back to his call with Bradshaw while Daniel continued with his statement, explaining how Bradshaw brought Amara in to work for him as an unknowing participant of what that work was truly for and about the parentage of the twins.

“As I said, consider this alliance severed,” Liam said. “And by the way, I’ve been in contact with an old friend of yours, and they wanted to send you a little gift.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bradshaw seethed.

Just then, Liam could hear a knock on a door in the background of the call. When the door burst open, Bradshaw began yelling, but his shouts were interrupted  when Interpol announced themselves. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Bradshaw barked.

“Queen Reena sends her regards,” Liam said in a smug tone. 

Liam could hear ruffling on the other end and Bradshaw’s shouts as Interpol agents closed in on him, taking both him and Isabella into custody for their illegal siege of Rivala. He ended the call before he, Drake, and Riley turned their attention back to the screen as he raised the volume once again. 

“The stakes of getting out of the alliance he was being forced into, one that included an eventual betrothal between heirs, was even higher than most knew because a month ago … King Liam found out that from his relationship with Ms. Onasis two years ago … he had a child …” 

“Here we go …” Riley whispered under her breath as more gasps were heard and the shocked faces of those in attendance were shown on a split screen.

“This past month, His Majesty has spent time with his daughter, Crown Princess Sophia, getting to know her and building a relationship with her …” When Daniel trailed off, Liam furrowed his brows at the flicker of hesitation that he saw cross his expression before he let out a breath and continued speaking. “It was a relationship he was robbed of having by Ms. Onasis herself, who purposely kept her pregnancy and birth of their daughter a secret from him …” 

Riley and Drake stared at the screen slack-jawed as more murmurs whipped through the crowd on the screen. Liam was wide-eyed. What the hell is he doing?

Daniel continued to throw Amara under the bus, easily painting her as a villain by stretching and twisting some of the truth. He said she chose to leave Cordonia after the relationship with Liam had ended, that she had gone out of her way to keep the truth about Sophia hidden from him, showed no intention of telling him, and how her actions forced Liam to miss out on more than a year of his child’s life until she was left with no choice but to come clean after being caught trying to leave again.

Liam ran his hands through his hair, clasping them together at the back of his head as he stared at the screen in stunned and angered silence. 

When Daniel finished, the hands of dozens of reporters shot into the air as people clamored to ask the questions they had. 

“What just happened?” Drake asked as he and Riley turned to look at him. “I thought you didn’t want any fingers pointed?”

“I didn’t!” Liam shouted. “I don’t know what the fuck that was but it certainly wasn’t what was discussed at all!” He let out a shuddered breath. “This is unbelievable!” 

Riley turned her attention back to the television, watching Daniel flawlessly answer the questions he was asked. And she noticed that none of the questions were about Liam and his affair; most were about Amara, her betrayal to their King, and how he was feeling regarding it. He did it on purpose, she thought to herself as it suddenly clicked. “She told him to do it,” Riley said just above a whisper, but neither Drake nor Liam heard her over their own conversation. 

“Ok, just calm down,” Drake said. “I can’t … for the life of me understand why he’d throw her under the bus like that, but I’m sure he’s got a reason.”

“I’m about to find out,” Liam growled, looking at the screen, watching Daniel ask for privacy for both Liam and Sophia for the time being before he turned away from the podium and headed back inside. 

Liam flung the door to his study open so hard it bounced off its hinges as he stormed into the hall. Riley and Drake shared a look before they followed him. 

Daniel stepped inside the foyer just as Liam reached the top of the grand staircase; he glanced up, seeing his narrowed gaze boring into him as he flew down the stairs. “What the hell was that?” he barked.

“Liam—”

“That was not what we discussed, Daniel! Not to mention, you completely stretched the truth out there!” 

“I did what needed to be done.”

“You threw her under the bus!” Liam shouted. “Hell, you might as well have been fucking driving it! Why would you do that to her? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Despite Liam’s flaring temper, Daniel remained calm, having prepared himself for this reaction. “I did what she asked me to do.” 

Caught off guard, Liam took a step back. “What?” 

“She knew it was the only way for you and Sophia to come out of this as unscrutinized as possible … to take the focus off of you and the affair and make it about her … to make her the villain. Everything I said up there … she told me to say.”

No, Daniel hadn’t been at all thrilled with Amara’s suggestion or what she asked him to do, but she was right in her reasons why. Throughout their conversations about it yesterday and that morning, however, she never told him that he had to keep quiet about why he did what he did.

Liam let out a breath. “She … why? Why the hell would she do that?”

“Because she loves Sophia,” Daniel replied. “And despite what you may think or how you feel, she loves you …” 

“I … I don’t understand,” Liam shook his head. 

“She’s a fixer, Liam,” Daniel said. “This is what she does. She’s someone who thinks everything is salvageable … everything except herself in this particular situation. So she made the choice to stick her neck out and sacrifice her reputation in hopes that it was enough to save yours.”

Liam ran his trembling hand down his face as what Amara had done and why she had done it sank in. 

****

Late that afternoon, Amara sat with her knees curled to her chest on the sofa in the North Wing. It had been hours since the announcement was made and she hadn’t moved from her place in the living area. She had turned off the television once Daniel started to delve into the details of her betrayal; she didn’t want to see or hear how the press and people reacted. 

Amara had been sitting in silence ever since, emotional as she mulled over everything in her head. She was hopeful that she’d gotten what she wanted out of it: for most — if not all — of the negative attention to be off of Liam and in turn, Sophia. If the press and the people needed someone to be their villain, she was more than willing if it meant that they left Liam and Sophia alone. They could lift them up and tear her down; it was the least she deserved. 

Lifting her hand, Amara wiped her cheeks with the cuff of her sweatshirt; she sniffled as more tears started to fall. Knowing she’d more than likely be emotional was the reason she asked Daniel to give her time after the statement. She could feel it cresting that morning and knew she was going to need to be alone; everything from the past month had seemed to catch up with her all at once. She was already overwhelmed, sinking into a state of despondency and teetering along the edge. The statement had been her tipping point. 

When she heard knocking on the door of the North Wing, Amara’s gaze slowly slid toward the entryway; she didn’t move. She assumed it was Daniel, Riley, or both, but she wasn’t up for talking or company at that moment and knew they’d leave after she didn’t answer. 

A few moments later, more knocking came.  

Sitting up and letting out a breath, Amara wiped her cheeks again as she stood from the sofa. As she moved toward the entryway, another knock came. She rounded the corner and reached for the knob, prepared to tell Daniel or Riley or both that she was fine and still needed and wanted time to herself. 

Amara opened the door and she froze when she saw Liam standing on the other side. 

***************************************

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[txemrn]

Pour Two Glasses

Chapter 6: "...Everything's Turned Upside Down"

Need to catch up? Masterlist

✨ Have you checked out this teaser video yet? Pour Two Glasses Teaser✨

Word Count: 6150 (+/-)

Series Synopsis: In the midst of a violent political war, Queen Riley Rys’s life is dismantled overnight, forcing her to flee Cordonia to live in hiding as a commoner with a loyal, best friend

Series Song Inspo: “Pour Two Glasses” by the Movielife

Chapter Song Inspo: "Broken Pieces Shine" by Evanescence

Series Warnings: 🔞 For Mature Audiences Only 🔞 angst; profanity; major character death; grief and mental health discussion; discussion of violence & war; alcohol use; NSFW material

A/N: I don't say this enough, so I hope it's okay I start this A/N with this message... to my beautiful readers: thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! I loved dreaming up this story, and knowing that y'all want more warms my heart! Thank you for all the messages, all the questions, and all of the encouragement! Please know I see each and every one of y'all, and I love y'all so dearly! Y'all are a huge part of P2G, and I can't thank you enough for being so kind! Sending out major hugs to each of y'all! 🖤

A/N 2: Characters and some plot references belong to our friends at Pixelberry. To my village, as always THANK YOU SO MUCH helping me bring this story to life! This was not beta'd, so please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

Riley spends most of her recovery time alone, secluded from the outside world. The stillness of the lonely mornings melt into the mundane hustle of the afternoons, and although time seems to pass before her eyes in a whirlwind blur, to the fallen queen, it trudges along slowly, creeping into her least favorite part of the day: the dark, listless nights.  

Due to the multiple terrorist threats made against the monarchy, not to mention the two bombs found during a routine sweep of the palace, the royal guard, the local police along with Interpol agreed the safest place for the queen of Cordonia was inside her hospital room despite being discharged days ago. 

Her physical therapist would visit on Mondays and Wednesdays while her doctors would visit Tuesdays and Fridays to ensure her recovery was on track. Healthcare workers were available upon request, but they would be accompanied by armed guards.

Drake, Olivia and Maxwell were given special clearance, and they kept to a round-the-clock schedule to ensure Riley was never alone.

That is, until she sent them away after the first week. Watching them grow ill with concern over her well-being added to her grief, and she hated being the reason for their stolen joy. Riley knew they meant well, and they never, ever complained for sitting by her side in complete silence.  Even Maxwell toned down his enthusiasm in his attempts to make her happy.  But Riley could see them slipping away into different versions of themselves, and the guilt festered in her heart.

Rarely sleeping and barely eating, Riley stopped taking her pain medications. She never would admit to her masochistic reasoning, but the physical discomfort served as a welcomed distraction from the agony she felt internally. She felt like she had little to no control over her life, but this, in a very sick, twisted way, this was hers.

It’s the following Friday, the small hours of the morning. Riley tosses and turns for another restless night of sleep as memories of only two weeks ago flash through her mind. Her husband’s funeral. The assassination attempt. Her own life unknowingly in the balances during a critical surgery.

With a subtle rumble in the distance, she opens an eye, and quickly notices the gathered rainclouds outside her lone, two-paned hospital window. Sitting up, she pulls on Liam’s sweatshirt before scooting the reclining chair in her room closer to the view of the angry sky.

The pelting raindrops and the howling wind put on quite the show, calming Riley's anxious heart. She used to love quiet moments with her late husband where they could share in the wonder of nature. As the storm continues to brew outside her room, her eyes grow heavy, the soothing sounds of the storm lulling her to sleep.

A sudden clap of lightning rips across the gray Cordonian sky, startling Riley awake.  She quickly sits up, her chest heaving as her eyes adjust to the darkness of her master bedroom. Feeling her pulse rapidly thrum in her ears, she reaches for her husband; but she is met with cold, barren sheets, tossed against her side.

“Liam?”  She sits on the side of the bed, slipping her house shoes on before standing to grab her robe. “Liam?” She cries out once more before the storm outside ignites the angry clouds with another crash of thunder. Gripping the fabric of her lapels in terror, she watches hypnotically as the countryside dims back into the darkness of night.

“Riley, my love.”  

Riley turns with a gasp.  Liam stands at the open French doors that lead to their balcony. The powerful winds flounce the curtains, billowing around his tall stature.

"I didn't mean to frighten you, darling." He takes Riley into his arms, laying her head intimately against his chest. "Did the storm wake you?"

At that moment, another crackle of thunder resounds, Riley instantly turning her attention to the open doors. Puddles gather around the terrace as sheets of rain pummel against the stone walls. Feeling her tremble in his arms, Liam tightens his embrace nuzzling his nose into his wife's dark locks.

"Mom used to point out how powerful the weather can be. Devastating homes. Sinking ships… and yet–" he takes a deep breath, "we're still here."

Riley loosens her grip. The cascades of heavenly water pour in a synchronized dance with the rumbles of thunder. The zephyr symphony lulls her into a trance as she marvels at the strength of the storm. Fierce. Intense.

And yet, we're still here.

"You'll survive this, too, my love–"

"Survive what–?" Riley looks up to her husband.

But he's gone; his arms no longer around her as his scent dissipates from the air they once shared.  But something strange is left hanging in her hands: a small, worn receiving blanket, the name 'William' embroidered in the corner. 

Huh?

Riley swivels anxiously around the room, her eyes wide as saucers. "Liam?" She cries out. "Please, baby," she looks in the other direction, but her husband is no where to be found. "Liam… I… I don't know…" her breath hitches, growing ragged as she finally slumps onto the ground. She looks at the blanket, her fingers tracing over the delicate stitching. "How, my love–?" She whispers under her sobs of helplessness. "How am I supposed to survive… without you?"

Suddenly, a bright light pours over her, the warmth of the sun shining on her porcelain skin.

“We’re not doing this anymore.”

Riley's eyes peek open, being met with beams of sunlight pouring through the window. She sees someone moving about the room, but her exhaustion refuses to allow her eyes to focus, and she quickly slumps back over.

"You need to get up, Riley."

Without warning, Riley’s blankets are abruptly pulled from her body. She sits up in her chair, rubbing her eyes. "Huh?"

"C'mon. Up, up!"

Finally coming to her senses, Riley zeroes in on the redhead bossing her around. And she scowls, relaxing back into her chair. "Olivia, I… come back later."

"No, ma'am." Olivia taps a lever on the recliner, shoving Riley into an upright position. "You are going to shower. I laid out some clothes for you," the duchess crosses her arms, "and you are going to rejoin the living."

"But–"

"Now," she claps her hands. "Scoot!"

Riley jumps up, grumbling under her breath as she moseys to the shower. Hearing the water turn on, Olivia smirks, playfully dusting off her hands. Satisfied with herself, she grabs a magazine and takes a seat, crossing her legs in victory.

After about twenty minutes, Riley emerges with a towel wrapped around her head along with a pair of jeans and a cotton tee.

"There. Happy, bossy britches?"

"Almost," Olivia offers a crooked smile. "Now that we've–eh–hosed you down, we need to work on getting that odor out of here. It smells like someone died in here–"

"Didn't they?" Refusing to make eye-contact, Riley remains stoic, down-trodden.  She moves the linens around on her bed before curling up with a pillow.

"No." Olivia stands up, sauntering to her friend's bed. "They didn't." She takes a seat on the edge of the mattress, Riley's back facing her. "You, my dear, are very much alive. And it's time you start living as such."

"Liv, I…" Riley sighs. "I just don't feel like going out and rejoining society right now."

"Who said anything about rejoining society?" She takes Riley's hand. "I said that it's time to start living like you're alive." Riley turns around, arching a curious brow at Olivia. "I'm not saying you need to stop grieving; but I am going to make you shower. And eat. And not waste away."

A stale stillness falls between the old friends as Riley pulls the covers over her body.  "I'm not in the mood," she mutters, sinking into her pillow.

Olivia lets out a heavy breath, standing up. She refuses to give up, unwilling to leave the queen's room. She leisurely paces around the space, folding and refolding her hands.  The resounding click-clack of her steps are hypnotic, almost soothing as she twists her crimson pout in deep thought. 

She understands that Riley is in mourning, and even though Olivia loved him, too, nothing would compare to the great loss of true love. But, still, she hates seeing Riley like this; they all do. But truth be told on matters of the heart, there is only one person that can get through to her.

"What would Liam say?"

Riley slowly turns, looking over her shoulder. "Excuse me?"

"Your husband," Olivia steps forward confidently, clasping her hands together.  "He died a hero, protecting our country, protecting me… and you. What would he say now if he saw you like this?"

Riley furrows her eyebrows, her hands balling into fists. How dare she. Was Olivia seriously trying to make Riley feel guilty for grieving her late husband? For grieving the life she was starting with him? For grieving the life she was supposed to have with him?

"Olivia, I–"

"You'll survive this, too," Olivia interrupts.

The irritated expression on Riley's face abruptly melts into pure shock.  Her eyes as Liam's words replay in her mind.

You'll survive this, too.

"I… I'm sorry, I …" she shakes her head in disbelief, "what did you say?"

"Ri," Olivia bounds to her side, grabbing Riley's hand endearingly in her hold. "You are one tough broad. You have proven that time and time again." Her lip begins to tremble, but she quickly stiffens her jaw. "Liam knew that. Hell, that's one of the reasons he fell in love with you." She sighs, her gaze bouncing back and forth in Riley's deep ocean eyes. "Losing Liam will be one of the most awful challenges you will ever have to face… but somehow wherever he is, I have to believe he is taking comfort that you are strong enough for this." She squeezes tightly on Riley’s fingers. "You'll survive this, too."

Riley stares at Olivia, processing what she was saying–especially the words that seemed to mirror Liam's. 

And they're right.  It feels like hell right now, and Riley can't even begin to fathom a life without her beloved… but he would want better for her.  He lived a life so that she could have better.

It was time to start living.

------

"You're cheating!" Maxwell hisses, pointing an accusing finger at Olivia.

"I am not, Beaumont," the Scarlet Duchess shuffles through the cards in her hands. "You're just not good at counting to twenty-one."

"You've won each time you've been the dealer." He throws down his cards. "Shenanigans!"

Hugging her stomach tightly, Riley can’t help but laugh uncontrollably, her sides already in stitches. “Stop!” She gasps for air as she continues to titter. “I–I can’t!”  She falls forward on her bed, her head hitting a pillow as her giggles fill the room.  Maxwell and Olivia join in on the laughter, giving each other a subtle nod of relief. She’s coming back to life.

The three friends have spent most of the morning together at the hospital, catching up and playing games. To her visitor’s surprise, Riley decided she wanted to take a walk around the hospital–to areas that had been cleared by the royal guard, of course.

Together, they meandered to the hospital’s private prayer garden on a terrace just outside the pediatric floor. The warmth of the sun on her skin and the fresh scent of the potted greenery exhilarated her senses.  The natural pink tone of her skin quickly returned to her cheeks, highlighting her genuinely bright smile as she scrunched her nose at the floral smells.

On the way back to her room, Riley walked by the newborn nursery.  Stopping at the large window that showcased several cooing babies, wrapped in pink and blue receiving blankets, she pressed her fingertips gently against the glass, admiring each one silently. Although tears gather in her eyes, she begins to quietly talk to each chubby face, fussing over how adorable they are.

“Oh, you’re going to be trouble, mister, with those dimples…”

“Look at those beautiful black curls!”

“I know your mommy and daddy must love you so much…”  

If only…

Finally making it back to her assigned floor, the friends were greeted by Riley’s primary physician and his assistant along with the best news ever: the palace passed its final security check.  All Riley needed now was clearance through Interpol and one more physical–per the request of the Royal Council to ensure her health–and she would soon be on her way back home.  

As the healthcare team exits, a sudden wave of surreality washes over the room. Going home. Riley hasn’t been home in almost three weeks, and even before that, she hasn’t slept in her own bed since the start of the Royal Wake. What would be waiting for her when she walked into her quarters?  Is everything waiting for her to come home exactly how she left it?  Exactly how he left it?

Biting her lip, she takes a moment of silence, her hand finding Liam’s rings on her necklace. She fiddles with his wedding band, the jewelry easily gliding onto her pointer finger.  And that’s when she feels it: the inscription inside the gold band. And her eyes flutter close. Pour Two Glasses. Everything would be expecting her return.

Except him.

Riley shakes her head, glancing back up at Maxwell and Olivia. Giving them an appreciative grin, she grabs the deck of cards on her bedside table, blinking away her tears. “Best two out of three?”

------

The three friends have been playing for a little over an hour when there’s an abrupt knock at the door.  A large smile grows across Riley’s face as the familiar smirk of her royal guard saunters into the room.

“There’s my hero,” Riley singsongs. From her bed, she extends her arms in the air, inviting Drake into a hug.  A blush swirls across his cheeks as he leans in, tucking her petite body under his chin.

“How are you feeling?” He whispers before gently letting her go.

“I’m okay,” Riley nods. “I’m gonna be okay.”  She pats the mattress next to her. “C’mon, partner,” she mimics a Texan accent. “Let’s teach these two how to play Texas Hold ‘Em.”  Olivia rolls her eyes as Maxwell titters, pretending to throw a lasso around Drake.

Drake chuckles, pushing a fist into his pocket as he stares at the ground. “I wish I could, but–”  he combs his fingers through his thick, chestnut hair as he gazes back up at his friends. “I got lucky and found a plane out of Munich at 5AM, so… I’m taking a train there. Tonight.”

“Oh my gosh,” Riley’s face etches with shock. “So soon?”

“When does the train leave?” Olivia’s eyebrows pinch together.

“In about–” he looks at his watch before snickering to himself. “About two hours.”  A stillness falls across the friends, sharing sad, concerned looks. “C’mon, you guys,” Drake attempts to lighten the mood. “We knew this day was coming… and I’m coming back.”

“When?” Maxwell questions softly.

“I guess… when Mom…” he gnaws on the inside of his mouth, searching for the right words. “When… everything is taken care of, I guess.”

Riley climbs out of bed, throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace. “Don’t forget where your home is, Walker,” she sniffles.

“Like you’d let me forget?” He chuckles. His large arms envelope her against his chest as he nuzzles his nose into her curls, breathing her in deeply. His voice grows husky as he rests his lips against her head. “I’m going to miss you, Brooks.”

Riley pulls back, resting her hand on his upper arm. “I’m going to miss you, too.” A coy smile teases on his lips as a twinkle of hope illuminates his cognac eyes–that is, until Riley continues. “You’ve always been such a great friend.  Liam sure hit the jackpot with you–” she turns to Maxwell and Olivia, “--with all of you.”

Drake nods agreeably, looking away from his best friend’s widow, chastising himself for having such fleeting thoughts of hope. He turns to Maxwell to give him a firm handshake before turning to Olivia. “Can I… talk to you? For a second?”  He whispers to the redhead before looking back at Riley and Maxwell. He holds his hand up, waving goodbye before exiting the room with Olivia right behind him.

Riley glances towards Maxwell, offering a sympathetic grin and shrugging her shoulders. Their group of friends is shrinking, but at least they have each other.

“He’s so obvious,” Maxwell giggles, winking at the queen as he takes a sip of a glass of water.

Riley scrunches her eyebrows. “Obvious? About what?”

Maxwell freezes, staring at Riley as an awkward silence floods between them. “Uh… Nevermind, honey–”

They both startle as Olivia bounds back into the room, slipping back into her seat. Without making eye-contact, she crosses her legs before grabbing her playing cards, mindlessly rearranging them in her hand. She's unusually quiet and pensive, her eyebrows slightly wrinkled as she appears to be deep in thought about something.

"Is… everything okay?" Riley asks.

She peers up to Riley nervously, but within moments, a crooked smile forms on her cherry red pout. "Yes… of course."  She glances back at her cards, but it's useless; there's too much she needs to say. "Ri, do you know what a black box is?"

"Like on a plane?" Maxwell clarifies with curiosity, folding his cards and resting them on the table.  Olivia nods slowly as her attention shifts back to Riley.

"It records sounds, right?" Riley starts, her tone cautiously meek. "Sounds from inside the plane? So in the event it… it… well, you know…"  Olivia softly bounces her head affirmatively, rolling her lips. "Did something happen?" Riley nervously titters, glancing at a confused Maxwell. "Was there something… something terrible on Liam’s recording?"

Olivia folds her cards, tapping the stack on the table. "No, it's just…" her words trail off as she remains lost in thought.

"Liv," Riley crosses her arms. "What are you trying to hide?" 

Olivia sighs. "My apologies. I guess I'm trying to process it myself. Apparently the guard had their weekly briefing last night with Interpol. Drake had to turn in some last minute paperwork for his leave, so he was in attendance." 

"What does this have to do with the black box?" Maxwell interjects.

"It's gone," Olivia blurts out. "It was never recovered from Liam's plane. So, there's a strong possibility that–"

"It was stolen," Riley interrupts.

"Precisely, meaning this was orchestrated by the coup somehow."

"Wait," Maxwell holds up his hands, "how did anyone know that was Liam's plane though? How would they know to specifically steal from that plane? Wasn't he supposed to be traveling incognito?"

Olivia nods, exhaling heavily. "They're launching an investigation… for possible espionage." 

"An inside job?" Riley croaks, a lump forming in her throat. "From Cordonia?"

"We don't know just yet," Olivia reassures, "that's why they're looking into it.  But I'm thinking they need some help… and I know just the person to ask."

Riley's room door suddenly slides open, surprising the group of friends.  The doctor slowly steps in with the queen's medical chart, a solemn, almost grim expression etched on his face.

"I'm not sure I like the worried look in your eyes, sir," Riley anxiously giggles. "Don't tell me I'm staying here longer."

"Oh," he cordially forces a grin. "Your security, as well as the international police have cleared everything–"

"So she gets to go home?" Maxwell's breath baits with hope and excitement.

"Yes, yes. You get to go home. The guard will be in touch with you soon."

"Oh, thank God," Olivia smirks.

"Finally!" Maxwell exclaims, standing to his feet and ready to pack.

But Riley stays silent, her attention fixed on her physician. She can tell he has more to say. She can sense a sadness in his demeanor, putting her on edge, not ready to celebrate her homecoming just yet.

"What aren't you telling me, doctor?" She asks softly. "Is it my physical? Am… am I okay?"

The older man sets down Riley's chart, resting his hand on top of it as his endearing eyes find hers. "We need to talk."

"Is it serious?" Olivia interjects.

With a heavy sigh, the physician turns towards Maxwell and Olivia. "How about you two give us just a minute alone–?"

"No," Riley stops him. "I need… Can I have someone…?" Riley looks between Olivia and Maxwell, having a silent conversation of who should stay.

"I'll step out," Maxwell grabs his phone. "Let me make sure the guard is bringing an SUV and not a sedan," he winks.

As the door closes, the older man cautiously sits down next to Riley, taking her hand. She squeezes it tightly, preparing herself for the news he was about to share with her. Was something wrong? Was she dying?

"Never in a million years did I think you and I would be having this conversation," he exhales, pinching the bridge between his eyes. "This… this is completely out of my scope of practice, so I will be referring you to a specialist, but–"

"Sir," Riley stops him. "Please… just… tell me the truth."

------

Riley paces back and forth, ringing her hands in between biting her nails.

“Will you sit down–?”

“And what, Olivia?” She tosses her hands in the air, allowing her arms to slap carelessly against her sides.  “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Well,” Olivia scoffs, “for starters, you are going to calm down–”

“Calm down?” Riley twirls around, a wave of fury crashing over her features. Her blood-shot eyes stare daggers into her red-headed friend.   “You heard the damn doctor. This… this can’t be happening.  And… you…”  she presses a hand to her chest, her breathing labors as a sob rips through her chest. “You actually expect me to be okay? With this?”

“Riley,” Olivia calls her name sternly, “take a moment. Things could–”

“--could be worse?” She finishes her words.  “How, Livvy?”  She covers her face with her hands as she wanders aimlessly in the room. “Oh God,” she whispers hoarsely, her voice hidden by her tears. “When this gets out–”

“It won’t.”

Riley tisks, mocking Olivia. “This won’t stay a secret for long. And when it gets out, an even bigger bullseye will be painted on my back. They hate the Rys name. They will attack again–”

“Other monarchs have gone through similar situations, and their health concerns have been kept under wraps.  The council will be sure of it–”

“The council?” Riley looks off, shaking her head. “They already want to get rid of me. You know the law. I can no longer serve as the reigning queen. I’m not Cordonian–-”

“You will always be a queen, Riley.  The council will support you–”

“--they’ll expedite getting rid of me.”  Riley collapses into the recliner in her room. She hangs her head in her arms as her elbows rest on her knees. “The council is looking out for what’s best for Cordonia, especially now that the throne has been attacked–not once, but twice. They’re searching for stability; they’re looking to rebuild their leadership, and that starts with the throne. I fear that… I fear that as long as there's still a Rys, Cordonia will never see peace.”

Olivia pulls her chair closer, laying a hand on Riley’s shoulder. “The war won't last forever. And this? This could be your ticket. The throne is the only thing left to protect you–”

 “These traitors want every part of the Rys name destroyed, and without Liam, my days on the throne are already numbered. When they find out…” she exhales a pained breath.  “Even If I could hide behind the council, the Combattants will return to finish the job. They know I’m still here. I’m on every goddamn news report!”

“Riley, you–”

“I can’t do this.” She abruptly stands up, rushing past Olivia as she grabs her suitcase.  She begins piling her belongings into the dividers. “I need to go–”

“Home,” Olivia interjects, placing her hands on Riley’s trembling hands. "Let's take you home where you're safe."

Riley shakes her head. “N–no, I need to go. I need to leave.” She grabs her phone. “I need a ticket back to the States–”

“Riley Rys. Slow. The fuck. Down. You’re not thinking–”

“I can’t be here another moment. I have to go. I need to hide–”

“Where? Where are you going to hide?” Olivia scoffs, folding her arms. “Even if you could, all air travel has been suspended to and from Cordonia until further notice.  That’s why poor Walker had to take a train.”

Riley stills. She glances over at her friend as an abrupt realization washes over her expression.

Drake.

“You.”

Olivia raises an eyebrow. “Me?”

“According to Cordonian law, you’re next in line if something were to happen to me–”

“Hold up,” Olivia raises her hands in surrender. “If, and that’s a big if, something were to happen to you, yes, I would be crowned. But, that’s not how this works. You’re still alive, therefore the council–”

“What if I was incapacitated?” 

Olivia lets out a condescending laugh. “You are being ridiculous, you know that?”

“No, I’m being serious.” Riley grips tightly to Olivia’s shoulders, forcing her to listen. “The council hasn’t stripped me of my title as reigning queen yet, and as long as I’m the reigning monarch, I can claim a medical leave-of-absence… which means–”

“You appoint the replacement during the hiatus," Olivia smirks sarcastically, pulling away from Riley's. "Not gonna happen."

"Olivia, please."

"And what are you going to do? Huh? You still need medical care. Hiding isn't exactly easy when you're the queen of an entire country–"

"But–"

"--that is grieving their king–"

"But–"

"--and their queen has been all over international news for surviving an assassination attempt." Riley huffs, rolling her eyes as Olivia continues. "You'll leave fingerprints everywhere you go. And I'm not saying they're going to try and track you down… but those bastards were able to find Liam. Running and hiding? It… it's pointless. Stay. Trust the council. We can protect you."

Riley chews on her lip, her attention locked on her friend. "No. That's not good enough. Not anymore." Her eyelids flutter as she takes a deep breath. "I think I've got an idea."

------

The rhythmic pulse of the train car lulls Drake into a hypnotic relaxed state, and before long, he succumbs to the exhaustion of the past six weeks. Resting his head against the window, he watches as the Cordonian countryside flashes before his vision until finally his eyes close. 

Furrowing his brows, however, he hears loud, indiscernible voices outside of his state room.  When the conversation finally ends, he readjusts himself in his chair, using his discarded denim shirt as a make-shift pillow.

His door abruptly slides open.

Fuck.

He grimaces, quickly turning to address his unwanted interruption.

But his face falls in shock.

"Brooks?"

"Hi," she smiles meekly, removing her oversized sunglasses and hat. "Can I… come in?"

"Yeah," Drake jumps up, removing his carry-on bags from the second seat. He gestures to the spot next to him. "Please."

Riley gingerly sits down, her eyes transfixed to the gorgeous scenery flashing by outside the large train window.  Drake slowly lowers himself into his chair, his disbelief frozen on his face as he stares at his good friend.

Feeling his gaze on her, Riley tears away from her reverie. She chuckles nervously, coyly shrugging her shoulders. "Surprised?"

The corner of Drake's mouth turns up. "That's one way to put it." He runs a hand through his thick, tousled hair as he notices her bandages peeking through her shirt. "I'm guessing you were given the 'all clear'? They discharged you?" 

Riley's attention averts back to the window, staring at the whirls of the evergreen hills melting with the watercolor sky. Her eyes begin to glaze over, forgetting to even blink as she mindlessly chews on her bottom lip.  She holds her hands in her lap, ringing them incessantly as she fidgets with her fingers. 

"Riley?"

She blinks quickly, her attention returning to Drake, his hand gripping onto her arm to steady her. “Hrmm?”

"I've been calling your name for a few minutes." His eyebrows knit with worry. "Are you… are you okay?"

Riley opens her mouth, but is unable to form words. She picks at her chipped manicure as she presses her tongue to her cheek.

"I, um… I need your help." She glances back up to Drake, her eyes wide in fear.

"O…Kay. Sure," he leans closer to her, resting his elbows on his knees. "Ri, what's going on?"

------

The clatter of heels reverberates through the main corridor of the ultra-modern, ultra-sleek estate of Monterisso.  Though she has not come across another soul, she knows plenty of eyes are hidden in nooks and crannies, watching her every move in the form of motion detectors and cameras. Coming to the pristine royal office, she gives a firm knock on the oversized, cherry wood door before inviting herself in.

"Olivia Nevrakis." A sultry voice calls from the large, tufted leather chair on the opposite side of the room.

The red head sardonically snickers before crossing her arms, popping her hip to the side. "Alright, Amalas," she sasses, "how did you know it was me?"

A beautiful woman with long espresso tresses and darkened, exotic features slowly turns her chair around to face her visitor.  She smirks at her long-time friend, extending her arm to show off her impressive display of monitors with live-feed surveillance to every entrance into the palace.

The Scarlet Duchess wriggles up her nose, rolling her eyes. "Of course."

"You know?" Amalas stands up, sauntering her curves slowly to her icy guest. "Most people address me as 'your majesty'--"

"Not today," Olivia bites, raising an eyebrow. 

Amalas sighs, leaning against the front-side of her desk. “What do you want, Livvy?”

"I have an important proposal for you."

“We don’t have an appointment.”

“I need your help.”

The Spy Queen steps forward, crossing her arms. "You? You are in need of some help?" She lets out a boisterous laugh as she sneaks closer to her unexpected guest. She motions with her pointer finger for Olivia to come closer to listen. "You know," she whispers, "you were supposed to call me the next morning."

With a deep rouge blossoming across her cheeks, Olivia steps back, scoffing into a chuckle. Amalas furrows her eyebrows with a mischievous smirk.

Checkmate.

Four months ago, after years of stolen glances and secret trysts, Amalas invited Olivia to her estate for a low-key, intimate weekend to discuss the possibilities of taking their relationship to the next level. And public. After one last night of passion, Amalas woke up to an empty bed with a note that said, 'I'll call. -Liv"

She never did.

Now with Olivia seeking a favor, Amalas is tickled. As far as good deeds, alliances and negotiations, she just made it abundantly clear that she has the upper-hand. And Olivia just realized she fucked up.

Satisfied with her visitor’s reaction, Amalas turns on her heel and walks back to her desk. "You can see yourself out."

The red head sneers into a sarcastic snicker, stepping forward. "Oh c'mon, Amalas–"

"If you didn't need me then," Amalas spins around, irritated. "You don't need me now, Nevrakis." She takes a seat before shuffling through some folders and papers. "Oh,” she looks up, void of emotion, “please shut the door when you leave. Thanks."

Olivia storms forward. "Amalas, this isn't about me–about us. This is for Cordonia and finding who was responsible for Liam's death–"

Amalas stops abruptly, a stack of papers held motionless in her hand. Swallowing thickly, she glances up at Olivia. "Liam's death… was an unfortunate result of this damn war."

"Yes, but he was a mediator."

Amalas raises an eyebrow. "Your point?"

Olivia puts her palms flat on the large, ornate wooden desk. "My point is that they always protect political mediators. Liam's location was always highly confidential. No one, and I mean no one knew his whereabouts."

Amalas stacks her document on her desk. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she leans back in her chair, resting her chin on her palm. "So?"

"That plane was obliterated, Ams. Someone hunted it down and destroyed every last piece of it.”

The queen smirks. “And did you know that Les Combattants de la Liberté are military-trained?”

“But–”

“Military-trained,” Amalas holds up a hand, her words louder.  “Taking out Liam’s aircraft like that?” She shakes her head slowly. “It’s not a huge feat for them. They are literally trained to take out any enemy in the blink of an eye.”

“Ams,” Olivia subtly wipes away a tear before clenching her jaw. “You’re not listening to me.”

Amalas sighs. "Look." She lowers her voice, her eyes finding Olivia’s piercing jades. “Liam was a friend of mine, too, babe.” She bites her lip, turning to a gold picture frame on the corner of her desk.  The photograph hosts a pair of young, bright smiles, she in her lacy white and him looking dapper than ever. A lump forms in Amalas’s throat as she begins to fidget with the gold band that remains on her left finger. “I know when something tragic happens to the ones we love, we want someone to pay for it, as if revenge will somehow heal our loneliness because the grief alone is too heavy–much too heavy for one person to bear–”

“The black box is missing,” Olivia interjects.

Amalas's face slowly falls into a suspicious confusion, her forehead wrinkling. “What?”

“The black box. You know? It’s supposed to record–”

Amalas holds up her hand, “Yeah, yeah, I know. What do you mean it’s missing?”

“I mean it’s never been recovered.”

Amalas’s jaw ticks as she stares at Olivia. Silence consumes the room, save for the ticking of the queen's watch, growing painfully louder by the second. But without warning, intrigue finally blooms across Amalas’s face, and her heart softens to hear Olivia’s request. Justice for Liam. Justice for Cordonia.

The black box is designed to withstand the blistering temperatures of a fire and the crushing impact of the engulfing pressures of the deep. The thought of such precious equipment, of actual recordings of the last moments of that cockpit, of King Liam… if they were actually removed with malicious intent, then Olivia is right. Classified information was leaked, Liam was specifically targeted, and this coup is a lot more dangerous and a lot more in control of this war than projected.

“Well, Ms. Nevrakis, I believe you have my attention.”  

Olivia smirks as she pulls up a chair.  

“Oh!” Amalas stands up from her desk, “I’m sorry. Just… not right now.” She looks at her watch.  “I actually have a very important meeting right now.”

Olivia scoffs. “With who?”

“Oddly enough, I have an important meeting with the Queen of Cordonia.”

A Cheshire grin crawls across Olivia’s face as she opens up her arms as if to present herself as a gift. “Well, oddly enough, the Queen of Cordonia is already in your presence.”  Shock consumes Amalas as her jaw drops open, Olivia snickering under her breath. “You can address me as ‘your majesty,’ Queen Amalas.”

------

"I–I don't know… how to say this," Riley stammers, anxiously pulling at her necklace that held her late husband's rings. 

Drake keeps his gaze locked on her, a pit growing in his stomach. They had said their goodbyes less than three hours ago; what could possibly have changed?

Was it a threat? Was her life being threatened again by the Combattants? No way. This wouldn't warrant the queen of Cordonia herself to board a train in hopes to catch her former royal guard to deliver such a message. Drake would probably get a phone call about it, but as of yesterday, he was relieved from his duties until further notice.

So… what was it?

“Riley?” His voice is gruff, but sincere. Their gazes meet, a vacant sadness in her eyes as she searches his for… something. Strength? Hope? Understanding?

Drake stops her from fidgeting with her jewelry, taking her petite hand into his own large, calloused palm. "It's… it's okay. We don't have to talk about this right now if you don't want to, but I–"

"Drake, I–" Her eyelashes flutter closed as tears course down her pink stained skin. "--I'm so sorry, I–"

"Hey," he hums softly, "shhhh, it's okay." He pulls her closer to his side, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. He gently rubs a thumb over her skin to gently dry her cheeks. "Listen," his voice remains low, soothing. "You have nothing to be sorry about. It's been," he sighs, "a rough couple of months, and… well, no matter what, Brooks, you know I'm here for–"

“I’m pregnant.”

~🖤~

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

~🖤~

Tags (please let me know if you wish to be added/removed)

PERMA

@alj4890 @ao719 @charlotteg234 @issabees @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nikirennie87 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

ALL TRR

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POUR TWO GLASSES

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[sincerelyella]

Accidental NYE Kiss Chapter 4 - Stormy Weather

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairings: Liam x Ella; Leo x Ella

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Ella Brooks belongs to me

Song inspiration: Stormy Weather by Etta James

A/N: This is the continuation of my little drabble from NYE that @bbrandy2002 requested where Ella drunkenly kisses Leo…eeeeep!

Catch up here if you haven’t read it.

Warnings: Adult language; maybe some angst

Words: 918

“Ask him.”

Everyone looks to Liam, whose breath was still heaving from the fight that ensued a few moments earlier. Liam glared at Leo, then his eyes moved to Ella, and his expression hardened. He pulled his arms away from Bastien and cleared his throat. “Take Prince Leo to his quarters and keep him there until I’m ready to speak with him,” he commanded.

The guards bowed and pushed Leo towards the study door. “What the fuck, Liam?!” He shouted over his shoulder as he was led out.

Bastien looked at his King. “Sir, you’re going to have bruises,” he gestured to his face.

“I’ll be fine, Bastien. Will you give Lady Ella and I a moment alone please?”

Bastien bowed and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Ella took a few steps toward Liam and reached up to his face. He turned his head away from her and stepped back.

“Liam?” Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What’s going on? Why were you fighting with your brother?”

Liam had his back to her, facing the bar cart as he poured himself a glass of scotch. He took a large sip and welcomed the burn as it went down.

“You kissed Leo last night,” he snapped.

Ella’s head tilted to the side, her brows still furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

Liam finally turned around to face her. “Is this some kind of sick joke? Are you lying to me? Or do you really not remember?” He set his scotch down on his desk and ran his hand down his face, wincing when he ran over a tender spot from where he was punched.

“You need some ice, Liam.”

She moved to the door to go grab some. “Stop!” Ella froze and slowly turned to face him.

“What is going on with you?”

“Me?! You kissed my brother! And you’re telling me you don’t remember?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Liam!”

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, Liam yelled for them to come in, his eyes still locked with Ella’s.

“Hey guys!” Maxwell and Drake walked into the study and took in the scene.

“Can’t you guys clean up the room after you fuck?” Drake laughed, then looked up and stopped immediately when he took in Liam’s face. “Holy shit, Li! What happened?”

Maxwell whipped his shocked face over to Ella. “D-did you do this Ella?”

“What? No, Max! I walked in and him and Leo were punching each other in the face!”

“Is this about last night?” Drake eyed Liam warily.

“You saw them and didn’t tell me?” Liam felt his anger start to rise again.

“No! Li, listen,” Drake held his hands up and took a step towards his best friend. “Ella was wasted. Hell, she was beyond wasted last night. She couldn’t even stand, I had to carry her ass home and she was talking gibberish,” he turned to look at Ella. “You’re a fucking hot mess, Brooks.” Ella just glared at him.

Drake turned back around to face Liam. “Beaumont and I walked towards them and it looked like Leo was trying to hold her up, she couldn’t sit up straight.”

Liam grabbed his scotch and drank another large sip, swallowing it down with a grimace. “Go on,” he gestured towards Drake to continue.

“So … yes, Leo kissed Ella, but he had no idea who she was, Liam.”

“By the looks of it, she doesn’t remember anything we’re talking about, right?” Maxwell looked at Ella.

She shook her head, then looked at Liam, eyes now full of tears. “I ... I don’t remember. I was … really upset you weren’t here for New Years Eve. I … lost count of how many drinks I had …” she trailed off, looking at Liam, but his stoic expression didn’t change.

“Lady Ella, I’ll have the staff remove your things from my quarters. As of right now, we are no longer engaged.” He stared at her surprised face, the tears that filled her eyes now fell down her cheeks. “Please excuse me,” he said tersely and walked out of the study with his scotch in hand and slammed the door shut behind him.

Everyone in the room was frozen, there was no sound except for Ella as she gasped for air as the tears spilled down her face and neck. Max and Drake looked at her and watched as she crumpled to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Maxwell crouched down next to her, holding her head on his shoulder as she hung onto him for dear life. He stroked her hair out of her face and tried to console her. “Little Blossom … he’s just upset. Let him calm down okay?” His words did nothing, she continued to sob, staining his shirt with her tears. Max looked up at Drake with wide eyes.

“Come on, Brooks,” Drake knelt down, placed one arm under her knees and the other at her shoulders and lifted her up. ”Just lie down here. He’s upset, but let me talk to him, alright?” He set her down on the large leather sofa in the corner of the study, turned and grabbed the tissue box from the bookshelf and handed it to her. “Beaumont will stay here with you, I’ll be back.” Ella had covered her eyes with a tissue as she cried, but nodded.

Drake stood and turned to look at Maxwell. “Let’s see what the fuck is going on in that head of his,” he walked out of the study and headed to Liam’s quarters.

[tessa-liam]

...Marabelle Series

Crown Prince Liam Rys & Lady Sophia Taylor

Six Sentence Sunday

...future chapter

...Liam's heart was racing as he leaned in, his lips a fraction of an inch away from hers. But suddenly, he felt Sophie's hand pushing him back, her expression sad.

"I can't do this," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Liam froze. "Why not?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Because we can't be together, Liam," she replied, her voice cracking with emotion.

"What are you ... but why not?" he persisted, his heart sinking.

"Because you will be king, and I ... I am just a commoner." Sophie covered her now tearful face, as she broke down in despair.

"I don't belong here..."

Marabelle Series Masterlist

❣️art commission by @/artbyainna❣️

📌taglist in notes

👑Whatcha working on?! @ao719 @ladylamrian @kristinamae093 @jerzwriter @karahalloway

[angelasscribbles]

Follower Appreciation Post

Okay, first of all.....

I just want to take a moment to say how much I appreciate all my followers and all the friendships I've made here.

And to show my appreciation, I'm going to open my asks for a little drabble event. Here are the parameters:

You can ask me to write anything you want. So yes, @twinkleallnight, this means you can ask for Drake x Olivia 😆

I reserve the right to refuse to fulfill any request for any reason (I can't imagine a situation where this would happen, but I'm covering my bases)

I will endeavor to keep my responses to 500 words or less.

I will accept requests for this challenge through the end of next week. So March 22nd, 2024.

Requests can be for fics, or they can just be questions about any of my existing characters/pairings. In addition to the series on my primary master list, feel free to send asks for Cordonian Royal Airlines or Law's End.

Requests do not have to be TRR though that is the primary fandom I write for.

Just FYI, I likely will not start on these until April.

Choices fandoms I will take requests for:

The Royal Romance

Ride or Die

Bloodbound

Queen B

Open Heart

Romance Club fandoms I will take requests for:

Heaven's Secret

Vying for Versailles

On Thin Ice

Tagging everyone on my "everything" master list under the cut.

@karahalloway, @harleybeaumont @alj4890 @aussiegurl1234 @nestledonthaveone

@walkerdrakewalker @kingliam2019 @bascmve01 @twinkleallnight

@lovingchoices14  @tinkie1973

@secretaryunpaid  @irishgrl2022

@kristinamae093 @tessa-liam

@gabesmommie1130 @queenmiarys

@differenttyphoonwerewolf  @jared2612  @belencha77

@dcbbw  @amandablink @indiacater

@bebepac @twinkle-320 @mattiematt1234

@queen-arabella-of-cordonia

@emersyn-in-cordonia @lunaseasblog  

@hollygirl1269 @mainstreetreader

@ladyangel70 @ohmyeightpastlives  @gardeningourmet

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[karahalloway]

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 16 - Snakes in the Garden

Fandom: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Harper greets the world as the new Duchess of Valtoria, but that is not the only newsworthy item that rocks the Apple Harvest Festival...

Word Count: 7,300

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, angst, possible ulterior motives)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: Things are slowly coming to a head! Thanks for bearing with me on this series - I know I have a lot of other projects in the works, so I have not been updating as much as I probably should. But, we are finally getting to the exciting parts (as if what's happened until now hasn't been exciting 🤣) as after this chapter, we are into the meat of the engagement tour, and all the juicy plot changes that I have been wanting to write for over a year will finally come to a fore! *evil laugh*

A/N2: If you have not heard of TURN - the TV show from which I borrowed the chapter theme song - then, I can highly recommend it (especially if you like historical dramas, US history (specifically the Revolutionary War period), or just really good story-telling)!

A/N3: This is also much submission for @choicesjanuary2024 Day 12: Smiles / Secret

Chapter 16 - Snakes in the Garden

"Are you sure I look okay?" I ask, nervously pulling at the high-necked strip of emerald lace that circles my throat.

"Stop fiddling!" Bertrand berates, slapping my hand away. "We are running late as it, and we cannot afford to lose any more time to last minute touch-ups!"

"Yeah, but—"

"You look great, Harper," Maxwell assures me with a beaming smile. "Marcie did a great job."

The petite make-up artist that the Beaumonts had procured out of thin air bobs a curtsy to my right. "It was my pleasure, Your Grace."

Her words hit me like a whiplash.

Your Grace.

My new form of address. One I'm not sure I'm ever going to get used to. Lady Harper had been one thing, but that had always felt like a curtesy. A temporary formality that had been extended to me by virtue of my sponsorship by the Beaumonts during the social season.

But there is nothing temporary about my current situation. The weight of the ring on my hand — and its implications — bears down heavily on my finger... and my thoughts. Especially since I still haven't found a moment alone with Drake to finish our conversation from this morning... or bring him up to speed on my new status.

Because no sooner had my ennoblement been sealed with the very expensive — and very potent — champagne, than the Beaumonts had shown back up (somewhat mercifully) to crash Christian's surprise party.

And from there it had been a whirlwind of hair, makeup and outfitting for the all-important Apple Harvest Festival where I am due to make my grand debut as the new Duchess of Valtoria.

A position of some importance — Bertrand has stressed, multiple times — given that in addition to the impressive estate that I am now the official caretaker of, I also have a seat on the infamous Council, as well as a seat on the even more exclusive Privy Council. Not to mention my own fleet of staff, vehicles, bank accounts, and carefully curated online profiles.

Which is why — on top of everything — the ever-industrious press corps have worked at record speed to throw the fruits of yesterday's labours together into an exclusive, twelve-page spread as part of a special edition of Trend magazine, which dropped this morning.

And while I haven't actually had a chance to read through the copy that currently sits on the coffee table of my room (together with every other major national and international news publication), Maxwell has assured me that the social media reactions have — so far — been positive. The snaps of my stress-fuelled efforts at yesterday's apple pick have apparently helped.

Which means that Jonathan's PR gamble is starting to pay dividends, and I now have a public image to maintain. Not just for myself, but for Cordonia as well. Because when I step outside today, I'll be representing everything that the kingdom under Christian's burgeoning rule is striving to be — beauty, modernity, opportunity.

Definitely not the best day to wake up with a litany of awkwardly situated bruises!

Thankfully, both Maxwell and Bertrand seem to have had a chance to pull themselves together after this morning's surprising (and definitely explosive!) turn of events, and — after the initial shock — have set about covering for mine and Drake's mess with the same coordinated precision that they employed to pull the Beaumont Bash out of their butts.

With the result that they somehow managed to transform me from the black and blue disaster I woke up as, into the picture of a polished and refined lady.

I glance apprehensively out at the bright sunshine blanketing the hills. Hopefully, the carefully applied window-dressing survives the literal trial by fire it's about to be subjected to. Because just like yesterday, the temperature is set to climb into the mid-90's today as well, which means I'll most likely end up sweating buckets again, thanks to the Edwardian nature of my dress's neckline.

And what I definitely don't need today is for all the blush and cover-up getting smudged away so that everyone at the event can start speculating about the intimate placement of my of hickeys!

I close my eyes wearily. God, I can't wait for all this to be over...

"No catnaps!" snaps Bertrand, slapping a wide-brimmed hat onto my head. "The people are waiting on us!"

I barely have time to grab my matching clutch before the Beaumonts are whisking me out of my room and down the length of the corridor towards the manor's lawn.

"Surely the Festival can start without us...!" I gasp as I stumble after Bertrand in my heels.

"No, it cannot," he reprimands. "All members of the Council must be present for the ceremonial tree planting."

I frown. "Tree planting? Isn't that a little... agrarian for the aristos?"

"It is a time-honoured tradition!" corrects Bertrand. "Cordonia owes its existence and livelihood to the noble Ruby, so it is the duty of the Council to ensure that the fruits of our bounty are secured for future generations! Hence, the requirement to plant new saplings at the end of each harvest!"

"If you say so..." I concede as we pass through the back doors of the manor.

Based on what I saw at the apple pick, Bertrand's pronouncement seems optimistic at best, given that none of the aristos even bothered to lift a finger to a tree yesterday.

But, looks can always be deceiving, so maybe today is the day that the I am pleasantly surprised for once.

A deafening cheer erupts as the Beaumonts and I step out onto the manor's steps.

Snapping my head towards the source of the commotion, I see what appears to be thousands of people crammed behind velvet-lined cordons, screaming and jostling for position like they're in the front row of a Taylor Swift concert...

...and it takes me a second to realise that it's my name that they're shouting.

"Duchess!"

"Lady Harper, we love you!"

"You're the true Apple Queen, no matter what anyone says!"

"Wow..." I blink, taken aback by the fervency of the crowd's reaction. "I didn't realise I had such a rabid following..."

"Best wave to them," suggests Maxwell, leaning in as he raises his arm into the air with a wide smile.

"Okay..." I concede hesitantly, turning to the crowd to do the same.

The last time I experienced anything remotely like this had been on the red carpet at the Derby — my first public outing as a suitor. But even the bright flash of the cameras and the intrusive questions that the reporters had flung at me paled in comparison to the reaction I am receiving today.

Phones and cameras are thrust into the air as the Beaumonts and I descend the manor's stairs to the accompaniment of the increasingly frenzied cheers and shouts of encouragement. Even a few bouquets of flowers fly through the air, narrowly missing my hat.

And I can't help but smile in the face of the genuine outpouring of support from the crowd. Because it sure as heck feels good to be on top for once!

However, arriving at the edge of the orchard where the tree planting ceremony is due to take place, I am greeted by a very different type of welcome.

Snooty expressions drip down the ends of aristocratic noses as the members of the Council pass silent judgment on my somewhat bombastic entrance.

"They're just jealous," Maxwell whispers to me as we take up our spots at the edge of the gathering.

"Yeah..." I agree with a stilted voice. "That's what I'm worried about."

I know firsthand of the lengths that these people are willing to go to in order to exact vengeance for perceived slights. And I did not particularly feel like painting a target on my back a second time while I am still trying to recover from the hurt caused by the first.

Maybe this is a mistake...

But I don't have time to think on it long, because the public erupts into an even more deafening outburst as Christian appears with Madeleine on his arm.

"Look at her..." snips a voice from behind me. "Acting like she's Queen already."

I whip around in disbelief. "Olivia!"

The Duchess of Lythikos cuts her green eyes over at me with a derisive look. "Oh, don't look so surprised, Harper. Just because you are now a duchess, does not mean that the rest of us have taken early retirement."

"Trust me," I grumble under my breath, "this was not the plan."

"Opportunities multiply as they are seized," she replies sagely.

I quirk a brow at her. "Meaning?"

"Meaning," she expounds surly, "opportunity breeds opportunity. And only by exploiting every advantage will you uncover previously hidden gains. Do they not teach The Art of War inyour schools?"

"No..."

She scoffs under her breath. "Explains a lot."

I roll my eyes at her as Christian and Madeleine pause on the steps for photos and a couple of quick sound bites. "I guess this means your sabbatical was productive?"

"Exceedingly."

I heave a breath. "At least one of us is making progress..."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short," she counters out of the corner of her mouth. "Your recent advancements have served as a welcome distraction..."

"Not sure if that’s a compliment, or not..." I admit sourly.

"You have more power than you realise," she insists quietly. "Make sure you use it."

"Wow..." I mutter, glancing over at her in genuine surprise. "Friendly advice from the Scarlet Duchess? What else have you learnt during your time away?"

"Our interests are temporarily aligned, nothing more," she replies, shooting daggers across the lawn towards Madeleine. "And I'll fill you in shortly."

"Well, it's good to have you back, regardless," I say with a dip of my head. "Your Grace."

Olivia shoots me a sidelong look. "Don't get sentimental on me, Duchess."

But I can see the hint of a smile pulling at her lips.

Christian and Madeleine arrive at the edge of the trees. Stepping up to the row of waiting saplings, Christian pulls a stack of notecards out of his pocket and delivers a short speech to the click of the cameras.

As the mandatory applause dies down, he slots the pieces of paper carefully away... and pulls off his jacket.

"What are you doing?" hisses Madeleine as the crowd descends into a hubbub of excited reactions.

"Taking a leaf out of the Duchess of Valtoria's book," he replies, handing his jacket off to the closest shocked Councillor as he sets about rolling up his sleeves.

"Out of—!" Madeleine bristles in indignation, while trying to maintain an outwardly calm composure. "The only thing you have taken is leave of your senses! Now get back here and—!"

Ignoring his fiancée's outburst, Christian grabs the ribbon-bedecked shovel out of the hands of the footman that was holding it, and steps up to a clear patch of grass. Adjusting his grip on the handle, he digs the metal blade decisively into the ground to the accompanying slew of clicking camera shutters.

"Shall we?" asks Olivia with a sly smirk as she pushes her way to the front of the line of gawping nobles.

"Let's," I agree, instantly catching onto her plan.

"Lady Harper!" hisses Bertrand from behind me. "What do you think you're—?"

"Lending a hand to the King," I throw back over my shoulder as I step to the front of the row of aristos who are looking mutely onto the sight of their monarch working up an actual sweat before them.

Grabbing another shovel from the pile in the corner — these ones obviously having seen some honest work already, judging by the dirt encrusted on their faces — I join the King of Cordonia in enlarging the hole in the ground.

Because regardless of Christian's underlying motives for ennobling me, and whatever his broader game may be, what he is doing right now is bigger than me, bigger than him, bigger than any of us. And that deserves recognition. Especially when he is taking such active — and public — strides towards being the change he wants to see unfurl during his rule. Where the ruling class doesn't just offer empty platitudes and hollow ceremony, but actually practices what it preaches. So, what better way to do that, than by planting the seeds of change in front of thousands of people in the literal heart of the kingdom?

Christian rewards my arrival with a nod and a smile as I take up position next to him.

Hefting my shovel, I slice it into the earth that he's already uncovered, using the somewhat flimsy sole of my heeled sandals to drive it deeper.

Scooping the blade back out, I suddenly feel a presence to my left. Looking up, I see that Maxwell has also joined our impromptu work crew.

Throwing me a wink, he drops his shovel in next to mine.

With the three of us working on tandem, it takes us almost no time at all to dig out a hole large enough to house the new apple tree.

Wiping the sweat from my forehead — the weatherman had not lied, that's for sure! — I see that Olivia, with some assistance from Hana, has already prepared the sapling by shunting it closer to the hole and removing the burlap covering from its roots.

Laying down our shovels, we help her manoeuvre the tree to the edge of the dint. Cheers and applause rise up from the onlookers as the sapling thuds into the earth. Olivia uses one of the knives from her hidden arsenal to slice off the twines holding the branches together, and the tree unfurls itself with a satisfied snap.

"Your Majesty!" shouts a reporter, who I recognise as Frederick Capone. "One for the Cordonian Times, if you please!"

"And for the CBS!" adds Donald Brine, muscling his way to the front.

"Certainly," accedes Christian graciously, holding his arm out. "It was a group effort, after all."

We all gather in — sweaty and dirty, but smiling — as the press corps immortalises the scene...

...and I innocuously sweep my hair over my shoulder in a vain effort to try and hide any bruises that may have become uncovered as a result of the unplanned exertion.

"Thank you for joining me in my moment of impulsivity," Christian acknowledges softly as the bulbs flash.

"Please," scoffs Olivia out of the side of her mouth. "It was coordinated from the start."

"The people don't seem to mind," counters Hana with a demure smile as she faces the cameras.

"With the exception of about half-dozen," I note, glancing back at the disgruntled looks of the Councillors from behind us, as they try to save face by applauding our efforts together with the rest of the crowd.

"They'll fall in line." Christian assures me as he lifts his hand with a wave.

I feel a prick between my shoulder blades. Turning my head, I catch sight of the cold fire radiating out of Madeleine's gaze from behind the mask of her perfect smile.

"Maybe not everyone..." I mutter under my breath as I turn back towards the paps.

I'm already on Madeleine's shit list for daring to return to court after my very public humiliation and banishment. On the night of her engagement tour launch party, no less! So, the fact that I ended up upstaging her — again — probably means that I've sunk even further down the ladder of her estimations.

To what end, I have no idea. But I'm going to have to start being more careful from here on out.

Once the press are finally placated, we disperse across the lawn in search of some much-needed refreshments.

"Harper!"

I swallow a groan as I'm brought up short, mere steps from the freshly squeezed, rosemary-infused lemonade that I desperately need after toiling away in this heat. "What now, Bertrand...?"

"I... uhm..." He clears his throat as I turn to face him. "I wanted to apologise for my earlier outburst. It was unseemly... and in retrospect, short-sighted."

"What do you mean?" I ask with a frown. Bertrand very rarely — if ever! — apologised.

"The public reaction to the tree planting has been overwhelming," he clarifies, pulling his phone out.

My eyes bulge as I take in the view count on the screen. "A hundred thousand views already!"

"And counting," Bertrand adds. "And that is only one website."

"And look at the comments!" I exclaim, scrolling through the feed. "They're loving Maxwell as well!"

"Yes, it appears that my brother has a keener instinct for media relations than I do..."

"You should tell him that," I say. "It would mean the world to him."

Bertrand looks momentarily taken aback. "I... Well..." He clears his throat again. "Yes. Maybe I will. He deserves some recognition for his efforts in diverting — at least temporarily — the negative attention away from our financial predicaments."

"A simple hug and a 'thank-you' will do," I tell him with a knowing look.

Bertrand reels back in abject horror. "I will not subject my brother to such a sordid display of affection! Especially in public!"

I heave a sigh. "And there's your problem, right th—"

I trail off as I spot a familiar figure signalling to me from over Bertrand's shoulders.

"Excuse me," I say, palming Bertrand's phone back to him as I move towards one of the marquees that had been set up at the edge of the lawn.

Slipping inside the flap of the tent, I come face-to-face with Ana de Luca.

"Your Grace," she nods, dipping into a curtesy, something she hasn't deigned to do before. "Thank you for making the time."

"Ana," I nod in return, wondering why the influential editor of Trend chose to pull me away for a private meeting. Especially after I cornered her so forcefully at Madeleine's garden party a few days ago.

"I suppose congratulations are in order," she continues, straightening back up. "Since returning to court you have managed to elevate yourself not just in rank, but in the eyes of the public as well. Rolling your sleeves up in tandem with the King was a masterful piece of image enhancement."

"I didn't do it for myself," I reply evenly.

"Of course," she nods quickly. "We must all step in line with our new King. But your reputation is certainly reaping the benefits as well."

"As is your bottom line," I point out.

"Your initiative is markedly boosting sales of this month's special edition, as well as traffic to our website," she concedes. "For which Trend is very grateful. But that is not the reason I pulled you aside."

"What is it then?"

"I found out the name of the photographer," she replies, reaching into her handbag.

I feel my heart jump in my chest. "You're joking..."

She raises a brow at me from behind the lenses of her black-out Versace shades as she pulls a small flash-drive out. "I can assure you that I am not."

I quickly pull myself back together. "No. Of course not..."

Handing the drive over, she adds. "On there you will find all the pertinent information I was able to obtain through my own means."

"Thank you," I say sincerely, taking the piece of plastic from her. "I honestly was not expecting this..."

She shrugs an elegant shoulder. "I said I would look into it, so I did. It is not much, but I am sure you have people who can hopefully take it further."

"I do," I affirm, slotting the device into my clutch.

"After all," she adds with a knowing quirk to her lips. "You are not the only one with a vested interest in seeing your name cleared, Your Grace."

With another quick bob, she exits the marquee.

I let out a low exhale as the tent flap drops back into place in her wake. "Thank God..."

Some much-needed progress at last!

Hopefully, Drake can take the information from the drive and do a deep dive into the photographer to see if they ever crossed paths with whoever it is that has it in for me.

Which reminds me...

Opening my clutch up again, I pull my phone out and type up a quick message to my elusive boyfriend.

I haven't seen or heard from him since the event started. And now I have two pieces of critical information I need to share with him. So, rather than chasing after him like some damsel in distress, I'm going to make him come to me for a change. Because time is of the essence, and I don't want to wait.

Hitting send, I exit the tent and head back towards the orchard. I figure that since everyone is on the lawn, the secluded garden hidden amongst the trees will give me and Drake the best chance to meet in private, away from the prying eyes of the court and the press.

Slipping between the tree trunks, I try to make my way as casually as possible through the orchard, as if I am simply out for a walk, in order to ward off potential suspicion. But, as I drift further away from the Festival, I start to pick up the pace, mindful of the short timeframe I gave Drake... as well as the exposed roots on the ground.

Because as much as I might want to hurry, I definitely don't want — or need — a twisted ankle the day before we're due to start the international leg of the trip. As Mom was right — I should take advantage of the upcoming whirlwind tour of Europe to at least try and get some sightseeing in. As who knows when I'll get the chance to do this again...

...especially if I'm forced to become a hermit because we fail to expose the mastermind behind the press scandal.

I shake my head. No. I need to stay positive. It's the only way I'm going to get through—

"Competing with a herd of elephants, Gale?"

I snap my gaze up at the sound of Drake's voice... and nearly trip over a hidden apple lodged in the grass.

"You try sneaking ‘round in four-inch heels," I grumble back at him, while using the trunk of a nearby tree to steady myself.

He mutters something under his breath as he steps over to me with an outstretched hand. "Here."

Grabbing his hand, I navigate gingerly away from the tree, only to find that the slightly rotten fruit has become impaled on the end of my stiletto.

"Great..." I groan, trying to flick the stupid thing off... But it stays stubbornly stuck.

"You're a walking disaster, y'know that, right?" drawls Drake as he drops down in front of me.

"Ha-ha, funny," I snark back at him while trying to balance on one foot on the uneven ground.

He meets my eye with a wry look as he finally manages to pull the offending fruit off with a squelch. "You're only gripin' 'cause it's true."

"Yeah, well, not all of us have... reflexes... like Neo..." I reply sardonically as I save myself from tipping over by grabbing onto Drake's shoulder.

He stifles a scoff as he tosses the apple into the trees. "You good?"

"Yeah," I confirm, righting myself again and letting go of his shirt.

Drake regards me critically for a long moment — as if expecting me to keel over again at the drop of a hat — before pushing himself up.

"Thanks," I say, laying an appreciative hand on his arm.

The humour fades from his gaze at the contact.

"Drake..." I start...

...but he's already pulled away.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asks, not quite meeting my eyes as he slots his hands into his pockets, the momentary lightness of our previous interaction gone.

I heave a breath.

We really need to talk about what happened this morning. But his suddenly standoffish demeanour makes it clear that he's not quite ready for that yet.

So, I decide to start with something less contentious.

"We have a lead on the photographer," I tell him, reaching into my clutch.

His head perks up with interest. "That was fast."

"Teamwork makes the dream work," I agree with a smile, pulling the flash drive back out and holding it out to him.

His posture suddenly stiffens. "The hell is that?"

I glance around me uncertainly. "What?"

"The fucking ring on your finger," he declares dispassionately, his accusatory gaze scorching into my outstretched hand.

My heart drops. Oh, no...

This is not how I wanted to break it to him. But unfortunately for both of us, the cat has now ripped itself out of the proverbial bag, so I'm just going to have to scamper after it.

Taking a steadying inhale, I look him square in the eye. "It's my new signet ring." I turn my hand over to show it to him.

His face darkens. "Fils de pute de—" he grits under his breath, snapping a hand out to grab my wrist.

My eyes widen. "Drake, what are y—?"

A storm is raging in his espresso gaze. "Signet rings go on the little finger. On the right hand."

"Oh," is all I can manage as he swipes the golden band off my left ring finger.

"You didn't know, did you?" he asks softly, reaching for my other hand... more gently this time.

I shake my head with a constricted throat. "No, I—"

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

My head jerks ‘round at the sound of the unexpected voice. "Christian!"

"I see you couldn't resist a somewhat impulsive stroll through the orchards, either?" he asks, more rhetorically than anything else. "The scent of apples is truly luscious this time of year."

"Erm... yes...!" I manage to squeak out, shoving my right hand behind my back. "Smells like apple juice!"

Christian's brow quivers ever so slightly at my slightly random — and obviously unexpected — comparison.

But I'm too busy coordinating with Drake to get the signet ring shoved back onto my hand while trying to palm the flash drive off to him without dropping either in the process. As both outcomes would lead to some very awkward conversations!

I feel the warmth of the metal slide onto the index finger of my hand (Drake had probably ascertained that the circumference of the band was too large for my pinky), and I'm finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Embarrassing backpedaling, narrowly averted!

Drake uses the opportunity to extract the flash drive from my hand as well, dropping the device casually into his pocket as he moves beside me. "She ain't wrong."

"No," concedes Christian, eying the two of us for a second longer than strictly comfortable. "She rarely is."

"So, umm... Are you hiding from the paps as well?" I ask in a bid to diffuse the growing tension in the air.

"No, I came looking for you, actually," he corrects, taking a step forward. "I saw you slip into the orchard, and thought it prudent to follow you."

"Oh?" I say, feeling my stomach tighten again. "Worried I might get lost?"

"I was hoping to catch you alone," he corrects, coming to a stop in front of me.

I swallow tightly as I see him glance over at Drake.

Please don't fight... Please don't fight...

Christian's gaze reverts to me. "But I suppose it is convenient for Drake to happen to be here as well."

My heart skips an uncomfortable beat. "It is?"

"Yes," he affirms. "I have received some news that you'll both be interested in hearing."

"Well, don't keep us in damn suspense, then..." mutters Drake with a noticeable edge to his voice.

I try to reach discretely out to brush my fingers against his, to reassure him that come what may, we'll get through it together, that—

"We found Tariq."

Christian's words hit me like a kick to the chest. The breath explodes out of me so forcefully that I am actually forced to take a step back in a bid to maintain my balance as the apple trees descend into a spin around me.

No way...

"Where?"

Drake's voice floats across the edge of my awareness. And even in my spaced-out state, I can feel the weight of the cold, calculated fury infused into that single word.

No corner... No mercy.

"Dubai," replies Christian, who also sounds like he's miles away. "He—"

But Drake's already spun away. "Send me the coordinates."

"Harper?"

I blink up at Christian in a daze. "Huh?"

"Are you alright?" he asks, laying a concerned hand on my cheek. "You... You looked as if you were about to faint..."

"I..." I swallow past the sudden dryness in my throat. "I'm okay."

"Are you certain?" he presses, peering down at me. "I could ring for a doctor, and—"

"No," I insist, pulling away from him. "I'm fine. I... I guess I just got caught off-guard..."

"It is an unexpected development, certainly," he concedes. "But hopefully still a welcome one?"

"Yes!" I blurt out. "Of course! I want to clear my name more than anyone, and Tariq is key to that! I just..." My voice trails uncertainly off.

Christian flashes me a knowing half-smile. "Feel some trepidation about the prospect...?"

"I guess so," I concede, my fingers moving unconsciously to the horseshoe charm at my wrist.

Because as much as I may want Tariq to pay for what he did from a rational point of view, from an emotional standpoint, I’m terrified.

As even though I know in the back of my mind that a lot of my trepidation has to do with the fact that I am still trying to recover from the psychological trauma that Tariq inflicted on me, a major part of me is also scared of what setting the record straight would entail in practice.

Christian had mentioned that there were 'methods of persuasion' that could be used to force a confession from Tariq. But then what? Would I be made to very publicly relive the entire horrible episode in the form of TV spots and interviews, or would we be able to get by with one official press release? And given my spotty history with the press, will people actually believe my side of the story...?

I mean, Meghan and Harry didn’t exactly fare well in the court of public opinion when they tried to counter the official royal narrative...

On top of all that, in light of my very visceral reactions to returning to Applewood, I have no idea how I'm going to react to seeing Tariq in person again. Would I burst into tears? Have a nervous breakdown? Dissolve into a panic attack? Stab him in the gut and then the nuts?

And (possibly worst of all) what if we discover that Tariq had been acting alone? And his attack on me — while traumatising — is in no way connected to the larger, and definitely more dangerous plot to remove me from the running for Queen? What then...?

"Your qualms are not as misplaced as you may initially think," Christian consoles. "It is a daunting prospect to face the person who actively sought to harm you."

Something in his tone catches my attention. "What do you mean?"

Christian heaves a sigh. "I do not know if you are aware of this, but several years ago, I was the target of an assassination attempt."

I nod tightly. "Yes. Drake told me."

"Then I presume he also told you how deeply the experience affected me," he says, catching my eye with an uncharacteristically guarded look.

"Yes," I affirm, thinking back to the conversation in Olivia's wine cellar that felt like years ago.

"What he probably didn't tell you, however," he continues, "is that I visited the perpetrator in prison."

My jaw drops. "You what!"

"Not publicly and certainly not in any official capacity." He shakes his head wryly. "I did not even talk to the man."

"Then why...?"

"I... I was having trouble reconciling with what had happened," he explains. "And moving past it. The trauma councillor that I was working with suggested that it was perhaps because I was subconsciously endowing the gunman with too much power, and thereby transmuting the man into something more akin to an evil monster."

A shiver runs down my spine at Christian's words. It's like he's talking about Tariq...

"So, to help break the negative emotional associations I had built up, my councillor arranged a clandestine meeting where I would have the opportunity to face the man."

"How... How did that go?" I ask nervously.

"I was terrified, of course," Christian admits. "I had no idea what to expect and each scenario I imagined in my head was worse than the last. But, when I finally got into room where the meeting was to take place, I was surprised by what I saw. As rather than some hulking, shadowy fiend, it was a pale, somewhat diminutive man sat across from me."

"So… what did you do?"

"We simply sat at a table and stared at each other," he recounts. "He with more than a bit of contemptuous malice, I have to admit, but in that moment, I realised that he was a flesh-and-blood person who had fallen prey to the same misguided emotions as I — anger, fear, resentment — just manifested differently. And that helped set me onto the path of true healing. As ultimately, I was able to forgive him."

"Forgive him?" I gasp disbelievingly. "For trying to murder you?"

"Nobody acts in isolation," Christian advises calmly. "Even the most unconscionable horrors perpetrated by the villains of humanity — torture, mass murder, genocide — sprout from the basis of an emotional or psychological motivator such as love, fear, greed, jealousy... to name but a few. So, while we may disagree with and condemn the action retrospectively from the safety of the moral high-ground, it is very possible that had we found ourselves in a similar situation, we would end up being just as guilty as the person we are looking to condemn."

"So, what?" I demand testily. "I should feel sorry for Tariq for what he did to me?"

"Showing empathy and compassion towards our counterparts does not mean forgetting or excusing the harm suffered," counsels Christian. "But it will certainly allow you to start on the path of true healing."

I shake my head as I turn away. "I'm not sure Tariq deserves that..."

"It is by no means an easy assignment," he admits, laying a hand on my shoulder. "But even if you cannot find it in your heart presently to forgive him, do at least try to keep yourself open to the possibility down the line. You may be surprised by the results."

Looking up, I can see that there is sincerity welling on his emerald gaze. And — for once — I don't doubt the true intent of his words. "Thanks. I'll think about it."

"As diplomatic as ever," he smiles, the tips of his fingers brushing down my back as he drops his hand. "And, regardless of what you choose to do, I'll be right by your side to support you."

"Thanks," I mutter with what I hope is a genuine smile, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that with Drake’s abrupt departure, it’s just me and Christian amongst the trees. Taking a step back towards the way I’d come, I ask, "So, umm... How did you end up finding him?"

"Instagram," replies Christian with a wry chuckle as he falls into step beside me.

My head snaps up in bewilderment. "He posted his whereabouts?"

"No," he laughs, looping my arm through his in reassurance. "Not intentionally, at any rate. He took shelter on his cousin's yacht docked off the coast of the Palm Jumeirah, and—"

"What's that?" I ask with a frown.

"One of a trio of artificially constructed archipelagos located off the coast of Dubai," he explains. "They are so called for their shape, which resemble stylised palm trees."

"Sounds... fancy," I admit, while trying to maintain some semblance of platonic distance between the two of us.

"They really are a sight to behold," he affirms, pulling me back to his side. "But it is part of the reason why we were not able to locate him initially — we knew he has family in the Emirates, of course, but—"

"He does?" I interject in surprise. This is certainly news to me...!

"Yes," he nods. "His father is a Cordonian nobleman, but his mother hails from the House of Al Falasi, the branch of the Bani Yas tribe that also produced Dubai's ruling family."

My eyes widen. "So, his mom is royalty?"

"No," chuckles Christian. "She is not directly connected to the Al Maktoum dynasty. But her family is nevertheless influential in the region. Which is why when we hit a roadblock with the French authorities, we decided to focus our efforts on countries where we knew he had familial or business connections. The Emirates, however, boast a multitude of private airfields, not to mention water-based ports of entry, so attempting to narrow down Tariq’s possible time and method of arrival and determining where he went from there was providing to be a complex undertaking. Especially since we had to ensure to conduct our enquiries outside of the official channels."

"Specifically, via social media," I supply dryly.

"Yes," confirms Christian, only half jokingly. "When we realised that Tariq must have switched off or changed out his phone, Drake suggested that we set up a facial recognition-based search algorithm that could scour the various social media and news portals in a bid to help us pinpoint his exact location."

"That sounds... technical," I admit.

"A few years ago, it would have been, But the technology is relatively commonplace now, thankfully."

"So, you managed to get a hit?"

"Yes," he affirms. "One of his cousins on his mother's side posted a selfie featuring his new yacht a couple of days ago... and someone who partially matched Tariq's features was visible on the edge of the frame. But it wasn't until this morning that our man on the ground was able to obtain independent confirmation that it really was him."

"Wow..." I manage. "Talk about blind, dumb luck."

"Never underestimate the awesome power of serendipity," counsels Christian with a smile as we reach the edge of the trees again. "It certainly played a hand in crossing our paths."

I swallow nervously. "Yeah, I—"

"You have some nerve!"

Before I have a chance to realise what is happening, Madeleine has swooped in from seemingly out of nowhere to intercept us with all the wrathful precision of a homing missile.

"Ow!" I hiss, feeling the ends of her manicured nails sink into my arm as she wrenches me off Christian like I'm some kind of plague.

"One would think you would be grateful to His Majesty for his benevolent generosity in elevating your previously non-existent status to that of a duchess," she spits with barely disguised contempt as she pulls me nose-to-nose with her.

"Get off me!" I grit, trying to shake her loose.

"Madeleine..." interjects Christian from behind me in a voice that I only heard him use once before... in the hallway at Ramsford when he realised that Drake had brought me back to Cordonia. "You overstep."

But the Countess of Fydelia seems to hear neither of us as she tightens her claw-like hold on me. "Yet instead, you repay him by not only by hijacking a royal event to serve your own shameless self-aggrandisement—"

I shake my head in disbelief. "Wait... Wh—?"

"—but then you have the unmitigated gall—"

"Madeleine," says Christian again, more forcefully this time. "That is enough."

But Madeleine is oblivious to the quiet threat suffused into the sound of her name, choosing to continue her tirade instead, "—to sneak off into the bushes with my fiancé in order to do God-knows-what when he should be—"

"I said, enough!" snaps Christian, coming suddenly between Madeleine and me with a face of thunder.

The force of his command is loud enough to cause a few heads on the edge of the lawn to turn curiously towards us.

Even Madeleine startles somewhat in response to the uncharacteristically vehement order. But not enough to let go of me.

"Can you not see what she is doing?" she demands indignantly as she turns to face Christian. "Or does she have you wrapped so tightly around her finger that you cannot even—?"

"How I choose to spend my time with the Duchess of Valtoria in private is of no concern to you, Countess," interjects Christian bluntly. "Or do I need to remind you of the conditions of our engagement?"

Madeleine's alabaster cheeks flush scarlet. "No..."

"Then I strongly suggest that you unhand Lady Harper, and ensure that this kind of juvenile outburst does not happen again."

Madeleine's eyes blaze with cold fury. But she relinquishes her hold on me, nevertheless. "My apologies, Duchess..." she snips, her voice dripping with insincerity.

I reach up to rub the spot where her nails had been on the verge of puncturing my skin.

Bitch...

Christian nods tersely in approval. "Now that that is sorted, I believe our guests are waiting. Lady Madeleine, if you'd be so kind..."

Madeleine takes his arm with a look that could've killed. "Of course, Your Majesty."

"Lady Harper," acknowledges Christian with a dip of his head as he starts to steer his seething fiancée away.

Knowing that all eyes are still on us, I drop into a quick curtesy as they walk past, on one hand grateful to Christian for shutting Madeleine down, but on the other hand wondering how badly we kicked into a nest of hornets in the process.

As it is clear that Madeleine is still raging with jealous insecurity... Perhaps even more so than she had been back at her manor when she cornered me in the bathroom. And the fact that — despite the massive diamond on her finger — I now technically outrank her is definitely not helping the situation!

So much for making allies at court…

Blowing a wayward strand of hair out of my face, I turn back towards the festivities…

…only to be greeted by a wall of judgemental eyes, and more than a few camera lenses.

"Great..." I mutter under my breath.

Whether catching me with Christian had been the genuine straw that snapped Madeleine's cool, or whether she deliberately fabricated the showdown to undermine the positive reactions I got from the press earlier, the end result is the same...

I'm going to be on the front page tomorrow. Again.

Exactly in what form, I have no idea. But I've been at court long enough now to know that the whole thing will be blown completely out of proportion, and the resulting story will generate even more press frenzy.

But if there’s one thing that Drake has taught me, it’s that I cannot allow myself to give the aristos the satisfaction of ever thinking that they’ve managed to squash me into the dirt. Because that would undermine the entire reason why I came back to court in the first place, and given how close we now are to claiming back the truth, it would be a massive and premature admission of defeat.

So, raising my chin defiantly, I make my way back across the lawn to rejoin the remainder of the Festival.

The story continues in Chapter 17 - News Flash

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Ghosted

Ghosted - Two Steps Back (Chapter Ten)

Series Summary - Prince Liam fell for Riley Brooks hard and fast. A marriage filled with love and devotion was within his reach. But everything changed when she vanished just before the end of the social season. As everyone voices their concerns regarding her scandalous departure, a confession from an unlikely source turns Liam's world upside down and makes him question everything around him.

Book/Pairing - TRR - Liam x MC (Riley Brooks)

A/N 1 - This AU starts right before the beginning of the engagement tour. There is a two-month lapse between the coronation and where we pick up, but we will stray from canon. Please excuse any errors found.

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

After the Regatta

Penelope hobbled to her room on a sore foot and a painfully bruised ego. This wasn’t going as expected; advisors told her toward the beginning of the season she might stand a chance, but after only the first few events, they hastily changed their tone. Between Madeleine, Riley, and Olivia, they knew Penelope would not be the new king’s choice.  

Regardless, Penelope was enjoying her time away. The friends she’d made were irreplaceable; she and Kiara formed an everlasting bond. Even Riley was incredibly friendly, despite her commoner status. Penelope was rooting for Riley to win it all because she was genuinely a nice person, and Penelope was looking forward to what Cordonia could look like with her as queen. 

Penelope approached her door whilst humming to herself. The day was long, and she was relieved to be in the comfortable solace of her own space. She planned on calling her parents for their daily video chat, and to get some doggy face time to tide her over while away. Her anxiety was through the roof without having them close, but the friendships she’d made were a momentary distraction. She was glad the ladies were nice enough; otherwise, this experience would’ve been a nightmare. 

Penelope entered and made a bee-line for the bathroom. She did her business, washed her hands, and bounced her way over to the dresser to get more comfortable for the evening. Just as she opened the drawer, a stern knock sounded on her door. Penelope scrunched her face; she was expecting no visitors but thought perhaps Kiara wanted to hang out. 

As Penelope opened the structure, a thunderous force shoved through her and entered, slamming the door shut. Penelope stumbled backward but caught her footing. She could only stare at the person in front of her as panic flourished through her body. She didn't recognize them, but the death glare plastered on their face told her that notion was not applied on both ends. Her instinct told her to scream for help, but the visitor addressed her before she was given the chance.

They spoke in a low, raspy voice. “Have a seat, Lady Penelope. We have a lot to discuss.” 

“W–who are you?” 

“You need not worry about who I am, only what I know.” 

“What do you mean?” 

The person clasped their hands behind their back and stalked around Penelope; like a vulture circles its prey. “Everyone around you thinks you're the sweet, poodle-obsessed Penny, but I see otherwise. I know all about you… The things you’ve done… What your daddy tries his damndest to hide…” 

Penelope’s already increasing heart rate spiked. “I don’t understand.” 

“Of course you don’t. It’s alright, I wouldn’t want anyone to know, either.” They dismissively shrugged.

“Know what?” 

The person snickered at her attempts to deflect, but they could see the panic rising in her eyes. “It’s quite a common expression — young and dumb. But, when you’re in the nobility, there are no secrets unless you know the right people.” 

Penelope thickly swallowed. “I don’t – I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Really? So, then you’ve never been — joined in holy matrimony, right?”

Penelope’s eyes widened. “I–” 

“Enough with your attempts to feign confusion; that will only prolong this process and I am not in the mood to play games. I know of your estranged marriage; how your father pays plenty of hush money per month to keep his mouth shut. I imagine it would be fairly difficult to talk yourself out of that situation if the press were to catch wind; considering Portavira continuously requests the Crown’s compensation. And I do believe the monarch would not be happy to learn your family has developed a slush fund, either.” 

The intruder gave Penelope a wicked smile and added, “Not to mention the — fatality that was caught amid your poor life choices…”

Penelope visibly tensed. “That’s not – I didn’t–” she stammered before snapping her mouth closed; her flustered state prohibited her from forming an argument.

“It’s a matter of opinion, I suppose. Regardless, I attained the records from your procedure.” They waved a piece of paper in Penelope’s face, and recognition swept over her instantly. She released a shuddered breath as the document came to a stop, her tearful eyes centering on the text. 

Despite Penelope’s panicked state, the aggressor continued, “Tell me, do your parents know of your aborted fetus? I mean, I saw you on security cameras entering the clinic alone. It was smart of you to use a fake name, but unfortunately, that was not enough to cover up your mistakes.” 

Penelope never answered, but the assailant watched her swallow thickly with shame etched in her features. She couldn’t fathom how this stranger had found her deepest secrets that she was certain would never see the light of day. 

Penelope found out she was pregnant the day after her annulment was discreetly settled. Terrified wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how she felt, as she stared down at the positive test; she went to the clinic in disguise to find out about her options and decided abortion would be the best solution. Being only nineteen years old, Penelope was practically a child herself and didn’t believe she was at a point to care for a baby like they deserved. And she was alone; when she dreamt of this moment, it happened completely differently in her head. She longed for the fairytale love, where they would start a family together; not single and inevitably disgraced.

Her parents didn’t know, she was too afraid to tell them — especially after her father agreed to pay a continuous hefty fee for Guy’s silence. Penelope was always well-behaved; the perfect trophy daughter. The look of pure disappointment held in their eyes when they found out about her marriage haunted her; she never wanted to do anything out of line again. All Penelope desired was to move on from her mistake, but life had other plans.

Panicked and ashamed, Penelope made the impossible decision alone, not wanting anyone to know of the stupid decisions that led her there. Her fear and guilt only increased after the procedure, but she grieved what could have been and pushed it into the deepest pit of her mind.

She never told a soul – nobody knew – or so she thought.

“All it would take is a small whisper to the press and it would destroy not only you, but your fraudulent parents as well…” 

Penelope gasped as her tears freely flowed. “No! P–please, don’t!” 

The person laughed; the sound sending an involuntary chill down Penelope’s spine. They stalked forward until her back hit the wall and they breathed over her. Penelope squeezed her eyes closed, but felt them draw nearer. The tangy scent of alcohol mixed with cigar smoke filled her nostrils, as they whispered in her ear, “If you want my silence, you’re going to have to earn it.” 

Penelope’s eyes shot open as she frantically nodded her head. “Okay, j–just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.” 

“I knew you’d see reason,” the unknown presence spoke while taking a small step away. They produced an envelope from their jacket and handed it to her. 

Penelope opened it and started skimming over the information; it was an email address with a set of instructions and a few other notes. She didn’t understand what it all meant; the main thing that stuck out was the location of where they wanted the photographer to be. 

“Why are they going to be outside Riley’s room?” 

“The less you know, the better.” They once again reached into their jacket, this time pulling out a small vial and handing it to her. “You need to give this to her beforehand. I do not care how it happens, just make sure it gets in her system; the earlier, the better.” 

“W–what is this? Is this a drug?” Penelope stammered as she stared down at the bottle in her trembling hands. 

The person smiled; a dark, wicked smile. “You don’t need to worry about that; just make sure she ingests it at an early enough hour.”

Tears once again streamed down Penelope’s cheeks as she frantically shook her head and tried to hand the items back. “N–no. I can’t do that, and I won’t. I would rather disgrace myself than–”

“You’re going to do it.”  

Penelope stood a little taller and yelled, “No, I won’t! I–”

Penelope received a sudden, sharp backhand to her cheek. She fell to the floor cradling her face but was soon flipped over onto her back, her aggressor pinning her to the ground. She opened her mouth to scream, but quickly closed it as she saw the gleam of a blade in the light right in front of her face. 

“Make a sound and I’ll kill you right here, right now.” The attacker moved the knife to hover over Penelope’s throat, applying just enough pressure to keep her subdued. “You have two options — you either comply and do as you’re told, or this is where your life will end. If you refuse to cooperate, you already know too much, and I will ensure you don’t live to tell the tale personally. But I won’t stop there, no – I’ll ruin your parents as well; the entire world will know what a fraud you and your family are.” 

“No… P–please. I – I can’t – I –” Penelope frantically stammered, trying to develop a coherent sentence. 

“You can, and you will. Otherwise,” they leaned forward, close enough to touch noses with Penelope. “I’ll dig your grave myself and throw those mangy mutts in with you after. Perhaps we can make it a family affair and shove your parents inside, too. After all, being exposed to the world and losing their only disappointment of a child would leave them with nothing left to live for; especially once they know of your treacherous sins.” They sat back with a vile chortle, letting the words linger.

Penelope cried harder, her breathing rapid and erratic as her panic boiled over. She opened her mouth to shout for help despite the blade at her throat, but a firm hand abruptly pressed against her lips. “I think I’m being very understanding, actually. I could just end you and move on to the next useless suitor, but I’m allowing you to make the correct choice; to answer the call of service for your country. That commoner has no business being here; you know it, I know it, everyone knows it! We have to deal with her!” 

After a tense moment of silence, her intruder grew restless. They rolled their eyes and huffed, “You’re running out of time. I’ll gift you ten seconds; agree, or...” The blade on Penelope’s throat suddenly held more force; hard enough she could feel her skin being lightly pierced. “I don’t think I really need to finish that sentence, do I?”

Penelope subtly nodded her head, afraid to move too much. Although she didn’t want to betray Riley in that way, she saw no other way out. Not only was her own life being threatened, but her parents as well; she was not willing to let them die because of her secrets they knew nothing about.

Her attacker soon chortled and sat up. “I had a feeling you would see it my way.” They patted her cheek, hard, before they stood and adjusted their clothing.

The intruder walked to the door and turned back around to address a whimpering Penelope. “As a reward for your service, I will make you a lady-in-waiting for the soon-to-be queen. I’d suggest you take the position and use discretion whenever necessary from here on out. If you do anything to compromise this operation, you will be sorry. Am I clear?“

The following afternoon, Olivia met with Liam, Leo, and Ray as they discussed the events of the night prior. The court just arrived in Portavira, although there was a break in events until the polo match in a few days. They gathered in Olivia’s room, as that’s where Ray set up his equipment and continuously ensured the area remained free of compromises. 

Olivia told them about Penelope’s involvement, and Liam was certain Olivia was lying or playing some kind of sick joke. However, after seeing the proof himself, he knew it had to be true. He wasn’t close with Penelope by any means, but still felt betrayed. Riley was kind and warm to those around her, not a malicious bone in her body; what made Penelope want to get rid of her?

“We have to question her. I can’t be sure, but she might know we’re onto her. The look in her eyes –” Olivia shook her head with a heavy sigh. ”– I can’t explain it, but I don’t like it.”  

“I agree,” Leo interjected. “We need to know why she did it, man, because this makes absolutely no sense. I mean, Penelope – of all people? Did she accidentally eat some dog food or something, and it made her go kookoo?” 

Despite his overflowing anxiety, Liam laughed. “I really don't know. But we’re not all going to question her. I think it’s best if myself and Leo did this, so we don’t overwhelm her.” He spoke to the entire group. 

“Are you… okay to do that?” Leo tentatively asked. “I can take Olivia — or hell, even Maxwell or Drake, if you don’t think you can keep your cool. We can’t really risk her shutting down and withholding anything important...” 

Liam remained silent for a long moment. Honestly, he didn’t know if he could control himself. The selfish side of him wanted to confront Penelope face-to-face and demand answers. However, he knew he was teetering on a dangerous ledge, and her confession could provoke several different reactions. 

He didn’t remember the last time he’d slept or ate a full meal. Days were molding together, and he had no sense of time unless it pertained to the tour. Liam was simply muttering through, doing the dutiful checklist a monarch should on the daily and trying his hardest to stay afloat; even though in all reality, he felt like he was drowning in a sea of uncertainty. No amount of training could prepare him for something like this; he was simply in limbo until one of the many open ends finally led them to something of importance. As the King he held mighty authority; yet, he’d never felt so powerless. Every second of not knowing something was torture; he just wanted to see Riley with his own two eyes. 

“I… don’t think I can, actually. If you wouldn’t mind questioning her, I would very much appreciate it, Leo.” 

Leo patted Liam on the back with a reassuring smile. “No problem. Care to accompany me, Livvie?” 

“I suppose if we want some kind of answer, I’ll have to, won’t I?” Olivia smirked. 

“Are we doing this now, or?” 

“Yes. The sooner, the better.” 

“And we’re certain she’s here?” Liam asked. 

“She was out earlier with her dogs,” Olivia answered with an eye roll. 

Liam nodded as he rubbed his palms together. “This is a decent plan. I have a good feeling about this, guys.” 

For the first time since he opened his eyes to the truth about the narrative against Riley, Liam felt like this could take them somewhere relevant. This was a solid lead and although he knew it probably wouldn’t provide him with all the answers he was seeking, it was a damn good start. 

Liam spoke again, “Any other updates?” 

“I received the diagnostic report on Lady Riley’s dress on the way here." Ray explained. "The blood was mostly Riley’s, but traces from Tariq were present as well. There were a few hairs and skin cells noted, but the DNA only registers those two.”

“Oh… okay…” Liam quietly responded. He hoped deep down the mess was from someone else, but immediately felt foolish to let himself believe such a thing. Hearing it confirmed out loud made his stomach burn with anxiety; this is what he blinded himself to, this is what he ignored. The overwhelming guilt Liam was fighting momentarily took his breath away. 

“Otherwise, there are no new leads.” Ray briefly met eyes with Olivia, the both of them having a silent conversation; unbeknownst to Liam. It wasn’t technically a lie, but not the entire truth. Ray found something — interesting, but Olivia decided now was not the time to bring it up to Liam, at least until after they learned what exactly Penelope knew. “Where Tariq is concerned, I’ve hit a complete brick wall; there’s absolutely nothing.” 

“Nothing?” 

Ray shook his head. “Not a trace. His accounts show no transactions, and his family has not heard from him in months. I’ve checked every mode of transportation available to leave the country and he wasn’t on any of their databases.” 

“How is that even possible? There has to be something, somewhere. Seriously – Tariq has the IQ of a fucking peanut.” Leo interjected. 

“It could be a collection of reasons,” Ray answered. He suddenly stopped typing on his keyboard and took in everyone’s curious expressions. “Either he’s just incredibly clever and has an immaculate ability to cover his tracks, has hired someone to do that for him, or…” 

“He’s dead…” Liam quietly inserted, just above a whisper. His palms started trembling in his lap, and the only thing he could feel was his heart erratically thumping.

The deeper this web went, the further Liam felt himself slipping from reality. All he wanted was a sign, a concrete clue, anything to put him one step closer to finding Riley. The longer that time passed, the more he believed there was a grim reason they couldn’t find them. Just when the light at the end shined brighter, Liam was suddenly drug further down into the abyss of questions, making him doubt everything. 

“We can’t confirm that right now, Your Majesty. I’ve searched hospital records and there are no reports of him checking in at any of them and nothing solid to point to that conclusion. There are a lot of open ends regarding his whereabouts, but I have a couple more places to look before we should start truly discussing that possibility.” 

“Right…” Liam quietly responded as his mind raced. If Tariq’s DNA was on her dress, does that mean he’s the one who injured her? They already knew he was close to Riley; the pictures obviously showcased them together, but was Tariq responsible for attacking her, too? Those thoughts created a storm of rage he’d never felt before; just when he thought the fire had sizzled out, another splash of gasoline was poured onto the diminishing coals. Liam may not have felt a lot of hope, but he sure as hell felt the rage consuming his entire being. 

Leo noticed Liam's forelorn expression and reassuringly gripped his shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. We’re going to get an answer — soon.”

A short while later, Olivia, Leo, and ‘Harold’ walked the halls of the Portavirian estate, searching for Penelope’s room. Liam opted to have a drink with Drake instead of being alone, as his already overflowing anxiety seemed to increase with every passing second. 

They rounded the corner and Olivia tapped on Penelope’s door, but received near silence; muffled barks rang out beyond the structure, although seemingly at a distance. After a few moments, she stepped forward and repeated the process, but again, no answer. Leo knocked a few times a little louder, but heard nothing — aside from the dogs. He reached for the handle and tried to turn it, just to see, only to find it locked.

“What should we do?” Leo asked Olivia. 

Olivia tapped her index finger against her chin. “I don’t know…” She furrowed her brow and stared at the door in front of her. “The poodles are inside, so she shouldn’t be far… Maybe we search around and see if we spot her anywhere? It’s still relatively early; she could have stepped out for a moment.” 

Leo and Ray both agreed, and the trio began their trek. They started outside by the pool and checked the lounge area, but Penelope wasn't located anywhere. They searched nearly every floor, even the roof, but found no signs of her. Everyone else was already in their room for the night, the estate nearly deserted as they scoured the abandoned hallways. After a while, everyone agreed to take their chances and return to Penelope’s door, as a good hour passed since they last attempted. 

A voice called out to them as they made their way up the grand staircase. They turned around to see Landon making his way to them with a grin on his face. “Good evening, Your Majesty, Duchess, a pleasure to see you both. Are the two of you just strolling, or have you been out on the town?” He chuckled with a playful side eye directed at Leo. 

“You know me,” Leo smirked, “but actually, we’ve been looking for your daughter.” 

Landon’s smile faded, instead replaced with a perplexed expression. “What do you need from Penelope?”

Leo and Olivia shared a hesitant look. “Actually, it’s confidential… Do you know where she is?” 

“She said she was retiring to her room earlier.” 

Olivia spoke next. “We checked there. We checked everywhere and we have no clue where she’s at.” 

“Perhaps she’s already in slumber; she is quite the heavy sleeper. How about I come with you? I was headed there anyway, as she was acting fairly strange earlier.” 

“Strange how?” Leo asked. 

“She kept hugging her mother and me, and told us how much she loved us. She just seemed — sad, as if she would burst into tears at any moment. And she asked me to ensure Merlin and Morgana get plenty of treats.” Landon furrowed his brows and shook his head. “I asked her what she meant, and she just gave me another hug. Emmaline thinks she’s getting ready for her time of the month, which is why I came prepared.” He held up a wad of chocolate bars and laughed.

“I take it Merlin and Morgana are the poodles?”

“Oh, yes. They’re practically her children. It’s been hard on her to leave them at home, but she’s done fairly well. The unexpected route changes actually ended up being very beneficial to her, since she gets to be with them for a few days. I’m certain she’s going to have a hard time leaving again, but I know she appreciates getting to see them. When it was time to leave for the engagement tour, she was practically inconsolable; she didn’t want to leave, to the point we weren’t sure she would attend at all.” 

“So, she didn’t want to return, then?” Olivia inquired, hanging on his every word. 

Landon sighed and looked away. “I don’t believe so, no. But we made sure she knew how much of a tremendous opportunity this was for her. She was incredibly reluctant, but finally agreed. In all honesty, I think most of her reservations were regarding the fact that she was going so far away. Penelope is a very timid girl; she doesn’t particularly enjoy the crowds or being away from home. I’m confident staying in Cordonia where things are a little more familiar will turn things around for her; perhaps she will enjoy herself a bit.” 

“Right…” Olivia trailed off, as her mind swirled around these new little bits of information. She questioned if Penelope's reluctance to come back had to do with Riley's disappearance. The haunting look in Penelope’s eyes as that cab drove away told Olivia she could be correct. 

“Lead the way, then,” Leo inserted with a forced smile, as uneasiness crept into the pit of his stomach. The hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood at attention, an involuntary shudder traveling through his body; he shook it off and politely smiled at Landon, who returned the gesture before starting the journey.

Everyone strolled through the halls together and within a short time, they were nearing Penelope’s room once again. Leo and Landon made small talk along the way, but Olivia didn’t listen most of the time. A bad feeling rapidly grew as they walked; why, she wasn’t sure, but it was becoming impossible to ignore. As they got closer, the air suddenly felt cold, raising goosebumps on her skin and sending a shiver down her spine. The hallway had an eerie aura to it that was beyond explanation; judging from the cautious expressions of everyone around, Olivia knew her feelings were not in her head. Landon appeared to be the only one who didn’t notice the atmosphere shift, although he hadn’t stopped talking long enough to take in the environment. 

Just as they were about to arrive, they heard muffled voices speaking not far away. Olivia furrowed her brows and started walking faster, practically running, with Ray and Leo not far behind. 

She came to an abrupt stop as she saw a litter of guards standing outside of Penelope’s room; dressed in full riot gear with what she assumed to be loaded assault rifles, all appearing to be awaiting instructions. Standing toward the back of the mass of people was Liam, who was speaking with Bastien in hushed tones. She could tell even from afar he was talking sternly; his angry demeanor instantly drew Olivia to him. Drake lingered close-by, wearing an expression of pure confusion.

Olivia approached them and inquired, “What’s going on?” 

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you,” Liam replied. “Did you question Penelope?”

“We were looking for her, that’s why we’re here, now.”

“But you didn’t find her?” Liam snapped, not even trying to hide the annoyance in his tone. 

“Not yet…” Leo answered as he took in Liam’s tense shoulders and ticking jaw. “Liam, what is going on?” 

Before Liam could respond, Landon interjected himself. “What is the meaning of this?!” 

Liam took a deep breath to calm himself and spoke in a calm, yet authoritative voice. “Duke Landon, I understand this may be hard for you to hear, but we have to take Penelope into custody.”

“Custody?! On what grounds?!” Landon hollered. 

Liam swallowed down the ball of anger and agitation lodged in his throat and spoke in a flat voice. “She is the prime suspect in the murder of Rhonda Floros.” Everyone’s eyes widened as their jaws hit the floor. “We will investigate further, but she has to be detained until we can–” 

“I – what?! You have no proof! This – this is an injustice!” Landon yelled as he frantically paced in front of Penelope’s door. 

Leo hesitantly spoke in a hushed manner. “Li, all we knew about was the photographer. How can you jump to that conclusion?” 

“The forensics came back and Penelope’s prints were all over the murder weapon. Her DNA was on everything else as well, but I’m focused on that knife.”

“Impossible! There has to be some kind of mistake!” Landon pleaded. 

“I’m sorry Landon, but the forensics does not lie,” Liam replied with a sad smile. “Trust me, I don’t want to believe she could have done something like this and I intend to figure it out, but we have to locate her first!"

Landon quickly stepped toward Penelope’s room and pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “She is in here — I know she is; she’s sleeping. I’ll wake her up and we can figure out this mess together, because I know for certain she is innocent.” He spoke as he unlocked the door and turned the handle. He entered and flipped the switch on the wall, the area becoming illuminated. 

Liam motioned for the guards to stay outside and followed closely behind. Olivia entered next, followed by Ray. However, a stern hand on Ray’s chest halted him in the doorway. 

“You are unauthorized personnel,” Bastien snapped.  

Liam quickly intervened. “No, he’s not.” 

“Your Majesty, with all due respect, I entered his credentials myself. I know for a fact what clearances he has and doesn’t.” 

Liam stepped up to Bastien with narrowed eyes. “Poof.” He snapped his fingers. “I just gave him access. Now, step aside.” He growled through clenched teeth, the vein in his neck profusely popping out.  

To be honest, Liam was stalling until he found Ray and Olivia; the three of them were going to question Penelope together. His earlier worries about keeping his cool were well out the window; now he was simply confused. Why did she hire the photographer? Did she really kill that maid? Did Penelope know they had spoken to her? Every piece of random evidence found had Penelope’s DNA – and only hers – on it in some fashion. Although the legitimacy of the scene was still in question, her fingerprints on the murder weapon were more than enough to detain her for questioning. 

Bastien never once took his eyes off Ray during the entire interaction. Ray observed Bastien's face crack slightly and saw him swallow and clench his jaw when Liam commanded him to stop. He finally moved his hand to allow Ray entrance, but held his intent gaze for just a moment too long. Olivia watched and noted how she wasn’t stopped, nor Drake or Leo — only Ray. She couldn’t help but wonder why Bastien didn’t want him specifically there. 

Liam glanced around as he entered and saw no signs of Penelope and nothing raising any kind of alarm. He’d never been inside this room before, but to the naked eye, not a thing was out of place. However, Liam couldn’t deny the sudden chill he felt as he stepped over the threshold. His skin instantly clammed up, and his heart rate increased substantially with every tense second that passed. 

Everyone else followed behind and did the same, but Landon circled the room while frantically calling Penelope’s name, only to get no response. He ducked into the bathroom to check there, but saw no traces of his daughter. Everything appeared just as it was earlier that morning when he personally prepared everything for Penelope’s arrival.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Landon huffed as he reemerged. “She said she was coming to bed. Where else would she go? Should we contact Lady Kiara? They had grown quite close.”

Liam sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Bastien, send someone to Lady Kiara’s room to check.” His patience with this situation was dissipating. An answer was right there dangling in front of his face; he could practically taste it. Even if he had to turn the entire continent upside down, Liam was going to find Penelope and make her answer for her part in this mess — whatever that could have been. 

“Yes, sir.”

Olivia glanced at the dresser and saw a jewelry box. Something on top of it quickly caught her attention; it was a piece of paper neatly folded with the words read me written on it in red ink. Her breaths immediately stopped as she stared at it for a long moment. Goosebumps raised on her skin as she realized the penmanship was strikingly familiar.  

She slowly reached out and brought it closer; Ray noticed and came to stand beside her to see what she had found. Liam and Landon continued to speak on the other side of the room, completely unaware of their discovery. Olivia carefully unfolded the sheet and quickly scanned over the contents. As she started reading, the color suddenly drained from her face, her hands trembling, and even tears were forming in the corners of her eyes. Her mind instantly started spiraling, trying to decipher what this meant.

Olivia and Ray stood gawking at the paper in a trance for an unidentified amount of time. The sound of Landon’s thunderous voice suddenly brought both out of their dazes. “This is absurd! She did nothing wrong!” 

“I understand your frustrations but as I said before, the forensics does not lie,” Liam answered in the calmest tone he could muster. “I have questions about all of this, Landon! But one way or another her DNA was littered–”

“Bullshit! Run the tests again! Something is going on here!” 

Liam winced at Landon’s volume, but shook it off and stood to his full height. “Duke Ebrim, you’d do well to remember who you’re speaking to and watch your tone. While I understand why you’re upset, I’m only here to figure this out. If you want to clear her name, help us find her so we can speak to her!” 

Landon frantically looked throughout the room, desperately trying to make sense of what was happening. At that moment, they heard a bark, followed by another softer cry; everyone suddenly stilled and an eerie silence took over, as they glanced at one another with furrowed brows. It sounded undeniably close, but there were obviously no dogs in the area. The silence in the air was deafening, but then it happened again and Landon finally pinpointed the location — the closet. It would make sense; Penelope heard the commotion and retreated in there with her poodles to hide because she was afraid. 

Landon made a bee-line for the door and wildly swung it open. He took a step back and two fluffy dogs slowly came out with their heads down, causing Landon to take a few steps back; they laid at Landon’s feet and whimpered. 

“What is it, Merlie?” Landon asked as he rubbed one of the dogs’ heads, their howls intensifying. 

The room’s air suddenly felt incredibly thick at the interaction. Liam felt physically sick to his stomach as recognition swept over him from head to toe — something was waiting for them in that closet. His hands shook at his sides, his breathing shaky and uneven as he stared into the dark, open doorway. 

Landon stepped over the poodles, who went and lay on the bed, but continued whining. As he entered, he ran a hand along the wall until he found the switch. The small area came to light, and his worst nightmare suddenly became reality right in front of his face. 

“NO!” Landon wailed at an ear-piercing volume as he dropped to his knees near the doorway. 

“What’s wrong?” Liam sought, but Landon broke into a fit of sobs and crumpled to the floor. 

Liam swallowed thickly and took a couple of cautious steps forward. Olivia suddenly appeared and tried to redirect him, but Liam was steadfast; whatever it was, he needed to see it for himself. As he got closer, he could see a chair lying on its side. His eyesight started on the floor and slowly traveled upward. He hadn’t made it very far before the color drained from his face with sweat immediately beading his brow at seeing a pair of dainty feet dangling in the air; one heel on, the other nowhere to be seen. 

Liam looked away but with a shuddered breath followed the body back up to the face, and sure enough, it was Penelope.

Landon suddenly shoved Liam out of the way. “MOVE!” He rushed over and held Penelope’s lifeless form, lifting her easily with one hand; the other quickly moving to remove the belt from around her severely bruised neck. Her limp body dropped into his arms and he cradled her to his chest as he rocked back and forth, making cries that would haunt Liam until the day he died. 

Liam regained his footing but remained cemented in place. This was it; this was their big break, but they only received more unanswered questions. Hopelessness flourished, as he saw no other solutions in sight. He felt like a mouse, mindlessly running through a maze just trying to reach the end for the reward. Penelope's testimony was that reward, but instead of finding the end of the maze, he encountered a sudden, abrupt wall.

Regardless of their actions, they faced a grim reality where a devastating setback countered every advance they made; one step forward, only to be met with two deadly steps back.

Liam suddenly couldn’t breathe; his lungs felt like fire with every rapid, hollow breath. The room started spinning, his vision hazing at a rapid rate. His heart pounded mercilessly, the sound overpowering Landon’s continuous wails filling the room. His hands flew to his chest and he stumbled backward, Leo and Drake quickly moving to catch him before he hit the floor. 

They lowered him to the ground and sat over him as Liam’s vision slowly faded out, their faces disintegrating into a pixelated, blurry image. He blinked his eyes a few times to regain himself, but found the rapidly spinning room made him nauseous. He felt Leo lightly tapping his cheeks, but when he tried to open his mouth, only an anguished cry escaped. 

Liam stared at the ceiling until the bright lights suddenly dimmed. His eyelids grew incredibly heavy until he succumbed to the weight of the world forcing them down. Darkness consumed him as he slipped into unconsciousness, a still silence overcoming his being. 

"Goddamn it," Leo grumbled to himself, as he watched Liam’s body relax. "Get a fucking ambulance! Now!" He hollered over his shoulder before his teary vision centered on his brother again. "Cummon, Li..."

Tags (if you'd like to be added or removed, please let me know): @choicesficwriterscreations @ao719 @txemrn @imashybish @queenrileyrose

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[bebepac]

Traditions

This is a special holiday edition of School Dayz. To catch up on the series in general please click School Dayz

I am participating in @choicesdecember2023 for Christmas

I am also participating in @choicesprompts holiday rewrite challenge in which I used the candy cane gram scene from Mean Girls.

I am also participating in @choicesflashfics christmas prompt # 59: "Ice-skating? Do you seriously trust me with knives on my feet?" will appear in bold. I also used a previous prompt as well Are you seeing this too or am I having a stroke?

Series: School Dayz

The Book: TRR (no royals)

The Pairings: Liam x Riley

Word Count: 1464

Warnings and Ratings: None. This is for anyone who has eyes. A total fluff piece.

Original post: 12/31/23 at 7:15PM EST.

Science class was different for me now that I no longer sat next to Liam, and shared a table with my sister, since Mrs. Barbour decided to make the class sit in alphabetical order, which I think the only reason for the change was to make taking roll easier. I glanced across the room to Liam whose partner was now Rashad.

My adorkable boyfriend who caught me watching him, smiled and held up his hot cocoa cup to toast me from across the room. Liam was the sweetest boyfriend and stopped by the local coffee shop Brew Bros and always got hot chocolate every morning the way that I liked it.

So I smiled while holding up my cup.

“Oh my God, can you two be any more nerdy?” Taylor asked.

“He’s nice, and you reap the benefits of it too. My boyfriend brings us both hot chocolate, or in your case a coffee drink you like every day without us asking.”

Taylor cocked her head to the side and air toasted Liam, taking a sip from her drink when the door opened.

“Ho , Ho, Ho!!!!! Candy Cane Grams, sponsored by the National Honor Society.”

“Make it quick, Santa.” There was a hint of sarcasm in Mrs. Barbour’s voice as she went to sit at her desk for a moment.

“And his lovely assistant Max Noel!”

“Wait… a sec… Are you seeing this too or am I having a stroke?”

Taylor doubled over in laughter “It is!!!! It’s Drake Walker-Claus.”

Taylor’s laugh seemed to antagonize Drake for a second, but good thing he had his assistant Maxwell. His brooding mood was offset by Max Noel making the class laugh with his dance versions of Christmas music as he followed around the room behind him.

“Hana Lee one for you.”

“Chris Powell four for you, you go Chris Powell!”

“Do we have a Riley Brooks here?”

“That’s her Max Noel. She’s Riley Brooks and looks nothing like the girl sitting next to her. Those two can’t possibly be related.”

“Riley Brooks here you go, one for you.”

“Thank you Santa.”

“Um….”

“And nothing at all for Taylor Brooks, not even coal or black licorice, bye.”

Drake and Max ran out of the room.

Taylor looked at me with curious eyes at the candy cane gram in my hand.

“Who’s that from?”

It wasn’t any of her business. I opened the envelope and read silently to myself.

Liam’s sweet words made me smile, and I didn’t have to answer her, and I looked at him from across the room.

“Oh my god. You guys are too much.”

Taylor looked upset, even though she shrugged it off. Later I found out why at her locker.

“I told you to get me a candy cane gram Nico!!!!”

“Well you telling me to do it, takes the surprise out of it. Me not doing it, guess what you were surprised weren’t you?”

My sister who was always loud looked at him and said nothing.

Before I knew it the words flew out of my mouth.

“Wow, you’re a really bad boyfriend Nico, my sister deserves better than you.”

I slammed my locker walking away from the two of them. I found out later that day, my sister broke up with him, in front of everyone in true dramatic Taylor fashion. I was proud of her.

Christmas Eve

Everyone had come over and was enjoying mom’s Christmas cookies and snacks. My dad brought in a big box sitting it down on the floor.

“I want to thank everyone for coming over tonight to spend time with our family. Our children picked people they care about to spend this time together with you. Ren and I are happy to have you in our home. We both grew up in the foster care system, and learned early in life, sometimes the people that care about you most, are not your blood relatives. So we try to celebrate that.”

“And when we had the opportunity to open our home up to two adorable identical twin girls, we couldn’t say no.” My mother chimed in.

“It’s the best decision they ever made. I went to sleep one night wishing I had a little sister. The next morning I woke up with two.” Jaiden spoke up.

“And we know what it’s like to be alone on Christmas, or missing someone special on Christmas that you were once close to. So we wanted to do something special. Liam would you mind sharing the Christmas Eve tradition you had that you told me about?”

“Christmas was my Mom’s favorite holiday. Every Christmas Eve that I can remember she’d dress us up in these ugly Christmas sweaters

and we would go ice skating on Lake Pine. She loved to ice skate. Then she’d make us take these dorky pictures in our Christmas sweaters that matched. I miss her a lot.”

“I miss her too. I’m not adopted, but Liam’s Mom always made me feel like I was her son too. So I really get what you’re saying about family not always being blood related. She was my mom too.”

Liam hugged his brother.

My dad opened the box.

“With a little help from Riley I found some what I would think are hideously awesome ugly Christmas sweaters, and am secretly happy for your love of Star Trek too. I’m sorry Liam, you can’t be the Captain, this is mine. But this one is yours.”

“Well if I can’t be Captain, being the science officer is the next best and most logical choice.” Liam took his blue sweater graciously.

“That’s what I said! Dad please say you got me a blue sweater too.”

“I did.”

After all the sweaters were handed out, there was still one left in the box.

“Guess you guys bought this before I broke up with Nico. No big deal.”

Once everyone was dressed, they headed out to the vehicles, and Liam stuffed the extra shirt into Leo’s trunk.

“I really don’t know how this is going to go Liam.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ice skating? Do you seriously trust me with knives on my feet?”

“Well good thing you’re not just Riley Brooks today, you’re the science officer for the USS Enterprise. Live long and prosper.”

Liam expected Riley to be as horrible on ice skates as she had been on roller skates, but Riley amazingly was incredibly balanced.

“Have you ice skated before?”

“No! I don’t know how I'm good at this! I usually have no natural balance.”

“You’re a natural at skating…”

“Ice skating. Let's clarify that.”

Taylor was still sitting on the bench watching the couples skate by. “She still hasn’t gotten out on the ice yet. I think she’s feeling lonely and the extra shirt probably made her think of Nico.”

Liam’s phone beeped. “Why don’t you go sit with her for a little bit, and I’ll be back in a few with some hot cocoas for us all.”

“Is cocoa your favorite drink?”

“Yes, and my mom used to always say your heart won’t feel cold if you always have a nice warm cup of cocoa. It always makes me feel better.”

I went to sit with Taylor and Liam continued walking toward the concessions stand.

“You okay?” I asked Taylor.

“I just don’t feel like skating, and look over there.”

Nico was there, with another girl on his arm.

“To be honest I never liked him Taylor. He called you T, like you were a drink or a shirt or something. He wasn’t even really that nice. Good riddance, I say.”

“I never thanked you for standing up for me that day Riley. It really meant a lot.”

“You’re my sister Taylor. I will always have your back, even when you pull me into a tornado.”

“Not on purpose!” She laughed.

“Oh it never is.” I remarked pulling Taylor closer to me in a hug. After a few seconds she pulled away from me.

“What are you doing here?”

“Helping Liam deliver hot cocoa. This one is yours.

I don’t like all the extra stuff in mine.”

Drake handed Taylor her cocoa, as he sat down next to her.

“Just hot and cocoa pretty much then right?”

“Exactly. I’m not that difficult to understand.”

“Do you like to ice skate, Drake?”

“Like it? It’s okay, but I can. Would you like to skate Taylor?”

Drake took off his coat wearing the remaining ugly sweater.

“Okay.” Taylor said in a nonchalant voice.

Taylor’s mood picked up immediately as she skated around with Drake on the ice. She never once glanced in Nico’s direction.

“That was really nice of you to do Liam.”

“He really does like her, you know. Maybe now she can finally see him with Nico out the way.”

“You’re so adorkably sweet Liam.”

“I know Riley, I know.”

[uselessgay10101]

~Dance under the rainbow~

[camillemontespan]

the best mistake he never had [drake x Camille AU]

‘It was a mistake. A massive, drunken mistake.’

Why had he said that to her? Why had he gone out of his way to make her feel as low as possible? What was wrong with him?

Drake Walker sat propped up at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey. He had been thinking back over his actions, his shitty actions, feeling regret as always.

He hadn't meant it.

If anything, being with her had been a revelation. He had meant that it had been more of a mistake for Camille

Fuck, the more he thought about it, the more he remembered every single shitty thing he had said.

‘This wasn't supposed to turn out this way… I'm not cut out for this… This has fucked up everything…’

Camille had stared at him with hurt in her eyes as he kept digging himself a hole. When he had realised that he had gone too far, she was standing apart from him, her body rigid and her face set like stone.

She had left abruptly after that. He hadn't heard from her for weeks. Until that day when she appeared at his front door and looked him straight in the eyes.

‘I’m leaving,’ she had told him, her voice cracking.

He had blinked in confusion. ‘You’re.. what?’

Camille cleared her throat, clearly fighting to be strong despite the fact her heart was breaking.

‘I’m leaving,’ she repeated. ‘I’m moving to New York. Fresh start.’

Drake stared at her. He could feel the rush of guilt envelop him. He cast his eyes down to see the suitcase beside her on the porch. The slow realisation dawned on him that she wasn't fucking around.

‘Camille..’ he said, his voice wavering. ‘Please don't go. Please.’

She shook her head. ‘You made it clear that night that what we did was a mistake-’

‘That’s no reason to leave!’ Drake burst out. ‘New York is hours away! What if I wanted-’

‘Wanted WHAT?’ Camille interrupted, her voice raised. ‘Wanted to change your mind?’

Drake swallowed. He cast his eyes down and then looked back at her, wishing he knew what to say.

‘Do you want to change your mind?’ Camille asked in a small voice. She sounded almost hopeful.

Drake's eyes flicked from Camille's face down to her stomach. He couldn't see any signs yet.

‘Camille..’ he murmured. ‘I can't.’

Camille's fingers clenched around the handle of the suitcase. She raised her chin and gone was the hope in her eyes.

‘I came here to give you a second chance,’ she told him. ‘I thought if I came here and told you I was leaving, you might realise that this is it. This is your moment-’

‘Not everyone wants to be a parent, Camille,’ Drake cut in, deliberately making his voice cold.

‘I know that,’ Camille said, ‘But I thought.. knowing it's yours.. you might think differently.’

Drake knew what he needed to do. He needed to change her mind. Make her realise that coming here was her biggest mistake. Even if it hurt him too. ‘You thought wrong.’

She stepped back like she'd been pushed. ‘Okay..’ she whispered softly. ‘Okay, Drake. Have it your way.’

Drake kept his back ramrod straight and kept his eyes focused ahead, trying to avoid looking at her for too long. He couldn't crack.

‘This is going to be the biggest mistake you've ever made,’ Camille croaked. Tears were filling her eyes now. ‘Maybe not right now but years from now, you're going to regret this.’

Drake pressed his lips together. ‘You don't get to dictate how I live my life,’ he finally said. ‘Respect my wishes.’

Camille looked down and nodded. ‘Bye Drake,’ she said. She took her suitcase and pulled it harshly down the porch steps behind her.

She left Drake standing on the porch and that was the last time he had seen her.

And now, nine months later, he was sitting at this bar, his usual haunt, drinking his usual whiskey, feeling like his usual shitty self.

His mother, Bianca, had been the one to break the news to him that morning. She had heard from Camille's grandmother, Gisele, and felt it was her duty to tell him.

Camille had given birth to Drake's baby.

A daughter.

Drake had a baby girl.

****************

FIVE YEARS LATER

‘Okay, honey, do you have your scarf?’

‘Yes!’

‘Gloves?’

‘In my pocket!’

Camille was bundling her daughter, Lily, out of the door, making sure that she was ready for school. They were running late and Camille was cursing herself that she hadn't just let Lily wear her favourite tutu. Instead, she had spent ten minutes coaxing Lily to wear something more suitable for the wintery conditions outside, such as a fuzzy sweater, fleece lined leggings, snow boots and her pink glitter raincoat.

Lily was Camille's double. She had the same dark hair and brown eyes with gold flecks. The same pixie nose.

She had her dad's smirk that she used whenever she was trying to get her way.

Camille took Lily's hand and together, they dashed through the snow, Lily skidding as she went.

As they rushed through the streets, Lily told Camille all about how she was excited to do Show and Tell.

‘I’m going to bring in my snail,’ Lily told her. ‘He’s so slimy!’

‘Will Miss Lee want a snail in her classroom?’ Camille asked, urging Lily to cross the road with her.

‘Yes!’ Lily trilled. ‘She even asked what his names is!’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Steve!’

Lily had also inherited her dad's love of the outdoors and nature. Hours she spent in the little communal garden of the apartment building they lived in, watching the wildlife, trying to find the perfect pet.

The two of them carried on rushing through the streets of Soho until twenty minutes later, they reached Lily's school just before the bell rang.

Camille crouched down to face Lily. They quickly did their ‘Lily and Mommy’ secret handshake which involved a series of hand gestures which ended with a kiss.

‘Love you, honey,’ Camille whispered in her ear. ‘Have the best day.’

Lily grinned. ‘You too mommy.’

*******************

Camille arrived at work swept off her feet.

‘God, finally!’ Olivia greeted her, placing a cup of coffee on her desk. ‘Any later and I've had to call in special favours for our presentation this morning.’

Camille winced. She sat down on her chair and quickly pulled her snow boots off, replacing them with the nude Manolo stilettos she kept in her drawer. ‘Sorry, Liv. I'm here now! Ready to present my ass off.’

Olivia gave her a wink. ‘All good, babe. Late night?’

Camille sighed. ‘Lily wanted to wear a tutu instead of something more suitable for the snow. Took ten minutes trying to convince her, common sense over fashion eventually won out.’

Olivia rolled her eyes. ‘You’re such a kill joy.’

‘Can’t have her freezing to death..’ Camille muttered before taking a welcome sip of coffee.

Olivia studied Camille for a moment. ‘I’m sorry babe, but again, I have to ask. Where's Lily's shithead dad in all of this?’

‘Texas,’ Camille sighed.

She knew she was in for another of Olivia's lectures. They were best friends even though they were polar opposites.

‘I know he didn't want anything to do with Lily,’ Olivia said quietly, ‘but come on. You do so much. You've had to take reduced hours so you can see her after school and spend the evenings with her. You're always rushed off your feet making sure she wears actual clothes instead of ballerina tutus. You haven't been on a date in five years -’

‘That’s just the way I like it,’ Camille cut in. ‘I don't want to date. I don't want random guys viewing my daughter as baggage. She's the love of my life and that's that.’

End of conversation.

Camille never regretted leaving Texas. She never regretted uprooting her entire life. She never regretted being a single mother.

When she had found out she was pregnant, Camile had been scared, sure. But she had also been certain.

Lots of women didn't want kids. Camille was always of the mindset ‘you do you.’ Live life the way you choose.

But Camille had always wanted kids. Losing her mother at a young age had instilled in her this ache for a family, no matter how small. She just wanted someone to love. She had so much love to give and having Lily had been the best thing that had ever happened to her.

When Drake had told her that he didn't want to be father, that he wasn't cut out for the role.. it had hurt her. She understood that lots of men didn't want children. But he had been so harsh with her. So cold. It was like he had deliberately tried his best to hurt her feelings.

Walking away from Drake was a decision Camille never regretted. Having his baby was a decision she never regretted.

Because Camille lived her life exactly the way she wanted to. She never wanted to have regrets.

******************

Camille finished work at 3pm so she could pick up Lily from school. As they walked home, Lily chattered about her day and how much she liked her teacher.

She was a happy child. Always bursting with vitality, she was a social butterfly and curious about everything.

Lily had only asked Camille twice about her daddy. Wondered why only she and a boy in her class called Luke didn't have one.

‘Because we're meant to be a family of two,’ Camille told her truthfully. ‘Nobody gets inside our little circle.’

That was how they worked. How they viewed their life together. Camille and Lily against the world.

Their little circle of two.

**************

That evening, Camille was cooking spaghetti while Lily played on the kitchen floor with her Barbie doll. She rarely strayed from Camille’s side.

The phone rang. Lily jumped up to take it off the hook and said in her most polite voice, ‘Montespan residence!’

She blinked and looked up at Camille who was crossing the kitchen to take the phone.

‘Mommy, it's a lady called Bianca?’

Camille’s blood ran cold.

Drake's mom.

******************

Camille quickly took the phone and cleared her throat. She hadn't spoken to Bianca Walker for years. If she wasn't her grandmother's neighbour, Camille would have happily washed her hands of Drake and the rest of his family.

‘Hi Bianca,’ she greeted her. ‘Everything okay?’

Bianca sounded nervous. ‘Hey, sweetie.. how are you?’

‘I’m good, you?’

Camille really didn't want to talk to Bianca. She didn't want to hear a Texas accent.

‘It’s your grandmother,’ Bianca said. ‘She’s not well. I.. I think you should come home.’

Camille felt her heart drop. Not her grandma.

Gisele had supported Camille in her decision to leave Texas. Of course, she would have loved to help Camille raise baby Lily but she also knew her granddaughter did not want to live in the same town as Drake Walker.

Gisele would visit twice a year. One week during the summer and one week in the winter. It wasn't much but Camille didn't want Gisele travelling far in her old age.

‘How long has she been bad?’ Camille asked quietly, taking care not to alarm Lily.

‘About a month,’ Bianca told her. ‘She hasn't been right. Frail. Not her usual energetic self. You know how she is.’

Gisele Montespan was, quite simply, fabulous. She was French and loved treating herself to the luxurious things in life. She was confident and witty, never taking any shit. She never saved anything for a special occasion. For Gisele, life was the special occasion.

‘We’ll be back as soon as we can,’ Camille decided. ‘I’ll speak to Lily's teacher, see if she can send through online learning.’

There was an awkward silence until Bianca broke it.

‘How is she?’

Camille swallowed. Bianca had never met her granddaughter.

‘She’s great,’ Camille said simply.

‘Camille, please can I see her? I know Drake didn't want a part of it but I always did and that has never changed-’

‘No,’ Camille interrupted. ‘I’m sorry Bianca. It's not you. It's just I don't want things to get complicated. It's only us, the two of us. Anyone new will make it all… jumbled and confused.’

Bianca sighed. ‘Okay honey. But I'm here if you need me. If Lily needs me. You're both my family, regardless of what my son thinks.’

The call ended not long after that. As Lily continued to play with her Barbie, Camille thought about taking her to Texas.

She needed to see Gisele.

Hopefully Camille wouldn't see Drake. She hoped he would have moved but something told her that he was doing exactly the same thing as he was five years ago. Drake was a creature of habit.

If she bumped into Drake, she would make sure that he would not get to know Lily. He made his decision five years ago that he didn't want to be part of Lily's life.

Camille was just respecting Drake's wishes, exactly as he had told her to.

[ao719]

….Sometimes Not (Part 1)

Until We Meet Again

This is a submission for @choicesflashfics, using prompt #2, Maybe there's another universe where we have the happy ending we always wanted. I’m also participating in @choiceschallenge-may2023​ with the prompts: seeing an old friend/love | first love | ex-crush/lover

Song inspo: Who Knew - James Bradshaw

A/N: Thank you @burnsoslow for prereading! Please excuse any errors.  

Book/Pairing: TRR; Liam x OC

Rating: T • Warnings: None but some mild language.

Word count: 1544

The city felt unusually quiet as Liam slowly walked along the concrete barrier between the sidewalk and the river. Dusk had fallen, and a brief but heavy rain earlier left the pavement reflecting the lights from the lampposts lining his path as he mindlessly strolled … lost in thoughts of her.

The ruminations were nothing new. Liam stopped fighting them a while ago after years of guilt for having them at all. Now, he welcomed them like an old companion. Unfortunately, they were all he had left of her and what they once shared.

It had been three years since Liam last saw her, standing in front of him as broken and defeated as he was. Three years since he last held her in his embrace as he begged her not to cry. Three years since he last heard her voice as it broke when she uttered those final words and walked away from him.

Liam had never loved anyone the way he loved her, and he knew he never would. They fell into each other and their feelings for one another headfirst, blissfully unaware of how drastically and swiftly things would change for them … between them. Neither one had seen it coming. How could they? If someone had told him back then where he — where they — would be now, he’d never have believed it. Not them. Not with what they shared.

Things did change, however. They parted ways, heartbroken and embittered about the cards they had been dealt, and continued down separate paths neither had ever imagined them going … paths that led to lives without each other. All that remained now was a chasm between them.

------

Liam ended up marrying, not for love as he’d always hoped, but for duty, because he didn’t have a choice. It was a marriage of convenience, but one he thought with time, effort, and patience had the potential to possibly flourish into something more. He truly thought that maybe — just maybe — someday he might grow to feel something beyond the arrangement that was made.

In the beginning, it was hard, knowing what he had to let go of in order to stand a chance at making his marriage work, but his wife seemed more than willing to be patient with him, telling him that despite the feelings she had that may or may not be requited, they would be friends if nothing else, companions to share the weight and responsibilities of duty. The ring he wore served as a constant reminder of the vows he made to try and move on, vows he made to build some semblance of a happy life, vows he kept his word for because a promise was a promise.

------

Liam tried not to think about her, but most of the time he couldn’t help it; she’d sneak into his thoughts like she belonged there. The littlest things would remind him of her, of their history, of everything they shared. And he’d felt nothing but guilt when he’d find himself lost in his musings and memories; he would silently berate and punish himself for it and force them away. He asked for no updates on her life despite those close to him who had them readily available and would be more than happy to tell him should he wish to know. He told himself it was easier that way, to not know where she was and what she was doing, to not know anything about the life she was living without him. And he told himself not knowing would make it easier to maybe one day build his marriage into something more. He’d only fallen upon an update on her life once in these past three years, and it was by complete accident … and it shattered the remnants of his heart to nothingness when he did.

And from there, everything Liam had been trying to build seemed to fall apart. He was painfully reminded — whether it be about love, friendship, or both — that sometimes forever doesn’t necessarily mean forever.

------

Despite Liam’s best efforts, the only thing that came from his marriage was hurt, betrayal, and loss, and it had come from all directions, places he never expected. From the very beginning, that ring he wore was nothing but a circle of lies and deceit that rested heavily on his finger until the day he slipped it off for good.

Liam didn’t feel free, however.

No, he was no longer a prisoner in what turned out to be a sham of a marriage and camaraderie, but he was a prisoner of his own mind.

Liam was held hostage by the what-ifs, by the what-could-have-beens. He was held hostage by the three years he felt were wasted with another that could have been better spent with her, mending things; it was time he’d never get back. He was held hostage by his constant thoughts of her, thoughts that he allowed to flood him freely again without any guilt. And he was held hostage most of all by the love he still clung to, love that he would always feel for her, love that he allowed himself to feel again despite the ache it filled his chest with because of who they were now: strangers.

Liam hoped that she found life easier than he had. He hoped that she was happy because it was nothing less than she deserved. Despite the paths their lives had taken the last three years — far away from one another — he missed her; he missed everything about her and what they once shared, something he knew he would never find with anyone else. And he missed the life they could have had. The moments they lost. The memories they missed out on making and sharing together.

To Liam, even after all this time, they had felt so unfinished, quiescent … the ink still as the pen lay sleeping. Though, he supposed things with her would always feel that way.

Because it was her.

Maybe there’s another universe where we have the happy ending we always wanted, Liam thought to himself. They wouldn’t get it in this lifetime, but perhaps somewhere, there were versions of themselves that would make it in the end.

As Liam continued his lackluster stroll in an attempt to ease the thoughts in his mind, knowing he would never truly clear it, he glanced up and his pace slowed to a stop. His eyes fell on that familiar spot and despite the tightening in his throat, a wistful smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he dipped his hands into his pockets.

The memory floated to the forefront of Liam’s mind as if it happened yesterday; he could still hear her laugh and smell the faint scent of sandalwood and white peony that clung to her skin that night.

Liam cleared his throat as it faded and he remained lingering just beyond the foot of the bridge. He took a slow step, then another, and a few more, until he found himself standing on wooden planks above the Seine. His eyes shifted and began scanning the clusters of locks that hung from the wrought iron grill of the railing.

As he searched, Liam pulled the memory of that night back into his mind, trying to use it as a map in an attempt to locate the spot they had chosen. They had no idea back then how things would change, but perhaps that’s why he felt the need to find it so badly. Here, somewhere, there was a piece of them. A piece of their story and their history … a piece of their innocence laced with a now long-forgotten promise, one they made before they learned how unexpected and cruel life could sometimes be.

With his tall frame slightly hunched at an angle, Liam continued to scan, his focus zeroed in on finding that lock. Suddenly, he felt his shoulder hit something followed by clatters and clangs on the wooden planks of the bridge; he was startled upward but his eyes immediately dropped to a woman’s purse now on the ground in front of him.

“I am so sorry,” they said in unison as they both quickly dropped into a crouch and began reaching to pick up the contents that had spilled from her purse. “No, it was my fault.”

Liam’s entire body went rigid once he registered the sound of her voice over his own; he’d recognize it anywhere, not only from the countless dreams he’d had of it but from having committed it to memory. He slowly looked up at the same moment she did and his surprised gaze met hers; he swallowed thickly as a soft breath escaped her.

The three years since he’d last seen her had changed nothing; she was just as he remembered her, the way he’d always seen her, a paragon of beauty and warmth. Her caramel brown hair fell in loose curls over her shoulders, gently rustling against her skin from the soft dusk breeze, and her amber eyes sparkled under the dim lights of the bridge as the familiar scent of sandalwood and white peony lightly perfumed the air between them.

They held one another’s gaze, Liam not daring to blink.

“… Jinx.”

***************************************

If you don’t know from that last line, lol, this is an AU miniseries to my Always You story. Here is the ask that I received 2 years ago:

So, everything in the original AY storyline happened here in this AU up until chapter 17.

Perma Tags (if you’d like to be added or removed for this story, please let me know): @zaffrenotes​ @cocomaxley​ @emichelle​ @sweetest-marbear​ @indiacater​ @gibbles82​ @the-soot-sprite​ @esmckenzie​ @dcbbw​ @burnsoslow​ @deb-1106​ @bbrandy2002​ @txemrn​ @charlotteg234​ @kat-tia801​ @neotericthemis​ @foreverethereal123​ @choiceskatie​ @sirbeepsalot​ @gnatbrain​ @openheart12​ @sincerelyella​ @superharriet​ @queenrileyrose​ @aestheticartsx​ @kingliam2019​ @indiana-jr​ @bascmve01​ @rainbowsinthestorm​ @emkay512​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​ @forallthatitsworth​ @walker7519​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @amandablink​ @mainstreetreader​ @mom2000aggie​ @princessleac1​ @21-wishes​ @appleone​ @tessa-liam​ @pixelatedpassion​ @malblk21​ @queen-arabella-of-cordonia​ @lovingchoices14​ @nestledonthaveone​ @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @nomadics-stuff​ @differenttyphoonwerewolf​

[txemrn]

Déjà Vu

Chapter 1

Series Summary: After an unforgettable night with a stranger, Princess Eleanor finds herself caught in a secret love triangle between a noble and a commoner.

Chapter Summary: Eleanor prepares for a night out with her best friends despite her mother's wishes for her to attend a special family dinner.

Pairing(s): Liam x Riley (in discussion); more to be revealed

Word Count: ~2740

Warning: 🔞 Mature Audiences Only 🔞 this chapter references drinking; brief language

A/N: Welcome to my Crack Fic! No one asked for this... at least no one of sound mind, and if you're a big fan of TRR, you might actually hate this (no, I'm not killing Liam!). When I pitched this idea (half-joking, half-serious) to some buddies after reading the book Birthday Girl by Penelope Douglas, the eager encouragement I normally receive was met with (what's that TikTok trend with that T Swift song?) "horrified looks from everyone in the room". But... I could not get this idea out of my head. So, here we are! I have a general idea of where this story is going... but I'm actually leaving myself open to possibilities. No matter how the road twists and turns, I would be honored if you join me!

A/N 2: This story takes place approximately 2 decades after TRR/TRH. I have made some canonical changes (they will be mentioned). Characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry! Huge thank you to @charlotteg234 for looking over this for me (and laughing like a maniac with me)! This was not Beta'd; please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

Eleanor

Tapping my newly manicured nails against the glass topper to my vanity, my gaze nervously shifts back and forth between my choices for the evening. I don’t know why this is so hard–or why it’s taking me this long to decide–but somehow, here I am in quite the conundrum.

Perversion or Temptress: that’s it. But, when it came to darkening the outer-corner of my eyelid, picking the right hue of eyeshadow matters. Yes, yes, they’re both a deep black; one is a dark matte that has the potential to smudge all over my porcelain face, but the other one, while dark, has little flecks of silver.

Biting my lip, I look at myself in the mirror before looking back at the YouTube tutorial I was following.  I feel silly making such a big deal over the color; afterall, this is supposed to be fun. Normally, for me, it is.  I’m actually really good at doing my own make-up, thanks to the internet and to my mother who convinced my father when I was fourteen that mascara and lipstick would not lead me down the path of destruction and eternal damnation.

Well, I guess I should clarify: I do a great job on my make-up, my everyday natural, diplomatically poised look. Think lots of pinks and taupes. It’s the latest trend for crown princesses; I should know.

But tonight, I wouldn’t be Princess Eleanor. I didn’t want to be Princess Eleanor. 

Dangit, that came out wrong. I don’t mean to sound like some stereotypical spoiled brat that is born into money and power, who craves freedom from her poor little privileged life.  I am content–actually, very grateful for the life I have been born into. I have been given incredible opportunities and experiences because of it. But, I’m not naive; I know I have a high-calling, one filled with much responsibility and dedication. Someday I will be queen of Cordonia.

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves... 

Tonight, I’m just Nora–at least that’s what my friends call me, and since I’m turning twenty this coming Tuesday, they wanted to take me out over the weekend. This weekend. See? Responsible. But, there is just one problem…

There’s a sudden knock on my door, my mother instantly inviting herself in.  “Dinner’s in thirty Eleanor–”  she freezes as her eyes grow wide. “Y–you’re make-up… don’t you think it’s a bit on the, um… heavy-side?”

“Mom,” I singsong, "it's supposed to be. This is how all the celebrities and models wear their make-up when they hit the town." 

"Hit the town?" My mother gave me that eyebrow, the one that gives away her true unspoken feelings. "You're going out tonight?"

"Mhmm. To dinner." I settle on Urban Decay's Perversion, and start tapping the color against my eyelid. "I told you and Daddy that Josie and Beth were taking me out–"

"Eleanor," my mom shot her first warning signal with her tone. "We discussed that tonight wasn't a good night. And if you ladies could do things tomorrow–"

"It's just a family dinner," I continue to work on my look. "Daddy said it was fine–"

"But you know how important this dinner is. We have a special guest."

Yes, yes. We know.

His name is Drake Walker, and he is–well, was, my parent's best friend back in the day before I was born. He actually grew up with my dad, Drake's father serving as my Grandpa Rys's royal guard when he was king of Cordonia.

But, then there was a falling out of some sort…well, that's according to my Uncle Leo. He means well, but I'm fairly certain the truth has been stretched.

Anyway, I'm not too clear on what happened, but shortly after my parents got married, Drake moved back to his home in America to start a normal life. He never settled down with a wife, but he kept busy with his construction company.

That is until four months ago when he discovered his business partner had been siphoning company funds into off-shore accounts. Now he spends his days laid up on the couch with a fifth of whiskey. And broke as a joke.

Drake's brother-in-law Bertrand Beaumont, the Duke of Ramsford, serves on the royal council with my parents, and after a late meeting one night, he shared the truth about their former best friend. 

Daddy and his bleeding heart… sure, he can see fiery red from time to time and his temper can bubble over, but my father is known for his grace, forgiveness, and charity towards others. He contacted his old friend… which then led to an invitation back to Cordonia.

'It's only for a little while, until he gets back on his feet,' Daddy assured my mom.  'We'll give him tasks around the palace until then.'

Mom called it a 'midlife crisis'. I don't think I was supposed to hear the latter part.

I began to draw on my eyeliner as my mother crossed her arms, glowering at me. Feeling the disappointment radiate from her glare, I stop, shrugging my shoulders. "What?"

"Part of being royal is posing as a unified front as a family."

"You act like this is some official business or a press event–"

"Our closest friends are going to be here, Elle, and–" she stops, her eyes playfully smoldering as her voice becomes angelically romantic. "--I think even Bartie is coming." 

"Mom!" I chuckle, my cheeks pinking in embarrassment from her inflection. "It's not like that with him."

Oh, but it was…

Bartie Beaumont is one of my closest friends. He's a few years older than me and well… I really enjoy spending time with him.  He's incredibly kind and charming in and out of social situations. He's quite handsome with his dark, well-kept hair and deep chestnut eyes. And smart–goodness, he's smart. He can keep up with my father, round-for-round in debating politics and foreign policies.

He's always been fiercely protective of me, even when I was a little girl. But he was always just Bartie, my honorary older brother… that is until he asked me to dance at a charity gala when I was sixteen. I had never been asked to dance by a boy before; I was normally paired with other noble children, usually from the suggestion made by their mothers. But this? It was different… and special. Someone chose to dance with me because they wanted to. And until that moment, I never understood what it meant to let a partner 'lead you', and well… I digress. It was nice. Bartie… he's just nice.

"But seriously, Mom," I continue, "the girls have already set everything up for tonight, and I'm the guest of honor for that. I can't just stand them up."

My mom gives me a long sigh. She's having that internal argument with herself where she compares her younger years as a commoner versus her younger years as a royal. "I guess I was hoping you'd get to meet your Uncle Drake tonight–"

I couldn't control my giggles. Growing up, Mom and Dad always referred to their close friends as 'Aunt' or 'Uncle', like my Uncle Max and Aunt Livvy. But they were also active members in my life that I saw frequently. 'Uncle Drake'? I don't even know the guy. 

"Isn't he living on our couch for a while? I'm sure I'll meet him at breakfast sometime." 

My mom pursed her lips. I think she realizes she has no other reasons to keep me home. Thank goodness.

"Is Lars going with you, or is one of the other guards?"

"Mom," I whine.

"Eleanor, you know the rules–"

"But I just want to be a normal twenty-year-old for the night–"

"Almost twenty-year-old," she smirks, stepping forward to fidget with my wavy, honey-brunette hair. "It's just not safe, baby. People know who you are–good people… and bad people. Even under all of this make-up, people will still recognize you."

I give a little huff, but she was right. I once dyed my hair purple and wore thick-rimmed frames to a show for a local punk band, and I'm pretty sure I posed for more photos with fans than the musicians.

"Fine, I'll ask Lars," I give my mother a half smile. "Anything else, your majesty?"

"One more thing," she twirls me around to face my reflection in the mirror. I'm keeping it pretty casual tonight with a white shirt and black ripped skinny jeans. I am pairing my black moto jacket with some gold accessories and my red Jimmy Choo pumps. Surely the woman doesn't think I'm showing off too much skin. 

Suddenly, she raises my shirt in the back and unclips my white bra.

"Mom!" 

"Eleanor," she snickers, shaking her head at me. "We've been over and over this ever since you got boobs: white shirt, nude undergarments."

I whip off my bra, quickly grabbing a skin-tone t-shirt bra. "No one's going to be looking."

"Someone is always looking." 

After hooking my bra and smoothing out my tee, Mom gave me an approving nod. And then she put her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. "Have a good time tonight. I love you, my twenty-year-old baby."

"Almost twenty-year-old baby." We both fall into titters as we squeeze each other closer. "I love you too, Mommy."

------

I text my bodyguard Lars to let him know about the evening, and as expected, he'll be ready with the car in ten minutes. 

Poor guy was ball-and-chained to me when I got my driver's license. I'm sure when he signed up for the guard, he pictured himself traveling around the world, looking like a badass with my dad. Instead, he got me, and the only traveling he normally does is to gather my morning espresso and cronut. He's made more trips to Sephora than any man should ever make in his lifetime–even more than my Uncle Max.

He's a good guy… if you like the serious, never-crack-a-smile type. He looks like John Cena with a permanent angry expression, complete with a single bulging vein in the center of his forehead. He's a man of few words despite my attempts to make him laugh, but underneath all the brawn and muscle, he has a big heart. He has literally given me his coat so that I wouldn't have to walk through a puddle of half-melted snow. And to think, he has sworn to give so much more for my own life… 

My phone abruptly pings. Beth.

>>> "Hey, bday bish! R U ready for the nite of ur life?"

I chuckle under my breath after reading the text. Night of my life… She always has a flare for the dramatics, but then again Beth has always been the life of the party. She has more personality in her pinkie finger than all of the citizens of Cordonia combined. Her mother is the Countess of Fydelia, and ever since Beth's father left, she's been indisposed.  Mom says that's a more tactful way of saying, 'alcoholic'. 

Beth walks more on the wild side, a real risk-taker. When I get in trouble, chances are she is somehow involved, like the time I got caught with a bottle of Smirnoff Ice at the Baron's Ball. Ugh, talk about the hangover from hell… and that wasn't even my punishment…

But she, along with Josie, are my ride-or-die. My BFFs. My "You jump, I jump, right?". We've grown up together, became women together, and nothing was about to ruin that bond.

I fire a text back to Beth. 

>>> "Can't wait! My car will be ready in a few. What restaurant are we meeting at?"

My phone instantly dings, catching me off guard in my attempts to glide on some lipstick. That was fast. I tap on the message.

>>> "We're coming 4 u! Be ready!"

My face falls. I know it's probably hard to believe, but my friends often forget that I'm a princess. Like, the legit crown princess of Cordonia, and because of that, I need a bodyguard present during all activities outside of the palace that have not otherwise been secured by the royal guard. As you can imagine, that rule made me so popular in grade school when my parents tried giving me a 'normal life'.

In retrospect, I'm quite grateful for the security through the years, especially when I hear about plots made by secret coups against my dad. But still, it would be nice to get my own darn breakfast. And I'm sure Lars would love to sleep in for once.

I text back.

>>> "And Lars"

>>> "R U kidding me? Ur shadow has 2 come?"

I let out a defeated exhale.  She knows this. My phone suddenly rings, her picture lighting up the screen. "Hey–"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She sounds irritated, as if I did this maliciously to her.

"Beth, you know my parents won't allow me out without him or any other–"

"He can't come with us," she interrupts. I can hear Josie in the back, trying to calm Beth down. 

"And do tell–" I cross an arm over my chest, raising an eyebrow, "--why is that?"

She lets out a huge sigh. "Fine. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday, but–" she hesitates, sucking on her front teeth.  "I got us three VIP passes into Core!"

I blink a few times, racking my brain for this to somehow trip a memory. "Core?" Nope. No tripping. "What's Core?"

"Nora!" She scoffs in disbelief. "It's only the newest and hottest club in town. Tonight is opening night. Half price shots–"

"Uh, Beth–?" I could feel my stomach sinking under the weight of her excitement. And Josie wasn't any better, squealing over the line. 

A club? Like, with dancing and drinking? I had never been to one before. And something tells me that the king wouldn't be too approving of his nineteen-year-old daughter partying with half-drunk strangers, groping her in the name of dancing. Still, it sounds like so much fun.

"--and we have a VIP table with bottle service until midnight!"

"Beth!" I call out to get her attention again. "There… there's just no way I can do that. Especially without Lars."

"C'mon, Nora. It's your freaking birthday. You're supposed to let loose–"

I hang my head into my hands. "You know I want to, but… I–I can't do that. My parents–"

"--don't have to know."

That silenced me real quickly into deep thought. I might not be the world's most perfect child, but I have learned never to hide things from Liam and Riley Rys. Never. 

But I'd be lying if a glimmer of hope and excitement didn't blossom in my chest at the thought of going out despite my parent's knowledge. Besides, I am an adult; I'm almost twenty for crying out loud. If anything, I've shown them how responsible I am, and that I can be trusted. Plus, Aunt Livvy has taught me more than enough self-defense maneuvers that I could probably take a second job as a spy with her wife.

Okay. Maybe Beth has a plan.

"And how won't they find out? Lars has to give a detailed report–"

"We won't bring him."

That's the plan? I snicker under my breath, chewing on the inside of my cheek. "And… how do you suggest I get rid of him?"

"Why not a sleepover?" I hear Josie suggest in the background.

A sleepover. That could work. There were few places I could go where security didn't have to be right beside me once a building was given the all clear. Beth's house happened to be one of them. 

"But I'm already dressed up. And–and I told my mom we were going out–"

"So?" Beth interjects. "We changed our minds. We'll have dinner catered."

Crap. Am I really considering this? I look at my reflection in the mirror as I twist my lips. Dangit. And I'm having a really good hair day.

"What's it gonna be, Nora?"

I take a few cleansing breaths. I can feel my pulse, galloping like a racehorse in my ears. Could I actually get away with this? I've been to Beth's house thousands of times. The guard comes in, does a quick sweep, and then keeps watch outside, never to return until it's time for me to leave. We could sneak out the back through the guest house. He would never know.

I swallow thickly, adrenaline pouring into my veins.

"Okay. Let me make a call."

~🖤~

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[fadingreveries]

The Royal Romance, Bk1 Ch1: Once Upon a Time (Pt. 1)

Click here for the TRR retelling series masterlist for more chapters! 🏰

Tag list: I couldn't tag everyone because it wouldn't let me, but turn off "exclude from Tumblr search" for your account in settings and comment if you’d like to be tagged! @kingliam2019 @princess-geek (thanks for showing interest! Thought I would tag to say thank you!)

Story Summary: In this novel-style retelling of TRR, beloved scenes with original commentary from the Choices stories including your favourite group of royals and friends will be expanded upon. Contains extended commentary and scenes from the original story, in-depth descriptions of bonus scenes, and premium choices and outfits.

Chapter Synopsis: Love awaits in the royal court of Cordonia as Riley competes for the Crown Prince! Will she accept his proposal, or will someone else win her heart?

Disclaimer: All rights to original commentary, scenes, and characters from The Royal Romance series reserved to Choices and Pixelberry Studios. No copyright infringement intended.

Word Count: 1.6k

~ ~ ~

Those who found love with the right person, in the right place, at the right time, and the right life destined for them were rare. With how unpredictable life may be, not everyone was lucky to be destined with all of the key factors that would culminate for the biggest blessing from life itself.

One night’s chance encounter changed the lives of people who would become a close-knit group of friends in more ways than one.

Once upon a time, Riley Brooks was a young lady who resided in New York City. She was a fair-skinned, beautiful lady with dark ebony tresses and Dutch-braided bangs. With soft doe-like eyes and peach-coloured lips, Riley had met her fair share of suitors but none with whom she felt a longing connection to. 

After working as a part-time waitress to put herself through school, she had finally graduated with an undergraduate degree and a Master of Arts degree in history from the prestigious New York University. At last, she was ready to explore the world beyond lecture halls, late night study sessions, and thesis dissertations. 

“Just another glamorous New York Saturday night of hauling trash to the dumpster.” Riley sighed, heaving a stuffed black bag up where it would join the other garbage that had been piling up that night. 

At the current moment, however, she was stuck on a late-night shift at the restaurant and bar where she had worked for the last six years. With all her might, she hoisted the humongous black garbage bag which landed on the others with a soft thump. She dusted off her hands, looking warily over her shoulder with the barely lit back area of the brick building. 

There was something about the back alley of the building where she threw out the garbage every night that made her uneasy, partly due to the fact that drunk party goers tended to loiter there in the dark when veering off course from the streets and sidewalks. Luckily for her, she had her favourite coworker, Daniel, by her side to help. 

“It could be worse. There could be—” Daniel, her co-worker had started before letting out a frightened yelp and darting away from the dumpster, “Rats! Riley, help!”

Riley glanced down at the sight before her, taking note of two adult mice and two baby mice. As they scurried away, she laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of this adorable mouse family. They’re trying to get by, just like us.”

“Hey!” A booming voice yelled out, making the two co-workers turn around. “Riley, Daniel, quit slacking off over there!”

If there was one thing Riley was ready to embrace, it was the fact that she had finally given her two-week notice to her boss. After six years, she would finally be out of his clutches and no longer have to hear constant nagging from him about every minuscule detail she had made the mistake of carrying out in front of him. 

“You told us to take out the garbage,” Riley reminded him, a scowl deepening as she remembered how insufferable her boss was. 

“And now I’m telling you to wait on the bachelor party that just rolled in. Chop chop!” The manager barked out, clapping his hands for emphasis before storming back inside the bar. 

__________

Meanwhile, it was the night of Liam Rys’ bachelor party. Two of his friends plus one acquaintance had organized a clandestine night out in New York City before they returned to Cordonia for the social season.

Earlier that evening, Maxwell whooped out, “Awesome! We finally lost Bastien! I can’t believe we pulled that off, but I’m not going to question it.”

It was around eight o’clock on one Friday night when Liam, Maxwell, and Drake had escaped Liam’s bodyguard, Bastien. There was an outdoor music festival held all day at a nearby park and with all the large crowds, Maxwell and Drake had planned to help Liam escape from his royal duties for at least one night. Which meant losing his bodyguard as soon as possible and blending in with the New York nightlife. 

“Knowing Bastien, I’m sure he’s got an eye on us somehow. At least we have the illusion of independence,” Drake commented, knowing that it was better than nothing. He knew if anything that this illusion could give Liam a slight sense of what he truly longed for.

“I’ll take it! Time to whip out the… ultimate Bachelor Party Bucket List!” Maxwell excitedly cried out, as he drew a worryingly long physical paper shaped like a bucket out of his pocket. 

Blinking in confusion at the paper contraption his friend summoned out of nowhere, Drake remarked, “There were so many parts of what you said that I’d hoped weren’t literal.” 

“Okay, here’s what I got…” Maxwell cleared his throat, reading from his paper bucket list. “Give each other crazy nicknames, get tattoos, eat at the best place in New York, have a spontaneous, crazy adventure, get into a fight, and get tattoos!”

“You said ‘get tattoos’ twice,” Drake plainly stated, not impressed by Maxwell’s idea of a bachelor party. 

Maxwell rolled his eyes, giving Drake a look that indicated he should have known that the meaning was implied. “That’s how important it is!”

Drake shook his head, looking Maxwell straight in the eye. Never in a million years was he going to agree to tattoos, especially not for Maxwell’s pure amusement. “I’m not getting a tattoo.”

“Friendship tattoos!” Maxwell exclaimed, trying desperately to convince him otherwise. Tattoos were a long-lasting symbol of friendship in itself, right?

Clearly, Maxwell had different ideas on what qualified as fun things to do with your friends in an unfamiliar city. Drake scoffed, “There’s not enough whiskey in Manhattan.”

“We’ll circle back to that,” Maxwell responded, turning his back against Drake and not taking no for an answer. He elbowed Liam’s side with a cheeky smile. “Remember, it’s this guy’s night.”

Liam sheepishly chuckled. How lucky was he to have such thoughtful friends? “It is my night.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head,” Drake warned him, although he had a small smile. 

The prince was touched by his best friends’ warm gesture. Not everyone would go out of their way to make his one night of controlled freedom as enjoyable as possible, at least not as much as these two would. It was something he had never been allowed the luxury of, given that he was the Crown Prince of Cordonia and the heir to the throne after his older brother, Leo, had abdicated years earlier. 

With a sad frown, Liam confessed, “Actually… It really means a lot to share this moment with both of you. After this summer, everything will change. I’ll be married… I’ll be preparing to start a family and carry on the royal line. It means everything to me to have one last moment with the two of you.”

“I don’t know that you’ve ever had a carefree moment in your life, but we’ll do our best,” Drake softly murmured. He meant this more than Liam would ever know. Drake had seen first-hand the struggles his best friend had gone through growing up with the burden of being royalty, but he wasn’t about to let his last night of freedom before the social season go to waste. 

Maxwell nodded, a mischievous smile on his face. “Damn right we will. First up, nicknames.”

“What is this again?” Drake groaned in exasperation. Just when he thought they had made it past his bachelor party antics. 

Once again, Maxwell looked at Drake as if the answer was obvious. He declared, “We think of awesome nicknames to give ourselves as a group!”

Drake’s deadpan answer was quick, his blank expression unwavering. “Cool. Mine’s Drake.”

Maxwell pouted, his bottom lip protruding out in protest. “Man, come on. You could pick anything! Alpha Bravo? Dark and Stormy? Toasted Marshmallow?”

“Pass,” Drake answered, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Unacceptable! All our nicknames are gonna be in theme! Right, Liam?” Maxwell questioned him, his eyebrows scrunched together in determination. Once Maxwell had an idea, he didn’t plan on giving up. It just wasn’t the Beaumont way. 

Liam chuckled, amused at Maxwell’s enthusiasm to make his bachelor party much more lively. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, we could theme it after cards like King of Hearts or Jack of Spades… or our favourite foods… or… or… like a fairytale!” Maxwell excitedly suggested, his eyes lighting up even brighter with each suggestion. 

“Fairytale?” Liam asked, looking for clarification.

Drake guffawed, turning to Liam. “You could be Prince Charming.” It wasn’t far from the plain truth, anyway. 

“There you go! Now you’re getting into it!” Maxwell grinned, pleased that Drake was now participating with the same level of gusto as he was. 

Drake immediately frowned, not wanting to give off that impression and play into Maxwell’s fantasy of having the perfect bachelor party by his wild standards. “No… I just… ugh, Liam, pick one.”

“We should go with the theme…” Liam pondered with a smile to himself, before answering, “Fairytale. I kind of like Prince Charming.”

“Of course. I'm the Fairy Godmother because whatever you want tonight, I’ll make it happen!” Maxwell stated, his body giddy almost as if you could see the energy bouncing off of him. 

Liam gestured to Drake, trying to think of a nickname for him. “What about Drake?”

Maxwell stepped closer to Drake, who rolled his eyes, before he snapped his fingers and announced, “He’s got ‘Dragon’ written all over him.”

“I’m good with that,” Drake agreed, shrugging his shoulders. It wasn’t the worst nickname he could be given. 

“Yes! Let’s roll!” Maxwell cheered, happy with how things had worked out. One thing down, five more to go on the ultimate Bachelor Party Bucket List! “Next stop is dinner!”

~ ~ ~

Click here for the TRR retelling series masterlist for more chapters! 🏰

Tag list: Turn off "exclude from Tumblr search" for your account in settings and comment if you’d like to be tagged! @kingliam2019 @princess-geek

[tessa-liam]

Turning the Page  

A Step Back in Time, chapter 11

Choices, The Royal Romance, AU 

Series Premise: As Riley Brooks journeys through life as a single parent in New York City, an epiphany strikes as she contemplates the future for herself and her two-year-old son. 

Turning the Page Series Masterlist 

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!OC Riley Brooks 

All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except William Brooks (Rys) and Matteo Magro, who belongs to this series. 

Category: On-going series, contains angst/fluff/depression. Cross-over fic with Choices, Perfect Match. 

Rating: M🔞 - Warnings - Series will contain crude language, weapons, NSFW material – not Beta’d - please excuse all errors. 

Words: 3268

A Step Back in Time, Chapter 11

Chapter Summary: Liam, Riley and William arrive for a weeklong retreat in Lythikos. Olivia takes Riley ‘under her wing’ to mentor and to offer advice for her return to court. Olivia was determined to get her friend into the right frame of mind and to ultimately get the sparkle back in her eyes. 

Music Inspiration: What Was I Made for? Billie Eilish ; Lose Control, Teddy Swims 

A/N1: In this alternate universe, after King Constantine orchestrates two individual scandals to humiliate and entrap Riley Brooks and Olivia Nevrakis in shame, Madeleine Amaranth secures her position as the Queen of Cordonia. Riley, as the King’s mistress and Olivia, in self-imposed exile. Tariq is never found.  

A/N2: Damien Nazario has been assigned as William’s personal bodyguard. (Series cross-over with ‘Perfect Match’) 

‘Cause I, ‘cause I 

I don’t know how to feel 

But I wanna try 

I don’t know how to feel 

But someday I might 

Someday I might 

Think I forgot how to be happy 

Something I’m not, but something I can be 

Something I wait for 

Something I’m made for 

Something I’m made for’ 

Cordonian Royal Palace, Capital 

If you told Riley Brooks that she would be living in Cordonia, in the Royal palace, with the King of Cordonia just last summer ... she would not believe you. She would tell you that ‘once upon a time’, she fell in love with that King and competed for his hand in marriage in his social season. By reason of the cruelty of fate, and the callousness of the Royal court, that dream would be ripped away from her by a world that was foreign to her. Where outsiders, or commoners, were frowned upon and/or deemed lesser than the noble class. She would be relegated to be the other woman, the mistress to that immensely powerful man whose duty to his country dictated that he must marry a ‘chosen’ woman, even though he did not love her. 

...and she had to watch that man she loved, marry another. 

...because she loved him, she remained. Confiding to him, ‘I’ve made my decision ... I want to be with you. I don’t care what it looks like.’ 

...and it broke her. 

In the Royal east wing, inside William’s bedroom, Riley meticulously packed his clothing into a large suitcase. Carefully selecting each item with love and care for their winter vacation in the Alps of Lythikos, she folded his small woolen sweaters with matching pants and jeans. Soft mittens and a woolen cap were nestled next to his favorite plushie, Scooby; ready to go with him on his snowy adventures. 

"Li Li, sweetheart, come here please," Riley called out, her voice echoing through the spacious room. William bounded towards her; his eyes wide as he watched his mother pack his belongings. 

"We go away, Mama?" William asked, his voice filled with wonder. 

"Yes, my sweet boy," Riley replied with a smile, scooping him up into her arms and placing him down on his bed. "We're going to the mountains with your father to visit a good friend of ours. It's going to be so much fun." 

William's eyes sparkled with delight at the mention of his father. In the five short months since he met his father for the first time, the bond between father and son had grown stronger exponentially. William adored Liam, who always had time for his son's playful antics in New York and now, here in Cordonia, as well. Despite his Royal duties, Liam made the point to spend as much time with William as possible. Riley was not surprised. Liam often spoke about what kind of father he wanted himself to be. The exact opposite of his own father. She could tell that Liam was trying his best to make up for all the time they had lost. And she could not be happier. 

Riley continued to pack, tucking away William's favorite books and toys to keep him entertained during their trip in Lythikos. She had already arranged for snacks with the kitchens, ensuring they would have everything they needed for the long drive to the northern chateau.  

Riley looked up, catching Liam's gaze.  

Liam stood and silently watched, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded. A gentle smile played on his lips as he watched Riley packing their son's belongings for their trip, while William happily tried to help his mother. 

"Come, my King," Riley softly spoke and smiled with a playful glint in her eyes. "Help me double-check if we have everything for our little adventurer." 

Liam pushed himself away from the doorframe and strolled over to Riley; he crouched down beside William, who was wide-eyed with anticipation. 

“Daddy, look.” William pointed to the large suitcase, smiling happily at his father. 

"Hello, my little prince," Liam greeted, ruffling William's hair. "Are you ready for an adventure?" 

William giggled and nodded his head vigorously, his eyes reflecting the admiration and adoration he held for his father. Liam chuckled, “I see you have lots of toys packed.” 

William climbed over to the suitcase and plucked his favorite plush to show his father. 

“Ah, I see you packed your little dog. Is he your special friend?”  

“Yes, Daddy. I love puppies.” William grinned, squeezing his toy. 

“You do? That is good to know,” Liam winked at Riley as William returned his toy to be packed. 

“I will meet you two in an hour. All right, love?” Liam asked Riley. 

“Okay, Daddy,” William answered as Liam and Riley chuckled together at his response. 

As Liam left to go to his study, Damien entered, bowing to Liam, “Your Majesty”. 

Liam smiled and nodded 'hello' in response as he walked towards his assistant waiting in the hall followed by his security detail. 

Nevrakis Chateau, Lythikos, Cordonia 

Driving through the majestic mountains, Riley stared at the vista overlooking the Nevrakis chateau. Memories flooded her mind as they passed the frozen lake below. The lake where she, along with the other suitors skated on, with Liam during his social season years ago.  

Riley shivered. Was it from seeing the beautiful winter landscape or from those memories of past competitions for the man she loved? Riley’s thoughts were interrupted by the happy sound of her son’s voice. 

William giggled; totally enthralled by Liam’s storytelling of his past adventures in the snow. The sight of father and son was precious to Riley, as she softly smiled at the two of them. William was sitting on Liam’s lap as he pointed to the large chateau coming into view ahead. 

The escalade stopped at the grand entrance of the Nevrakis chateau as members of the royal guard went into formation and opened the vehicle doors. 

As they made their way toward the entrance, a flurry of snowflakes fell from the sky, adding a layer of white powder to the ground. 

"Wow, this is beautiful.” Riley raised her arms to the sky. “I remember my first visit here during your social season.”  

"It is. If I remember correctly, it was just as cold." Liam quipped adjusting William’s scarf. 

Members of Olivia’s waitstaff greeted the party as they entered the lavish and grand estate. Standing at the base of the grand staircase, Olivia grinned as William squealed at the pair of Alaskan malamutes sitting inside the foyer. 

“King Liam, Lady Riley and Prince William ... welcome to my quaint northern lodge. I am delighted to host the three of you.”  

Liam approached Olivia and kissed her cheek, then gestured to Riley and William to join them. 

"Olivia, it's been far too long since I last visited. The grounds are magnificent.” 

"Indeed, thank you, Liam.” Olivia beamed with pride. 

"Thank you for hosting us. Your hospitality is greatly appreciated.” Riley added. 

"Anything for my dear friends." 

Olivia's attention was drawn to William, who was petting the dogs and giggling. 

"Well, hello again, prince William." Olivia walked over and knelt beside and offered treats to her two canine companions. 

William looked up at her and smiled. 

"Hewwo." 

"He's even cuter than I remember," Olivia grinned. “This one,” she motioned to the brown tipped dog, is ‘Mischa’. And this big guy is ‘Zeus’, "she cooed. 

"Now, Riley." Olivia stood and walked forward slowly, looping her arm through Riley's arm and leading her inside. "We have lots to catch up on. Liam, make yourself at home. Your Royal suite is ready for you. Gustav will be your personal attendant for your stay." 

"Thank you, Liv. That is much appreciated." 

"You are quite welcome. Now, Riley, let us get started on our girl time.” Liam winked at Riley, his shoulders shaking as he chuckled at Riley’s faux scared expression. 

"Okay, sounds good." Riley shook her head grinning as she walked by Liam. 

Olivia and Riley climbed the grand staircase and disappeared around a corner while William sat on the floor playing with the dogs. 

"William, let's get you changed and settled." Liam extended his hand down for his son to take. 

"Okay, Daddy." 

“Bye bye puppies.” William exuberantly spoke to the large dogs. 

***

 Riley and Olivia sat on a plush sofa in front of a large window overlooking the mountains. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the snowy landscape. 

"It's so beautiful here." Riley marveled at the picturesque view. 

"I'm glad you like it.” Olivia proudly acknowledged as she handed a large glass filled with chardonnay to Riley. 

Olivia sat back and watched Riley; her expression turning serious. 

"Riley, I know that things have been difficult for you since you've come back, but you have to remember, you're a force of nature. You are stronger than you think.” Olivia was continuing the conversation of their last visit at the palace.

Riley looked down at her hands, which held onto the wine glass with a death grip. She knew the invitation to spend the week in Olivia's duchy was not just a holiday for her, Liam and William. Her once adversarial friend, and now, her good friend, wanted to assist her with reuniting with Liam.

"I can see the pain and sadness in your eyes." Olivia continued. 

"Oh... "  

"How is it really going? Riley, how is everything between you and Liam?" 

Riley sighed and set her wine glass on the table. 

"I'm...I'm not sure." 

"Do you still love him?" 

"Yes, of course. I have never stopped loving him.” 

"Do you think he loves you?" 

"Yes.” There was a small smile followed by biting her top lip. 

"Then what's the problem?" 

"I'm not sure."

Olivia shook her head and sighed. 

"You have to trust him, Riley. He loves you. And I can see how happy William makes him.” 

"I know that.” 

"But there's something else, isn't there?" Olivia eyed her friend for clues.

"It's just that... we've spent so much time apart. And now that we are back together, things feel different.” 

"I think I understand. That is quite normal, all things considered." 

"And I'm worried that he'll eventually resent me for leaving him while I was pregnant with William." 

"He could never resent you, Riley. You are the mother of his child. It'# not in his DNA.” 

“I keep thinking that that there will be another scandal around the corner. That something or someone will tear us apart.” 

"What happened to that confident and free spirited American girl? The one who turned the court on its' head. Where did she go?"

"I know what you are asking. I feel scared; waiting for the other shoe to drop.” 

"Scared of what? And why?" 

"That he won't forgive me." 

"Riley, listen to me. That is your guilt talking.” 

Olivia reached over and grabbed Riley's hands, looking her in the eye. 

"Liam loves you. He will always love you. You and William are his world. And I know that he wants nothing more than to make you happy.” 

"But..." 

"But, nothing. There is no 'but'.” 

"Okay." Riley was not convinced. "But, Madeleine ..."

"Is out of the picture; where Liam is concerned. You have the power of position now, make Madeleine feel it." 

Riley looked at her friend and took a staggered breath.

"Most importantly, you hold the King’s heart...show the world, show Cordonia, show Madeleine what that means...you will bring her to her knees." Olivia sneered. 

"This is why I wanted you to come for a visit. To remind you of who you are and what you are capable of.” 

“Olivia ...” Riley sighed, shaking her head, ‘no’. 

"Now. Come with me." 

Olivia stood and motioned for Riley to follow. 

Olivia took her down to an armory in the bowels of the chateau. 

"Here we are." Olivia turned and motioned to a wall of weapons. 

"What are we doing down here?" Riley asked, eyeing the collection of weapons displayed on the wall.

"We're going to do some training.” 

"Training? For what?" Riley questioned, perplexed. 

"For the press." 

"Why do I need training for the press? With weapons?" 

"Because they're vultures. They will try to get a rise out of you. They will ask rude and invasive questions. They will try to trip you up.” 

"But why do you think I need training? I know you haven’t forgotten that I was subjected to them during Liam’s social season." 

"Because they're relentless idiots.” Olivia sneered. 

"Okay, but ...” 

“Now that you are back in Cordonia, the mother of the crown prince, no less ...they want to find out your intentions with their king.” 

Riley took a deep breath, closing her eyes. 

"Don't worry. I'm going to teach you how to handle them.” Olivia confidently proclaimed with a smirk. 

"Thank you, Olivia.” Riley sighed as she eyed the collection of pointy weaponry again. 

"Of course. Now, let us get started.” 

Riley was grateful for Olivia's help and advice. She knew that she was right about the press, having dealt with them through the engagement tour, after the scandal was brought to light. 

Riley didn't have to know that. At least, not yet. 

And she knew that she needed to be prepared. Riley understood the extent to which the press would dig and manipulate information to get a juicy soundbite. But she was not aware that Madeleine would have her own agenda to discredit and sabotage her at every chance she got, all the way from Morocco. However, Olivia was well aware of Madeleine’s spite and her bitterness over losing the crown. 

"First off. I want you to choose a weapon." Olivia pointed to her collection of weaponry mounted on the wall. 

"A weapon?" Riley’s eyes were wide looking at the selection before her.

"Yes. You cannot fight the press with words alone.” 

"Um...okay." Riley answered sceptically. 

Riley looked at each weapon closely. There were swords, halberds, axes and daggers, among others. 

She picked up a sword. 

"Hmm...a sword? Interesting choice." 

"It's light and I can move fast.” 

"Good. Particularly good.” Olivia nodded approvingly. “That would be a weapon that Liam would choose.” 

“Really?” Riley admonished. 

"Now, we'll practice some moves.” 

"Moves?" 

"Yes. Maneuvers. Stances. Blocking and parrying.” 

"Wow. This is serious.” 

"Indeed. I'll start slow, but don't let your guard down.” 

"I won't.” Riley responded warily. 

"Good. Now, attack me." 

"What?" Riley looked aghast.

"Attack me." 

"Oh, um ... okay." 

Riley raised the sword and ran at Olivia, who easily dodged the blow. 

"Is that the best you've got?" 

"No.” 

Riley lunged at her again, and again, Olivia sidestepped each attack. 

"You're leaving yourself open.” Olivia challenged.

"I am?" 

"Yes. If this was a real fight, I would have cut you down by now." Olivia chirped. 

"Oh.” Riley let out a large breath, wondering to herself how this lesson was going to end. 

"Here. Let me show you." 

Olivia demonstrated a series of moves, her sword flashing and swooshing in the air. 

"Now, you try.” 

Riley imitated the movements, her sword swishing through the air. 

"Better.” Olivia critiqued. 

"Thanks." Riley answered questionably. 

"Again.” Olivia commanded with Riley going on the defensive. 

They continued to spar, their swords clashing together. Riley was impressed with Olivia's skills and ability to read her opponent and react accordingly. 

As they continued to fight, Riley became more comfortable with the sword, her moves becoming more fluid and graceful. Liam slipped into the back of the room, quietly watching the sparring.

"Excellent.” Olivia praised.

"Thanks.” Riley smiled at the compliment, picking up a bottle of water.

"Now we need a target." Olivia led her to a stuffed, practice dummy.  

Riley chuckled as she watched her friend attach a large face photo of Madeleine onto the head with a dagger.  

"Here, let me help you." Olivia handed her an assortment of knives, before she expertly threw her dagger.

Riley's first few throws landed wide, but she quickly found her mark, sinking several blades into the center of the picture. 

"Nicely done.” 

"Thanks." 

"Feel better?" Olivia snickered as Riley laughed. 

“Yes! Yes, actually I do. But I don't understand. How is this going to help me?” 

 "When the press asks you questions, you need to stay calm and confident. If they try to rattle you, throw them off balance. Focus on your target.” Olivia pointed to the picture. 

"Let's practice."

"All right."

"Imagine I'm a member of the press. And I ask you, 'Lady Riley, where have you been all these years?'"

Riley cleared her throat and straightened her posture. 

"I've been raising my son in New York. It's where he was born and raised.” 

"Why did you leave Cordonia?"

"I left to protect my child. And because I knew that King Liam had an obligation to the Queen.” 

"What are your intentions now that you've returned?” 

"I'm here to support my son and to be a part of his life.” 

"Do you still love the King?” 

"Yes, of course." 

“No! STOP!!!” 

Olivia moved assertively towards Riley. "This is where you say, 'that's all the questions for today’ and then you walk away from the microphones. Show confidence. Show determination. Show stoicism. Control the narrative.” 

Riley raised her eyebrow. "How did you get so good at this, Olivia?" 

Olivia shrugged, her shoulders rising slightly. "I'm the duchess of Lythikos. People talk. And sometimes they don't realize I'm listening." 

Riley nodded, a new respect for Olivia blossoming in her heart with a renewed sense of determination in her step. 

Feeling his arms, Riley giggled and leaned back against him with a content smile. 

Liam sauntered up to Riley from behind, wrapping his arms around Riley’s waist. 

Riley turned around to look at Liam, her eyes filled with love. 

“The Royal guard will then lead you away from the gathering,” Liam interjected. “You will never be left without protection.” 

"Thank you, Liam.” Riley tearfully smiled.

"I want you to know that while I am alive, you will always have a home in Cordonia. And I will never let anyone threaten that ... or you ... ever again.” 

Riley felt a warm feeling in her chest and a sense of calm.

Maybe everything was going to be all right, after all. As long as she had Liam and William, she knew she could face anything.

"Liam, I love you."

"I love you, too, Riley."

Liam pressed his lips to hers, and Riley melted into his embrace. They kissed for a long moment, savoring the feel of each other's bodies.

"Come, let's go get some sleep. We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow."

"I'm ready.*

"Pleasant dreams you two. Good night."

"Olivia, thank you for your expertise. It is much appreciated.

"Your welcome, Liam. It's my pleasure."

Good night." Riley called out.

Riley followed Liam out of the room, her hand firmly grasped in his.

And for the first time since she had come back to Cordonia, she truly felt like she was home.

"Thank you, Olivia," she whispered as she lay in Liam's arms, his steady heartbeat lulling her to sleep.

Thanks for reading; please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from this series.

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[angelasscribbles]

All That She Wants Chapter 1: Riley's Dilemma

Series: All That She Wants

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam in this chapter. Riley x Drake coming and possibly Liam x Olivia.

Word Count: 644

Rating: M

Warnings for this chapter: none

A/N: I know I haven't written much lately. This song has been stuck in my head and then this happened.

My other stuff: Master List.

Riley’s eyes cracked open and squinted in protest against the brightening dawn streaming in through the windows. She rolled over to find the spot next to her still warm, but already empty. Her gaze traveled across the room and wistfully took in the sight of her husband as he walked from the ensuite to the walk-in closet, dropped the towel wrapped around his waist, and began dressing.

“You could come back to bed,” she invited.

His eyes flicked in her direction, then quickly away as he shook his head. “No time for that. I have an itinerary to keep to.”

“But Liam…” she climbed out of the double king bed that had become entirely too big over the past eight years and made her way across the room to him, swaying her hips as she went.

“Riley, I don’t have time for—”

She ran a hand through his hair and then down the broad expanse of his chest as she leaned in with a seductive whisper. “We could make another baby.” She had been tracking her fertility, and she knew she was ovulating. Today was a good day for conception.

He removed her hand from his body and turned away from her with an annoyed sigh. Grabbing a comb, he quickly arranged his hair back to immaculate. “We’ve talked about this. Cordonia has an heir and a spare. I’ve done my duty to the crown. I don’t want any more children.”

“But—”

“If you want another baby, find someone else to father it.” With that, he turned on his heel and was gone. No goodbye kiss, no nothing.

She released a breath of frustration as she looked at herself in the mirror. The red silky negligee hugged her curves and set off her tanned complexion rather nicely.

She turned from one side to the other, examining her reflection critically. Sure, she was a little heavier than she had been on their wedding day eight years ago, but she had given him two children. She was still reasonably fit, young, and attractive. So why didn’t her husband want her anymore?

Tears welled up in her eyes. She brushed them away angrily. She knew why.

Fucking Olivia Nevrakis, that’s why.

Storming back to the bed, she threw herself in it and lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling.

She was lonely. Once upon a time, she had focused all the attention that her husband didn’t want on their children. Now they were older and in lessons much of the day, leaving her at loose ends.

Maybe Hana could come for a visit soon. Maybe she should call her mother. If Liam was going to ignore her, the least he could do was give her another baby to keep her occupied. A sweet, cuddly, bundle of joy that would love her back.

As she lay there feeling sorry for herself, an idea presented itself to her.

She sat up as her eyes widened.

She swiped her phone from the nightstand and punched in Mara’s number. “Send me the guard schedule for the day.”

She had barely pressed the end button before her phone dinged with the requested information. She opened the attachment. Her fingers ran down the list, searching for one name in particular.

He wasn’t working today. A smile crawled across her face. She knew exactly where he would be.

She called down to the kitchen with instructions and then texted her assistant to clear her schedule for the day.

After breakfast in the nursery with her children, she kissed Ellie and Xander, turned them over to the tutors for their morning lessons, and returned to her room to get ready for the day.

An hour later she stood in front of the mirror again, this time in her most flattering swimsuit. She smiled at herself, pleased with her decision before wrapping a sarong around her waist and heading out the door of the royal suite.

If Liam wouldn’t give her a baby, maybe Drake would.

[karahalloway]

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 15 - Not Without Obligation

Fandom: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Harper gets a surprise visit from Christian... but are his intentions sincere?

Word Count: 2,800 (short for me, I know enjoy it while you can 😆)

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, angst, possible ulterior motives)

Chapter theme song:

A/N: I know it's been more than a hot minute since I've updated this series! 😅 This is in part because I got sidetracked by Sleepless in New York also on my list to finish, I know, and then I took most of the summer off from writing. But also in part because I kinda got stuck on how to actually continue with this series... but, I now have a plan! *rubs hands together gleefully* and you ain't gonna like it, sorry, not sorry. So, with this long-awaited installment, I hope to be back in my usual groove and will be posting with some semblance of regularity again. Thanks so much for bearing with me!

A/N2: This is also my submission for @choicesseptemberchallenge2023 Day 25 Prompt - Secret, Surprise I’m only 2 days late

Chapter 15 - Not Without Obligation

Making my way back to my room, I try to push down the conflicting emotions that are roiling inside of me.

On one hand, I get where Drake is coming from, and why he shut the door in my face. We are no longer alone in Applewood and even the faintest whiff of impropriety could implode the carefully strategised work that the royal PR team has put in to try and resuscitate my public image.

And me getting caught outside of the room of a guy who not only is not Christian, but who I have no justifiable reason for seeking out at the butt-crack of dawn in the first place, would definitely scupper the assertion that I'm not a two-timing hussy. Especially since I rushed out of my room earlier wearing nothing more than a t-shirt and panties.

Mitigating factors, they are not.

But while the rational part of my brain knows that Drake is only trying to look out for me, I can't help but feel a pang of dejection at the abruptness with which he — very literally — shut me out, even though he promised yesterday that he wouldn't do something like that to me again.

Because God knows that it had been hard enough to get him to open up the first time!

And even though I'm not expecting him to have completely reversed his habitudes overnight, I guess I'd been hoping that our conversation in the barn would've prompted some kind of step in the desired direction.

Because it's clear that the bruises on my neck unnerved him. The turmoil on his face had made that clear. As the marks are not just some haphazard side-effect of our frantic love-making. They are a very real and visible reminder of the tangible strength of his feelings — and the fact that he lost control of them.

And as much as I understand the knee-jerk cause of his reaction, the last thing I want — or need — right now is for Drake to distance himself from me because he's scared of hurting me again.

That, I could not cope with.

"Demoiselle," nods Allard as I arrive back at my room.

I flash him a distracted smile on auto-pilot. He saw and heard what happened. There is no point rehashing anything. Especially since this isn't something he or Schweitzer can help with.

The weight of my Guard's concerned gaze flick over me as I shuffle past, but they both remain silent, no doubt sensing that I'm not in the mood for conversation.

Shutting the door behind me, I close my eyes as I lean back against the solidness of the wood.

Why are things never simple 'round here?

I really wish Drake and I could've taken a moment to talk things through. Because today's Apple Harvest Festival is expected to see hundreds of people descend onto Applewood to not only celebrate this year's bountiful crop of Cordonian Rubies, but to also catch a glimpse of the new King and his future Queen.

And if I thought that cornering Drake at the apple pick had been hard, the chances of being able to do so today are going to be slim to none.

But the rest of the week doesn't offer any better options because tomorrow we're off to Italy, where we'll likely have even less opportunity for privacy given the high-profile and international nature of the coming engagements.

My eyes snap open. I have to talk to him now.

As much as Drake may be concerned about protecting what's left of my image, I'm not going to let him use the inconvenience of our circumstances as an excuse to hide behind his insecurities or erect walls between us. Because the hard truth is that there's never going to be a good time to talk unless we make time.

Which is exactly what I am going to do, possible scandal be damned. I cannot let a tenuous fear borne out of a possible public backlash hold me back. My relationship with Drake is worth infinitely more to me than whatever garbage the paps may decide to print because some aristo decided to tattle on me if I get caught sneaking back into his room.

Because, let's face it. Even if I do end up on the front pages tomorrow (for all the wrong reasons), the fact of the matter is that any photo, any situation — no matter how sordid or innocent — can be spun any which way.

I've learnt that the hard way. So, I may as well use it to my own advantage for once.

Pushing myself away from the door, I march into my walk-in closet with renewed determination. Pulling the t-shirt that I'd slept in over my head, I quickly throw on a bra, some jean shorts and a black tank top.

Slotting my bare feet into my well-worn Sketchers, I make my way over to the French doors that lead out onto balcony so I can try to figure out the best way to scamper over to Drake's room without killing myself, given that I stand a better chance of slipping under the aristo's nosy radar via the balcony than going back through the corridor.

Hopefully, I can—

Tap, tap tap.

I stop mid-stride at the sound of knocking coming from the other side of my door.

Turning around, I contemplate whether I should respond, or pretend that I hadn't heard.

I have precious little time if I want to catch Drake before he disappears on me to do... whatever it is that he does in the mornings before the start of a royal event.

So, if I want to make it to his room, I need to go now before he finishes getting dressed.

But, then again, there is only a very small number of people at court who'd come directly to my room to talk to me. Especially at this time in the morning.

So, it could be important. It could be about Tariq...

...it could be Drake.

The latch clicks open.

I glance anxiously back towards the balcony, trying to decide if I should—

"May I come in?"

I whirl around in surprise at the sound of the unexpected voice. "Christian!"

He pokes his head 'round the door. "I... I didn't catch you in a state of undress, did I?"

"No! No... I was already dressed," I admit, trying to be as casual as possible as I quickly brush my hair over my shoulders in a haphazard attempt to try and cover up the bruises, given that I hadn't thought to slather any cover-up over myself yet.

Christian definitely doesn’t need to be asking questions about those!

"Ah, good!" he responds, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. "You're an early riser, like myself."

"You can thank the Beaumonts," I mutter under my breath, glancing guiltily back toward the balcony.

So much for stealing a much-needed moment with Drake...

"I apologise for the intrusion," Christian continues, crossing the space between us, "especially at such an early hour. But I was hoping to catch you alone before the start of the Apple Harvest Festival."

One word catches my attention. "A-Alone...?"

He comes to a stop in front of me. "Very much so."

Anxiety flares in the pit of my stomach as Drake's words from yesterday swirl through my mind.

...he's trying to win you back.

And it suddenly hits me that I haven't been alone — truly alone — with Christian since the day of the Jamboree. When he took me into the hedge maze and offered me a duchy.

My mind starts to whirl.

Had that been the start of this... crusade? The fact that I turned him down? Does he still think he can change my mind? Is he simply incapable of accepting 'no' as an answer?

I force my gaze up to meet his.

His emerald green eyes behold me calmly, with maybe a hint of excitement. But I cannot read his intention.

"Wh-why?" I finally blurt out.

A smile spreads across his face. "To bestow upon you your letters patent, of course!"

I gape at him. "My letters of what?"

He chuckles good-naturedly at my evident confusion. "Letters patent. Itis a type of royal decree that formally confers some manner of privilege onto the names designee — an office of state, a coat of arms, a commercial monopoly... or, in this case, your new title as Duchess of Valtoria."

With a flourish, he pulls out a small, leather-bound box that he's been hiding behind his back.

I stare at it mutely.

"It won't bite, I promise," he assures me wryly.

Reaching up with a tepid smile, I accept the box, which is a lot heavier than it looks.

Opening it up, I find a medieval-looking document nestled in the lid, complete with densely-packed Chancery script and and a historiated initial C embossed with the stylised image of the Cordonian royal crest.

Peering at the text — which I can only assume is an archaic form of French — I can just about make out the odd word, like my name, Christian's name, and Valtoria. But the rest remains completely incomprehensible.

Presumably some grand declarations about the bestowal...

In the bottom part of the box rests a cream-coloured envelope also bearing the Cordonian royal crest, along with my name, though this time written in delicate cursive lettering.

"What's this?" I ask Christian, lifting the letter up.

"Your papers of naturalisation," he informs me. "Along with your new passport and ID card."

I glance up at him in surprise. "I am now a Cordonian citizen?"

"It would not have been possible to issue the letters patent otherwise," he says. "Even a king must abide by the diktats of the law."

"I... don't need to sign anything?"

"The US Consulate was very accommodating, given the unique nature of the circumstances."

My stomach twists unexpectedly. "Oh..."

Dual citizenship is a good thing, right?

Returning my attention to the box, I see that the envelope has been concealing a large, intricate-looking seal bearing what appears to be the stylised outline of a rampant phoenix, next to which sits a signet ring with the same image.

"Does it meet expectations?" asks Christian.

"I'm not sure I know what I'd been expecting..." I admit, running a finger over the lines of the mythical bird, marvelling at the level of detail that's been put into creating such a realistic rendering, complete with individual licks of flame spouting from the tail feathers.

"Any egregious spelling errors?"

"Not that I can see," I admit, glancing up at him. "But—"

"Excellent!" he declares, reaching over the lid of the box to deftly pluck the signet ring out from its nest of blue silk.

Before I have a chance to react, he's clasped my hand in his to poise the heavy circlet of gold at the tip of my ring finger.

"Wait!" I gasp in the face of the unexpectedly intimate turn of events. "What are you—?"

"It would be remiss of me if I did not verify the correctness of the sizing," he advises, meeting my panicked gaze calmly.

"You don't need t—"

"It would be my pleasure," he insists, slipping the ring onto the digit before I can protest further.

As he withdraws his hand, my eyes fall onto the spot where the cool metal's unfamiliar weight now encircles the base of my finger.

"Perfect," Christian declares with a satisfied smile, brushing his thumb over the phoenix insignia.

I stare at the band with an uneasily mix of feelings swirling in my chest. "Christian, I—"

"Let's celebrate, shall we?" he announces, pulling back to click his fingers with a decisive snap.

On cue, the door behind Christian swings open to admit a veritable procession of servants bearing ice buckets, champagne, crystal flutes and tiny servings of finger food.

"Wait..." I stammer in the face of organised onslaught. "They were waiting outside this whole time?"

"I may have take a page out of your party planning book," he admits with a grin while the industrious staff set about transforming my bedroom into a first-class tea room. "Seeing the success you had with Drake on his birthday, I thought I would try my hand at surprising you on this important day."

"And that's great, but I never agreed—"

"Didn't you?" Christian asks with a level look as he nabs a miniature scone from the tray of a passing server.

I shake my head. "No, I—"

"Because I specifically recall you giving your unambiguous consent at yesterday's apple pick to proceed with finalising your new status," he states, taking a bite out of the pastry.

I open my mouth, but promptly shut it as the conversation from the orchard floats back into my consciousness.

"...having the paperwork squared away before our departure would grant significant boon for your image."

"Oh. Okay..."

"Oh, fuck..." I mutter as the cold hand of hindsight clamps down on the nape of my neck.

Christian had obviously mischaracterised my somewhat dazed reaction as some kind of explicit affirmation.

And since Drake's appearance yesterday had interrupted the conversation at that key moment, I never had a chance to correct the misunderstanding.

But I need to. Because once again, Christian has taken matters into his own hands and acted without my my prior agreement or approval t. Just like he had done when he decided to send me away during the Coronation Ball, only to then bring me back to court as his mistress, not to mention spring an actual duchy on me without any warning.

And while his heart's probably been in the right place each and every time, I'm not sure that I can cope with any more bolts from the blue.

Especially when they so drastically upend my life.

Heaving a breath, I look back up at the King of Cordonia again. "Look, Christian, I really appreciate all of this, but I think there's been a major—"

The loud bang! of the champagne bottle shooting its cork across the room makes me jump.

Turning around, I can see that the gold-coloured liquid is already in the process of being dispensed into a pair of waiting crystal flutes.

"I hope you like this Moët & Chandon Imperial Vintage 1946 that I had picked out," Christian murmurs, brushing a hand over the small of my back. "It is an exceptional cuvée with notes of citrus, apple and pear — an apt combination, I thought, given the occasion."

"Because of the pear trees in Valtoria..." I surmise heavily, watching a footman bring over a pair of freshly-filled champagne flutes with a foreboding note of finality.

"Exactly," confirms Christian, grabbing a glass from the tray. "A beautifully complimentary pairing. One that hope we can both enjoy for many years to come."

"Yes, but—"

"Let's toast, shall we?" prompts Christian, cutting me off yet again as the footman proffers me the other serving of expensive bubbly.

I stare at it like a poison pill.

This is what Drake had warned me about, isn't it? That Christian would seek to manoeuvre me into a corner like a chess piece... By giving with one hand, only to take with the other when the time came for the chips to fall due. Because what better way to create an unimpeachable sense of obligation than by making me into a duchess? A literal vassal to the Crown? Required to do the King's bidding, no matter the cost?

And if that really is his aim, then he has certainly been succeeding.

But at the same time, I am not sure I can trust my assessment. Christian has given no indication, one way or another, as to where his goals lay. And even if the misunderstanding had been genuine, to turn him down now would not only be inexplicably rude, but maybe also dangerous?

Would I be jeopardising Christian's support in the hunt for Tariq and my quest to set the record straight if I offend him by throwing all his heartfelt effort back in his face? Especially when I don't know for certain what Christian's motives are?

Because what if Drake is wrong? What if there is no hidden agenda and I'm just massively overthinking this entire thing because I've been burned once already and now everyone looks suspect... Even — and especially — when I'm being offered help?

"Harper?" queries Christian. "Everything alright?"

I shake myself out of my stupor and grab the crystal flute. "I'm fine. Just... Trying to come to grips with it all."

"There will be plenty of time for that," he assures me with a grin, raising his glass. "To the new Duchess of Valtoria!"

I clink the delicate crystal in my hand against his with a leaden feeling in my stomach.

There's no going back now...

For better or for worse, I have just become an aristo.

The story continues in Chapter 16 - Snakes in the Garden

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