#choices: the royal romance fanfics

[ao719]

What's Already Mine

A/N: This is a part of my Us Again series. Submission for @choicesflashfics using prompt #2. Not beta’d. Please excuse any errors.

Title Inspiration: Already Mine - Us The Duo

Book/Pairing: TRR; Liam x MC (Katherine)

Rating: G • Warnings: None.

Word count: 2500

Catch up here

Both my suit jacket and arm are draped over Katherine’s shoulders as we walk back towards the hotel from her old bar where I found her. 

We’ve walked in silence for a few blocks and it’s deafening despite the bustling city around us. We’ve seemed to have only a silent understanding of the situation; neither of us has said a word. 

My mind is too muddled to speak. I don’t know what to say because there’s so much to be said but nothing all at once. I don’t want to ask if she’s alright because obviously she isn’t. I don’t need to ask what’s wrong because I know. I know why she was there. I know why she broke down when she saw me. 

Despite knowing, I don’t know what to say … and I hate myself for it. 

I glance down at her when I hear a sniffle; she’s staring at the ground as she walks holding my jacket securely around herself. I watch her hand poke up from beneath the lapels to wipe a tear from her cheek and I feel my heart break a little more. 

I want to tell her it’s ok, that it’ll be ok, that we’ll be ok. I want her to tell me the same. But I know that neither of us can say that right now with certainty. 

So we continue to walk … in silence. 

****

Once back at the hotel, Katherine and I step inside our suite. I shut the door behind me and start to follow her as she walks into the bedroom; now that my arm isn’t around her, I notice that she’s a little wobbly on her feet thanks to her slightly tipsy state. She didn’t have much to drink, only a couple of glasses of wine at the gala, and based on the tab I paid at the bar before leading her out, I’d surmise no more than two drinks there, but I know she’s barely eaten anything today which is doing her no favors and she’s always been a bit of a lightweight as it is. 

When I enter the bedroom steps after Katherine, I see her draping my suit jacket on a chair. She then reaches back, attempting to grab the zipper of her gown, but she can’t quite reach it. When she becomes frustrated, evident by the small huffs of breath she keeps releasing, I step up behind her and gently cover my hand with hers. She goes completely still. After a moment, she glances over her shoulder; her eyes are rimmed red and still misty when she meets my gaze. I give a soft nod, and she slowly lowers her hand as she looks straight ahead again. 

As I lower the zipper of her gown, I let my thumb graze her spine, and I swallow thickly. When was the last time I touched my wife like this? The last time that my fingers brushed against her bare skin? I think back … it’s been a year. We were in Ramsford for the Beaumont Bash and we both had a lot to drink that night. I vaguely remember stumbling into our room, my hands tugging at the fabric of her dress and her arms wrapping around my neck as I kicked the door shut. Before that night, it had been months since we’d last been intimate, and before that, even more months. When we woke the next morning, we showered and dressed without a word, and when we arrived back at the palace, she went to the east wing while I headed to my study. It was awkward in a way and treated like it never happened. I think that’s when the deteriorating state of our marriage started to slowly consume my thoughts. 

Once her zipper is lowered enough, Katherine takes a step away and turns to face me, holding the front of her gown against her chest so it doesn’t fall. I slip my hands into my pockets to stop myself from reaching for her because I don’t know if that’s something I’m allowed to do anymore. We stare at one another, and my eyes are silently pleading with her. Talk to me. Please. Talk. To. Me. I can swear I see a similar plea in her own eyes. I open my mouth to speak but quickly snap it shut because I still have no idea what to say. 

“Thank you,” she whispers. 

“Of course,” I nod in reply. After staring at me almost expectantly, she lets out a soft breath and turns. “Katherine, I …” 

She stops and looks back at me; I see a flicker of something … of what I think is hope mixed with desperation and worry. “Yeah …?”

I hold my breath and her gaze for a moment before shaking my head. “Nothing …” 

Her breath subtly hitches in her throat as she drops my gaze and nods. When she disappears into the bathroom, I hang my head, squeezing my eyes shut in disappointment. 

Disappointment with myself, where we are, and my inability to grasp how to fix it. 

I begin to loosen my tie, but I freeze as my eyes shift to the bathroom door when I swear I hear a muffled cry from behind it. 

Where did it go? The love I once knew? It’s lost in the dark The light can’t shine through Where did we go? I can’t see it now I’m fighting the night To find you somehow…

*******

My fingers are steepled over my lips as I stare out the window of my study. My mind is in the same place as it has been for the past week since returning home: my marriage. Hell, my mind was here before our trip, but now, it’s all I can think about morning, noon, and night.

Katherine and I have yet to speak about what happened in New York. The morning after finding her in the bar, we sat through a silent breakfast followed by a few appearances that were scheduled before heading to the airport for our flight home. On the jet, I almost said something but decided against trying to have that conversation 35,000 feet in the air with no escape if we needed one. 

In hindsight … maybe that wouldn’t have been the worst idea. 

Since we’ve returned home, things have gone back to exactly how they’ve been. I work through the day and go to the east wing for our nighttime routine with the children. But instead of leaving the moment they go to sleep to go back to my study or the west wing … I’ve lingered. I think she believes I’m just waiting to be sure the children are asleep before slipping out, not realizing I’m there for her. I’m trying to give myself the courage to bring it up, but I find an excuse every damn time. It’s not good timing. It’s late. The kids are there. Whatever my mind can conjure up, it does. My fight or flight has turned to strictly flight; I flee every time. And either she’s having the same thoughts and coming up with the same excuses to not bring it up herself … or she’s completely given up, which after what happened in New York, it’s plausible. 

The bottom line is this: I know we’ve reached our limit. I know, one way or another, a very difficult conversation is eventually coming. 

At this point, it’s inevitable … and it fucking terrifies me. 

I’m so lost in thought that I don’t even register the knock on my study door. It’s not until I feel a shove against my arm and hear my name that I finally snap out of it and glance up to see Drake staring at me questioningly. 

“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head as I straighten in my chair. “I didn’t hear you come in.” 

“No shit,” Drake playfully scoffs. “I knocked a few times … called your name when I came inside, but you were zoned out.” 

I release a breath and nod, rubbing my eyes with the pads of my fingers. “Yeah … sorry. It’s been a long week.” I blink a few times to focus my vision and when I do, I see Drake now sitting across from me. His arms are folded across his chest and his brow is arched. “What?”

“Seriously, Li … what’s been going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve caught you like this over the last few months. You seem like you have a lot more than just the stress of running a kingdom on your mind.”

I look away, unable to hold his gaze. Neither Katherine nor I have ever mentioned anything to our friends pertaining to the state of our marriage. We’ve put on the same show in front of them that we have in front of everyone else. 

“Liam … talk to me.” 

I look at my best friend again, trying to rein in the sadness I feel. If I can’t talk to Katherine, maybe talking to someone will help. I clasp my hands together and lean forward against my desk as I let out a heavy sigh.

And I end up breaking down as I tell him everything. 

Drake listens without interruption, but he doesn’t hide the surprise in his expression. When I finish, I can see him still trying to process everything I’ve just told him. 

“I never would have guessed … any of that,” Drake finally says. 

“We’re good at hiding it,” I say. Too good. “It’s just … it’s become our norm. It’s like second nature now … putting on the front.” 

“Why haven’t you guys ever said anything?”

I can hear the hint of hurt in his tone. “I don’t … I don’t know,” I reply truthfully. “I can’t speak for her, but for me … I guess it’s … I feel like I’ve already let her down … and the kids. I didn’t want to let my friends down, too.” 

“Liam, you’re not letting any of us down.” 

“I’m supposed to maintain this image of my life. Acknowledging that my marriage had completely fallen apart to myself was hard enough. Saying it out loud to someone else …” I shake my head. 

“So what the hell are you going to do?” Drake asks. “I mean, you’re going to fix it, right?”

“I don’t know,” I scoff with a shrug. “I don’t know if it can be fixed.” 

Drake’s brow furrows. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that …” I trail off, chewing the inside of my cheek, not wanting to say my next words, but they come anyway. “I’m saying that perhaps this is the end of our story.”

“What the fuck, Li?” Drake barks as he abruptly stands from his chair. The reaction startles me, and I look at him, unable to hide my surprise. “How could you even say that?”

“Do you think that’s what I want?” I snap. “Because it’s not! But I can’t force us to get back to where we once were!”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Drake chides, and when I open my mouth to retort, he leans forward, getting right in my face. “It’s bullshit. And. You. Know. It.” He stands upright. “To just accept defeat is not only the easy, coward’s way out, it’s not you!”

“Drake—”

“No, I don’t want to hear it,” Drake interrupts. “What you and Katherine have … it’s the fucking dream, Li. And I’m not talking about the literal fairytale crap,” he says, waving his hands dismissively. “I’m talking about the real shit. I watched you two; I had a front-row fucking seat. I watched your story unfold. I watched you both fight like hell to be together. And here you are now, a decade later, and you’re ready to wave the white flag because you two hit a rough patch that you won’t acknowledge to each other? Fuck. That.”

As I stare up at him, I feel a tear slip down my cheek … because I know he’s right. I clear my throat and snap my gaze toward the window, trying to fight back my emotions.

“I know you both, Li, and neither of you would keep putting yourself through this if you truly wanted to walk away. That’s gotta stand for something.” 

My gaze shifts up to his again. “I don’t want to walk away,” I say through a cracked whisper.

“Then you fight.”

Where did it go? The passionate fire? We can’t find the flame And now we’re both tired What do we do When all we have left Is dying for life But on its last breath?

****

That evening, as I’m finishing up my work for the day and finalizing some plans I’ve set into motion, I hear a knock on my study door and call for them to enter. When I look up, Katherine steps inside. “Hi,” I greet her as I rise from my chair.

“Hello,” Katherine responds. She quietly closes the door behind her. “I’m sorry to bother—”

“You’re not bothering me,” I interrupt as I walk around my desk. 

Katherine swallows, holding my gaze as she subtly nods. “I, uh … I was just trying to get things in order with my schedule for next week, but it’s … did you have it cleared?”

“I did,” I answer, and my heart is pounding in my chest as I watch the confusion fill her expression while I try to keep mine impassive. 

“Why?”

“Because we’re going on a trip.”

Katherine’s brows raise. “We?”

“Yes,” I nod. “We … as in you and me.” 

“A trip for what?”

“That’s still to be determined,” I say cryptically. 

Katherine furrows her brow. “Is it a work-related thing?” 

Even though I expected her to think that, it still hurts when she asks. “No,” I shake my head. “It’s not.”

“I’m confused …” 

“About?”

“We … we haven’t gone on a trip that wasn’t duty-related in a long time,” Katherine says. “At least … not together.”

“I think it’s safe to say we’re a bit overdue,” I quip. 

“But what about—”

“Eleanor and Lucas are going to have some quality time with their Uncle Drake,” I interrupt again, knowing what she’s wondering. “I spoke with him and made all of the arrangements already.” 

Katherine lets out a sigh as she continues to stare at me. “I …” She trails off, shaking her head. “I don’t understand …”

My impassive wall drops and I sigh as I let the emotion I’ve been trying to conceal fill my features. “Katherine …” I speak just above a whisper. “You and I … we’re lost.” 

I see her eyes slightly widen as she lets out a breath before she drops my gaze, but not before I see the pain fill her expression. It’s as if hearing me finally acknowledge the truth we’ve both known but have remained silent about out loud has gravely wounded her. 

“We’re lost and we both know it. And we can’t keep running from it. We need to face it. We need to … to talk about it and figure out if we’re going to find ourselves again — find us again — or …” I trail off, struggling to say the next words out loud. “Or if we’re going to walk away from this … from each other … because we can’t keep living this way.” 

When Katherine looks back up at me, tears trickle down her cheeks. She parts her lips to speak but stops as she lifts a hand and rests it against her throat to where I assume the lump is that’s stolen her voice. More tears fall and more confusion crosses her expression as she continues to hold my gaze. 

“I cleared both of our schedules for the next two weeks,” I continue to explain, “and made arrangements for this trip … just for us.” 

Katherine’s breath hitches. “Where … where are we going?”

“To the private island …” 

I hear the soft breath of acknowledgment Katherine releases. 

We can’t run there; we can’t hide or avoid each other. And she knows it. We’ll be left with no other choice but to face this … to face one another. 

We stare at each other, and I’m certain the worry and fear of the unknown of what this trip will bring that I’m feeling is the same thing she’s feeling. 

We both know we’re going into this completely broken. And we both know that we’re either going to come out pieced back together and on the mend to being whole again … or we’re going to come out irreparably shattered.

I can’t control you Or what your heart will decide But I’ll never stop Trying to fall back in love with what’s already mine…

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

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[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]

All That She Wants Chapter 5: Consequences

Series: All That She Wants

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake, Liam x Olivia

Word Count: 1,094

Rating: M

Warnings for this chapter: none

My other stuff: Master List.

Riley stared down at the plastic stick in her hands as a myriad of feelings washed over her.

Another negative test.

How? It had been 6 months since she’d first set her sights on Drake. They had been sleeping together regularly ever since.

Frequently even.

Disappointment and disbelief were the first emotions. She had conceived Ellie on her honeymoon with Liam. Xander had taken only two months of trying.

Frustration and relief were an odd combination, revealing her conflicted motives. Her original goal of procreation was being thwarted, and that was frustrating.

But another negative result meant she would have to keep sleeping with Drake. Not just sleeping with him, but basically dating him, per the arrangement she had agreed to.

She hadn’t meant to, but she found herself enjoying the dating part. It felt good to be wanted, to be pursued, wooed, romanced, valued.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear him until he was right behind her. “What are you doing?”

Her body jolted as awareness of her surroundings rushed back in. “Liam! I thought you had meetings all morning!”

“I did. But the Duke of Rothsford spilled his coffee on me and I came back up to change.” Astonishment crept into his voice. “Is that a pregnancy test?”

“It’s none of your business, is what it is!” She snapped as she moved her hand behind her back.

“Oh, I think it’s most certainly my business if my wife, whom I haven’t had sex with in months, is taking a pregnancy test!”

“Try a year and a half, Liam!” she bit back furiously.

He looked momentarily taken aback. “Has it been that long?”

“Yes!” She hated the tears that gathered in her eyes.

Liam faltered for a moment. He looked at her with compassion, his hand reached out toward her in a comforting gesture but froze halfway there. His voice was icy as he demanded, “Why are you taking a pregnancy test?”

“I wanted to see if I was pregnant, Liam, that’s why!”

“So, you’re having an affair?”

She gaped at him, the anger in his tone confusing her. “You literally told me that if I wanted another baby, to find someone else to be the father!”

“That was hyperbole, Riley!” Liam was shaking with barely restrained fury. “The Queen of Cordonia can’t just have another man’s baby!”

“Oh, but you can sleep with Olivia and ignore your wife, and that’s fine?”

“I—”

“Exactly. You’re a hypocrite, Liam. What if your mistress got pregnant? Then what?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Liv doesn’t even want children! She took the necessary precautions to prevent that years ago!”

“Wow.” Riley shook her head as anger replaced all the despair and sadness she usually felt when confronted with her husband’s infidelity. “You didn’t even try to deny it.”

His shoulders slumped as his fury abated. “I’m sorry, Riley. You deserve better than I’ve given you. I know that.”

“Did you ever love me?”

“I do love you, Riley. Things with Liv and I are…. complicated.”

“No, Liam, you don’t love me. If you loved me, you wouldn’t have shut me out. Something changed somewhere along the way, and you didn’t bother to let me know.”

“I’m not disputing that things changed. Our marriage became…stale.”

She wasn’t sure which emotion was more prevalent as she took in his assessment of their relationship. There was an ample amount of rage tempered by an overabundance of grief.

She had never stopped loving him. Had never stopped trying.

But the unvarnished truth was that he had left their marriage, at least emotionally, long ago, and there was nothing she could do about it.

For the first time since she had said I do, she admitted to herself that this was not the fairytale they had sold to the press. This was not her happily ever after and Liam was not her prince charming. They had been living a lie from the moment he proposed.

“Why didn’t you just marry her in the first place?” she asked bitterly.

“I just told you…. she refused to have children. I needed an heir.”

“So, you married me for my uterus?”

A defensive note crept into his voice. “You knew the terms. You agreed—”

“I agreed to the marriage terms because I loved you, you fucking unbelievable bastard!”

“Riley, you’re upset. I understand. But once you calm down—”

“No.”

“No? No, what?”

“No, to whatever is about to come out of your mouth. I’m done worrying about what’s best for you! It’s my turn, Liam!”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you have three choices. Either give me a baby, let someone else give me a baby, or let’s just get divorced and I’ll do as I damn well please.”

“Riley, we can’t just—”

“Those are your choices. Even the king can’t force someone to stay married to him against her will. Just imagine the scandal that would cause!”

He struggled to maintain his composure when what he wanted to do was throw things, yell, lock her in the room, and forbid her to leave it. Instead, he took a steadying breath and counted silently to ten before he spoke. “We said forever, Riley.”

“You promised to love me, Liam.”

“Who is it?”

“Excuse me?”

His voice was tight as he searched her face for answers. “Who are you sleeping with? Who is stabbing his king in the back?”

For the first time in their entire marriage, Riley had the upper hand. She gave him a self-satisfied smirk as she tossed the plastic stick into the waste bin. She crossed the room to the door, opened it, then turned back to face him. “You have two days to decide which option pleases you most, my king.” Then she was gone.

“Son of a bitch!” Liam picked up the nearest object and hurled it at the door that had just closed.

Glass shattered against the wood, as water and petals exploded outward.

Who the fuck had been sending her flowers?

He had barely noticed the vases of fresh-cut blooms that had changed every few days, assuming housekeeping had been putting them there to brighten the room. Now the certainty that someone was not just fucking his wife but romancing her took hold.

Something had to be done. A decision had to be made, and it had to be made quickly.

He pulled out his phone and quickly punched in Olivia’s number. “We have an urgent matter to discuss. I need you to drop whatever you’re doing and come to the palace immediately.”

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC Holidays 2023

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Our 2023 Holiday Event will run from November 21, 2023 - January 6, 2024

We want to make this event less structured to allow writers and artists more freedom to create, so while we encourage you to use the prompts provided and hope they'll spur creativity, any seasonal holiday-themed creations can be submitted for this event and contest.

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4 - One participant will be selected as February 2024's Creator of the Month ** 5- One participant will have their MC / OC selected for February 2024's MC / OC of the Month **

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PROMPTS

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Each eligible participant can get up to 6 chances to win one of the 5 prizes: 1) You will receive one chance per fic/artwork submitted per week. 2) You can only earn one entry per week (Sunday through Saturday). If you submit two creations in the same week, you will only be given one chance. So spread those creations out!

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A raffle for all five prizes will take place no later than Monday, January 8, 2024. To have your name included in the raffle for prizes, you must:

Submit a fic or artwork that meets the rules of the contest as described above.

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While everyone is encouraged to participate in this event, the following creators will not be eligible to win art commissions. However, they will be eligible for the February 2024 Creator of the Month and MC / OC of the Month:

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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..."

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[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.

[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

[jerzwriter]

One Night in Cordonia Chapter 8: All's Well That Ends Well

Series: One Night in Cordonia, a @choicesprompts a Round Robin Event. Fandom: TRR, with some OH introduced here Pairings: You'll See lol Word count: 2.2k (I went over a little - sorry!) Rating: Mature Warnings: talks about sex, innuendos, language Prompt: Cocktails, Gala - @choicesjunechallenge A/N: Every now and then, it's fun to just take your characters and put them in different surroundings. This lil' crack fic allowed me to do just that. I was going to say it's not really "my" Ethan and Tobias here, but, to be honest, it could be them in my Ethan/Kaycee world. Thanks for putting this together and including me Angela!

Next author: ??? @angelasscribbles ???

Summary: It's Leo's social season. The day is Beaumont bash after the formal dinner is done and the royal couple has left. Anton sends his second in command, Claudius, to spread a fog, "Death Smash," that would leave the guests paralyzed and he would attack. But the gas delivered was Shagging smog 2.0 by mistake, leading to a sexual frenzy amongst guests. Anton himself goes to check and falls prey to the gas. The only unaffected members are Max (immune), Leo (because he was in the gardens), and Olivia (partially affected, trying to fight the effects).

The pretty brunette flight attendant was shaky on her feet, and for once, turbulence nor the ridiculously high heels Constantine insisted his flight attendants wear was the cause. No, this time, the mesmerizing aqua-blue eyes of her passenger were the culprit. She hadn’t dared to look at them directly for fear of what they could do to her, but she could feel them raking over as she attempted to pour his bourbon. She only hoped he didn’t notice how she trembled.  

“That’s good right there, darlin’,’ he droned, his husky voice rolling off his tongue like honey. “Any more than that, and I’ll have to wonder if you’re trying to take advantage of me.”

A blush settled on her cheeks as she attempted to come up with a reply. Luckily, the other, equally aesthetically pleasing passenger spared her when he sighed with disgust.

“For Christ’s sake, Tobias, could you maybe have just an ounce of decorum?”

“You know Ethan, decorum is overrated,” he winked. “I prefer fun. You may want to try it sometime.”

“I know how to have fun, and it’s not harassing our flight attendant.” 

Ethan looked over to the young woman, who could not look away before his sapphire orbs met hers. Fuck! She thought because those eyes would render her equally as helpless.

“I apologize for my colleague. Apparently, he was raised by wolves.”

“Hey!” Tobias jumped in. “My mom would kick your ass if she heard you say that!”

“Really? Well, I’m sure she’d love to hear how you are treating this young woman,” Ethan pulled out his phone. “Shall I dial her?”

Tobias threw both hands up in surrender. “Nope! Truce! Truce!”

A satisfied smirk crossed Ethan’s face. “I think you’ll be left in peace for the remainder of the flight,” he smiled. Completely oblivious to the look of disappointment on the woman’s face as she exited the cabin.

Tobias sipped the amber liquor and let out a slow moan. “Mmmm.  This is amazing,” he growled. “Have you tried yours yet? I know you’re a total snob, but I swear, this shit will make you weak in the knees.”

Ethan eyed his untouched beverage and shut his eyes.

“I’ll get to it,” he grumbled. “This whole thing, it’s just… it’s obscene!”

Tobias leaned over and took the papers his companion was reading out of his hands, shoving them into the attaché at his side.

“Hey, what are you….”

“Shut up,” Tobias spat. “Seriously, Ethan. The hospital insisted we go, so just sit back and enjoy the ride. We’re on one of the most luxurious private jets on the planet on someone else’s dime. Our every need is expected to be catered to, and if you hadn’t interrupted… that might have included the beautiful Ashley.”

“Ashley?” He asked.

“The flight attendant…”

“Her name is Amber, you idiot. And sexual harassment isn’t something I wish to add to our resume on this trip.”

“Ethan, relax. I was joking!”

“I’m sorry, I just hate this whole thing. The wealthiest people in the world summoning us across the damn Atlantic to take care of their potential PR disaster is not what I went into medicine for.”

“I don’t disagree,” Tobias shrugged. “But what they’re paying us for two days’ work will fund our department for the next year. So look at the bright side for a change Mr. Sour Pants.”

“You have a point,” Ethan grumbled. “Let’s just make this quick, get in and get out…”

“That was my plan with Am….”

“SHUT UP!” Ethan hollered as Tobias adjusted his sleep mask and drifted off, pleased he had accomplished his goal of getting under his boss’s skin.

~~~~

Upon landing, a heavily guarded motorcade awaited the two doctors and drove them to the Beaumont estate. 

“Is this still fun for you?” Ethan asked.

“Fuck yes! I’m living out some major James Bond fantasies right now.”

Ethan fought the genuine smile that attempted to spread on his lips; maybe there was something to Tobias’s constant glass-half-full approach, but he wasn’t about to admit it.

When they arrived at the scene, Constantine and a Lieutenant from the King’s Guard greeted them at once. The Lieutenant handed each man a gas mask.

“Gentlemen,” Constantine enthused. “We are so happy to have you here! It’s not our first incident with shag smog in Cordonia, but this one is not responding to the normal antidote. That’s why we called in the experts.”

Ethan quickly adjusted his mask, but Tobias made no effort to put his on, earning him a questioning glare.

“No need,” Tobias smiled. “I’ve been exposed in the past, so I’m immune.”

“Of course you have,” Ethan groused. “How bad is the situation?”

“Worse than you could imagine!” The Lieutenant began. “There are only a handful of people present who weren’t affected, reasons unclear at this time. Some may have had prior exposure, some, well… this could be their natural state of being; it’s hard to tell.”

“OK, so we have a handful of people who haven’t turned into sex-crazed lunatics,” Tobias assessed. “But how many have? Do you know how many were in attendance?”

“Several hundred,” a woman’s voice rang out from behind, and Tobias’s body went rigid. He’d know that voice anywhere. “Anyone who is anyone in Cordonian society is here, plus a few plebeians from other nations who are delusional enough to imagine they can fit in with us.”

Tobias turned slowly toward the red-haired beauty, salacious grin in place.

“You say plebeians with such disdain, Duchess. From what I recall, you haven’t always minded rolling around in the dirt with at least… some of us.”

Olivia’s eyes narrowed, her icy gaze meeting Tobias’s heated stare. “You!” she hissed.

Ethan clapped his friend on the back. “It’s so good to see you have fans everywhere. Please tell me you made her acquaintance at a Cordonian History seminar.”

“Yeah,” Tobias chuckled. “Something like that. It’s been a long time, Duchess.”

“I’d prefer it if you called me Olivia,” she seethed.

“Heh! That’s not what you wanted to be called last time we were together.”

Constantine turned to Ethan with a look of distress. “Are you sure the sex pollen isn’t impacting him?”

“No,” Ethan sighed wearily, “Sadly, that’s just him.”

“Tobias?” a naked Maxwell hollered as he approached the group. “Is that you?”

Ethan turned to Constantine, aghast. “I thought you said all the impacted were contained!”

“They are! But that’s Maxwell and… sadly, that’s just… him.”

“It’s me,” Tobias nodded, averting his eyes. He removed his lab coat and tossed it in Max’s direction. “Would you put this on, for Christ’s sake! No one needs to see that damn hippo tattoo.”

“Oh, yeah…” Ethan rolled his eyes. “That’s what we don’t need to see!”

“So, what do we do, gentlemen?” The Lieutenant asked. “Normally, pumping in the antidote smog does the trick.”

“Not with this new variant,” Tobias interrupted. “It’s essentially a concentrated form of GHB in vaporized form.”

“So, how do we reverse this?” Constantine asked.

“There’s been some success with the administration of diclofenac and NSAIDS,” Ethan advised. “But that would require injecting each of the infected individually. There is no way to ‘gas’ everyone back to normal.”

“Well, that could take hours! Days!” A voice called out.

“This is my son, Leo, the crown prince.” Constantine chimed in.  “And I agree with him. We need to get this display of debauchery under control before it’s a scandal!”

“Forgive me if I’m more concerned about the people who were poisoned, not your Palace’s reputation.”

“Dr. Ramsey, I believe I’m paying you quite handsomely to take care of both,” Constantine reminded.

“Going room to room won’t be the fastest way,” Tobias agreed. “But it is the best way. Not only can we ensure it’s administered properly, but you can send someone in with us to confiscate everyone’s mobile devices. That will give you time to destroy any embarrassing pictures you wouldn’t want out there.”

Olivia spat out a laugh behind him. “Yes, Dr. Carrick. Because you, of all people, know about embarrassing blackmail photos. Don’t you?”  

Tobias shot her a knowing look. “We’ll talk after… Duchess. Right now, I have work to do.”

~~~~~

Tobias and Ethan ran up the ornate marble staircase; the team Constantine assembled to assist them quick on their heels.

“So, dare I ask what the deal is with you and Olivia?” Ethan asked.

A blissful look came over Tobias’s face, and Ethan momentarily wondered if his friend was being impacted by the gas.

“You know I’ve always had a thing for redheads. Plus, have you ever had a woman pull a switchblade out of her stilettos and threaten you in the middle of some of the most mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had in your life?”  

Ethan looked at Tobias in horror. “No! I can’t say I have.”

Tobias reached over and tapped his friend’s shoulder. “Well, add it to your bucket list, buddy. I promise you, it’s a rush.”

“Gentleman,” Leo interrupted, “if you wouldn’t mind visiting this room first. My brother, Liam, is in here.”

When the men entered, Liam immediately rushed toward them.

“What the…”

“Thank God you’re here!” Liam squealed. “This is shag smog… isn’t it?”

“It is,” Leo frowned. “But… you’re coherent… weren’t you impacted? Do you want to screw any of us right now?”

Liam calmly looked over the three men and shrugged. “I mean, you’re all cute… but not my type… and you’re my brother!”

“But if you weren’t impacted, why are you locked in here?” Leo asked.

“Madeline locked me in here. That woman has been dying to have her way with me and thought she believed this was her big chance.”

“Wait…” Tobias interrupted. “I’m not up on all of the societal gossip, and I know you people have your own little… proclivities… but,” he turned to Leo, “isn’t Madeline your fiance?”

“Technically,” Leo sighed.

“OK, then,” Tobias simpered. “Well, how about we leave you two to sort this out while we go administer the antidote to others.”

Leo nodded at Tobias, “Excellent idea. We’ll meet up again outside.”

~~~~~

Several hours later, Tobias joined a team of King’s Guards assigned to delete all incriminating images from guests' phones. He was having too much fun helping, chuckling repeatedly before hitting delete. He turned to Ethan with a grin.

“You know, if we want to retire early, all I need to do is forward some of these to our phones. Our offspring’s offspring could live off of the blackmail money.”

He heard what sounded like the knuckles cracking behind him and found Oliva glaring his way. “I assure you, that would be ill-advised.”

“Relax, sweetheart. Don’t you know a joke when you hear one?”

Ethan looked between the two and shook his head ruefully. “I know I’m going to live to regret this… but you mentioned blackmail photos before… what were you talking about?”  

Tobias howled with laughter. “She took some photos of me and planned on using them against me. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t factor in that I have no shame. So, she got nothing.”

“Oh dear God,” Ethan groaned. “What the hell was on… you know what… no… I don’t want to know.”

“Why?” Tobias asked. “They were just pictures of me… in various states of undress… some may have involved latex… and a couple had switchblades….”

“OK, STOP!”

“In one,” Tobias said, standing up with dramatic flair, “I was kind of bent over like this….”

“I SAID STOP!” Ethan yelled as he rushed away, muttering under his breath.

Amused, Olivia slid up next to Tobias and gently caressed his forearm.

“He’s a bit squeamish, no?”

“Hey, they can’t all be me,” he laughed. “You’re looking good, Dutchess… you know, I wouldn’t exactly turn down the opportunity to … engage… again….”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Tobias, you’re a terribly handsome man. And as much as I can appreciate someone who eagerly follows my orders and calls me Duchess throughout, I must admit… I rather get off on the fear in my companion's eyes when I unexpectedly pull a sharp object in the heat of the moment… the fact that you kind of got off on that… it takes the fun out of it for me.”

“Hey!” Tobias protested. “Fear? Is that what you’re looking for. Listen, gorgeous, I had four years in drama club in college, and I can feign fear like the best of them. I think you should give me another shot.”

Olivia’s eyes raked over him, slowly taking him in from head to toe, a fiendish grin growing.

“You’re willing to wear a harness?”

Tobias scoffed. “When have I ever said no to that?”

“OK,” she smiled, rising to her feet. “The Beumont’s armory is in the basement. Go down the staircase, make a left, and it’s the last door at the end of the hallway. Meet me there in fifteen minutes. Oh, and get your lab coat back from Maxwell. Make sure you’re wearing that… and nothing else… when I enter,” she winked. “That’s the main course. The harness will be dessert.”

Tobias looked at her with darkened eyes. “At your command, my Duchess.”

Anxioulsy hopping to his, Tobias yelled to Ethan as he made his way to the door.

“Hey, buddy! I’ve got .. uh.. some things to do. Keep yourself occupied… look around for Bertrand… you both love boring things. He’ll know what to do.”

Liam and Leo leaned against the wall, shaking their heads at what they had just witnessed. 

“And that’s without the shag pollen,” Leo sighed. “Could you imagine them under the influence?”

Liam shook his head vigorously. “It would be the demise of Cordonia.  Perhaps the demise of civilization.”

@choicesficwriterscreations Tagging others in RB.

[ao719]

Best Kept Secrets

Best Kept Secrets - Maybe We’ll Get It Right (Chapter 18)

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: Hold On Tight - Forest Blakk

Book/Pairing: TRR; Liam x F!OC

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

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

Catch up here

Standing in her bedroom inside the north wing, Amara stared at her reflection in the floor-length mirror. She scanned over her outfit before meeting her own anxious gaze; she took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to settle her nerves. 

Today would be Amara’s and Liam’s first public outing with Sophia since the statement had been given. It would be the first time the press would not only catch a glimpse of the heir but see the three of them together … as a family. She knew that the purpose behind the outing was to show the public that their King had moved beyond her betrayal and that they were putting the past behind them for the sake of their child. It was all in hopes of shifting the negative attention she was receiving and showing her in a more favorable light. 

Amara was nervous, however. One would think she would find this to be fairly simple; working the press to change public perception was literally her job, but it was much different being the one whose image you’re trying to change their perception of. She wouldn’t be working her PR magic behind the scenes because she was the one under the microscope. She knew her every move was going to be picked apart, questioned, and, at times, manipulated to fit whatever narrative they were attempting to paint of her. Whatever they felt was going to sell a story was what they were going to try and sell, truth or not. 

Despite knowing this was something they needed to try, Amara had second-guessed the decision since Daniel suggested it; they’d given themselves an extra week behind the palace walls to prepare, but she felt anything but because she couldn’t get out of her own head. She didn’t want her presence during these planned outings to make things even more difficult for Liam than she’d already made them. 

However, when Amara subtly brought up the concern, Liam didn’t seem all too phased. They planned to spend the day on the private beach, and he reminded her that while, yes, the press was sure to be camped out nearby, they would still be far enough away so they’d be able to enjoy their day together with Sophia and that he was looking forward to spending the day out … with both of them. He seemed to be treating it as both a casual and normal outing and not one that was planned with a purpose.

Amara wasn’t reading too much into what he’d said, however, seeing his words for exactly what they were. She knew it was nothing more than his way of trying to make her feel more relaxed because he could sense that she was on edge about it. To think he meant anything beyond that was pointless. Despite her feelings for him, she’d forced herself to face reality over the last month and a half, a reality where she knew that any chance she might have had at continuing to rekindle things between them was long gone. After what she’d done, he’d never give her a second chance, and she didn’t deserve one. Her feelings for him didn’t matter and didn’t mean anything to anyone but her, so she shoved them into a box and pushed any notion of them being anything more than co-parents as far down as she could. It hurt, of course, but it was the consequences of her actions. And she’d suffer in silence because she wasn’t going to let those feelings get in the way of his and Sophia’s relationship. 

A knock on the door pulled Amara’s attention, and she gave herself one last glance in the mirror before turning and exiting her bedroom. When she opened the door, she smiled at Sophia, who was giving her signature toothy grin.

“Mama!”

“Hi, baby,” Amara chuckled as she took her from Liam’s arms when she leaned over to her. She kissed her cheek as she ran her hand over her head of blonde hair. 

“Morning,” Liam said. 

Amara offered him a tentative smile. “Morning.” She stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind her. “I have her stuff ready. I’ll just go get her changed real quick.” 

Liam nodded and watched the two of them disappear down the hall, listening to Sophia babble and Amara laugh, smiling as he sat down in the living area to wait. He drummed his fingers against his thighs, wondering what the day was going to bring.

They would be spending the day at the private beach, and while he knew it would be accessible to the press, it would keep them far enough away so they wouldn’t be too overbearing. They couldn’t go out in public and make it obvious that they were putting on a show for the cameras. 

Truthfully … it wasn’t about the cameras for Liam nor was it a show. Yes, he was doing this as a way to hopefully shift the narrative surrounding Amara, and he was looking forward to finally taking Sophia beyond the palace walls, but it was more than that for him. He wanted to spend the day out with Amara, too. 

Over the last month and a half since everything had happened, one of the things he struggled with most was his feelings for Amara. At first, those feelings were suffocated by anger and resentment, but once he forced himself to let go of those emotions for the sake of moving forward, they came back tenfold. Now that he’d been spending every day with her the past two weeks, practically playing house inside the palace with her and Sophia … the three of them, together, as a family … everything he felt before seemed amplified. His feelings began to consume him, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to continue to shove them aside. And maybe he shouldn’t. He’d been trying to do what was best for Sophia, but perhaps what was best for her was the very thing he’d been trying to ignore. 

Liam had a couple of reservations, however, and they seemed to be the one thing holding him back. 

The first reservation was trust. No matter which way Liam looked at the situation, he’d been betrayed. Did he now understand the place in which Amara was coming from? A little. He’d allowed himself to see things from her perspective, and he understood her headspace at the time. It didn’t change the fact that he was still lied to and kept in the dark about something as important as the existence of his child. Were there other secrets she was keeping? He didn’t know. And he didn’t know if he could trust her to not keep more in the future. 

The second reservation was fear. Twice now Liam had tried to make things work between them, and he was left broken both times. They say the third time’s the charm, but this was something that now went beyond just him. If they tried again and they failed a third time, not only would it affect him but Sophia as well. He and Amara had a knack for being unable to get their stars to align. Could he really risk Sophia being collateral damage in a game he wasn’t sure he would ever win?

“Dada!” 

Sophia’s squeal pulled Liam from his thoughts. He glanced over and a laugh bubbled out of him at the sight of her toddling towards him in a white cover-up that concealed her bright pink bathing suit, tiny aviators, and a floppy white sun hat. “Look at you looking like a little beachy princess,” he chuckled as he scooped her into his arms. “Are you ready for our day at the beach?” Sophia nodded with a clap of her hands. “Is mommy ready?”

They both looked at Amara at the same time, and she forced a smile. “I’m ready.”

****

When Bastien pulled into the private parking lot of the beach, Amara turned her face away from the window, shielding her eyes from the flashes of the cameras. The press had been camped outside of the gate when they left the palace and had followed them. Having spent so much time tracking the royal family’s movements, it didn’t take them long to realize where they were headed; they raced ahead so they were there waiting when they arrived. 

When Liam exited the vehicle, the press, who were contained behind another gate where two more guards stood to ensure they didn’t cross, began shouting his name. He turned and tossed his hand up in a wave as they snapped photos before turning back toward the vehicle. 

Liam met Amara’s gaze as she finished unbuckling Sophia from her car seat. “Here we go …” 

Liam lifted Sophia from her seat and into the safety of his arms, and when he pulled her from the vehicle, the frenzy ensued. The press shouted louder as the shutters from their cameras went off. Sophia turned her head toward the clamor as her grip on his shirt tightened. “It’s ok, little love,” he whispered. 

Occupied by their first glimpses of the princess, the press almost missed the moment Amara came into view. Almost. The moment they noticed her, more shouts ensued as their cameras continued to snap photos. 

“Why is she with you, King Liam?”

“Anything to say about your betrayal to the King, Ms. Onasis?”

“Will she be leaving Cordonia soon?”

“Will the Princess be staying?”

Amara turned so her back was toward them and inhaled a deep breath. She felt Liam’s hand on her shoulder a moment later and looked up at him; he gestured toward the path that led to the beach and she nodded before starting toward it. 

Once down on the beach, Amara set the bag she’d packed beside one of the chairs that were set up beneath an umbrella. She glanced around, taking in the silence, feeling a little more at ease, but only for a moment before she saw the press hurrying toward the edge of the barrier. The guards were already in place, ensuring they stayed on the other side, and they were far enough away where they wouldn’t be a bother, but just knowing they were there at all had her right back on edge. 

“Did you hear me?”

Amara snapped her gaze to Liam. “No. I’m sorry … what did you say?”

“Sunscreen?” Liam pointed to Sophia.

“Yeah.” Amara shook her head and crouched down next to the bag, pulling out the sunscreen she’d packed for her.

Liam set Sophia down on the chair, and Amara removed her tiny cover-up before smothering her in sunscreen. Once she was finished, she stood and turned to see a now shirtless Liam setting up the toys he’d brought on the massive beach blanket that was laid out for them; he’d slipped inside the tent just behind their chairs to change. She turned away from him and closed her eyes; between the press and him, her mind was jumbled.

“Ready?” Liam’s voice sounded from behind her, and she turned, but he was speaking to Sophia. He scooped her up and set her on the edge of the blanket so she could reach the sand before laying on his side next to her. 

Amara stood and stared at the two of them as they played. Then her gaze flickered to the edge of the beach where the press remained, continuing to snap photos. She couldn’t help but wonder what story they were going to try and spin from this. 

“Are you going to join us?” Liam asked.

Amara looked back at him. “Uh … yeah.” She kicked off her flip-flops before reaching down and grabbing the hem of her cover-up to remove it but froze as her eyes lifted to the press again. She casually brushed her hand against the fabric of the cover-up as she moved toward the blanket and sat down on the other side of Sophia. 

Liam looked up at her, squinting against the bright sun. “Did you not bring a suit?” he asked, gesturing to her cover-up that was still on. 

“I’m … I’m fine right now,” Amara lied as she looked out at the water. She wasn’t fine. 

Under the heat of the Mediterranean sun and the watchful eyes of the press, Amara was hot and flustered … but she didn’t want to take off the cover-up, afraid of what story the press would spin from it. Would they say she was trying to seduce him into forgiveness by flouncing around in a bikini? Would they criticize her for said bikini because she was the mother of the heir and not setting the example they thought she should? Hell, she was afraid to even look at Liam for a second too long, knowing what type of story one photo of that could paint. 

Liam stared at Amara as she gazed out at the water. He knew something was bothering her and he didn’t have to ask what it was. She’d been on edge the past week since they planned this first outing, and when he saw her this morning, he knew she hadn’t eased up. It was easy for him to ignore the presence of the press because he’d grown up with it and learned to drown them out a long time ago. Amara, however, wasn’t used to being on this side of things. On top of that, she was consumed by how her presence would rub off on him and Sophia and worried what stories would be in the papers the next morning. Because of that, she was being careful. Too careful, considering she wouldn’t even remove her cover-up. 

“Amara,” Liam said, and she glanced at him. “Relax.”

“I am relaxed.”

Liam snorted. “No, you’re not.” She dropped his gaze and bit her lip self-consciously. “Hey, look at me,” he whispered, but she shook her head. “Look at me.” She hesitated another moment before glancing up. “Don’t pay them any mind. It’s just you and me here, ok? Just us.”

Amara held his gaze. He knew exactly what was running through her mind without her having to say a word. And she felt the sincerity behind his words from the way he looked at her. But she needed to defuse the situation before her stupid heart took any of it to mean something more than it really did. “And Soph,” she quipped. 

“Yes,” Liam shook his head with a small smile. “But you know what I meant.” With Sophia occupied with filling her bucket full of sand one small scoop at a time, he laid on his back, tucking his arms under his head as he closed his eyes. “Take off the damn cover-up and enjoy yourself.” 

Liam heard her let out a quiet chuckle, and after another beat of silence, he could hear the quiet shift of the fabric against her skin. He opened one eye and inconspicuously slid it in her direction; his chest tightened at the sight of her body in the navy blue bikini before he quickly snapped the eye shut. 

****

That night, Liam and Amara put Sophia to bed inside her room in the north wing. They’d spent the entire day at the beach, playing in the water and lounging on the shore. Once they returned to the palace, she’d taken a bath, and barely made it through dinner before she passed out in Liam’s arms. 

The press had watched them the entire day, but Amara took Liam’s advice and ignored them as best as she could. She knew she had to come to terms with the fact that they were going to write what they wanted and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it except suck it up and deal with it. 

They quietly shut Sophia’s door behind them before creeping down the hall, stopping in front of the living area. “She racked out,” Liam quietly chuckled. 

Amara smiled as she leaned against the entryway, crossing her arms and tucking her hands beneath them. “She had fun today.”

“Minus the evil wave,” Liam quietly laughed. 

Amara jutted her lip out in a pout before bowing her head and covering her mouth with her hand to contain her laugh at the memory of the wave that washed away the sandcastle they’d helped Sophia build. She was not happy, and her extreme meltdown over the loss was when they knew it was probably time to pack it up and leave. 

“I thought she was going to try and kick that wave’s ass,” Liam chuckled. 

Amara snorted against her palm before looking back up at him, and when she did, a strand of her hair caught on her eyelashes. Instinctively, Liam reached up to brush it away. 

The air suddenly felt very thick as they stared at each other and both their smiles slowly faded. 

Snapping from his momentary daze, Liam quickly dropped his hand. “Uh … sorry. You had — your hair, I mean … it was …” He trailed off and blew out a breath. 

Amara continued to stare at him, feeling a bit bemused as her heart and mind argued over what just happened and what it meant. Nothing, she told herself. It was nothing. “Yeah … uh, thanks.”

“Well … I should probably …” Liam gestured over his shoulder to the door. “I have sand in places where there shouldn’t be sand and need to shower,” he chuckled, earning a laugh from her. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’ll let you know when she’s up so we can meet for breakfast.” 

“Sounds good.” 

Liam leaned down and kissed her cheek, letting it linger a heartbeat longer than normal before he drew back; he met her gaze for a split second before he turned and opened the door, quickly disappearing into the hall.

*******

Sitting inside his study, Liam read over an article from Trend magazine, detailing his and Amara’s outing over the past weekend in Applewood; he was needed there to go over a proposal to expand the orchids and invited Amara to bring Sophia. The article had several photos printed beside it, each one from a distance; a few of him and Sophia as they walked through the orchids, some of just her, and a few of the three of them together.

It had been nearly a month since that first outing at the beach, and the many they had after seemed to be doing the job they were intended to do. Most of the press — Trend being one — had done exactly what Daniel had said and followed his lead, looking beyond the past and focusing on the here and now. A few remained skeptical, however, questioning Amara’s motives for remaining in Cordonia and her intentions going forward. They didn’t know that she’d already decided to stay because he had yet to make a public statement. He knew he would need to make one soon, though; he’d spoken to Daniel, who told him the next step would be for the people to hear directly from him since they hadn’t at all since Sophia’s existence had been made public nearly two months ago. 

Liam was happy to know that things with the press were starting to settle down. What wasn’t settling down were his feelings for Amara. Each night after they would put Sophia to bed, the length of time they lingered behind got longer. They went from a few moments of simple conversation to now talking over drinks or a late-night snack about their day and making plans for the next. They had gotten closer and had fallen back into a place where things didn’t feel so tense. 

It was comfortable. 

It was familiar. 

Every day they spent together chipped away at those reservations Liam had and drew out his feelings even more. And every day he came closer and closer to throwing caution to the wind and taking that leap. 

Hearing a knock on his study door, Liam called for them to enter; when it opened, he lifted his gaze from the magazine article just as Amara stepped inside with Sophia. 

“Dada!” 

“Hi, little love,” Liam grinned as he stood and walked around his desk; he crouched down as she toddled toward him and he scooped her into his arms, smothering a mix of playful kisses and raspberries against her cheeks as she giggled.

“Hope we’re not interrupting anything,” Amara said.

Liam situated Sophia on his hip. “Not at all,” he replied before leaning forward to kiss her cheek; his hand brushed down the length of her arm as he drew back. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I wanted to come talk to you.”

“About?”

“I’m going to have to make a trip to New York.” 

Liam looked at her. “Oh?”

“My lease is up at the end of the month,” Amara explained. “I’ve been putting it off, hoping to have found a place beforehand, but that hasn’t happened yet.”

Despite the surprise her words gave him, Liam kept his expression impassive. “I hadn’t realized you’d been looking.” 

“Well, I haven’t … not really, I mean. I’ve perused some listings, but I’m still weighing my options between renting or buying and haven’t made a decision yet. But I can’t put off packing up my apartment any longer since I only have a couple of weeks. And I’ll have to clear out my office space as well.” 

Liam nodded. “Ok. Are you thinking this weekend, or …?”

“I wanted to check with you first,” Amara said. “I didn’t know if you had anything going on, and I figured you’d want Soph to stay here with you.” 

Liam thought for a moment as he glanced at Sophia; he scrunched his nose with a smile when she offered him one of her toothy grins. “How about we go together?” 

Amara’s brows rose in surprise. “You … you want to go?”

“Sure,” Liam shrugged as he looked back at her. “Let Imogen know, and we can leave Friday and take the weekend … get it all done in one shot so you don’t have to worry about going back for anything. There’s plenty of room on the jet to store whatever you need to bring back with you.”

Amara stared at him for a moment. “If you’re sure …” 

“I am,” Liam smiled. “I’ll have Bastien make arrangements.” 

*******

A few mornings later, the SUV pulled up on the tarmac, stopping alongside the waiting jet. Liam glanced out the window at the press that were huddled together on the other side of a barrier.

“How did they know we would be here?” Amara asked.

Liam sighed with a shrug. “They always manage to find things out one way or another.” He looked over to where she sat on the other side of Sophia’s car seat. “Get her on the jet. I’ll handle them.” 

Amara nodded and unbuckled Sophia’s straps before lifting her out of the seat. A guard opened the door and she and Imogen slid out; she ignored the volley of shouted questions from the press as she carried Sophia up the stairs and disappeared inside the jet. 

“Sir?” Bastien said from the driver’s seat.

Liam looked up, meeting his gaze in the rearview mirror as the other two guards took their luggage and Sophia’s car seat to the jet. “I’ll talk to them.” 

Bastien nodded before getting out and opening Liam’s door. When the King came into view, the press shouted at him; he was a picture of calm as he buttoned his suit jacket and made his way toward the crowd. 

“King Liam, where are you headed?” Donnie Brine from the CBC asked as Liam neared. 

“I’ll be in New York for a few days,” Liam answered.

Another slew of shouted questions ensued, and they were all asking the same thing in various ways: is Amara leaving with Sophia? Thinking back on his several conversations with Daniel over the past couple of weeks, and knowing he could use this as an opportunity to put any more doubts about her intentions to rest, he decided to be transparent. 

Liam held up his hand to quiet them, and once he had their attention, he cleared his throat. “We’re headed to New York for the weekend to pack up Ms. Onasis’ belongings as she will be staying in Cordonia permanently so that I may continue to maintain a relationship with our daughter.”

More questions were immediately volleyed, but one in particular had caught his attention.

“Are you concerned she’ll try to leave again with the princess?”

Liam sighed, knowing they were referring to what was mentioned in Daniel’s statement. “The circumstances surrounding Ms. Onasis trying to leave in the past were entirely different.”

“Can you elaborate?” a reporter asked, holding their recorder out in front of him.

Transparency, he reminded himself. “Ms. Onasis had been spooked by the betrothal aspect of the alliance that Auvernal had been pushing for. When she learned of the blackmail threat, she became frightened of what that meant for our daughter, and in a moment of panic, yes, she tried to leave. But as a mother, she was trying to protect her child … and that’s not something I can or will fault her for. As for the move … she’s uprooting her entire life to ensure that the princess and I stay together, and I’m extremely grateful that she’s so willing to do that.” 

The reporters stared at Liam in a bout of awed silence, and a heartbeat later, they were shouting more questions.

“Will they be staying with you at the palace?”

“What’s the status of your relationship with Ms. Onasis?” 

“Are you rekindling your romance?” 

They’d changed their tune so fast, it gave Liam whiplash. He let out a breath, feeling a bit lighter, but decided he wasn’t answering any more questions. He didn’t really have the answers at the moment anyway. He threw his hand up in a wave before turning and heading towards the jet. 

****

After the long flight and traffic-jammed ride from the airport, Liam and Amara arrived at their hotel in New York that afternoon; they’d planned to arrive early enough to leave them time for Sophia to hopefully nap off the jet lag. 

Once Sophia was asleep in the guest room of the suite, Liam sent Imogen to her own room that was situated across the hall to rest. He plopped onto the sofa in the living area while Amara stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, taking in the view. 

“Have you missed it?” Liam asked. 

Amara shrugged. “Certain things, like pizza and breakfast bagels, yes,” she chuckled. “But other than that … not particularly, no.” 

Liam stood and came next to her. “Where’s your apartment from here?”

“About 15 minutes that way,” Amara pointed. “It’s in Tribeca.” They were at the Millennium in lower Manhattan. “And my office is only a block from there.” 

“Have you made any decisions regarding your company and what you plan to do?”

“Not yet,” Amara shook her head. “We’re on a bit of a pause at the moment until I figure things out. Daniel hasn’t decided whether he’s staying yet, but with both Riley and I now there and him not having anything tying him down here …” She shrugged. “But I could still run the company from there and set up an office … or I could sell it …”

“You’d really consider selling it?” 

“If that’s what needs to be done … yes,” Amara answered. And I know a couple of competitors that would probably be more than willing to take it off my hands.”

Liam leaned against the window frame as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “You seem pretty content for someone giving up so much of themself on a whim.” 

Amara looked back out the window. “I wouldn’t say it’s on a whim.” 

Liam’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean …” Amara paused, taking in a breath and slowly letting it out. “I mean that all of this was stuff I’ve thought about from the moment I found out I was pregnant.” She tucked her hands beneath her arms as she fought against the urge to look at him. “I always thought about the what-ifs … and I planned out all these different scenarios in my head for the day I finally drummed up enough courage to … to tell you. And in all of those scenarios, the outcome was the same … I was leaving New York, and either running the company from where I was or selling it. Now that I think about it … it was never really a what-if, but more of a when.” 

Liam remained silent for a moment before speaking. “I just … I don’t want this move to be something you come to regret later on.” 

“It’s for you and Sophia.” Amara looked up at him again. “I would never regret it.” 

Liam stared at her, not having realized until that moment how close they’d shifted to one another, and he saw the moment she realized it, too. Her gaze was both hesitant and questioning, but then she looked away from him and took a step back. 

“Um … I think I’m going to nap while Sophia is.” 

“Yeah.” Liam cleared his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh … I’m actually not that tired, so I can listen for her if you want to go lay down in the master.” He’d already offered for her to take the bigger of the two rooms. 

“Ok,” Amara nodded.

Liam watched Amara turn and heard her let out a breath as she disappeared inside the room. 

*******

The following morning, Liam and Amara headed over to her apartment while Imogen stayed with Sophia at the hotel. Liam had arranged for a moving company to meet them there to take the boxes she would be bringing back and load them on the jet. From what she’d told him, most of it would consist of her and Sophia’s clothes. Anything she didn’t need, she planned to throw out or donate. 

When they pulled up outside of the tall brick building, Liam slid out before turning to help Amara out. They greeted the staff of the moving company that was already there waiting before heading inside. 

After riding the elevator up to the seventh floor, they stepped out, and Liam followed Amara down the hall. She paused in front of a door and unlocked it, and when she pushed it open and stepped inside, he followed. 

Liam glanced around as he moved further inside. He’d never seen her apartment, but it was exactly what he pictured her having. Casual with a touch of modern sophistication. “This is nice.”

Amara looked around fondly; she’d always loved her apartment. “Thanks.” 

“Where should we start, Miss?” a voice spoke from the doorway. 

Amara turned to the movers lingering in the hall. “Uh …” She glanced around. “Living room and kitchen.” She then looked at Liam. “We can get started on Sophia’s room and then mine.”

“Lead the way,” Liam gestured. 

****

Within a couple of hours, most of the apartment had been boxed up. While the movers carried boxes from the kitchen, living room, and Sophia’s room down to the truck, Liam and Amara finished up in her room. 

“I’m going to take this out,” Amara said when she finished taping the last box of her shoes shut. 

Liam nodded. “I’ll bring the nightstand out for you.”

“Thank you,” Amara replied before pushing the box out the door and down the hall.

Turning to the nightstand next to the bed, Liam reached down and hooked his fingers under the lip of the top. He lifted it, and when he realized it was heavier than he anticipated, he tilted it to adjust his hold; the movement caused the drawer to slide out of it and crash to the floor. 

“Shit.” 

Liam set the nightstand back down before kneeling to pick up the contents from the drawer now scattered on the floor. As he scooped up the items, something caught his eye, and he froze as he stared at it. A photo. He reached down and grabbed it, bringing it closer, only to notice another beneath it. And they weren’t just any photos, but ones of him and Amara. He remembered the night the one he held in his hand was taken. They were watching a movie in his quarters and were on the sofa; she was resting back against his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around her and his face was playfully nuzzling her neck with a grin as she smiled. He picked up the other from the floor. It was of them in the maze; she was on his back with her arms looped around his neck, both of them laughing. 

At that moment, at the sight of those photos, at the realization that she’d kept them all this time, Liam felt the last of the reservations he’d been holding onto crumble. He wanted to be the two people in those photos again. 

Two people who could make each other laugh and smile.

Two people who were better when they were together. 

Two people who were happy and in love.

“Liam?” Amara’s voice carried down the hall. 

Liam snapped from his daze and cleared his throat. “Coming.” He placed the rest of the items back in the drawer but slipped the photos into his back pocket before standing and carrying the nightstand out. 

****

That night, Amara stood out on the balcony of the hotel suite while Liam put Sophia into bed. She stared out at the view of the city she’d called home all her life, but she couldn’t say she’d miss it all that much. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Liam said behind her.

Amara glanced over her shoulder, and her eyes followed him as he came to stand beside her. “Nothing,” she said, “just … taking in the view. Did she go down ok?”

“Yeah,” Liam nodded as he leaned against the railing. “Out like a light.” He glanced out at the view, staying quiet for a moment before looking over at her. “Are you going to miss it?”

“No … not really,” Amara answered. “I think … I think I’m ready to start over somewhere else.” 

Liam stared at her for a moment before taking her answer for the opening it was. “Speaking of starting over …” He stood upright and reached back, pulling the two photos from his back pocket. “When we were packing … these fell out of your nightstand drawer.” 

Amara focused on the photos in his hand, fighting against looking at him as she blinked away the sting in her eyes. “Yeah …” 

“I didn’t realize you had them.” 

“I …” Amara let out a soft breath and cast her gaze to the ground.

Liam’s thumb slid under her chin and he lifted her eyes to his. “No more secrets.” 

Amara swallowed. “I would look at them … in hopes I could convince myself to reach out to you … to tell you about Sophia.” She fell quiet for a moment before speaking again, her next words coming out just above a whisper. “And on days when I missed you … which was all the time … I’d look at them to remind myself of what it felt like to be whole … because that’s what being with you made me feel. Whole and complete … and happy.”

Liam searched her eyes for a moment, and in the next, he leaned down, capturing her lips in his. Amara stiffened in surprise, needing to rest her hands against his chest to keep herself upright, but when his arm curled around her waist and pulled her closer, she went more than willingly. When her lips parted against his, she felt his tongue softly curl against hers, so slowly at first it was as if he were trying to savor the moment, but then he deepened the kiss, and she gripped his shirt to steady herself.

Forcing himself not to get too caught up, Liam drew back. It took her a moment to open her eyes, and they stared at each other in silence for a few heartbeats before she looked away from him. He could see the self-consciousness fill her expression and realized it was because she determined that he must have thought what just happened was a mistake … but she was wrong. 

“I want to go back to being the two people in these photos. I want this again.” Liam held up the pictures. When she looked at him again, he saw the surprise in her eyes, like she couldn’t believe what he was saying. “I want this … I want us. But I want to slow down because I want us to be sure when we go in, if not for our sakes, then for Sophia’s.” 

At his words, a tear trickled down Amara’s cheek, and he reached up, brushing it away with his thumb. “I didn’t think … after what I’d done—”

“When I told you I was leaving the past in the past, I meant it, Amara,” Liam interrupted. “I just need to know if you want the same … that you’re willing to try.”

Amara took in a shuddered breath as her tear-filled eyes searched his. And then she nodded. “I want the same,” she whispered. 

Liam dropped his hand from her face and curled his fingers around hers. “Then we take it day by day once we get back home … and we’ll see how things go.” 

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

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[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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Submissions:@choicesficwriterscreations

[angelasscribbles]

All That She Wants Chapter 3: Let's Talk

Series: All That She Wants

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for this chapter: Riley x Drake

Word Count: 1,264

Rating: M

Warnings for this chapter: tiny flakes of lemon

My other stuff: Master List.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, matting his hair and dripping onto the glistening skin of the woman writhing underneath him.

It had been a month since Drake had taken Riley back to his room and done all the things he’d fantasized about for so long. She’d come back the next day and the day after that.

And then she’d gone back to being friendly and polite, but nothing more.

Until tonight.

Though he had been determined to demand a conversation, all his resolve had crumbled the moment he’d opened his door to find her standing on the other side.

He had given in to her so easily, and now her legs were wrapped around his waist, her nails sunk into the tanned flesh of his shoulder blades, and his cock was buried deep inside her.

His name fell from her lips as she shuddered beneath him, and he slammed into her one last time, sending streams of milky hot liquid erupting into her.

He nuzzled into the side of her neck as he caught his breath, unwilling to move off her just yet.

He wasn’t ready for this to be over.

He breathed in the scent of lilac and lavender mingled with sweat and sex. His tongue and lips trailed down her supple skin, the taste salty and sweet.

She made approving noises at first, but then she pushed at him to get him to roll off her. “It’s hot and you’re sweaty.”

“So are you.” He countered, but he complied by dropping his body onto the mattress next to her.

“Yes, I know. I need to borrow your shower.”

The unspoken part hung in the air between them. She couldn’t go back to her husband reeking of sex.

They lay side by side for several long minutes; him searching her face for something he couldn’t quite find.

Part of him was afraid of scaring her away, but a bigger part needed to know what was going on. He couldn’t face the prospect of her leaving and him not knowing if or when he’d see her again. “Listen, Riley. We need to talk.”

“About?”

“What we’re doing here.”

“I thought that was obvious.”

“Haha. Seriously. Listen. I know I have a reputation, Riley, but—”

She cut him off with an incredulous laugh. “You say that like it’s not a well-deserved reputation. You’ve been with a lot of women!”

He blew out a breath of frustration. “I have been with a lot of women, but—”

“It’s okay, Drake. You’re safe.” She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “I know you don’t do relationships, and I’m not asking you for one. I get it.”

“No, you don’t!” He shot upright, grabbed her arm, and pulled her back. “I want a relationship, Riley!”

She gave him a puzzled look as she shifted her body into the same cross-legged sitting position he had settled into. “No, you don’t. In the entire time I’ve known you, you’ve never dated the same woman for more than a few weeks. And it’s not for lack of opportunity. They throw themselves at you. I’ve seen it.”

His eyes searched her face for any trace of jealousy. “Does that bother you?”

Her brows furrowed momentarily. “What?”

“The women, Riley!” He exploded. “Do you care, even a little, when you see me with someone else?”

He read nothing but confusion in her eyes as she shook her head, “Why would you think—”

“Because it fucking kills me every time I see you with Liam, that’s why! I thought it was just me, all one-sided, but then you… this happened…” he gestured between them.

“What are you saying, Drake?”

“I’m saying that I want a fucking relationship, Riley, but the woman I want it with married my best friend!”

“I…I didn’t know…” she looked stricken.

His voice went quiet as he asked, “Is that why you didn’t give me the courtesy of a heads-up before you got engaged?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh my god, Drake! I had no idea that you ever had feelings like that for anyone, much less for me!”

“Yeah, well, I am in ample possession of plenty of feelings… I just don’t see the point of sharing them with most people.”

“I don’t know what to say. I never knew you felt that way.”

“Why did you think that night happened?”

“Um…. Because you’re Drake Walker and you sleep with anyone and everyone?”

“I do not!”

She arched her eyebrows.

“Okay, I have been around the block a time or two, but do you really think I would have slept with someone Liam was interested in if I didn’t have genuine feelings for them?”

She twirled a loose strand of hair around a fingertip as she considered that. “I mean…we had been drinking, so I chalked it up to that.”

“Would it have made a difference if I’d told you how I felt?”

“Back then? No.” She had been too in love with Liam to give serious consideration to anyone else.

“And now?”

“Drake…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lead you on or anything. I assumed this was just fun and games for you. You know I love Liam. I married him!”

His eyes squeezed shut, pain swirling through him. His voice was clipped as he bit out, “Then why are you here?”

Her gaze drank him in as she considered whether or not to confide in him. One look into his misery-filled eyes convinced her that he was never going to use anything she told him against her.

She could trust him.

Her eyes were trained on her fingers as they twisted the edge of the sheet. Drawing a shaky breath, she admitted, “I can’t remember the last time Liam touched me.”

Drake went still as a soft, “Ah.” slipped from his lips.

She looked up, stunned at the tone she detected in his voice. “You’re not surprised.”

He sighed, unwilling to divulge Liam’s secrets no matter how in love he was with Riley. He hadn’t known they weren’t sleeping together, but in light of the information, he did know exactly why.

Seeing a possible way out without lying, he opted for a truth that wasn’t the whole truth. “I didn’t realize that you two weren’t…. I mean…” a crimson flush crawled up his neck and spread across his face as he stumbled over his words.

For the first time since they started this serious conversation, Riley laughed. It was a short, ironic laugh. She reached for his hand. “Geeze, Drake, after what we just did, are you really afraid to use words like sleeping together? Having sex?” She leaned closer with a hint of provocation lacing her voice. “Fucking?”

The flush went a shade deeper. “Riley!”

Her eyes traced across his face in pleased astonishment. Drake Walker, a known lothario, had somehow regressed into a skittish schoolboy because of her.

She couldn’t repress the smile or the soft laugh that burst out of her at the realization. Her fingers flew to her lips to try to cover it, but he noticed.

“Fuck!” He dropped his face into his hands to hide it from her. “I’m sorry for acting like an idiot.”

“No,” she reached out and gently pried his hands away from his face. “I like this new side of you.”

“Really?” He lifted his head and gazed at her with such tender hope and tortured longing that her heart stuttered in her chest, and butterflies exploded through her.

Well, shit.

That hadn’t been part of the plan.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

It's that time of year again! Thank you to the creators who have shared their Top 5 creations of 2023 according to Tumblr note count. The Creator's Pick Top 5 will be posted this weekend! Links to all fics can be found below the break.

@aallotarenunelma ✒️

So This is Love (BOLAS) - Aerin Valleros x M!elf!MC

Distant Light (BOLAS) - Tyril Starfury x F!elf!MC

Indigo Night (ID) - Cassius Harlow x NB!MC, NB!OC

Répondez, s'il vous plaît! 3 (ILS/ID) - Various Pairings

Sophomore Secret (ILITW) - Dan Pierce x F!MC, M!OC

@angelasscribbles ✒️

A Fervid Fixation (TRR) Ⓜ️ - Drake Walker x MC

In Your Room (TRR) Ⓜ️- Drake Walker x Leo Rys

The Dark Kingdom (TRR) Ⓜ️ - Various Pairings

Dark Elf (TRR) Ⓜ️- Various Pairings

Heir Apparent (TRR) Ⓜ️- Drake Walker x MC, Liam Rys

@baldwinboy5ive 🎨

Blades Coffee Shop AU (BOLAS) - Aerin Valleros x MC

I Will Drag Him Back (BOLAS) - Tyril Starfury & Aerin Valleros

The Spray Bottle (BOLAS) - Imtura, Mal, Aerin

Aerin Instagram (BOLAS) - Aerin Valleros

The Prison Visit (BOLAS) - Aerin Valleros x MC

@cariantha ✒️

Accidental Valentine (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

If Only I Could (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Code Yellow (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

A Kiss on the Hand (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Daddy Distress (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

@inlocusmads ✒️

Intro To Negotiation Science (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

A Strange & Sudden Companionship (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

Cross Your Hearts & Set it Ablaze (COP) - Trystan Thorn x F!MC

Partner (Disambiguation) (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

New York, June 2014 (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

@jerzwriter ✒️

A Different Fate, Part 1 (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

What Happened in Vegas, Part 4 (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Abundance (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

The Perfect Gift (OH) - Tobias Carrick x F!MC

Take Me Out (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

@ladylamrian ✒️

Welcome to the World of Night (NB) - Nightbound MC

Bound by Fate (NB) - Nik Ryder x F!MC

A Meeting in Wyoming (NB) - Nik Ryder x F!MC

Wedding Proposal (NB) - Nik Ryder x F!MC

OC Headcanons (NB)

@liaromancewriter ✒️

Every Day (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Summer Romance (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Beautiful Stranger (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Sleeping Beauty (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Something to Talk About (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

@noesapphic ✒️

The Other Woman (D&D) - Roselyn Sinclaire, Ernest Sinclaire, Duke Richards

A Glimpse of Us (TRR/TRM) - Liam Rys & MC, Fabian Rys & MC

Barcelona | Prince Hamid (D&D) - Prince Hamid x MC

Worthy (TRR) Hana Lee x MC

The Cursed Heiress, Ch. 17 (D&D) - Mr. Sinclaire x F!OC

@peonierose ✒️

Losing Game - Part 1 (OH) - Bryce Lahela x F!OC

Nightbound AU vs. Hänsel & Gretel, Part 3 (NB) - OCs

Nightbound AU vs. Hänsel & Gretel, Part 2 (NB) - Nik Rider, F!MC, OCs

Once, Part 2 (TNA/OH) - Sam Dalton x F!MC

Hau’oli la Heleui (OH) - Bryce Lahela, F!OC, Keiki Lahela

@storyofmychoices ✒️

Go On, Feel It! (BOLAS) - Mal Volari x F!MC

Our Future Doctor (OH) - Bryce Lahela x F!OC

No Kissing! (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

Dance With Me (OH) - Bryce Lahela x F!MC

A Theif in the Gardens (BOLAS) - Mal Volari x F!MC

@tessa-liam ✒️

Memories (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

The Sacrifice (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

Regrets (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

Old Habits Die Hard (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

Turning the Page, Prologue (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

@trappedinfanfiction ✒️

Brunette (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Crossroads (OH) Ⓜ️ - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

A New Neighbor (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

Midnight Talks (OH) - F!MC, Sienna Trinh

What's in a Name? (COP) - Trystan Thorne

@zealouscanonindeer ✒️

Together (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Company (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Locked In (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

20 Questions (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Long Overdue (OH) Ⓜ️- Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

[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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Ghosted

Ghosted - Altering Visions (Chapter Eleven)

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 f!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.

A/N 2 - It's been a while 🥲. Here's hoping it doesn't take me another six months to post the next chapter 😬🫡.

PSA it's a long one. Whoops, lol.

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

Liam fluttered his eyes open a short time later and squinted them against the harsh, blinding light blocking his view. When he took a deep breath, a distinct, stale aroma invaded his senses; it sparked some kind of recognition even before he could fully view his surroundings. He slowly sat up with a groan and blinked until his vision centered. He glanced around and noticed the outdated wood panels, along with the oval shape of the sconces. There was only one estate in all of Cordonia with those outdated features, and he noted that fact immediately. 

Panic flourished through his body as Liam realized he awoke in Applewood. 

He frantically stood with labored breaths and patted his abdomen, almost to ensure he was real. He pinched his thigh and winced, afterward placing a trembling hand on the wall to steady himself. His mind raced as he tried to comprehend what transpired and how he’d gotten there to begin with.

The events of the night suddenly invaded his thoughts. The image of a lifeless Penelope in Landon’s arms engraved and forever etched itself into his memory; he felt guilty, enraged, defeated, and a slew of other emotions.

Penelope was the big break they’d hunted high and low for. She held vital information Liam desperately needed, but seemingly would take her secrets to the grave with her. He couldn’t understand any of it — nothing made sense. The list of unanswered questions swirling around was enough to make him nauseous. A carousel of sorrow and confusion he couldn’t seem to slow down — no matter how hard he tried. 

Amid his tilt-a-whirl moment, an angelic voice rang out not far away, drawing him back to the present. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” 

Liam’s thundering heart suddenly stopped as recognition swept over him. He’d been so entrapped in his thoughts, he hadn't even noticed what portion of the estate he was in. 

Only a few inches away was a door he remembered all too well — Riley’s. His eyes welled with tears as his vision centered on the structure, but as much as Liam wanted to rush to her, he physically couldn’t. The receptors in his brain went crazy — a jolt of electricity shot to his legs, demanding he move, but his feet weighed hundreds of pounds. Dazed and confused, he could only gawk at the blockade separating them. 

“Lady Riley, we have much to discuss — have a seat,” another individual answered. Liam knew it was a male but couldn’t place his identity; although it sounded familiar, as if he could remember it from a vague, distant memory. 

“Tell me who you are and what the hell you’re doing here!” Liam’s blood ran cold at Riley’s tone; the fear and adrenaline were prominent in her shaky voice. His breaths quickened and his instincts screamed to rush to her, but again, his feet refused to cooperate. 

“That wasn’t a request — I told you to have a seat.” Again, Liam swore he could recall that voice, but couldn’t fully register it. He thought about it for a split second until the sounds of a loud screech and a shatter echoed behind the door. 

“Don’t touch me!” Riley hollered, instantly breaking Liam’s trance. He lunged for the doorknob, but when he twisted his wrist, it snapped and turned to dust in his palm. The disintegrated fragments floated to the floor in slow motion, his heart following suit. 

“You’re so beautiful when you squirm.” Liam gasped as he fully recognized that person — it was Tariq. “But if you don’t fucking stand still–”

“Riley! RILEY!” Liam forcefully pounded on the structure. “Open this door! Open it, goddamnit!” He bellowed, but the commotion inside continued, escalating by the second. The next instant, he sprinted down the hall, frantically hunting for somebody — anybody — to get him inside that room. “I need some help!” He hauled over to the other side and yelled once more, but faced only cold, deserted silence. 

His vision darted all around the area before he spotted a window at the end of the seemingly never-ending hallway. Liam sprinted to it and gazed at the scene below. Outside, he could see the country jamboree still in full swing. He scoured the crowd and spotted everyone except Riley; Drake, Hana, Madeleine, and upon further inspection, he saw himself at the head table beside his father. He stumbled backward with a strangled breath, truly dumbfounded by what was going on. 

As Liam recovered, he re-approached the window and banged on it. “Hey! Hey!” He wailed, but nobody below batted an eye. His hits came harder and harder, but the glass never even cracked; his hand took the damage, although he felt no pain. 

The only thing he heard was Riley’s pleas for help, the sounds making his desperation grow by the second. He rushed back to the door and ran full force at it, using his shoulder as a battering ram; it wouldn’t budge. He repeated the process — again and again — but never even split the wood. Liam let out a primal wail and fisted his hair, taking deep breaths to preserve any semblance of sanity. His pulse thundered in his ears and tears stung the corners of his eyes, while he frantically determined what to do.   

He took a step back and realized there was a shadow cast over the doorway. It appeared to be a man, standing with his arms crossed. He wasn’t sure if it was there before, but Liam waved his hand and nothing changed the stony silhouette. The fixture remained cemented in place, not flinching or moving a muscle, regardless of the commotion developing beyond.

“LIAM!” Riley suddenly screamed, ripping him from his trance. He was up against the structure in an instant, using every ounce of strength he had to force his way through, but his attempts were futile. Riley repeatedly called for him and every time, a dagger went straight through Liam’s already hollowed-out chest.

He couldn’t control his overflowing tears at hearing her cry out for him. No matter what he did, he couldn’t get inside; they wouldn’t acknowledge him, nobody came to help, and there was nothing he could do except sit and listen. With a loud sob, he slid down the door and sat in front of it, hoping at some point it would open and he could get to her. 

Riley’s whimpers continued throughout the vicinity, but Liam’s skin turned ice cold as he heard laughter inside; not Riley’s, and certainly not cheerful. The vile sound caused all the color to drain from his face. He leaned his head against the door and completely broke down, letting the devastation and defeat wash over him. 

“I — I’m sorry Riley…” He swallowed thickly, but soon let out an anguished cry. “I’m so sorry…”

The room went eerily quiet for a long while; Liam couldn’t hear much except the sound of his heart shattering, but eventually, the voices began once more. With a shuddered breath, he held his ear up to listen. 

“When will I receive payment?” Tariq questioned. 

“You don’t need to worry about that. Where you’re going, you won’t need it.” 

“W–what do you mean?! I did what I was called to do!” Tariq’s panic was clear to Liam, even without seeing his face. His pulse somehow thundered faster, carefully processing every word.

“There is too much at stake — more than your simple mind could ever understand. For this to work, you need to disappear. You’re a weak, pathetic excuse of a man — we can not risk this entire operation being ousted because of a lousy nuisance.” 

“I swear to it — you have my allegiance and my silence.” Tariq pleaded. “I will disappear, and—” 

“You’re going to, alright — the both of you.” 

What little color remaining in Liam’s complexion drained, and the shakiness in his hands amplified. After a split-second of complete and utter stillness, the phrase resonated and ignited a deadly determination within.

Liam sprung up and kicked the door with all his might. “LET ME IN!” He repeated the process, but again, the barrier showed no signs of weakening. He threw his fists at the structure in a mad frenzy — anything to get inside and get to Riley, then deal with this — man. 

“Liam! Liam! LIAM!” Leo yelled. He repetitively jabbed the button next to Liam's head to summon the nurse, as his brother flailed in his hospital bed. 

Liam was being monitored for dehydration, severe exhaustion, and a touch of malnutrition. Doctors said he had a panic attack, which combined with everything else, made him lose consciousness. All his labs came back normal, thankfully; Leo was worried someone could have slipped Liam something, but the hospital was quick to put that suspicion to rest. 

Since Liam arrived, he had been resting comfortably, but that changed about twenty minutes ago; it started with small groans and subtle movements, but soon turned into blood-curdling cries and forceful thrashes. Leo hoped he would wake himself, but Liam was getting drastically worse with every passing second. 

Liam suddenly flew forward with a loud gasp. His tearful eyes darted all around the room while he grabbed at his gown-covered body. As the world centered, a tidal wave of frustration and confusion washed over him. 

When Liam stopped and stared down at his clasped hands, Leo cautiously re-approached the bed. “Liam?” When he didn’t answer, Leo spoke a little louder. “... Li?”

“I was there.” Liam weakly croaked, his vision locked on his lap.

Leo’s brows furrowed. “Where?” 

“I heard it.”

“Heard what?”

“Riley…” Liam whispered, followed by a shuddered breath.  

“What about her?” 

“I was there… th–that night… just n–now—” Liam stammered, struggling to make sense of the situation. “I couldn’t get in…”

Leo’s heart instantly shattered at seeing the devastation in Liam’s features. “They gave you some medication, Li.” He reasoned. “It’s possible that—”

“I KNOW WHAT I HEARD!” Liam bellowed. The nurse appeared next to him and attempted to speak, but he shouted, “GET OUT!” 

Leo lifted his hands in surrender. “I believe you, Liam… Tell me what happened.” 

“She yelled for me…” Liam faintly answered, refusing to make eye contact. “She yelled and screamed and — I couldn’t get inside, Leo... I tried, but — I — I… I couldn’t save her…” 

Leo took a deep breath to gather his thoughts and responded in a calm, reassuring voice. “Liam, it’s been a long couple of days and I know this has been incredibly rough on you–” 

“STOP PATRONIZING ME! I KNOW WHAT I HEARD!” 

Leo remained reluctant to entertain this idea. He knew Liam was dreaming, but at that moment, he was completely irrational. Leo had never seen him in such a way, even when his mother died. Given the past couple of weeks, the events of that night, and the medication, there was no rationalizing with him — Liam was spiraling, and bad. But perhaps if he entertained the notion — for now — Liam would eventually calm down.  

Leo carefully spoke. “What did you hear?” 

Liam stayed silent for a long moment before he turned his head to meet eyes with Leo. The look on Liam’s face slightly took him aback; the determination in his features was deadly — his sunken, puffy eyes were nearly black. 

Liam let out a long, sharp huff of air and sternly explained, “There were two male voices. I can say with confidence one was Tariq, but as far as the other, I — I don’t know…” He shook his head with furrowed brows as he racked every recollection in his brain. He could almost visualize the man in question, but his face appeared blurred and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t clear the fog. 

“Alright, well, let’s just take a minute to—”

“They were fucking laughing, Leo. They assaulted her and laughed about it.” Liam growled, his chest rising and falling with every sullen breath. “I want Tariq found, now. He’s going to pay for ever laying a fucking finger on her. I swear to God, Leo — I will put an end to his sorry existence with my bare hands.” He clenched his palms, squeezing hard enough to turn his knuckles white. 

Leo once again held his hands up in surrender and replied in a soft voice. “I believe you. Just — take a couple of deep breaths and try to relax—” 

“What if she didn’t leave Cordonia?” Liam suddenly blurted out. “What if she’s…” He trailed off, swallowing thickly. No part of him wanted to finish that statement in any fashion; the unending possibilities gave him instant nausea. “That man… he said, ‘where you’re going you won’t need it’, and then h–he said both of you... BOTH OF YOU, Leo!” He ran his palms over his head from front to back, repeating the process with a crazed look in his eye. 

Leo opened his mouth to speak, but Liam swiftly continued. “It would make sense… Tariq has been untraceable… But–but Riley…. She — Bastien told me she went back to New York. But that person… I know I heard him say it… Where you’re going you won’t need it, where you’re going you won’t need it—” He repeated to himself, his voice diminishing with every anguished syllable. He clutched his hands into fists and forcefully yanked at his hair, rocking himself back and forth. 

“Li,” Leo cautiously started. When Liam whipped his head to look at him, Leo was once more temporarily shocked by the fury and turmoil staring back at him; he realized Liam was hastily elevating himself to a dangerous level. “We can’t jump to conclusions… Okay? Let’s just take a deep breath and try to calm down—” 

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Leo! I KNOW WHAT I HEARD!” Liam shouted as he ripped the IV from his arm, the pain not even phasing him. He ditched the rest of his connections shortly after and dashed out of bed. “Where are my CLOTHES?”

“I’m not saying you didn’t,” Leo reasoned as he followed his brother’s movements. “All I’m suggesting is that we take a step back and really think about this—” 

“I’m tired of taking a step back! Look where that’s gotten us!” Liam seethed. “There is so much goddamn blood on my hands! I let her get hurt! I am responsible for all of this madness—” 

“Stop that — right now,” Leo sternly returned. “You know that is not true even in the slightest.” 

“Say it to MY FACE then, Leo!” Liam barked as he invaded his brother’s personal space. “LIE to my fucking face!” 

“It’s not a lie, Liam,” Leo stood a little taller. “You are not responsible–” He stopped as Liam rolled his eyes and looked away. This time, it was Leo who stepped up to Liam. “No — look at me,” He bore his eyes into his brother, forcing him to see the truth in his gaze. “You are not responsible for any of this, Liam. We’re going to figure this out, I promise.” 

Liam studied the conviction staring back at him and his frustration soared. He spun away and grabbed the bedside table, sending it flying with a primal roar. 

Leo flinched as the wood shattered against the wall, but knew he had to calm Liam down. However, the person he was trying to reason with was not the version of Liam he was used to; this was a side Leo didn’t know lay dormant in his normally calm and stoic baby brother.

“Liam,” Leo softly started. “This is an incredibly shitty situation, and I’m so sorry that you’re being put through this. I love you, and I’m always here for you no matter what.” He confidently stated, but after a moment of silence, hesitantly added, “But I just don’t think a dream is—” 

“I don’t give a damn what you say, Leo! Someone is going to pay for this!” Liam growled, his face reddening with every deep, labored breath. He directed his attention back to his earlier quest for his clothes; he didn’t know where he was going or who he was looking for, but someone was going to feel the wrath of the King of Cordonia — tonight.  

Olivia didn’t even bother to knock before she and Ray joined the room. The pair opted to stay behind and investigate in Portavira a little further — that is until a random guard threw them out. Without Liam or Leo there to ensure their access, they were told to vacate the premises shortly after Liam left for the hospital. Regardless, they had enough time to prove at least one pivotal thing about that ordeal, and possibly solve quite a few others — if Liam believed them. 

They walked in and stopped short at Liam’s crazed expression. “What’s going on?” Olivia sought. 

“I’m leaving,” Liam bit out through clenched teeth. 

“Hold on, we need to talk about something—” 

“Move out of my way!” 

Olivia arched her brow. “We need transparency, Liam. Tell me what is going on — calmly.” 

“I was there, Olivia! I heard it! They fucking attacked her!” Liam bellowed as he found his garments and rifled through the bag. 

Olivia placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to stop his mad dash. “Liam, please — I need a full explanation. I’m not stopping you or downplaying anything, but we need to know what the hell you’re talking about.” 

Liam met her eyesight and saw the genuine interest in her gaze. He could tell Leo thought he was baffling, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t fathom the experience, but knew that was no dream; with every fiber of his being, Liam believed what he heard was reality. The universe mercilessly gifted him a blocked front-row seat — it was a curse, yet oddly a blessing. They spent all this time wondering what happened that night, but now he had a soundtrack to re-play. He wasn’t willing to rest until he deciphered this code, to ensure justice would be swift to all who deserved it. 

He explained in great detail his occurrence and exactly what happened. When he finished, he stared blankly at the floor, cradling his head in his trembling hands; he knew how wild it sounded but didn’t particularly care. It felt so real — so raw. Just thinking about the vile chortles raised goosebumps on his arms, and Riley’s screams now played on an insistent loop in his mind — torment that would never stop. Even if good trumped evil and Riley was located safely in the end, those sounds would be a continuous source of torture until he took his final breath. 

Olivia listened intently to everything he recalled. At the surface, she knew how preposterous it sounded — it was a dream, regardless of how strongly Liam felt otherwise. Her heart ached for her friend at that moment; clearly, everything that happened was taking a major toll on her childhood friend. 

But — given the bombshell she and Ray sat upon, Olivia couldn’t help but wonder if there could be some truth to Liam’s encounter. 

Olivia sat forward and patted Liam’s leg with the gentlest of touches. When she spoke, it was calm and reassuring. “I’m not sure what to say, Liam. I realize you want to believe it to be true, but you and I both know it’s nothing concrete…” Liam opened his mouth to respond, but Olivia held her hand up to stop him, as she saw the fire burning behind his narrowed eyes. “Let me finish… I know tonight has been hard on you for a lot of reasons, but I believe Ray and I have found a very promising lead…”

Liam’s ears visibly rose as his interest grew. “What do you mean?” 

“Sir, I know it’s not what you initially hired me for, but there are a lot of things that do not add up in this current situation...” Ray started. “Between some of Lady Penelope’s behaviors, her father’s statements, and this—” He produced his phone from his pocket and handed it to Liam. “I find it very hard to believe she took her own life.” 

Liam glanced at the device in his hands and realized he was looking at a photo of Penelope’s last statements. He read through it and found nothing of relevance; no mention of Riley, her involvement in the scandal, the maid, nothing. It was incredibly vague, considering it was her concluding words to the world. 

“Why are you showing me this?” Liam demanded as confusion and annoyance rushed through him. 

Olivia produced a document from her pocket. After questioning the legitimacy of the note left in Riley’s room, she wanted to have it near in case the situation arose. “You remember my blackmail letter — the one I got the night of your coronation?” She handed him the paper.

Liam held both items and scanned back and forth; he gasped when he realized they were nearly identical. “But, this — this means—” 

“Someone took her out, Liam.” Olivia finished. 

“I’m not positive if someone would have done it for her, or if she felt pressured into doing it. Either way, since she was saying goodbyes to her family, that leads me to believe Penelope knew she was in danger and foresaw her demise.” Ray added. 

“This is impossible!” Liam shook his head, his rage returning full force. “How does this keep happening?!” 

Olivia and Ray shared a look; the two calculated a theory, and it seemed the more that unfolded, the greater that assumption solidified itself. There wasn’t a lot of evidence to point fingers, but Olivia realized they couldn’t wait any longer; if they were correct, this situation just escalated tenfold. Liam already teetered an incredibly dangerous ledge, but perhaps that’s what the circumstances called for. Plus, after his — experience, she knew he would believe them. 

Olivia softly started. “I need you to stay as calm as possible — at least until I’m finished and we know for certain who we’re directing this hostility at.” Liam nodded with furrowed brows, but Leo shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t know what to say about your — encounter, but — there is reason for us to believe Riley could be in Cordonia.” 

“WHAT?!” Liam practically choked as all the color drained from his face. Even though he was there and truly believed what he heard, someone else saying it out loud momentarily knocked the wind out of him. 

“I checked all outgoing flights from the night of the jamboree and she wasn’t on any of them,” Ray explained. “Every log received a thorough examination, even those with different destinations — she has yet to board a plane to exit the country, to this day. I’ve looked at other modes of transportation and she is the same as Tariq — there is nothing.” 

“But…” Leo hesitantly started after a moment of tense silence. “If that’s the case, then where is she?” 

Olivia sighed and her eyes softened. “We’re — not entirely sure at this point… Somewhere in Cordonia, but…”

“Believe me when I say I am checking everywhere.” Ray confidently inserted. “Every crack, every crevice — any place I can think of. If she truly is in the country, I will locate her.” 

“Okay, but — why haven’t we found her?” Leo returned. The uneasiness in his stomach suddenly bolted to the back of his throat, securing itself and taking root. As he took in Ray’s uncertainty, the lump multiplied in size. 

“I — I don’t have an answer for that right now,” Ray calmly returned. “But I’m working around the clock and using every resource I have to uncover her location. I know those sound like empty promises, but I assure you — I will not rest until Lady Riley is located safely.” He emphasized.

Liam’s heart pounded so fast, he was sure it would give out at any moment. “I — She — B–but —” He stammered, trying his hardest to comprehend the conversation. “Bastien told me—”

“I think Bastien is involved.” Olivia abruptly cut him off. “When we found Riley’s stuff, I swear to you, Liam, I saw the fucking guilt in his eyes. Plus, he’s got his hands in everything at court. I’m not saying he’s as powerful as you, but he can twist and manipulate things like no other because of his position.” 

Olivia continued. “To be honest with you, I don’t think any of us really believe Penelope killed that maid. During the social season, I saw her cry over a fucking crab bite — you can’t tell me she murdered someone in cold blood. Also, I’m thinking, based on his actions tonight, Bastien knew Penelope was already dead — I’m nearly certain of it.”

“Not to mention, he kept this information to himself until we were ready to question her,” Ray added. “I know for certain those reports take only a few days — most likely less if it’s a priority case. I haven’t seen the photos from your first crime scene, but I can tell it was a setup from Olivia’s descriptions. As the head guard, it would’ve been easy for him to manipulate the situation.” 

“Are you sure, though?” Leo interjected. “I mean, I’ve dealt with Bastien a lot over the years, and I can say he is not a genius. Maybe the opposite — butter knives are sharper than he is.”

“He’s capable, though — that’s what troubles me. I think most of the time he gives off the impression he’s useless, but he’s highly trained in a sum of areas.” Olivia explained. “I sincerely doubt he’s the mastermind behind everything, but I’m confident he’s the reason we keep being set back. Who’s always around? Who’s the one directing these ‘investigations’? It’s him.“

“I — damn…” Leo ran a hand through his hair with wide eyes. “You’re not wrong, and it does kind of make sense…” 

Everyone suddenly recognized Liam remained mute as they spoke. His face showed no emotions; he only stared at Olivia as if she wasn’t even there with an unreadable expression. Liam was a world away as various open ends snapped themselves into place. The murky waters of uncertainty clarified, and the bottom of the cesspool became sharper with every jumbled thought dashing through his mind.

All security decisions went through Bastien, including unauthorized entry into an estate. Bastien was the one investigating the maid’s death, and he was accountable for the search for Riley and Tariq — until Ray came along. Bastien didn’t want to let Ray into Penelope’s room because he knew what was in there, and realized Ray would see right through it; past the stuff even Olivia would have missed. He could outsmart her, but knew he couldn’t Ray, which ultimately meant Bastien knew of Ray’s true purpose. He continuously told Liam he was working to provide answers, but suddenly, he believed Bastien’s intentions to be the exact opposite. 

This whole time, a mole sat right under his nose, continuously feeding them the vaguest of answers. Every time they took a step forward, it was never because of Bastien, but someone always ensured they took two back. He didn’t understand how whoever held the cards seemed to be a move ahead, but now — it made sense. 

Liam thought back to all these instances and realized he didn’t remember seeing Bastien. The night of the country jamboree, a different person escorted him to his room at the end of the night. He never questioned it because it wasn’t unheard of for guards to switch out positions, but now he wondered where Bastien truly was. 

The night of the Apple Banquet, he recalled seeing him at the start of it, but not again until Bastien barged in to inform him of the discovery. Now, he couldn’t help but speculate Bastien took the maid’s life himself, or at least staged the scene to frame Penelope. 

Tonight, before Bastien came to Liam and gave him the news of their suspect, he was nowhere to be found; until Olivia, Ray, and Leo left to interrogate Penelope. 

When Bastien told Liam their person of interest was Penelope, he was in a state of disbelief. Liam questioned him, but Bastien stood his ground. However, now he believed with everything in him, Bastien knew she was already dead and intended to manipulate the circumstances further.

Since he opened his eyes to the truth, he often felt as if he mindlessly ran in a circle, desperately trying to piece small portions of a scattered puzzle together. Now he realized he was — and Bastien directed the never-ending laps, all while dangling tiny slivers of hope in front of Liam’s face — taunting him.

Ultimately, Liam concluded without a shadow of uncertainty — Bastien knew what happened to Riley, and likely held knowledge regarding her location.

Liam suddenly shot up from the edge of his hospital bed. “BASTIEN!” He bellowed at an ear-piercing volume, loud enough to rattle the windows. 

Leo winced. “H–he’s not here, Li.”

“What the fuck do you mean, he’s not here?!” 

“There’s some other guy outside!” 

“He was still lingering around Penelope’s room when Ray and I left.” Olivia chimed in. 

“That’s it — I’m going to find him,” Liam growled through clenched jaws. 

“Liam, wait—” 

“NO MORE WAITING, OLIVIA! Do you see what is happening?! All the blood that’s being shed?! This has to stop!”

“I know and I agree. But we need some kind of strategy–”

“No — this ends now.” Liam bit out. He hastily made his way to the bathroom with his bag of clothes, slamming the door shut behind him. 

Olivia had half a mind to stop Liam until they had some kind of plan, but also felt time was of the essence. If they couldn’t prove Riley left the country, their urgency had to intensify. Her location remained unknown, but they believed she was at least in New York. When Ray first mentioned the possibility that she never left the country, Olivia didn’t want to believe it; after Penelope’s untimely demise, she realized this was a vicious, bloody pattern, and the suspicion needed to be taken seriously.

As the body count rose, Olivia’s concerns steadily increased. If history repeated itself, everyone involved would meet a deadly fate, but they didn’t have a detailed log of all entangled in this web. They had no clue where Riley’s name lay on the list of potential victims, and now they held very little information regarding her whereabouts. An involuntary shudder traveled down Olivia’s spine as the air in the room shifted, filling with an amplified haze of grim uncertainty felt heavily by everyone.

Olivia wholeheartedly believed Riley was alive, but for how much longer she couldn’t determine. The lingering feelings of uneasiness in her gut told her they were correct — she never left Cordonia — and if that was the case, her safety was more in question now than ever before.  

Within the hour, Liam left the hospital and was on his way back to the main estate in Portavira. Although doctors wished to keep him longer, he left AMA — he didn’t need fluids; he didn’t need rest; he needed Riley. If Bastien knew something, he was going to tell them, even if he had to use brute force.

A part of him didn’t want to believe it, but the more he pondered, the more sense it made. A small portion of his heart wanted to give Bastien the benefit of the doubt, but that was no longer an option. The betrayal Liam felt was like no other and quickly created a raging storm inside of him, simply waiting to be unleashed.

Hearing Riley could still be in Cordonia, combined with his out-of-body experience, the need to locate her was higher than ever. Of course, he wondered where she ended up when he believed she went back to the States, but now even that was up in the air. The one thing holding Liam above water was knowing she was far away from the carnage, but that was no longer a valid crutch. The waves of despair rose dangerously high, threatening to overtake and drag him under in one fell swoop. 

Liam tried his hardest to push the instantaneous bad thoughts away, but could feel it in his bones — Riley was in danger. From the beginning, he’d always thought something felt off, but he let his pride stand in the way of seeing the truth. Now it was impossible to ignore, as it tore away at his conscience. Guilty wasn’t even a suitable word to describe how he felt, knowing his negligence let this monstrosity escalate as it had. He turned his back on Riley when she needed him most; she screamed for him, yet he tried his damnedest to leave her in the past for so long. 

However, he used all his willpower to remain in the moment and stay afloat; the only thing he cared about was Riley. Even if they found her and she wanted nothing to do with him, he simply needed to see with his own two eyes that she was safe. He didn’t want to think about why she could still be in Cordonia, but the growing ache in his chest told him it wasn’t a good reason. 

The SUV pulled up to the front entrance of the estate, and Liam didn’t even wait for it to come to a complete stop. He rushed out and barged in through the front doors with fire under his feet. The halls remained eerily quiet as the nobility slept, but he was sure word traveled about not only his hospital stay but Penelope’s tragic passing. Leo, Olivia, and Ray all trailed behind as he ran at top speed. 

Liam dashed up the stairs and rounded the corner, but abruptly stopped once Penelope’s room came into view. The door had yellow caution tape covering the opening, and Liam heard Bastien’s voice inside; the sound reigniting the rage burning deep within. He went to make a bee-line for the door, but a timid hand on his forearm ceased his movements. 

“Y–Your Majesty,” Emmaline got out through hiccups. She retracted her hand with wide eyes and shakily bowed as he faced her. Liam’s features momentarily softened as he took in her running mascara and puffy eyes. “P–Please, Sir… I beg you to reconsider… Please — s–she wouldn’t d–do this…” 

Liam’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“We were told they’ve ruled Penelope’s d–death… They w–were picking everything up but n–nobody would listen to us! That wasn’t her handwriting. She–she wouldn’t do this… None of it… She was happy — she wouldn’t—” Emmaline shook her head as more tears fell. 

Liam placed a gentle hand on Emmaline’s shoulder and firmly responded, “I apologize for what you were told, but that is not the case — it will become a homicide investigation as soon as I can get someone else assigned. I promise you — I am going to figure out what happened and ensure she receives the justice she deserves.” 

Emmaline swallowed a sob. “W–where did they take her body? They wouldn’t tell us. T–they came in and ripped my baby out of my arms and I don’t know where she is and—”

“Wait, who took her?” 

“Your head guard said h–he had the authority to — remove her.” Emmaline squeezed her eyes closed as her tears fell harder, trying her hardest to wake herself from this nightmare.

Liam used every ounce of resolve he had not to march straight up to Bastien and securely wrap a hand around his throat. “Emmaline, I assure you — I will find her and bring her home. You have my word — I am going to figure this out.” He reiterated, but the fury coursing through his veins was at an all-time high. The amount Bastien thought he could get away with made Liam sick to his stomach, but he was determined to put a stop to it. 

His answers were suffusive for Emmaline, so she bowed and made her leave. After taking a microscopic moment to gain some clarity, Liam addressed Ray. “Since I am removing Bastien, I need you to take over. And I want you to backtrack and look into Rhonda’s homicide as well. I’m not sure if you’ll be able to find anything, but I want you to double-check. I’ll ensure you have access to everything you need, and I’ll inform everyone you are now in charge here. The crown will compensate you generously for your additional time and effort.” 

“Yes, sir,” Ray returned with a confident smile.

“Leo, I need you to figure out where he’s sending Penelope. I’m going to ask him, but in case he won’t tell me, I need her found before anyone messes with or blatantly destroys her body — there is no doubt in my mind that’s where she’s headed. Grab Maxwell and have him help you — I want her returned at once.” 

“You got it.” Leo nodded before he swiftly vacated the area. 

“I’m going to need some guards with me to do this,” Liam spoke, more so to himself than anyone else. 

“Guards?” Olivia repeated. 

“Yes. I won’t risk something happening to him — we will immediately detain Bastien. If he did nothing wrong, I’ll release and reinstate him, but until then, I am officially removing him from his position as head guard.” Liam answered, but regardless of what he said out loud, both of them knew Bastien was guilty; they just weren’t sure of the extent. 

Olivia smirked. “Welcome to the game, King Liam. Would you like for me to assist with questioning?” 

“I have a different job for you first. I need you to sneak into the security office and search through everything. If he’s working to cover up crimes or anything of that nature, he’s got to have something on him — I’m sure of it.” 

“Knowing that cockeyed baboon, I’d say that’s a safe assumption.” Olivia snickered. “But I don’t know if I like the idea of you interrogating him by yourself...” She cast him an unsure glance. 

“I don’t plan on it, Liv. I just need to find Drake.” 

Almost as if on cue, Drake emerged from Penelope’s doorway, carefully dodging the caution tape. He glanced around and as his eyesight landed on Liam, he furrowed his brows and approached. “What’re you doing here, Li? Are you alright?” 

“We have something to take care of.” Liam quickly and quietly laid out the current plan, as well as a vague description of their accusations. 

“Fuck, man… I gotta admit — I had no clue why Liv and that guy had to leave, but I got to stick around.” Drake shook his head, trying to comprehend this blindsiding revelation. 

“If I had to take a guess, I’d say he wanted someone Liam trusted around but needed to ensure the person was completely and utterly clueless,” Olivia inserted with a crooked grin.

Drake scoffed. “First of all, fuck you. Second, you might actually be right, but — you’re still a flaming bitch.” 

“Stop trying to flatter me, Walker,” Olivia retorted, afterward focusing on Liam. “Are we doing this?” 

Liam let out a deep huff of air. “Yeah, we are. Let’s do this.” He responded with the utmost resolution. He squared his shoulders, craned his neck from side to side, and strode into the room with Drake close behind. Olivia took off in the other direction to do her part in Liam’s plan, moving with brisk precision to reach her destination. 

As he entered, Liam got the attention of a few guards and motioned for them to follow. Bastien examined underneath Penelope’s bed, completely oblivious to the added presence in the room. He cleared his throat to gather Bastien’s attention, and Liam noticed his shoulders tense as he identified who stood before him. 

Bastien slowly rose with uncertainty painted on his features. “Your Majesty? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be receiving treatment?” 

Liam chortled as he stalked toward Bastien. He kept a smile plastered in place and shook his head, muttering to himself. When he made it directly in front of him, Liam lowered his voice to a low, gravely rumble; the fake grin he wore instantly replaced by a menacing scowl. “... I bet you’d like that — wouldn’t you?”

Bastien visibly and audibly swallowed. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating, sir, but I—”

“Of course not.” Liam dismissively agreed. He took a couple of steps back and shrugged. “Regardless, you’re coming with us.”

Panic flashed in Bastien’s eyes; it was brief, but Liam caught it. “With all due respect, I’m not quite finished investigating Lady Penelope’s suic—”

“That is not what this is, and you damn well know it!” Liam abruptly shouted. A tense silence hung for only a moment until he cleared his throat and flatly added, “This is a homicide, and you are no longer a part of it.” He met eyes with one guard who got the silent order loud and clear, the other following suit. They rushed Bastien and captured his arms behind his back, securely holding him in place.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Bastien hollered as he attempted to evade their grip. 

“You’re being taken into custody.” 

“Whatever for?!” Bastien demanded. 

Drake stood in Bastien’s line of sight, mirroring Liam’s irate features. He held his gaze for a long, heated moment before snapping, “You’d better hope and pray we’re wrong, Bastien.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Drake?!” Bastien yelled, squirming against the grasp of those holding him.  

Neither answered the question but merely glared at him; the sheer betrayal and outrage they felt radiated off of them, eliciting a shiver to run down Bastien’s spine. He calmly reasoned, “Sir, I don’t know what this is about, but we can have a rational conversation without all of this nonsense.” He motioned to the guards holding him. 

“No, I don’t think we can, because you see —” Liam stalked toward Bastien, staring into his eyes so intently that he could almost see the wall behind him. As he made it into his comfort zone, Liam lowered his voice and rasped, “They’re only here to get rid of your body if I have to.” He smirked at Bastien’s wide eyes, as well as his complexion paling instantaneously. 

Liam held Bastien’s gaze but addressed the guards. “Take him down to the cells. I’ll be right behind you.”

As they dragged Bastien away, he hollered and stirred up a fuss. Liam ignored his pleas, instead trying to prepare himself for what lay ahead. He wanted clarity, but a part of him dreaded Bastien’s confession; it would be another stark reminder of what his negligence caused. The guilt tearing away at his insides was at an unfathomable level, but he had to push that aside to focus on the task at hand.

He tried to keep his composure, but the gloves were off; there was no more control. Bastien knew something and regardless of what he had to do, Liam was hell bent on making him talk. Innocent lives taken and families destroyed, along with Riley’s heinous attack — all of which rested heavily on his conscience. He was determined to serve a steaming hot platter of justice to all he deemed deserving, regardless of what it took.

The next step in making that happen was getting a pig to squeal. 

As he stood next to Drake, the facade of a composed monarch slipped onto the floor. He didn’t have enough strength left to keep it together. He embraced his emotions and vowed to follow their direction, but the only thing remaining was pure, unfiltered rage. 

Gone was the timid, people-pleasing prince with his mother’s baby-blue eyes. Instead, a carnal lion with dark, dilated pupils awakened, centered on the dangling piece of meat in his face — Bastien.