#gonna bind tomorrow for an event and like that's always an ordeal i wanna get mentally prepared lmao

[embers-burning-bright]

overcaffinated today for the first time in months, years even lol. whoops

[littleredroseonthevalley]

Red Rose - Chapter 2

Prologue Ch. 1 CH. 2  Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 Ch. 10  Ch. 11 Ch. 12 Ch. 13 Ch. 14 Ch. 15 Ch. 16 Ch. 15 Ch. 16

Summary: In a bind, Riley is forced to make a thoughtless choice. Drake remembers someone long forgotten.

Rating: T - Content not suitable for children.  Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with minor suggestive adult themes.

Notes: Hi, everybody! How are you feeling this Monday? I had planned to thank personally everybody who liked and reblogged last chapter, but with my ILITW rant last Tuesday (which you can read here), the likes and reblogs got mixed up and I lost track of people. So, thank y’all!

(I’m still mad about ILITW, btw)

As I said earlier today, I’m trying this new thing with pictures. Think of them as a still of a significant moment of the chapter, with the line written underneath. Tell me if you like them, if you hate them or if you don’t think nothing about them at all, my ask is open!

More new content is to be released tomorrow, so stay tuned!

Vienna, Fall 2005

The classes were finally finished in the university. The students were slowly but surely abandoning their hermit-like study abodes and again joining their friends in the celebration of a job, if not well-, at least done.

Drake Walker, like any other student, was certainly overjoyed to be free of classes, even if it meant going back home. 

He could hear himself thinking that, and he knew how weird it sounded like. The truth was, while he certainly missed his sister, facing his mother is always an ordeal.

He supposed he missed Liam, too, he weighed. Even though, his geographic location is meaningless in that front. He can be in Vienna, Avlona or Beijing, the odds are he won’t be able to see his best friend.

No time to think about those things now, he told himself, it was a party. One he wasn’t all that thrilled to attend, to be fair, but he forced himself to come to them every once in a while, to get the guys from his hall off his back about it.

The end-of-year one seemed the most appropriate.

One thing he really missed from the Brigades was the alcohol. Pouring himself another drink, cheap beer, he leant against the wall and observed the people dancing around him. A couple of his friends called him into the dancefloor, but he motioned his drink.

A couple minutes in, the lights dimmed, the people cleared space in the middle of the living room of the apartment, a makeshift dancefloor. Gwen Stefani’s voice sounded through the speakers.

Ooh this my shit

All the girls stamp your feet like this

Few times I've been around that track

So it's not just gonna happen like that

'Cause I ain't no hollaback girl

I ain't no hollaback girl

Two girls, a blonde and a red-head, do a seemingly-carefully rehearsed choreography. The crowd goes wild with their bold moves and synchrony.

As they finish, grandiose, their spectators warmly applaud their number. Drake, however, scoffs. He finds those girls to be just a pair of attention-starved wenches, and he’s seen plenty of them back in Cordonia.

As he finished yet another cup of beer, someone calls for his attention. “Hey, Grinch.” It was the red-head from before. “Why all that brooding?”

He sneered. “I’m not brooding.”

“Yes, you are. And it’s killing the party’s vibe.” She said, crossing her arms on her chest.

God, he hates redheads. Between this loser and Olivia, he was pretty sure the only reason they existed was to annoy him. “I don’t care much for dancing.”

“So far, you’ve only given me reason to bet you don’t care much for fun at all!”

Slightly crossed, Drake said: “No need to look like an idiot to have fun.”

“No need to be an ass, either.” He seemed to go and say something, but she beat him to it. “Hey, What’s-Your-Face…”

“Drake, the name’s Drake.”

“Linda Rosa, charmed.” She made a flaunt with her hair and used an extra-snotty tone. “I bet you I can make you have fun tonight.”

He laughed, half of the absurdity of the idea, half of the arrogance of the redhead. “Oh, yeah? What you have for me?”

“Considering your disgruntled face every time you put your cup into your mouth, I’d say you’re a man of fine tastes in alcohol.” She told him, mockingly. “I have a bottle of the finest scotch you’ll find on this town in my bag. Tell you what, do as I say and make a sincere attempt of enjoying yourself tonight. If you still wanna leave in fifteen minutes, you can go home with it.”

“Fifteen minutes?” Drake lifted an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“You’re on, Linda Rosa.”

She pulled him to the dancefloor.

 In the next morning, he woke up with a pounding headache, most likely a killer hangover. Yet, he felt numbly happy.

Never one was happier to lose a bet before, he was sure.

An amused thought passed through his head, about how he should check himself on a clinic, to see if that girl put something on his drink. Certainly it was out of character for him to behave like that. Even when drunk.

As he got up and dressed, he walked to his front door, to check for mail. In there, it was a bottle of booze with a note stuck on it.

“I never told you what I’d get if I won the bet. I got a good companion and a nice time. To thank you for your sportsmanship, enjoy this whiskey. ~Linda Rosa”

Out of character it might be, but, Drake decided, sometimes it was nice to act uncharacteristically.

New York City, Fall 2015

“I’ll be back for you in the morning.” He had said. “Don’t even try to escape. We have you watched. It’s time for you to come back.”

Riley hasn’t slept at all. She was at her wit’s end. All night she thought of a plan, but anything she could come up with seemed fit to ease her escape. She was starting to believe she had to face reality, she would have to return.

Her most precious belongings were already packed. The only important thing left was hung, majestic, on the wall. The thought of putting it down brought tears to her eyes, but it had to be done.

She was motioning to get the job done when she heard a knock on her front door.

“Riley?” A voice she couldn’t quite place called from the other side. “Are you there?”

“Who is it?” She shakily asked the stranger.

“It’s Maxwell, from last night!” The cheery tone quelled her angst.

Quick on her feet, Riley opened the door and motioned for him and, surprisingly, Drake to come inside.

Not waiting for her to inquire, Maxwell jumped to talking. “We’re heading back to Cordonia, so Liam can find someone to marry and all that jazz. But, before I go, I’d like to invite you to join us!”

“Come again?” Riley asked, in shock.

“Sorry, was I speaking too fast? My brother says I do that sometimes.”

He definitively was, but that was not the case in point. “No, I mean, what do you mean me going off to Cordonia with you?”

He frowned, confused. “Well, that. What’s so strange about it?”

Drake rolled his eyes, but did not say a thing.

“God, sweetie, don’t open that door.” Riley thought, and then outloud answered: “Lots of stuff, but mainly ‘what for would I go to Cordonia’?”

“To compete for Liam’s hand, of course! Didn’t you know about how things work up there?”

“Liam kinda explained to me last night.”

“There you go! You wouldn’t normally be able to join, but I want to sponsor you!”

“Sponsor me? Maxwell, I don’t seem to understand.”

“I’m from a noble family, but I don’t have any sisters, so we don’t have anyone in the competition for the prince’s hand. So, we can choose any girl, and you’re my pick!”

“You want me to compete in a The Bachelor-like event to marry Liam?” She asked, incredulously. “What is in for you?”

“If you accept, you’ll owe me three boons, each favor fraught with more peril than the last.”

“Now, seriously, please.”

“I’m just trying to help you out, Riley.” He said earnestly. “We’re kinda crunched for time, though. I’ve got a plane leaving within the hour, so no time to waste! The Masquerade, which opens the event, is tomorrow night!”

“So…” She breathed out. “A fancy Masquerade… And what else?”

“Fun stuff! Yachting in the Adriatic, skiing in the mountains, dancing in the Royal Palace… Or, y’know, you could just stay in New York. Go back to your gig, with your crappy boss. Sure, is just as good.”

Of course, staying in New York wasn’t an option anymore. The man from last night was taxative when he told her they would be leaving. While everything this man was spewing seemed insanity, he was, right now, her best chance of escape, so perhaps she should explore the possibility.

“Okay, okay, you got me. Anything if I can be as far away from Frank as possible.” She smiled. “But we have a problem, my passport is expired. They won’t let me leave.”

They weren’t the US Immigration, not that Maxwell needed to know.

“No problem-o!” Maxwell said, excited. “We have diplomatic passports and a private plane on a US Air Force base. We can get you out of the country. When we get to Cordonia, Tariq’s friends with the American consul, he can get you a new passport.”

Diplomatic passports and airplane on a Air Force base meant undetectable traveling. Even with all their resources, they couldn’t know she left the city, much less where she went.

“If that’s so… I’m in!”

“Yeah! Go pack your bags.” If only he knew. “This is going to be the adventure of a lifetime!”

She went back to her room and shoved all her dresses and perfumes into three huge bags, in addition with the trunk containing her valuables. She made a point to leave most of her regular clothing and shoes in her wardrobe, as to, when the guy from last night comes back to fetch her, he’ll think she intends to come back shortly.

All done with the packing, she came back to the living room, where Maxwell could not be seen. Drake, however, was watching intensely the painting on her wall.

“Hey, Drake,” He jumped, surprised. “What are you looking at?”

“This painting.” He said.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I’ve bought in a trip once. It’s…”

He cut her off. “Hagia Sophia. Yeah.”

She waited for a second, and then said: “Where’s Maxwell?”

“He went out to call a cab.”

“Oh” Riley said. “Could you help me? The bags are kinda heavy…”

He hmphed, but followed her into her room. “Jesus, Riley. Don’t you know the concept of travelling lightly?”

“It’s not like I know the climate in Cordonia, the occasions I’ll be needing clothes or even how long I’ll stay out!” She defended, in a snarky tone.

Drake was about to reply when Maxwell came back, announcing their cab has arrived.

Once a few thousand feet from the ground, flying through Sicily and Tunisia, Maxwell finally said: “Say goodbye to New York and hello to Cordonia!”, making a point out of the flare in which he said ‘Cordonia’.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening.” She couldn’t believe she escaped.

“Believe it.” Drake bite. “We’ll be landing soon, ready or not. And if you’re not ready, those ladies at court are gonna eat you alive.”

“Jesus, Drake! Don’t scare her!” Maxwell chastised.

“They should be afraid of me, Drake.” Riley answered.

“Cocky.” He answered with a side smile. “You might actually survive.”

She shrugged. “I don’t get why are you being so grim about, that’s all.”

“Look,” He said. “No offense, but I’ve seen girls like you come and go. It never ends well. Not for you, not for Liam, not for the royal family.”

Maxwell saw a point into defending her honor: “Riley’s not some crown-chaser!”

God knows how much that statement is true. “To be fair, Drake, you’re more my type of guy.” He scoffed at her, which flared her with white rage. Not one to betray it, she calmly said: “I mean it. I don’t usually go for rich boys, much less royalty.”

As she finished her sentence, Maxwell tells her they were approaching the Cordonian capital city.

As she looked out the window, she breathed “It’s something out of a fairy tale…”

“If you burst into song, I’m jumping out of this plane.”

“The window is open!/So's that door!/I didn't know they did that anymore!/Who knew we owned eight thousand salad plates?” Riley sung the first cartoon song that came to mind. Soon enough, Maxwell accompanied her: “For years I've roamed these empty halls/Why have a ballroom with no balls?/Finally they're opening up the gates!”

Drake groaned.

“So, Riley!” Maxwell wondered. “Are. You. READY?!”

“Heck yeah!”

Argyrocastron, Cordonia, Fall 2015

As they were going out of the plane, she noticed a sign off the airstrip.

Αεροδρόμιο Αυλωνά

Aéroport de Vallonna

Avlona International Airport

“Those are the official languages in Cordonia.” Drake surprised her from behind. “Greek and French.”

“Oh, right!” Maxwell was reminded of something. “Do you speak French?”

“Mais oui, Maxwell. Parfaitement.”

Drake scoffed. “How about Greek?”

“Fysiká!” She said, smugly. “Ézisa me mia ellinikí oikogéneia ótan píga sti Néa Yórki.”

“Say what?” Maxwell inquired in French. “You’ll have to repeat that for me.”

“I said,” Riley explained, also in French. “I lived with a Greek family when I moved to New York. I’m fluent in Greek too.”

Drake was close to a pout, having failed into busting her. Maxwell is more amendable. “Forgive Drake. Greek and French are taught in schools in Cordonia, but I guess you’ll be using more French, most nobles don’t speak Greek.”

“So, he was just out to get me?”

“Yeah, that sums it up.”

“Jerk.”

New York City, Fall 2015

“What do you mean you’ve lost her?!” The voice screeched on the phone.

“I’m most sorry, but…” He tried to explain himself, but was soon cut off.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it!” The word ‘sorry’ was spit out like it tasted foul. “Haven’t we explained to you how vital is this assignment, or do you just not understand what we tell you to do?!”

“I do understand.” He said, tersely. “And she did escape from me, but all her clothes and cash are still in the apartment.”

“She has her means, you moron!”

“No, no, wait!” He grew nervous. “The painting! The painting is still here!”

There was a short silence on the line.

“Is it?” They said, finally.

“Yes. Yes, it is.” He breathed relieved. “We are monitoring all the airports, bus lines and ships coming in and out of the tri-state area. She won’t be able to leave or to return without our knowledge.”

“Yes… I suppose that is for the best.” The voice conceded. “Leave the underlings in New York and come back. We need to regroup. Bring the painting, with the utmost care.”

The line went dead.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Avlona, Cordonia, Fall 2015

The hour or so of roads down the hills to get to Cordonia’s capital city were uneventful. Maxwell excitedly commented the songs playing on the car’s radio, while Drake brooded.

Riley gave limited attention to Maxwell’s antics, as she worried about the next few months.

As they got closer and closer to the shore, the temperature rose. Up in the airport, it was cooler than New York, the skies were gray, and she heard a Grecian couple talk about the possibility of a hoar-frost that evening. The suburbs of Cordonia’s capital, though, seemed to be living in an eternal summer. The people on the street were scantily-clad, as to resist the heat coming from the pavement, the sun was shining, no sign of rain, much less a frost, on the skies.

“Maxwell,” Riley interrupted his tirade about a rather unknown singer to her.

“Et tous les bourgeois du 16ème/Se demandent pourquoi je t'aime/Pour n'avoir pas besoin d'un zoom/Quand toi et moi on fait boum boum boum,” He sung, not really hearing her.

“Maxwell!” She called a little louder.

“Hm? Oh, yes Riley?”

“Why is so hot in here?” She asked. “Aren’t we in the middle of autumn?”

Drake laughed cruelly. “It is never cold out here. We go to the beach on Christmas.”

“Really?!” She asked, somewhat surprised.

“Not really,” Maxwell corrected. “It gets a little cold on December, but Drake’s right. You won’t be seeing snow in Valona.”

“That’s kinda odd…” Riley said. “Dunno, I guess I’m used to cold weather.”

Maxwell laughed. “You will get plenty cold when we go up the mountains. People say that in Lythikos is never sunny!”

Drake smirked, while Riley pretended she knew where Lythikos was.

They took a turn into a modern city area, with tall, glassy skyscrapers into a residential area, with classy, ancient buildings. Soon enough, they were going up once again, through a wide avenue decorated with flowers. The streets were full of people, though with few cars. There were lots of flags, too, which she assumed was the Cordonian national flag.

The densely built avenue suddenly gave place to a wooden area. As they made a curve to the left, she saw a tall wall and a strongly guarded gate.

Behind all that, there was still a long road and lots of trees, but she could see, glistening on the horizon, the pavilion. It was the Palace of the Brigades, her memory provided. The hill in which Napoleon and the first king of modern Cordonia proclaimed the country’s independence from the Turks. The official residence of the Cordonian monarchy.

“Welcome to your home for the next few months, Riley.” Maxwell told her.

“I didn’t realize I’d be staying in the Royal Palace all this time.” She said, dazzled.

“Most of nobility live here while the season is underway.” The cage system, Riley remembered, very French of them. “Including all the ladies vying for Liam’s hand.”

“Yeah, living under one roof just makes it easier to attend the rose ceremony later.”

Maxwell rolls his eyes. “Drake’s just kidding… About the roses, I guess.”

Maxwell took her to see her room, while Drake went off on his own. A mean thought went through Riley’s head, on the lines of she couldn’t be happier to be rid of the ‘lowly’ company. She wasn’t in the palace for five minutes and she was already snobbier. She laughed inside, partly of jest, but also out of nerves. The next feel months would be interesting.

“So, what’s the deal with Drake?” Riley asked. “Why he’s so jaded?”

“Oh, don’t mind him.” Maxwell answered her as they climbed their way to her room. “Drake’s never really… fit in.”

“Not used to courtly life?”

“Definitely! He’s not of noble blood. He’s always been an outsider here, even if he’s Liam’s friend.” He breathed and stopped by a door. “Here we are. In case if you need something from me or my brother, we’re just next door, okay?”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Yeah, an older brother.” He smiled tersely. “Bertrand of Beaumont, Duke Ramsford. As the eldest, he’s the heir and I’m the spare. You’ll see him tonight, he’ll be excited to meet you.”

Somehow, she didn’t think it’d be the case.

“Maxwell?”

“Yes?”

Riley looked mirthfully at the bed. “Is anything keeping me from jumping on the bed?”

“Only your dignity.”

She laughed. “Fools!”

She ran to the fluffy bed and started jumping and laughing, sighing happily as her weight sinks into the mattress when she got tired.

Life could be grand.

Following Maxwell’s general guidelines about tonight’s event, Riley went down to the seamstress, as in to prepare one of her gowns for the evening, as well as getting herself a mask.

She seems to have chosen a bad moment, as she barged in and a girl was in the nude, changing.

“Oh, God!” Riley exclaimed. “I’m so sorry!”

As Riley turned her back to give some modesty to the girl, she replied: “No problem. To be honest, I didn’t have an appointment. I’m Hana, Hana Lee.”

The black-haired smiled, not that the Asian could see. “I’m Riley Flowers, the girl who’s being sponsored by the Beaumont’s. It’s very nice to meet you!”

“Likewise.” She breathed out. “I suppose you’re also here to prepare for the Masquerade tonight. Assuming you’re here with me now, and not already dressed, I must assume you’re, like me, searching desperately for something to wear.”

Desperate may be the word to put it, considering the current minimalist getup the tanned girl had.

“More or less.” Riley said, neutral. “I’m here to touch up one of my dresses.”

“The seamstress is running late, but I can show you around!”

As Riley turned around, she saw Hana struggling to zip up completely. Helping up her finish, Hana says: “Thank you. Not many girls around are like you.”

“As in helpful?”

“Nice”

As she looks what Riley has in the bag, she exclaims she has the perfect mask to go with it. As she slips it in, she asks Hana: “How do I look?”

“Divine!”

“I don’t understand!” The young girl of seven complains. “Why do I have to come to this stupid party?”

“Well, Dora, that’s just how father is.” Her sister says, while her teenaged fingers arranges the girl’s little, white dress. “You eventually learn to suck it up and go with his evil, mastermind plans, which usually involve us being shown like broodmares.”

Theodora pouted. “But it’s so boring!”

“And it doesn’t get better.” The other girl said. “Why do you think everybody’s drunk by the end of the night?”

The blonde girl giggled.

“Do you know what you must do?” The elder sister checked.

“Enter hand-in-hand with father, give him the rose,” She motioned the flower on her hand. “Dance the first waltz with him, bow and leave.”

The teen smirked. “Perfect. Fortunately for you, no-one will miss you if you find the servant’s girl and scurries off to the gardens. Just avoid tearing your dress, okay?”

“Okay…” Dora deadpanned.

The sister took her hand and walked her over the entrance of the ballroom, where the rest of their family congregated. Her father noticed their arrival, and, dismissing her elder daughter, he kneels to talk to his youngest.

“Are you ready, Dora?”

“Yes, father.” She responded, dutifully, if rather dull.

The man’s lips thinned. “Dora, I know you’d prefer to be doing just about anything else right now, but this is important to us. Can you be a good girl tonight?”

Her eyes were locked to the ground, she did not want her father’s sapphire blue eyes piercing her ones.

“Dora?” He asks, pointedly.

Finally, she nods.

The parent smiles at his daughter, hugging her and kissing her forehead. “Good. Now, let us make this family proud.”

He took her small hand in his and they entered the ballroom with their chins up.

Palace of the Brigades, Avlona, Cordonia, Fall 2015

As they go into the ballroom, the herald announces her as “Lady Riley Flowers of New York”. She admits it does have a ring to it.

Alone and rather lost, she goes to the first familiar face she finds. Drake. Sadly, it lacks in friendliness.

“Good evening, my lady.” He says.

“So you do have manners!” Riley replies.

“Riley?!” He seems astounded. “Is that you?”

“Of course.” She twirls her off-white dress. “Who else?”

“I… I was caught off-guard!” He defends, lamely. “You clean up well.”

“I’m torn.” Riley says with a pointed look. “I can’t decide if you’re being nice or a douche again. Since I’m happy to be here, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

He chose that moment to feel self-conscious. “Looking the part doesn’t mean you’re going to be welcome here, you know?”

“Classy, Drake.”

“Compared to most nobles here, I’m your best friend.” He said, forcefully.

“I know.”

“That’s the first smart thing you’ve said.”

She frowns, but chose to ignore the last part. “What I meant is that I know I’m at a snakes’ nest, that doesn’t mean I can’t have fun.”

He sighs. “Look, I’m not trying to be a jerk. I’m just trying to help.”

Half humored, half angered, she says: “You have a very particular way of helping.”

“I’m just saying what I wish someone would have said me a long time ago.”

“Is it, Drake?” She raises an eyebrow. “Is it all there is to it?”

For a second, he seems conflicted, but soon excuses himself to the bar. As he went away, he says: “Good luck, Riley. You’re gonna need it.”

Vienna, Early 2006

Linda Rosa was sipping her coffee, twirling her flaming red hair, looking at the nothing.

“You should be more careful. You’ll end up mugged.” A deep voice rung on her ears.

“I’ve been mugged already, but I don’t carry anything of value aside from my paintings, and I suppose I should be flattered if someone thinks they’re valuable enough to be stolen.”

Drake was unsure whether to be angered or amused by her antics. “I don’t even know what to respond to that.”

She smiled, daring. “You could give me a kiss and say that you love me.”

He smirked. He took her cheek and kissed her passionately, slightly unsuitable for public company, such as they were at a coffeeshop.

“I love you, you know?” Drake told her.

“Yeah, I do, and I love you too.” She smiled, melancholic.

“Why are you so down?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, I’ve just had yet another row with my father.”

“About?”

“Oh, same old, same old. My college major, my clothes, my hair. Teenage rebellion, he says.” She sighed. “Hey, Drake?”

“Yes?”

“What do you think about noble people?”

He choked on his coffee. “What?”

“You know, blue blood, aristocracy, monarchy, privilege, this kind of thing.”

“Why are you asking about that?!”

“While I was rowing with my father, I thought he’d like to ship me off and marry to some well-to-do man, like he’s some kind of blue-blood of the seventeenth century. I just wondered about your opinion of them. You come from a monarchical country, don’t you?”

“Yeah, Cordonia’s a monarchy.”

“Perhaps you would agree with my dad, or think it was cool to have this thing around, at this day and age.” She wondered, with her expression empty. Soon enough, however, it was like her spirit settled itself back into her body. “What do you think about them?” Her eyes drilled him, anxious for an answer.

Drake couldn’t hold eye contact. “For me, they look pretentious and self-serving, but I don’t know, I’ve never met any.”

She turned thoughtful for a moment. “You’re probably right, I guess. Hey, let’s go to the park! I want to walk around, feel the sun!”

“No, it’s too cold.” Drake complained.

“Come on, mister grouchy! I’ll warm you up!”

He tried to keep his neutral face, but the sight of his girlfriend’s smile cracked him up. “Fine. Let’s go.”

She took his arms and they went out the door.

Red Rose - Masterlist

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