#a trr fanfic

[tessa-liam]

Chance of a Lifetime

Chance of a Lifetime 

Thank you @kyra75 for your ask -- prompt #2, Rainy/Snow Day for @choicesprompts -- Flufftober event! 

Choices Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2 -- timeline/the engagement tour in Paris 

Pairing:               Liam Rys x Riley Brooks (F!MC) 

Rating:                mature 

Category:           fluff, one-shot, ask/prompt 

Words:                 2.4K, with sprinkles of Canon

A/N1: not Beta'd, please excuse all errors. 

AN2: my submission for@choicesmonthlychallenge Prompts: pets/holding hands/laughter 

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Stretching her arms over her head, Riley slowly opened one eye as she heard the familiar knock on her cabin door. The morning sun shone through the train window and across her bed. She softly smiled and swung her legs over the side, her feet touching the cool floor. She yawned and walked over to the door, pulling it open. 

"Rise and shine, queen-to-be!" Maxwell Beaumont was his usual jubilant self. "Did you sleep well, little blossom? I brought you some breakfast!" 

The rich aroma of medium roast coffee hit her senses while Chance jumped up excitedly at the smell of pancakes and bacon. ‘Arf ... Arf ...’ 

“Ah, yes. My entrance is welcomed by the corgi choir." 

"That smells amazing. Thank you soooo much, Max." 

"You are very welcome, Your Majesty," Maxwell winked, giving a little bow and grinning at her. "You'd better hurry and get ready." 

The Royal court was in Paris, France; today's event ... the Royal tea party.

Riley took the tray from Maxwell, and Chance sat at her feet. "Good morning, little pup," Maxwell cooed, as Chance happily accepted a pet and scratch behind his ears. 

"So, are you ready for afternoon tea with the former queen?" Maxwell asked. 

"Yeah, I guess. She's not exactly my favorite person, but... I'm still curious." 

"She's a formidable woman," Maxwell shuddered. 

"But on the bright side, this could be the perfect opportunity to corner her about her involvement with the scandal and get your answers!" 

"I hope you're right," Riley sighed, slipping Chance a small piece of bacon.  

"At a public event, she'll be caught off guard! She won't be able to run off or dodge you."  Max added.

"And if she's not forthcoming, we might be able to do a little digging with the other nobles at the tea party." 

"That's the spirit!" Maxwell grinned. "If you ever need a little extra confidence, you know who to call." 

"Yes. Thank you for everything, Max." 

"Of course. But first, get ready for the day! We don't want to be late!" 

‘Arf!’ Chance barked, agreeing with him. 

"Can Chance come?" Riley wondered aloud. 

"I wish he could, but the venue doesn't allow pets. I'll bring him along to the duchy later, though." 

"Okay, that's good, thanks, Max." 

"Now, go and get ready. Don't worry about a thing. I've got the corgis covered. See you at the tea party!" Maxwell gave Riley a mock salute before he closed her door behind him. 

After finishing her breakfast and a quick shower, Riley pulled out a gorgeous light blush dress with a delicate floral print. She applied her makeup, dried her hair, then snapped a gold barrette into place. 

She stepped out of the train and went into the waiting limousine. After a short drive, Riley arrived at the extravagant tea party at an uptown Parisian hotel. It was a beautiful spring day, and the hotel was decorated with the finest flower arrangements. 

Riley entered the formal tearoom; hearing soft, elegant music and people's chatter. The room was decorated with luxurious chandeliers and intricate floral arrangements. Tables were covered with fine linen tablecloths, and chairs were upholstered in plush velvet. A small orchestra was playing softly in the corner, and servers were carrying trays laden with exquisite tea sets and delicious-looking cakes. Riley recognized a few ladies and gentlemen from the court, but everyone else was a mystery. 

She spotted Madeleine and Hana chatting at the far end of the hall. As she approached, Madeleine spotted her and quickly ended the conversation with Hana. 

"Lady Riley, its good of you to join us."  

"This is lovely; I am drowning in ruffles," Riley quipped. 

"I'm afraid that's one of the finer points of an elegant event like this one. To be honest, I wouldn't expect you to appreciate it lady Riley, so don't strain yourself." 

"Oh, we wouldn't want that, would we?" Riley countered, rolling her eyes. 

"Well, do try to enjoy yourself." Madeleine sauntered off before Riley could say anything else. 

"Wow. That was... nice." Riley responded sarcastically under her breath. Stepping to the side, trying to read the place cards, she bumped into someone. 

"Well, hello. What a pleasure to see you here, Lady Riley. You look stunning, as always." Liam smiled, expressing tenderness as he kissed her cheek.

"Liam! Thank you. It's great to see you, too! I didn't think you'd be here." 

"My schedule's been quite busy lately. I am only here to make the opening remarks. I was actually hoping to spend some time with you after this event." 

"That would be wonderful." Riley answered, delightedly. 

"It's been too long. I'd love to hear how you're doing." 

"Liam, ...wishing I could kiss you right now." 

"Lady ... Riley you shouldn't say such things." Liam murmered as he looked at her hungrily, his eyes sweeping over her face. 

"Maybe I'm hoping you'll get a little reckless."  Riley whispered.

“Maxwell mentioned that you recently adopted a puppy.” 

Riley’s eyes lit up, a smile tugging at her lips. 

"Oh, yeah, his name is Chance. He's a little ball of orange and white fluff. He was lost when Maxwell found him.” 

"That sounds wonderful. I'm glad you're enjoying his company." 

"He's a really good boy. He's so friendly and happy. He loves to play, and he's really good at fetching." 

"I can't wait to meet him. Maybe I'll even steal him from you," Liam teased. 

"You can try, but I'm pretty sure he'd choose me," Riley shot back, her eyes sparkling with mirth. 

"I would love to meet him sometime. In fact, we could spend the afternoon together at the park."  

"That sounds lovely." 

Noticing dignitaries walking towards them, behind Riley, Liam sighs regrettedly,

"I fear our time alone is coming to an end ... I better greet these guests. But, please wait for me. I don't want to delay any longer to spend some time with you. Let's go after the tea party." 

"Okay."  Riley beamed

"There's a break in the tour schedule tonight so I can slip out for the night. See you later?" Liam looked at her pleadingly. 

"Yes, Liam ... later." 

Riley felt the heat rise in her cheeks and butterflies in her stomach as Liam kissed her cheek, letting his lips linger on her cheek.   

 Squeezing her hand, Liam turned away to greet the nobles.  

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Placing the linen table napkin on her lap, Riley’s attention was pulled to the sound of Madeleine's voice as she stepped in front of a microphone on the dais. As she begins her formal address to the court, Olivia slid into the chair next to Riley. 

“I never liked her.” 

“You don't like anyone, Liv.” 

“True, but I especially dislike her.” 

“Oh, dear, let's get something to drink.” Hana responds trying to change the subject of conversation. 

“Of course, let's engage in frivolous social conversation and engage in witty banter.” Olivia snidely responds. Her mood quickly turning despondent as she watched the King address the room. 

Riley noticed her abrupt change in mood as her expression shifted to sadness as she watched Liam across the room. 

“Olivia, are you okay?” Riley asked in a whisper as Olivia shakes her head, “No ... he's engaged to Madeleine and in love with you ... I can't help how I feel about him, can I?” 

"Olivia, I think --"

Abruptly standing up from the table, “at least I still have my pride. Just let me leave with it.” 

Olivia walked out without looking back. Hana watched her leave with a concerned look on her face. “I wonder what that was about.” 

Riley bit her lip as she turned her gaze to regard Hana.

“I hope she's able to sort things out. She's been through so much."

"Speaking of which ... how are you doing, Riley?” 

“I'm holding up okay,”  Riley sighed, seeing the opportunity to talk to Queen Regina.

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After a disappointing conversation with the queen mother, and later, saying goodbye to Hana ...

Riley looked up to see Liam waiting for her at the front entrance, appearing eager to spend some time together.

Riley couldn't help but smile as she approached him.

"Your Majesty," she dipped into a small curtsy, smiling coyly.

"Lady Riley," Liam greeted her, a smile lighting up his face.

As he escorted Riley to his SUV, Liam leaned close and softly spoke,

"we'll be having company." Liam chuckled at her confused look, as the sliding passenger door opened. 

Riley peeked inside and saw a fluffy ball of orange and white fur curled up on the back seat. "Chance!" 

Chance's ears perked up at the sound of her voice. He jumped out of the car, barking happily. He jumped around her, wagging his tail so fast that his entire butt shook. 

Riley laughed, dropping to her knees. Chance jumped into her lap, licking her face. 

Liam grinned. "Looks like he missed you."

"Aw, I missed you, too."

Arriving at a Parisian dog park, the crisp autumn air filled Riley's lungs as she breathed deeply. Puffy, white and gray clouds were overhead, and the trees were ablaze with red, orange and yellow around you.

Riley and Liam walked hand-in-hand, Chance trotting ahead of them. The leaves crunched under their feet, and the sounds of children playing nearby filled the air. 

"It's such a beautiful day," Riley remarked, looking around. 

"It is," Liam agreed. "Autumn is my favorite season. I love the changing colors of the leaves, and the way the air feels chilled." 

Riley looked over at Liam, admiring the way his blue eyes shone in the sunlight. "I love the way you see the world, Liam." 

"Likewise. You make me want to see everything in a new light." 

They continued walking, taking in the beauty of the park. Chance ran ahead, chasing birds and squirrels. 

As they rounded a bend, Riley spotted a man and his dog. She watched as the man tossed a ball, and the dog darted after it. The dog returned, the ball in his mouth, and the man pet him lovingly. 

"That's what I want," Riley said suddenly. "To have a relationship with Chance like that." 

"You will," Liam assured her. "Chance loves you, and you're already doing a great job with him. You're a natural." 

As they reached the center of the park, Riley looked up. The sky was now darker; the sun hidden by the clouds.

"I wish we could just stay here, in this moment," Riley breathed. "It's perfect." 

"It is." Liam gazed into her eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. 

Riley leaned closer, and Liam closed the distance between them. Their lips met, and Riley felt her heart flutter. Liam's lips were soft and warm, and Riley sighed contentedly. 

The moment was interrupted by the sudden downpour of rain. Riley squealed and grabbed Liam's arm. 

"Let's get under the gazebo," Liam chuckled, bending down to pick up Chance.

They ran to the shelter of the gazebo, laughing and wiping the rain from their faces. 

"Well, that was unexpected," Riley giggled. 

"I'll say," Liam laughed. 

Riley wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. This time, the kiss was deeper, more passionate. 

They stayed under the gazebo, kissing, as the rain fell around them. It was a perfect moment, and Riley never wanted it to end. 

"Lady Riley," Liam breathed. 

"Hmm?" 

"You're getting wet." 

"I am." 

"And you don't even seem to care." 

"I don't." 

Liam laughed, shaking his head. "What am I going to do with you?" 

"I can think of a few things," Riley grinned, kissing him again. 

Liam returned the kiss fervently, wrapping his arms around her tightly. They stayed under the gazebo, the rain pouring down around them, lost in each other. 

They pulled apart reluctantly as Chance barked and ran onto the grass and runs quickly back over to them, with a ball in his mouth. 

"It seems he's ready for a game of fetch," Liam chuckled. 

"I'm ready, too," Riley said, winking at Liam. 

"Let's play." 

Riley tossed the ball for Chance, and they both laughed as they joined the chase, returning to the downpour outside of the gazebo.

Riley giggled as she spun around, her arms extended. Liam grabbed her hands and pulled her close, the rain dripping from their hair.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Liam stroked her cheek and gently moved her hair behind her ear.

Riley's breath caught in her throat.. She didn't know what to say.

"Liam," she whispered.

Liam leaned down, his lips brushing hers. Riley's heart raced, and she kissed him back, the rain falling around them. Liam's hands were warm on her back, and she pressed herself closer to him, deepening the kiss.

It was the most perfect moment Riley could have imagined. She didn't want it to end.

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the park. The rain had stopped, and the air smelled fresh and clean. Riley and Liam were walking hand-in-hand, Chance trotting along beside them. 

"Today was wonderful," Riley said. "Thank you, Liam." 

"I should be the one thanking you," Liam replied. "You've brought so much happiness into my life." 

"You deserve all the happiness in the world, Liam," Riley said, smiling up at him. 

Liam leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. Riley's heart fluttered, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. 

"I want to show you something," Liam murmured, breaking the kiss. 

"What is it?" 

"Come on." Liam took her hand and led her down a path, Chance following close behind. 

"Where are we going?" Riley asked, her curiosity piqued. 

"It's a surprise." Liam grinned, and Riley's heart skipped a beat. 

They walked through the park, the sunset painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. Riley could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance, and the streets of Paris were bustling with activity. 

"Close your eyes," Liam said. 

"Okay." Riley did as he asked, trusting him completely. 

"Now, take my hand and step forward." 

Liam's hand was warm and strong, and he guided her carefully. After a few steps, he stopped. 

"Can I open my eyes?" 

"Not yet," Liam chuckled.

Riley waited patiently, the anticipation building. 

"Okay," Liam said. "Open your eyes." 

Riley opened her eyes, and gasped. They were standing at the edge of the lake, and the water reflected the sky perfectly. The colors were vibrant, and the Eiffel Tower was lit up, casting a golden glow over everything. 

Riley's hand was warm in his. Liam glanced at her and smiled. They were walking through the park, the stars twinkling above. Chance was trotting alongside them, his tongue hanging out. 

"It's such a beautiful night," Riley remarked, looking up at the sky. 

"It is," Liam agreed. "Though I am a bit hungry." 

"I'm starving," Riley laughed. "All that exercise has me worked up an appetite." 

"Let's head back to the train, then." Liam started leading them towards the edge of the park. 

"Oh, no, you don't," Riley teased, tugging him back. "I have a better idea." 

"What's that?" 

"Let's grab some food first and then bring it back to the train." 

"Sounds like a plan," Liam grinned. 

"There's a little café not far from here. We could get something to go." 

"Perfect." 

"C'mon, Chance," Riley called. "You're eating too!"

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@choicesprompts @flufftober @lovealexhunt @choicesficwriterscreations @angelasscribbles @kyra75 @choicesmonthlychallenge @choicescommunityevents

[angelasscribbles]

Squid Stuff

Things that Maxwell Beaumont definitely owns:

Clothes that are definitely in his closet:

Don't think Riley gets away from participating:

[karahalloway]

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

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

Word Count: 4,300

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

Chapter theme song:

Chapter 20 - Steal Me Away

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

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

But it really is him.

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

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

"What are you doing here?" I blurt.

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

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

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

My eyes widen. "Wha—! No! I—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ch'è qualche problema?"

"No!" Drake and I snap in unison.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I open my mouth to retort...

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

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

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

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

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

Drake starts as he gets clapped roundly on the back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Lo so..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Clearly not hard enough."

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

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

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

"That's putting it mildly."

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

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

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

His mouth hardens.

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

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

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

"I said I'll think about it."

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

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

My eyes narrow. "That's not—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then why the heck did you get it!"

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

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

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

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

"You drive, then."

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

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

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

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

"Somehow I doubt that..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How will that—?"

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

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

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

"You still holding the break?"

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

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

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

"You could've been more specific!"

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

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

"Turn her on, then."

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

"The one by your right thumb."

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

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

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

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

I stick my tongue out at him.

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

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

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

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

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

"Shut up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Anything else?" I ask, somewhat nervously.

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

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

"How will I know that?"

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

I bite my bottom lip.

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

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

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

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

The Piaggio begins to creep forward.

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

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

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

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

I flush inadvertently. "I am relaxed."

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

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

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

"So much for this being easy..."

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

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

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

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

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

"Why? What's—?"

I get my answer as we round a corner and come parallel to a busier-looking road.

Great...

"Right here, then first left," Drake advises as we approach a somewhat complicated-looking three-way intersection.

"Umm... Okay..." I mumble, eyeing up the noticeably faster-moving traffic on the main road with more than a bit of trepidation.

"No one's gonna give you room, so you'll have to gun it," comes the no-nonsense tip from behind me. "The indicator is by your left thumb."

A Fiat whizzes past, but the next car is some distance away. Taking a breath, I flick the indicator on and twist down on the throttle to merge into the gap.

"Move over one more," Drake shouts over my shoulder. "You're taking up the bus lane."

"Where the heck does it say that?" I demand, casting my head around in confusion.

"On the sign we just passed..."

"Was it invisible?"

"Hey," counters Drake. "You wanna argue with me, or a cop?"

"Neither," I concede sourly, making the switch to the left-side lane after a quick check in the mirror. "But they could've made it more obvious..."

Drake scoffs. "It's Rome. The bastards are trying to catch you out."

"Clearly," I agree, taking a left at the traffic lights...

...straight into a two-way fork in the road.

"Umm... What now?" I squeak, trying to hedge my bets as much as I can in the rapidly shrinking room that I have to make a decision before I run into the curb.

"Stay left."

I start to turn the bike, only to yank it back violently with a yelp as a car that I hadn't realised was trying to overtake me blows past with a scream of its horn.

"Vaffanculo!" yells Drake, throwing his hand out angrily at the other driver.

"Ohmygod..." I rasp, my entire body shaking in the wake of the near miss.

"Fuckin' asshole," gripes Drake. "You okay?"

I swallow thickly past the lump in my throat. "I... think so."

"If you need to pull over..."

I shake my head. "No. I'm fine. I just..."

"...get a kick outta playing chicken?"

"I don't do it on purpose!"

"You sure?" he asks dryly. "'Cause you definitely seem to be making a habit of it..."

I open my mouth, but quickly think better of it... as Drake has a point. I have had a few too many near misses lately. "Sorry... It isn't intentional. I thought that since I'd left the indicator on, that—"

"I know," he assures me, laying a hand on my hip again. "I'm not blaming you. But all the calls you've had have been too close. And..." His fingers tighten against the material of my dress. "I just don't want you to—"

"I know," I concede softly. "I don't want that either. And I'm not normally this accident-prone, I promise..."

"Except when your blood sugar's low," he corrects wryly.

His words cause me to clench my eyes together in consternation. "Damn it, the croissants..."

In the whirlwind of Drake's surprise reappearance, I'd forgotten all about the primary reason for sneaking away from the bridal boutique.

"What croissants?" queries Drake.

"The pistachio ones I was supposed to get from this little bakery next to the fountain that the Italian President had recommended."

I feel Drake's disbelieving gaze knife into the back of my head. "Seriously? That's the reason you were out playing hooky?"

"One of them, yes..." I reply evasively.

"Putain de merde..."

"Apparently they're very good..."

Drake mutters something under his breath. "Pull over."

My eyes widen. "What? Why?"

"Because it's past noon, and you're clearly starving."

"I'm fine," I insist, even though the only thing of substance I've had since this morning was the cup of coffee on Olivia's jet. "I'll just grab something when—"

The Piaggio lurches to a stop as Drake slaps a hand on the break. "No. You won't."

My eyes widen as my feet fly out on instinct to steady the suddenly stationary moped. "Why not?"

"Because the staff at the embassy already have their work cut out pulling together tonight's dinner, so the kitchen is off-limits," he explains, hopping off the back. "And you won't be able to take two steps outside to grab a sandwich without picking up a pap tail."

"Then why have we stopped in a dead-end alley?" I ask in disbelief as Drake pulls the moped it onto its kickstand while I'm still sat gaping at him from the seat.

"Because we just passed one of the best restaurants in Rome," he states. "So, I'm buying you lunch."

His cinnamon-laced eyes meet mine, and I see a sudden flash of rawness in his gaze... a silent plea entreating me to say yes. Which means this is about more than just food.

"Okay," I accede, wondering what could've prompted such a sudden change of heart. "But what about the paps? Aren't you worried we'll get spotted?"

"See any people?" asks Drake, reaching across my lap to turn the ignition off.

"No, but—"

"Exactly," he affirms, pocketing the keys. "This is one of the few places in the city where you ain't gonna bump into a reporter."

"How do you know?"

"Because apart from the fact that Sugo actually makes its own pasta, it is also a stone's throw from Parliament," he explains, offering me a hand to help me off the bike. "Which means that pencil pushers from every level of government come here to ink deals over carbonara, so no one — staff included — is gonna mess with the status quo."

"Sounds like something out of a mafia movie..."

"Where d'you think Hollywood gets its ideas from?" he drawls, pulling his helmet off to stow it in the under-seat compartment. "Places like this. Which is why no one will bother us here. Especially not the paps. It'd be a death sentence for this joint if their tight and discreet ship suddenly sprung a leak."

"Good to know," I acknowledge, unclipping the clasp of my own helmet. "But how did you even find out about this place? Let alone got in?"

"Leo," Drake replies, taking my helmet to clip it onto the handlebar. "He's on a first name basis with the chef."

I quirk a brow at him. "Sounds like there's a story there..."

Drake extricates my bag from the glove box with scoffs. "It's Leo. There's never not a story. But let's get you inside first. Before you pass out on the pavement."

"I'm not going to—" My stomach rumbles in pointed disagreement. "Okay, I am hungry. But where exactly is this place? There's nothing here apart from the back-ends of buildings..."

"Have I ever let you down when it comes to food?" he asks with a raised brow.

"No..."

"Then trust me."

The story continues in Chapter 21 - You Give Me Reason

A/N: Translations for the Italian below:

Ch'è qualche problema? - Is there a problem?

Ah... l'amore... non è bello se non è litigarello. - Ah, love... It is not beautiful if it does not quarrel.

Err... Sì. Sto certamente imparando che a mio spese... - Err... Yes. I am definitely learning that the hard way.

Non capita a tutti? - Don't we all?

Err... La saluto. E scusi il disturbo... - Err... Farewell. And apologies for disturbing you.

Eh! Chi non risica non rosica. Ma è meglio stare attenti con lei! Donna buona – vale una corona. - Eh! No risk, no reward! But you better take care of her! Good woman – worth a crown.

Lo so... - I know...

Vaffanculo! - Fuck you!

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Ghosted

Ghosted — Betrayal (Chapter Twelve)

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

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

A/N 1 - This AU starts right before the beginning of the engagement tour. There is a two-month lapse between the coronation and where we pick up, but we will stray from canon. Please excuse any errors found. Not beta'd.

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

Tags - @choicesficwriterscreations

It's another long one 😬👉👈🥹. Oops.

Liam and Drake closely followed as the guards led Bastien into the depths of the Portavirian estate. The halls remained eerily quiet as the nobility slept; not a soul to be found other than those involved with Penelope’s homicide investigation. Neither male spoke a word, but both reeled in this blindsiding revelation.

The betrayal Liam felt was like no other. Bastien was like a father to him, always around when he needed someone, but now he wondered if he ever knew him. Bastien saw him at his lowest and protected him at all costs, but somewhere along the way he changed; he couldn’t determine when that shift happened or if his guard was that good of a deceiver from the start, and felt like a fool for not seeing his insubordination sooner. It didn’t matter what he said, nor how much he pleaded; Liam already knew he was guilty, but didn’t know the extent of his involvement.

So many unanswered questions ran rampant through his mind, but ultimately the one he cared about was, where is Riley? The scandal was no longer relevant; all that mattered was finding her and ensuring she was safe. Justice would be served to all who deserved it later but right now, she was the top priority. That wasn’t a new revelation, but the urgency suddenly skyrocketed.

Liam did his best to stay afloat, but couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. If Riley was still in the country, what did that mean? Was she being held hostage somewhere? Would a ransom note appear at some point? Is she even alive? The continuous spiral intensified and formed a vortex of frustration and confusion, enveloping him from the inside out. He wanted to scream and cry to the heavens, anything to relieve some of the never-ending tension slowly constricting his muscles. Every second that passed without knowing she was safe, he grew weaker, feeling control slip right through his fingertips. The never-ending vat of unanswered questions took their physical and mental toll on Liam as a monarch and man alike.

However, every ounce of strength that remained pushed him forward. The adrenaline coursing through his veins mindlessly carried him, as he and Drake walked in deafening silence.

They continued until they entered a dark room with a table and two chairs. The guards sat Bastien down on one side and secured shackles in place over his wrists, much to his displeasure. Liam took the seat that mirrored his, shooing the bystanders out as he did. Drake lingered close by, reeling in his feelings of hurt, betrayal, and anger. Bastien quieted, but his entire body went rigid after his former subordinates exited the room. Liam placed his hands on the table and stared at them for a long while, trying to slow the wild rush inside his mind.

He finally raised his head and spoke to Bastien in the flattest, calmest tone he could muster. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“I don’t, sir.”

“First, let’s talk about Penelope. You and I both know she did not take her own life, so I’m curious to know how you came to that conclusion.”

Bastien furrowed his brow. “Not to be forward, but she was literally hanging from the ceiling… We found a note in her room, and she had every reason to want to do it — considering she was about to be arrested.”

“Right… Speaking of that… I want to see that report again.”

“Pardon?”

“The report — the one that says Penelope’s DNA was all over the murder weapon because honestly, I think you’re full of shit.” Liam hissed.

“I most certainly am not, sir. The documents are in the security office. If you remove these cuffs, I will gladly retrieve them.” Bastien confidently responded.

“That won’t be necessary.” Liam knew if he told the truth, Olivia would find them and if she didn’t, Bastien just caught himself in another lie. “Now, the next order of business — where were you the night of the jamboree? I don’t remember seeing you at all.”

Bastien stiffened. “I was doing security checks around the estate—”

“If you were doing security checks, how’d a rogue photographer make it in?” Drake interjected.

Bastien swallowed thickly, his gulp echoing in the silence. “... What?”

“You heard what he said — answer the damn question.” Liam snapped.

“She must have—”

“She?” Liam interrupted with a chortle. “That’s funny — because I never mentioned gender. Do you know something that I don’t?”

“I only took a guess — there was a fifty percent chance I would be correct.” Bastien calmly, yet firmly, answered with a dismissive shrug. “I’m not precisely sure how they breached the perimeter, but we’ve been working to strengthen our units ever since.”

“Right…” Liam nodded and forcefully clenched his jaw. It took every ounce of his restraint not to reach across the table and wrap his hands around Bastien’s throat because he couldn’t trust a single word coming out of his mouth.

Drake spoke again before Liam could act on his intrusive thoughts. “What about the Apple Banquet? Where were you then?”

“I was with His Majesty while he spoke to the Beaumonts. Someone alerted me to the body, and I immediately sprung into the proper protocol.”

“No, not when the maid was found — earlier. Where were you before that?” Liam demanded.

Bastien hesitated, but quickly fixed his features. “I was addressing an issue regarding Countess Madeleine’s security arrangements. Her old guard needed to take personal leave, so I had to find a suitable replacement.”

“... And she will vouch for you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Liam’s frustration skyrocketed, as he didn’t know how to take that statement. The number of people he could trust seemed to only shorten by the day, yet Madeleine was never present, nor even an honorable mention on that list; the time to trust her word was not amid this chaos.

“Okay, then—” Liam started again, his agitation noticeably rising. “Do you know where Riley is?”

“I don’t, sir. All I know is she returned to New York, and—”

“How did you come to that conclusion, exactly? Because I’ve done some digging and found nothing to point to that. There are no traces of her after she left the jamboree whatsoever, Bastien; not flights, not vehicles — nothing.”

Bastien shifted in his seat. “My information led me to that conclusion, Your Majesty.”

“Well, your information was wrong, and I can’t help but feel you knew that all along, didn’t you?”

“I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, but—”

“You knew she didn’t return to New York because you took her away, right? Is that how she made it out undetected? Or are you the one who assaulted her?” Liam thought back to his out-of-body experience and remembered the shadow lingering in front of her door. “Or did you stand guard while it happened? Is that it?”

“I did no such thing.” Bastien hastily replied, but cleared his throat and added, “What would I gain from any of this? Why would I give a damn who you choose?”

“That’s kind of what I’m wondering.” Drake inserted with a skeptical eye. “Look, Bas — I don’t want to believe you had a hand in all this, but it’s not looking good, man.”

“What doesn’t look good?” Bastien returned. “All I’ve done is look for her! I’ve been trying to help you!”

“Bullshit,” Liam seethed. “You know something and I demand you tell me — right now.”

“I know nothing, sir. I’ve kept you updated on every piece of information uncovered.”

“You need to understand something —” Liam's breaths turned heavy and his face flushed every shade of crimson. “I am not fucking around. This is your final opportunity — if you know something and do not tell me, I will serve your head on a silver fucking platter at the next state function. Is that clear enough for you?” He rumbled through clenched teeth. The hand he raised to point at Bastien visibly trembled, as the dam broke and rage flowed freely through his body.

Bastien’s eyes widened, and he visibly swallowed. He quickly composed himself and softly answered, “I understand the circumstances have been — tense — for everyone involved. You’ve had a rough couple of weeks, and —”

Liam slammed his fist onto the table and shot up from his seat. “Do NOT fucking patronize me!” He bellowed.

The door suddenly swung open and Olivia marched inside. In her hands, she carried a folder along with a few smaller items, but her facial expression was the picture-perfect image of unrestrained fury. “You have a lot of explaining to do.” She rumbled as she bore her eyes into Bastien.

Never could she have imagined the man sitting before her would betray them in such a way, but now they had proof; undeniable, unavoidable, but yet — incredibly unsettling evidence.

Bastien audibly gulped as he recognized the documents and all traces of pigment in his complexion vanished. With so much going on, he didn’t have the chance to dispose of everything properly. Liam and his group of friends moved faster than anticipated, and with their unexpected changes to the tour, he fell behind. The important information was extracted long ago, but what remained was still very incriminating — for Bastien.

Powerful forces expected him to pull off the impossible, but he was only one person — how was he supposed to fend off four people, plus a hired professional? Multiple ends that should’ve received immediate attention didn’t. Penelope ranked fairly high on that list, but his concerns got cast aside. His instructions were to deflect, deter, and stay silent regarding the madness; trust the process and your reward will be bountiful, they would say. Regardless, he didn’t want to aid in this crazy scheme, but had no choice — they knew information about his past nobody should have uncovered, so he found himself backed into a corner.

But as Bastien stared at the evidence of his transgressions, he realized silence would no longer be an option. He knew one way or another at that moment he was as good as dead; the question was would it be at the hands of his seething monarch, the man he practically raised, or the people who made his life a living hell to begin with?

Olivia rifled through the things on the table until she found what she searched for. “Remember when Bastien told you he disposed of Riley’s phone and her note?” She held both items up to show everyone along with her letter, noting how the guard immediately tucked his chin into his chest. “The penmanship matches mine, meaning it’s the same as Penelope’s.”

Liam forcefully clenched his jaw. “You lied to me?”

“That’s not all,” Olivia continued. “Bastien told us Penelope is the one who killed the maid, but that’s not true. Sure, the gum was hers — hair too — but the funny thing is that as it turns out, there are two sets of results on that knife.”

“There’s not—”

Olivia cackled, cutting Bastien off. “Don’t even try to lie. I’m holding what appears to be the real results in my hands. What kind of moron keeps the original if he’s planning on cloning it to frame someone else? Fucking nitwit.” She shook her head, distaste lacing her words. “Of course, we’ll have these confirmed for legitimacy, but considering who this one lists as the culprit, I can see why you’d want to cover this up.”

Liam snatched the documents from her and scanned them. His eyes widened as he went through the text, his jaw falling further and further the longer he read. Penelope's fingerprints were on the murder weapon, but unlike the last report he saw, this one went more in-depth. Her DNA might've been on the knife, but only one or two barely distinguishable smears on the blade itself belonged to her. However, the lab noted prominent traces from someone else located everywhere, but mostly on the handle, indicating that their person of interest should be whoever the second set of prints belonged to.

But Liam never received this report, and when he read who the database found as the owner of that second set of prints, he realized why he wasn’t shown.

“It was you…” Liam gasped, finally tearing his attention off the file to center his glare on Bastien. “Why?”

Bastien remained silent. He kept his gaze locked on the table, but the sweat forming on his brow wasn’t unnoticed.

“We know why, Liam. He was trying to shut her up because she spoke with us. And that’s why he offed Penelope too — right, Bastien?” Olivia answered. “Dispose of the loose ends before they can out you?”

“I did not harm Lady Penelope in any way,” Bastien stated with utmost determination, looking directly into Olivia’s steely eyes as he did.

“But you know who did, and you were working to bury that too, correct?” She quickly retorted, arching her brow.

Bastien clenched his jaw and looked away, refusing to speak, but he didn’t need to — Olivia knew she was right.

“You can deny those accusations all you want, but the next ones will be fairly difficult to talk yourself out of,” Olivia snapped as she produced another file and showed it to everyone.

“Operation Ghost?” That title caught Liam’s attention, and his mouth fell agape when he read it. He flipped through the papers inside and realized this was a meticulously planned mission, not a coincidence. While he spiraled deeper into the abyss, further away from reality, intentional carnage ran rampant within his court, and it was all a part of the elaborate plan from the beginning.

Someone plotted to hurt Riley and take her away from him, and that thought momentarily left him breathless.

“Apparently so,” Olivia answered, remorse cracking through her stony features upon seeing Liam’s broken shock. She’d already searched the file and knew what lay ahead, but didn’t know how he would react; it wouldn’t be good regardless. “Someone altered or destroyed most of this —” She paused to throw a death glare at Bastien. “But… There’s something else…”

“What is it?” Drake inquired as he and Liam took in her hesitancy, causing the hair on the nape of their necks to stand at attention.

With a heavy sigh, Olivia opened an envelope and produced a few smaller documents. She slammed them down on the table one at a time, directly in Bastien’s downward cast line of vision. “Here’s Riley’s ID, her passport, and even her goddamn credit cards. Now tell me, Bastien — how did you think she got to New York without those?”

Liam snapped his head over to her. “What?!” He snatched the items off the table and stared at the photo on Riley’s passport in his trembling hands, his heart rate taking flight.

His worst fears suddenly became reality, because he knew it would’ve been impossible for her to get out of the country without identification. This confirmed that Ray was right; she never left Cordonia. Of everything he suspected of Bastien, the things he knew and worked to cover up completely blindsided Liam. It hurt him in a way he didn’t know was possible, to be betrayed by someone he put every single ounce of his trust in.

Plus, had it not been for Olivia and Ray, he probably would have gotten away with it, too. The thought alone created a forceful swarm of guilt as Liam realized once again — this was what he ignored for so long. His breaths turned shallow as his mind took this new information and ran with it, automatically assuming the worst and with no signs to point in a different direction, he couldn’t find any strings of hope no matter which way he looked.

The waves came crashing down, sending him into an instant spiral of equal parts devastation and fear. He swayed on his feet, but eventually lowered himself back into his chair, willing the wild rush to slow.

“What the fuck is this?!” Drake exclaimed, smoke nearly barreling out of his ears. “Where is she?!”

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit! She couldn’t leave without this! You’ve been lying to us all along!”

“I did what I had to,” Bastien returned, his voice devoid of all emotion. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“What did you do to her, Bastien?!” Olivia reiterated. “You can’t deny you know something — if she’s in danger, you need to tell us so we can find her!”

“I did nothing to her! All I did was escort her from the premises to the airport — that’s it.” Bastien huffed, immediately regretting the slip-up, which earned him a unanimous gasp.

“What did you just say?” Liam rumbled with clenched fists, his daze of self-hatred shattering on the spot.

Bastien hesitated but realized it was useless to redact. “I said I escorted her from the premises—”

Liam lunged for him without a second thought. He slammed his face into the table and held him there with all his might by the back of his skull. “So you not only knew, but you fucking helped too?!”

“I did what I had—”

“You son of a bitch!” Liam yelled as he lifted Bastien’s head, only to bounce his cheek against the table with increased force. “I trusted you!”

Bastien tried to respond, but Liam swiftly continued. “You have manipulated and made a fool of me for the LAST fucking time! I told you what I’d do, yet you still lied to me? YOUR MONARCH?!”

Again, Bastien attempted to speak, but Liam wasn’t quite finished. “This WHOLE TIME… You’ve known — you fucking helped — but you continuously led me astray.”

“Sir—”

“YOU DO NOT SPEAK OVER ME!” Liam bellowed, slamming Bastien’s head a third time.

A long silence passed as Liam securely held Bastien by the back of his neck, using more force with every passing second. He saw nothing but blood — everything that would’ve gotten covered up ran through his mind; the murders, Riley, and what seemed to be a never-ending list of other possibilities.

Finally, Bastien timidly sliced through the tension. “Sir, I’m willing to tell you what I know and what I’ve done in exchange for safety. If you do not ensure my life, I will be dead within hours.” He pleaded, preparing to meet the table again. “You have no reason to trust me now, but I will tell you what I can…” He emphasized.

Liam met eyes with Olivia and Drake, a silent conversation taking place. In all honesty, nobody cared what happened to him after the fact; all that mattered right now was getting Bastien to talk by any means necessary. Whoever wanted him dead was more than welcome to finish the job, but not until after he confessed.

Liam released him with a shove but never said a word. Instead, he strode back to the chair across from Bastien and slowly retook his seat. When Liam lifted his head, the pure fury staring back at him slightly took Bastien aback. The patient presence he’d grown accustomed to was long gone, replaced by a man driven to the brink of insanity. Those typically bright baby blues were now dark, vicious, and wild — nearly animalistic as his stare tore through Bastien. It sent a shiver of dread down his spine and made him momentarily fearful of his usually calm and composed king. His head throbbed, but he knew that would not be the worst of what he received — regardless of whose hands he suffered from.

Liam intently held his gaze for a long moment, clenching and unclenching his jaw, but finally spoke in an eerily calm voice. “... Tell us.”

Bastien strode through the country jamboree with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he recalled what would happen tonight. A suitor would be removed from the competition, with or without her cooperation. The trap was loaded and ready to go; all they needed was the prey — Riley.

Bastien located Penelope in the crowd and watched her approach Riley. She was deep into a conversation with Maxwell, but Penelope slipped in and played the part surprisingly well. He recognized her shaky hands even from afar, but she discreetly slipped at least half of the pharmaceuticals into Riley’s drink, unbeknownst to her or Maxwell. He didn’t think that part was necessary, but the force beyond insisted it was essential so they would force her to her room before everyone else.

After a time, Bastien observed as Riley hugged Maxwell and headed toward the estate. He quietly followed behind in the shadows as she walked through the deserted halls to her room, cursing the creaky floorboards underneath his feet, but the woman he trailed didn’t notice a thing. Riley skipped, hummed a tune, and even did a little twirl; she had no cares in the world and had no clue that her perception of a fairy tale was about to be shattered.

As her door shut, Bastien took position outside, crossed his arms, and waited for the job to be completed. Everyone else remained at the party outside; it was his assignment to ensure the vicinity stayed clear. He knew who occupied the room neighboring hers, which only fueled the need to get this done and over with as quickly and smoothly as possible.

People spoke behind the door — the voices escalating by the second — but Bastien made it a point to drown them out. The situation could go one of two ways, depending on Riley's cooperation, and it didn't take long for him to realize she chose the hard way. Although he found it difficult to ignore her pleas for help, his allegiance aligned elsewhere.

After a time, a few gentlemen approached but Bastien allowed them access, as he expected them. He didn’t know who they were, just that they would deal with ‘relocating’ Tariq; his task was Riley. One had jet-black hair, while the other donned a baseball cap. They wore a matching dark ensemble, aside from the hat and one having thick, circular lens glasses. A holster of weapons surrounded their belts, making the hair on his arms stiffen. The pair went inside without a word, but Bastien felt their eyes on him as they entered.

The deafening silence hung for what felt like centuries, but eventually, they re-emerged with their cargo in tow.

“Unhand me this instant!” Tariq demanded as the muscles dragged him away.

“Not a chance, fancy boy.” The man with glasses snickered. “Got a special place for you.”

“I did what I was supposed to do!” Tariq pleaded, his tone changing once he realized the seriousness of his situation. “Please — have some compassion!”

“No can do. Boss’s orders were strict — toss you in a hole and throw those God-awful loafers into the ocean.” The dark-haired male snapped his fingers before adding, “I can leave the shoes on if you’d prefer — put some cement in them and send you both on a journey to the bottom of the Mediterranean.” His delight showed brightly, causing Bastien’s pulse rate to skyrocket.

Tariq suddenly planted his feet firmly on the ground. “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?! OR WHO MY FATHER IS?” He bellowed. “You won’t get away with this — I WILL ENSURE THAT YOU—”

Out of nowhere, the male with the ball cap hit him with the butt of his pistol, silencing his tirade. Tariq slumped to the floor with his eyes rolled back, blood gushing from his nose in an instant.

“Thank you, Claudius. I couldn’t stomach another second of his useless ranting.”

“You and I both.”

“Get him loaded up — we’re on a schedule and need to move.” Claudius hefted Tariq on his shoulder with ease and quickly left out the servants’ exit. As he disappeared, the remaining man shifted his attention to Bastien. “So… You’re prepared to handle the fallout?”

“Of course.” He confidently responded.

“Are you sure? Because I don't think you understand how messy this situation could get in the future��� And honestly? If the boss hadn’t enlisted little Miss Penny, this entire operation would’ve crashed and burned before it even took off.” He rolled his eyes. “You thought she would agree to this just for a spot beside the queen?”

“It might surprise you what people will do to get ahead around here.”

“Yes, but they’re willing to execute better with a little — added motivation.” He flashed a wide, sinister smile. “You should know better than anyone…”

Bastien swallowed thickly, his entire body going rigid. “I’m not sure what you’re referencing.”

“Of course not.” He snickered. “I don’t blame you — I wouldn’t want anyone to know you’re the one who mur—”

Bastien held a hand up. “That’s enough.” He spat out.

The male’s smile widened. “As I said, people execute better with added motivation.” He patted Bastien’s shoulder with a little too much force.

“Was there a point to this?” Bastien rumbled through clenched teeth, shaking off the man’s palm.

“I just wanted to make sure it’s one hundred percent clear — you need to ensure anything regarding this stays buried. If too many people ask the right questions before we reach the finish line and the boss has to get involved again… Well —” He grinned, baring his teeth. “That’d just be a shame, wouldn’t it?”

A chill shot down the length of Bastien’s spine. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you threatening me?”

“You may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but you’re not that stupid — you know what will happen.” He responded, amusement written on his cold features. His almond eyes deepened to black, leaving Bastien momentarily speechless.

“I’m certain that won’t be necessary.” Bastien confidently answered after he regained his composure. His companion nodded with an eerie smirk but casually lingered around the door. “Is there something else I can do for you?”

“I was just wondering about Lady Riley… Where you’re planning on sending her since you received the — opportunity to handle her?” He nonchalantly inquired, acting as disinterested as possible. “Such a great honor you have… One I practically begged for.”

“The States, where she came from.” Bastien’s direction was to ship her back to New York as discreetly as possible. Even though the plan took a drastic turn, that was the one constant that couldn't change because otherwise, they would out themselves for taking the reins and disobeying a direct order. She would land on her feet, start a new life, and forget all about Cordonia. Liam would surely want to search for her, but all Bastien had to do was stall until the coronation, when their cover for removing Riley would come to light.

“I see, I see… Well, hopefully, that works out for her.” He smiled, the sight raising goosebumps on Bastien’s arms.

Before Bastien could respond, the door creaked open, and a hooded presence strode out. He paid Bastien no mind, instead focusing on the dark-haired male. “Let us vacate. The party is nearly over, and we have tremendous amounts of work ahead of us if we want to pull this off.”

“What about the court? We can’t go back to —”

“Do not fret, Anton… We have a plan… Trust the process; this is only the beginning. Everything will work out as it should in due time, but we must move — now.”

The pair quickly walked away, but not before Bastien heard Anton loudly whisper, “About that — pit-stop…” to his companion.

Bastien momentarily pondered that statement, but shook off the queasiness inside his stomach, concluding they must be referring to Tariq. As he stared at Riley’s door, a brief flicker of guilt traveled through him. Riley did nothing wrong, and he knew that, but this is the task he regretfully accepted. It was not a personal vendetta, by any means, but this clueless woman aimlessly landed herself in the middle of the nobility; she didn’t understand the untold, dark side of the court and its inhabitants, but would learn on this day.

Bastien cautiously opened the door and entered to find Riley on the edge of her bed, cradling her side. She snapped her head over to him as she heard his footsteps, and her eyes filled to the brim with tears when she met his gaze. He once again fought a wave of remorse at seeing her hopeful expression, knowing he was not the knight in shining armor she assumed he was.

“Bastien, you—you have to help me… Please…” Riley croaked. Her words came out slightly slurred, although it surprised him that the earlier sedatives hadn’t taken a harder effect.

“I’m going to, Lady Riley. First, I need to ensure you’re not carrying anything on you.”

Bastien assisted Riley to a standing position, which she slowly did without question. He didn’t know exactly what transpired, but she had a gash on her side, blood soaking through the thin hoodie she wore. With her permission, he checked the wounds, none of which were bad enough to seek immediate medical attention. Her face was littered with cuts, surely bruises to follow with time, as one of her cheeks was already tinted with a light purple. He started at her shoulders and patted down to her abdomen, but stopped when he felt something in her pocket and pulled out her phone. He nonchalantly slipped the device into his jacket, but despite his best efforts, Riley watched him do it.

“That is my property! You can’t take that!” She protested.

“I’m afraid I can… You are to leave completely empty-handed. Now, we have to get going — you have a flight to catch.” Bastien placed a hand on Riley’s arm to lead her away.

Riley firmly planted her feet in place, shaking away his grip. “Don’t do this, Bastien!”

“You have no choice in this matter and we’re on a time limit,” Bastien replied as he checked his watch.

“What about all my stuff?”

“As I said, empty-handed.” He didn’t understand that part either, but concluded it was easier to shove her on a plane with no items to accompany her.

“On whose authority?!” Riley exclaimed. When he didn’t answer, she reiterated, “Who told you to do this to me, Bastien?!”

“That is confidential information.”

Riley snorted, her frustration written all over her face. “Bullshit! At least be man enough to tell me!”

“Fine. You want to know who did it?” He held her glare, letting the tension linger, but finally answered, “It was Liam.”

Riley stepped away as if she took a blow to the gut, but her devastation quickly morphed into the polar opposite.

Riley laughed; hard enough that tears spilled down her cheeks. “You expect me to believe that? Liam? Of all people?” She shook her head, slightly bouncing from her chuckles. “You think I’m that naïve and stupid?”

“Believe what you will, that matters not to me but my instructions were simple, so we must get moving.” He stated, very matter-of-factly.

“Bastien,” Riley pleaded, any signs of amusement suddenly disappearing. “Don’t do this. I’ll just — I don’t know!” She cried, anxiety prominent in her features. “I won’t say anything to anyone — I swear on my grandmother’s life! Or–or we can tell Liam! Whatever got you wrapped up in this, he will understand.” She reasoned. “Please — you don’t have to conform. We can find a way out of this together.”

Bastien considered it for a second, but ultimately gave Riley a sad smile and nudged her toward the door. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, but he remained firm. He quickly dropped her phone and the pre-written note he received inside her bedside table and went to the threshold, stepping over shards of glass from a broken planter and a bloodied garment.

Leaving her phone there meant it would be an immediate dead end for Liam and her sponsors. He would want to call her — possibly track her — but this ensured that door was closed before it could even be opened. It was a distraction tactic to keep the prince occupied until his reason for her departure would present itself to him, where hopefully, he would drop the matter for good.

Bastien held her stare for a moment before he cleared his throat, emphasizing the need to move. Riley hung her head and eventually slowly walked out the door, quietly sobbing as she did.

Bastien led her down the long hallway toward the servants’ exit, as their SUV waited close by. Riley was incredibly unsteady on her feet, whether it was from the earlier medication or her injuries, he wasn’t sure, but he held his hand out to steady her wobbly steps on multiple occasions. He glanced back and locked eyes with the maid he summoned to clean the area, and even with his dark sunglasses, he still spotted her apprehension. The interaction was brief as he and Riley reached the end of the hallway, but something in his gut said he would have to deal with that later.

Assisting Riley down the stairs turned out to be tricky, as she was in an incredible amount of pain. By the end, he hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her the rest of the way down. She didn’t yell or scream, not that it would have mattered if she tried; the party still ��raged’ in the opposite direction, leaving the vicinity barren of wandering ears. If she got combative he had a plan for that as well, but was glad she opted to cooperate, instead of throwing a tantrum and meeting a fate similar to Tariq.

He sat her on her feet when they emerged outside and escorted her to the vehicle, quickly securing her inside. He used no restraints, but she didn’t resist one bit; almost as if she’d accepted her fate, or her body just didn’t have the strength to fight back. There were no remnants of Tariq or anyone else, but Bastien moved with fire under his feet as if someone lurked right around the corner.

Within the blink of an eye, they were at the airport, where Bastien unloaded her from the back of the car. The entire ride he heard Riley’s sniffles from the backseat, but he drove faster — to unload this package and hopefully, this would be a straightforward operation. Once she was out of the vehicle his job should be done, unless too many questions arose.

Bastien parked toward the back of the abandoned parking lot so the only thing on security footage would be Riley entering the airport. With his connections, he knew exactly where the cameras were and discreetly slipped into a blind spot. Riley could hardly stand as he pulled her from the vehicle, but that was not his concern.

He did his part — all she had to do was walk inside and leave Cordonia forever.

He shoved a small envelope into her hands and said, “Here is your ID, passport, credit cards, and a ticket to New York. It’s been a pleasure, Lady Riley.” And with that, Bastien turned on his heel and returned to his vehicle, speeding away before he could second guess his decision.

He glanced back in the rearview mirror and saw the silhouette of a woman standing there disoriented, wounded, alone, terrified, and defenseless, but quickly averted his gaze, centering on the road. He nearly pushed his foot through the floorboard to get away faster, but bile rose into the back of his throat as a chilling realization sat in; he didn’t know how, but this was far from over, and the chances of him making it to see his next birthday just substantially dwindled.

“I assumed she boarded the plane, but I later received her identification and credit cards in a sealed envelope from an unidentifiable source. I tried to help her… I really did…” Bastien finished with his head bowed.

“No, you sure as shit did not!” Drake bellowed, a mix of fury and shock written on his features. “I can’t believe you!”

Bastien flinched. “I did what I had to do—”

“Where is she, then? Because she never got on that fucking plane, Bastien!” Olivia hollered.

“I don’t know! I told you everything I know about it! I tried to find out, but I can’t!”

“This is fucking unreal.” Drake shook his head and scoffed. “You expect me to believe you really don’t know? You have her ID! Her goddamn passport!”

Bastien forcefully clenched his jaw. “I received them before the tour in a sealed envelope. I don’t know where it came from and I can't trace its origin.”

Drake scowled. “We’re supposed to believe that?” He looked away and rubbed a hand down his face, his frustration steadily rising. “Let’s say I do — you chose to keep that to yourself? You didn’t think that was worth mentioning when we opened an investigation into her goddamned disappearance?!” He over-enunciated, sarcasm dripping off every syllable.

“What was I supposed to do, Drake?!” Bastien responded, but couldn’t fathom meeting his eyes for even a brief second.

“Not be a spineless piece of shit, for one,” Olivia answered. “For two, you could’ve refused to cooperate from the beginning. Or, told the truth, regardless of what would’ve happened to you then… Or, made sure she got on the plane, at least. You drugged her and left her for dead, Bastien! Who knows where she’s at by now?! Do you realize how much time we’ve wasted because of you?!”

“I did not drug her or leave her for dead—”

“But you didn’t fucking stop it either, and that’s just as damning in my eyes,” Drake spoke in a bland, empty voice as he tried to comprehend this betrayal. “I don’t know what happened to you, but you’re not the man I used to look up to, not anymore… I can’t believe you did this and continuously lied to us about it!”

Bastien slouched. “I never lied—”

“Bullshit! You’ve done nothing but lie! You’ve gotta stop and tell us the truth for once!”

“I told you everything I know, everything I’ve done. I killed the maid and had every intention of Lady Penelope taking the fall — I’ve led you astray and tampered with evidence — I admit it.”

“I don’t care about any of that shit right now!” Drake shouted. “We wanna know what you did with Brooks, Bastien.”

Bastien sighed. “Drake, I told you, I don’t know where she’s at! She was supposed to go inside and board the plane!”

“But you didn’t wait and ensure she did, at least?” Olivia asked with an arched brow.

“I didn’t think I needed to! After what I heard coming out of that room, I assumed she would run inside to get away… If anyone knows, it’s probably that Anton character!”

“Anton…” Olivia repeated, her curiosity peaking. “What do you know about him? And the other guy? Claudius?”

“Absolutely nothing. I’d never seen them before and haven’t since. All I know is they were in charge of relocating Tariq.”

“And you don’t know where that is, either?”

“No, I don’t. I didn’t ask questions, and I wasn’t told. I ran their names in the system to see if I could figure anything out, but they’re ghosts — there aren’t even medical records with either name on it.”

Olivia scoffed. “So, why do it, then?”

“I have my reasons…” He finally gathered the courage to take a peek in Drake's direction, but when he spotted the wild blaze of fire in his eyes, swiftly glanced away.

“Yeah… Okay…” Olivia indignantly laughed. “So was this your idea, or were you working under someone else’s watch?” He didn’t reply, but she and Drake noticed his shoulders tense. “That’s all the answer I need. So who is it? Who’s pulling the strings here?”

Bastien shook his head. “That I can’t tell you.”

“You’re already a dead man no matter which way you look at it, so you may as well just tell us. If you do, there is the tiniest chance that you may receive mercy,” Olivia growled as her hand instinctively reached for the dagger hidden in her waistband.

“I’m aware of that, but I cannot tell you.”

“Bas, you need to fucking—”

“Damn it, Drake, I can’t!” Bastien shouted. He knew the pain Drake felt was nothing compared to what he’d feel if he knew the truth, but he refused to open that can of worms.

Liam remained eerily quiet as he listened to Bastien retell the events of that night. To say he was fuming would be the understatement of the millennium. Bastien’s continuous misleading and knowledge of Riley being drugged, assaulted, and potentially still in Cordonia sent Liam overboard. Not to mention, he basically left her for dead in a parking lot. Bastien did all of that; he may not have physically harmed her himself, but he stood guard, let it happen, and actively worked to cover it up, making Liam physically sick to his stomach.

The all-consuming rage he tried to control reached its boiling point. He was no longer asking nicely — he was demanding.

Liam slowly stood from his chair, the loud screech halting the surrounding bickering. He leaned over the table on his knuckles and positioned himself at eye level with his former guard. “You told her that I did it?”

Bastien’s eyes spread eagle. “I just needed to get her out of the door… I assumed that would get her to leave willingly, but she didn’t believe a word I said.”

Liam indignantly laughed, the sound sending waves of uncertainty through everyone in the room. “So it wasn’t enough to physically break her — you had to pile emotional pain on top, too?”

“Sir, she did not believe me,” Bastien reasoned. “She knew you would never do such a thing. It was only a last-ditch attempt on my part to get her out.”

Liam mindlessly nodded, ignoring the new wave of dread filling his veins. He’d convinced himself even through all this madness, when they reached the bottom of this intricate web, there was still a slight chance Riley could love him back, but that hope burst into flames instantaneously. Regardless of whether she believed the lie, he was more determined than ever to find her, ensure her safety, and make sure she knew he played no part in this. He had no intentions of hiding his prolonged negligence of the situation from her, but wasn’t willing to let her hate him over something he had no part of.

Liam took a deep, steadying breath and spoke in a low, timbre rumble. “I’m ordering you to tell me who orchestrated all this, Bastien — you owe me that much.”

Bastien remained silent for a long moment as he held his monarch’s intent gaze. Eventually, he sat back in his chair and broke eye contact while pursing his lips together. “Damn it, tell me!” Liam shouted, his voice echoing against the concrete walls.

Bastien hesitated, as he quickly planned his path from here. The potential to get caught was always there, and he thought extensively about what he would do and who to say in this situation. His secrets fueled a small portion of his decision, but the majority centered around fear. He wouldn’t be safe either way but would take his punishment from the crown. Aside from keeping his skeletons inside the closet, to defy the — others — would essentially put nails in his coffin, just waiting to be hammered in. He’d seen firsthand the carnage they were capable of; a couple of treason charges were nothing in comparison.

But if he pointed them in the right direction, it wouldn't be him outing the culprit.

The tension lingered but right when Olivia opened her mouth to push, Bastien quietly answered, “It was your father…”

The room went silent; not a single breath to be heard. Olivia took in the steadfast determination in Bastien’s features and knew for once — he wasn’t lying. And it made some sense; Bastien was purely manpower, not an active brain contributing, and Constantine had the power to force him into anything. However, she instantly knew the former monarch was not the person behind that door with Riley.

Constantine was in high demand and there was no way he could’ve slipped away from the jamboree that early unnoticed. Olivia recalled that night, and to her knowledge, Constantine retired at the same time as Liam. Plus, if they believed Liam’s out-of-body experience to be reality, Constantine was right beside him while the attack took place.

She believed him but also realized while he told the truth, he didn’t tell all of it. There was more to the story, and she intended to get any and every ounce of information out of him, no matter what it took.

Olivia opened her mouth to address Bastien, but Liam beat her to it. “My father?” He repeated, confusion showcased brightly on his face.

“Yes, sir,” Bastien softly spoke. “I know that may be hard for you to hear, but—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Liam suddenly bellowed as his shock quickly morphed into dangerous fury. “You’re still trying to lie?!”

Bastien’s eyes widened. “I swear to you — he’s the one who told me to send her back to New York.”

Liam shook his head, his face reddening with every sullen breath. “No… You’re just trying to cover your own ass, that’s it!”

Bastien sighed. “I don’t expect you to believe me, but that is the truth. Your father is the one who—”

Liam paced the small area, his racing thoughts spiraling out of control. “My father would not do this, regardless of how strongly he felt about it. This is fucking evil and deranged — he is a lot of things, but he would never do something like this to me.” He seethed. “So I will ask you one final time — who was it?”

Silence commenced once more, but Bastien eventually answered. “I told you who it was. If you choose not to believe me, that’s your prerogative. I did what he ordered me to do.”

Fast as lightning, Liam brought his fist up and connected with Bastien’s jaw. He went around the table and hit him again, and again, until Bastien was on his knees with his head dangling in between his still cuffed hands. Liam didn’t care if he killed him or not at that moment; all that mattered was exacting revenge on behalf of his beloved, even if she wasn’t there to witness it. The monarch checked out, replaced by a vicious beast — a starved one, at that.

Liam saw nothing except Riley’s face, the sound of her cries from his out-of-body experience echoing in his mind. His hand throbbed as he relentlessly took his frustrations out on Bastien, but he barely felt it because of the pure hatred and adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Olivia and Drake watched, exchanging worried glances as Liam continued his assault. Both felt incredible amounts of anger toward Bastien, but they saw the bits of truth. Liam might not want to believe it, but Constantine made the most sense.

However, Olivia wholeheartedly believed Constantine was not the one in that room. He may have ordered Bastien to engage, but deep down she knew he was not the one calling the shots that night. As Liam continued to pummel him, she had half a mind to stop him, but the person taking out his anger on his crumpled guard was not her childhood friend, and even she was hesitant to interfere.

It was Drake who finally intervened, laying a firm hand on his shoulder. “Li…” When Liam shook him off, he tried again with more force. “Liam!”

“Get your fucking hands off of me!” Liam shouted, quickly returning to his mission. Every bone that snapped underneath his fist soothed a portion of his soul, but he wasn’t willing to stop until Bastien felt even a small portion of the pain enveloping his entire being.

The door crept open and Leo went to step inside, Maxwell close behind, but halted when he spotted a bloodied and battered Bastien dangling from the side of the table. Liam continued his attack, completely oblivious to the additional presences in the room. Leo noticed the mixed expressions from Olivia and Drake and quickly pieced a vague conclusion together. Never in his life did he think Bastien could be capable of such atrocities, but clearly they found something to tie him to it.

Leo stepped toward Liam and timidly tapped his shoulder to gather his attention. “Li, we found Penelope. She was headed to the palace with orders for incineration upon arrival, but we stopped it and she should be back soon. I talked with Landon and Emmaline and they’ve agreed to send her wherever you see fit for autopsy. Ray recommended a specialist, but I wanted your input before I started the process.”

Liam finally stopped his assault and stared down at Bastien’s crumpled body with labored breaths. “The amount of which you’re willing to go to bury this is ridiculous! WHO could be that important that you would do all this — risk EVERYTHING for?!” He bellowed, his voice booming against the walls.

Bastien never answered, whether by choice or from his injuries, but a silence took over as Liam really pondered that question for a moment. This wasn’t just some measly scandal anymore; this was an extensive operation concocted to remove the top competitors and ensure he married Madeleine. At first assumption, it would be easy to point a finger at Madeleine herself, but Bastien held no allegiance to her, and the two hardly spoke before the start of the engagement tour. She held no power over him and had no way to get him to bend to her will.

And that was simply too easy — right?

Bastien’s involvement suddenly narrowed down the potential list of suspects, as Liam knew there was a very short number of people he would have no choice but to obey. Despite everything, he didn’t want to believe Bastien willingly did all of this. He expressed feeling some kind of remorse while it was happening, but he still aided and lied about it afterward, making his guilt irrelevant.

He had no reason to trust Bastien, but the more he thought about it, the more his heart accepted the tale.

The betrayal from his former guard was a lot to process, but knowing who could have ultimately constructed the whole thing shredded him into a million tiny pieces. Half of him was ready to unleash a wrath like no other, while the other half wanted to crumple into a ball and cry. His already fragile heart couldn't take the strain; right when he thought this situation couldn't get worse, it did. Someone so close forcefully took something so precious, knowing how much Riley meant to him, and it completely blindsided him.

His back hit the wall and he slid down it, clutching his chest. Leo and Drake quickly moved to catch him, thinking he was having another episode, but Liam shook them off. As everyone took in his dejection, they realized he accepted who their next subject of questioning would be.

“Leo…” Liam swallowed thickly, his breaths rapid and labored. “Tell me — tell me our father wouldn’t do this… He’s not evil, just hard-headed — right?”

Leo winced. “I… I wish I could, Li, but…” He didn’t want to believe it but with Constantine’s infatuation with the throne, he couldn’t put it past him. Their father was never malicious, but he had a control problem regarding the crown; Leo knew firsthand.

But would he go this far?

Liam let out a forceful huff of air and ran his hands down his face, trying and failing to keep his tears at bay. “I — I thought it was bad that Bastien betrayed me, but — him? Why would he do this?”

“I want to answer that, Liam, but I’m not the person to ask… One way or another, you know we have to confront him…”

Liam grimly nodded. “I know… I just — what if he is the one who did all of this? What am I supposed to do then, Leo?”

Leo remained silent for a long moment, gathering his thoughts, but was to no avail, as he genuinely didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know, Liam… I really don’t…”

[belencha77]

CAPITULO 54 - AMOR EN EL AIRE 🔥Ⓜ️

<<Punto de vista de Liam>>

En este punto, sentía que los nervios me estaban consumiendo. Normalmente, tengo un buen autocontrol, pero por primera vez estaba luchando con ello. Con mi mano temblorosa, saqué una caja de terciopelo roja del bolsillo. Me arrodillé frente a Riley, y ella comenzó a llorar de manera descontrolada, colocando sus manos sobre su boca.

|| He esperado toda mi vida por ti. Siempre he querido casarme por amor, no por una alianza o algún tipo de ganancia política. Cuando me convertí en el Príncipe Heredero... || Hice una pausa, tratando de controlar mis emociones. || Sabía que sería difícil casarme por amor. Pensé que tendría que casarme por deber, por la corona y el país. Pero llegaste tú... || Sonreí y abrí la caja, mostrando el hermoso anillo que había traído. Tomé su mano izquierda entre las mías mientras ambos temblábamos. || Y no tuve duda alguna de que podría tenerlo todo contigo. Riley Marie Brown, reina de mi corazón, he anhelado decir estas palabras durante mucho, mucho tiempo... ¿Quieres casarte conmigo? || Riley se quedó sin palabras, sus ojos llenos de lágrimas y emoción. Asintió vigorosamente con la cabeza, incapaz de hablar al principio || ¿Eso es un sí? || Pregunté con un toque de nerviosismo, pero ella se rio y lanzó un gran suspiro.

|| ¡Sí! ¡Un millón de veces sí! || Gritó con júbilo, lanzándose hacia mí y abrazándome con fuerza, su risa y sollozos entrelazados en un torbellino de emociones. || Me casaré contigo... Seré tu esposa. || Yo sonreí y rápidamente deslicé el anillo de diamantes talla princesa de seis quilates en su dedo || Oh, Dios mío, ¡es tan hermoso, Liam! || Exclamó, admirando el anillo con ojos llenos de asombro y amor. Y nuevamente comenzó a llorar al mirar su dedo. Me reí entre dientes mientras la levantaba del suelo, atrayéndola hacia mi pecho y besando la parte superior de su cabeza.

|| Este era el diamante del anillo de compromiso de mi madre. Lo puse en una nueva configuración para ti. ||

|| Me encanta, Liam || susurró. || No puedo esperar para ser tu esposa. ||

|| Será la primera boda real desde que mi padre se casó con mi madre hace tantos años. || La miré fijamente a los ojos, su expresión era completamente ilegible salvo por su sonrisa, más brillante que nunca. Mi corazón se hinchó de emoción y la volví a levantar en mis brazos, haciéndola girar en el aire. || ¡SOY EL HOMBRE MÁS FELIZ DEL MUNDO! || Grité con fuerza, mientras ella reía de emoción.

|| ¿En serio? ¡No lo creo! || bromeó Riley. La acerqué rápidamente para besarla profundamente, pero también de manera tierna y apasionada. Sostenía su cuerpo apretado contra el mío mientras ella envolvía sus brazos alrededor de mi cuello, hundiéndose en mi abrazo. Después de lo que parecía una eternidad feliz, nos detuvimos para respirar. La deslicé hasta el suelo, pero aún envuelta en mis brazos, su frente apoyada contra la mía || Liam, te amo tanto. ||

|| Y yo a ti, Riley, te amo demasiado. ||

|| Pensé que el anillo de tu mamá lo tenía Madeleine. ||

|| Jamás podría habérselo dado, ella recibió otro… El anillo de mi madre estaba destinado solamente para la mujer que amo, y esa eres tú. || Tomé su rostro entre mis manos, mirándola fijamente. || Cuando pienso en todo lo que nos llevó a este momento, no puedo evitar estar asombrado por ti. No hay nadie a quien prefiera tener a mi lado ||

|| Eso es bueno, porque ciertamente no pienso dejarte nunca... Y no puedo esperar a ver qué tipo de vida podemos construir juntos, Liam. Me llena de emoción poder compartir mi vida contigo. ||

|| No tengo ninguna duda de que no solo eres la elección correcta para mí, sino también para ser la Reina de Cordonia. Serás la mejor Reina y duquesa que Cordonia haya tenido. || Al decir esto, ella me miró confundida.

|| ¿Duquesa? ||

|| Así es, mi amor. Uno de los beneficios de ser Reina es que, al llegar a Cordonia, serás nombrada duquesa. Hay algunos ducados no reclamados, y se te legará uno como parte de convertirte en mi reina. Eso es solo uno de los muchos beneficios que vendrán. Creo que los disfrutarás. || Le dije con una inmensa felicidad.

|| ¿Y uno de esos beneficios es casarme contigo? || Me dijo con una amplia risa, haciendo que yo riera igual.

|| Bueno, ese es uno de los principales. || Respondí mientras ella se acercaba más a mí, tomando mi rostro entre sus manos y acariciándolo suavemente. Me dio un tierno beso en los labios.

|| Liam, casarme contigo es el único beneficio que me importa. || Me dijo, y aún no puedo creer la maravillosa mujer que he encontrado. Muchas, como Madeleine, buscan la posición y el renombre. Pero a Riley no le importa nada de eso. La miré asombrado y sorprendido.

|| Pensé que estarías complacida también con la perspectiva de tener tu propia casa y tierras... Pero ciertamente no me quejaré si me prefieres a mí. Los arreglos aún están en progreso, pero no te imaginas lo ansioso que estoy por mostrarte tu nuevo ducado. Tengo el ducado perfecto para ti. || Le dije, pero de repente, la idea de sus sentimientos hacia Drake volvió a mi mente. ¿Qué pasa si Riley no solo lo ama como amigo sino como algo más? ¿Estoy dispuesto a compartir?

|| Liam, ¿qué pasa? || me preguntó, su voz llena de confusión y preocupación.

|| Riley... || Suspiré, sintiendo cómo la inseguridad y el miedo me consumían. || No puedo evitar sentirme aterrado por lo que sientes por Drake. Quiero que seas feliz, eso es lo más importante para mí, pero cuando Drake se entere de que nos vamos a casar, se va a sentir miserable. Existe... bueno, tú sabes que tenemos el acuerdo Cordoniano, en el que yo podría ayudarlos a los dos. Aunque me duele profundamente, estoy dispuesto a dejar que Drake y tú tengan los momentos que necesiten. || Mis palabras salieron con un nudo en la garganta. Riley me miró, sus ojos llenos de admiración y sorpresa, dio un paso atrás, observándome con atención.

|| Liam, ¿por qué me estás sugiriendo esto? || Dijo, frunciendo el ceño mientras yo me pasaba la mano por el cabello, tratando de encontrar el valor para continuar.

|| Riley, tu felicidad es lo más importante para mí. Como he dicho muchas veces, Drake es como mi hermano. Siempre me ha apoyado y respaldado. Sé que dije que no me gustaría compartirte, pero quizás hacerlo sea una manera de apoyar a Drake de la misma forma en que él lo ha sido conmigo. Pero... || Mi voz se quebró un poco. || No puedo soportar la idea de que te alejes de mí, incluso por un momento. Aun así, estoy dispuesto a hacerlo porque quiero darte todo lo que necesitas, incluso si eso significa compartirte. || Bajé la mirada rápidamente, sin poder creer lo que acababa de proponer.

|| Liam, mírame... || dijo Riley con lágrimas en los ojos, tomando mis manos con fuerza. Lentamente levanté el rostro para encontrarme con sus ojos.

|| Cuando te dije que sí a tu propuesta, no fue solo de labios para afuera. Quiero ser tu esposa, tu Reina, tu pareja, tu amante. Quiero ser tuya por completo. || Su mirada se suavizó y acarició mi mejilla. || Lamento tanto haberte herido así… No era mi intención. Me ilusioné, me enamoré y me confundí con Drake y… || Cerró los ojos con fuerza, como tomando ánimo. || Y sí, estuve con él. Pero fue un error. Me dejé llevar por mis sentimientos y emociones. Pero como te dije, el amor que siento por él no es el mismo que siento por ti. Ahora te pertenezco solo a ti, Liam. No quiero a otro, soy tuya completa y totalmente a partir de este momento. ||

|| ¿Lo dices en serio? || La miré con nostalgia mientras mi voz temblaba de emoción.

|| Lo digo en serio, mi amor… Soy solo tuya. || Me sonrió y se inclinó, trazando sus labios sobre mi cuello, mandíbula y hasta llegar a mi boca. Nuestro beso fue suave al principio, pero luego se volvió más firme. Riley de repente empujó su cuerpo contra el mío mientras yo pasaba mis brazos alrededor de su cintura. Mis labios y lengua se mezclaron con los suyos.

|| Eres mía, || susurré, || ¡toda y solamente mía por siempre! ||

|| Así es, hasta que la muerte nos separe, mi Liam… mi Rey, || me dijo suavemente. Apoyé mi frente contra la suya mientras la miraba con ternura.

|| Mi Riley… mi Reina, || suspiré, recordando que tenía una última parada en mente. Aclaré mi garganta. || Cierto, tengo un último plan para la aventura de esta noche... claro, si eso es lo que mi futura Reina desea. ||

|| Usted manda… mi Rey. || Me dijo y tomé su mano y comenzamos a caminar de regreso al helicóptero.

|| Tendremos un hermoso paseo para ver Nueva York en su esplendor desde los cielos y luego una cena privada en la suite presidencial del hotel. ¿Qué dices? Deseo seguir disfrutando de esta hermosa velada juntos antes de anunciar al mundo nuestras noticias. ||

|| No hay nada más que me encantaría hacer. ||

Al subir al helicóptero, las luces de la ciudad empezaron a brillar como estrellas en un cielo despejado. El piloto despegó suavemente, y pronto estábamos volando sobre el imponente horizonte de Manhattan. La vista era impresionante: rascacielos iluminados, puentes resplandecientes y el río Hudson reflejando el brillo de la ciudad.

|| ¿Cuál es tu parte favorita en Nueva York? || De repente pregunté.

|| Mmmm tendría que decir que conocerte... || Dijo y me reí mientras que ella me miraba levantando una ceja || Es en serio, no te rías… cuando vivía aquí, pensé que no podía haber nada más emocionante que la vida en la gran ciudad, pero luego conocí a un guapo extraño en un bar y la palabra aventura adquirió un significado completamente nuevo… Liam, eres el regalo más grande que esta ciudad me dio ||

|| Mi amor, tú eres el mayor regalo que me ha dado la vida... || Le dije y Riley me apretó la mano, sus ojos brillando con emoción y amor || Quería que esta noche fuera inolvidable, una celebración de nuestro amor en el corazón de una de las ciudades más emblemáticas del mundo ||

|| Es perfecto, Liam. Todo esto es perfecto.  Esta ciudad siempre tendrá un lugar especial en nuestros corazones ¿Verdad? ||

|| Así es… Siempre tendrá un lugar || Le dije con certeza.

Al aterrizar en el helipuerto, una limusina nos esperaba para llevarnos de regreso al hotel. Llegamos al The Langham, donde la suite presidencial estaba preparada para una cena privada. La habitación estaba decorada con velas y flores, creando un ambiente íntimo y romántico.

|| Después de ti mi Reina, todo esto es para ti, || le dije, tomando su mano mientras nos sentábamos. || Porque quiero que cada momento contigo sea tan especial como tú lo eres para mí. ||

Riley me miró, sus ojos llenos de amor y gratitud.

|| No puedo esperar a pasar el resto de mi vida contigo, Liam. Eres mi todo. ||

**

<<Punto de vista de Riley>>

Disfrutamos de una cena exquisita en la que el tiempo pareció detenerse para nosotros. Fue una noche en la que nos sentimos completamente libres, como si no hubiera nada que nos atara. Estábamos solo él y yo, sin preocupaciones, sin miedos. Después de la comida, nos entregamos a una balada romántica que parecía haber sido escrita para nosotros. Nuestros cuerpos se movían al ritmo de la música, pero lo que realmente se podía sentir era el latido sincronizado de nuestros corazones, palpitando de alegría y amor.

Liam me miró con una profundidad que me conmovió. Su sonrisa era una promesa de amor eterno, y lentamente me incliné hacia él, nuestros labios encontrándose en un beso que se volvía cada vez más ardiente. Sus brazos me envolvieron con fuerza, como si quisiera fundirse conmigo en un solo ser. Cada toque, cada caricia, estaba cargado de una pasión que habíamos estado esperando tanto tiempo.

Nos separamos un poco, nuestras frentes aún unidas, y su voz vibraba con una felicidad incontrolable.

|| Estoy tan feliz de poder besarte con libertad, sin miedos. Si quiero hacerlo en público, ahora lo haré sin restricciones, || me dijo con una mirada que era a la vez ardiente y tierna.

|| Yo también soy feliz, pero… ¿Qué te parece si hacemos esto? || Le susurré mientras lo empujaba suavemente hacia la cama. Lo presioné contra ella, mi cuerpo sobre el suyo, y me incliné para capturar sus labios en un beso ferviente. Era un momento cargado de electricidad, nuestros labios se encontraban en una danza apasionada. Liam se apartó un poco, su mirada llena de deseo y devoción.

|| Riley, nunca te he deseado más que en este momento. || me dijo con voz profunda y cargada de emoción, mientras tomaba mi rostro entre sus manos. Nuestros ojos se encontraron, intensos y llenos de un deseo palpable. Me acerqué lentamente, mis labios buscando los suyos, y al contacto, sentí una oleada de emoción recorrer mi cuerpo. Sus labios eran cálidos y suaves, y su lengua trazó un camino en mi labio inferior que envió escalofríos por toda mi columna. Coloqué una mano sobre su pecho para encontrar estabilidad mientras el deseo se apoderaba de mí.

En un movimiento rápido y decidido, me encontré debajo de él.

|| Te deseo Liam, con todo mi ser || susurré, mi voz temblando de emoción y anhelo.

|| Tus deseos son órdenes para mi || respondió, su voz cargada de una promesa ardiente. Usó una mano para apoyarse contra la cama, mientras la otra trazaba líneas de fuego desde mi mandíbula hasta mi cuello y pecho. Su beso era voraz y urgente, como si intentara apoderarse de cada parte de mí. Comencé a desabotonar su camisa, mis dedos temblando ligeramente mientras me incliné para besar su oído y cuello. Un gemido se escapó de sus labios, resonando en mi oído y avivando aún más el deseo entre nosotros.

Poco a poco, nos fuimos despojando de nuestras ropas, cada prenda caída era un paso más hacia la intimidad completa. Nos quedamos desnudos, el calor de nuestros cuerpos fusionándose en un abrazo que nos envolvía por completo.

Coloqué mis manos en sus caderas, guiándolo mientras se hundía en mí. Cada movimiento suyo estaba lleno de una intensidad eléctrica que me recorría, desde la punta de mis pies hasta la cabeza. Sentí un hormigueo incontrolable que me envolvía, y los gemidos de placer se escapaban de mis labios, intensificados por los suyos. Mi cuerpo se arqueaba, moviéndose en perfecta sincronía con el de Liam, y en ese momento, nos fusionamos en una unidad completa.

Tras un tiempo, nos hallamos envueltos en una intimidad serena. Yacía entrelazada en los brazos de Liam, sintiendo una paz profunda que llenaba cada rincón de mi ser. La tranquilidad de la noche envolvía la habitación, y el calor de nuestros cuerpos juntos era el único consuelo que necesitábamos. Cada respiración se volvía un susurro compartido, cada latido un eco de nuestra conexión.

|| Me alegro de que estés conmigo esta noche, || respondí con una sonrisa sincera, acariciando su pecho.

Nos miramos a los ojos, compartiendo un tierno beso que reflejaba nuestra profunda satisfacción. Lentamente, el sueño comenzó a arrullarnos. Liam me atrajo aún más hacia él, envolviéndome en su abrazo con un afecto protectora. Sus brazos se ajustaron alrededor de mí como un refugio, y yo me acurruqué contra su pecho, sintiendo el ritmo calmado de su respiración.

Con el suave y constante latido de su corazón como mi guía, nos dejamos llevar por la serenidad de la noche. La calidez de su cuerpo era mi alivio, y el silencio compartido era un manto de calma que nos envolvía. En esta noche de unión y tranquilidad, nos sumimos en un sueño profundo y reparador, sabiendo que, finalmente, éramos solo nosotros.

**

A la mañana siguiente, me desperté con la suave sensación de la mano de Liam envolviendo la mía. Al abrir los ojos, vi su mirada llena de amor mientras contemplaba el anillo en mi dedo. Sus ojos se encontraron con los míos, rebosantes de ternura.

|| Buenos días, mi amor. || Su voz era un susurro lleno de ternura.

|| Buenos días, guapo, || respondí con una sonrisa radiante, mi corazón rebosante de felicidad mientras admiraba el anillo. No podía creer que, tras todo lo que habíamos pasado, estábamos finalmente comprometidos.

|| ¿Estás feliz? || Liam me preguntó, su sonrisa mostrando un destello de esperanza y amor.

|| Más de lo que podrías imaginar, || le contesté, inclinándome para besarlo con suavidad. Sentí la profundidad de mis sentimientos en cada toque de nuestros labios.

|| ¿Lista para regresar a casa? Tenemos que hacer un gran comunicado de prensa. ||

|| Muy lista… ¿Podemos avisarles a nuestros amigos después? || pregunté, sintiendo que este momento era solo nuestro.

|| En realidad, no quiero apresurarme. Quiero disfrutar de este instante contigo ahora mismo. Quiero desayunar contigo, ducharme contigo… Luego, cuando estemos en el jet y estemos por llegar, podemos reunirnos con ellos y compartir nuestra noticia. ¿Te parece? || Liam me besó tiernamente en la frente, su mirada llena de amor y promesas.

|| Claro que sí, es perfecto. || Asentí con una sonrisa emocionada, abrazándolo con fuerza. Sentí que cada segundo a su lado era un regalo, un sueño hecho realidad.

Algunas horas después, estábamos de regreso a Cordonia en el jet real. Maxwell y Hana me bombardearon con preguntas sobre la noche anterior, pero les dije que tendría que esperar hasta que llegáramos a casa para compartir detalles.

En medio del vuelo, el mensaje de Drake volvió a mi mente con fuerza. ¡Oh, no! Con toda la emoción de la noche, había olvidado por completo que había escrito para vernos. Decidí acercarme a él.

|| Hey, Drake, || le dije mientras me sentaba a su lado.

|| ¡Oh! Hola, Brown… ¿Todo bien? || me preguntó, con curiosidad en su voz.

|| Sí, todo bien. Quería disculparme por no contestar tu mensaje de ayer. La verdad es que tuve un montón de cosas que hacer y, sinceramente, me olvidé de hacerlo || Le dije, sintiendo el peso de mi descuido.

|| No te preocupes, lo entiendo… || respondió, tratando de ocultar su decepción. || Al ver que no tuve respuesta, supuse que no irías. ||

|| Lo siento tanto. ¿Era algo urgente? ¿Te gustaría hablarlo ahora? || le pregunté, ansiosa por resolverlo.

|| Mmmm… || me miró con una mezcla de curiosidad y duda, como si estuviera tratando de encontrar las palabras correctas. || Se podría decir que no es tan urgente… Pero podríamos hablarlo cuando lleguemos a Cordonia, si te parece. ||

|| Perfecto, suena bien. Hablamos allá entonces. || Le sonreí y le apreté la mano antes de regresar a mi asiento. Hana estaba acurrucada cerca de Maxwell y Liam estaba en la sala de conferencias. Aproveché para descansar en una de las camas, dejando que el cansancio de la noche anterior se desvaneciera mientras me preparaba para lo que nos esperaba en Cordonia.

**

Un tierno beso en la frente me despertó suavemente, sacándome de un sueño profundo. Al abrir los ojos, me envolvió una sensación de tranquilidad, aunque aún sentía el ligero cansancio de tantas horas de sueño. Confundida, me pregunté por qué Liam me despertaba con un gesto tan dulce.

|| Amor… Tuvimos un pequeño desvío, pero estaremos en casa muy pronto || me dijo Liam con suavidad. A medida que sus palabras penetraban en mi mente, me di cuenta de que había estado dormida sin darme cuenta, inmersa en un sueño reparador.

|| ¿Desvío? || pregunté, algo confundida. || ¿Por qué un desvío? ||

|| No te preocupes, no es nada grave. Solo quería avisarte que te espero en la sala de conferencias. He solicitado a todos que se reúnan allí antes de llegar para tener un pequeño desayuno juntos. ||

Asentí con la cabeza, agradecida por su preocupación. Liam me dio un dulce beso en la frente antes de dejarme. Me levanté para ir al baño, deseando refrescarme para el desayuno que nos esperaba. Miré mi reloj: eran alrededor de las seis y media de la mañana en Cordonia. Con emoción y anticipación, me dirigí a la sala de conferencias, donde todos ya estaban reunidos, charlando animadamente y con miradas expectantes. Les sonreí con entusiasmo al entrar.

|| Chicos, ¡realmente me alegra tanto verlos a todos aquí! Nueva York fue una montaña rusa de emociones, pero anhelo dejar atrás los hoteles y regresar a mi hogar en Cordonia. Y, por supuesto, estoy deseando ver a mi Chance. Lo he extrañado mucho… || Miré a Maxwell con cierta preocupación. || Por cierto, Max, ¿cómo está Chance? ¿A quién se lo encargaste? || Maxwell me miró con una expresión de tristeza y algo de inquietud, lo que hizo que mi corazón diera un vuelco. || ¿Maxwell? || pregunté, sintiendo una creciente preocupación.

|| Este, mi Flor… ¿Recuerdas que te comenté que tenía malas noticias que decirte? Bueno, resulta que cuando viajé a buscar a Tariq, encargué a Chance con el personal y se lo llevaron a Cordonia. Pero a él no le agradó en absoluto y… el pequeño se escapó. Aún lo siguen buscando || Maxwell me miró con tristeza, y mi angustia se reflejó en el silencio que siguió a sus palabras.

|| ¿¡QUÉ!? || exclamé, horrorizada y llena de angustia. || ¿Maxwell, por qué no me lo dijiste antes? ||

Maxwell se acercó y me abrazó por el costado, arrodillándose cerca de mi asiento.

|| No quería alarmarte más de lo necesario… Solo iba a preocuparte aún más, como lo estoy haciendo ahora. Están haciendo todo lo posible por encontrarlo, te lo prometo, mi Flor || Sus palabras me conmovieron, pero el dolor por la pérdida de Chance seguía pesando en mi pecho || Por favor no te enojes conmigo ||

Me sentí triste, pero comprendí que no tenía sentido enojarme. A pesar de todo, había superado peores situaciones.

|| Está bien, Max, tranquilo. Solo espero que aparezca pronto. Debe estar muy asustado. || dije, tratando de mantener la calma.

|| Lo sé, pero es bueno estar en casa de nuevo. Él volverá a nosotros, ya verás || añadió Max, con un atisbo de esperanza en su voz. Mi mirada bajó, reflexionando sobre cómo había dejado pasar tanto tiempo. Quizás fue mi culpa que se perdiera. De repente, sentí una mano cálida tomando la mía.

|| Tranquila, amor. También me aseguré de que lo buscaran por todos lados || me dijo Liam con ternura. En ese momento, el grupo guardó silencio. Miré a Liam con una sonrisa agradecida. De reojo, noté el leve cambio en la expresión de Drake, que reveló incomodidad y celos, aunque trató de ocultarlo. Se aclaró la garganta para romper el momento tenso.

|| Este... Liam, ¿dijiste que había algún problema de seguridad con el último tramo de nuestro vuelo? || Pregunto y Liam, con una mirada protectora hacia mí, asintió levemente, pero su mano aún mantenía un agarre cálido sobre la mía.

|| Hubo un pequeño desvío, pero no es nada de qué preocuparse. Cuando la guardia real tiene inquietudes, es mejor escucharlas. Prometo que pronto estaremos en Cordonia || dijo Liam con una sonrisa entusiasta mientras comenzábamos a disfrutar del desayuno. La atmósfera estaba cargada de alegría, y mientras conversábamos y comíamos, Liam se levantó lentamente. Sus ojos brillaban con emoción y nerviosismo mientras me miraba y lanzaba miradas furtivas a nuestros amigos, buscando el momento adecuado para revelar nuestra noticia. || ¿Lista? || me susurró con una sonrisa radiante.

|| ¡Sí, lista! || Le respondí, con el corazón latiendo con fuerza de anticipación. Liam sonrió y aclaró su garganta, un gesto que indicaba que estaba a punto de hacer anunciar las noticias.

|| Amigos, por favor, presten atención un momento || dijo Liam, capturando la atención de todos en la sala. || Antes de que lleguemos a Cordonia, Riley y yo tenemos una noticia que queremos compartir con ustedes ||

|| ¿Qué será? || preguntó Drake, con una mezcla de curiosidad y ligera incomodidad.

|| Como todos saben, mi compromiso anterior fue cancelado || anunció Liam, dirigiendo una mirada seria a Drake, quien se sorprendió. Luego, su expresión se transformó en una sonrisa radiante. || Anoche le pedí a Riley que se casara conmigo, y para mi alegría, aceptó. ¡Estamos comprometidos! || Liam mostró el anillo en mi dedo, y nuestros ojos se encontraron llenos de amor. La sala estalló en aplausos, pero noté la incomodidad en la expresión de Drake, quien dejó su comida y mostró una mezcla de incertidumbre y celos. Liam, captando la tensión, me rodeó con su brazo en un gesto protector, marcando claramente que este compromiso era solo nuestro. || Riley y yo estamos emocionados por este nuevo capítulo || dijo Liam con determinación. || Queríamos compartirlo con ustedes porque son muy importantes para nosotros. ||

|| ¡Riley, esto es maravilloso! || exclamó Hana, levantándose de su asiento para abrazarme con entusiasmo. Su alegría era contagiosa, y me envolvió en un cálido abrazo que me hizo sonreír de oreja a oreja.

|| No puedo creerlo, aunque sospechaba algo… ¡Pero necesito saberlo todo! ¿Dónde estaban? ¿Qué dijo Liam? ¿Qué dijiste tú? || preguntó Maxwell, lleno de emoción, mientras tomaba mi mano para admirar el anillo con una sonrisa radiante.

|| Las felicitaciones vienen primero; las preguntas pueden esperar hasta más tarde || intervino Drake, con un tono que trataba de sonar natural mientras evaluaba sus palabras. || Estoy… feliz por ustedes. Felicitaciones. ||

|| Gracias, amigo || respondió Liam, dándole una palmada en la espalda. Aunque Drake le devolvió una sonrisa levemente forzada, sus ojos mostraban un destello de dolor que intentaba esconder. Luego, se volvió hacia mí con una mirada que no podía disimular completamente su desilusión.

|| Gracias || dije con sinceridad, dirigiéndome a todo el grupo. Noté que Drake evitaba mirarme directamente; sabía que la noticia le había afectado más de lo que había anticipado.

|| Muy bien, estoy seguro de que todos tienen preguntas... || comenzó Liam, pero fue interrumpido de inmediato por Maxwell, que no podía contener su entusiasmo.

|| ¡No tienes idea! || exclamó Maxwell, casi saltando de su asiento. || Dime, ¿dónde fue la propuesta? ¿Qué fue lo que... ||

Justo en ese momento, el piloto anunció que íbamos a comenzar el descenso, y todos debían regresar a sus asientos. La emoción de Maxwell se desvaneció momentáneamente, pero su ansiedad por conocer los detalles de la propuesta era palpable.

|| Qué pena, pero parece que tendremos que posponer las preguntas para después... || dijo Liam, envolviéndome en un cálido abrazo. || Hemos llegado a nuestro hogar. ||

La calidez y amor en su voz eran evidentes. Finalmente, estábamos de vuelta en nuestra amada Cordonia. La sensación de estar en casa, con Liam a mi lado, llenaba el aire mientras el jet descendía suavemente.

If anyone else wants to be tagged, just let me know. I hope you enjoy this wonderful love adventure.

@tessa-liam, @kingliam2019, @choicesficwriterscreations, @delmissesryanandcassi, @OneNoeOne, @scentedeclipseghosteggs,  @s0m3thingkmp

[solarishashernoseinabook]

Notebooks finished in the course of writing fic: 3/???

@rangerangel got me this notebook specifically to write TRR2 in, and it's finally done! Now on to the next notebook he got me for this fic <3

(side note: tumblr is not being kind to the quality of this pic, so hopefully if you select it it looks nicer. it's a very gorgeous notebook in person)

[residentrioters]

He said, "Oh Artemis, contrary, how does your garden grow? Come with me and you'll be the seventh maid in a row." My answer was laughter, soft as I lowered my head. "You're too late, I'm afraid this flower's already dead."

[bebepac]

Traditions

This is a special holiday edition of School Dayz. To catch up on the series in general please click School Dayz

I am participating in @choicesdecember2023 for Christmas

I am also participating in @choicesprompts holiday rewrite challenge in which I used the candy cane gram scene from Mean Girls.

I am also participating in @choicesflashfics christmas prompt # 59: "Ice-skating? Do you seriously trust me with knives on my feet?" will appear in bold. I also used a previous prompt as well Are you seeing this too or am I having a stroke?

Series: School Dayz

The Book: TRR (no royals)

The Pairings: Liam x Riley

Word Count: 1464

Warnings and Ratings: None. This is for anyone who has eyes. A total fluff piece.

Original post: 12/31/23 at 7:15PM EST.

Science class was different for me now that I no longer sat next to Liam, and shared a table with my sister, since Mrs. Barbour decided to make the class sit in alphabetical order, which I think the only reason for the change was to make taking roll easier. I glanced across the room to Liam whose partner was now Rashad.

My adorkable boyfriend who caught me watching him, smiled and held up his hot cocoa cup to toast me from across the room. Liam was the sweetest boyfriend and stopped by the local coffee shop Brew Bros and always got hot chocolate every morning the way that I liked it.

So I smiled while holding up my cup.

“Oh my God, can you two be any more nerdy?” Taylor asked.

“He’s nice, and you reap the benefits of it too. My boyfriend brings us both hot chocolate, or in your case a coffee drink you like every day without us asking.”

Taylor cocked her head to the side and air toasted Liam, taking a sip from her drink when the door opened.

“Ho , Ho, Ho!!!!! Candy Cane Grams, sponsored by the National Honor Society.”

“Make it quick, Santa.” There was a hint of sarcasm in Mrs. Barbour’s voice as she went to sit at her desk for a moment.

“And his lovely assistant Max Noel!”

“Wait… a sec… Are you seeing this too or am I having a stroke?”

Taylor doubled over in laughter “It is!!!! It’s Drake Walker-Claus.”

Taylor’s laugh seemed to antagonize Drake for a second, but good thing he had his assistant Maxwell. His brooding mood was offset by Max Noel making the class laugh with his dance versions of Christmas music as he followed around the room behind him.

“Hana Lee one for you.”

“Chris Powell four for you, you go Chris Powell!”

“Do we have a Riley Brooks here?”

“That’s her Max Noel. She’s Riley Brooks and looks nothing like the girl sitting next to her. Those two can’t possibly be related.”

“Riley Brooks here you go, one for you.”

“Thank you Santa.”

“Um….”

“And nothing at all for Taylor Brooks, not even coal or black licorice, bye.”

Drake and Max ran out of the room.

Taylor looked at me with curious eyes at the candy cane gram in my hand.

“Who’s that from?”

It wasn’t any of her business. I opened the envelope and read silently to myself.

Liam’s sweet words made me smile, and I didn’t have to answer her, and I looked at him from across the room.

“Oh my god. You guys are too much.”

Taylor looked upset, even though she shrugged it off. Later I found out why at her locker.

“I told you to get me a candy cane gram Nico!!!!”

“Well you telling me to do it, takes the surprise out of it. Me not doing it, guess what you were surprised weren’t you?”

My sister who was always loud looked at him and said nothing.

Before I knew it the words flew out of my mouth.

“Wow, you’re a really bad boyfriend Nico, my sister deserves better than you.”

I slammed my locker walking away from the two of them. I found out later that day, my sister broke up with him, in front of everyone in true dramatic Taylor fashion. I was proud of her.

Christmas Eve

Everyone had come over and was enjoying mom’s Christmas cookies and snacks. My dad brought in a big box sitting it down on the floor.

“I want to thank everyone for coming over tonight to spend time with our family. Our children picked people they care about to spend this time together with you. Ren and I are happy to have you in our home. We both grew up in the foster care system, and learned early in life, sometimes the people that care about you most, are not your blood relatives. So we try to celebrate that.”

“And when we had the opportunity to open our home up to two adorable identical twin girls, we couldn’t say no.” My mother chimed in.

“It’s the best decision they ever made. I went to sleep one night wishing I had a little sister. The next morning I woke up with two.” Jaiden spoke up.

“And we know what it’s like to be alone on Christmas, or missing someone special on Christmas that you were once close to. So we wanted to do something special. Liam would you mind sharing the Christmas Eve tradition you had that you told me about?”

“Christmas was my Mom’s favorite holiday. Every Christmas Eve that I can remember she’d dress us up in these ugly Christmas sweaters

and we would go ice skating on Lake Pine. She loved to ice skate. Then she’d make us take these dorky pictures in our Christmas sweaters that matched. I miss her a lot.”

“I miss her too. I’m not adopted, but Liam’s Mom always made me feel like I was her son too. So I really get what you’re saying about family not always being blood related. She was my mom too.”

Liam hugged his brother.

My dad opened the box.

“With a little help from Riley I found some what I would think are hideously awesome ugly Christmas sweaters, and am secretly happy for your love of Star Trek too. I’m sorry Liam, you can’t be the Captain, this is mine. But this one is yours.”

“Well if I can’t be Captain, being the science officer is the next best and most logical choice.” Liam took his blue sweater graciously.

“That’s what I said! Dad please say you got me a blue sweater too.”

“I did.”

After all the sweaters were handed out, there was still one left in the box.

“Guess you guys bought this before I broke up with Nico. No big deal.”

Once everyone was dressed, they headed out to the vehicles, and Liam stuffed the extra shirt into Leo’s trunk.

“I really don’t know how this is going to go Liam.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ice skating? Do you seriously trust me with knives on my feet?”

“Well good thing you’re not just Riley Brooks today, you’re the science officer for the USS Enterprise. Live long and prosper.”

Liam expected Riley to be as horrible on ice skates as she had been on roller skates, but Riley amazingly was incredibly balanced.

“Have you ice skated before?”

“No! I don’t know how I'm good at this! I usually have no natural balance.”

“You’re a natural at skating…”

“Ice skating. Let's clarify that.”

Taylor was still sitting on the bench watching the couples skate by. “She still hasn’t gotten out on the ice yet. I think she’s feeling lonely and the extra shirt probably made her think of Nico.”

Liam’s phone beeped. “Why don’t you go sit with her for a little bit, and I’ll be back in a few with some hot cocoas for us all.”

“Is cocoa your favorite drink?”

“Yes, and my mom used to always say your heart won’t feel cold if you always have a nice warm cup of cocoa. It always makes me feel better.”

I went to sit with Taylor and Liam continued walking toward the concessions stand.

“You okay?” I asked Taylor.

“I just don’t feel like skating, and look over there.”

Nico was there, with another girl on his arm.

“To be honest I never liked him Taylor. He called you T, like you were a drink or a shirt or something. He wasn’t even really that nice. Good riddance, I say.”

“I never thanked you for standing up for me that day Riley. It really meant a lot.”

“You’re my sister Taylor. I will always have your back, even when you pull me into a tornado.”

“Not on purpose!” She laughed.

“Oh it never is.” I remarked pulling Taylor closer to me in a hug. After a few seconds she pulled away from me.

“What are you doing here?”

“Helping Liam deliver hot cocoa. This one is yours.

I don’t like all the extra stuff in mine.”

Drake handed Taylor her cocoa, as he sat down next to her.

“Just hot and cocoa pretty much then right?”

“Exactly. I’m not that difficult to understand.”

“Do you like to ice skate, Drake?”

“Like it? It’s okay, but I can. Would you like to skate Taylor?”

Drake took off his coat wearing the remaining ugly sweater.

“Okay.” Taylor said in a nonchalant voice.

Taylor’s mood picked up immediately as she skated around with Drake on the ice. She never once glanced in Nico’s direction.

“That was really nice of you to do Liam.”

“He really does like her, you know. Maybe now she can finally see him with Nico out the way.”

“You’re so adorkably sweet Liam.”

“I know Riley, I know.”

[fadingreveries]

The Royal Romance, Bk1 Ch2: Welcome to Cordonia (Pt. 3)

Click here for the TRR retelling series masterlist for more chapters! 🏰

Story Summary: In this novel-style retelling of TRR, beloved scenes with original commentary from the Choices stories including your favourite group of royals and friends will be expanded upon. Contains extended commentary and scenes from the original story, in-depth descriptions of bonus scenes, and premium choices and outfits.

Chapter Synopsis: Riley travels to Cordonia, but what will await her there?

Word Count: 2.2k

Disclaimer: All rights to original commentary, scenes, and characters from The Royal Romance series reserved to Choices and Pixelberry Studios. No copyright infringement intended.

~ ~ ~

Pulling along her suitcase, Riley followed Maxwell to the front doors of the palace. Maxwell nodded in acknowledgement to the officers of the King’s Guard dressed in their black uniforms as they opened the doors for them.

The coffered ceilings of the castle were much higher than she imagined they could be with beams laid in a grid which created a pattern of recessed squares. There were rooms leading to sitting areas that had furniture and objects fancier than she had ever seen with plush velvet couches, dainty bouquets in vases, intricate gold and glass centrepieces, and sparkling crystal chandeliers.

“I thought the outside was amazing on its own, but being inside…” Riley wondered aloud, her head swivelling around as she lost her trail of thought.

It was only until she entered the palace where she realized how different her world was from Liam’s. He had grown up here, learned to follow his father’s footsteps as a prince, met all kinds of nobles, and possibly brought fancy socialites home after dates. This was his childhood home; his whole world seemed to embody glamour and prestige.

She, on the other hand, had grown up in a cramped but cozy apartment with her mother and father. It wasn’t much, but the love her parents had for her and each other was more than what most people were lucky to have. With her American upbringing, her Korean mother’s roots, and her father’s Filipino culture, she was grateful for the homes she would forever have in the U.S., the Philippines, and South Korea.

They showered her with love and reassurance, frequently reminding her that family was the most important thing to cherish that motivates and grounds you at the same time. She never felt like she had lacked anything in her life, not when she had the most loving, supportive parents anyone could have.

At least that’s what it felt like before she lost the two people she loved the most in her life. But that was a story for another time, one for where there was less pressure and anticipation facing some of the most important people in Codonia.

A small piece of doubt began to spring up once again in her mind. Based on her appearance alone, it was clear that she was not from Cordonia, much less part of the country’s nobility or highly-respected citizens. She didn’t want to let Maxwell and his brother down from her upcoming representation of their house.

But in a split second, as she’d done everyday since they were no longer in her life, she heard her parents’ words in her mind saying, One day at a time.

“It’s like a whole other world, huh? Don’t worry, you have tons of time to roam and explore and get used to it,” Maxwell reassured her, as he followed her gaze landing on all lighting and fixtures. “After all, you’ll be here for the next few months of the social season.”

They made their way to the grand staircase with gold handrails decorated with artistic panel inserts of flowing swirls. A large velvet red carpet regally covered the steps leading up to the top platform where it separated into two staircases that led to the left and left wings of the castle.

“So, what’s the deal with Drake? Why is he… so jaded?” Riley questioned, fixating on the elegant staircase she had only ever really seen replicas of in movies. Seeing all the luxury decorations and furniture reminded her of Drake's annoyance with her fascination with all the new sights she was seeing. “Is he always like that?”

“I can get that for you,” Maxwell offered, implying Riley’s suitcase as she willingly handed it to him. He lifted it up as they climbed the staircase together, before answering her question, “Oh, don’t mind him. Drake’s never really… fit in. He doesn’t like court as much as others love being part of it.”

“Not used to courtly life?” Riley suggested, glancing at Maxwell for confirmation.

“Definitely not. Technically, he’s a commoner. He grew up here at court with us, but he’s… always been an outsider here in a way. Even if he is Liam’s best friend,” Maxwell responded, even though it was something he wondered himself as well.

With a nod, Riley pondered his answer. It made sense why he seemed to stick out like a sore thumb compared to Liam and the others, although it didn’t seem plausible that someone would choose to stay in a place where they would only be somewhat excluded.

She questioned, “But if he’s not fond of spending time with royals and nobles, is there a reason why he tries to tolerate it so much? Besides being there for Liam, I’m guessing.”

“Beats me,” Maxwell responded, shrugging his shoulders. “Sometimes it’s hard to know what he’s thinking. He’s pretty much known for being mysterious and antisocial to almost everyone, so I wouldn’t take it personally.”

At the top of the stairs, Maxwell and Riley turned down one of the many elegant corridors of the castle. The ivory marble floors were decorated with intricate designs of mosaic art and sophisticated medallions. A gleaming chandelier glistened from the sunlight peering into the hall through the arched glass windows. The gold accents on the walls brought out the pastel blue that brightened up the space.

“Your room’s here in the west wing. In case you need anything from me or my brother, our rooms are just a couple rooms away,” Maxwell informed her, as the two of them walked past several large wooden arched doors.

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. For some reason, Maxwell struck her more as an only child with his keenness for adventure and love for the spotlight. She wondered if his brother was as easy-going and laid-back as he was. Riley curiously commented, “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Yeah, an older brother. His official title is Duke Bertrand Beaumont. As the eldest son, he’s the heir and I’m the spare. You’ll see him tonight. He’ll be excited to meet you,” Maxwell answered with a smile, although his last sentence had a hint of uncertainty that Riley hadn’t noticed. He already had a slight idea on how his brother would react, and well... let’s just say they would have to brace themselves.

Maxwell stopped short in front of a magnificently ornate door with the dark wood accentuating the designs. As Riley stood beside him, he turned the doorknob. Oh, boy. If this didn’t get her even more excited than he was about solving House Beaumont’s problem of not having a suitor, he would run down the corridor and do three cartwheels in a row.

“This is it… Here’s your room!” Maxwell revealed, with a giddy edge to his voice.

Riley entered a lavish guest room with a gold and dark magenta palette accompanying full-length paintings and gilded ceilings. Two end tables with beige and gold accents to the solid wood foundation were placed on both sides of the queen bed with understated white lamps on top of them. A shiny gold candle chandelier hung daintily above Maxwell and Riley, where they stood underneath it beside the bed with silky cream sheets and dark fuchsia pillows matching the ottoman nearby.

“Wow…” was all Riley could muster, as her neck craned high and low to take in the simple, regal style of the bedroom.

It was official; she had fallen asleep and dreamt of being in an alternate universe where she was treated as if she were royalty. Even if it was only temporary, she could only imagine what her younger self would do if she knew how lucky she was to be where she was now.

“As a royal guest, you’re spared no luxury,” Maxwell said, matter-of-factly as he observed her walking out the balcony where the cool, fresh air blew in peacefully.

Looking over her shoulder back at him with a hint of mischief to her smile which he recognized as resembling one of his own, Riley asked, “So nothing’s stopping me from jumping on the bed?”

“There’s not much anyone can take away from you by doing that. Maybe only your dignity.” Maxwell guffawed, watching as her shoulders rose up in anticipation.

As her smile turned up even more in delight, Riley clasped her hands together and simply said, “Perfect.”

With a running start, Riley rushed over from the balcony and leaped on to the bed with a soft plop. As she sunk into the mattress and felt the smooth silk sheets over her, she sighed happily. When was the last time she had ever been able to let out a true peaceful sigh in a very rare calm moment? Due to school and work, it seemed she hadn’t been able to rest easy in years.

“Ah… this is so much better than memory foam,” Riley complimented, snuggling with a fluffy pillow and allowing herself to close her eyes to cherish the peace and quiet. “I feel like I could sleep here forever.”

“Just one of the perks you have as one of the Crown Prince’s suitors,” Maxwell remarked, laughing in goodhearted nature. He walked away from the bed towards the door. “I’ll let you settle in before your big debut tonight.”

Immediately, Riley’s eyes opened in shock at his words. What did he mean? She sat up in surprise, calling after him, “My what?”Maxwell stopped at the door, before turning back to Riley with a nervous smile. Whoops. He knew he was forgetting something, but he couldn’t figure out what.

“I’m sorry, I keep forgetting that you’re not used to all this. Things are always complicated around here when it comes to special events like this, but we’ll take it one step at a time,” Maxwell reassured her. Riley’s shoulders relaxed a bit, so he continued to clarify, “The first event of the social season is tonight… The Masquerade.”

“Oh… it sounds important,” Riley commented, fiddling with her fingers. Her knowledge of fitting in with socialites and moguls was limited. She couldn’t help but think about how out of place she might look in front of the finest nobles of Cordonia. She thought she would have had a little bit more time to prepare. “I’ve never been to an event like that before. Are there scheduled activities I need to prepare for in advance?”

“Compared to the balls held to welcome nearby countries, not really. Sometimes, they go full-out with the masquerade theme where everyone takes off their masks at midnight. Then, networking goes on for hours,” Maxwell explained. “This ball, though, is where all the suitors will be presented to the Prince, as well as to the King. Most people at court already know each other really well, so it’s less uptight in a way. Just good music, dancing, and food.”

“Does that mean the guests have to be in specific costumes with masks prepared tonight?” Riley questioned, finding the idea of attending a masquerade for the first time interesting.

Shrugging his shoulders, Maxwell replied, “Not everyone dresses in costume, but some people plan months finding one to wear for it. You can be sure that the ladies competing for Liam’s attention will be pulling out all the stops.”

For a split second, Maxwell glanced doubtfully at Riley’s modestly-looking suitcase. When they were at her apartment back in New York, he watched as she hurriedly packed her most essential belongings. Among her things in her suitcase were keepsakes and books as well as her quintessential New York attire.

“I’m guessing it’s too much to ask if you’ve got a costume or fancy ballgown in there,” Maxwell joked, although he was seriously racking his brain trying to remember if she stuffed one or two in there as a backup.

With a sheepish smile, Riley lifted her suitcase on the bed. She unzipped the main compartment where she pulled out a flowy, floor-length dress as blue as the calm Cordonian sky. “I packed a dress.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure, so I’ve made an appointment for you at the palace boutique. Maybe you’ll find something you like better there!” Maxwell cheerfully informed her.

For once, he wasn’t scrambling to fix things; he was actually preparing in advance. Bertrand would be so proud of his initiative. Maxwell just knew it.

Tucking her dress back into her suitcase for the meantime, Riley replied, “I’ll check it out. There’s nothing wrong with another option or two.”

“Remember, tonight is very important. It’s your chance to make a first impression on all the influential people at court and to stand apart from everyone else. If you’re going to leave a lasting impact, you might as well stun them with some style,” Maxwell responded, with a hint of cool confidence in his last sentence.

Triple S’s and alliteration? Man, was he on a roll with smooth words. Maxwell could definitely shimmy his way into being a reality TV show host. Maybe The Bachelorette or The Bachelor could use a new host in the near future…

An eager grin made its way on her face, as Riley reassured him, “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

~ ~ ~

Click here for the TRR retelling series masterlist for more chapters! 🏰

Tag list: @kingliam2019 @princess-geek @karahalloway @twinkleallnight @tinkie1973 @tessa-liam

[alj4890]

A Slight Detour

(Liam x Riley) in a Choices The Royal Romance one shot as requested by @twinkleallnight

@twinkleallnight sent me the above image for inspiration. How cute is that little figurine?! Hope you get to feeling better soon!

Taken from Book 2 of The Royal Romance

Masterlist

**********

Paris...

"I think we should plan on meeting with the Prime Minister," Madeleine studied the latest itinerary, "and with the Foreign Minister."

She grimaced at their already tight schedule for the next couple of weeks.

"Perhaps we could do a luncheon before we leave for Shanghai."

She glanced up at the silent man beside her and waited on his approval.

Liam had his chin propped up on his fist as he watched the streets of Paris go by in a blur. His mind was nowhere near where a newly crowned king's should be. He instead was stuck in a daydream of what this engagement tour could be like if he'd been free to choose the woman he wanted.

His lips slightly curved at the thought. He knew that meeting with Heads of State would have taken a backseat if Riley was his fiancee. He'd have ignored his duty to show her just how romantic Paris can be if one was with the perfect person.

How had he been so fortunate to find the one meant for him and yet equally as unfortunate to be denied her?

"Your majesty?" Madeleine said a bit louder.

Liam jumped over hearing the slight shrill sound of her irritated voice.

"Pardon me." He mumbled. "Did you say something?"

Madeleine huffed before launching into another round of reminding him of his duty.

"Does that change in schedule agree with you?" She prompted when he remained silent.

"Yes, of course." He responded.

Liam knew there was little else he could say. He might be king with all the power that came with it, but he knew it was nothing more than an illusion. No one was more tightly bound with little say in anything than he was.

Madeleine eyed him silently after adding their latest event.

"Is something wrong?" She asked.

Liam blinked. He couldn't recall her ever caring what type of mood he was in. He must be more despondent than usual if Madeleine noticed.

"Nothing to concern yourself over." He told her.

Madeleine rolled her eyes. One look at his face was all she needed to see he was thinking of Riley. He was the kind of man who probably expected the City of Love to truly be that very thing. It was foolish to think such in her opinion, but she supposed she could be magnanimous to the less fortunate.

"You have some free time after the fashion show." She pointed out. "Why don't you invite Riley to spend the evening with you?"

Liam's startled gaze flew to her face. "What?"

"I said, why don't you invite--"

"I heard that part." Liam interrupted. "I'm merely shocked that you would suggest such a thing."

"You hid your little rendezvous in Venice, quite well." She complimented. "I trust you to do the same here in Paris."

He knew that was all she asked of him.

"Don't embarrass me", Madeleine pleaded on the night of their engagement. "As long as you keep your affairs out of the news, I will not care who or what you do."

It felt odd. He didn't care one bit for Madeleine, but to still have one's fiancee give her blessing, even help set time for his dates, it was weird to say the very least.

Liam lowered the privacy barrier to speak to their driver.

"Pull over, please."

The moment the car paused at the next corner, Liam got out.

"Where are you going?!" Madeleine demanded.

"I need to clear my head." He told her.

"But the fashion show!" She shrieked. "It's being held specifically for us and Cordonia!"

"I'll be there." He promised.

Liam mentally groaned when Bastien stepped out to follow him.

"There's no need for you to come along." He argued.

Bastien, ever stoic, shook his head.

"Forgive me sir, but there is. You're not about to walk down the street alone when--"

"As king," Liam bit out, "I order you back in the car."

"Your majesty, I must insist--"

"Now." Liam told him.

Bastien sighed. He stepped closer to whisper, "You should be fine, just please pay attention to your surroundings."

"Thank you." Liam responded. "I need some time alone."

"I understand, sir." Bastien bowed before returning to the car.

Liam watched the procession continue on without him.

He took a deep breath, glanced about, and began walking down the sidewalk.

I wish Riley was--

"Liam!"

He turned about with a start.

Riley jogged over, pausing before him to bend over and catch her breath.

"My lady!" He exclaimed, bending down so he could see her face. "What are you doing out here?"

"I saw you get out and I decided to follow." She panted.

He shook his head, his first genuine smile forming.

"I'm fine," she wheezed when he gently touched her back in concern, "just very, very out of shape."

He chuckled, causing her smile to appear in hearing such a sound.

"What are you doing?" She asked, once she could speak without wheezing.

"Walking." He held his arm out to her. "Care to join me?"

Her smile widened as she linked her arm with his.

"I gathered that." She replied. "But where are you going?"

"Nowhere in particular." He told her with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "I simply was tired of being King Liam."

"Hmm." Riley paused mid step. She let go of his arm, moved directly in his path, and studied him.

Liam cocked an eyebrow in response.

Her eyes sparkled as she took in the handsome man before her. Her tender smile caught his attention as he waited to see what she would do next.

"And just who do you wish to be right now?" She asked.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Liam bashfully ducked his head as he gave voice to what he wished.

"I want to be the man who can go out with the woman he loves."

He lifted his bright, blue eyes to Riley.

"I want to show you all the spots I dreamed of taking the person," he stepped closer to cup her cheek, "who would become my heart."

He pressed his forehead against hers.

"You, my love, are now the very thing I find myself wishing for everywhere I go."

Unable to resist him a second longer, Riley looped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Liam clutched her close to deepen the kiss. He felt his spirits lift that he was finally able to share a kiss with the love of his life on the very streets he used to daydream doing so.

"I love you." She whispered, kissing him once more.

"I love you," he hugged her close, "so very much, Riley."

She grinned, taking his hand in hers. "So? Where should we go first?"

"Anywhere." He laced his fingers with hers. "Any place we go will be all the better with you by my side."

"You're going to have to stop that." Riley playfully warned. "We'll never leave this spot if you keep saying such sweet things to me."

"Would that be so terrible?" He asked, gently pulling her close once more. "I could happily remain here for all eternity if it meant I could be with you."

"Liam." She sighed. "What am I to do with you?"

"I can think of a great many things." He winked at her, feeling lighthearted for the first time in a long while.

She laughed and began to pull him down the street. "I'm almost tempted to demand you tell me some of those."

"Almost, hmm?" Liam smiled at her. "I suppose I will have to do all I can to tempt you even more."

"You are enough temptation as it is." She teased. "A girl can only handle so much before she tries to find some dark, hidden nook to pull Prince Charming in."

Liam stopped her. She watched as he began to scan their surroundings.

"What are you doing now?" She asked.

"Looking for a dark, hidden nook."

Her burst of laughter brought him such joy. This was what he needed. No stress of saying the right thing to the right people. No keeping a neutral expression on his face. No pretending to be the happy fiance of another woman.

He needed moments like this with Riley. He wanted to flirt with and touch the woman treating him like any normal man she would have met in a bar.

"Oh look!" She exclaimed, dragging him over to a shop's window.

Liam took in the many different figurines in the window. An entire miniature village was set off in the distance while little figures of people and animals were displayed to show life along the French countryside.

"I've always loved miniatures." Riley said softly. "My grandparents collected all kinds of them. I used to play with them when I was little."

She chuckled over the childhood memories that flooded her mind. As a little girl, she created a world of daydreams with the ceramic and metal figures.

"Would you like to go in?" He asked.

"Can we?" She asked. "I know we eventually have to go to the fashion show."

Liam glanced at his watch. Time was getting away from him. He knew the event hall was only five blocks away, but he did have interviews and such to contend with, especially since the entire show was for Cordonia's benefit.

His lips firmed into a thin line. He was not going to let any of that dictate this rare moment alone with Riley.

Opening the shop's door, he stepped back so Riley could go in first.

There was no hiding her excitement in exploring this place. Taking Liam's hand once more, she dragged him from one glass case to another, pointing out ones similar to the many she'd grown up with.

Liam indulged her, listening as intently as one possibly could. His tender smile remained upon her as she laughed and shared her secret stories she'd once created. He found himself falling even more for this unexpected side of Riley.

As they admired the craftsmanship of a set of tin soldiers, Liam's attention was drawn towards a little ceramic figure.

The groom was carrying his bride in his arms while she was kissing his cheek.

He felt his heart sink for the first time since Riley joined him on this little excursion. His future was racing towards a wedding, one he couldn't quite fathom happening. The little bride had blonde hair, much like Madeleine's.

I can never have that smile around Madeleine, he thought. I can't have that be my life.

Riley followed his gaze when she felt him tense up beside her. She knew, just by his somber expression that he was thinking of Madeleine.

Slipping her arms around his waist, she hugged him from the side.

"I'd like to think that could be us one day." She admitted.

Liam wrapped his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her close. "You do?"

Riley nodded, forcing a smile for his sake. She didn't want to let him know how worried she was that she would fail in finding a way for them to be together. He already had so much pressure as it was upon him. She couldn't add her own.

She reached over and lifted the figurine to study it closer. Unshed tears filled her eyes.

"I think I'm going to buy this." She decided. "For us."

"Us?" He took it from her. "The bride would need dark hair to be you."

"Or I could color mine." She reminded him.

Liam ran his fingers through her silky, black hair.

"I'm rather fond of this color." He said softly.

She playfully poked his side. "You better be."

He laughed then placed a lingering kiss on her forehead.

"I still think this is us." Riley declared. "Look at how happy they are."

She lifted her eyes to his. "I know I'm this way around you."

"And I with you." Liam murmured.

Riley reached for the figurine, eyes widening when Liam kept it out of her reach.

"I want to buy that." She told him.

"And I want to buy it for you, my love." He insisted. "For us."

"But, I--"

"Allow me, please." He pleaded.

Riley studied him for a few seconds. She could tell he needed this reminder as much as she did that they would find their way to their own happily ever after.

"Okay." She said softly. "Thank you, Liam."

The two walked quietly, both in deep thought, towards the venue once their purchase was complete.

"Riley?" Liam stopped her before they needed to revert to their current roles.

"Yes?"

"Would you like to go out with me this evening?"

"You know I would." She hesitated at the side door. "Where could we go?"

"Somewhere where we can enjoy Paris and be alone." He explained.

"I'd love that." She took the little box from him. "I'll hold on to this for us."

Glancing about to make sure no one was near, she pressed a tender kiss to his lips.

"I'll see you tonight." She whispered.

Once she disappeared, he looked up, trying to summon the will to be King Liam of Cordonia once more.

It was hard to find the strength to do so. All he wanted, was to continue this slight detour from his life. Was that asking for the impossible?

He glanced at the Eiffel Tower in the distance. He quickly called Bastien to set up a private tour for this evening. The place was meant for romance and he intended to take complete advantage of it.

But that would have to wait.

Squaring his shoulders, he entered into the venue. The moment he stepped inside, he was bombarded by his security team, nobles, and reporters.

He reminded himself that if he could get through these next couple of hours, he would be rewarded with an evening being simply Liam. No demands. No one expecting him to say the right things at the right time. No more pretending.

He was determined to have all that and more with Riley.

He would do everything within his power to make that little figurine a reality for them soon.

[uselessgay10101]

~Dance under the rainbow~

[tessa-liam]

Royal Adventures

All Hallow's Eve

Chapter 1

Book: Choices, The Royal Romance Series Finale

A Smoke & Mirrors Series Alternate Universe

Pairing:

King Liam Rys x F!MC Queen Riley Brooks-Rys

Series Inspiration: Royal Misadventures Smoke & Mirrors series 1-shot 

Series Premise: 12-year-old Crown Princess Eleanor Rys of Cordonia has officially started her Royal education. Tutors that had been personally selected by His Majesty King Liam Rys and Queen Riley Rys were set to begin her royal lessons, and her days were packed full. The young princess was a natural leader, and the King and Queen could not be prouder.   

Rating:  M, not Beta'd-please excuse all errors    

Category: On-going series, fluff 

Warnings: swearing, drinking 

Most Characters belong to Pixelberry Studios 

Chapter Summary: Ellie enlists help from her uncles, Leo and Maxwell to pull off a Halloween prank on her uncle Drake...with two unexpected situations that may spoil her fun...maybe. 

Words: 2.0 k

Royal Adventures 

All Hallow’s Eve, chapter 1 

Cordonian Royal Palace

"Ellie, you're so funny," William howled in laughter. 

"It'll be great," Eleanor insisted, her eyes lighting up with excitement. After describing her plans to her brothers, she was determined to make her idea happen. 

"Drake will never see it coming," Stefan agreed, giggling. 

"Okay, now I need Uncle Leo and Uncle Maxwell." Puling out her phone, Ellie tapped -

Ramsford Country Club - Golf course, 11th hole

"Nice swing, Your Majesty," Drake smirked slyly. 

Liam chuckled, "I can't believe it took us so long to do this." 

"Yeah, well, ruling a country takes a lot of time," Drake laughed. 

Handing his club to his caddy, Liam sighed, "So, what do you think of the club? 

"I have to admit, it's pretty awesome." 

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."  Liam took a swig of water.

"I could get used to this," Drake replied, sipping on a cold beer. 

"We should do this more often." 

"That would be great, Li" 

Liam's phone vibrated, and he pulled it out to answer a call from his daughter...

'Hi, Daddy, can you give Uncle Drake a message?' 

'What is it, Princess?' 

'Tell him - Gotcha.' 

Chuckling, Liam replied ...

'Okay, sweetheart. I will.'

He put his phone away, with a puzzled look, and decided not to question her. 

"Ellie ... wanted me to tell you ... 'Gotcha'." 

Noticing Liam's expression --"What is it?" Drake asked with hesitation. 

"I'm not entirely sure, Drake. Give her a call later. Riley is planning a surprise party tonight for the kids."

Drake looked puzzled. "What the hell does that mean?" 

Grabbing another club from the caddy, Liam shook his head. "Yeah, well ... she has a costume waiting for me to wear."

"Really? ...they are going to enjoy an American tradition...New York style."  Drake chortled, "Knowing Riley, she will pull out all the stops."

Snickering, Drake added, "I want to hear all about it."

Liam raised an eyebrow, "That's a hard NO! Now, let's finish up our round." 

"Sure, Your Majesty."  Drake continued to snicker.

Meanwhile, in the clearing behind Drake's cabin. 

"Okay, Ellie, you're the mastermind, what do you need us to do?" asked Leo. 

"We're gonna need a ton of fake spiders, some black cloth, and lots of fake cobwebs." 

"On it!" Maxwell cheered. I had all the supplies dropped off after he left for the golf course.

"And the fog machine!" Ellie looked pleased, as Maxwell uncovered a cage beside it.

"That's diabolical!" Leo sneered as he opened a box of plastic bats and spiders.

"...and ... la meillure partie."  (the best part)...

"Perfect," she giggled. 

"What else, Ellie?" 

"Hmmm. I know, we can add sound effects for the bats, and the fan will swirl and make the spiders come alive." 

"How'd you get these ideas anyway, Ell?"

"From the best horror movie ever made," she replied proudly. 

"Which one is that?" asked Leo. 

"Nightwing." 

"That's an old movie, isn't it?" 

"Yes, it is," she replied, "but it's the best." 

"I'm surprised the nanny let you watch that," said Maxwell. 

"She didn't. Mom did, though." 

"Oh, man, your mother's gonna kill me," Leo groaned. 

"Don't worry, Uncle Leo, this will be so worth it," Ellie giggled. 

"I'm still not sure about this, kid. You really want to pull this prank on Uncle Drake?" 

"Trust me, Uncle Max, I promise I won't tell anyone," She insisted. 

"If you say so, kid." 

"All right, Ellie, we're ready," Leo called out. 

"Awesome, let's get started."

They placed the fake spiders all around the cabin and draped the black cloth over the furniture. 

"What's next?" 

"We need to put the real bats in the rafters." 

"The real bats? How did you find those?" Maxwell gasped. "That is so cool!" 

"I ...may have asked one of the menagerie guards in Valtoria." she replied proudly. 

"Damn, Ellie," Leo cackled. "I am so proud of you!" 

"Thanks, Uncle Leo. Now, let's get started." 

After their plan was set in motion, they hid behind the bushes and waited outside of Drake's log cabin. 

As the fog machine began to create a thick haze around the cabin, the lights inside flickered on and off, and the sounds of bats echoed throughout all the rooms inside. 

"Holy crap," exclaimed Leo. 

"It looks like the set of a horror movie." 

"It's perfect," Ellie beamed. 

"Wait until he comes back." 

"What do we do then?" asked Leo. 

"Hide, of course. I'll tell you when to jump out." 

"Sounds good to me." 

***

Drake was exhausted after his round of golf with Liam. He couldn't wait to relax by the fire with a cold beer and some good music. Not paying particular attention to the fog outside.

However, when he walked into the cabin, his entire body went rigid. 

He was met by a sea of cobwebs and fake, moving spiders. 

The lights flickered, and the sound of bats echoed through the air. 

"What the fuck?!" 

Trying the light switch, Drake felt something flutter on his head. 

"This is not fucking funny!" 

He searched the cabin but found no one. 

"Come out, now!" 

Suddenly, the front door slammed shut, and Drake was trapped inside in the dark. 

"This isn't funny anymore!" 

"Whoever did this is going to be grounded until their kids have kids!" 

"I'm serious, now!" 

Drake's blood was boiling, and he was fuming. 

"I don't have time for this bullshit!" 

Suddenly, the music began to blare, and the fog machine created a thick haze. 

The sound of bats echoed throughout the area, and the lights flickered on and off. 

Drake was furious, and he stomped over to the stereo, slamming his fist on the button. 

The music stopped, and the cabin fell silent. 

But the real bats kept flying, and the sounds of bat chirps were all around him. He grabbed a broom and began to knock them down. 

"Fucking bats!" he screamed. 

"Who the hell thought this was a good idea?" 

"It's not fucking funny, Ellie! If you're watching this, it's not fucking funny! Your dad is going to hear about this!" 

Drake was so angry that he didn't notice the front door open, and he was oblivious to the footsteps approaching. 

"Drake?" Liam called out. 

"Fuck!"  Drake jumped at the sound of Liam's voice, and his heart nearly stopped. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" 

"I came to check on you. I heard your yells when I dropped off your clubs on the porch. You forgot them in the SUV." 

"I'm fine," he grumbled. 

"Why is it so dark in here?" 

"It was like this when I came in." 

"I see. So, you're hiding from the spiders." 

"Fuck no! I'm not afraid of fucking spiders!" 

"Okay, then let's turn on the lights and get rid of these." 

"Fine."  Drake exhaled loudly.

Liam flipped the switch, and the cabin was bathed in light. 

"Better?" 

"Yes, much better." 

"Good. Now, why don't we have a seat and relax." 

"Fine." 

They sat on the couch, and Drake poured himself a drink. 

"So, do you have any idea who could've done this?" 

"Not entirely sure," Drake sighed, taking a sip of his whiskey. 

"Well, it was a clever prank." 

"A clever prank? It's not funny, Li." 

"Of course not. But, come on, Drake. You have to admit, it was creative." 

"It was not fucking funny. Someone needs to ground her." 

"Who? 

"Eleanor." 

"My Ellie? She did this?" 

"That's it?" 

"I think she had some help from Leo and Maxwell. She sent that message 'gotcha' to me, and I'm sure they helped her pull this off." 

"Yeah, that's it. And I know for a fact that this was her." 

"How?" 

"Because she's the only one who can get away with shit like this."

"Drake, come on, she's just a little girl." 

"She's twelve, Liam, and she's too smart for her own good. She is just like her mother." 

"Hey, I resent that." 

"It's the truth. Your wife is always coming up with some scheme or another, and now, Eleanor is doing the same thing." 

"Look, Drake, I understand you're upset, but I'm sure she didn't mean any harm." 

"You're not the one that was almost scared to death by bats."

"It could've been worse." 

"Yeah, well, it wasn't. It was just a stupid prank." 

"Look, Drake, I'll talk to her. But, come on, it's Halloween, and she's only twelve. Cut her some slack." 

Drake breathed out loudly, hanging his head.

"I'll make sure she apologizes to you, too."

"Well, I can't argue with that." 

"That's all I ask... now, I need a fucking drink." 

As the two friends relaxed by the fire, Drake decided to let his guard down and enjoy the moment. 

He couldn't believe Eleanor was able to pull off a prank like that. She had to have had help. He knew she had a mischievous side, but he never expected her to be so bold. 

"Well, I'm glad you find this amusing," Drake grumbled looking at Liam.

Liam, on the other hand, was amused by the whole situation. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself at the thought of his daughter scaring Drake. 

"Drake, come on, the princess just wanted to have a little fun. And, let's face it, you can be a bit of a grouch sometimes." 

"Gee, thanks." 

"It's the truth. And you know it." 

"Fine, I may have been a bit grumpy. But that doesn't excuse the fact that she scared the shit out of me." 

"Again, she's only twelve, and you were in no danger. I'll talk to her." 

"Good, thank you." 

As the two friends relaxed by the fire, Drake couldn't help but wonder what else the princess would get up to in the future.

"Here's to Eleanor Rys and her sense of humor," Liam said proudly, raising his glass. 

"May she always find joy in life, even if it's at the expense of others." 

"And here's to you, Liam, for putting up with me," Drake chuckled. 

"Cheers." 

They clinked their glasses together and drank deeply, enjoying each other's company. 

They had no idea that their princess had already hatched a new scheme in her head, and she was determined to get the upper hand on her uncle Leo. 

It was going to be a long Halloween season. 

As Drake and Liam enjoyed their drinks, the princess and her uncles were having a celebration of their own outside the cabin. 

"Did you see his face?" Leo chuckled. 

"That was epic," Maxwell added. 

"You were brilliant, Ellie," said Leo. 

"Thanks, Uncle Leo," Ellie giggled and hugged her uncles.

"Happy Halloween." 

@choicesficwriterscreations

@choicescommunityevents

🍁tags in the comments

[angelasscribbles]

The King's Mistress

Series: None, this is a one-shot and you can find those here.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Rating: NSFW 🍋

Warnings for this chapter: Slight Lemons, infidelity

Word Count: 822

My other stuff: Master List.

Story is under the cut.......

The Duchess of Valtoria was perched on the edge of an expansive mahogany desk with her head thrown back and her elegant evening gown hiked up around her waist, moans of ecstasy spilling out of her as the king stood with his pants tangled around his ankles thrusting into her. Her perfectly manicured nails sank into his ass, spurring him on.

He had been waiting for a moment alone with her all damn day. Sitting next to her for two hours in the budget meeting had been bad enough, but then she had shown up at the annual Ambassador’s Ball in a dress that ought to be criminal. Holding her in his arms on the dance floor while maintaining proper decorum had been excruciating. Getting her somewhere private had jumped to number one on his priority list.

Her screams filled his ears as his eyes locked on her face, watching the rapturous euphoria of her release dance across her features. She cried out his name as he spilled himself inside her.

“Riley…” his lips brushed the side of her neck as a hand tangled in her hair and pulled her closer.

He couldn’t get enough of her. He was bewitched by the way she loved with such wild abandon. She cared nothing for the intrigues of the court or the judgments of others. She was a wild thing, free in a way he longed to be.

He had been surrounded his entire life by crown chasers and sycophants, but Riley was different.

Maybe the raging inferno she ignited within him was love, or perhaps she represented the path he had almost chosen before duty and sacrifice had landed him right back where he started.

Either way, she had chosen him when she’d had no idea who he was. And that meant something to him.

He stepped away from her reluctantly and pulled his pants up. “I should get back before my wife sends a search party to find me.”

Riley made a face as she scooted to the edge of the desk. A slight sound of displeasure issued from the back of her throat.

He took her hand and helped her to her feet. Despite his assertation that he was needed back in the ballroom forthwith, he took his time carefully and tenderly helping her adjust her dress back into place. His fingers kept making detours to trail down a bare arm or trace across the back of her neck.

When her clothes were righted, his hands ran once again through her now tousled hair. “Sorry, I made a mess of that updo.”

“It’s ok,” she laughed as she plucked the few remaining clips free and shook her head, sending waves of riotous curls cascading down her back. “But I am going to need a little help fixing it.”

“Hm.” A bright smile lit up his face as humor danced through his ocean blue eyes. “I command armies, negotiate with dictators, and the Cordonian stock market can rise or fall based on my mood, but alas, I am utterly helpless in the face of a hair emergency.”

“I know!” She gave him a playful slap on the shoulder, “But I left my phone in my clutch, which is back in the ballroom…”

His grin widened. “It’s ok, I’ve got you.” He produced his phone and brandished it in front of her. “Hana?”

“Hana,” she agreed with a nod.

His fingers flew across the phone pad as he sent a text to Bastien Lykel, the head of his king’s guard, to find and escort Lady Hana Lee to his office.

“She’s on her way. I hate to leave you, but I really do need to get back. The ambassador from Rival—”

“It’s fine, go.” She waved him away as she headed for the attached bathroom to check on her makeup. Being seen re-entering the ballroom together would just cause more whispers anyway.

Not that the entire country didn’t already know. They hadn’t been that discreet. Their relationship was an open secret at court. She was the maîtresse-en-titre as the French would say. The king’s official royal mistress, complete with all the money, titles, land, and security that provided.

She knew that what she gave him in return was more than sex. It was companionship, romantic intimacy, advice, conversation, and a shoulder to lean on when he needed it.

He had married for political reasons, family obligations, and tradition. There was no love between the king and queen.

Still, this wasn’t where she saw her life going when she met him on that cruise ship and mistook him for a broke college student.

His voice stopped her before she made it through the door. “Hey, Riley?”

She turned back toward him. “Yeah?”

That grin that always sent butterflies shocking through her broke out across his face. “I love you.”

She returned his smile as he retreated into the hallway. “I love you too, Leo.”

[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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Ghosted

Ghosted - Altering Visions (Chapter Eleven)

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

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

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

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

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

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When will I receive payment?” Tariq questioned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leo’s brows furrowed. “Where?” 

“I heard it.”

“Heard what?”

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

“What about her?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leo carefully spoke. “What did you hear?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Move out of my way!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leo winced. “H–he’s not here, Li.”

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

“There’s some other guy outside!” 

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

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

“Liam, wait—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, who took her?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guards?” Olivia repeated. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re being taken into custody.” 

“Whatever for?!” Bastien demanded. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[dcbbw]

WIP Update 5.27.24--Holiday Treats Edition

Hi-de-ho, tumblrs! It is Memorial Day Weekend here in the US, and I am spending the beginnings of the last day  of a 3-day weekend posting WIPs for the first time in what seems like forever!

And I have a lot of WIPs for you today; however, half of them DO NOT HAVE WORDS. I’ll make that up to you by posting extra-long snippets of the ones that do. It’s gonna be a mixed bag, with the majority of these stories being ideas I am unsure popped in my brain or shot themselves out of my ass.

If you have ever read at least one of my WIP updates, you know the drill: all works are in very rough draft and a state of flux; published/posted works may vary. No promises on when anything will be posted, but everything is in an extremely active state of progress.

Everything is below the cut; please enjoy!

Rating is M for Mature because it's me

9 Days a Queen: Based upon the painting The Execution of Lady Jane Grey, and a crapton  of historical dramas, this is the story of the brief yet impactful reign of Queen Riley Brooks of Cordonia.

Object of Affection, Chapter 9: Hard Day’s Night: The Mermaids are on the comeback trail!

Untitled KTAW fic: The suitor from House Theron takes a meeting with the Duke of Ramsford.

The Real Housewives of Cordonia: Lorelei and Hana: The RHOC will be a once-in-awhile series that will focus on a pivotal moment in the lives of the mother/mother-in-law and daughter/daughter-in-law of the ladies of my favorite gang. Except they’re in Cordonia, Connecticut. Once completed, this will be my #HLAW submission.

Dolos: This fic is inspired by my absolute LOVE of Homeland, a now-defunct Showtime series. The subject matter may be triggering to some, so reader discretion is advised. FYI, Dolos is the Greek God of deception, craftiness, and treachery:

“Except one player is notably absent. King Liam of Cordonia,” the host replied.

The visitor slowly lowered his fork. “You have power players such as the United States, Britain, Canada, France … Cordonia will hardly be missed.”

“You’re either stupid or think I am,” the host retorted with the slightest edge to his tone. “Cordonia is in the middle of this maelstrom and trying to play neutral. Which they cannot.”

“You’re still not explaining why I am here with you.”

“King Liam is half Auvernese, his bride is Hidaran. He will have to enter the fray, and when he does, he will be on the wrong side of history. There is a … faction that is willing to ensure that doesn’t happen.”

“Terrorist cells are forming a dime a dozen. It would seem to me that they would jump for joy at a wealthy country financing the winners.”

The host pushed away his plate, his eyes staring into mirrored lenses. “There are no winners here. It’s a complete suicide mission whoever enters the fray; the death of the Supreme One illustrates that. The fact is Cordonia will back the aggressors, regardless of how they spin it, and they have the money and resources to ensure both wars continue for years.”

The visitor lifted his teacup. “And?”

“While this is quite the distraction, other wheels are already in motion that need to be addressed now. In order for that to happen, funding must be cut and diverted. Already, the first-world countries are scaling back. There cannot be a fallback to take their place.”

The visitor sat his cup down, and leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “What are you saying?”

“King Liam must be assassinated; the faction is offering $50 million US dollars to make it happen. Do you want the job?”

This Little Life (Versions Edit): Leo Rhys has died, and his wife and lover finally have the confrontation they’ve waited 20 years for:

We’ve spent the last two decades as an unassuming family living a quiet life in the town of Rury, located in Duchy Krona.  When we were looking for a place to live, I argued returning to my home country of America, but Rury was my husband’s mother’s birth town and seemed the perfect place to escape life in the royal limelight without changing continents.

Yet another compromise I made in the name of our relationship.

Leo spent the first half of our marriage fulfilling his motocross passions and rebuilding with his love, all while using me as a depository for his seed when things went sideways with the one who held his heart. I was essentially a single mother who had hit the child support lottery. I suggested several times we divorce; those were our worst arguments.

When Asher was three, my husband agreed we needed to settle down and focus on raising our family.

We purchased a large farmhouse that sits on the banks of Kingsman River. He used his savings to buy a local farm and construction equipment company that serviced all of Krona and Valtoria to save it from being sold to developers. With his charisma and leadership skills, he was the boss everyone wanted to work for.

I’m Vice-President of Commercial Acquisitions for Cordonia Commerce, the nation’s largest financial institution, a position I was promoted to five years ago. 

We were both active in our community: volunteering at local food banks, and participants in the Krona school system: book drives, bake sales, pestering neighbors and co-workers when it came to fundraisers, coaching soccer and track & field.

There were family dinners and vacations, Sunday feasts, road trips, and pizza nights.

We have four children: twin girls Hope and Joy, who are 19; our son Luca, 15; and our youngest, Asher, who is 13. I love each of them a little harder, hug them a little tighter, and kiss their cheeks a little more often, much to their embarrassment. But I can’t help it; all of them were conceived in drunken indifference, my husband pouring his every misery into my waiting womb after arguments and rejections from another.

It's been a good life, filled with care, respect, and friendship. Honestly, Leo was my best friend. But there was no romantic love, no passion.

Because all we had built together as friends and co-parents, he was supposed to have with his lover, not with me.

I fasten my robe more tightly around my waist as I traipse downstairs; in the living room, reserved for company only, I push apart curtains and twist open venetian blinds. I frown at what passes for dusting in Luca’s world before moving on past the family room where we binge television shows and celebrate holidays.

I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.

Finally, I am in the kitchen, the heart of our home. Arguments, homework, meals, birthday celebrations … they all happen here.  I brew a single cup of the coffee my husband loved; it’s a dark roast from Comery Isle with hints of praline and coconut, which I douse liberally with sugar and cream.

Breakfast will be simple: slices of fried ham; tomatoes, eggs, and yesterday’s rice; yogurt; fruit. I begin pulling dishes and pans from cabinets, food from the refrigerator; my body is rigid, my movements almost robotic. I silently count eggs as I place them in mixing bowl.

Routine, routine, routine.

But suddenly, I can no longer do anything, and I feel the bowl of eggs slip from my hands; I hear it crash against the hardwood flooring.

Grief for so many things overwhelm me, and I slide down a cream-colored wall to the floor, my eyes flooded with tears.

I’m not ready to say goodbye.

Stormholt: Based upon Saltburn. That is all:

My orgasm erupts from the engorged head of my dick like creamy lava from a pornographic volcano. Ropes of seed spurt into the air only to splash back against my member and increasingly sticky hand. My hips thrust against air one last time, and I feel my body shudder.

If you knew Jesus, you wouldn’t be doing that!

Riley’s voice in my mind pushes the last vestiges of the sexual fantasy that awoken me away; with still- closed eyes, I try to calm my labored breathing.

My eyes open, and I study the intricate canopy above my four-poster bed while I lay still. There’s nothing on my agenda this morning except be rich, look good, and suntan: breakfast, workout, pool.

This is the life of the Lord of Stormholt Manor.

The semen and lube are beginning to congeal on my hand, and the tip of my cock feels gummy resting against my thigh. I sit up and shift to the side of the bed; I frown at the sight of sunrise coming through closed, sheer, crimson-colored curtains.

It’s the color of fresh blood.

With the slightest twinge of guilt, I stand and push the drapes open with my clean hand before lighting a cigarette. I stare out the window, seeing my friends and lovers below.  There’s Riley and the baby; Maxwell; Constantine. Regina is in the great room; she enjoys the view of the south gardens from the windows there.

My eyes fall on HIM; anger still roils my stomach at what he did to me.

Betrayal.

I turn away from them; I may or may not stop by to say hello. I begin heading into the bathroom, not bothering with the bed sheets; Gladys will change them. The house is quiet, but that’s to be expected. It’s only 7am; the day officially begins at Stormholt in exactly one hour.

I make short order of my morning’s hygiene; my outfit today will be robe and swim shorts. I’m fastening the sash on robe as I make my way down an immense, window-lined hallway that is in serious need of dusting.

Doors are half-open to bedrooms that currently sit unoccupied. I give cursory glances inside them: beds neatly made, light coatings of dust on furniture, bloody light leaking through closed curtains. Photographs sit on night tables and dresser tops, faces frozen in time. Their eyes look into nothingness, and their lips smile into emptiness.

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