#choices king liam

[choices-binglebonkus]

The more times I read TRH, the more I feel that the writers just pulled Lena out of their ass for TRF.

When the MC and Olivia relive the latter’s memories, they realize that Queen Eleanor was pregnant, and they assume that she died while pregnant. The MC even goes so far as to speculate that maybe she was killed because she was pregnant. More on this in a moment.

It’s also mentioned in Liam’s last memory of her alive that she had just come back from an extended (but pointedly unspecified) period of time away on a trip, which in TRF, is said to be the trip she took to give birth to Lena in secret up in Vallenheim, because she was so afraid of the political climate in Cordonia at the time.

When the gang finds Queen Eleanor’s secret room with all her intel, books, secrets, and even her diary, it becomes clear that Eleanor left it all there for Liam to find. In her diary she even says as much, letting him know that that’s why she’s writing the letter to him: because she feels her enemies closing in, and that if something should happen to her, at least he would have that letter.

And throughout the diary, specifically in the letter to Liam, there’s no mention of Lena anywhere. You’d think that if Eleanor was in such a desperate state that she explicitly wrote a letter to Liam about feeling her enemies closing in and fearing for her life, that she would have mentioned Lena anywhere in the diary to alert Liam that he had a little sibling she gave birth to in secret months prior.

Alas, no such thing. Eleanor drank wine from the poisoned goblet and died that night.

You may stop me right here and say, “Why did Eleanor drink wine from the poisoned goblet if she was pregnant? Clearly she must not have been, and this theory has fallen apart.”

Well, we know Eleanor was hellbent on concealing the pregnancy, especially from Constantine, who was there when Godfrey gifted her the poisoned goblet. She probably felt that she had to imbibe at least a bit of alcohol to avoid suspicion in her husband. So perhaps Eleanor did drink the wine; as little as she could get away with.

We also know that the poisoned goblet didn’t act right away. Eleanor was able to finish her drink with Constantine, discreetly slip away to her secret room (where the goblet was found twenty years later by Liam and co.), get out of the passage, and then an undetermined amount of time later, the poison kicked in and she died.

After she died, the medical examiners determined the cause of her death to be poison, leading Constantine to test all the wines in the cellar. They also likely discovered she was pregnant when she died, which they definitely would have informed Constantine of. Given the nature of paranoia and secrecy of Constantine we’ve come to know over the course of the series, it’s probably safe to assume that he kept the discovery of her pregnancy a secret so as to not show any further signs of weakness within the monarchy.

So. With that out of the way, let’s go back to the MC speculating that Eleanor was assassinated because she was pregnant.

When the gang confronts Godfrey in the Auvernese prison in TRH book 3, Liam is understandably furious with him for killing his mother, saying, “You monster! She was your queen! …She was pregnant.”

You’d think this would evoke some sort of reaction from Godfrey. Surprise, shock, remorse, something. Anything. But he doesn’t react at all…which leads me to believe he was aware of her pregnancy somehow.

And yet he and Barthelemy still went through with their plot.

It was stated that the two had Eleanor killed because she was overextending her power and influencing Constantine, taking power away from the nobles who are “owed” it.

Given Godfrey’s lack of a reaction (what I presume to be because he and Barthelemy knew Eleanor was pregnant), I suspect that Godfrey and Barthelemy feared Eleanor’s pregnancy, should she choose to eventually disclose it to Constantine, would make her even more influential to him, not to mention further cementing her position as queen with another heir. So, the traitorous snakes that they are, they conspired together and had her killed before she could bring the pregnancy to light.

Because there was absolutely no mention of Lena anywhere in Eleanor’s secret room, nor through any of the investigations conducted by Liam or Olivia, I’m convinced that the writers originally had Godfrey and Barthelemy assassinate her because she was pregnant, just as the MC postulated, and tried to retcon it when they started working up to The Royal Finale and realized that having a secret Rys sibling could be a major plot point and weak link to exploit against the Big Bads.

[alj4890]

The Promise

(Liam and his daughter, Charlotte) in a Choices: The Royal Heir drabble

Thirty Kisses in Thirty Days Challenge with the prompt: An "I forgive you." Kiss

A/N I've written a few drabbles of Liam marrying Madeleine and having a daughter with her. Those stories have Charlotte grown and beginning to face the pressures of having to choose a suitor. For this drabble though, Charlotte is a little girl trying to adjust to having a father who can't be there whenever she wants.

Rating G: for family fluff

@gkittylove99 @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @twinkleallnight @lodberg  @amandablink @neotericthemis  @mm2305 @sfb123 @tessa-liam @thesvnsins @krsnlove @busywoman

Masterlist

"Here's another request from the King and Queen of Auvernal, your majesty."

Liam glanced at the documents with forced interest. With Madeleine out of the country visiting many of their allies, he was left to deal with the day to day operations of being King of Cordonia. He'd had more than the usual needs brought to his attention and without his capable queen here to divide the work, he was on his own bearing the full weight of the crown.

"Just set them over there, Galani." He gestured over to a nearby table.

His secretary did as requested. He then cleared his throat to get his king's attention again.

Liam quirked an eyebrow in question.

"You have someone wishing to speak with you, sir."

"Ask them to make an appointment." Liam pointed at his cluttered desk. "I don't have time today to see anyone."

"It's Princess Charlotte, sir."

Liam slumped back in his chair. Other than seeing her at breakfast and tucking her into bed at night, he'd been too busy to spend special time with his daughter. He knew that her visit to his study in the middle of the morning meant that he'd been neglecting her.

"Send her in."

Galani smiled as he opened the door.

Liam felt his spirits lift the moment he saw his seven year old. Charlotte's shy smile was directed first at his secretary bowing to her and then at him.

He got up and came around his desk to crouch down before her.

"How's my princess?" He asked.

"Good." She kept her hands behind her back. "I have a surprise for you."

"You do?" Liam found himself smiling for the first time today. "That is very thoughtful of you."

Charlotte produced a picture she'd drawn.

"My goodness!" Liam pretended to be astounded. "Where did you buy this work of art?"

His daughter giggled. "I didn't buy it, Father!'

"You didn't?" He leaned closer, eyes darting around the room, before whispering, "did you steal it from a museum?"

Her giggles grew louder as she shook her head.

"Then where on earth did you acquire this?"

"I made it!" She announced.

"No!" He gasped. "I knew you were talented, but I had no idea you were at this level."

Charlotte beamed at him. She stepped closer and pointed out the two figures in her drawing.

"That's you and that's me." She told him.

"A perfect likeness." Liam wrapped his arm around her, squeezing her in a side hug. "I see we are at the beach."

"On one of our special walks." She added. "See! There's the pink shells we always try to find."

Charlotte looked at him with a hopeful expression on her little face. "Could we go there today?"

Liam's smile slowly fell. "I'm sorry, dearest, but I'm very busy today."

"Oh."

Charlotte's eyes filled with tears.

Liam couldn't stand to see her unhappy. Scooping her in his arms, he hugged her close.

"We'll make time for a walk another day."

"Yes sir." She mumbled with a sniff.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head then set her down.

"One day soon, you'll be working in here with me and your mother." He told her, hoping that might make her smile again.

Charlotte merely nodded.

"Tell you what." He tried to cajole a smile from her. "How about I try and finish work early enough so that we can have dinner together this evening?"

She nodded, her face scrunched with trying not to cry.

Liam felt his spirits plummet once more.

"Dearest," he began, "we',ll--"

"Princess Charlotte!" Nanny Ferguson burst into the room. "Oh! Forgive me, your majesty. The princess and I were in the library earlier and she must have decided to come see you."

Charlotte colored some. "I'm sorry Nanny. I didn't mean to make you worry. I just didn't want to wait on giving Father his picture."

Her middle aged nanny chuckled warmly. "I understand, your highness."

She knelt down before the little girl. "I never could wait to see my father either when I was your age."

With his brow furrowed, Liam watched his daughter take her caretaker's hand and leave. He could remember all the times in his life where he wanted a moment of his father's attention, only to be told that the needs of Cordonia must come before his own.

Didn't I want to be a different man than my father was? Madeleine and I swore when we had Charlotte that we would not mimic our parents' neglectful ways. Am I doing the very thing I never wanted to do?

"Sir," Galani interrupted his thoughts. "The phone conference with Queen Amalas is ready to begin."

"Right." He glanced down at the colorful drawing in his hands. "Thank you, Galani."

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

"Princess?" Nanny Ferguson called out. "Shall I have the staff prepare your lunch?"

Charlotte looked up from her dollhouse.

"Yes mam." She mumbled with a resigned sigh.

The crown princess missed her parents. Usually if one was busy, the other made certain to spend special time with her. Her mother had been gone for over a week and her father hadn't been able to get away from his duty.

Her nose wrinkled over that word. She still wasn't quite certain what their duty to Cordonia was. She only knew that whatever it was, it kept her from time alone with her parents.

"I hope I'm not interrupting."

Charlotte looked up in surprise to see her father poking his head into the nursery.

"Not at all, your majesty." Nanny reassured him. "The princess and I were just discussing having lunch sent up."

"I see." Liam stepped inside. He winked over at his daughter. "Nanny, might I steal Charlotte away." He cleared his throat. "It's for Crown business."

"Yes, of course." She responded. "I shall have her ready after lunch."

"I'm afraid time is of the essence." He stalked over and picked Charlotte up. "We must depart immediately."

"But, your majesty, when will--"

"No time!" He said, hurrying out the door. "I'll have her back in time for dinner."

Liam slipped through a hidden panel further down the hall which hid a staircase, set Charlotte down, and took her hand.

"Where are we going?" She whispered, knowing this stairwell was only meant to be used in emergencies.

"To the beach." He whispered back. "I escaped my duties and decided to take you with me."

"We're going to the beach?!" She covered her mouth after her excited outburst.

Liam chuckled. "We are. Your drawing made me want to spend some time there with you."

Charlotte threw her arms around his waist and hugged him tight.

Taking her hand, he led her down the stairs and out to a waiting car.

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

"We get to have a picnic too?" Charlotte's eyes widened at the large basket Bastien handed Liam.

"Of course." He smiled down at her. "You didn't think I would forget to bring all our favorite treats for our outing did you?"

"No sir." She replied taking his hand once more.

"Enjoy yourselves." Bastien called out.

"We will!" Charlotte replied.

Liam set up their picnic then gestured for Charlotte to dig through the basket for them.

"Father!" She gasped. "There's no sandwiches!"

"There's not?" He leaned over to peek into it. "That's odd. I could've sworn I packed some."

Charlotte giggled as he grumbled about his memory failing him once more.

"I guess then we are stuck with nothing but treats to eat." He pulled out pieces of vanilla cake. "We'll try and find something more sandwich like on the way back."

She settled next to his side and took a dainty bite. Her eyes closed over the sweet taste of the vanilla frosting.

"Good?" He asked, taking a bite of his own.

"Ummhmm." She said while swallowing a mouthful of cake. "Vanilla is my favorite!"

"Mine too." He added.

"This is the best lunch ever."

Liam smiled at her. "Because of the cake?"

She shook her head. "Because it's me and you at the beach."

"Ah, so it's the location that makes it the best."

"Not that!" She giggled. "Nanny brought me here a few days ago and it wasn't the best."

"No? And why wasn't it?"

"Because you were too busy to come along." She told him.

Liam wrapped his arm around her and set his plate down.

"Dearest," he said softly. "I'm sorry I've been so busy recently."

"You're king." She reminded him. "Mother said that there will be times you can't be with me because of your duty."

"That's true." He hugged her close to his side. "But you are and will always be more important than my duty to Cordonia. Everything I do is for you. I know, as king, I should say it is for our country, but ultimately, you are the only one I'm thinking of with every decision I make."

Charlotte listened quietly.

"I want you to remember that every time it seems that I'm too busy. I also want you to know that it doesn't matter how many hours I work for the Crown, I will always find time for you."

He smoothed her blonde hair back behind her ear that had escaped her ponytail.

"Can you forgive me, princess?"

Charlotte stood up and placed a kiss on Liam's forehead.

He realized she was mimicking his actions whenever she was sad or hurt.

"I forgive you." She said in her sweet, little voice.

Charlotte sat back down to finish eating her cake.

Liam pulled out some more vanilla goodies along with a dish of fruit. He felt more relaxed in this moment than he had all week.

"After we finish, why don't we see if we can find a pretty shell to add to your collection?"

"And one to surprise Mother with?" She added.

"Of course."

Liam smiled over seeing the return of her sunny personality. He didn't want to miss out on anymore special moments with her. She was already growing into a little lady. Her manners and the way she spoke showed how fast the years were slipping away from him. He couldn't let there come a day where the only memories he was left with were those of regret.

No matter what was demanded of his time, he would do all he could to never make Charlotte sad again.

[xxrainbow-princessxx]

Does Distance Make The Heart Grow Fonder? - Oneshot Isabella x Mafia!Leo (Rules of Engagement/The Royal Romance AU) - Part 1

Summary: Isabella and Leo’s Kingdoms both were overthrown by the Via Imperii. The Crown Princess along with her family were exiled whilst the Cordonian Royal Family went underground, fighting to reclaim their throne and hold over the Cordonian People through other means.

TW: Cursing, Implied Violence, Violence, Implied 🍋

Tagging: @lorirwritesfanfic @drakewalkerfantasy @rainbowsinthestorm

@lorircreates @beyondsimsreality @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @secretaryunpaid @rafasgirl23415

“Look who’s back in town…” Liam grinned as he threw down the folded morning newspaper in front of Leo who was already in an Italian cut navy dress suit. His sea green eyes narrowed slightly as he read the headline article, ‘Exiled Crown Princess, Isabella Beaumont-Sánchez to take up Honorary Professor role at Cordonia University’ followed by taking in the professional headshot of the Laurentian beauty who looked no different to how she did when he last saw her at 21.

“At 26…” Liam cleared his throat, “She’s done pretty well for herself…” Leo pursed his lips in silence remembering the last time he saw her, how she ghosted him and how when his world fell apart - she wasn’t there to save him, save them. Lifting his coffee, Leo sighed before taking in the strong aroma, letting the warm liquid soothe his otherwise cold demeanour and with a grumble, he pushed the newspaper out of the way, “So fucking what…” The younger Rys son was taken back slightly at his brother’s reaction, he had loved this woman; she was on a pedestal and the main reason none of Leo’s relationships ever worked out but now she was here, in arms reach - he barely reacted at all. “Leo…” Liam tried to reason with him but was immediately cut off, “Brother…” Leo grunted, “I am warning you, one more word on the subject and I will personally cut out your vocal chords…”

A few weeks had passed. The former Crown Prince, now a well known mobster, found himself staring at his bedroom ceiling most nights lying in bed in his Valtorian mansion. He couldn’t forget what they had, what they were willing to sacrifice for each other to now not even uttering a simple hello or gesture. Leo blamed the Via Imperii for his lost love but once he too had been exiled and the Cordonian Kingdom overthrown, he tried to reach out again but his attempts remained unanswered. Did he really want to find out the truth or would the truth be too much to bear? To Leo, she was the only part of him that was still good, everything else was gone long ago. He was cold, calculating and no matter what he tried to feel something, it had no effect until he saw that picture Liam had shown him a few weeks earlier. After that, his body stung, every pain he locked away seemed to almost re-emerge all at once. “Fuck it” Leo grunted as he rolled over, punching his pillow to make it more comfortable, “Anything can’t be worse than this…”

The following afternoon, Leo had business to attend in the capital. “Does that sounds amenable sir?” Leo’s assistant spoke but Liam and Drake knew something was up, watching as Leo kept staring off out the boardroom meeting room, “We’ll come back on that…” Liam interjected, “Thank you Sofie, I can take it from here…” before Leo signed off something he might later regret his answer to and Liam wasn’t willing to take the wrap on something that when Leo came to that he would be pissed about. “I need some fresh air…” the former Crown Prince mumbled under his breath. Placing his heavily tattooed hands on the table, he pushed himself upwards, pulling his dark woollen coat around him. Turning up his coat collar and shoving his hands into his pockets, Leo walked where his heart took him, passing through the crowds who unknowingly were brushing shoulders with the mafia boss. It was only when Leo finally looked up, he found himself across the street from the University. “Fucking now or never I guess…” Leo shrugged, as he walked across the street.

It didn’t take him long to find out if Isabella was there or not; the packed lecture theatre gave it away. He slipped in quietly, hiding in the shadows as he watched her work. “But your Royal Highness, surely it is not fitting for someone of your stature to discuss economic growth in a democracy? Particularly when the democracy you were brought up in, it was your own family who created such laws?” Isabella’s eyes searched the theatre, her dark chocolate brown eyes narrowed slightly as she found her heckler. “There’s a few things I believe Señor that is important to have corrected - Please do not refer to me in any Royal regard, my name is Isabella Sánchez, so in this class, Ms. Sánchez is appropriate. Secondly, the Kingdom that I lived in may have been presided by a Royal family who were involved heavily in the decision making process, but there was an autonomous government in place to look out for the people… today, that Kingdom does not have said government and is ruled by one group of people - but that is a discussion for your European History classes, not mine…”

Without a blink, the petite brunette continued her presentation and no one else dared interrupt. If they had, Leo would have had their card marked immediately. He could feel her presence in the room, she was as captivating as she was all those years ago. Her posture and demeanour commanded respect even if she was no better than a commoner these days. Each word that she spoke, each syllable uttered, had authority. The former Crown Prince slowly began to smirk as he recalled the many times he and the Laurentian beauty found themselves after an argument in each others arms; Leo even admitted starting the argument just to have Isabella all riled up. Watching her pace from door to door as she spoke in her trademark 4” stiletto heels made Leo feel something; it wasn’t much but something. He was once completely infatuated by this woman; now she was an enigma to him. “Read up on the next few chapters…” Isabella spoke in her thick Laurentian accent that rolled off of her tongue as the lights in the theatre switched on.

Flicking through her notes, Isabella marked where she stopped, closing up her textbooks as the students filed out of the lecture hall; she didn’t notice the figure standing opposite her until he cleared his throat, “I think I prefer how Laurentian politics is governed now, more Cordonian in nature, don’t you think?” The former Crown Princess sucked in her cheeks at the distasteful comment before raising her head. Her almond shaped eyes widened in shock as her gaze met his, “Leo… I…” she stuttered, “What are you doing here?” The tall, sandy haired Cordonian raised his brow, “Surely it should be you answering that question, rather than me…” The Laurentian beauty’s expression softened as her eyes gazed upon the man she loved all her life. His tattooed skin told a story, each etching a different verse of the last eight years. “I needed a job…” Isabella finally cracked, “I’m sorry that’s it’s here…” Leo leaned over the table that separated them both with a mischievous smirk, “It’s rude for guests to just drop in without calling first…”

Closing the gap between them. Isabella didn’t flinch at Leo’s remark, she wasn’t afraid of him; no matter what he had become or what he had done. She wasn’t blind to his newly found reputation but hoped that what they had would keep her safe at least for now. Slowly, the petite brunette closed over the books she had with a smile, placing each one on top of the other. “It’s always good to see you Leo…” the older Rys brother moved to block in the former Crown Princess with a grin, “Have dinner with me…” he darkly chuckled, “Remind you of a little Cordonian hospitality…” Isabella pursed her lips, “I have prior commitments Señor… I must decline…” The sandy haired Cordonian clicked his tongue in annoyance, “What…?” How dare she even assume it was a no. “Bella…” Leo tilted his head to the left slightly until they heard a third voice in the background, “I… I am sorry, I didn’t realise that you were busy Ms. Sánchez…” but before Isabella could reply back, two girls in matching uniforms, their hair braided the exact same way and both looking like a clone of their mother burst through the door.

“Mama!” They happily chirped, “Come on! We’re going to be late for Ice Skating!” Isabella slowly nodded with a wry smile, conscious of her audience, “Sí, mi querida… of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world…” ‘Mama?’ Everything was going so fast for Leo to comprehend what was unfolding in front of him. One of the girls looked up at him, her eyes narrowing as if she knew him from somewhere. They were both carbon copies of their mother, except for their striking hazel eyes and their hair a shade or two lighter. Isabella held them close to her, her arms across their chests as Leo took a step back, “Prior commitment… ah I see…” his gaze returning to the little girl who stared him down, “…well darlin’ enjoy your ice skating…” he began to smile warmly, shoving is hands once again into his pockets as those sea green eyes became lost, free falling almost in dark chocolate, “…We should take a rain check Ms. Sánchez…” As Leo walked away, Natalia pulled on her mother’s arm, “Mama… who was that man?” Isabella slowly rubbed the crown of her daughter’s head for comfort, “I knew him once upon a time mi amor, nothing to worry about…”

Later that evening, Liam found Leo outside with a cigarette, cradling a double measured whiskey. “You seem to be in a better mood…” the younger Rys brother brought his own drink to his lips, waiting for some type of acknowledgement. “I saw her today…” Leo finally spoke before taking another drag. Liam nodded, patiently waiting; not knowing if Leo would even discuss the subject further. “She looked good…” he mumbled, “…had two kids hangin’ off of her… some sorry sap got caught up, y’know?” Liam raised his brow in question, “How old were they?” The former Crown Prince simply shrugged, “Old enough to form sentences? Hell, how the fuck am I meant to know?” Sighing heavily, Liam knew he had to ask, cautiously playing devil’s advocate having known Isabella - it wasn’t in her nature to play around, unlike Leo. “Is there any possibility they could be yours?” but the question aggravated Leo even further, his whole body tightened at the insinuation.

With a clenched jaw, the older Rys brother spat back, “She would have fucking told me! That’s not shit you keep to yourself, Bella told me everything!” Reaching out, Liam patted his brother’s shoulder in comfort as Leo sighed heavily, his sea green eyes finally meeting Liam’s, “They went ice skating…” he finally cracked a very small smile through that cold exterior. Memories that he had pushed to the side for years kept flooding back to him; flashbacks of when he brought the petite brunette ice skating in Lythikos, spending evenings in the ski chalets cuddled up to one another by the fire. As Leo looked toward the distance one more, Liam squeezed his hand that still rested on his brother’s shoulder, “Brother…” he chimed, “You should speak with her… I can do some digging if you wish? Give Amalas a call?” but Leo just shook his head, “No need… Isabella can tell me herself when she’s ready…” he grunted as Liam nodded in acknowledgment. It was the first time in years that Liam had saw Leo have some form of human emotion. He always wanted to be a father, but no woman ever lived up to the unknown expectation of them. A few dates here and there but nothing serious, living up to his playboy persona but underneath it all; no one came close to what he wanted because he only wanted her.

[tessa-liam]

W.I.P. Wednesday

for King Liam Appreciation Week, November 17 - 21

and Marabelle Series, Chapter 20

...here is a sneak peak of the commission I won from @indiacater!🥹 Thank you, again, ...so much! for this gift!😍❣️🌹

I was going to wait until November to share this....but I can't wait an entire month to share ... here is a snippet! 🤷‍♀️ 😉

The Royal Romance, King Liam Rys x Sophie Taylor

@pilitella, you are such a gifted artist!✨️

Thank you for bringing my fantasy 'to life'....this is an incredible gift!🌹

😁the full reveal in November!

[dwiankus]

The S-Tier LI *male edition*

I am proud of my babies

[kristinamae093]

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…”

[superharriet]

And now I miss him so much again... which reminds me that I still haven't finished the final chapter of TRF. I can't. God, the chokehold he has on me... Still, after all these years and all those wasted chapters of TRH when PB could have made him the Alpha, the Fucking King, the Ruler, the Majesty he deserved to be and turned him into a side character. After all these amazing fanfics, where he was shown in all his different shades, with flaws, kinks, anger, passion, duty that often binds him, love above all. Liam. There will never be a fictional man that could compare to him.

"Know that he will want to give you everything. He will love you entirely. That's the way his heart is."

queen eleanor talking about liam 💔

[katedrakeohd]

Heartstopper (Part 1)

This is my entry for King Liam appreciation week 2024. @kingliamappreciationweek

@tessa-liam @sazanes @rafasgirl23415

@lizzybeth1986 @kingliam2019

Klaw Day 2

Character Appreciation/Vanilla

Summary:

It's Coronation night and the unthinkable has happened for the new King of Cordonia as the woman of his dreams gets dragged out of the ballroom.

Cast: the usual TRR gang, with Kate Darling as the MC from New York. In this story the King's name is Nicholas instead of Liam.

Author's note:

Prepare yourself for all the angst and heartbreak as the story is told mostly from the young King's perspective.

Rated: M for Mature - Angst, swearing, violence, bodily harm, car chase, fluff

-__-----_👑_-----__-

The crowded ballroom was filled with a cacophony of sound, but Nicholas tuned it all out. At the back of the room, the love of his life, Kate Darling, was being dragged away by his own security guards. Her face was twisted in a look of shock and betrayal as their eyes met. He mouthed a silent, Kate, as the crowd poured into the space where she had once stood. His eyes frantically searched for her, but she was gone.

Next to him on the stage Madeleine stood with a perfectly crafted fake smile on her face. He was still holding her hand, because he had just named her as his choice as Queen. Her name had left a sour taste in his mouth, and he felt queasy. A cold sweat bloomed on his upper lip, and he lifted his other hand to his mouth to wipe it.

"Nicholas?.. Nicholas?..."she said behind her clenched white teeth, "Say something."

She curled her fingernails into his palm to get his attention and he recoiled, dropping her hand.

He raised his hands up in an attempt to appease the uproar of the people as the wave of sound finally enveloped him like a tide. "Please! Please Everyone! If you could direct your attention this way." He raised his voice and the heads started to turn and the crowd began to still.

"Thank-you." He stepped closer to Madeleine and tucked his forearm stiffly behind her back to draw her to him. He looked at Madeleine and then turned back to the crowd and forced a happy smile onto his face.

"Please allow me to present her Royal Highness, Queen Madeleine Amaranth."

The crowd of strangers erupted into applause, their faces beaming with pride for their new King and Queen.

As he held his smile in place, his stepmother Regina walked over to stand at his other side. She grasped his hand, and he squeezed back tightly, making her wince. "Where are they taking her?"

Regina waved to the crowd and then leaned in to answer. "They're sending that insufferable slut back to New York, where she belongs."

"Over my dead body," he grounded back angrily and dropped her hand. He took a step back and with a quick salute to the crowd he slipped through the curtains and then out the door to the balcony.

The warm Mediterranean air smelled much sweeter than all the sweaty heavily perfumed party goers crowded into the ballroom. Not that he didn't wear cologne himself, but he missed the sweet scent of Kate's vanilla perfume most. He took a deep breath and then pulled out his mobile phone. Below the balcony there was a sea of paparazzi photographers and reporters with news cameras and microphones. When they saw him, their shouted appeals for his attention overlapped like squabbling water fowl. He turned away from the camera flashes and the video spotlights to stand in the sliver of shadow next to the building. He tore a small hanging flower pot off the wall and used it to smash out the bulbs of the light sconces by the doors. This gave him a little more darkness and he heaved a deep sigh to calm himself as he dialed Bastien, his head of security.

Bastien picked up on the second ring, "Yes, Sire? How may I be of service?"

The relative calm in the guards voice made Nicholas lose his own. "..be of service?! What the fuck, Bastien? We never agreed to have her dragged out like a criminal."

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"What happened to quietly escorting her out after the gala was over? And where are Drake and the Beaumont Brothers?"

Bastien broke away to talk to someone else briefly and then returned, "As per your Father's request the Beaumonts and Mr. Walker have also been removed and detained..."

Nicholas interrupted, "Detained? But why? They're hardly threats to anyone."

Bastien calmly replied,"I was just doing as I was told, Sir. But as for Mr. Walker, he is no longer in custody."

Nicholas chuckled, "Of course he isn't. Let me guess, he hit you."

"Not me, Sir. But one of the junior cadets now has a sprained wrist and a broken nose."

"Good, tell him he's fired."

Nicholas hung up and then went to the far corner of the balcony to catch a glimpse of the black line up of fleet vehicles by the gate. Only one had it's engine running. He used his phone to take a picture of it, zooming in on the serial number badge on the back window. 725

He dialed Drake, hoping he was nearby.

A few agonizing seconds of dial tone tone later, Drake answered. He sounded slightly winded as if he was running. "Nic?! ..what the fuck? This is not a good time. .. I'm being chased by one of Bastien's minions."

"Hold on.." Nicholas hung up and then sent an angry text to his head of security.

HRH : Tell your god damned attack dog to stand down and let Drake go.

Nicholas looked back toward the gate. He saw a pair of guards forcefully trying to escort a woman in blue toward the waiting SUV. Kate was putting up the fight of her life. Bless her heart.

His heart sank as he saw one of the guards slap her hard across the face. She went limp in the other guard's arms.

Nicholas's phone started ringing. It was Drake. He kept his eyes on the guards as they shoved her bodily into the back of the SUV. He answered the call.

"Talk to me."

Drake was clearly out of breath, he struggled to put his sentence together. "I ..*huff*..gue..guess ..*huff* I lost him."

"Good, where are you?"

Drake was a little more composed as he replied, "I .. I'm heading toward the service ...entrance by the East Courtyard. I can see a crowd of reporters waiting outside."

Nicholas nodded his approval, "Good, that's right below me. I'll distract them so you can get through."

Drake stopped at the door, "Where do you need me to go?"

Nicholas walked back to the right and closer to the balcony railing. "They're trying to send her back to America, Drake. I just saw some guards shove Kate into the back of an SUV."

"Those bastards! Where, what SUV?" Drake spat back angrily.

"Number 725, over by the gate, and hurry I think they're leaving."

"On it. Just get these paps outta my way. Are you giving me permission to use whatever methods I want."

"Affirmative, BFI is now in effect. Good luck."

Nicholas reached the railing, and as predicted, the reporters followed. A flood of flashing camera light and a chorus of demands met him as he casually leaned on the railing. He ignored their questions and struck up a casual conversation with them instead, determined to take their attention off Drake so he could get away.

"Good Evening everyone. Lovely weather we're having tonight for the Coronation..."

Drake pushed the door open and elbowed his way through the crowd. "Excuse me...pardon me...move! ..Hey, look over that way. The King is doing interviews.."

He stomped through the garden bushes on the edge of the courtyard, taking a short cut to the gate. There were four black SUVs parked by the curb, but none of them had drivers. 725 had already left.

Drake presumed that the airport was the destination, but with the extra traffic in the city tonight clogging the roads because of the gala they shouldn't be too far ahead. On the other side of the gateyard civilian and diplomat cars were parked and waiting. A silver sedan had it's engine running and a chauffeur behind the wheel. Bingo

He looked left and right to check for moving vehicles and then cut across the gravel to the sedan. He knocked on the window and the startled driver looked up from his phone. He buzzed the window down. "Uh, Hello? Is the gala over already?"

Drake shook his head, leaning heavily on the door so he could look the driver in the eye. "No, but I need a ride."

The driver looked over at Drake's large hands as they gripped the door frame. He visibly swallowed. "I'm s..sorry Sir, but I'm here for the ambassador." He glanced down at the phone in his lap and then back at Drake. He started tapping out a message.

"Nope, I wasn't asking."

Drake reached in the window and grabbed the guy's phone out of his hands and threw it like a frisbee off into the bushes. "Go fetch."

The driver protested, "Hey!" And then reached for the door handle to open the door. Drake stepped out of his way and then jumped into the driver's seat. He slammed the door shut and locked it, and then threw the shifter into drive.

Gravel sprayed up from the tires as the Audi dug in deep with its four wheel drive. He tugged the seatbelt across and clicked it into place as he shot through the open gate. He glanced to his left and right quickly to check for impending collisions and then cranked the wheel hard to the left and fishtailed into the line of traffic. He wiped the trickle of sweat off his brow and quickly assessed the road ahead. He eased off the gas and slowed down a little, searching for an opening to weave into. A car up ahead signaled and then changed lanes to turn left. He pulled into the left turning lane and then cut sharply to the right to squeeze into the gap. A chorus of honks protested this move and he shrugged, bite me. As the line of traffic rolled up to a red light, he shifted into Park and struggled his way out of his suit jacket. His phone slipped out of his pocket as his coat got turned inside out and tossed on the passenger seat. His phone rang from where it had landed on the floor as the line of traffic moved again. He shook his head nope and shifted back into Drive.

Nicholas held court with the reporters for about five minutes, just long enough to see the silver sedan exit the gate in a hurry. With a smile he waved goodbye to the reporters and then went back inside the Palace.

The gala was in full swing as if he hadn't left. Music was playing and people were dancing. Everyone else mingled and drank his champagne. He didn't feel like partying. He meandered through the throng of dancers and drinkers. Some of them stopped him long enough to shake his hand. He graciously accepted their congratulations and then moved on. He finally made it to the double doors at the back of the ballroom and the security guards held people back as he passed. He nodded his thanks and then headed for the wood paneled "door" beside the suit of armor in the hallway. It looked like any other carved alcove like all the others, but this one led to his own private elevator. He pressed his thumb print on the scanner hidden inside the shiny button. A vibration signaled that his thumb was read correctly and the panel opened. He stepped in and then pushed the arrow up button. The door slid closed and he sagged back against the wall. He hoped that Drake was successful and got to Kate in time.

Drake crept forward with the traffic, whipping out into the left turning lane to leap frog whenever he could. He wasn't sure how effective this method was, but at least it alleviated the tedium of stop and go traffic. He kept scanning the line of traffic up ahead for the telltale high roofline of the royal fleet SUV. So far no such luck. The exit for the airport was coming up soon, about a kilometre away. Hopefully that route wasn't as crowded as this one.

In the backseat of 725, Kate Darling was lying down with her eyes closed. She wasn't asleep, but listening instead to the two guards arguing in the front seat.

"I told you, we should have taken the turn onto Spencer Avenue. We'd be closer to the airport by now," the guard on the right complained.

"And I told you not to smack the girl around. If that hit gets leaked back at the Palace we're screwed."

The guy on the right shrugged, "Who's she gonna tell? She'll be on a flight back to America within the hour."

Kate touched her sore cheek. There was going to be a big bruise there soon, and it was going to speak for itself. The thought of going back home to America made her want to cry. She had left her old life behind four months ago, and didn't want to go back. She felt the SUV swing hard to the left, and held onto the seat to stop herself from tumbling onto the floor. The vehicle sped forward and Kate's stomach lurched with panic. If they had turned onto another road, it most likely meant that the airport wasn't far away. She had to do something.

Drake saw the turn off for the airport coming up on his left, he signaled and went into the left turning lane. After turning left he took the onramp that swung around to cross over the boulevard that he'd just been on. This road had a faster speed limit and the traffic had thinned out considerably. He leaned into the gas pedal and sped up to make it into the flow of traffic. Now he could definitely catch up. He just hoped he wasn't too far behind.

Kate sat up, and the pain in her head throbbed. He had evidently hit her harder than she thought. She caught the driver's gaze in the rearview mirror and he jumped in surprise. "Oh shit, Cinderella is awake." He smiled uneasily.

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Don't call me that. I have a proper name you know."

The guard on the right turned to look back at her, "It's the color of your dress. It reminds him of Cinderella."

Kate looked down at her dress, "Oh right. I'm Kate by the way. And when Nicholas gets a hold of you two, you'll wish you'd never been born."

The driver scoffed, "We're not afraid of him."

Kate quirked her eyebrow and smirked, she pointed to her swollen cheek. "And when Drake sees this and finds out who you are, you're gonna beg for mercy."

The guy on the right scoffed, "Drake who?"

Kate laughed, but then winced in pain, instantly regretting it, "Oh, He's just the King's best friend and my personal bodyguard. And when I say he takes any harm done to me personally I'm not exaggerating."

The guards up front went quiet, and Kate slid over in her seat and buckled up. This was going to hurt, but it was time to put her plan into action. The doors were all locked because they were traveling forward, but she knew that in the event of an accident that the locks would disengage. She crossed one leg over the other and removed her high heeled shoe. The guards up front weren't paying attention to her anymore. She looked out the darkly tinted window and noticed it was starting to rain. It was go time.

"Hey!" She shouted, and got the startled reaction from the driver that she was expecting. He looked over his shoulder at her and in the process jerked the wheel to the right, at the same time she launched her high heel at his face and it lodged into his eye. He screamed in pain and his hands flew up off the steering wheel, "You Bitch!"

Kate braced herself as the car swung wildly from left to right, and then she heard the tires crunch onto the right hand gravel. A split second later the SUV started to roll and she hugged herself and prayed that the airbags would catch her.

[lorirwritesfanfic]

Chris Hemsworth as King Liam Rys

Disclaimers:

This character profile was created specifically to fit King Liam on Liam and Jade's Love Story universe. I unfortunately don't own the character, I don't assume to know everything about him and I have no intention to affirm this is exactly who he is and how other people should write him. I'm merely a hardcore enthusiast of this lovely character and I do my best to keep his essence while adding a few headcanons of my own;

Though I mostly write canon compliant fics in L&JLS, Lena isn't included in this character profile because I haven't played TRF and I personally don't know how relevant she would be for the series.

Name: Liam Rys

Nationality: Cordonian

Birthdate: January 10, 1990

Hometown: Cordonian capital

Current Residence: Cordonian capital / Duchy of Valtoria, Cordonia

Occupation: Politician, Head of State of Cordonia

Titles: His Royal Majesty of Cordonia, Colonel-in-Chief of Cordonian Army, Duke of Valtoria, Patron of the University of Cordonia, Patron of the National Museum of Cordonia, Patron of the National Library of Cordonia

Talents/Skills: Combat training, empathy, leadership, musicality, negotiation, perceptiviness, public speaking, self-defense, strategic thinking, survival skills, sword fighting, teaching, writing.

Parents: Constantine Rys and Eleanor Rys (both deceased)

Siblings: Leo Rys

Spouse: Jade Isabel Bourbon-Rys

Children: Elise Valentina Bourbon-Rys, Louis Philipe Bourbon-Rys, Sophie Eleanor Bourbon-Rys

Closest relatives: Regina Rys (stepmother), Ava Mei Tsui-Rys (niece), Emma Zhen Tsui-Rys (niece), Daphne Wang-Foredale (fourth cousin)

Background: Second son of King Constantine Rys and Queen Eleanor Rys, Liam is a kind-hearted, polite and sophisticated man with impressive diplomatic skills. Though he wasn't raised to be king, he was prepared from a very young age to serve the Cordonian Crown taking etiquette lessons, politics, philosophy, learning different languages (aside from English, he's fluent in Greek, Spanish, French and Italian) and even dancing and survival skills. While growing up, he was a free-spirited kid and had more opportunities to enjoy his childhood with his friends and the Walker family than his older brother.

After his mother's tragic passing, Liam became a reserved person, taking his role in the Royal family more seriously. With time, Liam grew apart from Drake (who left to the US to go to college) and joined the Royal Air Force to please his father. A few months after, the Royal family suffered an assassination attempt. Liam developed signs of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, avoiding social interactions, having trouble sleeping, being easily frightened/startled and showing some physical symptoms of panick (sweating, nausea, trembling). Leo asked Drake to return to the palace to help Liam, both encouraging the young prince to seek therapy.

As he got better, Liam enrolled in the University of Cordonia to study History and returned to the Royal Air Force. Liam had plans to follow an academic career when Leo abdicated the throne. After Liam got his major degree, he was formally introduced as the Crown Prince and officially prepared to rule the Kingdom. Though it was a drastic change of path in his life that required many sacrifices, Liam adjusted to the life of future monarch quite fast, undeniably enjoying the perks of using the many skills he had developed over the years to make a difference as a politician.

What's his family like?

Constantine wasn't a present parent, nor a father who easily showed affection towards his sons. Liam was mostly raised by his mother and a few nanies and tutors. Eleanor constantly talked about the importance of Constantine's role as king and father not just for their family but for the entire country, which is why Liam always looked up to his father.

Eleanor was a loving mother to him and his brother, but also disciplined them when necessary. She shared her love for reading, writing and History with Liam. Her passing had an enormous impact on Liam's life and personality. He still misses her dearly and visits her whenever he can. He always takes a bouquet of jasmines to her grave on Mother's day and on her birthday.

Being six years younger than Leo, the brothers always had divergences, often teasing each other, Leo and Liam played pranks that usually led to getting both of the. in trouble while growing up. Yet, Leo always knew Liam was a better fit for the Crown and has always been a protective of his baby brother, taking the blame for himself whenever Liam did something wrong, defending his brother from malicious comments and insults, helping him during his first months as Crown Prince and teaching him self-defense and mixed martial arts. Liam looks up to his brother and fully supports the lifepath and choices his older brother makes.

Regina entered the Royal family a few years after Eleanor's passing. Despite her usual commanding presence towards her stepsons, she cares for them deeply. Liam has great respect and fondness towards Regina.

Liam doesn't have a long list of relatives he's truly close to. The only exception are the Foredales, specially Lady Daphne.

Favourite childhood memory: Playing with Drake and Maxwell around the palace, trips to the Walkers ranch and summers at Applewood Manor.

Nicknames: He didn't use to have nicknames while growing up, but he loves all the petnames Jade has given him.

Astrology sign: Capricorn sun, Libra rising, Scorpio moon

Hobbies: reading, horse riding, sailing, playing guitar, singing, writing

Top 5 songs:

The Seasons, op. 37a: VI. June "Barcarolle" - Piotr Ilitch Tchaikovski

Requiem: Lacrimosa - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Bachianas Brasileiras n°1 - Heitor Villa Lobos

And I Love Her - Beatles

Wonderful Tonight - Eric Clapton

Favorite books:

The Metamorphosis - Franz Kafka

Dubliners - James Joyce

Hamlet - William Shakespeare

Charneca em Flor - Florbela Espanca

Jane Eyre - Emily Brontë

Favorite movies:

Star Trek (1979)

Matrix (1999)

The Lord of Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2011) [he likes all the LOTR saga, but the first one is his favorite]

Black Swan (2010)

Lion (2016)

Favorite TV shows: Liam enjoys watching anything that gets his mind out of his life. He grew up watching The X-Files and Firefly with Drake and Maxwell. A friend introduced him to Death Note during his teenhood and it blew him away. Nowadays, he likes watching Stranger Things and Arcane by himself, but he often watches comedies like Friends and Parks and Recreation with Jade.

Biggest guilty pleasure: he's getting addicted to watching videos of people building things from scratch like furniture, houses or doing crafts. In any spare time he has, he will watch people building furniture out of bamboo, small cabins in the woods and intricate craftsmanship like jewelry design, intarsia and pastry sculpture.

Sweet or savoury? Sweet.

Favorite food: Baklava, chicken tagine, apple pie, any sort of pasta.

Favourite drinks: coffee (the stronger, the better), vanilla milkshake, wine, scotch.

Most treasured possessions:

A Lion Cross Royal Crown designed for his thirtieth birthday;

A small double bladed dagger that belonged to his ancestor Queen Kenna Rys;

Photo albums with many pictures of his family and friends

A Statue of Liberty keychain given by his wife on his coronation night;

Jade cufflinks given by his wife during the trip to China;

His wedding band;

His children's baby teeth (the kids find it gross, but Jade and him proudly keep them in the family safe).

Close Friends: Drake Walker, Maxwell Beaumont, Hana Lee, Bertrand Beaumont, Leo Rys

Goals for the future: Liam has many goals for Cordonia such as bringing back economic stability to the country, hosting big events that will increase tourism, supporting projects involving environmental sustainability, arts, culture and philanthropy, etc. But in his personal life, he simply wants to travel around the world with Jade, watch his children grow and spend as much time as he can with his loved ones.

Dog lover or cat lover?

Dog lover. He loves strolling with the family corgis. But he also likes Jade's cats and encourages his kids to have any domestic animals as long as they actually take care of them.

Early bird or night owl?

Early bird. But he can't deny he loves late nights with his wife.

How does he relax after a bad day?

It depends gon how bad the day was. On a not so bad day, half an hour listening to music (he has a soothing playlist on Spotify) when he needs to slow down will do. He goes horse riding or walking when he needs to clear his head. But on really tough days, he'll go to the gym to practice any sort of martial arts. Muay Thai and Krav Maga are his favorites.

Personality: INFJ-T (Turbulent Advocate)

Idealistic and principled, people with the INFJ personality type (Advocates) aren’t content to coast through life – they want to stand up and make a difference. For these compassionate personalities, success doesn’t come from money or status but from seeking fulfillment, helping others, and being a force for good in the world.

Thoughtful and often selfless, INFJ personalities pour a great deal of energy and care into their relationships, but this doesn’t mean that they always feel appreciated in return. People with this personality type tend to slow down and really evaluate how what they do might impact others before they take action. Consequently, it can frustrate them when other people don’t recognize their good intentions. INFJs are very sensitive to criticism of any kind and can take things very personally. A few close relationships, provided that they’re genuine, can fill INFJs’ hearts to the brim.

One random headcanon: Liam joined the Cordonian Royal Air Force when he was nineteen. He was progressively rising on RAF ranks (he reached Flight Lieutenant rank) and was in his third year studying History when Leo abdicated the throne. He still pilots helicopters and small planes from time to time, but since he doesn't fly often, he has never piloted any aircraft with his children in it. He took Jade a few times when they were newlyweds (it involved a lot of begging and persuasion on her part), but there was always an aircraft pilot team on board just in case.

[karahalloway]

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 16 - Snakes in the Garden

Fandom: TRR

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

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Harper greets the world as the new Duchess of Valtoria, but that is not the only newsworthy item that rocks the Apple Harvest Festival...

Word Count: 7,300

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, angst, possible ulterior motives)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: Things are slowly coming to a head! Thanks for bearing with me on this series - I know I have a lot of other projects in the works, so I have not been updating as much as I probably should. But, we are finally getting to the exciting parts (as if what's happened until now hasn't been exciting 🤣) as after this chapter, we are into the meat of the engagement tour, and all the juicy plot changes that I have been wanting to write for over a year will finally come to a fore! *evil laugh*

A/N2: If you have not heard of TURN - the TV show from which I borrowed the chapter theme song - then, I can highly recommend it (especially if you like historical dramas, US history (specifically the Revolutionary War period), or just really good story-telling)!

A/N3: This is also much submission for @choicesjanuary2024 Day 12: Smiles / Secret

Chapter 16 - Snakes in the Garden

"Are you sure I look okay?" I ask, nervously pulling at the high-necked strip of emerald lace that circles my throat.

"Stop fiddling!" Bertrand berates, slapping my hand away. "We are running late as it, and we cannot afford to lose any more time to last minute touch-ups!"

"Yeah, but—"

"You look great, Harper," Maxwell assures me with a beaming smile. "Marcie did a great job."

The petite make-up artist that the Beaumonts had procured out of thin air bobs a curtsy to my right. "It was my pleasure, Your Grace."

Her words hit me like a whiplash.

Your Grace.

My new form of address. One I'm not sure I'm ever going to get used to. Lady Harper had been one thing, but that had always felt like a curtesy. A temporary formality that had been extended to me by virtue of my sponsorship by the Beaumonts during the social season.

But there is nothing temporary about my current situation. The weight of the ring on my hand — and its implications — bears down heavily on my finger... and my thoughts. Especially since I still haven't found a moment alone with Drake to finish our conversation from this morning... or bring him up to speed on my new status.

Because no sooner had my ennoblement been sealed with the very expensive — and very potent — champagne, than the Beaumonts had shown back up (somewhat mercifully) to crash Christian's surprise party.

And from there it had been a whirlwind of hair, makeup and outfitting for the all-important Apple Harvest Festival where I am due to make my grand debut as the new Duchess of Valtoria.

A position of some importance — Bertrand has stressed, multiple times — given that in addition to the impressive estate that I am now the official caretaker of, I also have a seat on the infamous Council, as well as a seat on the even more exclusive Privy Council. Not to mention my own fleet of staff, vehicles, bank accounts, and carefully curated online profiles.

Which is why — on top of everything — the ever-industrious press corps have worked at record speed to throw the fruits of yesterday's labours together into an exclusive, twelve-page spread as part of a special edition of Trend magazine, which dropped this morning.

And while I haven't actually had a chance to read through the copy that currently sits on the coffee table of my room (together with every other major national and international news publication), Maxwell has assured me that the social media reactions have — so far — been positive. The snaps of my stress-fuelled efforts at yesterday's apple pick have apparently helped.

Which means that Jonathan's PR gamble is starting to pay dividends, and I now have a public image to maintain. Not just for myself, but for Cordonia as well. Because when I step outside today, I'll be representing everything that the kingdom under Christian's burgeoning rule is striving to be — beauty, modernity, opportunity.

Definitely not the best day to wake up with a litany of awkwardly situated bruises!

Thankfully, both Maxwell and Bertrand seem to have had a chance to pull themselves together after this morning's surprising (and definitely explosive!) turn of events, and — after the initial shock — have set about covering for mine and Drake's mess with the same coordinated precision that they employed to pull the Beaumont Bash out of their butts.

With the result that they somehow managed to transform me from the black and blue disaster I woke up as, into the picture of a polished and refined lady.

I glance apprehensively out at the bright sunshine blanketing the hills. Hopefully, the carefully applied window-dressing survives the literal trial by fire it's about to be subjected to. Because just like yesterday, the temperature is set to climb into the mid-90's today as well, which means I'll most likely end up sweating buckets again, thanks to the Edwardian nature of my dress's neckline.

And what I definitely don't need today is for all the blush and cover-up getting smudged away so that everyone at the event can start speculating about the intimate placement of my of hickeys!

I close my eyes wearily. God, I can't wait for all this to be over...

"No catnaps!" snaps Bertrand, slapping a wide-brimmed hat onto my head. "The people are waiting on us!"

I barely have time to grab my matching clutch before the Beaumonts are whisking me out of my room and down the length of the corridor towards the manor's lawn.

"Surely the Festival can start without us...!" I gasp as I stumble after Bertrand in my heels.

"No, it cannot," he reprimands. "All members of the Council must be present for the ceremonial tree planting."

I frown. "Tree planting? Isn't that a little... agrarian for the aristos?"

"It is a time-honoured tradition!" corrects Bertrand. "Cordonia owes its existence and livelihood to the noble Ruby, so it is the duty of the Council to ensure that the fruits of our bounty are secured for future generations! Hence, the requirement to plant new saplings at the end of each harvest!"

"If you say so..." I concede as we pass through the back doors of the manor.

Based on what I saw at the apple pick, Bertrand's pronouncement seems optimistic at best, given that none of the aristos even bothered to lift a finger to a tree yesterday.

But, looks can always be deceiving, so maybe today is the day that the I am pleasantly surprised for once.

A deafening cheer erupts as the Beaumonts and I step out onto the manor's steps.

Snapping my head towards the source of the commotion, I see what appears to be thousands of people crammed behind velvet-lined cordons, screaming and jostling for position like they're in the front row of a Taylor Swift concert...

...and it takes me a second to realise that it's my name that they're shouting.

"Duchess!"

"Lady Harper, we love you!"

"You're the true Apple Queen, no matter what anyone says!"

"Wow..." I blink, taken aback by the fervency of the crowd's reaction. "I didn't realise I had such a rabid following..."

"Best wave to them," suggests Maxwell, leaning in as he raises his arm into the air with a wide smile.

"Okay..." I concede hesitantly, turning to the crowd to do the same.

The last time I experienced anything remotely like this had been on the red carpet at the Derby — my first public outing as a suitor. But even the bright flash of the cameras and the intrusive questions that the reporters had flung at me paled in comparison to the reaction I am receiving today.

Phones and cameras are thrust into the air as the Beaumonts and I descend the manor's stairs to the accompaniment of the increasingly frenzied cheers and shouts of encouragement. Even a few bouquets of flowers fly through the air, narrowly missing my hat.

And I can't help but smile in the face of the genuine outpouring of support from the crowd. Because it sure as heck feels good to be on top for once!

However, arriving at the edge of the orchard where the tree planting ceremony is due to take place, I am greeted by a very different type of welcome.

Snooty expressions drip down the ends of aristocratic noses as the members of the Council pass silent judgment on my somewhat bombastic entrance.

"They're just jealous," Maxwell whispers to me as we take up our spots at the edge of the gathering.

"Yeah..." I agree with a stilted voice. "That's what I'm worried about."

I know firsthand of the lengths that these people are willing to go to in order to exact vengeance for perceived slights. And I did not particularly feel like painting a target on my back a second time while I am still trying to recover from the hurt caused by the first.

Maybe this is a mistake...

But I don't have time to think on it long, because the public erupts into an even more deafening outburst as Christian appears with Madeleine on his arm.

"Look at her..." snips a voice from behind me. "Acting like she's Queen already."

I whip around in disbelief. "Olivia!"

The Duchess of Lythikos cuts her green eyes over at me with a derisive look. "Oh, don't look so surprised, Harper. Just because you are now a duchess, does not mean that the rest of us have taken early retirement."

"Trust me," I grumble under my breath, "this was not the plan."

"Opportunities multiply as they are seized," she replies sagely.

I quirk a brow at her. "Meaning?"

"Meaning," she expounds surly, "opportunity breeds opportunity. And only by exploiting every advantage will you uncover previously hidden gains. Do they not teach The Art of War inyour schools?"

"No..."

She scoffs under her breath. "Explains a lot."

I roll my eyes at her as Christian and Madeleine pause on the steps for photos and a couple of quick sound bites. "I guess this means your sabbatical was productive?"

"Exceedingly."

I heave a breath. "At least one of us is making progress..."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short," she counters out of the corner of her mouth. "Your recent advancements have served as a welcome distraction..."

"Not sure if that’s a compliment, or not..." I admit sourly.

"You have more power than you realise," she insists quietly. "Make sure you use it."

"Wow..." I mutter, glancing over at her in genuine surprise. "Friendly advice from the Scarlet Duchess? What else have you learnt during your time away?"

"Our interests are temporarily aligned, nothing more," she replies, shooting daggers across the lawn towards Madeleine. "And I'll fill you in shortly."

"Well, it's good to have you back, regardless," I say with a dip of my head. "Your Grace."

Olivia shoots me a sidelong look. "Don't get sentimental on me, Duchess."

But I can see the hint of a smile pulling at her lips.

Christian and Madeleine arrive at the edge of the trees. Stepping up to the row of waiting saplings, Christian pulls a stack of notecards out of his pocket and delivers a short speech to the click of the cameras.

As the mandatory applause dies down, he slots the pieces of paper carefully away... and pulls off his jacket.

"What are you doing?" hisses Madeleine as the crowd descends into a hubbub of excited reactions.

"Taking a leaf out of the Duchess of Valtoria's book," he replies, handing his jacket off to the closest shocked Councillor as he sets about rolling up his sleeves.

"Out of—!" Madeleine bristles in indignation, while trying to maintain an outwardly calm composure. "The only thing you have taken is leave of your senses! Now get back here and—!"

Ignoring his fiancée's outburst, Christian grabs the ribbon-bedecked shovel out of the hands of the footman that was holding it, and steps up to a clear patch of grass. Adjusting his grip on the handle, he digs the metal blade decisively into the ground to the accompanying slew of clicking camera shutters.

"Shall we?" asks Olivia with a sly smirk as she pushes her way to the front of the line of gawping nobles.

"Let's," I agree, instantly catching onto her plan.

"Lady Harper!" hisses Bertrand from behind me. "What do you think you're—?"

"Lending a hand to the King," I throw back over my shoulder as I step to the front of the row of aristos who are looking mutely onto the sight of their monarch working up an actual sweat before them.

Grabbing another shovel from the pile in the corner — these ones obviously having seen some honest work already, judging by the dirt encrusted on their faces — I join the King of Cordonia in enlarging the hole in the ground.

Because regardless of Christian's underlying motives for ennobling me, and whatever his broader game may be, what he is doing right now is bigger than me, bigger than him, bigger than any of us. And that deserves recognition. Especially when he is taking such active — and public — strides towards being the change he wants to see unfurl during his rule. Where the ruling class doesn't just offer empty platitudes and hollow ceremony, but actually practices what it preaches. So, what better way to do that, than by planting the seeds of change in front of thousands of people in the literal heart of the kingdom?

Christian rewards my arrival with a nod and a smile as I take up position next to him.

Hefting my shovel, I slice it into the earth that he's already uncovered, using the somewhat flimsy sole of my heeled sandals to drive it deeper.

Scooping the blade back out, I suddenly feel a presence to my left. Looking up, I see that Maxwell has also joined our impromptu work crew.

Throwing me a wink, he drops his shovel in next to mine.

With the three of us working on tandem, it takes us almost no time at all to dig out a hole large enough to house the new apple tree.

Wiping the sweat from my forehead — the weatherman had not lied, that's for sure! — I see that Olivia, with some assistance from Hana, has already prepared the sapling by shunting it closer to the hole and removing the burlap covering from its roots.

Laying down our shovels, we help her manoeuvre the tree to the edge of the dint. Cheers and applause rise up from the onlookers as the sapling thuds into the earth. Olivia uses one of the knives from her hidden arsenal to slice off the twines holding the branches together, and the tree unfurls itself with a satisfied snap.

"Your Majesty!" shouts a reporter, who I recognise as Frederick Capone. "One for the Cordonian Times, if you please!"

"And for the CBS!" adds Donald Brine, muscling his way to the front.

"Certainly," accedes Christian graciously, holding his arm out. "It was a group effort, after all."

We all gather in — sweaty and dirty, but smiling — as the press corps immortalises the scene...

...and I innocuously sweep my hair over my shoulder in a vain effort to try and hide any bruises that may have become uncovered as a result of the unplanned exertion.

"Thank you for joining me in my moment of impulsivity," Christian acknowledges softly as the bulbs flash.

"Please," scoffs Olivia out of the side of her mouth. "It was coordinated from the start."

"The people don't seem to mind," counters Hana with a demure smile as she faces the cameras.

"With the exception of about half-dozen," I note, glancing back at the disgruntled looks of the Councillors from behind us, as they try to save face by applauding our efforts together with the rest of the crowd.

"They'll fall in line." Christian assures me as he lifts his hand with a wave.

I feel a prick between my shoulder blades. Turning my head, I catch sight of the cold fire radiating out of Madeleine's gaze from behind the mask of her perfect smile.

"Maybe not everyone..." I mutter under my breath as I turn back towards the paps.

I'm already on Madeleine's shit list for daring to return to court after my very public humiliation and banishment. On the night of her engagement tour launch party, no less! So, the fact that I ended up upstaging her — again — probably means that I've sunk even further down the ladder of her estimations.

To what end, I have no idea. But I'm going to have to start being more careful from here on out.

Once the press are finally placated, we disperse across the lawn in search of some much-needed refreshments.

"Harper!"

I swallow a groan as I'm brought up short, mere steps from the freshly squeezed, rosemary-infused lemonade that I desperately need after toiling away in this heat. "What now, Bertrand...?"

"I... uhm..." He clears his throat as I turn to face him. "I wanted to apologise for my earlier outburst. It was unseemly... and in retrospect, short-sighted."

"What do you mean?" I ask with a frown. Bertrand very rarely — if ever! — apologised.

"The public reaction to the tree planting has been overwhelming," he clarifies, pulling his phone out.

My eyes bulge as I take in the view count on the screen. "A hundred thousand views already!"

"And counting," Bertrand adds. "And that is only one website."

"And look at the comments!" I exclaim, scrolling through the feed. "They're loving Maxwell as well!"

"Yes, it appears that my brother has a keener instinct for media relations than I do..."

"You should tell him that," I say. "It would mean the world to him."

Bertrand looks momentarily taken aback. "I... Well..." He clears his throat again. "Yes. Maybe I will. He deserves some recognition for his efforts in diverting — at least temporarily — the negative attention away from our financial predicaments."

"A simple hug and a 'thank-you' will do," I tell him with a knowing look.

Bertrand reels back in abject horror. "I will not subject my brother to such a sordid display of affection! Especially in public!"

I heave a sigh. "And there's your problem, right th—"

I trail off as I spot a familiar figure signalling to me from over Bertrand's shoulders.

"Excuse me," I say, palming Bertrand's phone back to him as I move towards one of the marquees that had been set up at the edge of the lawn.

Slipping inside the flap of the tent, I come face-to-face with Ana de Luca.

"Your Grace," she nods, dipping into a curtesy, something she hasn't deigned to do before. "Thank you for making the time."

"Ana," I nod in return, wondering why the influential editor of Trend chose to pull me away for a private meeting. Especially after I cornered her so forcefully at Madeleine's garden party a few days ago.

"I suppose congratulations are in order," she continues, straightening back up. "Since returning to court you have managed to elevate yourself not just in rank, but in the eyes of the public as well. Rolling your sleeves up in tandem with the King was a masterful piece of image enhancement."

"I didn't do it for myself," I reply evenly.

"Of course," she nods quickly. "We must all step in line with our new King. But your reputation is certainly reaping the benefits as well."

"As is your bottom line," I point out.

"Your initiative is markedly boosting sales of this month's special edition, as well as traffic to our website," she concedes. "For which Trend is very grateful. But that is not the reason I pulled you aside."

"What is it then?"

"I found out the name of the photographer," she replies, reaching into her handbag.

I feel my heart jump in my chest. "You're joking..."

She raises a brow at me from behind the lenses of her black-out Versace shades as she pulls a small flash-drive out. "I can assure you that I am not."

I quickly pull myself back together. "No. Of course not..."

Handing the drive over, she adds. "On there you will find all the pertinent information I was able to obtain through my own means."

"Thank you," I say sincerely, taking the piece of plastic from her. "I honestly was not expecting this..."

She shrugs an elegant shoulder. "I said I would look into it, so I did. It is not much, but I am sure you have people who can hopefully take it further."

"I do," I affirm, slotting the device into my clutch.

"After all," she adds with a knowing quirk to her lips. "You are not the only one with a vested interest in seeing your name cleared, Your Grace."

With another quick bob, she exits the marquee.

I let out a low exhale as the tent flap drops back into place in her wake. "Thank God..."

Some much-needed progress at last!

Hopefully, Drake can take the information from the drive and do a deep dive into the photographer to see if they ever crossed paths with whoever it is that has it in for me.

Which reminds me...

Opening my clutch up again, I pull my phone out and type up a quick message to my elusive boyfriend.

I haven't seen or heard from him since the event started. And now I have two pieces of critical information I need to share with him. So, rather than chasing after him like some damsel in distress, I'm going to make him come to me for a change. Because time is of the essence, and I don't want to wait.

Hitting send, I exit the tent and head back towards the orchard. I figure that since everyone is on the lawn, the secluded garden hidden amongst the trees will give me and Drake the best chance to meet in private, away from the prying eyes of the court and the press.

Slipping between the tree trunks, I try to make my way as casually as possible through the orchard, as if I am simply out for a walk, in order to ward off potential suspicion. But, as I drift further away from the Festival, I start to pick up the pace, mindful of the short timeframe I gave Drake... as well as the exposed roots on the ground.

Because as much as I might want to hurry, I definitely don't want — or need — a twisted ankle the day before we're due to start the international leg of the trip. As Mom was right — I should take advantage of the upcoming whirlwind tour of Europe to at least try and get some sightseeing in. As who knows when I'll get the chance to do this again...

...especially if I'm forced to become a hermit because we fail to expose the mastermind behind the press scandal.

I shake my head. No. I need to stay positive. It's the only way I'm going to get through—

"Competing with a herd of elephants, Gale?"

I snap my gaze up at the sound of Drake's voice... and nearly trip over a hidden apple lodged in the grass.

"You try sneaking ‘round in four-inch heels," I grumble back at him, while using the trunk of a nearby tree to steady myself.

He mutters something under his breath as he steps over to me with an outstretched hand. "Here."

Grabbing his hand, I navigate gingerly away from the tree, only to find that the slightly rotten fruit has become impaled on the end of my stiletto.

"Great..." I groan, trying to flick the stupid thing off... But it stays stubbornly stuck.

"You're a walking disaster, y'know that, right?" drawls Drake as he drops down in front of me.

"Ha-ha, funny," I snark back at him while trying to balance on one foot on the uneven ground.

He meets my eye with a wry look as he finally manages to pull the offending fruit off with a squelch. "You're only gripin' 'cause it's true."

"Yeah, well, not all of us have... reflexes... like Neo..." I reply sardonically as I save myself from tipping over by grabbing onto Drake's shoulder.

He stifles a scoff as he tosses the apple into the trees. "You good?"

"Yeah," I confirm, righting myself again and letting go of his shirt.

Drake regards me critically for a long moment — as if expecting me to keel over again at the drop of a hat — before pushing himself up.

"Thanks," I say, laying an appreciative hand on his arm.

The humour fades from his gaze at the contact.

"Drake..." I start...

...but he's already pulled away.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asks, not quite meeting my eyes as he slots his hands into his pockets, the momentary lightness of our previous interaction gone.

I heave a breath.

We really need to talk about what happened this morning. But his suddenly standoffish demeanour makes it clear that he's not quite ready for that yet.

So, I decide to start with something less contentious.

"We have a lead on the photographer," I tell him, reaching into my clutch.

His head perks up with interest. "That was fast."

"Teamwork makes the dream work," I agree with a smile, pulling the flash drive back out and holding it out to him.

His posture suddenly stiffens. "The hell is that?"

I glance around me uncertainly. "What?"

"The fucking ring on your finger," he declares dispassionately, his accusatory gaze scorching into my outstretched hand.

My heart drops. Oh, no...

This is not how I wanted to break it to him. But unfortunately for both of us, the cat has now ripped itself out of the proverbial bag, so I'm just going to have to scamper after it.

Taking a steadying inhale, I look him square in the eye. "It's my new signet ring." I turn my hand over to show it to him.

His face darkens. "Fils de pute de—" he grits under his breath, snapping a hand out to grab my wrist.

My eyes widen. "Drake, what are y—?"

A storm is raging in his espresso gaze. "Signet rings go on the little finger. On the right hand."

"Oh," is all I can manage as he swipes the golden band off my left ring finger.

"You didn't know, did you?" he asks softly, reaching for my other hand... more gently this time.

I shake my head with a constricted throat. "No, I—"

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

My head jerks ‘round at the sound of the unexpected voice. "Christian!"

"I see you couldn't resist a somewhat impulsive stroll through the orchards, either?" he asks, more rhetorically than anything else. "The scent of apples is truly luscious this time of year."

"Erm... yes...!" I manage to squeak out, shoving my right hand behind my back. "Smells like apple juice!"

Christian's brow quivers ever so slightly at my slightly random — and obviously unexpected — comparison.

But I'm too busy coordinating with Drake to get the signet ring shoved back onto my hand while trying to palm the flash drive off to him without dropping either in the process. As both outcomes would lead to some very awkward conversations!

I feel the warmth of the metal slide onto the index finger of my hand (Drake had probably ascertained that the circumference of the band was too large for my pinky), and I'm finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Embarrassing backpedaling, narrowly averted!

Drake uses the opportunity to extract the flash drive from my hand as well, dropping the device casually into his pocket as he moves beside me. "She ain't wrong."

"No," concedes Christian, eying the two of us for a second longer than strictly comfortable. "She rarely is."

"So, umm... Are you hiding from the paps as well?" I ask in a bid to diffuse the growing tension in the air.

"No, I came looking for you, actually," he corrects, taking a step forward. "I saw you slip into the orchard, and thought it prudent to follow you."

"Oh?" I say, feeling my stomach tighten again. "Worried I might get lost?"

"I was hoping to catch you alone," he corrects, coming to a stop in front of me.

I swallow tightly as I see him glance over at Drake.

Please don't fight... Please don't fight...

Christian's gaze reverts to me. "But I suppose it is convenient for Drake to happen to be here as well."

My heart skips an uncomfortable beat. "It is?"

"Yes," he affirms. "I have received some news that you'll both be interested in hearing."

"Well, don't keep us in damn suspense, then..." mutters Drake with a noticeable edge to his voice.

I try to reach discretely out to brush my fingers against his, to reassure him that come what may, we'll get through it together, that—

"We found Tariq."

Christian's words hit me like a kick to the chest. The breath explodes out of me so forcefully that I am actually forced to take a step back in a bid to maintain my balance as the apple trees descend into a spin around me.

No way...

"Where?"

Drake's voice floats across the edge of my awareness. And even in my spaced-out state, I can feel the weight of the cold, calculated fury infused into that single word.

No corner... No mercy.

"Dubai," replies Christian, who also sounds like he's miles away. "He—"

But Drake's already spun away. "Send me the coordinates."

"Harper?"

I blink up at Christian in a daze. "Huh?"

"Are you alright?" he asks, laying a concerned hand on my cheek. "You... You looked as if you were about to faint..."

"I..." I swallow past the sudden dryness in my throat. "I'm okay."

"Are you certain?" he presses, peering down at me. "I could ring for a doctor, and—"

"No," I insist, pulling away from him. "I'm fine. I... I guess I just got caught off-guard..."

"It is an unexpected development, certainly," he concedes. "But hopefully still a welcome one?"

"Yes!" I blurt out. "Of course! I want to clear my name more than anyone, and Tariq is key to that! I just..." My voice trails uncertainly off.

Christian flashes me a knowing half-smile. "Feel some trepidation about the prospect...?"

"I guess so," I concede, my fingers moving unconsciously to the horseshoe charm at my wrist.

Because as much as I may want Tariq to pay for what he did from a rational point of view, from an emotional standpoint, I’m terrified.

As even though I know in the back of my mind that a lot of my trepidation has to do with the fact that I am still trying to recover from the psychological trauma that Tariq inflicted on me, a major part of me is also scared of what setting the record straight would entail in practice.

Christian had mentioned that there were 'methods of persuasion' that could be used to force a confession from Tariq. But then what? Would I be made to very publicly relive the entire horrible episode in the form of TV spots and interviews, or would we be able to get by with one official press release? And given my spotty history with the press, will people actually believe my side of the story...?

I mean, Meghan and Harry didn’t exactly fare well in the court of public opinion when they tried to counter the official royal narrative...

On top of all that, in light of my very visceral reactions to returning to Applewood, I have no idea how I'm going to react to seeing Tariq in person again. Would I burst into tears? Have a nervous breakdown? Dissolve into a panic attack? Stab him in the gut and then the nuts?

And (possibly worst of all) what if we discover that Tariq had been acting alone? And his attack on me — while traumatising — is in no way connected to the larger, and definitely more dangerous plot to remove me from the running for Queen? What then...?

"Your qualms are not as misplaced as you may initially think," Christian consoles. "It is a daunting prospect to face the person who actively sought to harm you."

Something in his tone catches my attention. "What do you mean?"

Christian heaves a sigh. "I do not know if you are aware of this, but several years ago, I was the target of an assassination attempt."

I nod tightly. "Yes. Drake told me."

"Then I presume he also told you how deeply the experience affected me," he says, catching my eye with an uncharacteristically guarded look.

"Yes," I affirm, thinking back to the conversation in Olivia's wine cellar that felt like years ago.

"What he probably didn't tell you, however," he continues, "is that I visited the perpetrator in prison."

My jaw drops. "You what!"

"Not publicly and certainly not in any official capacity." He shakes his head wryly. "I did not even talk to the man."

"Then why...?"

"I... I was having trouble reconciling with what had happened," he explains. "And moving past it. The trauma councillor that I was working with suggested that it was perhaps because I was subconsciously endowing the gunman with too much power, and thereby transmuting the man into something more akin to an evil monster."

A shiver runs down my spine at Christian's words. It's like he's talking about Tariq...

"So, to help break the negative emotional associations I had built up, my councillor arranged a clandestine meeting where I would have the opportunity to face the man."

"How... How did that go?" I ask nervously.

"I was terrified, of course," Christian admits. "I had no idea what to expect and each scenario I imagined in my head was worse than the last. But, when I finally got into room where the meeting was to take place, I was surprised by what I saw. As rather than some hulking, shadowy fiend, it was a pale, somewhat diminutive man sat across from me."

"So… what did you do?"

"We simply sat at a table and stared at each other," he recounts. "He with more than a bit of contemptuous malice, I have to admit, but in that moment, I realised that he was a flesh-and-blood person who had fallen prey to the same misguided emotions as I — anger, fear, resentment — just manifested differently. And that helped set me onto the path of true healing. As ultimately, I was able to forgive him."

"Forgive him?" I gasp disbelievingly. "For trying to murder you?"

"Nobody acts in isolation," Christian advises calmly. "Even the most unconscionable horrors perpetrated by the villains of humanity — torture, mass murder, genocide — sprout from the basis of an emotional or psychological motivator such as love, fear, greed, jealousy... to name but a few. So, while we may disagree with and condemn the action retrospectively from the safety of the moral high-ground, it is very possible that had we found ourselves in a similar situation, we would end up being just as guilty as the person we are looking to condemn."

"So, what?" I demand testily. "I should feel sorry for Tariq for what he did to me?"

"Showing empathy and compassion towards our counterparts does not mean forgetting or excusing the harm suffered," counsels Christian. "But it will certainly allow you to start on the path of true healing."

I shake my head as I turn away. "I'm not sure Tariq deserves that..."

"It is by no means an easy assignment," he admits, laying a hand on my shoulder. "But even if you cannot find it in your heart presently to forgive him, do at least try to keep yourself open to the possibility down the line. You may be surprised by the results."

Looking up, I can see that there is sincerity welling on his emerald gaze. And — for once — I don't doubt the true intent of his words. "Thanks. I'll think about it."

"As diplomatic as ever," he smiles, the tips of his fingers brushing down my back as he drops his hand. "And, regardless of what you choose to do, I'll be right by your side to support you."

"Thanks," I mutter with what I hope is a genuine smile, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that with Drake’s abrupt departure, it’s just me and Christian amongst the trees. Taking a step back towards the way I’d come, I ask, "So, umm... How did you end up finding him?"

"Instagram," replies Christian with a wry chuckle as he falls into step beside me.

My head snaps up in bewilderment. "He posted his whereabouts?"

"No," he laughs, looping my arm through his in reassurance. "Not intentionally, at any rate. He took shelter on his cousin's yacht docked off the coast of the Palm Jumeirah, and—"

"What's that?" I ask with a frown.

"One of a trio of artificially constructed archipelagos located off the coast of Dubai," he explains. "They are so called for their shape, which resemble stylised palm trees."

"Sounds... fancy," I admit, while trying to maintain some semblance of platonic distance between the two of us.

"They really are a sight to behold," he affirms, pulling me back to his side. "But it is part of the reason why we were not able to locate him initially — we knew he has family in the Emirates, of course, but—"

"He does?" I interject in surprise. This is certainly news to me...!

"Yes," he nods. "His father is a Cordonian nobleman, but his mother hails from the House of Al Falasi, the branch of the Bani Yas tribe that also produced Dubai's ruling family."

My eyes widen. "So, his mom is royalty?"

"No," chuckles Christian. "She is not directly connected to the Al Maktoum dynasty. But her family is nevertheless influential in the region. Which is why when we hit a roadblock with the French authorities, we decided to focus our efforts on countries where we knew he had familial or business connections. The Emirates, however, boast a multitude of private airfields, not to mention water-based ports of entry, so attempting to narrow down Tariq’s possible time and method of arrival and determining where he went from there was providing to be a complex undertaking. Especially since we had to ensure to conduct our enquiries outside of the official channels."

"Specifically, via social media," I supply dryly.

"Yes," confirms Christian, only half jokingly. "When we realised that Tariq must have switched off or changed out his phone, Drake suggested that we set up a facial recognition-based search algorithm that could scour the various social media and news portals in a bid to help us pinpoint his exact location."

"That sounds... technical," I admit.

"A few years ago, it would have been, But the technology is relatively commonplace now, thankfully."

"So, you managed to get a hit?"

"Yes," he affirms. "One of his cousins on his mother's side posted a selfie featuring his new yacht a couple of days ago... and someone who partially matched Tariq's features was visible on the edge of the frame. But it wasn't until this morning that our man on the ground was able to obtain independent confirmation that it really was him."

"Wow..." I manage. "Talk about blind, dumb luck."

"Never underestimate the awesome power of serendipity," counsels Christian with a smile as we reach the edge of the trees again. "It certainly played a hand in crossing our paths."

I swallow nervously. "Yeah, I—"

"You have some nerve!"

Before I have a chance to realise what is happening, Madeleine has swooped in from seemingly out of nowhere to intercept us with all the wrathful precision of a homing missile.

"Ow!" I hiss, feeling the ends of her manicured nails sink into my arm as she wrenches me off Christian like I'm some kind of plague.

"One would think you would be grateful to His Majesty for his benevolent generosity in elevating your previously non-existent status to that of a duchess," she spits with barely disguised contempt as she pulls me nose-to-nose with her.

"Get off me!" I grit, trying to shake her loose.

"Madeleine..." interjects Christian from behind me in a voice that I only heard him use once before... in the hallway at Ramsford when he realised that Drake had brought me back to Cordonia. "You overstep."

But the Countess of Fydelia seems to hear neither of us as she tightens her claw-like hold on me. "Yet instead, you repay him by not only by hijacking a royal event to serve your own shameless self-aggrandisement—"

I shake my head in disbelief. "Wait... Wh—?"

"—but then you have the unmitigated gall—"

"Madeleine," says Christian again, more forcefully this time. "That is enough."

But Madeleine is oblivious to the quiet threat suffused into the sound of her name, choosing to continue her tirade instead, "—to sneak off into the bushes with my fiancé in order to do God-knows-what when he should be—"

"I said, enough!" snaps Christian, coming suddenly between Madeleine and me with a face of thunder.

The force of his command is loud enough to cause a few heads on the edge of the lawn to turn curiously towards us.

Even Madeleine startles somewhat in response to the uncharacteristically vehement order. But not enough to let go of me.

"Can you not see what she is doing?" she demands indignantly as she turns to face Christian. "Or does she have you wrapped so tightly around her finger that you cannot even—?"

"How I choose to spend my time with the Duchess of Valtoria in private is of no concern to you, Countess," interjects Christian bluntly. "Or do I need to remind you of the conditions of our engagement?"

Madeleine's alabaster cheeks flush scarlet. "No..."

"Then I strongly suggest that you unhand Lady Harper, and ensure that this kind of juvenile outburst does not happen again."

Madeleine's eyes blaze with cold fury. But she relinquishes her hold on me, nevertheless. "My apologies, Duchess..." she snips, her voice dripping with insincerity.

I reach up to rub the spot where her nails had been on the verge of puncturing my skin.

Bitch...

Christian nods tersely in approval. "Now that that is sorted, I believe our guests are waiting. Lady Madeleine, if you'd be so kind..."

Madeleine takes his arm with a look that could've killed. "Of course, Your Majesty."

"Lady Harper," acknowledges Christian with a dip of his head as he starts to steer his seething fiancée away.

Knowing that all eyes are still on us, I drop into a quick curtesy as they walk past, on one hand grateful to Christian for shutting Madeleine down, but on the other hand wondering how badly we kicked into a nest of hornets in the process.

As it is clear that Madeleine is still raging with jealous insecurity... Perhaps even more so than she had been back at her manor when she cornered me in the bathroom. And the fact that — despite the massive diamond on her finger — I now technically outrank her is definitely not helping the situation!

So much for making allies at court…

Blowing a wayward strand of hair out of my face, I turn back towards the festivities…

…only to be greeted by a wall of judgemental eyes, and more than a few camera lenses.

"Great..." I mutter under my breath.

Whether catching me with Christian had been the genuine straw that snapped Madeleine's cool, or whether she deliberately fabricated the showdown to undermine the positive reactions I got from the press earlier, the end result is the same...

I'm going to be on the front page tomorrow. Again.

Exactly in what form, I have no idea. But I've been at court long enough now to know that the whole thing will be blown completely out of proportion, and the resulting story will generate even more press frenzy.

But if there’s one thing that Drake has taught me, it’s that I cannot allow myself to give the aristos the satisfaction of ever thinking that they’ve managed to squash me into the dirt. Because that would undermine the entire reason why I came back to court in the first place, and given how close we now are to claiming back the truth, it would be a massive and premature admission of defeat.

So, raising my chin defiantly, I make my way back across the lawn to rejoin the remainder of the Festival.

The story continues in Chapter 17 - News Flash

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

@thetruthisthatiloveyou @anakjaybon-blog

[choices-binglebonkus]

It’s pretty ironic how Pixelberry’s focus on forbidden romances has produced pretty mediocre stories, while their earlier books had some pretty damn good forbidden romances without even making it a huge deal.

[eadanga]

Royal Love Part 21

Summary: Now 18 Eleanor heads to her first year of college and falls for a handsome musician. Can she keep her royal secret be with her true love?

A/N: This series is for @kingliam2019 one of my 500 followers giveaway winners

Eleanor came back from the party and laid on her bed she cried into her pillow I can’t believe this. A knock came at the door “Elle you left the party in tears what happened can I come in?”

“Yeah sure”

She opens the door and sits down beside her “Did you tell him about?”

“Yeah I did”

“What happened?”

“He said he needs to think about it you know what that means”

“It means give him time”

“Forget it it’s over you should have seen his face”

“No you can’t think like that”

Eleanor sighs “Can I get a moment please?”

Marissa nods “You know where to find me” She leaves the room

Eleanor clutches her pillow as she feels an ache in her chest taking a deep breath she dials her dad

“Hi my princess what’s?”

“Dad I…” She takes a deep breath “I told Cole everything”

Liam pauses before he answers “How did he take it?”

“Said he needed to think about it but the look he had on his face I don’t know dad it…may be over”

Liam pauses again then speaks “I’m flying over”

“Dad you don’t”

“Please I need to be there for you it breaks my heart to know you’re in pain and I’m not there to help you”

Eleanor gives a small smile “Ok dad”

“I’ll be over tomorrow princess”

****

Eleanor awakens the next day to smell of pancakes, eggs and bacon What is she walks out her room and sees her dad and Marissa in the kitchen

“Wow the king can make some food? Don’t you have servants for that though?”

Liam chuckles as he sets the kettle to boil “I may be king but I’m a regular guy like everyone else”

“That is true”

“Dad how’d you get in here?”

“I’m a master a disguise”

Marissa giggles “He means I helped him”

Liam chuckles “She did indeed”

Eleanor giggles then goes to hug Liam “I’m glad you’re here”

Liam tightens his arms around her “Me too now hurry and eat and get dressed”

“Why? Where are we going?”

“You’ll see” He hands her a plate “Eat up I’ll be waiting by the car”

Eleanor smiles as she digs into her breakfast then heads to get dressed She heads out and sees Liam waving next to a black tinted car. He holds the door open for her “Shall we?”

Eleanor grins then heads to the car and they drive in a comfortable silence before Eleanor breaks it “Where are we going dad?”

“To a very special place” The car stops and Eleanor looks in confusion

“Dad what is this place?”

“It’s where I met your mother”

“You met mom here?”

Liam nods “Yup your uncle Drake took me out for a little party because it was the social season and soon I was to pick a bride I wasn’t having fun cause all I could think about was how I had to be engage to someone by the end of year someone I wasn’t gonna love I was dreading heading back home”

“What happened?”

“We stopped by this bar and I went to take a call but when I came back I saw the most beautiful woman”

Eleanor grins “Mom?”

“Oh yes even in her waitress uniform her beauty outshined everything”

Eleanor giggles “Then what happened?”

“You’re about to find out” He takes her hand and guides her down the street to a club “This is where she took us next so we could have some fun and we talked then she something spontaneous for me” He takes her hand and guides her to a bridge

Eleanor grins “Is that the Statue of Liberty?”

Liam nods “She called in a favor and had a boat ride around it and speaking of here comes our boat now���

Eleanor grins “Dad you didn’t have to do all this”

“That smile on your face is worth it my princess now let’s board” They head on the boat and get close to the statue “And this is where I asked her to marry me imagine my joy when she said yes”

“You’re love story is so sweet”

“It is and so will yours”

Eleanor sighs “But what if he rejects me?”

“Then that’s his loss forget doesn’t mean anything is wrong with you”

Eleanor smiles “I know I just starting to fall for him and I can’t help”

Liam places a hand on her shoulder “I know you can’t just turn off your feelings but like I told you before if he truly loves you he’ll accept you as you are”

“Like how you fell for mom?”

“I know she had a difficult time during the social season but I didn’t care where she came from I love her all the same”

Eleanor grins “Thanks dad you’re the best”

“Anytime my princess now shall we get some lunch?”

“Did you make it?”

“I was thinking we can go to a restaurant”

Eleanor grins “No I want you to make it”

Liam chuckles “Ok let’s head to the store and decide what to make”

Tags: @choicesgodfanatic @indiacater @the-soot-sprite @princess-geek @iaminlovewithtrr @gkittylove99 @twinkleallnight @kingliam2019

[xxrainbow-princessxx]

Does Distance Make The Heart Grow Fonder? - Oneshot Isabella x Mafia!Leo (Rules of Engagement/The Royal Romance AU) - Part 4

Read Part 1: Here

Read Part 2: Here

Read Part 3: Here

Summary: Isabella and Leo’s Kingdoms both were overthrown by the Via Imperii. The Crown Princess along with her family were exiled whilst the Cordonian Royal Family went underground, fighting to reclaim their throne and hold over the Cordonian People through other means.

TW: Cursing, Implied Violence, Violence, Implied 🍋

Tagging: @lorirwritesfanfic @drakewalkerfantasy @rainbowsinthestorm @lorircreates @beyondsimsreality @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @secretaryunpaid @rafasgirl23415 @twinkleallnight

“What do you mean you can’t fucking tell me?” Leo seethed as he spoke to the Doctor’s receptionist who reminded him that only Isabella could get the results. “I’m sorry sir but it is not possible for me to provide that information as you are not the children’s legal guardian. We have tried to call Ms. Sánchez this morning on a few occasions but there’s been no answer to the number provided…” Leo began to see red, for something so important, why the hell was she not answering.

Immediately he began to question what game was she playing with him? Was she planning to withhold the information to keep him in a compromising position? Leo tried to call her himself but again, straight to voicemail which pissed him off even more. Swearing under his breath about how he was going to tear that goddamn medical Center apart, he grabbed his keys furiously before driving off towards the Capital. He knew it was a day that Isabella was at the University but patience was not one of Leo’s strongpoints. He revved the engine of his Aston Martin as his jaw clenched. “Fucking traffic!” he slammed his hands onto the steering wheel, his foot riding the clutch constantly as he shifted gears, darting and weaving his way between the cars destined to go North towards the heart of the Cordonian Kingdom.

Stomping around the corridors as he marched his way to Isabella’s office. Leo stuffed his hands into his pockets, keeping his head low to distract from any sort of suspicion. Opening the door, he heard Isabella’s voice stop mid sentence as his sea green eyes glared at the student who turned to understand why his professor stopped discussing his assignment. “You…” Leo snapped as he gestured behind him, “Get out!” holding the door open as the panicked student rummaged to get his things. As soon as his body has passed the door frame. Leo shut the door, his nostril twitching, “Do you not have a phone or something?” he barked at the petite brunette who looked puzzled, “What the fuck Leo?” She began to sigh, “Of course I do…” The sandy haired Crime Lord sucked in his cheeks before snapping back towards her, “Then when I call you… fucking answer!” Isabella rose to her feet, pushing out her chair as she picked up papers that sat on her desk. Instead of walking towards Leo, she walked towards the filing cabinet. “Leo…” she spoke calmly as she flicked through the alphabetical list, “I don’t have my personal phone switched on during 1:1 discussion time with students… they’ve paid a lot of money to be here so they deserve 100% of my attention… if there’s an emergency, then the office number is called…”

Walking past him again to her desk, Leo grunted under his breath as she ignored him again to take her seat. Her soft caramel curls cascaded down her back as she pulled on the hem of her black pinstripe pencil dress before taking her seat again, “Is there something I can do for you before my next student arrives?” She aggravated him so much that Leo clenched his teeth, his jaw muscle rippled as he held himself back. He swallowed hard before he could find the words, “The results are ready, so we are going to…” Isabella nodded, “Yes, I am aware… I do check my messages Leo but I have appointments until 2:30pm…” the Laurentian beauty began to smile, “Either you are welcome to sit there for the next three hours and wait…” emphasising the word, “patiently… or I will call you when I am ready. It’s your choice…” The former Crown Prince didn’t respond other than to slam the door behind him causing the glass panel in the door to shake behind him. Again, Leo found himself grumbling as he roamed the corridors before slipping into an empty office space checking there was no one around or camera. He looked around, the room felt cold; looked like no one had been around for days. Taking out his hip flask he kept filled with rubbing alcohol, he poured the contents around the pile of papers and the carpet of the room. He began to evilly smirk as he held the zippo lighter he had in his hand against the wet materials to set them alight.

The agonising sound of the fire alarm interrupted Isabella’s next appointment half an hour later. She had closed her eyes before breathing in deeply as she tried to push down her annoyance. With pursed lips, she along with all the rest of the faculty and students who were in that section of the university had to evacuate. Immediately the petite brunette as she entered the quad gardens saw Leo standing back, lighting a cigarette. Marching over to him, it took all of Isabella’s power not to want to slap him there and then. “What are you playing at?” She seethed, “Are you that much of a fucking child that you set off fire alarms to get my attention?” Leo simply shrugged with a callous smile, “You hurt my feelings kitten… so I made myself feel better…” Isabella could only shake her head, rolling her eyes to the point she could feel the strain. He was infuriating. Before she could answer, an announcement went out over a loudspeaker to confirm that all classes in the University’s southern corridor were cancelled to do a health and safety assessment. “You’re free now…” Leo grunted looking around to ensure no one spotted them, “Get in the fucking car…”

Isabella’s dark chocolate brown eyes rolled to the right as Leo sped down the highway, “You do realise kidnapping someone because you want something done when you want it done screams that you’re an asshole?” Leo kept his gaze to the road, his grip on the steering wheel again tightened at the insinuation, “Well Princess…” he jeered, “I’ve never claimed I’m not an asshole… this is a means to an end…” he snapped, “Then you can go back to whatever the hell you want…” The petite brunette sucked in her cheeks as she firmly spoke again, “You don’t scare me… so your threats don’t matter…” Leo chuckled loudly in the car. With a smirk he replied back to her, “No matter the result kitten…” he turned his gaze towards her, tilting her chin to force her meet his. Leo’s green eyes flashed with a cold darkness that Isabella didn’t expect, “You should be fucking scared…” Pulling herself away from him, Isabella sat scornfully quiet in the car until they pulled up to the doctors office. Isabella walked in with Leo towering over the petite brunette. She smiled warmly at the terrified assistant who Leo kept glaring at. “We’re here to collect some results for the Sánchez children, the doctor confirmed they were ready to collect this morning…” Isabella calmly spoke as the assistant fumbled through the information they had before shakily handing Isabella the envelope and a letter to sign, “Thank you…” the former Crown Princess cooed as she pushed the signed document across the desk.

Isabella handed Leo the envelope before they had left the doctors office as she raised her brows, “Can’t accuse me of switching anything now can you?” but Leo didn’t speak, other than tapping the corner of the envelope against his hand. “Are you not going to open it?” Isabella questioned but Leo curtly replied, “Not here…” Isabella checked her watch quickly with hesitation, “Well we have an hour and a half before they need picked up from school…” Leo hadn’t thought of that. He took a moment before he reached for his phone sending Sofie a message to go pick the girls up with Drake as guard. “Sofie can do it… we have to talk…” Isabella nodded in agreement as they both returned to the car. The tension between them both was palpable, neither one wanting to interrupt each others thought processes. Leo’s mind wandered to the envelope, he knew deep down what the results were, he knew deep down looking at them both they were his; hell he would have just accepted her telling him but legally for him to protect them, he had to have it in writing as Liam had constantly reminded him. The Crime Lord also needed to have proof so his enemies couldn’t use the ambiguity of their parentage to their advantage and selfishly, he could then finally have his name proudly on their birth certificates.

Leo drove south, back towards Valtoria but instead of heading to his compound, he drove higher up into the mountains away from the rest of the world, leaving only him and her. “Why are we here?” Isabella raised her brow in question as Leo finally braked at the top of the top of the Valtorian Valley overlooking the lake. Leo took the envelope from his pocket, his eyes looking down towards the unopened letter in his hands before quietly passing it to the exiled Crown Princess, “You open it…” he grunted, keeping his gaze forward. Isabella delicately opened the envelope, holding up the two separate pages side by side. “We’ll wouldn’t you know…” the Laurentian beauty began to smile smugly, “Full marks…” before handing them to the sandy haired Cordonian who sat beside her. Leo took a moment to take it in. There was no longer any doubt as he slowly began to take things in, “You never did anything by halves did you?” he mumbled before folding the pieces of paper back up into three and putting them into his coat pocket. Leo licked his bottom lip before resting his head against the headrest, looking upwards, “Fuck…” he ran his tattooed hands down his face as he laughed, “So where does this leave us? To think we were planning a wedding once; now we’re practically strangers with kids…” Isabella giggled in agreement with a smile, “That’s true… however…” the Laurentian beauty turned to her former love. Leo found himself getting lost in her dark chocolate brown eyes like he had done for so many years, giving him optimism and finally some hope.

Isabella’s tone changed from jovial to more serious, “We will need to work out a co-parenting schedule… We’re due to go back to New York in a couple of weeks… So it’s important we do things right…” reaching out, Leo took one of the petite brunette’s soft, delicate hands into his own, “I agree, but first there’s something we need to do…” Isabella swore she could see a soft blush on his cheeks but didn’t want to interrupt, “Have dinner with me Bella… I know I am many things…” the former Crown Prince sighed, “…but I don’t want you to think I’m a complete monster, I’ve never wanted that…” Isabella slowly squeezed his hand gently, “That’s fine… we can do dinner as long as we’re back in time for the girls to go to bed… I’ll need to find a babysitter…” Leo chuckled to himself, feeling his heart almost skip a beat when she agreed, “Don’t worry beautiful… I have enough people who work for me to have that arranged… they should come up to the main house for the night. There’s a cinema room. I’m sure they can find something to watch…” Isabella nodded, “That would be nice for them, thank you… I do have one request that only the staff you truly trust are there, they’re not ready to meet your girlfriend before they’ve met you…” Leo didn’t hesitate in agreeing, “Only my most personal staff will be around, plus Liam and Drake will be there to keep an eye on things… If you want privacy, I can have someone pick you up and I can meet you there…”

Leo found it strange that Isabella referred to him as having a girlfriend but he didn’t question it; they had more important things to discuss. “Ok…” Isabella nodded, it was nice that for once recently they weren’t arguing over something. It felt almost normal. “Probably should head back…” Leo sighed having checked the time, “I’ve got a few things I need to take care of beforehand…” He drove back towards the cottage that Isabella and the twins were staying in. The quietness of the drive was no longer tense, if anything it was as if a weight finally arose from his shoulders. “I’ll have someone pick you up at 7pm…” The sandy haired Cordonian mumbled as Isabella reached for the passenger door. The corners of her mouth slowly curled upwards as she placed one foot onto the ground, turning to face Leo once more, “…For the record…” she began to smile, “I’ve never thought you a monster… I’ll see you later…” As promised, Leo organised his most trusted staff and Liam to be there when the kids arrived and they all had been briefed to ensure no one else was allowed in the property; it was to be like Fort Knox or someone would have to answer to him when he returned as Drake escorted the petite brunette toward the Castelsarreillan duchy.

Dressed in a black midi camisole dress, and coat to save her from the cold Cordonian February night, Isabella was directed through the back entrance towards a private room. Greeted by a kind waiter, her chair was pulled out for her. “Please sit…” he gestured towards the chair, “Your guest will be here momentarily… would you like some champagne, your guest has already chosen the wine for the evening…” Isabella smiled warmly towards him, “I will wait, thank you…” she cooed, not wanting to take advantage of Leo’s hospitality. The former Crown Prince finally arrived fifteen minutes later flanked by two guards. Leo’s dominance and authority almost suffocated the room. No one stepped out of line until he dismissed them. “You haven’t ordered?” He began to frown as he noticed the empty plate, his glare then directed to the nervous waiter. “No… no…” Isabella stood to her feet, reaching out to Leo’s arm, holding it gently, “I asked to wait until you arrived…I am sorry…” she turned to the waiter with a warm, forgiving smile, “Just some crossed wires…” Leo swallowed hard, the word sorry didn’t exist in his vocabulary. “Fine…” his glare never left the waiter as he ran off to prep the kitchen for the pre-ordered food that Leo requested.

They talked; reminiscing about the good times, the bad times and the could have been times. “I would have been there in a heartbeat if I had known…” Leo sighed heavily as his heavily tattooed hand reached across the table to hold hers, “Believe me kitten… if I could have changed the outcome of all of this I would have…” Isabella lowered her head, placing her other hand over Leo’s, “I know…” she calmly stroked his skin with her thumb, “But we must think of the future, not live in the past…” All Leo could do was chuckle bashfully, “You’re always the voice of reason aren’t you…” before he reached into his blazer jacket pocket, removing a little red box and pushing it across to her. Isabella looked confused, it seemed familiar but she wasn’t sure. Slowly she opened the red leather bound box. Her hand crossing her mouth in shock. “Leo…” her eyes darted up towards him, “This is your mother’s ring… no… you were to keep this…” but the Crime Lord simply shook his head, “It was yours, it’s always going to be yours… you’re the mother of my children; no matter what happens - you should have it…” the Laurentian beauty stared at the emerald cut diamond ring, “This is too much Leo…” she sighed, “You should keep this if you plan to marry…” Leo took the ring out of the box, taking Isabella’s left hand before sliding the ring onto her finger. “The only person I ever wanted to marry left me two weeks before we could tell anyone we were to be engaged, that ring was only meant for one person and that’s you…”

The former Crown Prince laughed as the colour drained from Isabella’s face, “I’m not fucking forcing you to marry me if that’s what you’re worried about!” Isabella raised her champagne flute to her lips, taking a sip to calm her nerves, “I wouldn’t have thought your girlfriend would have appreciated that…” she giggled. “What girlfriend?” Leo raised his brow, wondering what she meant. “When you came to visit, you referred to someone as babe… apologies if I assumed incorrectly…” Leo began to smirk as he took a drink from the crystal tumbler in his hand, “That…” he began to laugh, “That isn’t a problem, I don’t have a partner… she’s just a distraction…” the petite brunette nodded her head not wanting to press any further. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know or not. Her eyes lit up once again as dessert arrived, “Laurentian chocolate cake…” the exiled Crown Princess grinned smelling the mixture of cocoa, cinnamon and honey. “I can’t remember the last time we had this…” but Leo did, he remembered he was served it the day he asked her father could he marry her. Reluctantly Felipe said yes after much persuasion but it always reminded him of better times. “Glad you like it…”

Drake returned to the compound only to find Leo’s ‘distraction’ banging on the front door of the mansion. “Hey…” he shouted, “What the fuck are you doing?!” much to her annoyance. “What do you think I’m doing?!” She angrily spat back, “He stood me up and I want to know why?!” Drake simply shook his head, “Business came up, he had to switch his phone off. Probably lost track of time…” pouting her lips, she folded her arms, “Well let me in and I will wait for him when he gets back…” but Drake brushed past her with a chuckle, “No can do… no one in or out until the big guy gets back… you can wait out there if you want but you put one foot over this threshold - you’ll soon regret not listening to me…” Her blue eyes narrowed angrily towards the Texan, “Fuck you Drake!” she screamed as he slammed the door behind him. She did wait and her anger began to bubble over. Her eyes widened as she saw Leo get out of his car and open the door for Isabella. He extended his hand out toward her before escorting her into his home. “What the fuck?!” she seethed, reaching for her phone taking pictures of the pair together linked arm and arm. “Fucking asshole won’t make me look like an idiot and get away with it!” Unknown to her, Isabella and Leo walked in to find the two girls cuddled up beside Sofie and Liam. “I’m sorry…” Isabella quietly laughed, “They’re dead to the world when they sleep… Leo could you?” gesturing to the two sleeping kids. Leo looked down at her quite shocked but jumped at the opportunity to help, “Can you help me carry them to their room?” With ease, Leo picked up each twin without hesitation; both of them still sleeping as they nuzzled into his neck. His heart was full as he placed them down gently onto the King Sized bed. Isabella smiled as she held onto the door, waiting for him to leave. She kissed Leo’s cheek gently and whispered “Thank you for tonight” to him before closing the door over for the evening. Both of them went to sleep content but not ready for the following morning announcements.

[playchoicesconfessions]

Sent by anonymous

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

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

[tessa-liam]

Healing, Day 5

Brothers in Arms

Introducing my new W.I.P....

Brothers in Arms

Drake-Liam-Leo-Maxwell

✨️Artwork Commission by @artbyainna

Inspiration:

King Liam Appreciation Week creators, @sazanes & @lizzybeth1986

@lizzybeth1986 's phenomenal essays

@ao719 's 'Breaking Point' Series - her devotion for Liam

Pixelberry Studios for these characters and the Royal Romance, the Royal Heir, the Royal Finale stories /books

Premise:

STOIC: A person who can endure pain or hardship without showing their feelings or complaining.

Four men, their lives interconnected. Siblings, childhood friends, on different life paths, they share a commonality. When their lives become insurmountable, they have their core alliance to depend on. This is their journey.

Musical Influence:

'You did not desert me

My brothers in arms'

🫶If you would like to join me in this new journey, please let me know...my permas are already tagged🫶

This has been an inspiring week ✨️💖✨️

Thank you so much @lizzybeth1986 & @sazanes for hosting #KLAW2024🥂⚘️

@kingliamappreciationweek @choicesmonthlychallenge , prompt 01- appreciation @choicesficwriterscreations @choicescommunityevents

[zoeywades-spouse]

I love how if MC tells Liam that they cannot marry him because they’re in love with someone else he’s surprised but if it’s Hana or Drake he’s like makes sense, they’re both wonderful people who deserve happiness and I hope you find it with them.

However, if it’s Maxwell Liam literally just stares at MC in shock, completely bamboozled, blown away. Because out of all the beautiful and available nobles and people in the court MC literally fell for the most ridiculous person there