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lizzybeth1986 · 4 months

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Drake and Kiara: When You're Fucking Racist

Series - TRR's Alternative LIs - The "Romances" that Didn't Happen

Previous - Hana and Madeleine: When You Reward Your Favourite Bully with One of Her Victims

A/N: Again, apologies for the length. There was a LOT to unpack in this one!! I'm really, really not going to be nice to Drake here. It was harrowing to go through a lot of these scenes again and I honestly don't have the patience or inclination to sugarcoat any of it.

CW: Mentions of gun violence and minimization of trauma. Mentions of racist fan vitriol towards a black character. Examination of the Jezebel stereotype.

Whenever I think about how unhinged the hatred towards Kiara (and especially towards Kiara's attraction to Drake) was, a specific edit comes to mind.

On the surface, it looks quite simple. Kiara in a white wedding dress, Drake right next to her in his blue formal suit. Both of them are smiling at the viewer. The background is a beautiful forest, and the entire picture is bathed in a lovely, muted sepia tone. A sweet, simple wedding scene.

The caption underneath this edit?

Classify under things no one asked for.

Kiara's dream come true!

The tags read "#i barf a little looking at this" and "#i must post to share the suffering". You find out in the comments that the OP created this edit inspired by one of the many fics where Kiara was Drake's stalker, and intended to make her creepy and deranged (but ultimately failed).

The comments are...tbh, things that this fandom has long since normalized and shrugged at when it comes to Drake stans. Multiple puke-face emojis. Multiple gifs signaling disgust. One stan even equates the ship name (Driara) to the word diarrhoea.

"She looks very stalkeresque and white "I drugged Drake so he's marrying me" wedding ready!"

"Well it's close to Halloween so we should expect scary shit"

"THAT is why I made that bitch my Maid of Honor...so she got the message LOUD AND CLEAR...it ain't NEVER gonna happen honey" (right below a barfing gif)

I wish I could say this example of Kiara hatred was the worst of the lot, or even the only one. It wasn't. I'm not sure even an entire essay would be adequate space to explore the sheer levels of vitriol, hatred and double standards dumped on this one character.

Until now, we've seen examples of alternative LIs that were treated with respect. With adulation. Often with kid gloves in case we hurt their poor lill fee-fees. Up until now, no matter what an alternative LI may have done, the LI matched with them wasn't allowed to treat them badly, nor was the MC able to get away with hurting them without punishment.

But in this series, Kiara was, is, and will always be an anomaly.

The Jezebel Stereotype

In most media, black women in particular tend to be subjected to a variety of stereotypes that often have serious, real-world implications. The Mammy, the Sapphire (that over time evolved to what we now know as the "Angry Black Woman" stereotype) and the Jezebel, being the most prominent ones among them. In this essay, I will be focusing specifically on the last.

An article in the Black Then website explains the definition and history of the trope this: "The portrayal of black women as lascivious by nature is an enduring stereotype. The descriptive words associated with this stereotype are singular in their focus: seductive, alluring, worldly, beguiling, tempting, and lewd. Historically, white women, as a category, were portrayed as models of self-respect, self-control, and modesty – even sexual purity, but black women were often portrayed as innately promiscuous, even predatory. This depiction of black women is signified by the name Jezebel."

So it isn't altogether uncommon to see stories where black women are juxtaposed against "pure", "innocent" white/white-passing women, and viewed as lesser. PB hasn't exactly escaped these stereotypes in their stories either - though there are a variety of characters and character types, we can't deny that there was a time when a black woman was made the antagonist, often in ways that were meant to measure her up to the MC/another white woman to her detriment.

(VoS screenshots from the HIMEME YouTube channel, ACOR screenshots from Vika Avey's YouTube channel)

Two very prominent examples of PB using this trope are Scarlett from VoS, and Xanthe from ACOR. There are other black women who serve as antagonists but in a more professional space, but these two particularly are measured on their attractiveness, sex appeal and "purity" in the narrative in comparison to either the MC, or someone close to them.

In VoS, Scarlett Emerson and Kate O'Malley are the sisters of the two male LIs (Grant and Flynn), but their treatment couldn't be any more different. Scarlett's role in the book is pretty short-lived. She's very prominent in the first half of the book as Kate's potential MOH who secretly hates her, before it's revealed in Ch 5 that Tanner was cheating on Kate with her (and that she'd loved him since she was a child). Notably, in that very scene, the MC places most of the blame on Scarlett (rather than on Tanner for choosing to betray his fiancée) by labelling the act as her seduction of him.

Thereafter she is either only mentioned, or has blink-and-you-miss-it appearances in one or two chapters. We see her in the "memory" portion of the bonus scene, but we are never shown what her future is like (even as minor characters like Miss Harleney get one!). Her bonus scene shows us how her bracelet ended up on Tanner's boat, and it is an uncomfortable scene to get through. Tanner berates Scarlett for having sex with him a week before his wedding, but it is she who points out that he asked her to come there! Yet the MC and others view her as the temptress who "seduced" Tanner, as if the man had no mind of his own.

The narrative often juxtaposes her with Kate, the pure, innocent, sweet fiancée (and she actually is! No pretence there) and the fandom lapped it up. There were many demands for Kate to be upgraded to LI status, which eventually resulted in PB allowing us to marry her if we chose. As I mentioned earlier, both Scarlett and Kate are sisters to two of our LIs - but one is made an LI, while no one bothers to even imagine what the other's future entails.

An even worse fate greets that of Xanthe, the sole female antagonist in ACOR. The slut-shaming and disgust over her overt sexuality is far more blatant here. And it is extremely ironic for Xanthe to be viewed in this way, because the MC herself is a courtesan and uses wiles to get men to do her bidding. While Xanthe herself is not perfect by any means - she is depicted as xenophobic and callous, going as far as to mock Syphax when he is sent away to a possible death as a gladiator - the MC's targeting of her goes beyond just her "righteous indignation" and develops into a form of hypocrisy. She has no qualms mocking Xanthe for her direct approach or her skimpy red dress (even though the MC herself wears a skimpy red dress and can seduce a man in a temple not too long after).

The end Xanthe meets is horrific in its implications - the black matron of her scholae (who began by promising the MC herself that "you need do nothing against your will") sends her away to sexual slavery in Sicily, while the black man who was one of the few bastions of morality in the book, escorts her, smiling, to the ship that will take her there. As far as the narrative is concerned, the end was well-deserved...even though PB has had no issues allowing white women to do far worse without any punishment.

We cannot view what ACOR did with Xanthe in isolation. They had built up to it early on - from the MC's reactions towards her, her patrons' dismissiveness of her, the MC's LIs' viewing her with derision and zero respect. The MC - despite her own unscrupulousness - is viewed as the "noble whore" to Xanthe, yet it is clear on even a surface read that there is not much difference between the two women.

The Jezebel stereotype, ultimately, is about dehumanizing the black woman it focuses on, so that her actions and choices are viewed as deviant from what is "normal" - feeding into either responses of disgust and derision, or a desire to objectify her. To some readers, it makes whatever awful or comparatively unfair end they meet, more palatable. Scarlett and Xanthe are not viewed as people by the narrative - especially not the way the MC of their books or even white female antagonists are. No one cares for their backstories, coos over their losses, wonders if they are okay. When they meet their inevitable end, the characters and so many in the fandom alike just shrug and move along.

How does a character like Kiara fit into this? Her smarts and linguistic talents are her most prominent traits, and while she does have feelings for Drake, she never really acts out-of-pocket towards him (more on this later). So at least from what we see in canon, there's very little about her that seems to apply to the Jezebel stereotype. Yet, the fandom is not only inclined, but eager, to view her as one. Kiara's feelings have been viewed in a far more predatory light, perhaps more often than any other female character in the series. Why is this so?

A response I have often seen - on reddit, on Kiara's wiki page, at times on Tumblr too - is how there is a "certain something" about Kiara that people "just don't like". Many players who prefer Penelope to her are often very aware of what she has done, but still insist they like her far more than they do Kiara. On a reddit thread about questioning the logic of having Kiara and Penelope as options for the MC's MOH in TRR3, certain players commented thus:

"I don't know why, I just dislike her a lot. Penelope is fine to me, but Kiara irritates me." (said commenter is an Aerin stan)

"I liked Penelope, I thought she was nice. But Kiara got on my nerves."

In her book, The Sisters Are Alright, Tamara Winfrey Harris makes an eye-opening (to me at least!) observation about how misogynoir works:

"Misogynoir, abetted by dehumanizing caricature, is like water. It fills its vessel, taking many forms, and then overflows, creeping unnoticed into the cracks of things, rotting the foundation. It spreads a belief in Black women’s inherent wrongness." (Italics mine).

Now of course, if I were to ask the current fandom, they would come up with a range of reasons. Some that emerged from fandom myths and became more popular than the truth in time, some from PB's excessive pandering to players that hated her. But the root of it all is in a certain "je ne sais quoi" that makes her automatically unappealing, resulting in those readers leaning towards misreading or misremembering her scenes, misrepresenting her motives, or watering down the impact of worse actions from whiter women. It results in a group of writers (who have thus far gone to the extent of retconning the worst of a white woman's actions just to make her look good) leaning into such readings, even when they're not true.

TRR1 Kiara: Pragmatic Courtier or Backstabbing Snake?

"Kiara is fake", "Kiara is a snob", "Kiara is self-serving", "Kiara promised to be friends with us but dropped us like a hot potato the moment we became unpopular". These are some of the most enduring takes about Kiara in the past few years, and readers who say this usually bring up a vague recollection of TRR1 and 2 as proof. Mostly that "Kiara was our friend" in the first book, and left us hanging at the beginning of TRR2.

Is that reading based in fact, though? Let's take a look at TRR1!Kiara and find out.

We are introduced to Kiara (along with Penelope, and standing next to Hana) in TRR3 when we meet Liam's other suitors. Olivia introduces each woman differently, and the descriptor she uses for Kiara is that she is the "daughter of a diplomat and fluent in ten languages" (note: Kiara never boasts of her linguistic skill, Olivia does. Nor are there any scenes of her looking down on anyone who doesn't speak her mother tongue French, unless of course you accidentally ask her to sleep with you).

Both she and Penelope note immediately that the MC doesn't quite fit in - if the MC questions the women about being allies with Olivia, a woman who calls them "harpies", they view that as an overreaction. When the MC tells the ladies at the Derby about getting lost, Kiara finds her tardiness and inability to fit in, a sign that she cannot keep up with the competition. Until the chapters in Lythikos, Kiara's and Penelope's characterizations are almost interchangeable, personality-wise. It is likely the team envisioned them more as European nobility rather than specifically Cordonian (based on Olivia's introductions), and they are both depicted as poised, refined and aware of their place in court.

It's in Lythikos that Kiara, at least, begins to show a more distinct personality (for Penelope it's after the Regatta). Unlike the rest of the court, who watches Olivia's unwanted kiss on Liam with either mild shock or disinterest, Kiara is angered by what she sees as a very obvious power-play - which gives the MC the opening she needs to gain an alliance.

Now this "alliance" scene of Kiara's is interesting, for two reasons. One is that fandom often uses this scene to establish her "double standards" in TRR2, claiming that Kiara opted to be friends with the MC. Yet nowhere in the scene does the MC or Kiara ever suggest a friendship with each other - they both agree to an alliance. Furthermore, this is an arrangement that benefits the MC more - there isn't exactly anything she contributes (or is expected to contribute) to Kiara from her end. Kiara's promise is that she will put in a good word in the MC's favour, and she upholds that promise throughout the social season.

Another is that among the courtiers, Kiara herself is the first person to identify and respond to the MC's potential if she shows it at the Derby and the tea party (though Hana is also a courtier, I view her strictly as an LI in this context - since her support is by default and is founded on a more emotional basis). Not many nay notice this, but there is a distinction between how Kiara responds to an MC in a successful play vs a failplay...in a way that none of the other suitors do. Take note of the screenshots below:

The top two pictures in this collage are dialogues that feature by default. The bottom two, however, are dependent on branch-coding. They only appear IF the MC has managed to win the approval of the King, the Queen and the press. If you don't succeed in the same, she will not mention your performance in the social season at all, nor will she say anything about the value of your alliance.

That is a far bigger deal than most players of this series realize. It means that Kiara has been watching us closely, and has understood our potential over the course of just three court events. Only two other characters are shown tracking our progress this way: Bertrand (who is our sponsor, so he has to keep track) and Queen Regina (who can guess already her stepson's feelings for the MC, which automatically makes her a person of interest). For Kiara to understand the MC's capabilities, and to openly admit she has potential this early in the competition - it takes a high level of rationality, honesty and pragmatism to come to such a conclusion. Unlike Olivia (who lashes out in jealousy at the MC), Penelope (who has to be told why exactly it's good to have allies), and Madeleine (who dismisses us as competition until it's too late), Kiara actually views the MC with a discerning, impartial eye and an objective approach.

So on the surface, it appears as if Kiara is written by a team that likes her! You could almost be convinced that they thought she was cool but were forced to pander to "crazy Drake stans" in their writing later (which is an argument I have heard often). After all, she's established as beautiful, skilled, smart and observant. You wouldn't do that for a character you don't like, right?

But even as early as TRR1, a disdain for Kiara creeps in from the writing that you rarely see for any of the others.

This is especially apparent when you look at how Kiara's proficiency with language is spoken about. It is supposed to be her most visible skill - Olivia identifies her by it, we see her peppering her English sentences with French words (of course, many may argue that she doesn't exactly sound like an actual French person...but let's remember that her writers aren't exactly very used to the language themselves or interested in doing extra research for authenticity!). As we approach the end of the first book, there are at least two dialogue options that result in people doubting her abilities or mocking her for speaking only English and French most of the time.

In TRR1 Ch 16, Madeleine optionally speaks to the MC over phone (believing her to be a reporter taking her interview) about her thoughts on Kiara. Kiara's tendency to speak mostly in French and English is supposed to be a sign that she "exaggerates her accomplishments". Mind you, this is from the same woman who claims to be the best choice for Cordonia despite her poor strategies and her antagonizing potential allies during the engagement tour (TRR2); who complains if the MC doesn't compliment her for mediocre work as a press sec (TRR3). The MC can also choose to diss Kiara in a similar way, treating Kiara like she is a circus performer and her skills as if they are meant for the MC's entertainment. The only solace I could derive from this dumpster fire of a dialogue option, was that Kiara managed to shut the MC up with her multilingual response.

No other time are we allowed to call a courtier's abilities and skills into question. The MC accepts on faith that Olivia is a badass with great fighting skills. Same with Penelope's ability as a seamstress. The MC is never even allowed to have legitimate complaints about Madeleine's work as press sec, besides maybe that she could "be a little nicer". So the fact that the writers not only have other characters doubt Kiara's talent, but also allow people to mock her about it in all three books...is really something.

Another possible indicator of this disdain is the fact that Kiara is the only suitor who never gets a chance to actually interact with Liam on-screen. Even Penelope, a fellow minor character, can approach and talk to him twice...and her gift to him is shown in Ch 18 whereas Kiara's and Hana's aren't. Despite the fact that Kiara is a potential suitor, the story never allows her to interact with Liam. She doesn't exactly have any interactions with Drake in this book either, but honestly nor does any other couple have much time together besides Liam and Olivia.

Drake and Kiara hardly seemed to be a possibility back in TRR1. Drake himself didn't seem to associate with anyone besides the MC and the group in the first book (and even with the group his interactions were infrequent). Kiara herself doesn't have many scenes that aren't related to the court or to the competition, even once she is no longer participating. The closest she comes to any sort of association besides Penelope, is a friendship with Hana that begins sometime before the Fox Hunt. Drake and Kiara never actually have any scenes together, or interactions, or references. It is likely that the idea to pair them up was entirely a Book 2 thing.

On a fandom level, neither Kiara or Penelope garnered much attention or fan reactions. They weren't noticed much, nor did you see their scenes too often. Probably that is why it was so damn easy to remember Kiara's entire equation with the MC wrong. Why certain stans of the book were able to get away with misrepresenting the relationship between her and the MC in TRR1, to hate on her in TRR2. I will not deny, though, that certain dialogue choices from PB (like "I thought we were friends!" in the Fydelia scene) may have had a hand in those beliefs becoming the "truth".

TRR2 Kiara - Pragmatic Courtier or Backstabbing Snake (Part 2)

I plan to get into the way the Drake and Kiara angle is framed in canon, but before that it's important to tackle that one elephant in the room - Kiara telling the MC the alliance is over. Because very often, people used this scene (coupled with their misinterpretations of Book 1) as their "justification" to hate her. Often, people would choose the ruder options (such as the Christmas card dialogue) and assume that Kiara was rude by default, rather than as a consequence of the MC's behaviour towards her.

Kiara and Penelope are the first to express surprise at the MC's return (and their reactions are shown as representative of the rest of the court). Kiara in fact is shocked that the MC dared to return (which is kinda warranted! Several people in these early chapters view that as a risky move, a gamble that could backfire on her. That's why Bertrand gets her a press secretary). Their scene with the MC immediately follows the MC's conversation with Liam and Madeleine (and mind you, in the option where the MC can tell her she was set up, Madeleine herself voices disbelief of the same. Conveniently, this is never used as a reason to hate her). Both women let the MC know of their change in status, and therefore the change in their relationship with her.

What gets missed overall, is that Kiara is a lady-in-waiting (which is an actual role with specific duties) to Madeleine, which means her loyalty now has to lie with this woman whether she likes it or not. For her to even agree to approach the MC and explain the situation, is a risk. In at least two dialogue options in this scene, she tells the MC straight-up that they will be in trouble if they're even seen talking to her (this becomes a moot point by Ch4, mostly because Madeleine herself is shown talking to the MC and allowing her into conversations in public, once Hana arrives).

Penelope is often viewed in a better light in this scene because of her obvious friendliness and her sadness at no longer being the MC's friend, but once you have the reveal of her being a traitor, her behaviour in this scene seems wildly disingenuous, and I'm surprised more people didn't call her a fake when the reveal came out. She had to know the allegations against the MC were fake when she rushed to hug her, having been an integral part of that fabrication. It makes her lament when she's caught, in the failplay, ("I can't do anything right. You were never supposed to find out!") that much more chilling. She is eager to have the benefit of the MC's friendship and emotional support, without ever being honest about her role in smearing her reputation.

The other was that - no matter what you may choose to think of this scene - Kiara was placing herself at risk to let the MC know it was over. Approaching the MC was the right thing to do, but what is never spoken about is the fact that it was also a brave thing to do. Rather than ghost the pariah of the court and never give an explanation, she tells her honestly what the situation is, and strives to protect her impulsive friend (who could get both of them in trouble) at the same time.

When you view Kiara's actions from that lens - when you look at the facts - suddenly the claims that Kiara was "fake", "a flip-flopper", "a backstabber", "unscrupulous and self-serving", sound pretty hollow.

TRR2: The Drake x Kiara "Romance" Begins...and So Does the Vitriol

So...an interesting thing about the general reaction to Kiara in the early chapters of TRR2. I was new to the fandom when this book was released. There was an annoyance at Kiara when the first chapter came out, but to my surprise it didn't exactly become full-blown hatred until she started showing an interest in Drake in Ch 3.

This book is often used as a reference by Drake stans when they speak of Kiara as an obsessed, stalker-type, sex-hungry woman - often in contrast to their "pure", "innocent" MCs. Basically...the Jezebel. But the five scenes we see of this ship in the book itself tell a completely different story:

1. Drake Helps Kiara Lift A Heavy Beam (TRR2 Ch 3)

Chapter 3 is perhaps the first time we see an indication of Kiara's attraction to Drake on a physical level. The scene takes place at the barn raising, but only if we choose to stay with Drake over Hana for the barn raising activities. Kiara shows up in a rather pitiable state - her friend Penelope abandoned her for thirty whole minutes, leaving her to lift incredibly heavy beams alone. Drake helps Kiara and mildly chides her for not asking for his help, and Kiara stares at his bare chest, mesmerized.

She isn't exactly alone in this - the MC herself ogles at his bare chest at one point (if we go by the lines in the narrative that read "his muscles glisten in the sunlight" which is def from the MC's PoV). This scene was meant as fanservice for stans who wanted to drool over Drake's physique for a bit, and belatedly build up an alternative (at least for all three male LIs, they were trying to do this in TRR2).

The MC can either point out Kiara's obvious attraction towards Drake, or suspect her of being part of the plot. This will not be the last time the MC or the group will view her with suspicion, with little to no basis in fact. In the option that calls attention to Kiara's attraction to Drake, she is shown covertly sneaking a second look at him. Drake is shown with a visible discomfort at even the idea that Kiara could like him, one that only the MC notices considering she is working in proximity with him.

The reaction to this was instantaneous from several Drake x MC shippers. One or two glances at Drake's chest was enough for Drake stans to begin typing posts in capslock, screaming "BACK OFF KIARA HE'S MINE". The excuses given at the time were that the MC didn't get much opportunity to romance him (Drake was trying to refrain from kissing her in Ch 2 because he felt guilty), and largely-inaccurate judgements of Kiara's character. Jealousy of this kind is sometimes seen as the norm when you have a popular ship and a third angle is created, but this was about to take form in some...very disturbing ways in later chapters.

2. Kiara was Once Savannah's Friend/Kiara's long-standing crush on Drake (Ch 4)

A misconception I often see in the fandom (particularly in relation to how Kiara's feelings for Drake aren't given the same level of consideration that Olivia's for Liam is) is that Olivia's are "more genuine", and Kiara's are "mere lust" or "only physical" and this is probably why she's not given as much respect as Olivia was. Even though, tbh, Kiara was far, far more respectful of Drake and his personal space, than Olivia was of Liam in TRR1.

Leaving aside the obvious problems with that train of thought (viewing sexual feelings as "lesser" just because they're not rooted in some intense emotion), this is not even true, and the first part of the Driara garden party scene is proof enough. Kiara says, straight up, that Drake had been "such a good friend to [Liam]. It's part of why I always liked you." (Bold mine). If the MC voices doubts about this (likely incorporated for readers who would question it as a retcon...and it was a retcon since they didn't interact in TRR1), Kiara tells her that she doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve, which actually matches her practical approach to most things. In fact just a few scenes earlier, when the MC questioned her about wanting a husband (when she'd mentioned earlier about wanting to join the ministry), Kiara informs her that it would never hurt to have both. So it makes sense for her character if she's someone who kept her feelings for Drake a secret, especially while in a competition for winning the Crown Prince's hand. But we cannot, in any honest capacity, claim that Kiara's feelings for Drake weren't deep enough, or lasting enough, or genuine enough. At least based on the evidence we have.

Another point this scene brings up is Kiara's friendship towards Savannah. Up until this point, the only people who did reference her were Olivia, Drake and Maxwell - and Olivia's mockery of especially seemed to imply that the ladies of the court weren't very nice to her. Kiara's account is very different from this, and actually quite affectionate ("she was one of us", "she was coming along so well in learning French"). It's not the closest friendship, but Kiara did care enough to tutor her in the language and clearly missed her. It is possible that this scene was positioned to both build up to the alternative romance and foreshadow Savannah's presence in Paris. There is a lot more that could have been done with this angle, but perhaps that is a discussion for another section.

3. Never-Have-I-Ever (Ch 9)

This is a small option in a drinking game - the MC can get to say "never have I ever had a crush on Kiara", and loses, because Drake says she isn't his type (ironically he claims he isn't her type in the next chapter). It's interesting that he does consider her as not as bad as some of the others in that group.

3. Flirting with Drake in Paris (Ch 10)

For five chapters, we don't see any more hints of this romance. We see Drake in plenty, and we see quite a bit of Kiara. But none of it shows them together.

Kiara's scene with Drake at the tea party, is in some ways a continuation of his diamond scene with Savannah. He knows now where his sister is and what her big secret was, but this scene is where he realises how little he actually knew about her, if even her "noblewoman friend" knew she had intentions to go to Paris and he, her brother, didn't. This scene also takes place at what I call a "rest period" in the story - the group has just come out of a high-intensity altercation with Bastien, and it is one chapter before the major reveal about Constantine. So the MC can relax a little, some of the loose ends of previous stories can be tied up, and we get a vibe check on at least two alternative ships.

Drake is rather civil to Kiara in this conversation, mostly because he's trying to get information about his sister out of her. There isn't much he contributes besides this - it doesn't seem to matter much to him that Kiara was a rare friend among the court to Savannah (tho TRR3 would later retcon this), and when she talks about herself he doesn't pay much attention. Kiara does make an attempt at a light flirtation which goes largely unnoticed.

The MC's response when she first sees them goes three ways - a neutral comment about the petit-fours, a "matchmake-y" comment that points to them that they "look cozy", and a "jealous" comment about interrupting them. The third one especially results in Drake inadvertently confirming he doesn't think of Kiara in a romantic light, and Kiara appearing disappointed. Remember, at this point she doesn't see much evidence that Drake and the MC romancing him are an item.

The follow-up conversation with Drake, too, follows along similar lines. The neutral comment just asks him about the information he gathered from Kiara, the "matchmake-y" one points out she has feelings for Drake and the "jealous" one is... something.

The third response is very obviously crafted for the more possessive Drake stans to get satisfaction from dissing Kiara, perhaps in a more aggressive way than the Maxwell stans could. While the Maxwell MC can pass an insult or two to discourage Penelope, the Drake MC will go as far as to tell him he belongs only to her, and can threaten to "push her into the petit-fours".

Ironically, this scene follows a scene with Olivia about her lingering feelings for Liam - and Olivia's grief, the MC's clear sympathy and Liam's concern for Olivia are all by default. There is a certain level of sensitivity the Liam MC is required to have for Olivia that is never once expected of the Drake MC, and that plays out in very dangerous ways in the next book.

This scene, again, brought forth rather violent reactions, and in fact the language of the MC's responses itself seemed to encourage that kind of response. A poster later compiled an entire set of these responses ranging from mocking, to "back off, Kiara!" to straight up demands for murder (I couldn't link to this post because the names of the people involved were included in it, but I do have quite a few of those screenshots for reference).

After this point, you don't see any more scenes where Kiara actively flirts. In fact for most of the second half you see her and Penelope very rarely. So it does feel really wild in retrospect that "obsessed Kiara" became such a popular interpretation, after one checking-out scene, one flirtation and one rather sweet and genuine compliment of him as a person.

4. Pranking Kiara (Ch 17)

A pattern you would have noticed by now is that there is a bit of a mean streak in Drake for Kiara that is either very dominant or latent, based on whether the MC tries to encourage him, or shows jealousy towards her.

And this isn't necessarily an indicator that he can never be interested in Kiara. A distrust for nobility is almost a norm for him at this point, and let's not forget that Drake's first few interactions with the MC too didn't exactly leave her with the best impression of him either. Kiara initially being on Madeleine's side at the beginning of the story could be a factor in some level of disdain too. Such complications could - in a good story - add layers to a potential romance in the future if that was the direction the writing was going for.

Around the MC who doesn't mind them as a pair, he shows a small sliver of an inclination towards Kiara herself. His response if the MC points out that Kiara was flirting with him (Ch 10) is that he doesn't believe he is Kiara's type, not the other way around. In this scene, a drunk Drake who is encouraged to write a "nice note" to her as a prank, can write "your hair is pretty and your French is totally not stupid". Both of these lines present a sign of a possibility that a romance could happen. His behaviour when an MC casually hints at this possibility, is of someone who may like this woman deep down, but show it in very strange ways (akin to the age-old metaphor of the "boy who pulls the pigtails of the girl he has a crush on"). They wouldn't have even needed to show his responses in this way if they weren't trying to hint at a possibility.

His response to a "jealous" MC is to delightedly bask in her possessiveness of him, and to go hand-in-glove with her as she insults or suggests violence on Kiara in any way. Now one could perhaps headcanon this as a behaviour that comes from being unused to female attention focused on him, coupled with his affection for the MC - but when you take into account his behaviour towards Kiara herself in TRR3 as well, there seems to be a blatant lack of consideration or compassion towards her as a human being. Compare this, again, to the way Liam's behaviour towards Olivia is written in canon, and interpreted by the fandom. Liam is expected to be kind to her, even if he's clueless about her feelings or if she is harming him (eg. Even when she kisses him, he cares enough to opt for a reaction that will not publicly humiliate Olivia).

Not so for Drake. He is very happy to follow in the MC's lead, even in hurting Kiara. And in this scene, he pretty much kickstarts it with the suggestion of a prank.

Drake knows where Kiara's room is (thanks to a nameplate on the door, and the familiarity of the hallway, which he likes for the view outside) and wants to prank her. The MC can either accept or refuse. If she accepts, there is one nice option, and two distinctly mean-spirited ones. The first proposes to mess up her book organizational system, and the narrative describes the attempt as "ruining any semblance of order to Kiara's bookshelves". These are materials she likely requires for her career as an aspiring diplomat, or even books she uses to update herself on the world. But to this MC and Drake, her work and interests are little more than a joke.

The second one is not only aggressively mean - it also is an attempt to ruin her personal space with her personal items. Going by the array of haircare the narrative mentions, maintaining her hair is very important to Kiara (I am not equipped enough to speak about black women and their relationship with their hair, but this option did make me very uncomfortable, because of the little I've seen on how essential regular haircare and good products can be for many black women). Not only does the MC suggest using all that product to render Kiara's bed practically unusable, she also insists Drake waste the full bottle of said product. Because, yknow. "It's a prank. Go big or go home". Drake has one moment where he tries to be less mean in this option (when he attempts to use less of her hairspray), but the moment the MC encourages him towards a crueller direction he does not hesitate. In fact, when the MC first suggests this option, he regards her with something approaching awe, and praises her as "an evil genius".

There's a mean streak in Drake here no matter which option you choose. If you do go for the nicer one, he complains at first that it's not exactly a prank and in fact does claim that they "could still put glitter in her cupboard" as an alternative prank. But the other two options encourage the player to give full vent to whatever underlying frustration/enmity/hatred one could possibly have against Kiara, goading a drunk Drake to be merciless towards the things in her room, in her absence.

Maybe, perhaps, one could just view this as a "fun vent" for the "possessive stans". It allowed the Drake MC and her LI the chance to gang up on her, mock her and cause her discomfort through things that were clearly important to her, treat her like the butt of their joke, and get away with it. When you encourage that kind of hatred with your writing, it can go into some very dark, disturbing places. And it did, especially in TRR3.

The overall response to this scene didn't show much, since it was just one small sequence in a larger scene - and most of the focus was on the heartfelt bonding between Drake and the MC when he takes her to his "special hideout" and his reveal about his motives behind calling the MC by her surname.

Many Drake stans, however, took note of this specific section, and took their interpretations in a completely different direction. Questions were asked about why Drake knew about Kiara's room - completely ignoring that he frequented the hallway regardless for its view and her nameplate is literally placed outside her door - and several fans suspected the two to be involved in an affair just on the basis of him knowing where her room was. These suspicions, again, would crop up from the fandom in a more dramatic way in TRR3.

5. Drinks at Homecoming Ball (Ch 19)

This scene takes place in the finale, just before Kiara and Penelope apologize jointly to the MC for their comments in the beer garden.

Drake is, quite predictably, at the bar in this scene. In some ways one could draw a parallel between this one and the "bar" scene between him and the MC in TRR1 - the only differences being that the two were alone in the first, and that he and the MC are free to romance each other now. However this time, the two ladies of the court could also communicate with him about drinks, and he could use his knowledge of alcohol to guess their preferences.

The scene with Kiara is, again, written to be both a possible sign of familiarity and a diss (mostly the second, I think). With Penelope he just vaguely mentions cocktails and focuses on the decoration for the drink - with Kiara he is able to name the specific wine even though in TRR3 he has no idea what tannins are. There are ways one could envision that as a sign that he notices more about Kiara than he lets on.

The diss, of course, comes with his claim that no matter how top-shelf the wine is, it will still always be "old grape juice" (which is a very strange thing to say because most alcohols are fermented from basic ingredients be it fruit or grains - where did he think his high-quality whiskey that he regularly carries around in his personal flask came from??).

Kiara's attempt to impress him is pretty obvious, but the diss isn't something that weighs too much on her mind. There are less indicators here of a dejection if he brushes her aside, unlike the scene in Ch 10 - she just looks a bit surprised he could guess the exact drink she wanted. Kiara in this scene is more likely to shift gears to something more important. In this case, that is apologizing to the MC for what she views as poor behaviour that sprung up under the influence of alcohol, and offering her an olive branch (the specific apology is for her asking the MC if she came to gloat, not for telling her the alliance was over at the beginning of the tour. In that scene specifically she feels she has nothing to apologise for, and I'm inclined to agree for the reasons I stated in that section).

The overall pattern for this ship seems to indicate that it's...kinda there in case the MC doesn't want to pick Drake, but I always feel like they focused a lot more on the jealousy options and didn't spend enough time to see what a possible relationship could look like. They do claim later that Kiara's affections were supposed to be one-sided, but the buildup at least seemed to indicate some small baseline of interest from Drake's end, even if shown in some rather bizarre ways. However, because there seems to be very little respect for this character already, having the MC threaten violence and having her and Drake overreact over what were essentially harmless interactions from Kiara's end really does indicate that the writers didn't mind taking potshots at her whenever they felt like it. Like I've said before, the trashfire that was Kiara's treatment in TRR3 didn't develop overnight.

Smart, Skilled...Disliked?: Kiara and the Writing Team in TRR3

On 25th Sept 2023, PB released a two-chapter series on Storyloom called "Choices Secrets", which involved at least three writers (Andrew, Kara and Chelsa) talking about ideas and plots and backstories that didn't make it to the released book. In one section, Kara Loo speaks specifically about the ending of TRR2:

According to this account, the original idea was to kill off Olivia and possibly use that as a segue into the Nevrakis plot of the book, since her aunt and Justin were the real villains at the end of the series. When they decided to keep her alive in the series, Kara mentions finding "more members of your group get injured, like Drake".

Interestingly, Kara referred to "members" in the plural, and Drake is the only person from the core group to get shot. So it's just as possible that the choice to have Bastien, Justin/Anton and Kiara sustain injuries, was made once they decided to do away with the storyline about Olivia's death.

Olivia got spared because her writers cared for her. Kiara was likely one of the people injured in her stead, and probably the only one out of them (except for the one who was the main villain) who wasn't getting a prominent scene that focused on her being a survivor of the attack until some readers protested (the entire intro of TRR3 was dedicated to Drake recieving tender care from the MC, Bastien gets showered with concern and care from Constantine, Liam and optionally the MC. The MC comes to the estate, makes a perfunctory mention of the injury once and proceeds to emotionally blackmail Kiara into joining the tour. Let's not even talk about Lythikos. That shit warranted its own essay). No matter how much you downplay the situation, the truth is that Kiara got grievously hurt in a terrorist attack and her writers didn't think it was important enough to address.

I often wondered in the beginning, why Kiara was chosen for this. A close friend at the time theorized that perhaps it was done to ensure Madeleine would become our press secretary, because there was no way the MC would be considering her for this position if someone less hostile (like Kiara) was around. Another wondered if we might get opportunities to address palace security through the experiences of the survivors. Being a Drake x Kiara supporter at least by the end of TRR2, I wondered whether it was a coincidence that they both were injured at the same ball, and the possibility of the two bonding over such a painful experience.

Well. Boy was I about to be disappointed.

Because why did Kiara have to be so badly injured, if it was going to amount to nothing? If they weren't even going to address it in her own home? If - after even players who didn't care much for her, noticed the silence around that attack - the best you could offer was a scene that followed the MC and her friends suspecting the victim of this attack??

Had I looked at Kiara's narrative treatment (from TRR1 onwards) closer back then, perhaps I wouldn't have expected so much. It would have occurred to me that maybe they hurt Kiara the most, because they cared for her the least. Kiara is viewed as smart, poised, talented. Madeleine even calls her "one of the more competant courtiers" at some point. But that doesn't always mean that the team that writes her deems her worthy of respect.

For one, the writers tend to lean more into fandom perceptions of her in this book, rather than looking at their own canon. Kiara being a snob is not canon - that is ridiculous considering that she was such good friends with Savannah, and her support of the MC when she fits in well. Kiara acting like her linguistic skill makes her better than anyone else isn't canon either - nor is she obliged to speak in all ten languages on a loop just for the MC's or Maxwell Beaumont's entertainment. Kiara being perpetually mean to her best friend is inaccurate at best - she is often frustrated by Penelope, sure, but she spends far time and energy helping her than anyone else in that court.

Yet the narrative gives both these statements as dialogue options for the MC, where she can bitch about Kiara...but somehow only ever allows the same MC to be nice and caring and loving to Penelope - never once reminding her of the hell she'd put the MC through in the past. And because the fandom expected the Kiara-Penelope friendship to focus only on Penelope, PB got away with having Kiara's "best friend" stay conveniently silent as the MC berated her in her own home. The narrative even threw Kiara under the bus in TRR3 Ch 16, in order to make Madeleine look better in Hana's memories of the TRR2 bachelorette, claiming falsely that Kiara shouted at Penelope so much while drunk, that the latter was brought to tears. There is way more energy spent in painting an inaccurate and negative portrait of Kiara, than there is in showing the truth.

For another, the way the courtiers' and their parents' agreement to join the tour is coded...is extremely suspicious. When you compare both a successful and a failplay, you will find that all the parents have the chance to reject the MC's proposal to join the tour...except for one. Kiara's father, Hakim. In a failplay where you purposely do all the wrong things...out of the entire group of people who are still doubtful about supporting you, only Kiara and Hakim join your tour by default, without any expectation of a reward (Madeleine demands her own department after the wedding). They will be a part of it no matter what you do, no matter your failures, no matter how badly you treat them.

Hakim may have joined mainly to confront his old friend the King, but he still stays on even after Constantine dies. The writers made sure to branch-code things in a way that Kiara and Hakim could never drop out even if the MC was awful to Kiara, and never once acknowledged what it must take for them to do that. After Kiara herself had been fucking stabbed!!!!

Joelle, Kiara's mother, and Ezekiel, Kiara's brother, can reject the offer if they aren't impressed with the MC, but out of these two characters only one is viewed with respect - the one they were going to pair up with Penelope.

The narrative doesn't mind letting the MC mock Joelle for her passionate support of the arts if she doesn't win her approval, and her insistence that it is the sign of a thriving kingdom...and they make her sound petulant and churlish in response to that mockery. This despite the fact that in a successful route, she says one of the most profound political statements in the books:

"Hakim and I don't just want Cordonia to remain stable and peaceful. Those are blessings, naturallement, but our kingdom can do so much more than just survive."

In contrast, when you look at the same failplay, Emmeline and Landon are treated with far more respect from the narrative, even though Hakim and Joelle's plans for the country would benefit Cordonia as a whole. Drake looks up to Penelope's parents as an inspiration, especially if he's going to become a duke. Meanwhile Hakim actually acknowledges Drake and his bravery in a way that none of the other dukes and duchesses did, and Drake never gives a shit.

Emmeline can accuse the MC of not taking their situation seriously, if she does a bad job at the polo match, and the MC only has the grace to look contrite rather than lash out at her. Landon himself is never judged for coddling his daughter the way he does. Their focus on Portavira rather than the country is respected, and the MC not meeting their demands is viewed as her weakness, not an overreaction from their end. They never get the snarky responses Joelle gets, where the MC can outright call her "a handful" in front of her own husband.

And then there is the matter of how PB deals with the problems of all the court ladies.

(Screenshots from the Skylia YouTube Channel)

The period of the Unity Tour isn't exactly an easy time for anyone. The LIs each deal with their own shit, and the ladies of the court themselves have their own reasons for being reluctant to return. The entire point of this tour is to address their specific concerns as well as that of their families', because without the courtiers themselves we wouldn't have as strong a court.

In Madeleine's case, we have to talk to her through a diamond scene and then educate her mother on her ways of mourning lost opportunities, among other things. In Penelope's case we are required to give her complete protection and emotional security, for her to even bother joining the tour (there is branch coding where she can refuse to be a part of the tour at all). Even for Olivia - who is already an ally - the diamond scene encourages us to stand up to her aunt, by letting Olivia know that it is valid for her to lean on others for support without being considered weak.

But for Kiara? The best we can come up with, while in her duchy, is some version of - "You're smart. You'd know that if you left now, people will say bad things about Cordonia and then it would be your fault". You either manipulate her, or insult her as being a useless excuse of a diplomat. As I mentioned in another essay, Kiara's comfort is a non-factor. The gap between the care we were expected to give to Madeleine and Penelope, and what we deign to give Kiara in Castelserraillan (which is...well...nothing), is massive. And this gap would only increase - not reduce - in the books to come.

It might seem a bit irrelevant to talk about this, especially when this essay is about Drake and Kiara. But it's important to take note of this inherent disdain the writers had towards this one character - and people close to her. Because it is only too easy to pretend that the writers "got scared of the crazy stans".

Of course the stans had a huge, huge role in this. Of course their vitriol and racism succeeded in bringing about (what I consider) one of the most disgusting dialogue options in this series...or perhaps in any series. But I doubt those "crazy stans" would have gotten this far, without a team that didn't mind being cruel to Kiara.

When the Fandom and Canon are both Heartless: Drake and Kiara in TRR3

As I've mentioned in previous essays in this series, playthrough divergences truly begin in TRR3 (eg. While the playthroughs acknowledge who you chose as endgame by end-TRR2, you can still access diamond scenes through a small tweak that allows you to romance other LIs). And whichever LI didn't get engaged with the MC had indications of a new romantic possibility coming up. These were scenes you wouldn't find in your own playthrough with that LI as your fiancé/e.

Kiara doesn't appear in TRR3 until Ch 7, when the entourage comes to her estate Castelserraillan. There aren't a lot of Drake and Kiara scenes themselves, and I will get into why, section by section.

1. Kiara Greets the Group at Castelserraillan (TRR3 Ch 7)

Many Drake stans - once they found their MCs engaged to Drake in TRR2 - seemed to be practically giddy at the prospect of showing off their newly-engaged status to Kiara, and hurting her through the news. They were perhaps more excited about this than their upcoming wedding.

Well, they got that chance in Ch 7. In every other playthrough, she still holds the same feelings for Drake, and compliments his suit as Drake awkwardly fails to meet her eye. In his specific playthrough, Drake defiantly shows off his relationship with the MC, and Kiara shows a slight wistfulness before she forces herself to be normal then wishes the happy couple well. You'd think that would be enough to satisfy the stans who had been baying for her blood all of the previous book.

A throwaway line about Drake knowing where Kiara's room was, had already raised the heckles of a whole bunch of his stans. Kiara's "wistful look" in her first TRR3 scene somehow added fuel to that fire. Suddenly, you got to see a raging torrent of posts demanding to know if Drake had had an affair with Kiara. Fanfic had already been written about Drake cheating on the MC with Kiara by this point - and some of those headcanons and fanfic hinged on making Drake the innocent/vulnerable one, taken advantage of by this sexy, obsessed woman who would be either a danger to him or would be juxtaposed with the "pure", "virginal", "perfect" MC. Drake would never be the problem here, and none of the stans screaming over the possibility of Drake sleeping with Kiara would dream of blaming him for it. No, Kiara was predatory, Kiara was obsessed, if anything happened between them it would be likely Kiara's fault.

This is where it's important to note, again, that none of the more obvious signs of the "Jezebel" stereotype seem to be used in canon for Kiara. While cruel in her own way, the TRR MC doesn't exactly slut shame her or believe Drake will be unfaithful to her, Kiara isn't accused of seducing (or even trying to seduce) anyone, and she actually places respectful personal boundaries for herself in her attraction to Drake, that she never crosses. She may indulge in a light flirtation with him, try to impress him or simply talk to him - but you will never catch her forcing her sexual attention on him like Olivia did with Liam. Yet in popular fanlore, even Olivia's feelings were often cast in a far more noble light in contrast to Kiara's.

In her essay, The "Offending" Breast of Janet Jackson: Public Discourse Surrounding the Jackson/Timberlake Performance at Super Bowl XXXVIII, Dr Shannon. L Holland explores the historical and contemporary uses of the Jezebel stereotype in depictions of Black women in popular culture and discourse, especially in contrast to white masculinity (which in these contexts, is often viewed as innocent and blameless - and much of the blame lies with the Jezebel figure). The "Jezebel" stereotype "has come to symbolize both a malign, cunning sexual object and an autonomous, liberated sexual agent" - she is at once an independent sexual being making her own choices, and someone who is "incapable" of reining in her sexual appetite...and is therefore often depicted as not only a threat to the "purer" (and often "whiter" or "lighter skinned") woman, but also dangerous for whoever she is "obsessed" with. And we see this time and again in the discourse around Kiara - the fanfic that depicts her in a range of scenarios (stalker, obsessed lover, abusive girlfriend who will break a bottle over Drake's head, at times even descending into murderer to get the man she wants). Which is how we wound up in a position where Kiara even breathing the same air as Drake was viewed as a threat.

It didn't matter that he was flaunting his love for the Drake MC in that playthrough to send a message to Kiara, or that he stayed silent with the others as his wife badgered her into joining the tour. It didn't even matter that Kiara never got a diamond scene the way the two other women did, despite being the most harmed among the ladies. What mattered was that Kiara existed. Her damn existence was the threat.

2. Cheering for Drake's Victory (Ch 10)

Ch 9 of TRR3 was released to players on April 27th, 2018. Immediately after, a mid-book hiatus was announced, mostly to work on some new art (very possibly the red pandas), work on the wedding, and make changes (such as shifting diamond scenes from character-centric ones to LI specific - they'd already started making changes to LI diamond scenes). The book would return 2 months later, in June.

In a livestream before the hiatus ended, the writers had made it very painfully clear that Kiara's feelings for Drake was one-sided. And by that I mean they really emphasized on the one-sidedness of her affection, almost as if to reassure the panicking stans. This would manifest in any future interactions between the two - both in Drake's single and engaged playthroughs - and any hope that such a pairing would even be hinted at was over. But there was one variation that the team had perhaps neglected to edit out.

A small one-word depiction of Kiara cheering Drake when he wins his duel against Neville, joining his friends to praise him. It really isn't much - just Kiara saying "bravo!" before Savannah rushes up to hug him, which is replaced by a scene of Drake himself going up to the MC and passionately kissing her in his own playthrough. What is definitely striking about this depiction is that Kiara was clubbed with his close friends and his sister, rather than the second group of people that largely represented the larger court (Rashad and Queen Regina) who offer their congratulations.

Given the way the writers wrote any remaining interactions between Drake and Kiara, and the fact that this small appearance doesn't really amount to anything, it is possible that this variation was part of an earlier draft that involved other hints, that the writers failed to notice when they put up Ch 10. If they had, I'm pretty certain it wouldn't have stayed in the book.

3. Leaving Court + Wedding Conversations

Remember how I kept stating in this essay that the narrative was going to take their enthusiastic pandering of the "possessive stans" end of the fandom, to some dark, disturbing places? Well, here we are.

Tbh, the writers could have just stopped showing any interactions between the two, or given Kiara another boyfriend if their aim was simply to show that Drake and Kiara would never be endgame. They had done that with Maxwell and Penelope already...oh. I forgot. They actually wanted us to care for Penelope.

Up until this point, Drake's mean streak re: Kiara was present, but not really as obvious as it gets here. PB takes that cruelty several steps further in these two chapters, starting with Ch 11. Ch 11 was fanservice to the people who shouted abuses and "joked" about killing Kiara in every chance they could get. Ch 12 showed this sentiment at its worst, covered it up with enough fluff so it would be harder for people who liked Kiara to notice...and let those players get away with it.

In Ch 11, Kiara approaches the MC and her group to inform them that she is withdrawing from the tour. Drake is the first to respond to this, remaking at the suddenness of the departure. The MC can speculate on a couple of things, ranging from sympathy (that she might be afraid), selfishness (that she is "bailing out" on the MC) and suspicion (that she is hiding something).

In all three options, a pensive Hana expresses sympathy and encourages the group to "reach out". In all three options, Drake will only view Kiara as a suspect.

Mind you - according to Ch 12, Drake is saying this knowing Kiara was injured at Homecoming Ball...and knowing exactly which weapon she was injured with. Aware that she has gone through an event as traumatic as that (if we go by his "just one step at a time" monologue to Kiara), better aware than most how it would feel...he still opts to act like her motives should be suspicious.

This is further emphasized in the Drake playthrough, through the armory scene that the MC takes with Maxwell.

As I've mentioned in the post on this scene, it is divided into three halves. The first half deals with whoever the MC rejected (either Liam, or Drake in Liam's playthrough). The third is buildup to Lucretia's plans to usurp the throne. The second is supposed to be about the excitement among the members of the court for the wedding, and of course as the only people who come for the tour by default (and Madeleine is already taken for the first scene), Kiara and Hakim are used for this scene!

I will only focus on the Drake version of this scene today. There are a few things you notice straight off the bat:

1. Since this is Drake's playthrough, the narrative seems to do away completely with any lingering feelings Kiara may have had are done away with. In this scene she is quite happy about Drake's wedding - in fact, practically chipper. Literally nothing about her behaviour here serves as a reminder that she once had feelings for him.

2. Drake's response to Kiara attending his wedding ties in pretty well with his earlier default suspicion of her. Unlike Hana who is surprised but also happy that Kiara is attending, he seems to voice it as a doubt or a question. While that makes sense and there is continuity, it's pretty awful that he is allowed to suspect her like this and feel no remorse when the truth about her is revealed.

3. Now as I said in the post, this scene is meant to be a buildup to Drake's ice-palace scene. He speaks about wanting a private, country-style wedding in a natural place there, and Kiara's gentle teasing in this scene is supposed to be an indicator of how much he dislikes the usual fanfare. Okay. Fair enough. You're uncomfortable with the fancy decorations and the insane planning, fine.

4. But it's Drake's attitude towards Kiara in this scene that leaves a bad taste in the mouth (unless you were one of those Drake stans that liked to threaten murder on this character ig). The narrative really went out of their way to make him sound uncommonly angry with her, just for asking about his wedding. He angrily hisses at her to keep her voice down the moment she asks about the wedding, and then lashes out the moment she teases him about his love for the MC and his reluctance to be very public about it in that context. Of course, people who either liked Drake or hated Kiara would downplay this scene - either blaming Kiara for not magically knowing his likes or dislikes, or acting like Drake's behaviour in this scene is no big deal.

And his explanation in the ice palace scene really doesn't cut it as a reason for why he should be this pissed off at Kiara's excitement. There is no real bitterness or resentment tied in with the fancy trappings that are mentioned in that specific scene - it's just that he likes simplicity better. If Kiara doesn't know him well enough to understand that - it's because he has never properly talked to her. She made attempts to converse whenever she could. You can claim he never owed her a conversation - but in that case she doesn't owe him a complete understanding of his wants either. He could have just politely answered the question and changed the subject, or quickly took his leave.

He is well-versed enough in court etiquette by this point that he could have managed to sound civil enough. That he could have made a quick, polite exit. But no, he gave her the kind of anger that one reserves for someone who is kicking a puppy or stealing candy from a child, instead. And it was Kiara's grace that allowed her to view that awful behaviour in a more positive light.

It's pretty clear this scene - and to some extent the framing of the next - was made specifically for those Drake stans who were screaming and throwing tantrums about a possible affair. It was to highlight that there was no way Drake could ever return Kiara's feelings - and the only way they could do that was by making sure he treated her as rudely and inhumanely as possible.

I didn't think it could get any worse than this, when I saw this version of the scene...but then I saw Ch 12.

The Talk

If you were to speak just about fandom reactions to this scene...the responses to Kiara chronicling her trauma after Homecoming Ball, were pretty positive. Plenty chose the middle option "You're suffering from the trauma of the event. You need help", and cooed over Drake's touching little monologue about "taking it one day at a time".

I admit at the time I was fooled too. But one thing did niggle at me as I played both this option, and the "understandably cautious" one (I would later understand that the latter was not very good either - it has a thin veneer of "validating" Kiara's feelings, but it still has the MC and Drake expecting her to put their needs before her own safety and sanity).

Drake was reassuring to an extent in both options, sure. But why were his responses so different? Why was his answer to Kiara so closely tied to whatever point the MC was making, rather than independent of it? After all, he was the one who should be able to better relate to Kiara - wouldn't he have thoughts of his own here? If the MC chose that horrible final option, Drake would correct her and comfort Kiara instead, wouldn't he? Wouldn't he???

It was only when I (reluctantly) pressed that third option ("not as driven as I thought you were") that I understood what Drake's role in this scene was.

He wasn't going to be there for Kiara. He wasn't even sympathetic to her! It wasn't even going to be about two traumatized people connecting over their trauma. Drake was a puppet. He was there to parrot whatever garbage came out of the MC's mouth.

Because in the third - and most horrific - option, the MC is allowed to minimize Kiara's trauma, and mock her ambitions in the face of what she has just gone through. Drake is allowed to agree with her ("sometimes ambassadors have to work in dangerous areas"). Kiara is forced by the same narrative to find value in these words.

And all of this, stems from a scenario where Drake and the MC go in suspecting this woman from the jump. Where Maxwell is happy to make jokes about her being a suspect. Where the only two decent people in this group - Liam and Hana - are conveniently written out of the scene, ensuring that these ghouls can act the way they want around Kiara, and get away with it.

Not once is Kiara herself ever allowed to know that the group suspected her by default, nor is she allowed to go through with her intention to leave court. The very roots of this scene are rotten.

Very often, when this scene in particular is addressed, not many people actually address Drake's behaviour here - or in the previous chapter. Stans will vaguely, and conveniently, blame the group as a whole rather than their favourites. Such a tactic allows them to never name the specific people or specific actions, and therefore the main people involved in speaking to Kiara the way they did never have to be held accountable. This is particularly relevant in the case of Drake.

It was Drake's idea to interrogate her. He was the one constantly harping about her "suspicious behaviour". He was the one aware of what happened to her yet chose to think of her as shady. He was the one who should have known better, yet was absolutely game to minimize her trauma or engage in emotional blackmail. And neither he nor the MC came out of this conversation feeling anything resembling remorse. Because, apparently, they never did anything wrong.

They got what they wanted. At best, Drake and the MC manipulated this woman (again) into returning to their court. At worst, they badgered and bullied her into that decision. Either way, she was going to return, and the narrative was going to pretend that the MC and Drake were great people for making it happen.

I have heard some justifications over the years for Drake's behaviour here. One is that he "tends to act like an asshole to everyone". Another is that Kiara is a noble so he was never going to see her in a positive light. Which is hilarious to me, honestly, because in the same book you have Drake reassure Penelope - the woman who had made the MC the target of a reputation-ending scandal - and comfort her when she sees Madeleine. If this was really about the chip on the shoulder he had for nobility, why was he so kind to Penelope? And if Penelope's mental health warranted a change in mindset and behaviour from Drake's end, why was Kiara not worthy of that as well?

The truth is this. Drake was allowed to express his mean streak to a black woman, bully a black woman (the pranks), lash out at a black woman (the conversation at the Lythikos Ball), suspect a black woman, and finally minimize her trauma if the Duchess he had a crush on wanted to. While being overly protective and chivalrous to the white woman who actually did harm her. No matter what way you spin it, that is what Drake's behaviour - especially in TRR3 - is.

The way the team trampled over this "pairing" post that miniscule hint in TRR3 Ch 7, would make a rampaging elephant look like a ballerina in comparison. They wanted to make it clear after the hiatus that Drake x Kiara would never happen, in any eventuality, in any future, in any universe. And no matter how much we pin this on "crazy stans" (who do hold some responsibility for sure, for their own veiled racism), it's a fact that the writing team was comfortable doing this. They had already found other ways to pile disrespect on their sole recurring black female character - what was a little more?

TRH and Beyond: Taking Away What Was Left of Kiara's Remaining Fanbase

Given all the narrative back-and-forth and shadiness, I'd have to say the end Kiara got in TRR3 was comparatively...decent. Not great...not exactly satisfying...decent.

Her fighting off the assassins at the boutique ("not again...not again!!") was the highlight of that scene. In Hana's playthrough, Kiara was her MOH by default, and the lines the MC could give if you chose her in other playthroughs was pretty sweet. At the end of the book, her father would make Kiara his heir, after her older brother Ezekiel abdicated. There were still things I was always going to hate (such as the fact that we could lie about "having Kiara's back" - we absolutely did not) about the aftermath, but all in all as a fan...I could maybe envision a fairly happy ending for her with what we got.

The next series, The Royal Heir, would debut on June 2019, almost a year after TRR3's own debut. This would be the first series that would go completely LI-divergent, spanning four books. It started out as an attempt to envision the future (and pasts) of the main characters, as well as tie loose ends...but descended into an incoherent, retconning mess with each book.

Kiara doesn't feature much in Book 1, but is pretty prominent in certain chapters like Ch 7 (Savannah's bachelorette), Savannah's wedding, and the Apple Ball in the finale. You'll often find a marked difference between the way she is looked at for most of the book, and how the MC speaks to her in TRH1's finale.

Savannah's bachelorette, for instance, features all the ladies of the court in Texas, with new "country" looks and engaging with Texan culture. Here, too, you see a sign of PB leaning into popular perceptions of Kiara rather than remembering their own writing, when we see how Savannah praises the MC by default but has very little to say about her former friend Kiara. Since Savannah's return to court in TRR3, the team seemed to have forgotten that other ladies of the court weren't very nice to her, and Kiara was the only one concerned for her. They have Olivia act sweet and caring towards Savannah in both TRR3 Ch 17 and TRH1 Ch 7, conveniently forgetting the insults she piled upon Drake's sister in the first book. Savannah never has to talk about Kiara's friendship at all, other than a teasing comment hinting at her French lessons. Savannah was never expected to have any gratitude or affection towards Kiara even though she was the only woman who cared about her in court before she left.

An interesting thing to note in the diamond scene of the bachelorette is the way the courtly ladies' previous/current "romances" are framed. Kiara's, in particular, warrants a lot of discussion. Unlike Olivia (who can address her feelings for Liam regardless of playthrough, if asked, and can actually show some level of resentment towards him for not picking her), Kiara's feelings are addressed only if the MC isn't married to Drake. If she is, Kiara mentions a fondness for "rugged, down-to-earth men" (which the MC and Penelope perceive to mean hunky and muscular), and avoids mentioning his name at all.

There are two very interesting things to note about this sequence. One is the pattern of how, and how far, are Olivia and Kiara are allowed to address their feelings for these men. Not only is Olivia allowed to be open about her feelings and her bitterness (despite Liam actually romancing her in TRR3!), the narrative demands our respect for her position and plight. The Liam MC lauds her honesty and her decision to move ahead, unfazed even by her anger for something Liam didn't even owe her. In contrast, in the Drake playthrough, the writing makes sure Kiara never mentions him by name. And not only that, when the MC and Penelope tease her about her romantic preference, she is shown to stammer and seems downright afraid of the MC.

The fact that there is such a gap in how Olivia and Kiara are allowed to act about the men they love, and the fact that this gap was normalized so much in fandom discourse that it didn't even warrant a discussion, tells us plenty about the fandom too. The fandom position has almost always been that Liam owes Olivia love, appreciation, kindness. And that Drake owes Kiara nothing, not even common human decency. Which is why the fandom wants Liam punished for the high crime of not loving Olivia back. Which is why Drake is allowed to treat Kiara like an irritating pest at his best, and like utter garbage at his worst...and almost no one so much as bats an eyelid.

Since most of the story of TRH1 seemed to revolve around the ranch, the ladies of the court made minimal appearances and most of those were in keeping with patterns established in TRR3 (except for maybe Olivia's spy scenes). Some of their parents - too - feature in Royal Council scenes: Godfrey and Landon are part of this council and are seen during the MC's announcement - no one from Kiara's family, besides her brother Ezekiel who is dating Penelope, make any appearances in this book. Towards the end of the book, however, you suddenly find a scene or two where the narrative is suddenly, and inexplicably, syrupy sweet to Kiara:

(Screenshots from the Skylia YouTube Channel. 1-5 are from Ch 18, during the council meeting. 7-10 are also from Ch 18, at the start of the ball. The last two are from the finale as buildup for the pregnancy photoshoot)

There are indications of Kiara's diplomacy and good advice in other parts of the book too (such as her suggestions for dealing with the foreign royals at the baby shower) but never were the praise and compliments as obvious as they were in the last two chapters of TRH1. Kiara was given a quippy dialogue to spout at Godfrey, who would later be revealed as the murderer of Queen Eleanor. All three of the MC's dialogue options in response would praise Kiara by default (a rarity). King Bradshaw would shower her with compliments too about her talent and expertise. And when Kiara approached us with an offer for a pregnancy photoshoot, the MC could cheerfully say "for you, Kiara? Of course!" as if they'd been bffs from the beginning.

There isn't any obvious reason why we saw this sudden change, but I can make an educated guess or two. A pattern that commonly emerges with attempts to address something that would benefit Kiara, is that the writers often only do it when enough people complain; that was how we got the horrible Lythikos sequence. Midway through TRH1, I managed to put up an essay exploring Kiara's treatment (centered around the Lythikos sequence in TRR3 Ch 12) in comparison to Penelope's and Madeleine's. It did not receive an immediate fandom wide response, but several readers did come away from that essay feeling like Kiara really got the short end of the stick, compared to all the other court ladies. I'm not sure whether that essay had a direct impact, but those three scenes PB added to the finale chapters do make me wonder. Was the team trying to prove to the fandom that they did like Kiara and wouldn't personally sabotage her, either for their own enjoyment or to pander to a section of the fandom?

If they did, then that plan didn't last beyond these two chapters.

Another possibility of course was to give Kiara something slightly positive before they did her dirty - again - in TRH2 and 3. Because in those two books, they managed to first make her - along with the rest of the council - party to a vote (that everyone was involved in, including the LIs!) that would later prove detrimental for the country. They would then have her be the only heir involved in the notorious Coventus Nobilis, which ensured that anyone who wanted to hate Kiara could tie her to her vote in favour of Bartie Sr, without ever asking any further questions. This was a far more successful attempt, because most of the fandom already believed the misconceptions of Kiara's characterization to be truth, and these storylines simply added fuel to the fire.

Kiara's biggest supporters tended to be a section of the Liam fandom, as well as wlw stans who tended to like most of the courtly women. Having her vote for Bartie at the end of TRH2, and her explanations in TRH3 about the "MC's ruling style" (which was really canon's way of making sure she did more a silent diss on Liam) was written specifically to place a serious dent among her fans who liked Liam. And sadly, it worked in part. Because even if one considered Kiara's thoughts on "reactive ruling" accurate, it was a fact that the nobility (she included) would have to be blaming Liam for something that the entire Council voted for, and that Liam and his friends fixed on their own.

Making Kiara the lone person to voice this argument, made her a target in this fandom. I mean, people were ready to praise Madeleine and speak of her as loyal (eagerly ignoring that she was actively involved in the child's kidnapping if you didn't coddle her enough), and badmouth Kiara in the same breath, claiming that Kiara wasn't worth forgiving and people should just get over Madeleine's deeds in the past.

This resurgence of hate didn't just erupt out of nowhere. Once they finished spending two chapters on two-second compliments to Kiara, PB reverted in the next two books to some of their usual patterns with her. For instance, remember how I mentioned that PB had an obsession with never letting Kiara and Liam interact? In TRH, they repeated this pattern, but with the Heir. The only scene Kiara has where she can so much as touch the heir is in the last part of TRH3, if you choose for Kiara to read to her. Penelope is regularly allowed to hold her even though she has often placed this child in dangerous situations (on one occasion, Kiara herself had to stop her) - even Madeleine is given an entire babysitting scene to win her favour. But Kiara is the only lady of the court who is made to stay away or care for the child from a distance.

Kiara's family (besides Zeke, and just because he is Penelope's fiance/husband) is subject to disrespect in this book too. Hakim and Joelle were both conspicuously absent from the pregnancy announcement presscon in TRH1 (where Landon, Godfrey and Bartie Sr somehow featured!!), and future books would either retcon the family or force them to do things the other families didn't have to do. In TRH2, the MC takes a tour of the Great Houses with her newborn daughter, and each house is expected to pledge loyalty to her and the crown in different ways. Hakim is written as "bending to his knees" for the child. This is something only Adeleide and Madeleine - whose house, might I remind you, are considered the house of traitors at this point - have to do. Landon and Emmeline are never expected to express their loyalty to this extent.

In TRH3, the narrative callously pushes the Therons under the bus to make the Ebrim family's reluctance to help the MC make sense - the Therons are now "traditionalists" who frown upon scandals and may not allow Zeke to marry Penelope on the account of her past annulled marriage (this makes no sense when you take a closer look at the Therons themselves in TRR3 - they're a far more balanced, far more progressive family than any of the other Great Houses. They even took Zeke's abdication well!). Furthermore, you'll notice that the framing of Penelope's past with Guy is worlds apart from the disdain the narrative shows for the Therons during the flower festival. It is notable that in the latter, the black women are depicted very negatively - Kiara is shown unable to manage her own competition, Joelle is depicted as pompous and incapable of losing gracefully, Drake gets to take sarcastic potshots at Lerato for trying to charm the MC into voting for her and Drake into convincing her to vote. Meanwhile white people like Landon and Marguerite are presented in a just as humourous but less mocking light (eg. Landon moving his table courteously before flipping it in the flashback).

Even into TRF (Ch12), the narrative gives us choices where we can stand up to people criticizing Landon and Emmeline's parenting ("Duke Landon and his wife raised a kind, generous daughter..."). We are allowed to be far less critical of the Ebrims overall, we are allowed to be more charitable even in the dialogue options for suspecting Landon than we are of Kiara (think of how Maxwell can suspect that Kiara was planning to betray us all along). At the end of the Flower Festival, Kiara is made to appear contrite as the MC can choose to either demand she make this right before the latter can forgive her, or indicate that she never will. Ironically, a Penelope who can choose her fancy wedding over the safety of the MC's child never has to face words that harsh.

You will also notice if you look more closely, that the narrative continues to frame events surrounding Penelope and Kiara in opposing ways. Penelope is perpetually viewed as a victim, and Kiara constantly as a suspect.

We are expected to support Penelope, and to mistrust Kiara. And even though Kiara's feelings had long since become a thing of the past, Drake still maintains his animosity towards her and her family. And like everything else, it is so normalized at this point that you barely even notice it anymore.

In TRH2, Drake is allowed to tar all nobles with the same brush because of Godfrey's actions. Though his statement about the nobility ("We can't trust any of them to have Liam's back...not unless it's in their own selfish interests") is about the entire nobility, it is striking that he says this just before they go to Castelserraillan. The Therons are also the only noble family that Drake makes sarcastic comments about (in reference to Liam informing us that their province is a trade hub, Drake quips that "they are going to want to trade babies with us"). These snide comments he rarely makes about other noble families, and serves as a sharp contrast to how he treats the Ebrims (during Penelope's wedding festivities, he is unnaturally invested in Penelope getting a happy ending with Ezekiel). We can't even claim that his behaviour towards Kiara is in line with his disdain for nobles, because Penelope is proof that he is perfectly capable of showing compassion to most of them!

TRH3 ends with Kiara doing an apology tour of sorts - diplomatic missions aimed at improving Cordonia's international relations. TRF finds almost all the ladies of the court - even Olivia - in very minimal roles, as the focus shifts to the Via Imperii. Still, the narrative makes more references to Penelope than to Kiara, to the extent that the epilogue ends on both the MC and Penelope celebrating their pregnancies (Penelope's first and the MC's second) together.

Overall, you will find that the narrative repeated certain patterns with Kiara - the tendency to find her suspicious, purposely limiting scenes with important characters like Liam (TRR) and the heir (TRH) while the white courtiers get almost unlimited access, the discrepancies in expectations for her vs other ladies (eg. Madeleine is hailed for being "good" even though that is solely dependent on how you treat her. Kiara is largely ignored whenever she does help, and attacked when she is written to support the enemy). Drake - even as a former alternative to her, who should have gotten over whatever nonsense beef he'd had with her earlier - is allowed to make snide remarks about her home and family.

It's pretty clear they could do this because they could get away with it... because most of the fandom made it so easy for them to get away with it.

Fandom

When I look back at how the perception of Kiara in the fandom progressed over the years, I find it half-amusing, half-sad how much of it is rooted more in fanlore, and how little in actual fact. And this is something you couldn't just pin on "crazy Drake stans" - they were the biggest promoters of these lies and misconceptions, sure, but normally analytical, commonsense readers often believed that Kiara was fake and a snob and awful to Penelope too.

I get some of it, given the timing of Kiara and Penelope's scene at the beginning of TRR2. It takes place at a low point in the MC's story, a time when she isn't even sure the LIs want to support her. Coupled with that is the lasting image of Penelope hugging you and complaining about Madeleine, making you feel like she's more willing to give you a sliver of solidarity. Coupled with that, is Olivia's newfound popularity in the fandom - once she emerges in Ch 5 of that book, fans believed they found their wildcard who would stand by them in complete solidarity among the ladies of the court (did they ignore Hana's already massive contributions to the investigation? Yes they did. Yes they did). Madeleine herself is shown giving quotable quotes about female solidarity and Tariq's guilt in TRR2 Ch 7, which - coupled with Justin's high praise of her - made people want to find things to like about her too. Penelope's own betrayal was overshadowed by an expectation to support a person with serious mental health struggles.

Kiara's the only one who doesn't get such backstories or explanations. So at least in the heat of the moment, in reading those chapters between weekly gaps, it makes sense that a false impression of her got somewhat solidified.

But when you build your interpretations out of lies and misinterpretations, how does it become so valid that even the writers bend to it and prefer to show that?

Every fandom has its "crazy stans". And this instance wouldn't be the first or last time they are pandered to. But when the same stans get backed up by the "saner", more commonsense members of fandom; when even neutral readers promote versions of a story without actually looking at the scenes in question - that's when a fandom is in danger of turning a "headcanon" into canon.

Kiara being a horrible friend to Penelope wasn't canon. Kiara being a snob was not canon. Kiara being creepy towards Drake wasn't canon either. Especially when you take the fandom response to Olivia's forced kiss on Liam into account.

And that brings me to another point. I had been asked once why I felt the need to compare Kiara to the other ladies in my defenses of her. It's important, when we speak of the kind of hate Kiara received, to understand how a lot of flaws that the entire court has (eg classism) is often pinned onto a lone person, and how several white female characters could get away with worse behaviour while Kiara alone was slammed for harmless interactions.

This is most apparent when you look at how Olivia's violation of Liam's consent is perceived, vs Kiara's harmless flirtation with Drake in TRR2. Which woman had fans foaming at the mouth and wanting to kill her? Which woman was given dozens and dozens of fanfic and content that depicted her as creepy, desperate, downright obsessed with their man? Which woman got the "oh well, he doesn't owe her anything 🤷🏽‍♀️" vs a "he doesn't love her back?? WHAT AN INSENSITIVE ASSHOLE!!1111"?

Perhaps this Olivia/Kiara comparison is where the fandom's tendency to cast Kiara into the Jezebel stereotype is the most visible. Kiara's very act of talking to Drake sometimes is registered as a threat to those stans, and it reflects in the way they speak of her, the way they speak of their MC's own relationship with Drake in association with her (eg. the number of posts rejoicing at the thought of showing off their "engaged to Drake" status at Kiara's estate), the way they're allowed to dehumanize her and villify her (eg. The edit I mentioned at the beginning). This is often encouraged by their friends who are fans of other characters, and you can see that in sharp contrast, Olivia - despite her actions in Book 1 and her resentment of Liam for not loving her back in other books - is still often viewed with sympathy and respect. Her feelings - still viewed as genuine, even pure. To the point where PB eventually allows Olivia to constantly address her feelings about the MC's and Liam's relationship, while forcing Kiara to not even utter Drake's name in his playthrough.

But you see this with other characters, and in other contexts too. Particularly how Madeleine can be duplicitous, hypocritical, and power-hungry, and it's Kiara who is called these things despite her actual honesty in canon. Madeleine can get away with actually helping Bartie Sr kidnap the MC's daughter in TRH3 without a murmur, in the same fandom where people can curse Kiara for voting for Bartie Sr "to take the child away" (despite her telling the MC and spouse that she was promised they would have custody of the child, therefore the claim that she "voted to take the child away from their parent" is inaccurate).

You saw some of these discrepancies in how Penelope and Kiara were spoken about too - Penelope's crime in TRR2 was considered easily forgiveable, while Kiara's innocence is constantly called into question. Kiara was often viewed negatively for what the fandom perceived as "meanness" to Penelope (when it was in fact Kiara worrying about how Penelope would fare when she wasn't around) while Penelope herself was never expected to be a good friend to Kiara. An interesting thing to note about the fandom response to Penelope and Kiara showed that often when posters wanted to hate on Penelope, she and Kiara would be clubbed together, almost as a unit. This was especially prevalent in TRH3. It was easy to express hatred for Kiara independently, but most posts that showed a dislike for Penelope (besides from specific Kiara stans) would often tie her with Kiara, as if there wasn't much to hate about her otherwise.

It is important to line up whatever hate Kiara gets with the responses to the other women - especially in the face of what the latter are allowed to get away with. In doing so, you get a better sense of what is allowed for a certain subset of women, and what isn't allowed or permitted for black women specifically.

Often, the fans who would not hesitate to call her alone fake, opportunistic and creepy were WOC, and there have been cases where some would use their identity as WOC to shield themselves from the criticism concerning their vitriol. It would often descend into "I don't hate her because she is black, I hate her because {insert inaccurate/false/convoluted justification here}". It didn't matter that much of this information wasn't based in fact, or had a heavy bias that they never applied to anyone else. It only mattered that because they were WOC, somehow that meant that they couldn't possibly be racist. That their unfounded hatred for Kiara had to be legitimate. As if there was no chance that someone who was WOC couldn't be antiblack too. I mean, the ultimate proof of this could be found in TRR itself - the two head writers of the TRR/H/F series' are Asian women - who have a pattern of liking mean (white) women, and who didn't mind throwing the black woman and her black family in their story repeatedly under the bus, who didn't mind minimizing and retconning the abuse and childhood trauma that the darker-skinned Asian woman in their story went through.

Overall, it is possible that the fandom did take some of their cues (for their impression of Kiara) from the inherent disdain found in canon itself. But many of them also misinterpreted several things about Kiara, then didn't bother to revisit those biases with a critical eye, or even try to see if they were wrong. And that baseless hatred fed the already-existing disdain that Kiara's own writers had towards her. Resulting in the kind of horrific, racist garbage that we got to see in TRR3, and the constant attempts in canon to pull her down in TRH.

Did Drake and Kiara Ever Have A Chance?

There have been various opinions - from both Kiara fans and haters - for why a Driara ship would never work. He hates nobles, she won't like his disdain for art and culture, he likes the simpler life, she's a snob...so on and so forth. Many people will agree it's not a great ship, but of course with differing opinions on why.

I, however, often wondered at possible scenarios where such a pairing could work. The magic of shipping is often that you can play around with personalities and pair almost anyone, and find enough reasons to explain why they would tick. And in Drake and Kiara's case, personally, I do feel like it's a complicated question to answer - primarily because I feel like the authorial intent at the beginning may have been very, very different to what finally happened in Drake's story.

A lot of Drake's early writing focused on the reasons behind his mistrust of the court and his tendency to view the people he loves who are part of it (eg. Liam and later the group) as anomalies. There are two ways you could take such a story in TRR2 - you could either get him to admit to the flaws in his own thinking (thereby providing a more nuanced insight) and allow him to grow from there, or you could just have him double down on his biases and never change beyond the superficial. The team of TRR - esp the head writers, Kara and Jen who were both v fond of him - definitely seemed to go in the latter direction.

Drake's prediction in Coney Island does indicate that he should let go of the past, and I honestly feel like the sequences where he learned about Maxwell straining House Beaumont's finances to help her, and Kiara and Savannah's friendship, could have been turning points for him if the writers weren't so obsessed with proving him right all the time - even when he was supposed to be wrong. Maxwell and Kiara, in their own ways, were proof that not every noble was the same, nor would every noble treat the commoners around them all the same way. However, the narrative trampled all over this possibility in TRR2 Ch 9, where Drake could optionally claim that the Beaumont brothers (among others) were "just looking out for themselves, no matter the consequences", or later when the narrative had Savannah be grateful to him for breaking her confidence to Bertrand, and have Maxwell try to earn his forgiveness in Ch 12 rather than the other way around. It allowed Drake to be selective about the nobles he admired or defended, while still free to treat certain others like garbage.

I could easily envision a Driara pairing for most of TRR2. I could even see it as potentially salvageable in certain parts of TRR3. But the moment they had Drake readily suspect her, the moment the team thought it would be okay for Drake to even suggest minimizing her trauma...that option was no longer worth seeing. Not for Drake, but for Kiara. Drake would have to be the worst possible guy I could find for her, in such a scenario.

But I could see potential in a storyline that had Drake understand that some of these people weren't the monsters he so desperately wanted them to be. In one where he could hear about Kiara's friendship with his sister, and learn about a whole new side of her. One where he maybe felt insecure ("I'm not her type") and could be reassured by a woman who had likely held a torch for him since they were teens/young adults. One where they could reach out to each other in their pain and trauma, and find solace. One where Drake knew that the family he may be marrying into would respect him, and his father too. There were possibilities there.

It would still take more work - his mean streak for one would need to be reduced by more than a half. A lot of it, of course, was kept for the Drake stans, but it really doesn't add much to Drake's character besides making him a mean-spirited, hypocritical bitch who only targets the lone black woman this way (and Olivia occasionally, if she goads him). If the narrative did want to keep a characterization where Drake acts weird around the girl he likes, they could - but that story would need a lot more work to be palatable.

All of this is to say that regardless of personal bias, there were possibilities there. There was a sliver of potential. And if they wanted to let go of that potential midway, they didn't have to go about that the way they finally did. They could have just worked on creating another love interest for her. They managed to create a brother for her overnight just so Penelope could have a boyfriend; they could have easily done the same for Kiara.

Multiple factors went down that explain why the Driara ship didn't take off. But many of them boil down to one specific root cause - the white women (whether they caused actual harm or not) needed to be protected, needed to be cherished. The black woman who dared to ask for the same things from their pet LI, would be viewed as a threat, a villain, a creep...just for breathing in his direction.

And her writers cared so little, that they took the fanon perception for her and stamped it onto their canon, like it was the truth.

They didn't do any of this for the woman who forced a kiss on a prominent LI. They didn't do this on the woman who betrayed the MC and set her up for assault. They didn't do this to the woman who bullied the lone female LI, and swore to continue doing so till she broke.

They did this for the one woman who was fairly innocent of most of these crimes, actually respected the LI and treated him well.

They did this because they could get away with it. Because they were confident that the fandom they wrote the story for, would let them get away with it. And tragically...they were right.

Resources I used to learn about the Jezebel stereotype:

The "Offending" Breast of Janet Jackson: Public Discourse Surrounding the Jackson/Timberlake Performance at Super Bowl XXXVIII by Dr Shannon Holland

Janet Jackson, Justin Timberlake, the Jezebel and white masculinity by Khadija Mbowe (I actually got the recommendation for the first paper from this video essay).

From Mammy to Jezebel: The Portrayal of Black Women in American Cinema from the BlackThen website

#kiara theron #anti drake walker #anti the royal romance #essay series: trr's alternative lis #long post

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karahalloway · 5 months

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(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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(Less Than) Noble Intentions only (let me know if you want to be added!)

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#harper gale #drake walker #the royal romance #less than noble intentions #king liam #maxwell beaumont #bertrand beaumont #olivia nevrakis #trr fanfic #cfwc fics of the week #choices fic writers creations #choicesmonthlychallenge #choicesjanuary2024 #Spotify

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cordonianroyalairlines · 4 months

Text

Staking a Claim

Series: Cordonian Royal Airlines

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Various

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Drake

Word Count: 2,340

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Language mostly

A/N: This is for the @choicesholidays Valentine's Day prompts: "Be my fake date for a wedding."

The hair color is wrong for my Riley, but this image was perfect!

The copilot twisted around in his seat one too many times, craning his neck as if searching the cabin for something, jostling the pilot in the process.

Liam grunted in consternation. “Drake!”

Drake spun back around, “What?”

“What is your malfunction?”

“What do you mean?” Drake blinked at him in confusion.

“What do you mean what do I mean?” Liam grunted, “We haven’t made it through the preflight checklist because you keep turning around to stare into the cabin! What the hell is so interesting out there?”

“Nothing!” Drake rolled his shoulders, stared blankly out the cockpit window for a moment then turned back to Liam, “Can you see the guy in 12B?”

“What?” Liam’s head swiveled around and then back. “No. Why?”

Drake’s bottom lip protruded as he shook his head. “No reason.”

Liam watched him skeptically. Drake had been visibly agitated since he’d reported for duty. “There has to be a reason.”

“I…he just….he looks a little squirrely. You know what I mean? Untrustworthy.”

Liam’s eyes widened in alarm. “Is he a threat? Do we need to alert security? Did you see a weapon?” He whipped his head around quickly to try and get a good view of the man in 12B. “I can’t see anything. Riley’s blocking my view.”

“Is she talking to him?” Drake’s entire body moved just as Liam turned back around. Their heads collided with a resounding thwack.

“Ow! Fuck!” Liam grabbed his forehead.

“Sorry, sorry!”

“Seriously man, tell me what’s going on right now. I’m calling security!” Liam reached for the microphone but just as he got it to his mouth, Drake slapped it out of his hands.

“No!”

Liam watched in astonishment as the microphone flew out of his grip and hit the window then bounced off the dash. “Are you on drugs right now? Do I need to get another copilot?”

Drake gaped at him. “Seriously? When have I ever done drugs?”

“I don’t know man, but you’re acting really fucking weird.”

Hana ducked her head in to ask, “Are we almost ready? A couple of the passengers are getting antsy.”

“Which ones?” Drake asked.

Hana’s brows pulled together for a moment then smoothed out as she chuckled. “Oh. You know Riley’s ex is out there, don’t you?”

“What?” Drake’s eyes shot to Liam then back to Hana as he denied it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

A relieved breath whooshed out of Liam. At least he now knew Drake wasn’t on drugs and there wasn’t a terrorist on board. He stifled a laugh. “Sure you don’t.”

“I don’t!” Drake glared at them both.

Hana giggled as she backed out of the cockpit.

They finished the checklist and got airborne, but Drake’s agitation quickly returned. “Do you think he’s better looking than me?”

“Who?”

“The guy! In 12B.”

“How would I know?”

“You’re bisexual, right? You can judge that kind of thing.”

Liam scoffed. “First of all, I haven’t laid eyes on the guy. Second of all, I thought you didn’t care.”

“No, I don’t! I mean….just objectively speaking, out of curiosity….I overheard Hana call him eye candy. He can’t be that good-looking, can he?”

“I dunno Drake, Riley is a ten, so I imagine her ex is no slouch in the looks department either.”

“Great.” Drake huffed as he spun around in his seat again.

“Oh, for the love of God, just go look!”

“I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Because then she’ll know I care!”

Liam cocked an eyebrow at him, “So you do care?”

“I mean she’ll think I care!”

“You’re really an idiot sometimes, you know that?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Of course you don’t.” Liam shook his head. “The only person you’re fooling is yourself. Put the rest of us out of our misery and just tell the girl that you like her already!”

“I’m not going out there.”

“Okay.”

Drake tapped his fingers on his knees for several seconds before jumping out of his seat. “I need to use the bathroom.”

“Sure you do.”

“I had a lot of coffee before we boarded.”

“Sure you did.”

“Fuck you. I’m going to take a piss.”

“Great. Tell Riley I said hi.”

Drake ignored him as he exited the cockpit and headed for the back of the plane where the restrooms were located. He slid his eyes sideways as he passed aisle 12 and scoffed to himself. The guy wasn’t that good-looking.

He was clean-shaven with a strong jawline, and raven hair swept back and gelled to perfection. Was that an Armani suit? How were his eyes that blue?

He slammed into the lavatory and locked the door to glare at himself in the highly polished silver surface of the mirror as he regarded his deep copper-colored eyes and messy, fly-away hair that barely saw a brush, much less hair gel. He ran a hand across the stubble dotting his jaw. It was a strong jawline, wasn’t it? Should he shave?

The guy in seat 12B looked like a CEO or something. Did she like that type? Drake was far more likely to be found in a tent than a boardroom. Did he even own a suit? He owned uniforms. Didn’t women like men in uniforms?

He made pretty good money as a first officer for Cordonian Royal Airlines.

Not CEO money.

“Fuck!” He spun and lashed out at the toilet. His foot connected to the stainless steel sending a sharp jolt of pain shooting up his leg.

There was a knock at the door. “Everything okay in there?”

Shit! It was Riley! “I’m fine. Dropped my…. Wallet…” Fuck, Walker! What the shit is wrong with you, man? Your wallet really?

“Are you sure because that didn’t sound like—”

“I said I’m fine!”

“Okay. Just let me know if—oh, excuse me what?”

From the other side of the door, a man’s voice murmured something he couldn’t make out then both people moved away.

Was that the ex talking to her? He forced himself to count to twenty so he didn’t just barrel out of the bathroom after them. He took several deep calming breaths like Max had tried to show him last time he had been upset about something. At least he thought it was what Max had done. At the time, he had mostly ignored him.

With an air of calm he most certainly did not feel, he exited the lavatory. His eyes went straight to seat 12B. Empty. He backtracked and ducked into the crew area.

Sure enough, there was Riley standing in the middle of the empty inflight catering kitchen talking to Mr. CEO.

All his jealousy evaporated in an instant as he took in her demeanor. Her arms were folded defensively across her chest and her face was furrowed into a frown. She was shaking her head as she leaned forward, her voice lowered but her entire body radiating her discomfort with the conversation.

The guy reached out and grabbed her arm.

She flinched away.

Oh hell no.

Drake didn’t remember moving but he was suddenly next to them, his hand wrapped firmly around the man's wrist. He flung the other man’s arm away from Riley and through gritted teeth asked, “Is there a problem here?”

The man gave him a startled look then annoyance flashed across his face. “We were just having a discussion.”

“Doesn’t look like the lady’s enjoying the conversation.”

“Mind your own business,” he shook his head dismissively and reached for her again, “Riley, if we could just talk privately—”

Drake intercepted the motion before he could touch her. “If you’re attached to that hand and wish to keep it, then I would strongly advise you against touching her again.”

He jerked his hand out of Drake’s grasp and rubbed his wrist. “Was that really necessary?”

Drake never took his eyes off the man as he leaned his body toward Riley, “Do you want to talk to this guy?”

“No.”

“But, Riley—”

“We have nothing to talk about, Nick!”

Drake angled his body so that he was blocking Riley from Nick’s view. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You heard her.”

Nick looked like he wanted to press the issue, but after taking in Drake’s stormy expression, thought better of it. He straightened his suit jacket with a sharp tug. “Fine. I’ll see you at the wedding. We’ll talk then.”

“You’re not coming to my sister’s wedding!”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? I’ll be there as Clarissa’s plus one.”

Riley shook her head back and forth. “Seriously? When we were dating, you couldn’t stand her!”

A gloating smile crept across his face. “Jealous?”

“Why would I be jealous?”

“Because you’re not over me, Riley. If you were, you’d have bothered to line up a date for the wedding.”

“I—”

“She has a date for the wedding.” Drake cut in as he casually slung his arm around her shoulders.

Nick turned his gaze to Drake for a long, evaluating moment. “Are you the new boyfriend then?”

“Yep. And I’m only going to ask you once to return to your seat. If you don’t stop harassing the flight crew, I will land this plane and have security escort you off of it.”

Nick’s eyes widened slightly as he huffed out, “You wouldn’t dare!”

Riley ran her hand down Drake’s arm as she smirked at Nick, “He would. He’s very protective when it comes to me. I wouldn’t test him if I were you.”

“Whatever,” Nick bumped Drake’s shoulder as he shoved past them and exited the kitchen.

Drake’s arm was still around Riley as he turned his head to watch Nick leave. “Let me know if he bothers you again and I’ll—”

Riley spun on him in fury, her fists raining blows on his chest. “What the fuck did you just do, Drake?”

His hand flew to his chest. “Ow! What the hell, Riley? I just rescued you from that guy!”

“I didn’t need rescuing, Drake. I can handle Nick. He’s an asshole, but he’s not a serial killer or something!”

Drake scoffed with a shake of his head, “I think the phrase you’re looking for is thank you.”

“Oh yeah? Really?”

“Yeah, really!”

“Do you know what you just did? Do you?”

“Um…got the asshole ex-boyfriend to leave you alone?”

“No, you fucking jackass.” She slapped his arm. “You just told him that you’re my boyfriend and my date to my sister’s wedding!”

“So?”

“So?” She threw her arms up in the air. “So when I show up at the wedding with no date and no boyfriend he’ll know that was a lie and I’ll be humiliated!”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…oh!”

They stood in silence for a long moment, Drake rubbing his chest and Riley fuming. Then Drake quietly said, “I’ll go to the wedding with you.”

“What?”

“I mean….if you want me to.”

“I…”

“I did get you into this situation. Let me make it up to you by getting you out of it. One fake boyfriend slash date for sister’s wedding coming right up!”

All the fight went out of her as she took in the hopeful smile on his face. “I can’t ask you to do that, Drake.”

“Why not?”

“Because the wedding is on Valentine’s Day and I’m sure you already have plans. I can’t ask you to cancel—”

“Pfffftttt.” He waved a hand dismissively in the air. “I do not have plans for Valentine’s Day!”

“You don’t?”

Did she sound hopeful?

“No, I do not. No girlfriend, no friend with benefits, no romantic entanglements at all.”

Except with you.

A delighted smile broke out across her face. “Okay, then.”

“So, we’re good?”

She gave him a flirtatious smile as she flipped her hair and turned to leave. “We’re good.”

“Okay, good.”

He watched her walk away with a contented smile on his lips then followed her out of the kitchen and back to the front of the plane. He glowered at Nick as he passed aisle 12.

Nick returned the glare as he adjusted his headphones and slid down in the seat.

When he stepped onto the flight deck Liam greeted him with smug satisfaction. “That was the longest piss in the world.”

“Shut up.” He slid into the copilot seat without looking at his best friend.

“So how’d it go? Did you get a good look at her ex?”

“Um….yeah… he’s a pushy bastard. I had to tell him to keep his hands to himself and….”

“And?”

Drake released a long-suffering sigh knowing Liam was going to find out sooner or later. Riley would tell Max and Max would tell everyone else. “I’m going as her date to her sister’s wedding.”

“Wow! That’s quite a jump from ‘I don’t like her like that’.” Liam chortled gleefully.

Drake kept quiet but his foot started tapping nervously.

“Oh, shit, there’s more! What is it?” Liam prodded.

“Ah…”

“Don’t make me call Max and find out.”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Come on, what else?”

“It’s on Valentine’s Day,” he answered with a resigned sigh.

Liam practically danced out of his seat. “This is amazing! This is epic! Mr. I will never take a woman out on Valentine’s Day because that’s far too much pressure and it’s all about commercialization anyway is taking a woman out on Valentine’s Day. To her sister’s wedding!”

“Why does this make you so happy?”

“Because I get to say I told you so forever!”

“It’s not even a real date.”

“Sure it’s not.”

“It’s not!”

“Does she know that?”

“Yes! I just said I was her boyfriend so that Nick guy would stop—”

“Wait! Wait! You played the pretend boyfriend card to back off her ex?”

“Yeah…so?”

Liam threw his head back and belly laughed. “You are such a goner!”

Drake pressed his lips into a tight line and returned his attention to the control panel. He wanted to argue, he really did. But he couldn’t.

He was absolutely a goner.

And he was going to have to buy a suit.

Shit.

#cordonianroyalairlines #trr au #the royal romance #drake walker #drake x mc #cfwc fics of the week #choices fic writers creations #choicesholidays #liam rys

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kristinamae093 · 3 months

Text

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.

#the royal romance #choices the royal romance #king liam #trr au #liam rys #trr #choices trr #choices #ghosted #cfwc fics of the week #choices fanfiction #choices fanfic #choices fic writers creations #prince liam #drake walker #olivia nevrakis #leo rys #mature

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tessa-liam · 25 days

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Marabelle Series

Long Live the King - Chapter 12-

Choices – The Royal Romance, AU – (cross-over with Rules of Engagement)

Series Premise – An American teenager from New York City is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobility, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret?

Marabelle Series Masterlist

My Complete Masterlist

Main Pairing – Crown Prince Liam Rys x F!OC Lady Sophia (Sophie) Taylor

Other Pairings – Maxwell Beaumont x M!OC Daniel (from NYC), Drake Walker x F!OC Melanie Smithson

Most characters belong to Pixelberry Studios

Series Rating – M*🔞Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, drinking, crude language & innuendo.

Not Beta’d - Please excuse all errors.

Category – Alternate universe/on-going series/angst/fluff/cross-over with Choices Rules of Engagement

Words: 3480

Long Live the King – Chapter 12

Chapter Summary – Leo confides his reasons why he has decided to abdicate the throne to Liam, as Madeleine is notified by King Constantine that she is no longer the queen-in-waiting.

Music Inspiration: I Get to Love You, Ruelle

A/N1: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the U.S. and is Barthelemy Beaumont’s second wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) is Bertrand’s mother.

A/N2: ‘Social Season’ in this AU series refers to a traditional period in the spring/summer for royalty and members of the court to take part in Balls, dinner parties and charity events.

A/N3: Thank you to @peonierose for your ask/quote prompt, “He looks at her like he just realized what love is.”

Monterisso

Inside the dimly lit speakeasy nestled in the small island country of Monterisso, the atmosphere was both vibrant and clandestine. The air was filled with the tang of citrus from freshly squeezed lemons, mingling with the rich aroma of aged wines and the faint scent of tobacco from elegantly smoked cigars. Soft jazz music played in the background, creating a sultry ambiance that enveloped the patrons in an air of secrecy and luxury.

Amidst the plush velvet couches and ornate decor, Leo sat with his brother in a secluded corner of the speakeasy. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across their faces as Leo took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead.

Liam was already quite sure and prepared for what his brother was going to announce that evening. In talking with their father shortly after the charity polo match had ended, he learned about his brother’s contemplations and desire to abdicate the throne. The surprise being, for Liam, that his father confessed to him that he was relieved about Leo’s decision.

"Liam," Leo began slowly, his voice low and filled with gravity. "There's something I need to tell you." He paused, sitting back in his chair as the buxom server deposited a bottle of top shelf scotch complete with Glencairn crystal tumblers on the table in front of them.

Liam looked up at the woman, and cordially thanked her before returning his attention back to his brother.

They sat in silence for a moment, each enjoying their scotch. The only sounds were coming from the smooth and mellow tones of a saxophone from across the room.

Letting out his breath slowly, his eyes were fixed on the flickering candle at the center of the table.

"I've made a decision," Leo started, his words measured. "I have decided that ... that I am abdicating the throne." He looked warily at Liam, not knowing what his reaction would be. Considering the news will profoundly affect his brother’s future trajectory, it could possibly go sideways.

Liam looked down, nodding his head. His features reflected a mix of concern and disbelief upon hearing the words coming out of his brother’s mouth, even though his announcement was expected and forewarned by their father.

"Abdicate? Leo, why? You've always been committed to your duties as the crown prince." Turning to him, Liam questioned further, in a hushed tone, “why now ... what has changed?”

Leo leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper now, mindful of the ears that may be listening in the secretive ambiance of the speakeasy. "I know it's abrupt, Li, for you. I have been thinking about this for a while now. I cannot ignore my heart any longer. I want a life of my own choosing, not one dictated solely by duty and tradition."

Liam took a moment to process his brother's words, the weight of the decision settling between them the unspoken truth that both men already knew. "I understand, Leo," he finally responds after a moment, his voice filled with compassion. "Your happiness matters more than anything else to you. I know that you want your freedom.”

As the jazz music continued to weave its melodies around them, Leo and Liam sat in quiet contemplation, they were united in their bond as brothers, even as their individual paths ahead were destined to diverge into uncharted territory.

“But Liam.” Leo began, moving in closer and watching his brother’s reaction and facial cues. “I already knew and accepted the fact that you were the one destined to take the crown many years ago. Not me.”

Liam raised his eyebrows in confusion but remained silent to allow Leo to continue.

“Remember that time in Athens, Liam? I was 21 and you had just turned legal? I was showing you around town?”

Liam sighed, chuckling, “Ah, yes ... that was the royal visit when you picked up that woman! Father was so pissed when Bastien found you at that hotel after the diplomatic summit!”

The broad smile on Leo’s face, with his booming laugh rattled throughout the room. “Yes, yes ... it was quite the eventful trip.” Leo smirked, shaking his head.

“But seriously, Li, it was on that trip when I realized you would make the better king.”

“Oh, come on, Leo. You had your doubts, but you were always the natural born leader.”

“No, Liam. It’s so much more than that. That incident with Bradshaw and Isabella Achillies at the party on the Auvernal yacht. You handled it with such grace and diplomacy.”

‘...The deck was filled with diplomats mingling and drinking. Leo and Liam each grabbed a glass of ouzo from a passing waiter. When the sun started to set, Leo and Liam rose to leave the yacht to return to the summit being held at an uptown venue.

“Prince Leo, are you ashamed?” Bradshaw taunted as he also rose, noticing the Rys brothers leaving his yacht.

Leo stopped and turned around to glare at Bradshaw for that comment. All eyes were now focused on the king’s raised voice.

“Your schoolboy brother is afraid of being tardy.” Bradshaw ridiculed.

“Insult my brother again, and you're going over that railing, Bradshaw.”

“Come on, Leo.” Isabella chided. “Stay and have another drink.”

“I guess Cordonia is too weak a nation to do as it pleases.” Bradshaw turned, to grandstand in front of everyone on the yacht. "As evidenced by Prince Leo and his tedious little brother.”

Leo swiftly stepped up to approach him, as Bradshaw quickly retreated.

“You can call me a coward all you want ... but don't you dare” ... Leo seethed and stopped mid-sentence with clenched fists when Liam placed a hand on his shoulder. Knowing that Leo was losing his head and was about to blow up in front of everyone, Liam came forward, as cool headed as ever.

“King Bradshaw, our kingdom honors and respects its neighbors, even those who do not deserve it.

Cordonia’s strength is in our integrity.”

Liam paused and moved forward to stand directly in front of Queen Isabella.

“To answer the summit's call is not about being or acting like a coward. It is about acting like a king.”

Bradshaw stayed silent with a reddened face.

Isabella was also silent, clearly embarrassed as their guests stopped their conversations to witness the altercation.

“Please enjoy the rest of the party while Cordonia helps to shape international policy.”’

...Pausing, Leo threw back his scotch; quickly refilling his tumbler as well as Liam’s...

‘Bradshaw and Isabella's jaws were on the floor. It actually embarrassed them enough that everyone else felt uncomfortable and left, abruptly ending the party.

As Leo and Liam strolled back to the summit, Leo stopped.

“Hey, can I just say that it was an impressive move back there. It takes tact and cunning to lie in a bed of snakes and avoid a bite.”

Liam responded, “you would have done the same if I hadn't interrupted.”

“Huh. Yeah. No. No, I wouldn't have, honestly. You made Cordonia look good back there. You were born for this world. Cordonia is lucky to have you.”’

“That was the moment when I realized that you were so much more suitable to wear the crown, rather than me. The things that got me excited for those summits was the chance to meet people, to meet new women, outside of Cordonia. For you, it was negotiations, networking and diplomacy.”

“Ah, that.” Liam shook his head. “It wasn't my finest moment, but I had to step in.”

“You diffused the situation brilliantly. Liam. Your words about Cordonia's integrity and strength... that is what a true king embodies.”

“I was just trying to keep the peace and uphold our principles.”

“You did more than that, Liam. You showed me and everyone else on that yacht what it means to lead with honor and wisdom. It told me that she was in your heart. Cordonia needs someone like you to wear the crown after father.”

Leo put his hand on Liam's shoulder. “It hit me, at that moment ... that you would make a way better king. Much better than I ever could be. It said that you have faith in this country before anyone or anything else. Liam, you are the king Cordonia needs and deserves.”

Liam breathed out slowly; a myriad of thoughts swirling in his head.

Leo refilled their glasses with amber liquid.

“And I trust you to lead Cordonia into a bright future, Liam.” Leo raised his glass to propose a toast. “And you know what? Cordonia is lucky to have you as its future king.”

“To Liam Rys. Long live the King.”

The Beaumont Estate

Sophie stepped into her bedroom, her mind reeling from the events of the day. The charity polo match had been a success, but the victory was bittersweet. The encounter with Neville had left her feeling shaken, confused and vulnerable.

As she changed out of her clothes to slip into her pajamas, her thoughts returned to the moment when Neville had pushed her. The look of hatred and disdain on his face was burned into her memory. What had she ever done to deserve his cruel treatment?

She sank onto the edge of the bed, tears stinging her eyes. Her shoulder was throbbing from the fall and her knee ached from hitting the hard ground. The day had been an emotional roller coaster, and she was mentally and physically exhausted.

Sophie picked up her phone, hesitating. She knew Liam was busy with his brother, and she did not want to disturb him. But she wanted him; she needed to see him; to feel the warmth of his embrace and to hear his reassuring words. She placed her phone back on her nightstand and laid her head down on the pillow.

As the night wore on, Sophie found herself drifting in and out of sleep, her thoughts consumed by the day's events.

Sitting around the firepit on the grounds outside the estate, Maxwell and Daniel shared a bottle of wine, the night sky a blanket of darkness overhead. They laughed and chatted, the warmth of the fire keeping them comfortable in the cool evening air.

"It's nights like this that I love," Daniel said, his eyes shining as he looked up at the stars.

When Maxwell didn’t respond, Daniel looked over at his partner.

“Maxwell? Earth to Maxwell... you seem like you are a thousand miles away."

"Oh, sorry, I'm just a bit tired," Maxwell apologized.

"Is everything okay? You've seemed distracted tonight?" Daniel asked, a look of concern on his face.

"Yeah, it's just..." Maxwell trailed off, his expression uncertain. "It's Sophie. She's been through a lot lately, and I'm worried about her."

"Oh, the polo match?"

Maxwell went silent as Drake plopped down in a lounger beside them. “Sorry, I’m late.” Drake took a long pull from his bottle of beer.

“Hey Drake, glad you could make it tonight. But hey, where did Melanie go? I thought she was coming?”

Drake scoffed, “yeah, she decided to go home.” Maxwell raised an eyebrow.

“She was in a mood, so I asked her ‘what’s up’, and she tore a strip off me. Drawing another pull, Drake, clearly annoyed with his girlfriend, “I am in no mood for aggro tonight, so I drove her home.”

"Hey, where's Taylor? I know she is not with Liam tonight." Drake looked around the grounds.

"She is in her room. She wasn't feeling Daniel answered.

"So, Maxwell," Drake looked quizzically at him ... you were telling me that you were worried about Taylor? What's up?"

Monterisso

“I have met someone." Leo took a moment, the flickering candlelight reflecting in his eyes as he gathered his thoughts. "Katie," he begins, "she's not Madeleine. Meeting her on that cruise was like stumbling upon a new adventure, a chance to explore life beyond the confines of royalty."

Liam listened intently, a flicker of curiosity dancing in his eyes. "Tell me more about her," he prompted, sensing the significance of this encounter for Leo.

"She's... different," Leo mused, a soft smile tugged at his lips. "Katie is spirited, full of life and has a thirst for adventure. With her, I feel like I can be myself, and not be the crown prince, burdened by expectations."

"I realize that you already knew about my decision before tonight," Leo said after a while, breaking the quietude. "I wanted to apologize for not telling you sooner, for not confiding in you."

Liam shook his head, a reassuring smile on his face. "There's no need to apologize, Leo. I understand why you made this choice, and I support you wholeheartedly." Liam never held back with his opinions for Leo’s betrothed.

Leo let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, a weight clearly lifted from his shoulders. "Thank you, Li. Your support means everything to me.

Liam nods, his understanding dawned in his expression. "It sounds like Katie has brought a breath of fresh air into your world."

"She has," Leo confirmed, gratitude coloring his tone. "Being with her these past three weeks has made me realize that there's more to life than the crown, more to discover beyond the palace walls."

Liam reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Leo's shoulder. "I'm glad you found this, Leo. Everyone deserves to find their own happiness, even if it means taking a different path that was originally planned for them."

Leo nodded in agreement, a sense of resolve settling within him. "Thank you, Liam. Your support means everything to me."

As they sat in the intimate corner of the speakeasy, surrounded by the whispers of jazz and the allure of hidden conversations, Leo and Liam watched as a jazz singer took to the stage and began to sing.

"You know, Liam," Leo started, his voice carrying a note of contemplation, "with Sophie by your side, you could start thinking about the future. About heirs to the throne and building a family."

Liam's expression softened at the mention of Sophie, his eyes reflecting a mix of love and longing. "I've thought about it," he admits, his voice filled with quiet determination. "Sophie and I have talked about our dreams, about the possibility of a future together."

Leo nodded in agreement, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "She would make an incredible queen, Li. Her grace, her kindness, and her love for you are evident to everyone."

"I agree," Liam responds, a warm smile of affection coloring his features. "And I couldn't imagine a better partner to share the responsibilities of ruling Cordonia and raising our children."

"You know, Liam," Leo began, his voice carrying a note of contemplation, "with your betrothal to Sophie there would be no need for a social season.”

Liam was taken aback by the suggestion. "Leo, you sound like father."

"Well, Father has a point. If you are going to rule, you need to secure the throne for the next generation. The need for a queen is paramount."

“That was before you abdicated, now, everything has changed. And, well, we are not engaged; not yet."

"Well, maybe it's time you fixed that,” Leo looked meaningly at Liam. ‘Sophie is a perfect fit for you."

"I appreciate your support, Leo. But it's not that simple."

"Why not? From what I can see, you two are clearly in love. She comes from a noble house and has been accepted at court. Father and Regina think very highly of her."

“Marrying me now comes with a lot of baggage. There's the political side of things, the court politics, and the pressure to produce an heir."

"But that's all manageable, isn't it? Liam?”

"Maybe. But Sophie is still new to all of this. I do not want to overwhelm her. We've had a whirlwind romance, and I don't want her to feel rushed or pressured."

"I understand. But Liam, the longer you wait, the more you risk losing her."

Liam understood too; all too well. According to Cordonian law at the time of a coronation, he must be betrothed.

Cordonian Royal Palace

The following day, Madeleine sat in the opulent sitting room of the royal palace. Her fingers nervously traced the intricate patterns of the embroidered cushion beneath her. She had been summoned by King Constantine, and the weight of anticipation hung heavy in the air.

As the throne room doors opened, King Constantine entered the sitting room, his expression somber yet composed. Beside him Liam also entered, his face a mask of conflicting emotions.

"Madeleine," King Constantine acknowledged, his voice carrying the weight of the impending revelation. "There's something we need to discuss."

Madeleine's heart skipped a beat, a sense of foreboding settling over her like a dark cloud. "Of course, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice steady despite the rising unease within her.

Taking a seat opposite her, King Constantine fixed his gaze on Madeleine. "It concerns Leo," he continued, his tone measured. "He has made a decision regarding the throne."

The mention of Leo's name caused a flurry of emotions to surge within Madeleine—hope, fear, and uncertainty mingling in her thoughts. "What decision?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Liam stepped forward; his expression filled with empathy. "Leo has chosen to abdicate the throne," he revealed, his expression stoic.

Madeleine's heart seemed to stop as the reality of the words sank in. Abdication meant that her dreams of becoming queen, of standing by Leo's side as his consort, were shattered.

"I... I do not understand, why," Madeleine stammered, her mind racing to grasp the enormity of the news. "Why would he abdicate? What about our plans?"

King Constantine sighed, his eyes reflecting a mixture of sympathy and regret. "Leo has found his own path, Madeleine," he explained stoically. "He believes it's time for a new chapter in his life, one that doesn't include the responsibilities of the crown."

Tears welled up in Madeleine's eyes, her dreams crumbling around her like a fragile illusion. "But... but I thought..." Her voice trailed off, unable to articulate the turmoil raging within her.

Liam reached out, offering a handkerchief as her tears began.

"I know this is difficult, Madeleine," he said softly. "But Leo's decision is his own, and we must respect it."

As the reality of Leo's abdication sank in, Madeleine felt a mix of sadness and resignation wash over her. The future she had envisioned, the life she had planned, seemed to slip through her fingers like grains of sand.

"I understand," Madeleine replied, her voice steadier now, masking the pain that threatened to consume her. "I will accept Leo's decision and wish him well in his new path."

King Constantine nodded, a sense of finality settling over the conversation. "Thank you, Madeleine. Your grace and understanding in this matter are appreciated."

As Madeleine composed herself and prepared to leave the sitting room, the sense of loss weighed heavily on her heart. The dream of being queen was no more, replaced by a stark reality she had not expected.

With a heavy heart, Madeleine left the royal palace, her thoughts and mood now turning into anger. Consumed by thoughts of what could have been and her uncertain future that lay ahead.

House Beaumont

In the morning, Sophie woke to a text from Liam.

'Sorry I missed you last night. I'll be over later today.'

Sophie's heart pounded, her fingers trembling as she replied, 'I'll be here.'

It was a simple message, but it spoke volumes. She had missed him, and she couldn't wait for him to return.

She had never felt this way about anyone before, and it scared her. She knew that being with Liam was worth the risk. thinking to herself that she would do whatever it took to make their relationship work, no matter what obstacles stood in their way.

Thanks for reading; please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from this series.

📌@bascmve01 @busywoman @kristinamae093 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @kingliam2019 @ao719 @alj4890 @emkay512 @karahalloway @twinkleallnight @malblk21 @tinkie1973 @queenmiarys @txemrn @emersyn-in-cordonia @dutifullynuttywitch @charlotteg234 @lovingchoices14

📌@choicesficwriterscreations

#marabelle #tessa liam writes #the royal romance #liam rys #trr fanfic #trr #choices fic writers creations #sophie taylor #crown prince Liam Rys #choices #maxwell beaumont #drake walker #daniel trr

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playchoicesconfessions · 10 months

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Sent by anonymous

‘The romance routes in Guinevere remind me of a lot of The Royal Romance. King Arthur = Liam. Lancelot = Drake, if he had a job.’

POST/CONFESSIONS DO NOT REFLECT THE MOD’S PERSONAL OPINIONS!

#choices guinevere #guinevere #choices the royal romance #the royal romance #choices trr #trr #king liam #liam rys #drake walker #king arthur #lancelot du lac #playchoices #choices #choices stories you play #confessions #mod bruffle

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lawsend · 20 days

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Murder at Vista Heights Chapter 6

Series: Law’s End

Episode 1: Murder at Vista Heights

Fandom: The Royal Romance (loosely, there’s not much canon in here).

Pairings: None yet

Word Count: 2,500

Rating: MA

A/N: This counts as @karahalloway ask from my 1500 followers celebration post on my main account @angelasscribbles.

Warnings for series: adult themes, any given chapter may contain murder, violence, language, drinking, drug use, etc.

My other stuff can be found on my main blog @angelasscribbles here is the Master List.

The homicide division of the seventh precinct had been plunged into chaos. All three interrogation rooms were in use, leaving a person of interest cooling his heels in the waiting area.

Riley was trying to get comments from anyone that would talk to her. Max had narrowly evaded being tossed out of the station when he had attempted to get photos of William Sloan as he was brought in for questioning.

The mayor was livid at being called late in the evening by one of her biggest campaign contributors. “I don’t care what fucking time it is or how many hours you already worked today!” Madeleine was yelling at a lithe redhead with her hair pinned immaculately in place despite her protestations over the lateness of the hour.

Olivia Nevrakis narrowed her eyes at her boss. “And I don’t care how much money Sloan Enterprises has donated to your re-election campaign. If he’s a suspect, he has to be questioned, just like everyone else!”

“William Sloan most certainly did not murder Trent Hayes! Are you out of your mind?”

Olivia doubled down. “If there wasn’t some reason to suspect him, Liam wouldn’t have brought him in for questioning!”

While the mayor and the DA were having their showdown, Drake Walker was pacing the floor, waiting for his turn in interrogation.

He was a person of interest. Presumably, because someone had ratted him out to the police about his business relationship with William Sloan. His eyes scoured the open office area until he spotted her.

Riley saw him coming and made a strategic exit to the woman’s room. She almost ran over the sketch artist from earlier. “Oof! Sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Lillith assured her. “Who are you hiding from?”

“What makes you think I’m hiding from anyone?”

“I recognize the panic.”

“Wait. Who are you hiding from?”

“My sister.”

Riley’s brain spun to catch up. Then realization washed over her. She should have made the connection before. Nevrakis was not a common name. “The DA is your sister?”

Lilith flinched a little. “Half-sister. She hates me.”

“Why?”

Lilith shrugged. “Something about my whore of a mother breaking her mother’s heart.”

“Oh….” Riley was rarely struck speechless, but she had no idea how to respond to that.

“Sorry!” Lilith dropped her face into her hands. “That was TMI and now I’ve made things awkward!”

“No, no, you’re fine!” Riley assured her. “Trust me. As a reporter, I’ve heard every damn thing. That’s not even in the top ten for most awkward.”

Lilith smiled wanly. “I’d like to hear that top ten list then.”

“Sure. We should get drinks sometime.”

“Really?” The sketch artist searched her face to see if she was joking.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Okay, yeah, I’d like that.” This time, the smile was bigger, brighter. Lilith didn’t have a lot of friends, tended to be socially awkward, and was used to being somewhat of a pariah in certain upper society circles because of her status as the bastard child of an extramarital affair.

Riley eased the door open to peer through the crack. “Unless you have any information about the case you’re willing to give me, I need to get back out there.”

Meanwhile, in Interrogation Room One…

“I get it.” Flynn eyed the man sitting across the table from him. “Beautiful woman. Rich, powerful husband. You don’t want to get sidewise with him, so when Trent started blackmailing her, threatening her—”

“I told you I know nothing about that!” Dean yanked on the chains holding him to the table, making the hard metal slam against the wood with a satisfying clang.

“You didn’t know he was blackmailing her?”

“No!”

“Did you know he found out about the affair?”

“No!”

“So, you don’t deny the affair?”

“What?” Dean looked up at him with a defeated expression. “No.”

“Okay, good. We’re getting somewhere. So, you were sleeping with her and—”

“I love her!”

“Okay, okay.” Flynn held his hands up in surrender. “You’re in love. And this man threatened her—”

Dean heaved a sigh and slumped back in his seat. “How many times do I have to tell you that I knew nothing about that?”

Interrogation Room Two….

“Here you go, buddy.” Liam sat a bottle of ice-cold water on the table and slid it across to the CEO of Sloan Enterprises. “Sorry about all this. But we have evidence your wife is having an affair and was being blackmailed by the victim. You understand how that gives you motive, right?”

William fixed the detective with a steely glare, remaining silent.

“So, how did it go down? She missed a payment? He called you up and told you? When confronted with proof of the affair, you snapped, shot the messenger so to speak? It’s understandable. Heat of the moment. The sooner you tell me what happened, the sooner I can help you.”

William leaned forward and pushed the water bottle back across the table. “I want my lawyer. Now!”

Interrogation Room Three….

Bertrand stood in the doorway of the room in his somehow perfectly pressed suit and tapped a file folder against the palm of his other hand as he regarded the woman in front of him. “Did you do it yourself, or did you have someone else shoot him? Leo Rys, maybe?”

Katie sniffed as she lifted an imperious gaze to the man across from her. “I had nothing to do with Trent’s death, but I would certainly like to thank whoever did. He was the worst kind of pond scum, and he won’t be missed.”

“Not exactly the type of sentiments that will exonerate you, Mrs. Sloan.”

She gave him a coy smile. “Please. Call me Katie.”

Bertrand’s dour expression never changed. “I don’t think you grasp the gravity of the situation, Mrs. Sloan.”

A mirthful laugh bubbled out of her. “I’m not worried because I didn’t do it.”

“Who else had more of a motive than you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you talk to that psycho he cheated on me with?” Her face lit up with clear hatred.

Bertrand languidly raised an eyebrow. “And that would be?”

“Sabrina Simmons!”

“Are they still an item?”

“If they are, he’s cheating on her, I guarantee it, and you know what they say about a woman scorned. Besides, she has a history of stalking behavior. She’s fucking crazy!”

Bertrand made a noncommittal sound in his throat as he jotted the name down on his notepad.

Back in the main office area…

Riley was trying to sweet talk a crime scene investigator when Drake caught up with her. “Rashad. That’s a beautiful name.”

“Thanks.” Even with his dark complexion, the blush that spread across his features was noticeable.

“There you are!” Drake’s voice boomed out as he grasped her upper arm firmly and pulled her away from Rashad. “I think we’re overdue for a conversation.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what—”

Rashad was suddenly serious. “Hey! Is everything okay?”

Riley’s eyes darted back and forth between the two men, noting the tension in both sets of shoulders. Diffusing the situation was preferable to escalating it, so she smiled sweetly at Rashad. “It’s fine. He’s right. We have a previous…. agreement we need to discuss.”

“Oh.” The other man looked disappointed, but excused himself with a regretful glance back at the reporter.

“Did you rat me out to the cops, Riley?” Drake asked as he pulled her to the side of the room for a private conversation.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then why have I been brought in for questioning? Why is my client in an interrogation room right now?”

“Your client is in an interrogation room because his wife got busted with her lover tonight by the lead detective on the case.” Riley pulled her arm out of his grasp, but moved her body closer to his. “As for figuring out he hired you as a PI, I’m assuming that was their own detective work because I did not rat you out!”

He wanted to believe her. All CCPD had to do to find him was to run Sloan’s financials. Or Max’s. “Hm. Why do I have a feeling you’re going to be a giant pain in my ass? Tell me this, who pointed them in the Sloan’s direction in the first place?”

“A private citizen who witnessed—”

Drake’s lips pressed into a thin line as he shook his head. “Maxwell Beaumont was not a private citizen when he took those photographs!”

A scathing voice cut through their conversation. “Did she sleep with you for information, too?”

They both turned to find Liam approaching, with Max hot on his heels.

Drake took a step back in confusion. “What? We haven’t slept together!”

“Yet,” Max mumbled under his breath. His eyes widened when he realized Liam might have heard him. He cleared his throat and began to fiddle with his camera, pretending to ignore the conversation.

Riley shot a murderous expression at Liam. “For the last time, Liam, that’s not what happened!”

Drake blinked as he processed the insinuation. Moving his attention back to Riley, he asked, “You slept with him for information?”

“No, I did not.” She replied through gritted teeth.

“Come on, Walker.” Liam gestured toward the interrogation room. “We need to have a discussion about what services you provided for William Sloan.”

Drake turned his head to watch Riley over his shoulder as he followed the detective, mumbling the whole time about client privacy.

As Liam and Drake walked down the hall toward the interrogation rooms, they passed William Sloan and his lawyer, Sadie McGraw, on their way out.

The moment Madeleine saw William and Sadie, she scurried after them, apologizing profusely for the misunderstanding.

Bertrand and Flynn walked into the open office area deep in conversation, comparing notes about their respective interrogations. Olivia approached them before they could make it to Bertrand’s office, a dark haired young man trailing behind her. She wasted no time demanding answers about the investigation.

Bertrand ushered everyone into his office, where the DA was given all the latest updates on the case.

When the detectives were finished talking, Olivia nodded her head. “Between Trent’s bank account showing deposits from Katie and Dean’s confession of the affair, I think Kiara will sign off on a search warrant for the Sloan properties and bank accounts.” She turned to bark at the law intern who had been shadowing her for weeks. “Anton! Get Judge Theron on the phone!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Anton squeaked as he fumbled for his phone.

Thirty minutes later, the CCPD had a search warrant, Drake was released from interrogation and Bertrand was yelling at Riley and Max to get out of his station house.

“What are you doing at my desk?”

Riley looked up into Liam’s stormy expression as she closed the lid of her laptop. “Updating my story. I promise I didn’t look through your files!”

“This time.”

“That’s what I said.” She gave him a disarming smile as she rose and started stuffing the computer, notepads, and pens into her taupe, Saffiano leather Kate Spade laptop tote. “I didn’t read any of your files this time.”

It had been a long day; he was tired; he was irritated; he was ready for a break in this case… and yet something about her infectious grin and the teasing lilt in her voice pulled a begrudging smile from him. He shook his head in wonderment. How did she keep getting under his skin?

He called out to her as she walked away. “Hey, Riley!”

She turned back to face him. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. Your intel was actually helpful tonight.”

Her grin broadened into a full fledged smile, lighting up her whole face. “You’re welcome, detective. See you around.”

She found Drake and Max both waiting for her at the homicide office door. She directed her attention to Drake. “What are you still doing here?”

“Just got out of interrogation, thanks to someone who doesn’t understand confidentiality.” There was no accusation in his tone, just a simple statement of fact.

“It’s not my fault your client was implicated in a homicide.”

“Oh, I’m not blaming you.” He replied as he looked past her to shoot daggers at Max.

Max blinked. “What did I do?”

Drake shook his head as he pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. She’s with me.” Max flushed a deep shade of crimson. “We’re both in my car, I mean!”

“Then I’ll walk you both out. Can’t be too careful. It’s late, and this is Cordonia City.”

“I’m perfectly capable of protecting her.”

Drake’s eyes ran quickly and dismissively over the younger man. “Sure you are, kid.”

The three stepped out into the dimly lit, air-conditioned hallway as Liam watched them leave with curiosity, regret, and annoyance mingling in his expression.

The ancient, decrepit elevator dinged as it rocked to a stop on the first floor and the doors slid creakily open.

Neville VanCouer was arguing with the front desk sergeant. “I heard suspects were brought in for questioning. I just want to get a statement—”

“Heard? Or read it in my story?” Riley gloated.

Neville looked like his head was about to explode. “Why were they allowed in?”

The desk sergeant’s bored expression never changed as he shrugged. “Came in with a homicide detective.”

“How?”

Another shrug from the sergeant.

Neville spun on Riley. “The updates you’ve been posting…someone is giving you insider information!”

She gave him a saccharine sweet smile. “Or I’m just a better reporter than you.”

Neville took a step toward her, but Drake moved quickly, inserting himself between Riley and the other reporter. “Why don’t you go harass someone else?”

Neville glared at Drake, but he stepped back. The showdown was broken by Neville’s photograph, who had just reappeared from the men’s room. “Hey! That’s the guy that told me there was a door open around back!”

Max lifted a shoulder innocently. “There was when I was back there.”

The other man’s eyes narrowed. “Then why haven’t any crime scene photos been published anywhere?”

“Ah…. technical difficulties.”

The photographer looked skeptically between Max and Neville, as if trying to decide if Max was lying.

Neville shook his head, “It’s not worth it, Tariq. Come on, let’s go.”

“See?” Drake was almost gloating. “You needed me.”

Riley rolled her eyes. “Neville is annoying and slimy, but he’s not dangerous.”

“Yeah,” Max chimed in, “And we’re standing in a police station.”

“Listen.” Riley decided to get the elephant in the room out of the way. “I know you think I threw you under the bus with Liam. I’ll understand if you want to cancel our dinner plans.”

“Oh, we’re still going to dinner.”

Riley’s brows furrowed in confusion. “But I thought you said—”

“I said you were going to be a giant pain in my ass.” His eyes tracked across her face. “But something tells me you’re worth all the trouble.”

#the royal romance #trr fanfic #angelasscribbles #laws end #trr au #trr au fanfic #writeblr #crime drama #Law's End #cordonia city #maxwell beaumont #liam rys #drake walker #riley brooks #trr fandom #no canon #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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normal-thoughts-official · 2 years

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King Liam when you tell him you're in love with Drake: he's my best friend. He deserves love. I wish you two all the best

King Liam when you tell him you're in love with Hana: how could I ever hope to compete? She is perfect. I hope it works out

King Liam when you tell him you're in love with Maxwell:

[ID: Squidward staring at Mr Krabs in disbelief, his eyes bloodshot. End ID]

#playchoices #the royal romance #liam rys #maxwell beaumont #drake walker #hana lee #im absolutely crying comparing the reactions this is so funny fjffbidjdid #screaming #described

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choicesficwriterscreations · 2 months

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TRR F/AotW - April 21-27, 2024

✒️ = Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨 = Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA

HANA LEE

Hana Lee - Bookworm🎨by @mxcameronrose

Hana Lee - Bookworm (AU) 🎨by @cassiopeiacovus

Hana Lee: Cordonia's Most Influential Courtier ✒️🏳️‍🌈 | Hana Lee x Kiera Theron - @mand-delemonde

Hana Lee Fanart 🎨by @sazanes

Hana Lee Musician Fanart 🎨by @mxcameronrose

Hana Lee Romance Fanart 🎨 by @mxcameronrose

I Do Adore 🎨| Hana Lee x MC - @uselessgay10101

Winds of Change ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Hana Lee x MC - @unsettlingconclusions

MULTIPLE PAIRINGS

All That She Wants (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Multiple Pairings - @angelasscribbles Chapter 1: Riley's Dilemma Liam Rys x MC Chapter 2: Waylaid Drake Walker x MC

The Odd Couples ✒️Ⓜ️| Multiple Pairings - @dcbbw

MAIN CFWC F/AotW List

#the royal romance #the royal romance choices #choices fanfic #choices fanart #hana lee #liam rys #drake walker #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #cfwc art of the week #playchoices

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angelasscribbles · 12 days

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All That She Wants Chapter 10: Old Wounds

Series: All That She Wants

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for this chapter: Drake x Olivia (past)

Word Count: 1,341

Rating: M

Warnings for this chapter: none

My other stuff: Master List.

“Coming!” Drake bellowed as he crossed the room to open the door. He pulled it open to find Olivia standing on the other side. “Liv! What are you doing here?”

The side of her mouth turned slightly downward. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“Sorry. I’m just surprised to see you. I didn’t know you were in town, much less here.” He stepped back and swung the door wide. “Come on in!”

Olivia sauntered in like she owned the place, her eyes scanning the room surreptitiously. Not much had changed since the last time she’d been in it. The room was tidy, practically bare. She’d always told him he was a minimalist, and he had always told her that he just preferred simplicity.

The changes that existed were minimal, but they were there. Like the woman’s hairbrush lying on the bedside table.

Riley’s.

She shoved her annoyance down as she perched on the edge of his bed. Watching his face carefully, she confided, “Liam summoned me here.”

Drake’s brows furrowed. “Why?”

“To offer to divorce Riley and marry me.” She laser focused on his face, watching for any sign that the information troubled him.

If it did, he gave no indication of it. “Why don’t you just put the man out of his misery and say yes? Then he’ll have what he wants and let Riley go. Maybe then she can move on.”

“Is that what you want?” She asked more sharply than she intended. “For Riley to move on?”

He ignored her question. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him no.”

“Why?”

“Why?” She gave him a look that indicated he was stupid. “Because I don’t want him like that!”

“That’s not true, and you know it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you and Liam have been entangled in some sort of situationship since puberty.”

“Not continuously.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t on again, off again, but it’s on far more than it’s off. Come on, Liv. Name a period of at least six months where you haven’t been sleeping with him!”

“Is that why you broke things off?” She sniffed haughtily. “You were jealous of my relationship with Liam?”

An ironic laugh escaped him. “First of all, no. I was never jealous of you and Liam. I’ve known forever that the two of you are like fucking moths to a flame when it comes to each other. No matter what you say, no matter how many times you tell him to go to hell, sooner or later, the two of you end up in each other’s orbit again.”

“That sounds like jealously.” She gloated.

“Nope.” He shook his head. “Just stating facts. I always knew that whatever you and I had, it was temporary. We were never an actual couple, Liv.”

“Only because neither of us do relationships.” She protested. “You kept clothes at my home. We went on vacation together. I’m pretty sure you stopped sleeping around.”

“All those things are true.” He replied carefully. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that it felt like something more than just sleeping together. Things were going well. We never argued, never had a falling out, then you just ended it without an explanation or conversation.”

He was dumbfounded by the note of hurt in her voice. Had Olivia Nevrakis had actual feelings for him? He stared at her in shock for several long seconds, until it started to get awkward. “Oh. I…I didn’t realize you would care. I mean, yes, we had fun together, and yes, I kept clothes at your house because it was convenient to do so since we were spending every other weekend there, but I never thought you wanted more than that.”

“I didn’t say I did.”

“Okay.” He considered his next words carefully. “I stopped sleeping around at some point because I was satisfied with what we had. Did you?”

“I—”

He waved her away. “It’s fine. I know you didn’t. We weren’t in love, Liv. We were in lust, we were in like, we were a lot of things, but in love wasn’t one of them.”

Maybe he hadn’t been, but she had. She wasn’t about to tell him that, though. Still. She had to know. “Fine. But if you got bored, or met someone else, why not just tell me that? It was rude to just cut and run the way you did.”

It was beginning to sink in that he had hurt her when he ended things. He knew her well enough not to say that out loud to her. Instead, he tried his best to fix it. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I have no excuse other than I really didn’t think I was more than a blip on your radar, so my reasons weren’t important.”

“Alright. I’ll accept that. But just out of curiosity, why did you end it?” Drake Walker was the only man that had ever dumped her. She was usually the one who did the dumping.

Her pride still stung.

Drake sighed as he ran a hand across his face. He didn’t want to throw Liam under the bus, but he didn’t want to compound the hurt he had caused by lying to her about it. “Liam asked me to back off.”

Shock, anger, and indignation shot through her. “That son of a bitch!” She was furious, and she was outraged, but underneath that, there was a tiny sliver of satisfaction. “What gave him the right to interfere in my life?”

“Probably the fact that you were still sleeping with him, knowing he was in love with you.”

“That…are you judging me?”

“I’m just saying that if he’s truly your friend and you don’t return his feelings, then you should probably stop sleeping with him.”

Olivia scoffed. “Who asked you?”

“No one. But why can’t you just admit you have feelings for him?”

“Because I don’t!”

“Then why do you two keep ending up together?”

“Please. The sex is good. What more could there be?”

“Do you keep in touch with Jin?”

“What? No. What does that have to do with anything?”

Drake shrugged. “You told me the sex with Jin was phenomenal.”

“So?”

“So, if everything is just about bumping uglies, why don’t you keep in touch with him?”

“I—”

“Or that Italian guy? What was his name? Fransisco?”

“Oh, for the love of God, Drake!” she exploded. “Liam’s the king! I can’t just cut ties with him like I can some fucking second rate spy for hire or a foreign diplomate!”

“Right. But it’s not just budget meetings and galas, is it? It’s trips to Paris, skiing in the Alps, yachting in the Caribbean, sneaking away during—”

“Because we’re friends!”

“Okay. Keep telling yourself that.”

“Oh my God, you’re infuriating!”

“Infuriating and right.”

Olivia rolled her eyes with a scoff.

Drake shook his head. “Well, this has been fun, but I need to get to the gym for PT with my squad. I’m already late. See you at dinner tonight?”

“No, I’m leaving for Lythikos before dinner.”

“Alright. Well, see you next time, then.”

He was almost to the door when she asked, “What was the second thing?”

He stopped and turned back to her. “What?”

“Earlier, when I asked if you were jealous of my relationship with Liam, you said first of all….what was the second thing?”

Drake smirked as he responded, “Second of all, you called it a relationship. You asked if I was jealous of your relationship with Liam. Your words, Liv. Relationship. And you just did it a second time. I trust you can show yourself out?”

She watched him leave as fury, confusion, and dismay collided inside her.

Were her feelings for Liam more complex than she wanted to admit? Was all her pining over Drake just wounded pride because he dumped her?

She leaped to her feet, slammed out the door, and power walked back to her room to pack.

Because fuck if she was ready to confront any of that.

#the royal romance #trr #drake walker #the royal romance fanfic #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #angelasscribbles #choices #choices stories you play #trr au #trr au fanfic

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lizzybeth1986 · 6 months

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TRR's Alternative LIs: The "Romances" that Didn't Happen

A complaint that often emerges from readers about the TRH series, is the amount of time that LIs who are not married to the MC spend hovering around her. They seem to be ever-present, ever- ready to do her bidding, give her attention, and shower her with praise. They hardly seem to spend much time at their own homes, don't date, and haven't settled with anyone in the five year-timeline of the series.

"It's almost as if they have no life of their own!" we complain.

Yet this wasn't always the case. TRR was in fact one of the rare Choices series' that had intended - at different points in the first 3 books - for an alternative romance for each of the LIs. So what happened? Why did these attempts fail?

It is easy to assume that the answer would be the same for every alternative pairing - the "crazy stans" threw a tantrum, and the writers backtracked. But one has to only look at the trajectory of each pairing to realize that this reading doesn't apply equally to all of them.

Many factors played into why the writers did a full about-turn and left all their LIs single. Some related to the writers' attitudes towards an LI, some related to how they felt about the side characters they paired the LIs with. And often, the fan response to each fed into those biases and opinions. This essay is an attempt to explore these factors and give as full a picture as I can manage, to answer the question of "why did these pairings not happen?". I hope I can succeed in that.

I will be tagging all those who had responded to the previous feeler post on this or showed interest earlier, but if you see this and would like to be tagged in this series, do let me know!

Intro: A Brief History of Alternative Romances in Choices

Liam and Olivia: When You Prefer the Side Character to the Main

Maxwell and Penelope: When You Like the Side Character So Much, You Gift Her a Shiny New LI

Hana and Madeleine: When You Reward Your Favourite Bully with One of Her Victims

Drake and Kiara: When You're Fucking Racist

#liam rys #hana lee #maxwell beaumont #drake walker #kiara theron #olivia nevrakis #penelope ebrim #madeleine amaranth #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #essay series: trr's alternative LIs

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karahalloway · 2 months

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(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 20 - Steal Me Away

Fandom: TRR

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

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Drake is back... but that doesn't mean that it's a happy reunion...

Word Count: 4,300

Rating/Warnings: M (shouting, guilt-tripping, dangerous driving, swearing in multiple languages, one over-heated kiss)

Chapter theme song:

Chapter 20 - Steal Me Away

I whirl around in disbelief. "Drake...!"

He's stood before me with two days' worth of stubble, regarding me with a long-suffering look.

But it really is him.

And I feel my heart swell, even though I can tell that he's not exactly best pleased to find me in a random antique shop in the middle of Rome.

The muscle in his jaw twitches. "I turn my back for one goddamn minute and—"

"What are you doing here?" I blurt.

"I can ask the same of you, Gale..." he counters, folding his arms over his chest. "Because this sure as shit ain't no bridal boutique."

My chin lifts on its own accord. "I decided to make a detour."

"Jesus fucking—" He rakes his hand through his hair. "Did you leave your brain in a ditch somewhere in the process?"

My eyes widen. "Wha—! No! I—"

"The city is crawling with paps!" he almost shouts, jabbing a finger towards the door. "Who are looking for any excuse to make a meal out of you! Did you not think for one second that—?"

"What?" I counter heatedly, stepping up to him. "That I should cower and hide instead, like I'm to blame for it all? I told you — I refuse to let these people—"

"Well, it would've been a damn sight better than making me chase you across half the fucking city!"

"Why were you even chasing after me?" I demand, my own ire flaring. "You're supposed to be in Dubai!"

"Been there, done that, got the jet lag to prove it," he hits back sarcastically. "But just because I'm gone doesn't mean you suddenly have carte blanche to fuck off on your own."

"Says the person who walked off without so much as a 'see you later'..."

His mouth hardens. "I didn't want to—"

"Also, I'm not on my own," I continue testily. "Allard and Schweitzer—"

"—are fucking fired," he cuts in, suddenly darkened mocha eyes flashing. "They should never have—"

"Ch'è qualche problema?"

"No!" Drake and I snap in unison.

The old man falls mute before muttering something disparaging under his breath.

I continue staring at Drake, heart thumping and chest heaving in the wake of our dust-up.

He glares back unblinkingly, jaw clenched as the tension rolls off him in palatable waves.

I reach up to adjust the strap of my tote indignantly. "So much for trusting each other, huh, Walker?"

"Dammit, Gale," he growls. "That's not what—"

Grabbing the wrapped box off the counter, I stomp past him without a backwards glance. "See you back at the embassy."

He has some nerve, showing up out of the blue t—

I barely make it two steps before he's grabbed me by the arm.

I open my mouth to retort...

...but I'm not given a chance to get a word in edgeways, because in the next instant, he's slammed me against his chest, laying claim to my mouth with a ferocity that's on the verge of being savage.

The fight whooshes out of me as my arms fly up to wrap themselves 'round his neck, even as I feel his fingers dig against the soft cotton of my dress, pulling me to him like a long-lost ship to anchor.

"Christ, girl," he growls against my lips. "You send me off the edge of reason..."

"I'm... sorry..." I gasp, clinging to him helplessly as he trails down the line of my jaw. "I didn't mean to—"

"Ah... l'amore... non è bello se non è litigarello."

Drake starts as he gets clapped roundly on the back.

Peeking up, I see the shopkeeper smirking at us conspiratorially as he ambles past.

"Err... Sì," coughs Drake, pulling back from me. "Sto certamente imparando che a mio spese..."

The man laughs in response. "Non capita a tutti?"

"You speak Italian?" I gawp, feeling a flush creep up my cheeks as the old man throws us a wink over his shoulder.

"Uh... Yeah..." Drake mutters, running his hand over the back of his head somewhat sheepishly. "With Bast."

"Oh." I glance between him and the old man. "What did he say?"

"An old proverb," Drake says, looking just as embarrassed as I am feeling about the fact that we'd inadvertently let our dirty laundry rip in the company of a complete stranger. "Love is not beautiful if it does not quarrel."

My cheeks redden further. "I-I see..."

"It's kind of a compliment..." he admits, shooting a sidelong glance over at the man, who's now busy dusting some shelves. "But we should probably get out of his hair."

"Definitely...!" I chirp, diving towards the saving grace of the exit.

"Err... La saluto," offers Drake on his way out. "E scusi il disturbo..."

"Eh!" comes the scoffed response. "Chi non risica non rosica. Ma è meglio stare attenti con lei! Donna buona – vale una corona."

"Lo so..."

"Everything alright?" I ask as Drake joins me on the baking pavement.

"Yeah," he assures me, not quite meeting my eye. "Just giving his two cents..."

Something flashes across his face, too fast for me to read.

But before I can ask him about it, he's already marching me across the square.

"What about Allard and Schweitzer?" I protest, trying to squint behind me as Drake navigates us 'round the incessant stream of sightseers. "Are they—?"

"I sent them back to the embassy," Drake replies, yanking me back as a pair of kids dart out in front of me.

"You didn't actually fire them, did you?" I gasp.

"Sure as hell thinking about it," he mutters, moving us forward again.

"If it's any consolation, they did try to talk me out of coming out here..."

"Clearly not hard enough."

"I can be very persuasive when I want to be," I remind him.

He lets out a low breath. "Don't I fuckin' know it..."

"Look," I say, coming to a stop and turning to face him. "I get you're pissed—"

"That's putting it mildly."

"—but don't take it out on Allard and Schweitzer," I tell him flatly. "They didn't do anything wrong... and I actually get along with them."

He holds my gaze for a long time before answering. "They're not your friends, Gale."

"Maybe not in any conventional sense," I admit. "But getting me a security detail had been your idea, Walker. And I know I was against it initially, but Allard and Schweitzer have been able to be there for me when you haven't."

His mouth hardens.

"And I know that grates you," I continue quickly, before he can cut me off again. "But we knew from the start that this was going to be the case, so if you do need to leave, then I'd prefer to be left with people I can trust. And I trust Allard and Schweitzer — with my life. Which is actually saying a lot."

He holds my gaze for what feels like a full minute before answering. "I'll think about it."

"That's it?" I demand in disbelief as he grabs my wrist to pull me after him again. "After all that, you're just going t—?"

"I said I'll think about it."

I glare at his back. "You're a dick."

He rounds on me like a wolf. "I'm a fuckin' realist. And the reality is that Allard and Schweitzer messed up. Big time. And I don't care how much you like them, or how many times you've braided each other's hair—"

My eyes narrow. "That's not—"

"—because none of that fucking matters out here! What matters — the only goddamn thing that matters — is keeping you safe. From the paps, from the aristos, even from your ownfucking self, if you're about to do something stupid. And at that, they've unquestionably failed. So, no. I'm not about to cut them a break. Especially not on your say-so. Because the stakes are too fucking real, and I'm not gonna let anyone play dice with your life. Least of all the people whose one job is to look out for you. Got it?"

I force myself to blink back the sudden tears in my eyes. "Yeah..."

"Good," he grunts. "Now get on."

Glancing past Drake, I spot what is very literally the last thing I'd expect to see him with.

I scoff up at him. "In your dreams, bud."

"Gale," he warns, reaching for one of the helmets that's hanging from the black and white moped's frame. "I'm not in the fucking m—"

"Well, neither am I," I hit back tersely. "So, you can take that deathtrap of a Vespa and shove it."

"First off," he counters, tossing the helmet at me. "It's a Piaggio. Second, the only reason I had to resort to this is because you decided to bail."

I catch the helmet irately. "So, you're saying that this is my fault?"

"Damn right, it is," he confirms, extracting a second helmet from the storage compartment nestled beneath the seat. "It's got all of 50cc so it's underpowered as fuck."

"Then why the heck did you get it!"

"Because it's the fastest way to get around the city."

I snort at him. "You mean, it's the fastest way to get into an accident..."

He prays for deliverance under his breath. "Gale, for the love of Christ, will you just—?"

"No," I declare, folding my arms. "The last time you conned me onto the back of your motorbike, I literally thought I was going to die. And after seeing how everyone in Rome drives, I have no interest in—"

"You drive, then."

Drake's unexpected offer pulls me up short. "Wait. What?"

He pulls a set of keys from his pocket. "It's a one-time offer, Gale. Either you take the wheel, or I do. But you've gettin' your ass on this sorry excuse of a bike, one way or another."

"I..." I swallow thickly. "I don't know how..."

"I'll walk you through it," he assures me. "There ain't much to it."

"Somehow I doubt that..."

"Clock's tickin', girl..."

I heave a breath before shoving my head into my helmet. "Okay, fine. I'll do it."

"Figured you would," he murmurs, holding the keys up. "You know where these go?"

"Up your ass," I retort, snatching the keychain from his hands.

The corner of his mouth twitches — whether in amusement or annoyance, I can't tell.

Not that I really care. I can be a jerk, too. But, I figure that at least with me driving, we won't rack up any speeding tickets or near misses on our way back to the Cordonian embassy, which is where we are staying for the two nights that we are in Rome for.

Walking up to the moped — admittedly with more swagger than I'm actually feeling at this moment — I grab the handlebars and swing my leg over the middle of the frame.

After a quick inspection, I locate the ignition switch and slot the key in.

But before I have a chance to try and turn the engine on, Drake's hand appears in my line of sight.

Reaching between my legs, he opens a hidden compartment in the frame. "For your bag."

"Oh," I say in genuine surprise, taking my bag off so I can tuck it away. "That is actually kind of neat."

"Last thing we need is for you to lose your stuff..." he drawls, shutting the glove box back up.

As he straightens again, his arm brushes the bare skin of my knee. And despite (or maybe because of) the unresolved tension shimmering between us in the wake of our heated reunion, I can't help but feel a familiar zap of electricity course through my nerves at the inadvertent contact.

"No kidding..." I concede, somewhat hoarsely. Clearing my throat, I add, "So... umm, what's next?"

"Grab the break and turn the key over as far as it'll go."

"So, kind of like a car," I surmise, following the instructions. "Why isn't it starting?"

"Because you only turned the electronics on," Drake advises. "To kick the engine off, you need to disengage the kick stand, and then press the start button."

"Jesus Christ, this is complicated..." I grumble as I scoot off the seat so I can try to figure out how to do what he just said.

"No more complicated than sailing a yacht," Drake counters, watching my antics from the safety of the pavement. "Just give it a shove ."

"How will that—?"

"It's got a rear-mounted kickstand," he says. "You disengage it by rolling the bike forward."

"Right," I grumble, feeling like a total idiot. "Because that's so obvious."

Maybe I should've let Drake drive, after all...

"You still holding the break?"

I snap my head up as I give the handlebars a hard push. "Huh?"

A squeal erupts from my mouth as the moped suddenly lurches forward beneath me, and I have a moment of sheer panic as I wrestle with the hunk of metal to keep from crashing to the ground.

"I told you to hold the break..."

"You could've been more specific!"

He lets out a low breath. "You good?"

"Yeah," I huff, finally managing to find some semblance of balance with an uncooperative moped stuck between my legs.

"Turn her on, then."

I scan the buttons in front of me. "Err..."

"The one by your right thumb."

Shifting my grip, I extend my thumb out to press the button...

"You still holdin' the break?" Drake asks.

I quickly tighten my hold on the left-side break. "Yes."

Drake eyes me unconvincedly. "Just checking..."

I stick my tongue out at him.

"Hey," he objects. "You're the one who wanted to do this, Gale."

"Yeah, everything is my fault today..." I grumble as I press the start button.

The moped sparks to life beneath me, and I feel a massive rush of achievement.

"I did it!" I cry, meeting Drake's eye with an unadulterated grin.

He quirks a brow at me. "Y'know you're still stationary, right?"

"Shut up."

Drake steps up to the bike with a shake of his head and flips out the passenger foot rest. "Last chance to bow out gracefully, Gale."

I glance over my shoulder at him. "If you're trying to pull some kind of reverse psychology on me, Walker—"

"Wouldn't dream of it..." he assures me dryly, mounting up as well. "But my word is gospel, y'hear?"

"Aye-aye, Cap'n," I say sardonically... while trying to ignore the heat of his body and the instinctive urge to lean back into it as he settles down on the narrow seat behind me.

Because as much as I missed him, and as glad as I am that he's back, our volatile reunion has served as a stark reminder that we never finished our conversation back in Applewood. Not only that, but thanks to the almost break-neck speed at which things have been happening, the list of topics for discussion has only grown since then.

And the last thing I want is for us to fall down the same toxic hole that we did in the wake of Christian's surprise reveal in Valtoria.

I just have to hope that we'll be able to squeeze in some much-needed couple time before even more things pile up between us.

Not to mention, I'm desperate to know what had happened with Tariq in Dubai... and whether Drake's record-fast turnaround is a sign of some much-needed success, or even more demoralising failure.

But, first things first: getting back to the embassy in one piece, without the paps chasing us.

I feel Drake roll his eyes at me. "Wrong salutation, but never mind... Now. We're gonna do this slowly and gently. There's a lot of people around, and we don't need you on the front page of the Sun again because you accidentally torpedoed a toddler."

My throat constricts. "Y-You saw that?"

"You'd be hard pressed to find someone who hasn't," he mutters. "But right now, your focus needs to be on driving this thing. So, eyes up front and ignore everything else."

I swallow down my nerves. "Okay..."

"Your right hand controls the throttle. Your left hand controls the break," Drake instructs. "For the love of God, don't mix that up, or I'll be on the phone to your patents explaining why you suddenly need skin grafts."

I wince involuntarily at the gruesomeness of that particular image. "Got it."

"It's a mistake you'll only make once," he warns grimly. "To get going, twist down on the throttle while slowly easing up on the break. Don't jerk it, or you'll face plant into the speedometer."

"Anything else?" I ask, somewhat nervously.

As anticipated, driving a motorbike is a lot more nuanced than Drake made it look back in Cordonia. And I'm having some serious second thoughts about this whole thing...

"Keep your feet off the foot-stand until you've got enough momentum to stay upright."

"How will I know that?"

"You'll feel it," he assures me. "Like on a bike."

I bite my bottom lip.

"Hey," he says, brushing his fingers across my hip. "You got this, girl."

The familiarity of Drake's touch — even though it's fleeting — unwinds something in me. Because it's an unspoken reminder that no matter what may be going on around us... or between us, it's not going to come in the way of the promise that he made me.

I suck in a steadying breath. "Okay. Here goes."

Readjusting my grip on the handlebars, I twist my wrist down. Feeling the engine start to rumble with increased vigour, I gentle ease up on the break.

The Piaggio begins to creep forward.

"Watch the road, not the instruments," Drake cautions from behind me.

Lifting my eyes up, I carefully navigate us 'round the oncoming pedestrians, keeping my feet suspended alongside the moped, in case I need to make an emergency stop.

But, as we move away from the iconic landmark, the crowd starts to thin out, and the street widens. Passing a fruit and vegetable stand, I let go of the break fully, the bike pulls forward eagerly. Feeling slightly more confident, I add a bit more gas so I can finally lift my feet up without capsizing our delicate operation.

"Not bad," Drake approves. "You just gotta relax a bit."

I flush inadvertently. "I am relaxed."

"Your shoulders say different. You're driving like Quasimodo."

"Oh." I make a concerted effort to straighten my posture. "Better?"

"Yeah. But now you need to drop your elbows."

"So much for this being easy..."

"It is," he insists. "Once you get the hang of it."

"You and your technicalities, Walker..." I grumble.

"Everything's got a learning curve," he reminds me. "But we just might make a Hell's Angel out of you yet."

I snort back at him. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Evil Knievel. We haven't made it back to the embassy yet."

"Then you might wanna knuckle down for this next part."

"Why? What's—?"

I get my answer as we round a corner and come parallel to a busier-looking road.

Great...

"Right here, then first left," Drake advises as we approach a somewhat complicated-looking three-way intersection.

"Umm... Okay..." I mumble, eyeing up the noticeably faster-moving traffic on the main road with more than a bit of trepidation.

"No one's gonna give you room, so you'll have to gun it," comes the no-nonsense tip from behind me. "The indicator is by your left thumb."

A Fiat whizzes past, but the next car is some distance away. Taking a breath, I flick the indicator on and twist down on the throttle to merge into the gap.

"Move over one more," Drake shouts over my shoulder. "You're taking up the bus lane."

"Where the heck does it say that?" I demand, casting my head around in confusion.

"On the sign we just passed..."

"Was it invisible?"

"Hey," counters Drake. "You wanna argue with me, or a cop?"

"Neither," I concede sourly, making the switch to the left-side lane after a quick check in the mirror. "But they could've made it more obvious..."

Drake scoffs. "It's Rome. The bastards are trying to catch you out."

"Clearly," I agree, taking a left at the traffic lights...

...straight into a two-way fork in the road.

"Umm... What now?" I squeak, trying to hedge my bets as much as I can in the rapidly shrinking room that I have to make a decision before I run into the curb.

"Stay left."

I start to turn the bike, only to yank it back violently with a yelp as a car that I hadn't realised was trying to overtake me blows past with a scream of its horn.

"Vaffanculo!" yells Drake, throwing his hand out angrily at the other driver.

"Ohmygod..." I rasp, my entire body shaking in the wake of the near miss.

"Fuckin' asshole," gripes Drake. "You okay?"

I swallow thickly past the lump in my throat. "I... think so."

"If you need to pull over..."

I shake my head. "No. I'm fine. I just..."

"...get a kick outta playing chicken?"

"I don't do it on purpose!"

"You sure?" he asks dryly. "'Cause you definitely seem to be making a habit of it..."

I open my mouth, but quickly think better of it... as Drake has a point. I have had a few too many near misses lately. "Sorry... It isn't intentional. I thought that since I'd left the indicator on, that—"

"I know," he assures me, laying a hand on my hip again. "I'm not blaming you. But all the calls you've had have been too close. And..." His fingers tighten against the material of my dress. "I just don't want you to—"

"I know," I concede softly. "I don't want that either. And I'm not normally this accident-prone, I promise..."

"Except when your blood sugar's low," he corrects wryly.

His words cause me to clench my eyes together in consternation. "Damn it, the croissants..."

In the whirlwind of Drake's surprise reappearance, I'd forgotten all about the primary reason for sneaking away from the bridal boutique.

"What croissants?" queries Drake.

"The pistachio ones I was supposed to get from this little bakery next to the fountain that the Italian President had recommended."

I feel Drake's disbelieving gaze knife into the back of my head. "Seriously? That's the reason you were out playing hooky?"

"One of them, yes..." I reply evasively.

"Putain de merde..."

"Apparently they're very good..."

Drake mutters something under his breath. "Pull over."

My eyes widen. "What? Why?"

"Because it's past noon, and you're clearly starving."

"I'm fine," I insist, even though the only thing of substance I've had since this morning was the cup of coffee on Olivia's jet. "I'll just grab something when—"

The Piaggio lurches to a stop as Drake slaps a hand on the break. "No. You won't."

My eyes widen as my feet fly out on instinct to steady the suddenly stationary moped. "Why not?"

"Because the staff at the embassy already have their work cut out pulling together tonight's dinner, so the kitchen is off-limits," he explains, hopping off the back. "And you won't be able to take two steps outside to grab a sandwich without picking up a pap tail."

"Then why have we stopped in a dead-end alley?" I ask in disbelief as Drake pulls the moped it onto its kickstand while I'm still sat gaping at him from the seat.

"Because we just passed one of the best restaurants in Rome," he states. "So, I'm buying you lunch."

His cinnamon-laced eyes meet mine, and I see a sudden flash of rawness in his gaze... a silent plea entreating me to say yes. Which means this is about more than just food.

"Okay," I accede, wondering what could've prompted such a sudden change of heart. "But what about the paps? Aren't you worried we'll get spotted?"

"See any people?" asks Drake, reaching across my lap to turn the ignition off.

"No, but—"

"Exactly," he affirms, pocketing the keys. "This is one of the few places in the city where you ain't gonna bump into a reporter."

"How do you know?"

"Because apart from the fact that Sugo actually makes its own pasta, it is also a stone's throw from Parliament," he explains, offering me a hand to help me off the bike. "Which means that pencil pushers from every level of government come here to ink deals over carbonara, so no one — staff included — is gonna mess with the status quo."

"Sounds like something out of a mafia movie..."

"Where d'you think Hollywood gets its ideas from?" he drawls, pulling his helmet off to stow it in the under-seat compartment. "Places like this. Which is why no one will bother us here. Especially not the paps. It'd be a death sentence for this joint if their tight and discreet ship suddenly sprung a leak."

"Good to know," I acknowledge, unclipping the clasp of my own helmet. "But how did you even find out about this place? Let alone got in?"

"Leo," Drake replies, taking my helmet to clip it onto the handlebar. "He's on a first name basis with the chef."

I quirk a brow at him. "Sounds like there's a story there..."

Drake extricates my bag from the glove box with scoffs. "It's Leo. There's never not a story. But let's get you inside first. Before you pass out on the pavement."

"I'm not going to—" My stomach rumbles in pointed disagreement. "Okay, I am hungry. But where exactly is this place? There's nothing here apart from the back-ends of buildings..."

"Have I ever let you down when it comes to food?" he asks with a raised brow.

"No..."

"Then trust me."

The story continues in Chapter 21 - You Give Me Reason

A/N: Translations for the Italian below:

Ch'è qualche problema? - Is there a problem?

Ah... l'amore... non è bello se non è litigarello. - Ah, love... It is not beautiful if it does not quarrel.

Err... Sì. Sto certamente imparando che a mio spese... - Err... Yes. I am definitely learning that the hard way.

Non capita a tutti? - Don't we all?

Err... La saluto. E scusi il disturbo... - Err... Farewell. And apologies for disturbing you.

Eh! Chi non risica non rosica. Ma è meglio stare attenti con lei! Donna buona – vale una corona. - Eh! No risk, no reward! But you better take care of her! Good woman – worth a crown.

Lo so... - I know...

Vaffanculo! - Fuck you!

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cordonianroyalairlines · 6 months

Text

All I Want for Christmas Part 1

Series: Cordonian Royal Airlines

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Various

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Drake, Liam x Max

Word Count: 2,475

Rating: General

Warnings for this chapter: None

A/N: Listen. I had an idea for the @choicesprompts #rewritechallenge holiday edition. I had the whole scene in my head, but then I decided it needed a little lead-up. Then I decided the lead-up needed a lead-up and then these characters completely just took over, threw my script out the window, and took a whole detour to examine a little budding romance between Liam and Max when this story was supposed to be focused on Drake and Riley (and it still is, mostly).

Long story short, it got a little out of hand so I have split it into two chapters. I'm tagging all of the following:

@choicesprompts rewrite challenge, holiday edition TRR x Untamed Heart (one of my all-time favorite movies). @choicesficwriterscreations holiday prompt: Stuck together in the snow; @choicesdecember2023 Christmas and @choicesholidays: This is the worst Christmas ever.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Lassiter, have a pleasant stay!” Riley waved with a smile painted on her face as the last passenger debarked. The smile faded from her face as the guests disappeared down the jet bridge and her eyes took in the heavy snowfall blanketing the runway.

Max noticed her despondent expression. “You okay, Ri?”

She turned toward her best friend and coworker with a sigh. “Remind me again why I volunteered to work this flight?”

“Uh…because your sister is getting married in less than two months, and you needed the overtime to pay for the ridiculous over-the-top bachelorette party she wants.”

“Right. Amelia,” Riley nodded to herself, “I’m doing this for her.”

“I think you do too much for her, Ri,” Max clucked at her like a mother hen, “She takes advantage of your generous nature.”

“Oh, Max, it’s fine. You only get married once!”

He arched an eyebrow at her.

“Okay,” a giggle burst out of her, “Hopefully, she only gets married once!”

“Frankly, I’m surprised she found anyone willing to marry her. Is there something wrong with him?”

“Max!” Riley laughed as she thumped him playfully on the shoulder before turning serious. “I just hope we’re able to take off tomorrow as planned.” Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and she had promised her mother she’d be home so she could spend Christmas day with her parents and siblings.

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

Riley turned toward the voice to find the pilot striding toward them. Captain Liam Rys stopped in front of the flight attendants to announce, “There’s a blizzard headed straight for us.”

“Maybe we could just fly out right now—” Riley started hopefully.

“That’s a negative,” Liam cut her off, “that would put me over my flight limit for the day. We’ll proceed to the hotel as planned and hope for the best but be prepared to spend Christmas here.”

“Remind me why you agreed to fly into Estonia, the blizzard capital of the world, two days before Christmas?” Max grumbled.

Liam’s eyes flicked to him in annoyance. “Because of the obscene amount of money Mr. Lassiter was willing to pay for me to do so. You’ll thank me when you get your next paycheck and there’s a substantial bonus on it, on top of the holiday bonus you just received.”

“It’s okay,” Max shrugged with a tinge of disappointment in his tone, “My brother is in Japan anyway.”

Liam’s expression softened a little. “I’m sure he wishes he could spend Christmas with you.”

“Well, he’s flying with Leo, which he loves. I’m just disappointed that we’re almost never assigned to the same flight.”

Liam averted his eyes, unwilling to tell Max that was on purpose. Bertrand had requested that Max not be on the same flight as himself after the younger Beaumont’s enthusiasm became embarrassing for him. Max had gushed to a passenger about his pride in his older sibling, proudly articulating that, “My brother’s the co-pilot. He’s really good at it. He’s almost good enough to be the pilot!”

Liam shuffled his feet awkwardly, then nodded at Max, “Yes, well…. See you at the hotel.”

“You will?” Max’s head whipped around in surprise. Liam had never expressed an interest in seeing him outside of work before.

“Well, he was a little snippy,” Riley observed as Liam disappeared down the sky bridge.

“But did he seem….I don’t know…interested in-“ a flush crawled up his neck and then flared across his face, “Never mind. Of course not.”

Riley’s brow furrowed. “Interested in what?”

“Nothing. Let’s just get this cabin cleaned up so we can go.”

***

Riley awoke the next morning to sheets of snow pouring from the sky, blanketing the city in white as far as she could see from her hotel window. Which wasn’t that far. The snow was coming down too fast and too thick for her to see past the parking lot.

“Shit!” She aggressively pulled the curtains closed and dove back under the covers.

***

“So, what have you two been up to all day?” Liam asked as the four-member flight crew sat down for dinner in the hotel restaurant.

“Well, I slept in, then I called my mom to let her know I wouldn’t be making it home today and probably not tomorrow either. Then I drown my sorrows in a steaming hot bubble bath.” Riley responded as she pulled the menu over to her.

“Yeah, but then we saw a movie,” Max reminded her. Turning to Liam, he rambled excitedly, “This hotel has a theater in it. There was popcorn and everything! And then we took a cooking class! Can you believe that? The hotel chef hosts a class here once a week, but they did an extra class today because it snowed everyone in.”

Liam smiled at Max’s enthusiasm. “That sounds like fun. Now I feel boring. I read all day. Drake, what about you?”

“What about me?” Drake was busy shoveling a complimentary roll into his mouth.

Riley laughed. “Have you not been listening to the conversation? He wants to know what you did to keep busy today, you dork.”

Drake grabbed his water glass and chugged the cold liquid down to cover the fact that he had not heard a word of the conversation since Riley stopped talking. He was still picturing her in that bubble bath. When he sat the glass down, he responded, “I did my usual morning workout. The gym here is excellent. Since I couldn’t go for a run, I hit the heavy bags and then swam a few laps.”

“How many is a few?” Max asked.

“Twenty.” Drake’s eyes flicked to Max as he answered before landing quickly back on Riley’s face searching for any clue that she was impressed, or at least interested in him.

Not that he cared. She was a coworker, and he didn’t date coworkers.

“All before lunch?” She raised an eyebrow.

He wasn’t sure if she found his morning activities impressive or stupid. Her expression gave away nothing. “I find it hard to sit still,” he answered.

Liam scoffed, “You sit in the cockpit for hours at a time.”

“First of all, that’s different. I’m doing plenty as you well know and second of all, that’s why I need more physical movement when I’m on the ground.”

“Makes sense to me!” Max nodded emphatically as the waitress arrived with the menus.

They ordered their food and ate while making companionable chit chat. After dinner, Max suggested they continue the night across the lobby.

The hotel bar was crowded. The four coworkers quickly parted in the crowd. Drake and Liam navigated to a small table in the back and ordered drinks.

“You don’t want to ask her to dance?” Liam nodded across the room to the dance floor where Max and Riley were laughing and twirling to the music.

Drake followed Liam’s eyes and froze as he watched her sway and shimmy to the thump of heavy base. “I don’t dance.”

“I’ve seen you dance.”

“Not well.”

“So, you’re worried about embarrassing yourself in front of her?”

“What? No!” Drake reached for the tumbler of single malt scotch as the server placed it on the table in front of him and took a long pull as his mind spun with ways to shift the conversation away from his nonexistent love life. “What’s going on with you and Max?”

Liam startled so hard that bourbon sloshed over the rim of his glass. He stared at Drake in a blind panic. “What do you mean?”

“I mean….you usually pay no attention to what the flight attendants are doing when we have layovers. Yet you invited everyone to dinner tonight and you’re the one that was watching them dance. I’m pretty sure you’re not into Riley because if you were, you wouldn’t be pushing me toward her. So that leaves Max. Tell me I’m wrong.”

He lowered his glass to the table with a sigh. “It’s that obvious?”

“To me, but I’ve known you for a long time, Li.”

Liam blew out a long breath. “Shit.”

“Why don’t you just tell him you’re interested?”

“No,” Liam shook his head vigorously, “I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“So many reasons! Starting with the fact that I’m his boss and that’s a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen.”

“Not if he likes you back,” Drake countered.

“That’s not likely.”

Again, Drake asked, “Why not?”

Liam scoffed as he gestured toward the dance floor. “I mean, look at him! He’s fun and popular and hilariously funny. And look at those dance moves! He’s interesting and cool. What could he possibly see in me?”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, man.”

“I’m a stick in the mud and you know it. I was the president of my debate team. He was the lead in his school’s production of Beetle Juice.”

“How do you know- “

“Bertrand told me.”

“So, you’ve been pumping his brother for information?”

“Not the point. He’s amazing and fun and talented and I’m….me.”

“Liam, come on, man, you-“

“When I was twelve, I read law books for fun.”

“Geez, okay. Never mind. You’re definitely going to die alone.”

“Shut up,” Liam laughed, “I know you think I’m being dramatic.“

“You fly planes for a living,” Drake reminded him. “In my experience, a lot of people find that sexy.”

“Yes, well, I know your experience is quite extensive in that area but-“

“Are you calling me a man whore?”

“If the shoe fits….” Liam muttered into his drink.

“Insult me all you want, but it isn’t going to change the fact that you’ve got it bad. You should just tell him.”

“Oh, okay, Mr. I don’t like Riley.”

Fuck. Drake took another long drink. The conversation had come full circle. His eyes drifted across the room to find her again. She was still with Max.

***

Riley led Max off the dance floor and to a table as she flagged down a server for some water. “What’s up with you tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve been acting squirely all night and you keep looking around like you’re searching for somebody. What’s that about?”

Max flushed, “Ah….I think I might have a thing for Liam.”

“Wait…what?” Riley shrieked, then clapped her hands over her mouth.

“I don’t know….” Max dropped his eyes to the table. “I mean, you know, he’s hot or whatever.”

“Max!” She slapped his shoulder. “Since when? And why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged. “Just recently I’ve started to notice him more, that’s all. He’s always being nice to me and- “

“He’s nice to everyone.”

“I know, but it’s more than that! I can’t explain it, okay? It’s just…the way he looks at me sometimes….”

“I have never seen you act shy before! You hit on that model last week!”

“Oh, him? Yeah, but that was just--”

“That man is an international star, and you had zero qualms asking for his snap.”

“I know, but- “

“And he gave it to you!”

“Sure, but Liam isn’t just a pretty face, Riley! He’s so fucking smart and serious. He’s sophisticated, and there’s just no way he’d be into a goofball like me.”

“Ah, Maxey, anyone with half a brain would be into you.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend.”

“Yes. But also because it’s true.”

“No, it’s not. I’m the general fuckup in my family. Just ask Bertrand. Or my father.”

“Max, you’re not a fuckup!” Riley admonished. “You’re just different from your brother and father, thank God! I’m sorry, I know you love him, but Bertrand is the most boring man alive, and your father is a dick, so please don’t judge yourself by his opinion of you.”

“Bert’s not boring. He just had to grow up fast. My father put a lot of pressure on him and he, unlike me, rose to the challenge. I mean, look at us. He’s a pilot and I’m a flight attendant. Do you remember what my father said when I told him I wanted to be a flight attendant?”

“Yes, but on the bright side, it was the first time he acknowledged your sexual orientation.”

Max snorted, “That’s not funny, Riley.”

“You laughed.”

He bumped her shoulder with his own with an amused shake of his head, “If your point is that my father is a homophobic, controlling, abusive asshole whose opinion should mean nothing to me or anyone else with a lick of self-respect, then point taken.” He lifted his glass to her.

She lifted hers and tapped it into his with a grin. “My work here is done. Now go over there and ask him to shoot darts or something.”

***

“All right, well, this has been fun, but I’m going up to bed now.” Liam pushed away from the table and stood up, stretching as he did so.

“You really are a stick in the mud,” Drake laughed as the server cleared their table and asked if he could get them anything else. “Yeah, an unopened bottle of what we’ve been drinking tonight.”

Liam turned to go but froze as a voice that sent heat shocking through him spoke, “Hey…Liam….you wanna…go play darts or something?”

He turned to find Max smiling at him. Trying to push down the rising panic in his throat, his eyes flicked to Drake, who just gave him an amused smile, then back to Max, who looked uncharacteristically nervous. “Uh…. sure.”

“Great!” Relief washed across Max’s features. Then he remembered himself and begrudgingly turned to include Drake in the invitation. “Would you like to join us?”

“Nah, I’m good. You two go ahead. I’ve got a bottle of top-shelf whiskey, and this hotel has steak on their room service menu. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay then, goodnight and Merry Christmas,” Liam didn’t meet Drake’s eyes as he waved bye and then followed Max to the dart boards lined up against the far wall.

Drake chuckled to himself as he took the bottle from the server and thrust a handful of bills at him. He started for the door, then thought better of it and backtracked to the bar, reaching across and grabbing a clean tumbler to take to his room with him.

He had to dodge a bunch of drunk people on his way back, causing him to veer off course until he was damn near on the other side of the room.

It wasn’t so much that he saw her as he felt her presence. His head lifted and his eyes somehow went straight to her despite the dozen or so people between him and the table she was seated at. Without making a conscious decision, his body angled in her direction, and he made his way over to her, reminding himself the whole way that he didn’t get involved with coworkers.

#cordonianroyalairlines #trr au #the royal romance #drake x mc #drake walker #liam rys #maxwell beaumont #liam x max #christmas 2023 #drake x riley #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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kristinamae093 · 10 months

Text

Ghosted

Ghosted - The Apple Banquet (Chapter 7)

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

A/N1 - 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

The Apple Banquet was set to begin inside the ballroom of the Applewood Estate momentarily. The entire country was excited, as it was the first one to take place since Constantine wed Regina. All of the nobility gathered to witness the bride and groom share an apple from the year’s first harvest before the wedding.

The wedding, Liam scoffed at the thought. After they found all of Riley’s things a few days ago, he completely changed his view point on the scandal and her disappearance. He spent all this time believing she left to be with someone else, but he began to see the situation from a different light.

It seems the more he learns about Riley’s last night here, the more he believes she was forced away.

Liam learned of Riley retiring early from Maxwell, so they had a solid timeframe where someone could have gotten her out of the estate undetected and the maid to pack and move her things. He felt a sense of relief when the maid reiterated that she was not seen leaving with Tariq, but another man. Of course, he wished she would have been able to identify the unknown person, but in a way, his heart swelled knowing she didn’t leave with Tariq, although it opened a world of other unanswered questions.

Bastien had been searching for Tariq and Riley but had no luck in locating either thus far. The last trace of Riley was landing from her flight in New York, the morning after the Country Jamboree. From there, her trail runs cold. There was no trace of Tariq after his arrival to Applewood whatsoever; there wasn’t even a record of a car coming to pick him up from the estate that night. They had both simply vanished into thin air, like a ghost.

Without either of them, Liam was clueless as to how to proceed further. The few clues they had were just that, clues. There was nothing prominent enough to place blame anywhere. Riley's room had been cleared, not a trace to be found. Nothing was spotted outside, no predominant leads were found in the shed, aside from the dress and the piece of mail. Much to everyone's dismay, Bastien confirmed that he disposed of Riley's phone and the letter left in the room, so no comparison could be done. Liam took blame for everything and felt helpless, there was nothing more he could do; but he felt he had to put on his Kingly facade and continue as if nothing was amiss, at least for the time being.

However, Liam felt the time constricting on him. He was set to marry Madeleine in just a few short weeks, and he didn’t have a clue as to what he was going to do about that. Although he knew it was his duty to marry and produce heirs, he didn’t know if he could marry Madeleine just to appease the nobility, especially now that he knew someone potentially plotted to put her on the throne.

More than that, after they found Riley’s bloodied dress, Liam felt a renewed sense of urgency about locating her; he needed to see that she was unharmed. Of course he wanted nothing more than to hopefully bring her back and ultimately make her his Queen, but he didn’t want to get too far ahead of himself. Just seeing with his own two eyes that she is okay would suffice him, although it would break his heart all over again.

As Liam stood on the dias next to Madeleine greeting all of the court’s nobles, he couldn’t help but look at everyone as if they were a suspect. Although the maid said she saw Riley with a man in a suit, every single person there could have benefitted from getting rid of her; he was aware of the fact that Riley was a commoner and not everyone would be okay with having her as a Queen. Furthermore, Liam was sure it was a hired person who escorted Riley away; he knew his nobles were not stupid, but conniving and malicious. They wouldn’t risk getting their hands dirty, especially with something of that magnitude considering she would have been his selection. That meant the suspect list was open to all of the nobility at this point.

“Liam? Are you even listening to me?!” Madeleine snapped.

“No, I’m not.” Liam retorted. He realized the other nobles were lining up behind the double doors, a sure signal that they were about to be announced into the ballroom with his Father and Regina at the head. He turned away from Madeleine and headed toward the line of people. He took his position in the back of the procession, as tradition dictated. He squared his shoulders, stood to his full height, and waited.

“Penelope!” Madeleine snapped her fingers. “My train!”

Liam silently scoffed as he watched Penelope scurry over and take position behind Madeleine. He saw her struggling to keep up with Madeleine’s pace, but she never once let that train touch the ground.

As they reached Liam’s position, Madeleine shooed Penelope away before she turned to Liam. “Cute. I don’t know what your deal is but you need to knock it off.”

“Or what?” Liam snapped as he turned to face her.

“I’m sure I can think of something.”

“Are you threatening me?”

Madeleine indignantly laughed. “No, darling, whatever would make you think that?” She feigned innocence.

Liam stepped closer to her and lowered his voice to where only she could hear. “I told you, I'm not playing whatever game it is that you are trying to play. You'd do well to remember that you are not the Queen, not yet… I hold that power, so I would advise you to tread carefully, Countess.” He hissed through clenched teeth.

Liam found himself on edge; he was not in the mood to deal with Madeleine, or anyone else for that matter. This is the last place he wanted to be, and he was not about to let Madeleine try and boss him around or assert whatever dominance she thought she held over him.

Liam stood back up and adjusted his lapels. Madeleine’s face turned a hundred shades of crimson, but she returned her attention to the line in front of her. She attempted to thread her arm through Liam’s, but he pulled away. At a nod from the herald, the doors swung open and Liam strode inside with Madeleine walking closely beside him.

They were led by a servant to a banquet table adorned with a white lace tablecloth. A wooden stand sat in the middle of the table with a bright red cordonian ruby sitting atop it, beside the apple was a knife with a black handle and gold trim.

Liam took his position behind the table next to Madeleine and directed his attention to his father, who had taken place in front of the table with a champagne flute of cider in hand.

"The sharing of a Cordonian ruby dates back to the times of King Fabian. At that time, the King and Queen would not share cake when they wed, but instead a Cordonian ruby. The monarchy has since modernized, but this tradition is to honor those who have paved the way before us.

We gather here today to celebrate not only another year's bountiful harvest, but the matrimony that these two will share. Although no vows will be exchanged here today, the symbolism remains the same."

Constantine stopped his speech as applause filled the air. He waited for a few moments before he raised his hand to quiet the crowd and continued. "We have a bright future ahead of us as a country. I have no doubt in my mind that these two will lead us with distinction and grace, just as the Kings and Queens before them. We will not only thrive under their rule, but prosper." He lifted his glass in the air. "To King Liam and our soon to be Queen, Countess Madeleine."

The crowd all raised their glasses and echoed the former King's sentiments. Liam and Madeleine then each cut a slice from the apple and ate it to complete the needless ceremony. Liam grew up loving the Cordonian ruby and was incredibly proud of his heritage, but that particular apple tasted incredibly tart and bitter. It took all of his willpower not to scrunch his face as the tangy, sour flavor overcame his taste buds.

Liam was forced to stand for photographs with Madeleine before he could take a moment for himself. He didn't smile, but instead just started blankly into space past the camera. Madeleine was positioned at a slight angle in front of him and he made it a point to put as much space between them as he could and still get a 'natural’ looking portrait.

Once pictures were finished, Liam made a beeline for the bar and ordered himself a scotch on the rocks; he needed something to calm his dangerously high stress levels. As his drink was delivered to him, he felt a hand on his back. He turned around to find Drake. “How you holding up?”

“I’m not, Drake. I haven’t slept, I don’t want to be here. I need to be looking for them, for her; I have to find her.” Liam said before he downed his drink in one gulp and motioned to the bartender for another.

Drake stepped forward and signaled for a whiskey as the bartender refilled Liam’s glass. As he waited he addressed Liam. “I know this is hard on you especially. But, for now, you gotta just play along. Make ‘em think you’re really gonna go through with the wedding.”

“It's just around the corner. There's not a lot of time…”

“Don’t think about that. Right now, our focus is this investigation. We just need a little bit more to go off of, and we’re going to find it, Li. However, that means you gotta pretened to be a pretentious stick in the mud to appease all these ass wipes for a little bit…” Drake smirked as he took a sip from his drink and looked around the room.

Liam half-laughed. “I know you’re right. This is the best option, at least for now.” He shook his head and looked into his drink. “I’m just having a hard time being diplomatic when I know that someone very likely in this room is responsible for hurting the woman I love.”

Drake patted Liam on the back. “I know. But, just think, when all this is said and done and we figure out who did this, you’re gonna get to go full blown King on that mutherfucker! Goddamn I can’t wait for that!” Drake exclaimed with a huge smile on his face.

Liam laughed, for real this time. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy, even when I got you that international whiskey subscription for your birthday.”

“Man, I should order another one of those, that Hakushu Single Malt was to die for.” Drake responded as he took a drink of the whiskey in his hand, imagining it was the japanese liquor.

“Maybe when this is all said and done I can get you a whole case of that.” Liam chuckled when Drake’s eyes widened, but he soon sighed and looked out at the crowd in front of them. “I suppose I should circulate the room, pretend I want to be here. But thank you for lifting my spirits.”

“What I’m here for.” Drake replied as he lifted his glass to Liam, who returned the gesture and downed a large drink after. Liam shook his hand before he turned and made his way through the crowded room.

As he turned away, Liam saw some lesser nobles and the suitors he hadn’t chosen, minus Olivia, who was not yet joining the tour officially. At first glance, he noticed Lady Hana was not present. He was unsure if an invitation had been extended or not, but made a mental note to find out. He shook his head and looked away as he observed Penelope dabbing Madeleine’s mouth with a napkin. She trailed behind holding her drink, even going as far as bringing the glass to Madeleine's lips.

Liam continued through the room, stopping on occasion to shake a hand and exchange pleasantries. He spotted his Father and Regina as they glided throughout the ballroom together. Even though Constantine hadn’t been given much time to live, he insisted on being present throughout the tour. Liam told him he didn’t need to accompany them on the entire route, but Constantine was stubborn and was outside with everyone else when it was time for the motorcade to leave the capitol.

As Liam made his way to the other side of the room, he noticed Bertrand and Maxwell in a secluded alcove. Bertrand waved his finger in Maxwell’s face and Maxwell had his gaze trained to the floor in front of him. Bertrand’s body was turned slightly away from Liam, but he could still see his reddened face and it appeared he spoke so fast he hadn't even stopped for a breath.

Liam decided he needed to intervene and walked toward the pair. He cleared his throat as he approached them. Bertrand turned with wide eyes and bowed to Liam.

“Is everything alright?” Liam asked.

“Oh, yes, of course Your Majesty. We were just discussing House business.” Bertrand replied as he slid his eyes over to Maxwell with an irritated expression.

“That’s not what appeared to be happening. It looks as though you were once again berating Maxwell when I specifically told you to lay off of him.”

“I understand that. However, I learned today from a potential business partner that Maxwell left the estate when he should have been awaiting their call! We didn't secure that deal because he decided he had something more important to do!” Bertrand exasperated as he kept his steely gaze trained on Maxwell.

Maxwell finally looked up to meet eyes with Liam. Liam knew that Maxwell snuck away from the estate to meet Drake and Olivia before the tour started; he also knew that Maxwell had not told Bertrand about their investigation, per Liam's request. Instead, he continued to let Bertrand berate him and place blame on him for their houses' tanked reputation and financial crisis.

What Liam saw in Maxwell’s gaze was complete devastation, he knew judging from his defeated expression he was starting to break. And Liam couldn’t blame him, he had put up with Bertrand's rants daily for months.

Although Liam wasn’t entirely sure if he should, he couldn’t bear to watch his friend be torn down to nothing and let it happen; it was time to set Bertrand straight.

Bertrand began again. “He’s continuously shown his irresponsibility! You can’t pick a suitor, you can’t answer a phone, what can you do, then?! I am this close to–”

“Enough.” Liam said in a quiet but stern tone as he held up his hand to stop Bertrand from his tirade.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, I forget myself–”

“No. You are not going to berate Maxwell any longer as if this is his fault: it is not. As far as him missing your 'important' phone call, I happen to know where he was and who he was with, and that meeting was far more important, I assure you.” Liam bit out.

Bertrand grew confused. “What? I don’t understand, what meeting? Why didn’t you tell me about this meeting?” He asked Maxwell.

“I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone…” Maxwell quietly answered, avoiding eye contact.

“What does that even mean?!”

Liam quickly looked behind him to the crowded ballroom and decided it was too risky to talk there. He motioned for Maxwell and Bertrand to follow him and led them down a hallway close by. He stopped at a nondescript door and ushered them inside.

As he faced them, Liam addressed Bertrand, specifically. “Duke Beaumont, I’d first off like to say that you should be ashamed of how you’ve treated Maxwell as of recent. Let's not forget, you didn’t even select a suitor to begin with.”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty–”

Liam held up his hand to stop him. “I’m not interested in your excuses, nor your apologies. Those are not meant for me, anyway.” Liam looked to Maxwell with a sad expression, then back to Bertrand. “I just wanted you to understand that your King is incredibly disappointed in your horrific behavior, which you had no reason for.”

“No reason?! Sir, I have every reason to be upset! Maxwell brought that… that… harlot here and she–”

“You are two seconds away from finding yourself in the cells. I know you don’t know the truth, but I’d advise you to watch your tone.” Liam hissed through clenched teeth.

“The truth? What truth is there to know? We all know what happened–”

“I have officially opened an investigation into Lady Riley’s disappearance.”

Bertrand’s eyes bulged from the sockets. “D-Disapperance?!”

Liam told Bertrand about what they had learned so far and where they were at with the investigation, as well as his suspicions of Riley being forced to leave. He told him about the shed they found, as well as the bloodied dress and letter inside.

When Liam was finished, he and Maxwell watched as Bertrand slowly walked over to a chair and sunk himself down into it. He clasped his hands together and stared in front of him for a long while. Liam and Maxwell didn’t say a word, just observed as a plethora of emotions crossed Bertrand’s features.

Finally, Bertrand spoke. He kept his gaze to the floor in front of him, “So… she was set up?” he whispered.

“We believe so, yes.” Liam answered.

Bertrand broke into sobs. Maxwell quickly crossed the room and crouched in front of Bertrand. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but we’re going to figure this out! We’re going to fix this!” Maxwell promised him as tears of his own streamed down his face.

Bertrand shook his head and looked away from Maxwell. “While I’m upset she was set up, I’m mostly ashamed of how I’ve treated you since... I’ve blamed you and berated you this whole time, and you were never at fault. You never once challenged me in all the atrocious things I said about you, you just… allowed me to do it…” He tried to swallow the overwhelming lump in his throat and quietly asked, “Did you know about Lady Riley? This whole time?”

Maxwell shook his head and quietly responded, “I only found out before the tour, although I will admit I didn’t know when I snuck out.” He looked away. “I had my doubts about it though… But you were so mad at me and I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“Maxwell… I-I’m so sorry...” Bertrand shook his head as more tears flowed down his cheeks. “You didn’t deserve any of that treatment. I can’t believe I’ve acted this way…”

Maxwell inched closer. “It’s okay, Bertrand!”

“No, it’s not okay. I treated you so… maliciously, as if you weren’t my own flesh and blood.” Bertrand wiped at his cheeks and looked Maxwell directly in the eye. “I’ll never forgive myself.”

Maxwell leaned forward and embraced Bertrand; he squeezed him as tight as he could. Even though Maxwell was still indeed hurt from Bertrand’s harsh words, he didn’t want to see him beat himself up over it. All he wanted to do was to move forward and put this entire mess behind them. Ultimately, all Maxwell wanted was to clear his best friend’s name and bring her home to make the family complete again.

“I love you Bertrand, and if I forgive you, you have to forgive yourself. You’ve been under so much pressure since Dad got sick, and I know I’ve always added to your problems. And then to lose our suitor at the very end of the season…” Maxwell took a deep breath to steady himself and continued. “You were under a lot of stress, and it was technically my fault for bringing her here to begin with, so…”

“No.” Bertrand firmly said as he pulled himself from Maxwell’s embrace, “You are not to blame here whatsoever Maxwell… In fact, I may be more at fault here than you..." He took a deep breath and quietly said, "I – I'm afraid I may need to come clean about something…"

Maxwell immediately moved and stood next to Liam with a furrowed brow. Liam felt his heart rate increase and stepped forward instantly. "What do you mean?"

"I – I worry you may find out anyway during your investigation, and I feel after my other atrocious actions I may as well come clean and take my punishment."

Bertrand was suddenly yanked up from his seat by Liam's strong hands. Liam held Bertrand by the collar of his sweater and pulled his face to eye level, nearly lifting him off his feet. "What did you do?"

Maxwell stepped forward to intervene, but Bertrand held a hand out to stop him. As he spoke, his eyes never left Liam's steely gaze. "Don't. I deserve whatever may come." He took a deep breath and told them about going through Maxwell’s phone and selling the photos from Liam's bachelor party. Bertrand realized if Liam found out on his own, his fate would be ten times worse than whatever he would be facing now. To hopefully spare himself, he was willing to come clean.

The longer Bertrand spoke, the more Maxwell's shock intensified; he couldn't believe Bertrand stooped so low. Liam saw red; he yanked Bertrand closer and growled, "You fucking snake."

"I understand your anger, sir–"

"Did you do it? Did you set her up?" Liam slightly shook Bertrand. "Did you force her to leave?!"

Bertrand's eyes widened once more. "No! My indiscretions were toward the beginning of the social season, and I changed my view on her! I believed in her until–"

"Why? Why do it then?!" Liam shook Bertrand harder, audibly tearing his vest in the process, but Liam was quick to bunch up more fabric to keep his hold intact.

"I assumed she wouldn't last and I was desperate for the money." Bertrand quickly spat out.

"So you not only sold your suitor out, but you sold me out as well? For profit?" Bertrand didn't respond, only nodded his head with shame etched in his features.

At that moment, every single thing that happened over the past couple of days combined with this newly added betrayal sent Liam overboard. He tightened his grip on Bertrand’s vest and pulled, ripping it down the middle with ease and leaving it dangling like the jacket over it. Bertrand stumbled backwards but was given no time to react before a fist connected with his jaw, the popping sound echoing throughout the room. Bertrand dropped to the floor with a yelp cradling his face as he frantically prepared himself for the next blow. Maxwell wanted to help, but he was frozen in fear at seeing the look of pure rage in Liam's features.

Liam stared down at Bertrand through narrowed eyes with heavy breaths. "Your actions are making me question whether or not you are truly fit for the title of Duke. To not only exploit your suitor, but your future King?" He stalked toward Bertrand, who was scooting backward across the floor.

The moment was interrupted by a stern knock. Without notice the door swung open and Bastien rushed inside. He quickly approached Liam and said, “Sir, we need to get you to the safe room, now.” and placed his hand on him to begin leading him away.

“What, why?!” Liam questioned as he attempted to evade Bastien’s grip.

“There’s been a body found.”

Liam forcefully stomped his feet on the ground. “What?! Do you know who it was? What happened?”

“Sir, I don’t know a lot of information right now, but I have to get you to safety before I can go secure the area.”

“Where was it?”

Bastien remained silent for a long moment. He looked as if he didn’t want to answer, but once he saw Liam’s budding impatience he finally spoke. “The west grounds, sir.”

While Liam was locked away in the guarded safe room with Madeleine, her parents, Constantine and Regina, Olivia and Drake were on their way to examine the crime scene with Bastien. The royal family had a secured area inside all the major estates for this purpose, although houses were available nearby. However, those were only used in drastic scenarios such as terrorist threats or assassination attempts. Since there was no signs someone was attempting to target the nobility, Bastien assured them they would be safe there while he and the guard did an initial investigation.

Olivia was not yet ready to join the tour on an official standpoint. She knew the time would come when she would have to, but right now she was only stalking in the shadows looking for any kind of information. Only a select few knew of her presence and she intended to keep it that way until absolutely necessary.

Olivia went back and searched Riley’s room again to ensure nothing was missed and returned to the shed to retrieve the contaminated dress. As her initial shock faded, she realized that was a prominent clue laying right in front of their faces. She went back and grabbed the article at the start of the Apple Banquet while everyone was distracted. She intended to give the item to Bastien, but when he found her and informed her of the crime committed she sprung into action and followed along, the dress momentarily forgotten.

As they walked along the path she immediately realized where they were headed; the shed she had visited just a few hours prior where Riley's things were hidden. From the front, everything appeared as it was when Olivia visited the area. Her anxiety increased as Bastien approached the structure, but he veered to the left and led them to the back, which she was nowhere near during her earlier venture.

Guards scoured all around, some people in lab coats were taking pictures, multiple evidence markers lay on the ground near the area. As her eyes searched over the vicinity, she couldn’t help but feel like it seemed incredibly – tame, for what she was guessing had happened.

Propped against the back wall of the shed was a lifeless body. Upon first glance, the cause of death was undoubtedly clear; the victim's throat had been slashed nearly from ear to ear. Olivia grew up around weapons and knew exactly what kind of damage her skills could do. As she gazed upon the gruesome gash, she immediately knew that wound was deep and absolutely intentional; whoever did this did not hesitate whatsoever. Furthermore, the face was severely battered; both eyes were swollen shut and painted every shade of black, as well as a severely broken nose. She stared at the battered face for only a moment before a small gasp escaped Olivia as recognition swept over her; it was the maid they had spoken with only a few days prior.

Olivia’s widened eyes traveled down the body and she was unable to tell if there could be more wounds on the maid’s chest and abdomen, or if the coat of blood was due to her fatal injury. However, that’s where Olivia’s suspicions sky rocketed; the body was covered in a heavy layer of blood, but the ground around her had nothing.

“Walker, come here.” Olivia beckoned. Drake walked over to her with furrowed brows as Olivia stood. “Tell me I’m crazy, but there’s absolutely no blood around that body.”

“Huh…” Drake answered as he looked around. “You’re right. Hey Bas!” He hollered over his shoulder. Bastien appeared within an instant with a pen and pad in hand. “Have you noticed how there’s no blood here?”

“Hmm…” Bastien glanced down at the area with an unreadable expression before he nodded and wrote something down. “I’ve added it to my notes. Do be sure to let me know if you notice anything else. The more information we have, the sooner we can find an answer.”

“Are we just going to ignore the gigantic elephant in the room?" Olivia motioned to the shed. “This is no coincidence. Who this is, where she’s at, the fact that I'm certain this body was placed here specifically…”

Drake’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Holy shit–”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “I’m going to start charging if I have to keep spelling everything out for you.”

Bastien spoke before Drake could retort, “I hadn’t made that connection; excellent work Duchess.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow and watched Bastien jot something yet again on his pad. “Okay, him I understand needing a preschool explanation, you on the other hand should’ve made that connection instantly.” She snapped as she continued to eye him critically.

Bastien was slightly taken back, but quickly recovered himself. “I understand your frustration. However, I’m becoming aware of developments at the same rate as you. I’m grateful for your assistance.” He bowed to her. As he stood he addressed the pair, “I’m going to secure the perimeter.”

Olivia watched him leave with narrowed eyes. He went over to a guard and spoke quietly then aimlessly walked around the area. Every now and again he would write something down, but otherwise he only made laps. She knew Bastien was senseless at times, but he almost seemed more so than normal.

For the first time, she took a good look around and again couldn’t help but notice how everything seemed conveniently placed. The yellow evidence markers were almost in a straight line in clustered areas. She approached one and bent down to observe and saw it was a wad of hair; not one single hair, a bunched up ball of long, dark hair. Another was simply a piece of gum; she was no criminal mastermind, but who in their right mind would spit their gum out in the middle of a vicious murder? Of course, it’s possible to be unrelated, but this area was practically of no use; that is until Riley’s things were shoved here. Regardless, Bastien still continued to search the area as if this was a normal crime scene and nothing was amiss.

As she scanned the area, the sudden realization of what was going on on a broader spectrum hit her; whoever orchestrated getting Madeleine on the throne was surely onto the fact that they were now asking questions. It was a silent agreement that whoever managed to remove the top two suitors from the social season was a powerful force, but it suddenly seemed much stronger and deadlier than before. This entire scene was pieced together to send a message; someone knew, and whoever it was was not happy about their venture for answers.

Olivia pulled Drake aside and spoke in a low, cautious tone. “We need to get out of here.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Look around, Drake! Even you have to notice something does not add up! This was fucking staged – someone is trying to send us a message.”

“We gotta tell Bas–”

“Why? So he can write it down?” Olivia rolled her eyes. “We need to plan our next steps… our next move has to be calculated.” She looked around with a nervous expression. As she did, her eyes landed on Bastien who simply nodded and returned to his grazing.

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