#Madeleine Olivia

[diioonysus]

dresses + art

[demifiendrsa]

PADDINGTON IN PERU - Official Trailer

Poster

Synopsis

PADDINGTON IN PERU brings Paddington's story to Peru as he returns to visit his beloved Aunt Lucy, who now resides at the Home for Retired Bears. With the Brown Family in tow, a thrilling adventure ensues when a mystery plunges them into an unexpected journey through the Amazon rainforest and up to the mountain peaks of Peru.

[lizzybeth1986]

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

[karahalloway]

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 19 - Field Day

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: It's off to the bridal boutique, but Harper and Olivia have a secondary agenda...

Word Count: 6,200

Rating/Warnings: M (royal bitchiness, possible emotional abuse, kidnapping, threats of murder)

Chapter theme song:

A/N: So, I have tried to keep everything as realistic and accurate as possible in terms of the locations that are touched on in this chapter. The only thing that is made up is the antique store. As usual, translations for the French and Italian are at the end.

Chapter 19 - Field Day

The five-minute drive to the bridal boutique is every bit as excruciatingly awkward as can be expected.

"What part of we are already running late is so difficult to comprehend?" derides Madeleine before the limo door even shuts. "When I tell you to hurry, I expect you to do exactly that!"

"I'm sorry, Lady Madeleine," stammers Penelope tearfully. "The heel of my shoe became caught on—"

"Save it!" the Countess of Fydelia snaps. "If you cannot do something as simple as totter down a corridor without breaking your neck, then frankly, I do not see how you are supposed to be of use to me."

Penelope's face turns whiter than a sheet. "I—"

"As lest you forget, I took you on as a lady-in-waiting as a favour to your family, given the historically close personal relationship between our fathers," Madeleine reminds her with a steely edge to her voice. "But that does not mean that I cannot send you packing just as easily. And if you do not get your act together, then that is exactly what will happen. Am I clear!"

"Yes," Penelope whimpers, lowering her gaze.

"What was that?" demands Madeleine imperiously.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And the same goes for the rest of you," adds Madeleine, casting the haughty gleam of her gaze over the limo. "One misstep — proverbial or otherwise — and you are gone. Not just from my employ, but from court as well."

Shifting my gaze over to Hana, I see that she is just as perturbed as I am about this borderline psychotic power-trip.

Talk about being a queen bitch...

Olivia scoffs from her seat in the corner. "How about you try making a threat you can actually carry out..."

Madeleine bristles. "As Queen I will have the authority to—"

"Do exactly what Christian permits you to do," Olivia interjects flatly, examining her nails. "As lest you forget, you will only ever be a queen consort — not queen regnant."

The Countess of Fydelia's eyes narrow. "That is but a technicality."

"I still wouldn't overplay my hand," Olivia cautions with a smile. "Wouldn't want to get caught out on a technicality now, would you?"

Madeleine glares down the length of the limo like a viscous viper.

"Didn't think so," smirks the Duchess of Lythikos as the driver pulls the vehicle to a stop...

...and the paps immediately descend on us like a swarm of black flies.

"What the—?" I blurt, catching the flash of the cameras through the blacked-out windows. "When did they get here?"

"Five minutes ago," replies Madeleine tartly, slotting a pair of shades on.

My jaw drops. "You... told them where we were going?"

"Of course," she affirms as the Royal Guard who had been riding shotgun manages to squeeze his way through the human press to open the door. "Royal patronage elevates the esteem and profile of any institution. It is only right that the press should be invited to cover the visit."

"Like that's the only reason..." I mutter as Madeleine steps out of the limo and the roar of the crowd becomes deafening.

"Contessa!" several people shout. "Contessa Maddalena! Quaggiù, per favore!"

"It's horse shite, by the way," Olivia advises as she slides past me. "The only thing she is looking to promote is herself."

"Well, she definitely seems to be succeeding..." I admit, watching the Guards struggle to hold the photographers back as Madeleine sashays her way towards the doors of the boutique.

Olivia scoffs. "It's an act of desperation. Nothing more. She knows she is on thin footing with Christian... and the public."

"Great..." I groan, pulling Drake's blue aviators from my clutch as I, too, exit the limo.

Rather than being an unfortunate one-off, it seems like yesterday's altercation at the Apple Harvest Festival was actually the opening salvo in a concerted campaign of media brinksmanship that Madeleine is determined to win.... at my expense.

Yet, I'm just not sure I have it in me to play her contrived publicity game. The paps have already up-ended my life more completely than I would've ever thought possible, so the last thing I want to do is pander to their voracious appetite for scandal.

"Duchessa Harper! Duchessa Harper!" the photographers shout as I step out onto the sidewalk. "You made it to Italy! What do you think of the city so far?"

"You did not travel with the King and future Queen! Were you forced to make alternative arrangements because of your argument?"

"Will you attend the opera tonight?"

"When was the last time you spoke to your family? Is it true you cut all ties with them?"

Gritting my teeth, I force myself to keep my head down and my feet moving forward as the invasive questions zing over my head like bullets. Camera bulbs flash in my face as the photographers press in, trying to get that front page close-up...

...and that's when I spot him.

My heart skips an uncomfortable beat as recognition hits me like a punch in the chest.

Oh, my God, the photographer from Applewood!

He's standing in the second row, regarding me almost casually, like a tourist at a zoo, faded red baseball cap slung backwards over his head, just as in the picture Ana de Luca had saved on the flash drive.

Our eyes meet and I stumble to a stop, unable to tear my gaze away, my morbid curiosity overpowering my senses even as the paps close in around me...

...but then I feel the warmth of a hand on my back and the sound of a familiar voice brings me back to earth.

"Nous vous tienons, Demoiselle," Allard assures me, appearing at my side to shield me from the press invasion.

Glancing up, I see that Schweitzer has taken up position in front of me, using his body like a blocker to force a path through the crush.

Curling into the safety offered by my Guard's no-nonsense attitude, I let them whisk me into the boutique.

"Thank you..." I say sincerely as we pass through the doorway into the foyer.

Allard relinquishes his hold on me with a nod. "Certainement. Vous allez bien?"

"Yeah..." I reply, heart pounding as I try to recollect my bearings. "I just—"

"Oh, my gosh!" gasps Hana, stumbling into the boutique behind us. "That was horrible!"

"C'est le bordel!" agrees Kiara as she and Penelope manage to squeeze themselves through the press before the Guards shut the door. "Qu'est-ce qu'elle croyait?"

"She wasn't," Olivia replies flatly, shooting an accusatory glance over her shoulder at Madeleine, who is already being given a queen's welcome by the boutique's owner.

A tense silence descends as we all process this assessment.

"I... I suppose we should go through," Hana suggests eventually.

"Oui," Kiara affirms with a huff, smoothing the front of her dress. "Sa Majesté expects our assistance."

Penelope glances uncertainly towards the fuss being made over Madeleine. "I don't think she's expecting mine..."

"Don't be silly!" Kiara admonishes, looping her arm through her friend's to tug her forward. "She just had a petite éclat. Every bride gets nervous and she is under a lot of pressure to maintain constant perfection. But that is why we need to help her, non?"

Penelope looks like she's about to disagree, before finally acquiescing with a sigh. "I just miss Merlin and Morgana..."

"J'sais..." consoles Kiara, patting her reassuringly on the back of the hand. "Hopefully once the tour is finished, Madeleine will allow you to send for them."

"I doubt it..." Penelope mutters meekly as they join Madeleine in the store proper. "She said she hates yappy little dogs. You don't suppose they have anything here with poodles on them, do you?"

"I don't think this boutique specialises in that type of lingerie..."

"Oh..."

"I'm sure they have some pretty floral designs, though!" Hana offers encouragingly. "Italian lace is known around the world for its intricate rebrodè detailing."

"Yes, because that's what men care about on the wedding night..." Olivia mutters dryly, turning towards me. "You coming, or what?"

"Huh?" I ask, snapping my head up. "Umm... Yeah. Sorry."

"You better be," she snips disdainfully as she starts down the foyer as well. "I refuse to be the only sane participant in this clown show..."

I glance warily back towards the front of the boutique, where the paps were still battling each other, trying to snap a shot of us through the tastefully curated window displays.

"What?" Olivia objects after a beat. "No snide comment? No wry clap-back? You're not conveniently coming down with a sudden fever, are you?"

"I... I saw him," I admit, tearing my gaze away from the feeding frenzy outside.

Olivia grabs my wrist to yank me to a stop. "Saw who?"

"The photographer," I say tightly, pulling my arms around myself in a bid to stop myself from shivering, despite the record-breaking temperatures outside. "From Applewood."

"Dion Guillard..." clarifies Olivia, staring at me intently. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I nod.

Olivia purses her lips. "He could be here on his own volition, or because someone invited him. Either way, we should make use of this opportunity."

"How?"

"By making him an offer he can't refuse," she replies slyly, pulling her phone out.

My eyes widen. "You mean right now? But Madeleine—"

"Has enough sycophants coddling her already," she counters flippantly as she quickly types up a text. "We only have one chance to do this. Do you want the truth, or not?"

I swallow down the lump in my throat. "I do."

"Good," she nods, slotting her phone away again. "You don't mind if I borrow your hunks, do you?"

"Umm..."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," she responds, clicking her fingers authoritatively at Allard and Schweitzer. "Meet me in the back in fifteen minutes."

Before I have a chance to respond, Olivia has already spun on her heel and is striding towards the rear of the store, my two Guards in tow.

"'Kay..." I mutter under my breath.

I have no idea what Olivia's plan is... much less how she thinks to arrange a clandestine meeting with the photographer under Madeleine's nose while there's an entire army of paps parked outside watching our every move.

But I've learned during the course of the social season that the Scarlet Duchess is as enterprising as she is resourceful, having pulled a number of successful ploys in a bid to advance herself in the competition. And Drake seems to trust her implicitly, otherwise, he wouldn't have asked her to keep an eye on me while he's off in Dubai.

So, it looks like I'm just going to have to trust her, too.

Taking a deep breath, I move towards the other end of the shop floor, pretending to peruse the various items on offer while I wait for the allotted time to tick down.

Luckily, Madeleine is busy loudly shooting down each and every lingerie option that is presented to her by both the boutique staff and her increasingly frazzled ladies-in-waiting, so nobody really notices when I announce a pretend visit to the restroom.

Slipping back out into the foyer, I move as casually as possible towards the back of the store, knowing that the paps are still watching me like hawks through the windows.

Rounding the corner, I allow myself to speed up a bit, casting my gaze left and right, looking for Olivia...

...when I'm suddenly yanked into a dimly-lit storeroom stacked with cardboard boxes and plastic-wrapped veils and dresses.

"Hey! What the—?" I protest as the door is shut promptly behind me.

"You're late," Olivia informs me dryly, clicking the lone light bulb on above us.

"Sorry, I had t—"

I reel back in horror as my eyes land on the bound and gagged form of Dion Guillard perched on top of a box of lingerie.

"Oh, my God!" I gasp. "When the heck did this turn into a kidnapping?"

"Ten minutes ago," she replies breezily.

I drop my head in my hands. "I am going to jail... I am literally going to jail..."

"Oh, ye of little faith..." Olivia admonishes, stepping over to the photographer.

He shrinks instantly back from her.

My brows shoot skywards. "Jesus Christ... What did you do to him?"

"Nothing," she shrugs. "Yet..."

A chill runs down my spine. Apparently, Olivia's reputation is more than well deserved...

"I presume you know who we are?" she asks Dion levelly, coming to a stop in front of him.

The man nods tightly, brows bunched together beneath the line of his baseball cap.

"And your current circumstances leave you under no illusions as to the lengths we're willing to go to obtain — by force, or otherwise — the clear and unvarnished truth?"

His gaze slips to meet mine for a second before sliding back to Olivia's to give her the barest of nods.

"Good," she smiles, reaching towards him. "Then this will go that much faster."

In one quick motion, she yanks the scrunched-up handkerchief from the photographer's mouth, making him wheeze.

"Sa mère la pute de—"

"Who are you working for?" Olivia demands, folding her arms.

Dion spits on the floor next to her feet. "I'm a freelancer. I work for—"

"We know who you are," Olivia interjects with a wave of her hand. "You're a lowlife slug who's willing to do anything to make a name for himself. You demonstrated as much when you sold compromising photos of my friend here to the press. The question is, who hired you?"

Dion scoffs. "Nobody hired me. I work for myself! That is what I've been trying to—!"

"Liar," Olivia accuses. "We know you didn't just stumble upon this by yourself. Who's your client?"

"Nom de dieu..." he disparages under his breath. "I told you already, I—"

Olivia is suddenly up in his face, knife pressed to his throat. "And I didn't like your answer."

Dion jerks back instinctively. "Your petite friend is correct... You are going to jail..."

"They'll have to find your body first," she tells him silkily. "What little will be left of it, anyway... Because no one here is going to the police. And I'm sure that your so-called friends out the front will secretly be glad for your unexplained loss. The freelance photography business is oh-so cutthroat, after all..."

"Tu es une salle grace..." he snarls through clenched teeth.

Olivia presses the knife tighter. "Then you should know that it's not in your interest to test what's left of my patience..."

Dion laughs bitterly. "À quoi ça rime? You say already that you will just—"

"What if we paid you?" I interject, stepping forward.

Olivia's head snaps angrily around. "Harper, stay out of—!"

"Paid me?" the photographer cuts in, eyes swirling to meet mine with interest.

"To give us the information we're after... voluntarily," I clarify, in a bid to avoid the impending bloodshed. "And to sell us the photos from Applewood."

Dion frowns. "I already sold the pictures to the papers..."

"Not all of them," I correct, hoping against hope that my gut instinct is correct and I haven't just torpedoed Olivia's interrogation for nothing. "You only sold the ones you were told to sell — the ones that fit your client's narrative."

Dion seems to assess me in a new light. "You come prepared... Fine. I'll do as you ask... for five million."

"Ducats?" asks Olivia.

"Euros."

I very narrowly catch my jaw from falling to the floor at the sound of the obscene price tag.

"You've been paid once already," counters Olivia. "The highest we can go is one million."

"Four," insists Dion, somehow managing to find the balls to negotiate even with a knife pressed to his throat. "There are a lot of pictures."

"Which no one else is willing to buy, so two is our best and final offer."

"Three," declares Dion. "And I'll forget this conversation ever happened."

Olivia purses her lips for a moment, before whipping the knife away with a flourish. "Fine. Start talking."

Dion lets out a low exhale. "I received a call some days before the Jamboree. The person had a tip on one of the Prince's suitors, and said it would make big news if it got out. Naturally, I was interested."

"Who was this person?" I ask.

"I don't have a name," he replies. "The tip was anonymous, and the call came from a hidden number."

"Was it a man or a woman?" Olivia queries.

"A man."

Olivia and I exchange a glance. Tariq or Godfrey.

"How did you get into Applewood?" I ask, turning back to Dion.

"A security pass was delivered to my apartment. No return address," he adds before either of us can ask.

"And that didn't seem suspicious?" I press.

"Demoiselle," he scoffs. "I am a paparazzo. I am not going to... How you Américans say? Count the teeth of a dog?"

"Look a gift horse in the mouth..." I correct dryly.

"Once on the estate, I took some pictures of the Jamboree — in the event, you know... nothing came of the tip — but then I received a message on my phone that the suitor in question was on her way back to her room with her paramour, andI should make myself ready."

"How did you know which room to go to?" I cut in.

"There was a blueprint of the manor included in the same envelope that provided me my security pass," Dion explains. "It was your room that was marked."

His words hit me like a kick to the guts.

It's been clear for a while that my run-in with Tariq has been anything but chance. But to learn the malicious extent of the planning that had gone into setting it up makes me want to actually puke.

Who was sick enough to even think up something so twisted?

"What then?" asks Olivia, diverting Dion's attention from my momentary muteness.

He shrugs. "I took the photos, and left."

"How?" I croak in disbelief. "How could you just stand there while—?"

"I am a journalist," he shrugs apathetically. "My business is to be impartial..."

"You watched me get assaulted," I hiss through trembling lips. "There is nothing impartial about that!"

He shrugs again. "Affairs are messy. Maybe you should choose your lovers more carefully."

I feel my fists clench at my sides as I take a step forward. "He is not—"

Olivia's hand pulls me back. "How did you deliver the photos?"

"There was no delivery," Dion counters with the same level of nonchalance that he's exhibited since he started talking. "I selected the best pictures and put them out to offer to the newspapers. The Sun offered the most for them, so I sold to them the exclusive rights to publish."

"That's it?" queries Olivia. "No one else was given copies?"

Dion scoffs. "Absolutement pas! Selling copies to anyone else would violate the license agreement with the most influential tabloid newspaper in the country! Why would I put myself out of business? I am not an idiot..."

"You didn't send any samples to the person who tipped you off?" I press, having finally managed to regain my composure somewhat.

"Non," he insists. "I said before — he was not a client. I have no obligation for him. And even if I did, I have no way to contact him because—"

"—the conversations were anonymous," I finish wearily.

Apart from lending credence to our suspicions that Godfrey may have had a hand in the set-up, this conversation has confirmed literally nothing.

The people involved in the plot have been too careful in covering up their tracks.

Which means that all our hopes now rest with Tariq... and Drake's ability to find him.

Dion nods. "C'est correct. And I told you everything you asked. We still have a deal, yes?"

"On the condition that you hand over all the remaining photographs — including any digital and backup copies — and disappear off to a godforsaken island somewhere," Olivia clarifies.

Dion nods eagerly. "Naturellement. I always desired early retirement."

"Good," she approves, cutting the bonds from his wrists with a cold smile. "Otherwise I will personally ensure that you don't live to spend a single Euro of your newly acquired millions."

The flash of the wicked-looking blade so close to his groin causes the photographer to blanch involuntarily. "Je le jure."

Olivia flashes him a cold smile. "We'll be in touch..."

"You're just letting him go?" I hiss into Olivia's ear as Dion pushes himself up.

"Unless you would prefer to dump him in the Tiber?"

I reel back. "What! No! I just—"

"Your instinct was right," she advises softly, as Dion gathers his bag and Allard escorts him back out. "He is an opportunistic shark. He just had to be made to believe that he was fleecing us."

My eyes widen. "So, you played bad cop deliberately."

"As you said, this is my area of expertise," she smirks. "And I knew you would not be able to keep your sentimentality at the door."

"Umm, thanks... I think..." I mutter. "But where are we supposed to get three million Euros from? We may both be aristos, but neither of us is Jeff Bezos..."

"The Palace has a designated slush fund set aside for these sorts of expenditures," Olivia assures me breezily, slotting her knife away. "Since you are now a member of the royal family, we'll just send the bill to Jonathan."

I slant her a wry look. "I'm pretty sure that's not what either he or Christian had in mind when they decided to clean up my image..."

"Oh, please!" she admonishes, stepping back out into the corridor as well. "As recently as last year, Constantine was authorising expenditures of five to ten million Euros to stop pictures of Leo shagging B-list actresses on top of various vehicles making it onto the front pages. Three million Euros is trump change for the Rys."

"If you say so," I concede, my mind still reeling from astronomical sums of money that had been so casually bandied about. "Let's just hope Dion doesn't screw us over..."

"He won't," she assures me. "Nobody is stupid enough to cross a Nevrakis."

"The people who blackmailed you did..." I remind her cautiously.

Olivia's mouth tightens as we reach the end of the corridor. "Which was their first mistake. And one that they will pay for dearly."

"You never actually told me what they threatened you with on the night of the Coronation Ball..."

Olivia glances at me sharply. "The less you know the better."

"But—"

"It is for your own protection," she insists. "You haven't played this game long enough to know how to handle something so... explosive."

My eyes widen. "What? More explosive than—?"

Olivia clamps her hand over my mouth. "What did I tell you on the plane?"

"Sorry..." I mumble through her fingers.

She withdraws her hand. "If — on the very slim chance — I require assistance, I'll ask for it. In the meantime, you should rejoin the bridal parade."

"Why? Where are you going?" I ask as Olivia moves towards the back loading doors.

"None of your business," she ripostes, disappearing outside.

"Bye to you, too..." I snip as the door slams closed in her wake.

Olivia may now be on my side, but she is still as caustic as ever.

Turning back towards the main part of the boutique. I barely make it four steps before Madeleine's shrieks of outrage — and the sound of breaking glass — echo down the hallway.

"How many times do I have to tell you, no thongs! They are ribald and tasteless!"

"Yeah, no..." I mutter under my breath as I promptly spin on my heel to head back towards the rear of the store.

I don't care what Kiara may have said earlier; I have no interest in spending the rest of the morning being trapped in a bridal boutique, being screamed at by Madeleine. I have much better things to do with my time... and sanity, especially given that I'm still trying to mentally and emotionally process what the photographer had said. And after everything else that's happened in the past twenty-four hours, a small break would definitely go a long way in diffusing my pent-up stress.

Admittedly, a part of me feels bad for leaving Hana behind to suffer the full brunt of Madeleine's tirade, but trying to pull her away as well would only jeopardise my chances of making a successful getaway. I'll just have to think of some other way to make it up to her.

Not wanting her to get into any unwarranted trouble on my account, I decide to pull out my phone to send her a quick text letting her know that I'm not feeling well, and that I'll hopefully see her at the opera in the evening.

Slotting my phone back into my clutch, I push the back doors of the boutique open with a decisive shove, and step out into the sunshine.

Letting my eyes adjust to the brightness outside, I find myself in a small courtyard. On a whim, I turn back towards my Guards.

"Which way to the Trevi Fountain?" I ask, pulling my sunglasses back down over my face.

Allard and Schweitzer trade glances, clearly uneasy with this request.

"Demoiselle, that is not a prudent—"

"—way to get lost in the crowd?" I counter. "I can't think of a better one. If I don't advertise myself, no one will know I'm even there. Especially while the paps are tied up on the other side of the building."

My Guards don't seem convinced. "Commandant Walker left specific instructions to—"

"I'm not planning on disappearing on you," I assure them. "I just want to make a quick detour to grab some pastries, and check out the fountain. So, which way is it?"

Perhaps seeing that I'm not going to be swayed by any cautionary counter-argument, Schweitzer gives Allard a one-shouldered shrug of acquiescence.

Allard pulls a face before finally resigning himself as well. "Par ici," he says, indicating the far side of the courtyard.

"Thanks," I chirp with a smile, setting out across the cobblestones...

...and promptly get the heel of my stiletto pumps stuck in a crack between the stones.

"Eugh," I grumble, as I manage to wrench myself free after a brief battle. "I really didn't think this through..."

"Would Demoiselle require a taxi?" asks Schweitzer as he helps steady me from behind.

"I was hoping to walk..." I admit sheepishly.

"Via Borgognona is nearby," Allard suggests. "It is a well-known shopping street, though quieter than the more famous Via Condotti. Demoiselle might find more... comfortable footwear there."

"Not to mention some more appropriate clothes in general," I gripe, already feeling the tight fabric of my pencil dress start to stick to me. "How far away is it?"

"Just around the corner."

I flash him a bright smile. "Perfect!"

With Allard leading the way, and Schweitzer holding my hand, we manage to cross the courtyard without further incident, and sneak past the paps still thronging the front of the bridal boutique without getting spotted.

Crossing the pedestrianised thoroughfare, my Guards usher me down a narrower street that is lined on either side by cream-coloured buildings casting some welcome shade in the midday heat.

We pass a smattering of tourists and locals, but luckily everyone seems to be too absorbed in their phones or personal conversations to pay any specific attention to me.

And — more importantly — as Allard promised, the street is composed entirely of fashionable-looking independent boutiques.

"Let's try this one," I suggest, indicating the arched entryway of a store with an Italian name that I do not recognise, but which nevertheless seems to have several options for sandals on offer. And — given the scalding nature of the weather — an open-toe option is definitely appealing right now!

Stepping into the air-conditioned entranceway, I am immediately greeted by an immaculately made up woman with a severe ponytail, who starts questioning me in rapid-fire Italian.

"Umm..."

Luckily, I am saved from the embarrassment of trying to cobble together some kind of inappropriate response with the very limited — and wholly unhelpful — Italian that Bertrand had managed to teach me on the plane by Allard, who steps deftly up to my side.

"Lei è alla ricerca di alcune nuove scarpe."

"Che tipo de scarpe?"

"Sandals," I say, having understood the gist of the question. "No heel."

"Prego," the assistant says, flicking her hand towards some minimalist shelving.

"Gracia," I acknowledge with a smile.

Moving over to the indicated section, I quickly assess the options...

...and nearly die when I lay eyes on the price tags.

"Almost a thousand Euros...?" I gripe under my breath "For a few scraps of leather...?"

But then my eyes land on a pair bejewelled, gladiator-style sandals.

Given my limited window of opportunity to sneak in some sight-seeing before people start to question my absence, I don't have the luxury of being able to hunt for a bargain. And if I'm going to end up forking out this much money on a pair of shoes, I'm at least going to spend it on something that I like the look of.

And these sandals definitely fit the bill.

Decision made, I pull out my phone to quickly find out how my normal US shoe size converts to the vastly different European sizing, and turn back to the patiently waiting assistant.

"Size 36, please."

With a nod, she disappears 'round the back.

While she's gone, I take the opportunity to look up the location of the little pastry shop that the President had mentioned.

Since I'm heading towards the Trevi Fountain anyway, and Madeleine had pulled us out of this morning's meeting before the refreshments could be served, I had been serious when I told my Guards of my intent to tackle two birds with one stone. Especially since it's nearly lunchtime, and chances are I won't otherwise see food until the opera this evening.

The assistant reappears with my selection, and after a quick try-on, I give her a nod to ring up the extortionate purchase, being excessively grateful that I still have cash left in my US account, given that I don't actually have access to my new Cordonian accounts yet.

Stepping back out onto the street, I change out my shoes, slotting my pumps away into the high-end bag that I've been given, and dumping the shoebox in a nearby trash can.

My toes flex gratefully in their newfound freedom as I cross the street to the clothing boutique, wondering how much a top and pair of jean shorts is going to set me back...

In the end, however, I am pleasantly surprised to emerge back onto the street in a simple, white wrap-dress, a straw Panama hat, and a matching straw bucket bag in which I've stowed my old dress and shoes, all for under two hundred Euros, which means I was able to make recourse to the money Drake had given me, and still have plenty of cash left over for other potential emergencies.

"Thanks for the suggestion," I tell Allard sincerely. "It has definitely saved me from melting into the pavement!"

"De rien, Demoiselle," he acknowledges with a smile. "Are you ready to continue?"

"Lead the way, Monsieur!" I tell him with a grin.

Taking up poll position with a scoff — with Schweitzer bringing up the rear — Allard takes us left at the next intersection to zig-zag us down various side streets, presumably in a bid to avoid both the ferocity of the midday sun, and the chances of me being recognised on the busier avenues.

But, the back route pays off, and within ten minutes, I find myself standing on the edge of the crowded plaza that serves as the gateway to the romantic monument.

"Wow..." I breathe, taking it all in. "It sure is busy!"

Allard and Schweitzer exchange a tense look, no doubt worried about the prospect of being able to keep tabs on me in the press.

"I'll be fine," I assure them. "Just a quick peek and then we can get moving."

Neither of them look convinced, but they don't try to dissuade me as I plunge into the crowd.

Skirting around wedding parties, tour groups, and other miscellaneous sightseers, I manage to work my way to the front of the throng, and my mouth parts with a gasp at the sight spread out before me.

The four-storey monument rises up from the base of the fountain, framing the dynamically positioned statues from under whose feet the water gushes into the aquamarine pool.

It's like a Renaissance painting brought to life.

But, while I'm glad to have made the trip out here to see it in person, I can't help but feel my chest tighten morosely as I gaze up at the beauty of the world-famous landmark.

I didn't necessarily realise it at the time, but part of the reason why I enjoyed my outing in the Cordonian capital so much was because I had Drake to share the adventure with. And it was the same in Avignon — his wry quips and local knowledge had definitely brought the whole experience to life, making me see the city through different eyes than I probably would have had I been by myself... like I am now.

Eugh... I miss him...

Reaching for the ties of my bag on impulse, I pull the fastenings apart just enough to plunge my hand inside. Finding my purse, I snap it open and extract a Euro from the coin pouch.

Squeezing my fingers 'round the warmth of the metal, I clench my eyes shut with a heartfelt wish as I turn back towards the fountain...

...before sending the coin flipping through the air to land in the water before me with a soft plop.

Blinking my eyes open, I am somewhat disappointed to find myself still standing solo by the railing, and Drake has not magically appeared before me like the hot Italian guy did in The Lizzy McGuire Movie.

"Worth a shot..." I console myself somewhat dejectedly as I reach back into my bag to extract my phone so I could snap a couple of pictures to send to my mom.

Mission accomplished, I turn away from the fountain to make my way back to the edge of the square, Allard and Schweitzer falling into step behind me as I scan the various store-fronts clustered around the fountain, searching for the bakery with the pistachio croissants.

My eyes suddenly land on something in one of the window displays...

...and without really thinking about it, I let my feet carry me inside.

The little brass bell above the door jingles as I step into the cramped confines of what appears to be a shop selling a motley collection of antiques and touristy knick-knacks. A wizened old man sporting glasses and a thick head of white hair looks up at the sound of my arrival.

"Buon pomeriggio, signorina," he greets. "Posso aiutarla a cercare?"

"Umm... sì," I say hesitantly. "Hai avo... in the window?" I point at the item that had caught my eye with an embarrassed flush.

The man's face cracks into a grin. "Ah, certamente!"

Stepping out from behind the counter, he ambles his way over to the window display, to pull back the protective glass. Reaching in, he lifts up the silver chain and holds it out to me.

I run the tip of my finger across the edge of the pendant with a smile. "It's perfect."

"For you?" he asks, lifting the chain up to my neck indicatively.

"No," I laugh. "It's a present... Por mi amore?"

His eyes light up. "Ah, bellissimo! Lo avvolgerò in su per voi!"

"Gracia," I say as he scuttles excitedly back behind the counter in search of a box.

Pulling one out with a conspiratorial flourish, he sets about packaging up the piece as if he were swaddling a precious child for a hazardous journey, even managing to dig out a slightly dusty ribbon to tie on top.

"Cento euro," he declares, presenting the completed ensemble to me.

Pulling my wallet out, I extract my card. "Visa?"

"Sì! Ovviamente!" he proclaims, slapping a brand new Square card machine onto the counter, that was starkly at odds with the otherwise Ollivander-esque décor of the place.

Slotting my card into the reader, I complete the purchase, and am just about to reach for the box to stow it away in my bag when I feel a sudden presence behind me.

"This is becoming a bad habit with you..."

I freeze at the sound of the familiar voice.

No way...

The story continues in Chapter 20 - Steal Me Away

A/N: As per usual, translations below:

Nous vous tienons, Demoiselle - We got you, m'lady

At the bridal boutique:

Contessa! Contessa Maddalena! Quaggiù, per favore! - Countess! Countess! Over here, please!

Certainement. Vous allez bien? - Certainly. Are you alright?

C'est le bordel! Qu'est-ce qu'elle croyait?" - What mess! What was she thinking?

Sa mère la pute de— - Your mother is a whore of a—

Nom de dieu - Oh, my God!

Tu es une salle grace - You're a real bitch

Absolutement pas! - Absolutely not!

Je le jure - I swear

Lei è alla ricerca di alcune nuove scarpe - She is looking for some new shoes.

Out and About

Par ici - This way

Che tipo de scarpe? - What kind of shoes?

Prego - Please

Gracia - Thanks

De rien, Demoiselle - No problem, m'lady

Buon pomeriggio, signorina. Posso aiutarla a cercare? - Good afternoon, miss. Can I help you find anything?

Ah, bellissimo! Lo avvolgerò in su per voi! - Ah, lovely! I will wrap it up for you!

Por mi amore?* - For my love?

*This is a completely butchered attempt at Italian. The grammatically correct way to say it would be 'È per il mio amore'. However, Harper is improvising, so she's not going to get things completely correct 😇

Cento euro - One hundred Euros

Sì! Ovviamente! - Yes! Of course!

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[yours-stevie]

Coachella '24 day 2 looks 🏜

[twinkleallnight]

Isle of Misfits

Chapter 10: Dealing with the Paparazzi.

Fandom: TRR x Platinum x OH x CoP x TNA x ?

Series: Isle of Misfits, Round Robin 24, hosted by @choicesprompts

Characters:

TRR – Liam Rys, Leo Rys, Olivia Nevrakis, Madeleine Amaranth

RoE – Katie Rys

TNA – Sam Dalton

Word count: 1240

The phone pinged.

‘1 new message’

Leo sighed and picked up to read. He was tired of explaining himself to Katie. The world never understood him or his desire to live a care free life. The paparazzi won’t let him breathe. But he thought Katie would understand. She would always know. He had tried to be honest with her, always.

He was struggling to stay abreast sailing through the rough waters when his brother decided to take the corrective action for Leo’s deeds . He was forced into this PR stunt of a circus with his childhood friend, Bertrand, playing the ring master. And as if Gods had not had enough of entertainment, he was paired with his ex, Madeleine! Just perfect!

Coming out of his reverie, he tapped his fingers on the home screen to check the new message .

‘Meet me at the beach restaurant in 10minutes to collect your dossier .

Countess Madeleine .’

“Better than having Sam Dalton as a mentor” he consoled himself. “His brains function through that Rocket in his pocket. At least Madeleine has her head over her shoulders.”

He dragged himself out of his bed. Sharp after 10 minutes he presented himself in front of the Countess.

“What do you plan to do with this?” He lifted the heavy bundle of papers filed into a folder neatly. ‘Prim and proper. So much like Madeleine.’

But Madeleine’s reply was totally off beat. “why you have not shaved?”

Leo shook his head as if trying to decipher. “What?” He moved his fingers through the over grown messy beard.

Madeleine scoffed, “ Let me make it clear Leo. You are constantly under lens.”

“That’s exactly what I don’t want.” He cut her off.

“You were the crown prince.”

“And I abdicated.” He tried to prove his point.

“Doesn’t matter. You can’t change who you are born as.”

“Why?” He pulls his fingers through his sandy blonde hair In frustration.

“Prince Harry abdicated too. But he is always in news.”

Leo scowled, “For heavens sake! Can’t they let me live in peace?”

“Only if you don’t give them chance to rip through your peaceful personal life.” She air quoted.

He nods in agreement. “And I can see, you are here to tell me, how.”

“Now you are talking business.” Madeleine smiled.

Leo closed his eyes for a moment. He had to do this for Katie, for his children. He took a deep breath. “Okay. Tell me what am I supposed to do?”

“You need to look perfect when you walk in public. It shows that you are leading a perfect and happy life.”

Leo smirked, “Yes it’s a very happy life.”

“Make it look like one and I can tell you, they will stop chasing you.”

“Fine! What next?”

“I have appointed a valet for you. He will help with your attire, hair and your over all appearance. You will not leave your room before he checks you.”

Leo rolled his eyes. He had no other option but to accept what was thrown at him.

For the next hour he went back and forth over the plans Madeleine had laid out for him.

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

Bertrand’s office next day

Olivia was seated across Bertrand, discussing their next modus operandi. Olivia had successfully completed her task with Raleigh Carrera and was now assigned to the case of the exiled crown prince, Trystan Thorne, of Drakovia.

An urgent knock on the door brought them to a halt. They both looked at each other. Bertrand voiced, “Come in” , wondering who was their uninvited guest for the meeting .

Leo stormed in and slammed a tabloid onto the desk in front of Bertrand. Olivia stared back at Leo’s fuming face while Bertrand looked in confusion, “ What does this mean?”

“Open and see for yourself.” Leo pointed out his finger.

As soon as Bertrand picked the newspaper and unfolded it, his eyes went wide with shock. Olivia leaned towards him to peer into the news.

The newspaper had images of Leo and Madeleine sitting in a cafe. The first one had Madeleine gleaming at Leo and the second one showed them shaking hands near the exit. The tag line read ‘Former crown prince Leo Rhys, spotted with his ex, Countess Madeleine, at leisure on a private island. Do we smell something burning in Katie Rhys’ sweet home?”

A smile played on Olivia’s lips.

“Seriously?” Leo asked looking at Olivia’s reaction.

“It’s not about you.” She fanned away with her hand.

“From what I can see, it’s definitely about me.” He turned to Bertrand angrily, “This is how you were going to help me save my image and my marriage?”

Olivia spoke instead, “Its not his fault. Madeleine should have been more discreet while planning her meetings.”

Just as on clue, Madeleine stepped inside the office. “Speak for yourself. I know my job well.” She snatched the tabloid from Bertrand’s hand and glanced at the pics, dismissing it in an instant.

She focused on Leo, “ This is the reason I insisted you need to dress up properly. Had you been in a formal attire, this would have been ignored by the media as just another business meeting.”

“Great ! So now it’s all my mistake? You know what my mistake is? Trusting you guys with my future.”

Bertrand replied in a calm note, “I think you are over reacting. It’s just two pics, we can change the flow of events. My PR company can assure you, we are good at turning the waves in your favour.”

Before he completed his sentence, the doors to his office opened with a bang. Drake barged in raging in anger. “The hell you turn things only in your favour. You Beaumonts are the most mean and selfish men walking on this damn planet.” His voice echoed across the halls outside the office.

Bertrand’s eyes roamed behind Drake to check if there were any audience at his doors. He settled his gaze back on Drake. “May I know the reason for this intrusion?”

Drake sneered, “You call yourself CEO of a PR firm yet you don’t have updates of the newsflash on TV channels across Cordonia?”

Bertrand gave Drake an irritated glare and picked up the remote to switch on the flat screen hanging on the wall across his table. The screen brightened up with flashes of red haired lady bouncing on a dance floor. All of them in the room knew that was Olivia but the next few moments left everyone’s mouth hanging open.

Bertrand came into the frame trying to dance. He made some lewd gestures and then grabbed Olivia into a smooch.

Leo and Madeleine jolted back at Bertrand. Even Olivia had shock written all over her face. Definitely she was drunk that she didn’t remember this incident.

Bertrand gulped and fumbled with the remote to switch off the TV. He didn’t want to listen or let others in the room listen to the reporter’s remarks.

“I... I ... I can explain”, he said nervously.

Drake sprinted to him in two steps and held him by collar. “How many times are you going to explain? First my sister, then your back stabbing brother took Riley and now you target my girl friend?”

“Riley is with Max?” The baritone voice from the entrance of the office brought everything to standstill. They all turned to see Liam standing in a thunderstuck state.

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[tessa-liam]

Turning The Page 

Chapter – 2 –The Sacrifice 

Choices, The Royal Romance. Alternate Universe 

Series Premise: As Riley Brooks journeys through life as a single parent in New York City, an epiphany strikes as she contemplates the future for herself and her two-year-old son. 

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!MC Riley Brooks 

All characters belong to Pixelberry, except William Brooks (Rys) and Matteo Magro, who belong to this series. 

Category: On-going series, contains angst/fluff/depression 

Rating: M🔞Warnings - crude language - not Beta’d - please excuse all errors. 

Words: 2499 

Turning The Page 

The Sacrifice -Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: Riley is reunited with Maxwell, as Daniel attempts to lift Riley from her feelings of melancholy at Club Kismet. Liam meets with Olivia in Lythikos searching for another perspective on the night of his coronation and his father’s transgressions against her and Riley. Madeleine discloses a secret. 

Turning The Page Masterlist 

Music Inspiration: Sacrifice, Elton John; The Sweetest Thing (I’ve Ever Known, Juice Newton; Always Remember Us This Way, Josh Rabenold 

A/N1: In this alternate universe, after King Constantine orchestrates two individual scandals to humiliate and entrap Riley Brooks and Olivia Nevrakis in shame, Madeleine Amaranth secures her position as the Queen of Cordonia. Riley, as the King’s mistress and Olivia, in self-imposed exile. Tariq is never found. 

A/N2: My submission for @choicesflashfics , Week #47, Prompt #3 - “Why are you being so weird?” 

Brooklyn Heights, New York City

Sitting beside the second-floor level home office window, Riley opened the heavy canvas satchel that held the new correspondence from her latest client. Working hard at starting her new home business, she put her business accounting skills to use for employment and landed her first client very quickly.  

After leaving Cordonia, Riley enrolled at Brooklyn College to finish her accounting accreditation while she was pregnant with William. She wanted the absolute best for her son, so earning a living was the top priority. 

Now that Riley was back in the States, her set goals also included building a life and creating a happy future for her son. So, when Daniel’s partner Matteo, who owned a six-bedroom brownstone in Brooklyn Heights, offered her a home when she arrived back in New York at Daniel’s old apartment, she readily accepted. 

Daniel met his love interest soon after Riley had left New York City to pursue her prince who captivated and captured her heart in Cordonia. Matteo and Daniel had a spacious brownstone and insisted that Riley and her baby share their home. 

 Checking off these challenges as completed, she once again found her thoughts drifting back to the life, she left behind in Cordonia.  

...and to Liam. 

Riley could not help but think, she had made a huge mistake. As William began to grow and start to talk and walk, the guilt she felt was overwhelming. All the ‘firsts’ that Liam deserved to witness of his son; the family that she knew was his ‘heart's desire’. 

...but then, she would remind herself that if she stayed, Madeleine would demand that William live at the palace as his guardian as per the Cordonian Arrangement. Since he is the Crown Prince, she would be obliged and subjected to Madeleine’s wrath, and be forced to abide by her control as Queen. 

Riley was convinced that Liam would want his son with him, and rightfully so. The King and Queen, and the Crown Prince would be the Royal family. Leaving her as the other woman; the ‘dirty little secret’, who was never seen in the daylight. Without a doubt, Riley was convinced that Madeleine would make it her mission to sabotage her relationship with her son, and with Liam. 

If only, they could have found Tariq.  

If only Constantine had cleared her name before passing away. 

It was devastating when the day came to her realization that the marriage between Liam and Madeline would go forward. The heartbreak she had to endure, having to watch the love of her life marry another. 

Liam said he would never want her as his mistress; but she was. 

He said he wanted her to be his number one woman, his queen, but she was not. 

….and now, here she was. The mother of his child. In self-imposed exile; just like Olivia. 

This realization reminded her why she had to change the course her life was taking. To justify why she had to sacrifice her heart and move forward, without Liam. 

‘And I have never been afraid of losing now. 

And I have never wanted love to be a chain. 

I only know that when I’m with you, you’re my sunshine, you’re my rain. 

The sweetest thing I’ve ever known is loving you.’ 

Riley needed to make a connection with her past life in Cordonia. For William’s sake. It all starts with Maxwell. 

House Nevrakis, Duchy of Lythikos, Cordonia 

The crackle of an ember in the roaring fireplace snapped Liam from his thoughts as Olivia set his scotch down before him. 

Olivia studied the troubled expression of her friend very closely, noticing the added stress lines on his face. Only seeing him on video at his press conferences, this was the first time in four years since she decided to leave court, that the pair were in the same room together. 

“So, what’s on your mind Liam? Don’t get me wrong, I am delighted that you have stopped in for an unannounced visit. But I am very curious as to why, after all this time?” 

Olivia kept the following thoughts to herself, ‘I would not be lucky enough for him to declare he was wrong and made me his queen.’ 

He sighed, and a wistful expression spread across his face. “I have been thinking about my father’s transgressions against yourself and against Riley, very frequently lately.” 

“Oh?” This comment intrigued her. Olivia moved forward in her chair, moving closer to Liam. 

“Yes, well, and so you should Liam,” Olivia scoffed. 

“But why now? What has changed? 

“Liv, when you originally received the intimidation letter the night of my coronation, why did you not tell me at once upon receiving it? All you told me that evening was that you were withdrawing officially from the social season. I never saw your letter.” 

Olivia raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at his statement, “I thought I could handle it on my own. I destroyed it.” 

“Bertrand and Maxwell intercepted a courier with a letter marked ‘urgent’ addressed to Riley, as well. Like you, the letter was from an unknown sender, telling her to leave court at once saying, ‘she will never be queen.’” 

“The letter I received.... I was being blackmailed.” Olivia shook her head.

 “I had no other choice. Whoever wrote that letter knew things about my parents. That they were traitors to the crown. They had attached proof.” 

Liam sat with his head resting in his hands, a faraway look on his face. He took a sip of his scotch, his face a mask of conflict and turmoil. 

Liam let out a heavy sigh, “I now know and have proof of the party who sent those letters.” 

“You have my full attention.” Olivia rose from her chair. “Who do you mean?” 

Liam ran his hands through his hair, “along with my father, Duke Godfrey.” 

“Godfrey confessed this to you?” Olivia gasped. 

“No, I have not personally spoken to him about this matter.... not yet. This information was given to me by a very credible source. I plan to have him interrogated very shortly.” 

“Lord Beaumont has the original letter that Riley received that night locked in his estate vault.  

Along with the photographs, from both my bachelor party in New York and the Applewood incident during my social season; these documents are all now with my legal counsel.” 

“Olivia, I need two things from you.” 

“Name it; let me be the one to interrogate that bastard!” 

Liam guffawed, “I will consider it...” I am formally asking that you partake in upcoming Royal council meetings at the palace and rejoin court.” 

Olivia was unprepared to hear that request. “Me? Why me?” Olivia asked, confounded by his request. 

“Liam, did Madeleine know about this? Was she complicit?”  

Liam downed the rest of his scotch in one gulp. “Yes, and yes.” 

New York City, Club Kismet 

“All right, kids, have a couple of drinks for me tonight,” Matteo joked as he held the front door open for Riley and Daniel. 

“Thank you, Matt, for watching William tonight.” Riley smiled as Daniel held her coat out for her to slip on. “He was at the playground all afternoon and fell asleep quickly after dinner with all that fresh air. He should sleep soundly, but if you need me for anything, please call me.” 

“Matteo has lots of experience sitting for his sister’s boys,” Daniel re assured her.

“No worries, I have lots of contracts to review tonight anyway. It’s my pleasure Riley, really.” 

Matteo pulled Riley in for a hug. “Now, go. Have a fun time dancing the night away with this one.” 

“Ha, ha, Matty,” Daniel winked and kissed Matteo good-bye. 

It was a Friday night, and the New York City streets were buzzing with people going out for a night ‘on the town’. After a lot of convincing, Daniel was finally successful at persuading Riley to go out for a drink at Club Kismet. 

The past six months of not going out and enjoying herself, it was time she started living again. 

Sitting at the bar, Daniel ordered drinks as Riley turned and surveyed the room. The club was packed, and the dance floor was full. Everyone seemed to be having an enjoyable time, which made her feel a little rueful about her decision to leave William with Daniel’s partner, Matteo, for the evening. 

She was about to turn back around to face the bar when she noticed a man sitting by himself a few seats down. Riley did a double take as she was struck by his resemblance to someone she knew. 

“Maxwell?”, Riley whispered. 

“What?” Daniel said, not hearing her clearly over the loud music. 

Riley didn’t hear him. She was too focused on the man who looked like Maxwell.  

Daniel turned his head, as Riley stood and walked towards the mystery man. 

“Maxwell?” The man looked up in surprise at the mention of his name. His eyes widened when he saw her. 

“Little blossom? Oh. My. God. it’s you!” Before she could respond, he was off his chair, engulfing her in an over-the-top hug that lifted her up off the floor and spun her around.

After many moments of laughter mixed with tears, Maxwell took Riley’s hand and together with Daniel, the trio left the club and walked towards the pier next to the Hudson River. 

“Max, thank you for coming to New York.” Riley stopped walking and sat down on a bench. 

“You two get re-acquainted. I am going to get everyone some coffee.” 

“Thank you, Daniel,” Riley looked up and smiled appreciatively.  

Sitting down next to her, Maxwell was nervously fidgeting, waiting for Riley to begin. Daniel had told him that Riley needed to speak with him urgently. This had him thinking that what she had to share was going to be dire.

Looking out at the Statue of Liberty, Riley started to get emotional. 

“I didn’t know where else to turn.” 

Maxwell’s eyes softened, picking up her hand. “Little Blossum, it's no problem at all. I am here for you.” 

Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, Maxwell pulled out his handkerchief for her and pulled her into a side hug. 

Riley smiled and gave him a quick squeeze before letting go. 

“I have a lot to tell you, so you might want to make yourself comfortable.” 

Taking a deep breath, “when I left Cordonia, I thought it was the best for Liam in the situation that we were in. I wanted him to be happy, and the situation in what I found myself in.... I could not bear the thought of him being put into a situation that could taint his rule and embarrass him.” 

Maxwell looked puzzled, “Riley were you sick? Oh no, no... are you sick?” 

“No, nothing like that, but I was wrong, Maxwell. I made a huge mistake. I should never have left.” 

“I can’t imagine how hard it must have been to leave.”  

Maxwell put his hand on her shoulder, “Liam was really upset about your leaving. He still is devastated.” Riley looked down, shaking her head,

“He misses you so much. He is not the same without you.” 

Riley’s heart broke at his words. She was devastated to hear how much she had hurt him. The guilt was overbearing.

“Maxwell, I don’t know if I can face him.” 

“Riley, I’ve known Liam since we were kids. I’ve seen him happy, sad, angry and every emotion in between. And what I can say without a doubt is that he’s never been as happy as he was with you. You have no idea how much he loves you.” 

Hanging her head, “he is going to be so mad when he finds out why I left.” 

“Maybe, but he’ll also be happy to know that you came back. That you want him too.” 

Daniel walked slowly towards the pair with a tray of coffee, overhearing the last minutes of their conversation. 

Riley bit her lip, “do you think he will forgive me?” 

“Riley, did you mention William?” Daniel interjected.

Maxwell looked at Riley, noting her shaking her head. 

He then looked up at Daniel, noting his questioning stare at Riley. 

“Why are you being so weird?”

“Who is William?” Maxwell asked, clearly puzzled, and looked at Riley. 

Riley had her head buried in her hands, weeping. 

Daniel looked at Riley sadly, “William is her son.” 

Cordonian Royal Palace 

Madeleine stepped out of the SUV as the Royal guard stood at attention. After opening the door for his Queen, he bowed as she strode confidently up the stairs and turned towards the east wing in search of Liam.  

Liam, having just arrived back to the palace from Lythikos, was in his study looking over some documents that his advisor had dropped off earlier in the morning. He was distracted by the conversation he had with Olivia on his mind and could not concentrate.  

“Your majesty”, Bastien interrupted his thoughts. 

“Queen Madeleine is here to see you; shall I bring her in?” 

Liam’s jaw clenched at the sound of her name. “Yes, send her in.” Mentally preparing himself for a confrontation by his wife, he slid the documents into a folder and sat back in his chair. 

Madeleine glided into the room, dressed impeccably as always. 

Liam rose from his chair and gave her a formal nod, “Madeleine.” 

He gestured for her to sit down and then reclaimed his seat behind the large desk. 

“Liam,” Madeleine acknowledged and in turn sat in a wing back chair across from her husband. 

“What do I owe this visit?” He asked. 

Madeleine crossed her legs and smoothed her dress, “well, we need to schedule a press announcement.” 

“An announcement?” 

“Yes, regarding the new royal line.” 

Liam frowned, “what are you talking about?” 

Madeleine gave him a patient look, “Liam, we need to announce my pregnancy.” 

Thanks for reading💖

📌@ao719 @txemrn @queenmiarys @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @alj4890 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @harleybeaumont @busywoman @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @imjusthereforliam @lovingchoices14 @kyra75 @tinkie1973 @emkay512 @malblk21 @kristinamae093 @jared2612 @irisk12 @emersyn-in-cordonia @mainstreetreader @belencha77 @walkerdrakewalker @iluaaa @mysticalfangirl @queenwalton @bascmve01 @umccall71 @choicesficwriterscreations

[trendfilmsetter]

First look at PADDINGTON IN PERU directed by Dougal Wilson.

Starring Ben Whishaw, Hugh Bonneville, Emily Mortimer, Julie Walters, Jim Broadbent, Madeleine Harris, Samuel Joslin, Olivia Colman, Antonio Banderas and Carla Tous

Releasing in theaters January 17th, 2025

[luminiferocity]

Then why does every fibre shake

As I try not to fall, as I try not to fall apart?

- As I Try Not To Fall Apart by White Lies

For the Bond who is more than just a blunt instrument

[issytheamateurnerd]

Hi Issy! For your Madeleine Timeline:

What was Madeleine up to during the Ambrose Island mission?

Thanks for the ask Mythy! I hope you enjoy this! Big thanks to @cajunandfire for helping me with this one!

Madeleine had a talent for finding places to hide. They were places where she could read or enjoy a nice view with no one ever knowing she was there.

This time she’d found a cozy spot under a balcony, behind the large electricity generator. Perfectly out of sight if someone were to pass by, yet still overlooking the vast Andaman Sea, with it's warm, salty breeze washing over her.

For security reasons, she was not allowed to interact with any of the ship’s crew. They couldn't know she was on the ship at all. However, staying in the dark quarters for an extended period of time made her nauseous.

She did feel a bit guilty for needing so much time to herself. It was overwhelming dealing with everything going on in the ship. The cramped space, planning for her father to infiltrate the Ark Society, and now having to take a detour to eliminate one of Grey’s ex-operatives. She was constantly retreating to her room or her hiding places to wind down.

Perhaps after years of living with her parents, she found it hard to fully trust her uncle. She was never really around other adults for so long, and they especially never knew her real name and identity, it felt like she was doing something wrong just by speaking to him.

Madeleine let out a silent sigh, allowing herself to melt into her book with the hum of the generator serving as white noise. She had found a way to avoid the arguing and stressful planning occuring within the ship's walls.

Perhaps this was her talent, finding peace among chaos.

That was until the slow hum of the generator abruptly stopped.

It hadn't been turned off manually, no one except her was anywhere near it, likely a malfunction.

After a few minutes, she could feel footsteps hurriedly approaching, it was Lucas's assistant, Ms. Hall.

She had barely seen Olivia, let alone spoken to her, after they met in Berlin. She spent almost all of her time with her computers, and Madeleine wondered how she wasn't horribly seasick.

Olivia mumbled angrily as she stomped over to the generator. Madeleine stayed quiet and watched her pull the cord in an attempt to restart it. When that didn't work she reverted to kicking it while swearing under her breath. Olivia hadn't noticed Madeleine sitting in the corner, and part of her didn't want her to notice. She had no clue what to say, so she said nothing.

The angry woman knelt down and pulled the generator’s panel open. She was less than four feet away from Madeleine, and yet as far as she could tell, still hadn't noticed her. Madeleine stayed completely frozen, wanting to see how long she could remain unnoticed.

Olivia dug around in the generator for a moment before ripping out the battery. After a quick examination, she tossed it aside.

“Hey, kid,” she barked, “hand me that battery behind you, this one's busted.”

Madeleine jumped and embarrassingly looked away. How long had she known she was there? Had she been trying to avoid her as well?

“The battery, behind you.” She repeated with frustration.

“Right, sorry.” Madeleine quickly tossed a bookmark in her book and grabbed the battery. It was heavier than she expected but she still passed it to Olivia.

“Thanks.” She grumbled.

She impatiently attempted to shove the battery in, but grew more agitated when it wouldn't fit properly.

“Ugh, come on! I don't have time for this.”

Madeleine stood, book still in hand, and peeked over at Olivia's attempted handywork.

“Fit! You stupid son of a-”

“You're putting it in backwards.” Madeleine commented.

“What?” Olivia turned to face her.

“The battery’s facing the wrong way.”

Olivia looked back and examined the battery. She was, in fact, trying to put it in backwards. With a soft blush of embarrassment, she rotated it. It fit perfectly with a satisfying “click.”

“Uh…thanks.” She mumbled, pulling herself up.

With a few pulls of the cord, the generator began slowly humming again.

“Maybe I have been working too hard,” Olivia sighed, “you’ve got the right idea, hiding away out here, it's nice.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” She replies somewhat awkwardly.

“What are you reading?” Olivia asked, glancing at the book in Madeleine’s hand.

“Oh, 1984 by George Orwell. It's kind of a comfort book for me.”

Olivia looked at her with a puzzled expression, “That's an… odd choice for a comfort book.”

“Well, I don't find the subjects comforting, but it's a story for me to get completely invested in. I think that's why I enjoy darker stories.”

Olivia shrugged, “Yeah I guess that makes sense.”

There was a short moment of silence between them, when Olivia suddenly said. “I could use a cup of coffee, do you wanna get something to drink?”

Madeleine was stunned for a minute. The two of them had barely looked at each other for the past few weeks and now she was offering to go hang out? She wasn't sure how to respond at first, but Olivia seemed genuine. What could it hurt?

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Olivia turned and left with Madeleine close behind her. The kitchen was just down the hall from where they were, so the walk was short.

“Do you like those Cassandra Snow novels? I feel like everyone's been talking about those for years.” Olivia asked.

“Ugh, not at all,” Madeleine replied disgustedly, “Dad had to read those for an assignment once but I could barely make it halfway through the first one.”

“What kind of assignment was that? How does reading a crappy book series help kill someone?” Olivia chuckled.

“You'd be surprised what comes in handy.” Madeleine replied vaguely. “One time he had to dress up as a clown.”

“Oh, I also know about that flamingo costume 47 wore back in Miami. I wouldn't have guessed that robot could be so amusing.”

Olivia huffed in laughter but Madeleine was silent. She avoided eye contact with Olivia even when they got to the kitchen. Madeleine sat by the counter while Olivia dug around in the pantry.

“Do you want some coffee?” She asked. Madeleine kept her eyes fixed on the counter and didn't respond .

“Hey,” Olivia snapped her fingers to get her attention.

“Don't….call him that.”

“Huh?”

“My dad, don't call him that.”

Olivia looked surprised, “Call him what? What are you talking about?”

Madeleine replied with a slightly more agitated tone, “You know, a robot. You talk like he's some kind of machine.”

Olivia bit her lip, “Look, I don't mean anything by it he's just…”

“Just what?”

“Oh come on, you know what I mean…emotionless.”

Madeleine crossed her arms, “It's not that he doesn't feel emotion, he just expresses it differently. He's still human.”

Olivia sighed and leaned against the pantry door, “Yeah, you're probably right. He's just so damn intimidating. Having him as a father must be terrifying, right? Hell, I bumped into him in the hallway and he looked like he wanted me dead.”

Madeleine’s posture relaxed, “Well, don't take it personally. He's like that with most people, but he's actually really sweet once you gain his trust. It’s just hard for him to open up to others, he never really trusted anyone other than my mom and I before you and Uncle Lucas showed up.”

“I guess I can understand that.” Olivia turned back to the cabinet and pulled a jar of coffee grounds out.

She prepared some water and started spooning the grounds into the coffee machine. “You never answered my question, do you want some coffee?”

“No thanks, I can make myself some tea.”

Madeleine moved to get up but Olivia dismissively waved her hand. “I can get it. We only have peppermint and lemon, what do you want?”

“Peppermint, please.”

She nodded and turned on the coffee maker. The kettle hand been left out from that morning, so Olivia filled it with water and put it on the stove.

“You know,” Madeleine began, “I could say something similar about Lucas.”

Olivia leaned on the counter. “In what way?” She asked.

“I just feel like he hates me. He's never rude or anything but the way he talks to me, or doesn't talk to me I should say, feels very dismissive. Although, I guess…I don't blame him for wishing I wasn't here.” Madeleine looked down at her hands.

Olivia sighed, “You definitely shouldn't take that personally. It's not that he hates you, he just…doesn't know how to except you, I guess.”

Madeleine raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“Well, think of it this way: Grey spent decades hunting Providence and tracking his long lost brother. The entire time he assumed his brother was alone, working for the ICA against his will, and killing to survive. Come to find out he's actually got a stable job, a girlfriend, and you. It's just jarring for him.”

This gave Madeleine a lot to think about. “I never considered that way. He must feel like such an outsider.”

Olivia smiled, “Give him time, he'll come around. Just know, he really does care about you. I can tell.”

A soft smile crept across Madeleine's face. Before she could say anything, the kettle whistled loudly at the same time that the coffee pot filled. Olivia turned of both appliances and poured the drinks into two mugs.

“I never liked tea that much.” Olivia commented. Even the caffeinated ones don't wake me up. It's kind of just bitter and boring.”

“Don't let my mom hear you say that. Tea is how we all relax after a long day.” she replied with a chuckle.

Olivia smirked, “Oh, right, the whole ‘British-tea-thing.’ I wouldn't want to get myself involved in all that.”

For the first time in weeks, Madeleine laughed. Suddenly she realized something. She was enjoying Ms. Hall’s company. Conversation came naturally between the two of them, and she found herself wanting to hang out with her more. It left a warm feeling in her stomach at the thought of them actually becoming friends.

Olivia handed her the mug of tea, “Here you are, your royal highness.” She said in an exaggerated British accent.

Madeleine laughed again, “Thank you, Ms. Hall.”

Olivia sat down beside her, taking a long sip from her coffee. “Please, my friends call me ‘Liv.”

Madeleine took a sip from her tea, a warmth filling her chest.

“Thanks, ‘Liv.”

[geekcavepodcast]

Paddington In Peru Trailer

Paddington's next adventure takes him to Peru to visit Aunt Lucy, who now lives at the Home for Retired Bears. "With the Brown Family in tow, a thrilling adventure ensues when a mystery plunges them into an unexpected journey through the Amazon rainforest and up to the mountain peaks of Peru." (Studiocanal)

Paddington In Peru stars Ben Whishaw (Paddington), Imelda Staunton (Aunt Lucy), Hugh Bonneville, Emily Mortimer, Antonio Banderas, Olivia Colman, Julie Walters, Madeleine Harris, Samuel Joslin, Carla Tous, and Jim Broadbent. Dougal Wilson directs.

Paddington in Peru releases to U.S. theaters on January 17, 2024.

[melis-ash]

Три любимых фильма про Джеймса Бонда (и почему они самые любимые)

Во-первых, сразу стоит сказать, что по-настоящему я фанатею только по КрейгоБондиане. Самый-самый любимый - "Скайфолл". Для меня тут идеальное соотношение драмы и экшена плюс интересный злодей. Ну и Денч!М в роли фактически девушки Бонда - это очень оригинальный и сильный ход. Потом - "Квант милосердия". Его принято ругать, но мне он кажется достаточно гармоничным, плюс я очень люблю тамошний экшен - он очень правильный по ощущениям, некомфортный и стремительный. "Квант" ни разу не выдающийся фильм, но он приятно адекватный и не вызывает фэйспалмов и желания поржать. Плюс мне понравилось, что отношения Бонда с Камиллой в этом фильме обошлись без секса, чисто боевое товарищество, тоже свежо по меркам франшизы. Замыкает тройку "Спектр". Сценарно он мне не нравится, так как распадается на две части: метафорическое путешествие в прошлое в компании личного психотерпевта и разборки разведок, обе эти линии идут параллельно, причем в разведках режиссер не силен. На мой взгляд лучше бы оставили только первую линию. Плюс там на мой взгляд довольно комичный злодей и в целом идея, что злодеи из предыдущих фильмов составляли одну организацию была неплоха на фанонном уровне, то как только стала каноном - вышло НЕ ОЧЕНЬ. А, ну и эксплуатация идеи из "Скайфолла" про главгада, выползшего из прошлого одного из персонажей - чисто бе (потому они это еще раз в "Не время умирать" сделали и тоже, на мой взгляд, все запороли. НО в "Спектре" моя любимая девушка Бонда, Мадлен Сванн и именно там она мне нравится больше всего. (Следующий фильм с ней мне вообще не зашел, ибо осталось стойкое ощущение замученного неоднократным переписыванием мертвого сценария.) Вот за Мадлен и 00Swann фильм в первой тройке.

[sophs-style]

The Daily Front Row’s 10th Annual Fashion Media Awards was held at The Rainbow Room on Friday (8th September 2023) in New York City.

Grace Elizabeth (wearing Alaïa), Sarah Jessica Parker (wearing Oscar de la Renta), Emily Ratajkowski (wearing Dolce & Gabbana), Alexandra Daddario (wearing Dior), Dove Cameron (wearing Valentino), Jordyn Woods (wearing Saint Laurent), Winnie Harlow, Martha Hunt (wearing Cinq a Sept), Nadine Leopold, Melissa Roxburgh, Madeleine White, Marianne Fonseca, Kaylin Shepherd (wearing Azazie), Cass Dimicco and Matthew Leonard Hoyle, and Olivia Caputo.

[lizzybeth1986]

How the Court is Allowed to View A Polyglot Kiara

More photodumping for the upcoming Drake and Kiara essay!

So this is a compilation of the times I remember Kiara's skill with languages being viewed with disbelief, disdain or disrespect. There may be others, but these are the earliest ones and often the people who say it get away with saying it:

TRR1 Ch 16 - If the MC chooses "dare" at the Truth or Dare game, and calls Madeleine acting as a member of the press:

(Screenshots from the HIMEME YouTube channel)

TRR1 Ch 18 - A dialogue option where the MC can "quiz" Kiara on which other languages she knows:

(Screenshots by the My Choices (Fabbylous) channel)

(Possibly Inaccurate Translation: Good day (German), my friend (Spanish). Are you happy (Italian, though I get the sense that she's saying it sarcastically like...when someone says "satisfied??" after they've answered a stupid question you asked).

TRR2 Ch 4 - At the garden party in Applewood, when Madeleine is sending veiled threats to Hana about getting a suitor:

(Screenshots from the Skylia YouTube channel)

Madeleine engages in a bizarre play of exoticization against Kiara in this scene, and her "advice" to her fails dramatically (but perhaps that was the intention?) when Rashad is unable to even understand either Kiara's French or German. As you can see from these screenshots, Kiara herself is not happy with this suggestion.

TRR2 Ch 14 - Gossiping with Adelaide

One of your gossiping options (the one that fails) is if you compliment Kiara ("Did you know that Kiara speaks more than just French?"), which gets a pretty negative response from Adelaide:

(Screenshots from @cassiopeiacorvus)

Ironic how this is one of the rare times the MC can truly compliment Kiara on her skills...and she's shot down for it!! Also it's funny how "nobody cares about Kiara's linguistic prowess" yet there are more than enough people out there just pouncing to discredit it and pretend she's lying!

TRR3 Ch 7 - Before meeting Kiara at her estate:

(Screenshots from the HIMEME YouTube channel)

There is plenty I hate about this scene (more on that in the essay) but I find it extremely sus that this shitty attitude towards Kiara's most prominent skill is allowed to go on without any pushback for three fucking books.

[karahalloway]

The Royal Romance - The Suitors - Covet Fashion Edit

A/N: In my spare time, I play a mobile game called Covet Fashion, which is a dress-up challenge game. I have been playing it for several years now, but last night, I had the idea to create sprites of the TRR suitors. The game only has female body customisation options, otherwise, I would've done the guys as well. But, here goes!

Harper

Hana

Olivia

Madeleine

Kiara

Penelope

Permatags

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[myth-blossom]

Hey, Mythy. I could use some... inspiration, you know? I don't want my Hitman hyperfixation to be over so maybe you could help a girl out?

I'm thinking a continuation of the Hitman bad ending chapter you did with Hayloft 2 but with the song Aftermath by Caravan Palace! Please and thank you ❤️

Hi Issy! I hope you enjoy this continuation of your bad ending inspired by that wonderfully chill and haunting tune. I set it after your Hayloft II song request fic as well as your Aftermath fic!

I hope it’s inspiring like you wanted ❤️ HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! 🥳

Some “Previously On” Context for Readers: 

Madeleine Burnwood (Issy’s OC, daughter of Diana and 47) was left behind on the train as serum-induced 47 was taken away by Arthur Edwards. Since then, she reunited with her mother to formulate a plan to get 47 back. 47 is sent after Madeleine but he spares her life and lies to Edwards about her demise before returning to Providence.

Madeleine knew well what her father was capable of. As the world’s greatest assassin, he was known for being cold, calculating, and efficient. If 47 was sent to kill someone, their demise was all but assured.

So why did she survive?

She replayed the moment over and over in her mind. She remembered her father approaching her, utterly menacing despite being calm and unarmed, ready to drop her over the balcony ledge at the Constant’s orders. Yet instead of falling to her death, she was dropped into the relative safety of a swimming pool below. 47 disobeyed Edwards and left Madeleine alive, lying that the kill was successful knowing full well it wasn’t. He left her to deal with the emotional aftermath as she made her escape, feeling shocked yet cautiously hopeful.

When Madeleine told Diana what happened, her mother struggled with her own mix of complicated emotions. She took a moment to hug Madeleine tightly, releasing her once she was convinced that her daughter was as well as she could be. Trauma notwithstanding, Madeleine was safe. For now, Providence thought she was dead and they would use that to their advantage.

They settled in with some tea and discussed what they learned from the encounter. Despite being injected with the serum, 47 hadn’t lost his memories. Or rather, he recognized Madeleine as someone he didn’t want to kill. Did Providence tell him who she was? Did he figure it out on his own? Would he recognize Diana and show her the same mercy he showed their daughter?

“Dad defied Edwards because of me,” Madeleine pointed out. “He might remember us if we spoke with him together. Maybe we could convince him to leave Providence.”

“It’s possible,” Diana murmured. Though the serum was first administered decades ago, 47 was able to recognize Lucas from their days at the Institute. It wasn’t until he received the antidote that he fully recalled his past. It was possible he could still retain some memory of their family now that he’d been drugged once more, or at the very least not be wholly committed to Providence. “But there’s still so much we don’t know, Madeleine. It would be incredibly dangerous.”

“I know, but it’s the best lead we have,” she shrugged. “I think it’s worth a try.”

Diana closed her eyes and took a deep breath to collect her thoughts. She could easily bait a trap so 47 would come after her, but Edwards would likely join him and hinder their plan with his presence. The Constant would undoubtedly have more planned for Diana than a simple bullet—he may even bring a team with him to assist with her extraction. Regardless, Diana wouldn’t allow Providence the chance to capture her. She refused to let Madeleine be without both of her parents.

After a moment of silence, she looked at Madeleine and nodded grimly. “Very well. But if we’re going to do this, it needs to be on our terms. We need to mitigate the risks as much as possible.” 

They decided to locate 47 first and attempt to get him alone before confronting him. They hoped to send him a message that only he would recognize, something inconsequential enough that the Constant wouldn’t become suspicious at his response. Unfortunately, the resources for locating 47 were few. The ICA was gone and Diana had no other contacts to enlist to track his location, or at least none that weren’t possibly compromised by an association with Providence. She feared their plan was over before it could begin.

“Well,” Madeleine began. “There is one person we could call—“

Diana shook her head. “I’m not sure she wants us contacting her anymore. She’s been through enough.”

“Do we have any other choice?” 

“No,” her mother sighed. “I suppose we don’t.”

———

Delriego directed Madeleine to a diner that had seen better days, its seats cracked and counters worn from decades of steady service. She noticed the coffee makers were older than she was as she scouted for cameras, confirming there were none to be found in the building. She respected its appeal for a hacker’s business meeting.

Madeleine walked to the back and slid into the green booth facing away from the entrance as Delriego instructed. She shook the rain from her coat but left her hood on, hoping she wouldn’t immediately be recognized and abandoned before she had the chance to speak. Though no one was actively smoking in the area, she recognized a familiar scent of tobacco lingering in the booth, the flavor reminiscent of the cigarettes Uncle Lucas smoked at the safehouse. Perhaps the diner held more value for its memories than its meetings.

The bell jingled above the entrance as a patron walked in, their wet shoes squeaking loudly towards the green booth. A backpack was gently tossed into the seat across the table before its owner settled in beside it. Madeleine lowered her hood as Delriego shook off the remnants of rain. When their eyes met, she froze. 

“I should’ve known it was you,” she muttered.

“Hi, Liv.”

“No,” Olivia said firmly, crossing her arms with a scowl. “Don’t ‘Hi Liv’ me. Whatever this is, the answer is no.”

“I wouldn’t be here if there was another option.” Madeleine folded her hands on the table. “Mom and I need your help.”

“Is that supposed to convince me? That hearts and flowers crap didn’t work out so well for Lucas,” she said bitterly.

Madeleine swallowed hard and looked down at her lap. “I’m so sorry, Olivia. Uncle Lucas, he…he didn’t deserve that.”

Olivia’s glare softened as a brief silence fell between them. Madeleine felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes.

“For what it’s worth, I really miss him.”

“Yeah, well I…I really miss him, too.” Olivia shook her head and reached for her backpack before sliding out of the booth. “Take care of yourself, Madeleine.”

She steeled herself to leave and took a step forward, half-expecting Madeleine to reach out for her in stubborn protest. But Madeleine kept still as she spoke, the fear in her small voice giving Olivia pause.

“They have my dad.”

Olivia turned to face her, her expression unreadable.

“He’s in trouble, Liv,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice even. “And you’re the only person who can help us get him back.”

Olivia closed her eyes and sighed deeply. Madeleine sniffed and quickly wiped a stray tear from her cheek. She blinked in surprise as two menus were tossed onto the table.

“Liv, I…“

“Save it. You’re paying,” Olivia said as she slid into the booth. She pushed a menu over to Madeleine. “Food first, plan second.”

“…thank you,” she whispered.

“Don’t mention it,” Olivia replied. “We’ll find your robot.”

Madeleine smiled, hope blooming in her chest.

“I know we will.”