#drake x liam

[deb-1106]

Forever

Chapter 1

Rating: NSFW  (This Series contains mature themes, depictions of sexual acts including m/m, m/f, and m/m/f, and coarse language)

Pairing: Drake x Liam

Author’s Note: This series is set in an AU where Liam and Drake are in love with one another and there was never a conspiracy against Riley.  This has enough drama without all that Canon nonsense.  :)

Word Count:  2730

Liam heard the distinctive sound of Riley's musical laughter coming from somewhere in the great hall.  He stopped to listen, a smile playing across his lips.  She was such a breath of fresh air in the palace.  Her energy and joie de vivre was so infectious, it seemed as though no one was immune to her charms.  In fact, just yesterday he’d caught Bastien humming one of the pop tunes she loved so much.

Eager to see what was so delighting her, he followed the sound, stopping when he reached the library.  

He pushed the door open and peered inside, the smile fading quickly from his face as he took in the scene before him.

Drake sat in a wing-back chair by the fire, with Riley draped across his shoulder.  They had their heads pressed together as they laughed quietly.  They were so engrossed in one another that they hadn’t even noticed him.  

Liam cleared his throat loudly.  “Don’t you two look cozy.”

Startled, they looked up to find Liam leaning against the door frame gazing at them with a frown on his handsome face.  Riley stood and backed away, quickly putting distance between she and Drake.

“Liam.”  She said with a nervous smile, “You startled me.”

“So I see.”  He spoke to Riley, but his eyes never left Drake.

“We were just watching funny dog videos on my phone.  There’s one of this Corgi that can play piano.  I’ll play if for you…”

“Maybe another time, Lady Riley.” He interrupted, giving her a tight smile, “Right now I need a word with Drake.”  He returned his steely gaze to his friend, “Drake...if you wouldn’t mind.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, Liam turned on his heel and strode from the room.

Drake heaved a heavy sigh and pushed himself out of the chair.

“Well that sounded suspiciously like a royal command.”

“I’m so sorry, Drake.” Riley looked close to tears, “I don’t know what I was thinking.  I shouldn’t have been sitting so close to you.  It was... inappropriate.  I can only imagine what he’s thinking right now.”    

“Relax, Matheson.” He said giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze “I’ll handle it.  Don’t give it a second thought, okay.”

Riley bit her bottom lip anxiously and nodded.  

By the time Drake made it to the hallway, Liam was several feet ahead of him. Drake broke into a jog to catch up before falling into step beside the King.

“Liam…”

Liam held up his hand, silencing him instantly.   Drake snapped his mouth shut, sulking moodily as he followed Liam to his private chambers.

Liam swung the door open and motioned Drake in, slamming it behind them so hard that several pictures on the wall shook.

“SIT.” He commanded

Drake took a seat on the couch in the sitting area, leaning back and propping one ankle on the opposite knee.  

“So.” He drawled, raising a sardonic eyebrow, “Who pissed in your cheerios this morning?”

Liam shot Drake a quelling look as he crossed to the bar at the far end of the room.  He dropped some ice cubes into a tumbler and splashed a liberal amount of whiskey into the glass before returning to stand in front of Drake.

“I don’t suppose that’s for me.”

Their eyes locked and Liam raised the glass to his mouth, taking a long sip.

“Guess not.” Drake muttered.

“Would you like to explain to me what I walked in on just now?”  Liam’s tone was calm, but Drake could see the tell-tale tightening of his jaw.  He was pissed

He shrugged his shoulders meeting Liam’s icy stare with one of his own. “Just a couple friends watching dog videos, that’s all.”

“Is that so?”  Liam’s eyes narrowed slightly as he perched on the edge of his desk. “It was all just innocent fun?  Just friends...sitting by a romantic fire...hanging all over each other... watching YouTube videos?”

Drake cocked his head to the side and grinned at Liam.  “Are you seriously jealous right now?”

Liam gave a harsh laugh, “Of course not.”

“Good.  Because you realize how stupid that would be, right?”  Drake held his hand out and Liam passed the tumbler to him without thinking.

Drake took a sip of whiskey, studying Liam’s intently.  He seemed calmer now, his shoulders relaxed as he leaned back against his desk.

“If you’ll recall, you’re the one who told me to stick close to her.  To get her to trust me.”

“Apparently it’s working.” Liam said wryly

Drake’s face broke into wide grin, “You are jealous!”

The corner of Liam’s mouth twitched as he gave in to an embarrassed smile.  “Maybe just a little.”  

He pushed away from his desk and bent down to cup Drake's face in his hands, enjoying the familiar scrape of his beard against his palms.

“Maybe I don’t like the thought of sharing you with her.” Liam said softly as he guided Drakes lips to his.  He let out an audible sigh when he felt Drakes hand cup the back of his head, his fingers tangling in his hair as their tongues collided.  After a minute Drake pulled his head back and gazed into Liam’s eyes before falling back against the couch with a sigh.  

“You know, if anyone has a reason to be jealous these days, it’s me.”  He took another deep swallow of the amber liquid and handed the glass back to Liam. “This whole suitor situation is complete bullshit.”

“Drake...” Liam said gently. “We’ve discussed this.”

“Yeah Li...we’ve fucking talked it to death,” he said sharply. “That doesn’t make it suck any less.”

Liam hung his head.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to watch those girls fawn over you.” Drake continued, his voice flat, “To watch you flirt with them, kiss them…”  He tilted his head back and sighed at the ceiling, “to listen to you fuck them.”

Liam winced and Drake couldn’t help a little smirk.  “You really should be more discreet.  You know what they’re calling you, right?”

Liam furrowed his brow and shook his head.  

“The Kinky King. Because of your penchant for fucking loudly in places where you know you’ll be caught.”

Liam had the grace to blush.  “You know why I do that.”

“Yeah, yeah.  I know.  To throw everyone off the trail.  To make sure that the courtly gossip focuses on your sexual encounters with the beautiful women of the court rather than your commoner best friend.”  Drake raked his fingers through his hair, his frustration apparent, “I get it.  But like I said, doesn’t make it suck any less.”

Liam leaned over and smoothed Drakes hair back into place, tugging on it a little until Drake looked up at him, his dark eyes clouded with sadness,  “I know this is hard on you, my love.” He said softly, his fingers stroking the back of his neck, “It’s hard for me too.”

“Then put an end to it!” Drake shouted, pulling away, “Marry Liv.  She knows about us and she’s fine with it.  It might even be fun.  I’ve fucked her, you’ve fucked her.  One big happy family, right?”

Liam was already shaking his head, “The people will never support a Nevrakis on the throne, you know this.  Cordonia is already far too unstable.  I need a Queen that will unify the country not plunge it into civil unrest.”

Drake slumped back against the couch in defeat.  Continuing this argument was pointless and he knew he’d never win anyway.  Liam was going to do the right thing, because that’s what Liam did.  He’d sacrifice his own personal happiness for the good of Cordonia.

They sat side by side on the couch, shoulders touching, knees bumping together as they passed the tumbler of whiskey back and forth.

“Damn Leo.” Liam mumbled, “This is all his fault.   If he hadn’t abdicated…”

“Jesus Liam...” Drake groaned, “Not this again.”

“But it’s true!  If Leo had stayed and claimed his birthright…”

“What would’ve changed?”  Drake said wearily, “A big fat nothing, that’s what.”

“That’s not true.  I wouldn’t be forced to marry...to produce heirs.  Everything would be different.”

Drake laughed. “Yeah?  You think we’d be able to be together, out in the open? The Prince and his gay, commoner lover?”  He shook his head, “It would never happen.  Not even if Leo was King.   You have to know that, Li.  What we have now is the best we can ever hope for.”

“It’s not fair.” Liam said softly.

“Nope, it isn’t. But when has life ever been fair?”

Liam stood and crossed to the bar to refill their glass.  On his way back, a picture on his desk caught his eye.  He picked it up and studied it for a minute before turning it around to show Drake.   “Do you remember this day?”

Drake didn’t even have to look to know what Liam was talking about.  It was a picture that Leo had taken of them the day they set sail on an epic adventure at sea.  The day Liam nearly drown.  They were standing side by side arms slung around each others shoulders, grinning like fools.

“Like it was yesterday.”

“You saved my life that day.”

Drake laughed.  “If I hadn’t dragged you out there when a storm was brewing, your life wouldn’t have needed saving.”

Liam smiled and placed the picture back where he found it before joining Drake on the couch again.

Liam gazed at Drake, studying the face he’d loved for more than half of his life.  He saw the little flecks of gold in his eyes that caught the light.   He knew how dark those eyes could turn when he was angry or troubled...or turned on. He ran his thumb over the small creases by his eyes that grew deeper when he smiled.  He hadn’t changed much over the years.  He was still every bit as handsome as he was when they were boys, maybe even more so now.

“Even then I knew I was in love with you.  But you had no idea.”

Drake laughed again. “Don’t kid yourself.  Subtlety has never been your strong suit.  I knew.”

Liam smiled, his eyes sparkling. “You just let me suffer then.”

Drake shifted his body, throwing his arm across the back of the couch as he leaned toward Liam, pressing their mouths together.  “I wasn’t sure how I felt about it yet.” He murmured against Liam’s lips.

The kiss was long and languid, with an underlying heat that could quickly ignite into a wildfire at any moment.  Reluctantly,  Liam pulled away, resting his forehead against Drakes for a moment before sitting back, an indulgent smile on his face. “When did you know?”

Drake smirked at him.  “Do you remember our first kiss?”

“How could I forget?” He said, a wistful expression flitting across his face.  “The summer we turned seventeen.  We were in Lythikos visiting Liv.”

Drake nodded. “She stole a bottle of 100 year old Nevarkis wine and we brought it down to the lake. We all got completely wasted and she convinced us to play truth or dare.”

Liam laughed, “That’s right!  The first of many over the years.”

“She dared you to kiss me.”

Liam nodded. “I never was one to back down from a dare.”  He quirked a brow at Drake, “Remember what happened next?”

Drake nodded and bit his bottom lip, trying to keep from laughing.  “Yeah...I...uh…”

“You fucking punched me.  Split my lip open.  I had to tell Bastien I tripped and landed on a rock.”

Drake smiled sheepishly.  “Yeah.  How many times are you going to make me apologize for that? You kind of sprung it on me.  I wasn’t ready.  I was young, confused…”

“Sleeping with Olivia....” Liam supplied helpfully.

“Yeah, there was that.”  Drake rubbed the back of his neck in agitation.

“And the next day” Liam continued, his voice suddenly thick with emotion, “You were gone.”

“Li…” Drake said softly, his eyes clouded with pain, “C’mon.  Don’t.”

“You ran away, Drake”

“I didn’t run away. I went to college.”

“You took off in the middle of the night and enrolled in a college 3000 miles away.  I call that running away.”

“Ok, Fine.  So maybe I ran.” Drake said with an exasperated sigh, “But I did it because I was really fucking confused.  My best friend kissed me...and I liked it.  I didn’t know what to do with that. All I knew is that up to that point, I was pretty damn into pussy.  I didn’t know what the fuck to do with the feelings I had for you.  So yeah...I ran."

“Don’t run again, Drake.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

Liam reached out to stroke Drake’s stubble covered cheek tenderly.  “Promise?  Because I can see that this is taking a toll on you. I see you retreating...more than usual.”

Drake wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Liam punched him in the shoulder.

“OW!”  Drake glared at him rubbing the spot where a bruise was rapidly forming, “What the fuck was that for?”

“Tell me you aren’t going to leave again.”

“Fine, fine... I won’t leave.” he mumbled with a petulant scowl.

Liam rolled his eyes. “Now say it like you mean it.” He commanded

Drake reached out to yank Liam in for another blistering kiss, his fingers sinking into his hair as their mouths fused together. He curled his tongue around Liam’s and sucked gently, sending a jolt of desire racing through Liam’s body.  Liam brought his hands up to Drakes chest, the fingers of one hand grabbing onto Drake’s shirt while the other slid inside to roam over his tightly muscled abs.  Electricity crackled between them, as it always did, even after all these years.

After a minute Drake pulled his head back and looked down into Liam’s face.  

“I’m not fucking leaving.  I knew when I let Leo bring me back that I’d never find the strength to leave you again.  You’re my weakness, Li.  I love you.”

Liam smiled. “I love you too Drake. Forever.  I don’t want you to worry.  We’ll find a way to make this  work, okay?  I really think she might be the answer we’re looking for.”

“Riley?”

Liam nodded.  “We have a real connection.  I care about her...and I think she feels the same.  But I sense that she’s conflicted.  I think she’s falling for you too.”

“And...” Drake worried his bottom lip between his teeth for a minute before raising his eyes to Liam’s, “You’re okay with that?”

Liam nodded.  “It might work to our advantage.  If she feels some sort of affection for you she might be more willing to...turn a blind eye to our relationship.  She’d make an excellent Queen.  The people love her.  She young and vibrant and outgoing.  Her views and ideal are modern without being radical.  I think she’d be good for Cordonia.”

“I agree.”

“So I need you to help me convince her.”  

Drake’s brows drew together in a deep frown, “What are you suggesting, Li? Do you want me to seduce Riley?”

Liam threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh, “No, of course not.  Nothing so nefarious as that. Just keep doing what you’re doing.  She’s already drawn to you, not that I can blame her.” He reached out to brush a lock of chestnut hair from Drakes eyes, “You’re fairly irresistible when you want to be.”

“Heh. Irresistible huh?  Everyone else tells me I’m cranky.”

“Oh, you definitely are.”  Liam agreed with an affectionate smile, “But it’s endearing.”

“Do you think she’ll still want to be queen when she finds out about us?”

Liam ran his hand over his face and shrugged.  Finding out your betrothed is in love with someone else was usually a deal breaker under the best of circumstances.  Finding out that lover was another man, well...Liam was pragmatic enough to know that Riley may not respond well to the news.

“I don’t know.  But it will have to be a condition that she agrees to before we’re married.   If I do choose her as my queen, she’s going to have to know everything.  Because I’m not giving you up.  Not for her...not for Cordonia...not for anything.”

“What if she doesn’t agree?”

Liam gave a deep, shuddering sigh. “Then I suppose I accept Madeline’s proposed arrangement.”

[harleybeaumont]

Drake Walker Appreciation, Day 5 - Romance

Here are the pairings I've written for Drake! @drake-walker-appreciation:

The Other Nevrakis- Drake x Lilith Nevrakis (my OC) - these two start off as a snarky, cynical, whiskey drinking pair who don't believe in love. By the end, they're a snarky, less cynical, still whiskey drinking couple of smitten idiots in love 😍

Unintentional - Drake x Riley - though not the main pairing in this fic, Drake and Riley are amazing friends to Liam, who in this story, needs loyal friends more than anything! And we know Drake is devoted to his friendship with his childhood best friend!

Between Friends - Drake x Maxwell - this was a one shot I wrote where Drake explores his bisexuality with the help of his friend, Max. (Who turns out to be more than a friend by the end.) We all know Drake can be a bit serious, but sometimes it's good to have a partner to help bring you out of your shell and learn to have a little fun and relax!

Love Me The Way I Am - Drake x Liam - they are only a minor part of the story, but I see the two of them as a couple in this fic. Having to hide their love from the rest of the court, these two explore the old friends to lovers trope (which I LOVE). They are such an angsty pairing, and I adore writing and reading them.

[kingliam2019]

HELP

I've been going through my archives (hence all the old reblogs). I'm looking for a story where Liam and Drake are Lovers but Liam marries for the Crown and Country and Drakes moves to Texas, Liam follows him but see's him with a woman. Liam moves on with his life and both Liam and Drakes kids are at university in Texas ans Ellie arranges for a dinner to intro Jackson to her parents, not knowing who she is or who her parents are.

[resetmypatientviolence]

totally forgot I wrote a Drake x Liam fic.

Shits hot yet so angsty.

[jerzwriter]

Why was it so hard to control himself when he was around her?

Love, baby. It's a killer.

He was sure it was obvious to everyone, but he couldn’t drag his gaze away from her. She managed to look sexy even while eating, how was that possible? Every thing she did was adorable.

Boys got it bad.

She was wearing a pair of incredibly short shorts and a Yankees t-shirt.

She is perfect. Just sayin'. lol

You’re still in love with Liam and he’s in love with you and he’s better for you than I am

It all comes down to this for him - this and his loyalty to his best friend. Ah, the angst!

His heart twisted. She loved him?

🫠🫠🫠

“I love you, Riley. I love you so fucking much it hurts. καρδιά μου.”

AND YOU END IT WITH GREEK TO BOOT!!!! AAGGGH. Love it!

LOVED LOVED LOVED LOVED LOVED this chapter! AAAGGGH you did such a great job of conveying their inner thoughts and emotions, especially Drake! I love the "I'm in love and I don't know what to fucking do with this" trope, and this one was served beautifully!

Why did I wait so long to read this?????

I am literally dying to get to Hinge! lol

Complicated Part 5: Whiskey Confessions

Series: Complicated

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Liam x Riley, Drake x Riley

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, adult themes

My other stuff: Master List.

Drake stood under the shower hoping the hot water pounding on his back and shoulders would wash all his guilt away. Last night he had come dangerously close to crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed.

As if Liam would feel any better about it knowing that you stopped just this side of that line, he thought to himself. Why was it so hard to control himself when he was around her? He shook his head as he turned the water off and stepped out, reaching for a towel. He knew what the problem was. The problem was that now, unlike before, she wanted him back. He groaned out loud at the thought, the memory of her body underneath him, her nails raking down his back. It had been much easier to resist his feelings when she hadn’t wanted him too.

He towel dried his hair then used his fingers to comb it. Two memories from the day kept running through his head. One of her kissing Liam in the hot tub. That one caused his chest to ache. He had wanted to stride over there and pull her into his arms. He reminded himself that she belonged with Liam, she was in love with Liam.

Keep reading

[dulusionalapocaliose]

I desperately need crazy unhinged bossgirl woman and their pathetic man representation. And by that I mean intelligent, ambitious, unhinged, disgustingly educated but hyperfeminine, that knows how to fight magnifically and are mad science smart queens that would do what is needed to get what they want and need, and their husband/boyfriend supporting and following them around like lovesick puppies.

[tessa-liam]

Royal Adventures 

-Prologue- 

Book: Choices, The Royal Romance Series Finale +     A Smoke & Mirrors Series Alternate Universe

Pairing: King Liam Rys x F!MC Queen Riley Brooks-Rys OTP 

Rating: Teen, not beta’d-please excuse all errors    

Category: On-going series, fluff 

Warnings: a few swear words 

Most Characters belong to Pixelberry 

Music Inspiration: I Want It That Way, Backstreet Boys 

Series Inspiration: Royal Misadventures, A Smoke & Mirrors 1-shot 

Smoke & Mirrors Masterlist

My Main Masterlist

Series Premise: A collection of stories of the journey 12-year-old Crown Princess Eleanor Rys of Cordonia indertakes as she officially starts her Royal education. Tutors and advisors, that had been personally selected by Their Majesties King Liam Rys and Queen Riley Rys, were set to begin her royal lessons, and her days were packed full of knowledge. The young princess was a natural leader, and the King and Queen could not be more proud of their daughter.   

Royal Adventures 

-Prologue- 

Busy days turned into busy evenings when Ellie Rys enjoyed her free time. As a 12-year-old, her parents wanted her to enjoy her childhood as long as she could, but the Crown Princess' life was going to change forever when she would reach her coming of age, and she would be required to take her place at court, as her father had taken previously. 

Ellie knew her parents had a strong bond, and their love for one another was the reason their country had remained at peace for well over a decade. The Princess had always felt safe and secure, knowing she was loved and cherished. 

Ellie didn't have a typical royal upbringing and was a carefree and happy child.  Liam was more than happy that his children had an American mother as a role model, that grew up in a world of freedom.

She didn't have the same pressures that other royal children had, but the pressure would eventually start to mount in the next few years as she would grow older and need to learn more about the world and her duties of a future Queen.

Liam and Riley made it a point to ensure their kids were well-adjusted and had a happy childhood. 

They'd taken trips all over the world, and their favorite place was New York, where they'd visited during the last Christmas season. 

Ellie had seen the Rockefeller Center Tree, the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, and the Staten Island Ferry. However, what she enjoyed the most was the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and the Broadway musical 'Wicked'. 

She'd been mesmerized by the performances and sang along to the music. Liam and Riley couldn't help but chuckle at their daughter's enthusiasm. 

"What?" she'd asked innocently, with her big blue eyes and her cute dimples. 

"You remind me of myself at your age," Liam replied, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her close. 

"I can't wait until we go back to New York," she'd exclaimed, as the family flew back to Cordonia on their private jet.

"Me either, Princess, but we'll make sure you have many more happy memories at home," Liam said, and planted a kiss on the top of her head. 

*** 

Liam walked into his study, after he escorted Ellie to the royal library for her first royal lesson. As he watched his daughter attentively listen and interact with the history tutor, the pride he felt was all consuming. He couldn't believe his little girl was growing up so fast. It seemed like only yesterday when he and Riley were watching their newborn daughter take her first steps. 

It was later in the afternoon when he looked up from his laptop to see Riley's soft smile as she walked in and closed the door behind her. 

"Hello, love. How was Ellie's lesson?" Liam stood and walked around his desk to greet his wife with a kiss.

"It was great, Li ... she's a natural. The tutor was impressed." Riley grinned as Liam smiled wide.

"Of course, she is. She's a Rys." 

"She's just like her father. Always eager to learn new things," Riley teased, kissing him softly in return. 

"And her mother. Ellie has the heart of a fighter, and she's smart, brave, and kind." 

"I hope she's ready for all of this. It's a lot to handle."  Riley sighed, biting her lip.

"She will be. She's surrounded by love and support, and we will always be here for her." 

*** 

Ellie's first day was going well, until ....

Leo had a mischievous grin on his face as he crept towards the library. 

"Leo, what are you up to?" Maxwell asked as he noticed him peering through the gap between the double solid oak doors of the Royal library.

"SSHHH! ... You'll see," he replied in a hushed tone.

"Come on, man, don't pull anything stupid," Drake warned him as he walked up to join Maxwell.

"Just watch and learn, boys." 

Leo peeked through the space and saw the tutor reading a textbook to Ellie. He knew it would only be a few minutes before the lesson was over, and he had to act fast. 

He reached into his bag and pulled out a remote control.

Leo found a way to sneak a glitter bomb into the library without anyone noticing earlier in the day. He'd done it a million times at parties, and he knew it would create a big mess. 

"This is going to be epic," he muttered. 

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Drake whispered.

"Oh, come on, Drake, it's harmless. I've done this tons of times. Watch and learn, boys. " 

"Fine, we'll see," Maxwell shrugged. 

Leo took a deep breath, and with one flick of his wrist, the balloon was triggered and exploded with a loud pop.

As it burst, the glitter covered everything, and the sound of the balloon burst startled everyone. 

The tutor had a look of horror on her face, and Eleanor was shocked, standing up and moving quickly away from the table.

"Oh no," Leo whispered. 

"This is not what I was expecting. Shit." 

"Well, you better think of something quick," Drake shouted.

Through the gap in the door, Ellie spotted her uncle. Her brow furrowed, she pushed the heavy oak door forward.

"I can't believe you, Uncle Leo," Eleanor scowled, "you've ruined my first royal lesson." 

"I'm sorry, El, it was supposed to be a harmless prank." Leo looked at his neice regretfully.

"Well, you ruined everything. I can't even look at you right now. " 

"I'm so sorry. I was just trying to make things fun. I was always bored in these sessions, and I was just trying to lighten the mood." 

"You are the worst Uncle, ever, you know that?"

Leo raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "Oh, come on Ellie, you know it's all in good fun." Ellie was fuming, "Uncle Leo, you've made me feel awful, and I can't believe you would embarrass me like that."  

"Hey...hey, Ellie, don't be upset. You have nothing to be ashamed of." 

"Really? How can you say that after what you did? I want Daddy to be proud of me. I want it that way!" 

Crossing her arms, Ellie stared down her uncle, smirking, "wait till mom finds out!" 

"Wait, you wouldn't. Not your favorite uncle," Leo pleaded. 

"Maybe, maybe not, depends how you behave from now on." 

"Alright, I'll do anything, just don't tell your parents." 

"Anything?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"I will not be your servant again, though."  Leo thought back to an earlier prank gone wrong, and shuddered.

"Then don't mess with my lessons again! Deal?" 

"Deal."  Leo sighed.

Drake and Maxwell were speechless as they watched their friend and their niece, banter with each other.

"Wow, El, you've got your uncle Leo wrapped around your little finger."

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Max. I'm a reformed man." Leo admonished.

"Yeah, whatever you say, Leo." Drake snorted.

"Okay, okay, free drinks at the beer garden. Now ... are you two going to help me clean up or not?"

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

📌tagging my perma's in the notes❣️

📌please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this series❣️

[cordonianroyalairlines]

Staking a Claim

Series: Cordonian Royal Airlines

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Various

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Drake

Word Count: 2,340

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Language mostly

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

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

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

Liam grunted in consternation. “Drake!”

Drake spun back around, “What?”

“What is your malfunction?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ow! Fuck!” Liam grabbed his forehead.

“Sorry, sorry!”

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

“No!”

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

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

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

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

“Which ones?” Drake asked.

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

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

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

“I don’t!” Drake glared at them both.

Hana giggled as she backed out of the cockpit.

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

“Who?”

“The guy! In 12B.”

“How would I know?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Because then she’ll know I care!”

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

“I mean she’ll think I care!”

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

“I don’t follow.”

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

“I’m not going out there.”

“Okay.”

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

“Sure you do.”

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

“Sure you did.”

“Fuck you. I’m going to take a piss.”

“Great. Tell Riley I said hi.”

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

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

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

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

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

Not CEO money.

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

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

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

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

“I said I’m fine!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The guy reached out and grabbed her arm.

She flinched away.

Oh hell no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“But, Riley—”

“We have nothing to talk about, Nick!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why would I be jealous?”

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

“I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah? Really?”

“Yeah, really!”

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

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

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

“So?”

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

“Oh.”

“Yeah…oh!”

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

“What?”

“I mean….if you want me to.”

“I…”

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

“You don’t?”

Did she sound hopeful?

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

Except with you.

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

“So, we’re good?”

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

“Okay, good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?”

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

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

Drake kept quiet but his foot started tapping nervously.

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

“Ah…”

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

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Come on, what else?”

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

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

“Why does this make you so happy?”

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

“It’s not even a real date.”

“Sure it’s not.”

“It’s not!”

“Does she know that?”

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

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

“Yeah…so?”

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

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

He was absolutely a goner.

And he was going to have to buy a suit.

Shit.

[kristinamae093]

Ghosted

Ghosted - The Apple Banquet (Chapter 7)

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 MC (Riley Brooks)

A/N1 - This AU starts right before the beginning of the engagement tour. There is a two-month lapse between the coronation and where we pick up, but we will stray from canon. Please excuse any errors found.

Characters belong to Pixelberry

The Apple Banquet was set to begin inside the ballroom of the Applewood Estate momentarily. The entire country was excited, as it was the first one to take place since Constantine wed Regina. All of the nobility gathered to witness the bride and groom share an apple from the year’s first harvest before the wedding.

The wedding, Liam scoffed at the thought. After they found all of Riley’s things a few days ago, he completely changed his view point on the scandal and her disappearance. He spent all this time believing she left to be with someone else, but he began to see the situation from a different light.

It seems the more he learns about Riley’s last night here, the more he believes she was forced away.

Liam learned of Riley retiring early from Maxwell, so they had a solid timeframe where someone could have gotten her out of the estate undetected and the maid to pack and move her things. He felt a sense of relief when the maid reiterated that she was not seen leaving with Tariq, but another man. Of course, he wished she would have been able to identify the unknown person, but in a way, his heart swelled knowing she didn’t leave with Tariq, although it opened a world of other unanswered questions.

Bastien had been searching for Tariq and Riley but had no luck in locating either thus far. The last trace of Riley was landing from her flight in New York, the morning after the Country Jamboree. From there, her trail runs cold. There was no trace of Tariq after his arrival to Applewood whatsoever; there wasn’t even a record of a car coming to pick him up from the estate that night. They had both simply vanished into thin air, like a ghost.

Without either of them, Liam was clueless as to how to proceed further. The few clues they had were just that, clues. There was nothing prominent enough to place blame anywhere. Riley's room had been cleared, not a trace to be found. Nothing was spotted outside, no predominant leads were found in the shed, aside from the dress and the piece of mail. Much to everyone's dismay, Bastien confirmed that he disposed of Riley's phone and the letter left in the room, so no comparison could be done. Liam took blame for everything and felt helpless, there was nothing more he could do; but he felt he had to put on his Kingly facade and continue as if nothing was amiss, at least for the time being.

However, Liam felt the time constricting on him. He was set to marry Madeleine in just a few short weeks, and he didn’t have a clue as to what he was going to do about that. Although he knew it was his duty to marry and produce heirs, he didn’t know if he could marry Madeleine just to appease the nobility, especially now that he knew someone potentially plotted to put her on the throne.

More than that, after they found Riley’s bloodied dress, Liam felt a renewed sense of urgency about locating her; he needed to see that she was unharmed. Of course he wanted nothing more than to hopefully bring her back and ultimately make her his Queen, but he didn’t want to get too far ahead of himself. Just seeing with his own two eyes that she is okay would suffice him, although it would break his heart all over again.

As Liam stood on the dias next to Madeleine greeting all of the court’s nobles, he couldn’t help but look at everyone as if they were a suspect. Although the maid said she saw Riley with a man in a suit, every single person there could have benefitted from getting rid of her; he was aware of the fact that Riley was a commoner and not everyone would be okay with having her as a Queen. Furthermore, Liam was sure it was a hired person who escorted Riley away; he knew his nobles were not stupid, but conniving and malicious. They wouldn’t risk getting their hands dirty, especially with something of that magnitude considering she would have been his selection. That meant the suspect list was open to all of the nobility at this point.

“Liam? Are you even listening to me?!” Madeleine snapped.

“No, I’m not.” Liam retorted. He realized the other nobles were lining up behind the double doors, a sure signal that they were about to be announced into the ballroom with his Father and Regina at the head. He turned away from Madeleine and headed toward the line of people. He took his position in the back of the procession, as tradition dictated. He squared his shoulders, stood to his full height, and waited.

“Penelope!” Madeleine snapped her fingers. “My train!”

Liam silently scoffed as he watched Penelope scurry over and take position behind Madeleine. He saw her struggling to keep up with Madeleine’s pace, but she never once let that train touch the ground.

As they reached Liam’s position, Madeleine shooed Penelope away before she turned to Liam. “Cute. I don’t know what your deal is but you need to knock it off.”

“Or what?” Liam snapped as he turned to face her.

“I’m sure I can think of something.”

“Are you threatening me?”

Madeleine indignantly laughed. “No, darling, whatever would make you think that?” She feigned innocence.

Liam stepped closer to her and lowered his voice to where only she could hear. “I told you, I'm not playing whatever game it is that you are trying to play. You'd do well to remember that you are not the Queen, not yet… I hold that power, so I would advise you to tread carefully, Countess.” He hissed through clenched teeth.

Liam found himself on edge; he was not in the mood to deal with Madeleine, or anyone else for that matter. This is the last place he wanted to be, and he was not about to let Madeleine try and boss him around or assert whatever dominance she thought she held over him.

Liam stood back up and adjusted his lapels. Madeleine’s face turned a hundred shades of crimson, but she returned her attention to the line in front of her. She attempted to thread her arm through Liam’s, but he pulled away. At a nod from the herald, the doors swung open and Liam strode inside with Madeleine walking closely beside him.

They were led by a servant to a banquet table adorned with a white lace tablecloth. A wooden stand sat in the middle of the table with a bright red cordonian ruby sitting atop it, beside the apple was a knife with a black handle and gold trim.

Liam took his position behind the table next to Madeleine and directed his attention to his father, who had taken place in front of the table with a champagne flute of cider in hand.

"The sharing of a Cordonian ruby dates back to the times of King Fabian. At that time, the King and Queen would not share cake when they wed, but instead a Cordonian ruby. The monarchy has since modernized, but this tradition is to honor those who have paved the way before us.

We gather here today to celebrate not only another year's bountiful harvest, but the matrimony that these two will share. Although no vows will be exchanged here today, the symbolism remains the same."

Constantine stopped his speech as applause filled the air. He waited for a few moments before he raised his hand to quiet the crowd and continued. "We have a bright future ahead of us as a country. I have no doubt in my mind that these two will lead us with distinction and grace, just as the Kings and Queens before them. We will not only thrive under their rule, but prosper." He lifted his glass in the air. "To King Liam and our soon to be Queen, Countess Madeleine."

The crowd all raised their glasses and echoed the former King's sentiments. Liam and Madeleine then each cut a slice from the apple and ate it to complete the needless ceremony. Liam grew up loving the Cordonian ruby and was incredibly proud of his heritage, but that particular apple tasted incredibly tart and bitter. It took all of his willpower not to scrunch his face as the tangy, sour flavor overcame his taste buds.

Liam was forced to stand for photographs with Madeleine before he could take a moment for himself. He didn't smile, but instead just started blankly into space past the camera. Madeleine was positioned at a slight angle in front of him and he made it a point to put as much space between them as he could and still get a 'natural’ looking portrait.

Once pictures were finished, Liam made a beeline for the bar and ordered himself a scotch on the rocks; he needed something to calm his dangerously high stress levels. As his drink was delivered to him, he felt a hand on his back. He turned around to find Drake. “How you holding up?”

“I’m not, Drake. I haven’t slept, I don’t want to be here. I need to be looking for them, for her; I have to find her.” Liam said before he downed his drink in one gulp and motioned to the bartender for another.

Drake stepped forward and signaled for a whiskey as the bartender refilled Liam’s glass. As he waited he addressed Liam. “I know this is hard on you especially. But, for now, you gotta just play along. Make ‘em think you’re really gonna go through with the wedding.”

“It's just around the corner. There's not a lot of time…”

“Don’t think about that. Right now, our focus is this investigation. We just need a little bit more to go off of, and we’re going to find it, Li. However, that means you gotta pretened to be a pretentious stick in the mud to appease all these ass wipes for a little bit…” Drake smirked as he took a sip from his drink and looked around the room.

Liam half-laughed. “I know you’re right. This is the best option, at least for now.” He shook his head and looked into his drink. “I’m just having a hard time being diplomatic when I know that someone very likely in this room is responsible for hurting the woman I love.”

Drake patted Liam on the back. “I know. But, just think, when all this is said and done and we figure out who did this, you’re gonna get to go full blown King on that mutherfucker! Goddamn I can’t wait for that!” Drake exclaimed with a huge smile on his face.

Liam laughed, for real this time. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy, even when I got you that international whiskey subscription for your birthday.”

“Man, I should order another one of those, that Hakushu Single Malt was to die for.” Drake responded as he took a drink of the whiskey in his hand, imagining it was the japanese liquor.

“Maybe when this is all said and done I can get you a whole case of that.” Liam chuckled when Drake’s eyes widened, but he soon sighed and looked out at the crowd in front of them. “I suppose I should circulate the room, pretend I want to be here. But thank you for lifting my spirits.”

“What I’m here for.” Drake replied as he lifted his glass to Liam, who returned the gesture and downed a large drink after. Liam shook his hand before he turned and made his way through the crowded room.

As he turned away, Liam saw some lesser nobles and the suitors he hadn’t chosen, minus Olivia, who was not yet joining the tour officially. At first glance, he noticed Lady Hana was not present. He was unsure if an invitation had been extended or not, but made a mental note to find out. He shook his head and looked away as he observed Penelope dabbing Madeleine’s mouth with a napkin. She trailed behind holding her drink, even going as far as bringing the glass to Madeleine's lips.

Liam continued through the room, stopping on occasion to shake a hand and exchange pleasantries. He spotted his Father and Regina as they glided throughout the ballroom together. Even though Constantine hadn’t been given much time to live, he insisted on being present throughout the tour. Liam told him he didn’t need to accompany them on the entire route, but Constantine was stubborn and was outside with everyone else when it was time for the motorcade to leave the capitol.

As Liam made his way to the other side of the room, he noticed Bertrand and Maxwell in a secluded alcove. Bertrand waved his finger in Maxwell’s face and Maxwell had his gaze trained to the floor in front of him. Bertrand’s body was turned slightly away from Liam, but he could still see his reddened face and it appeared he spoke so fast he hadn't even stopped for a breath.

Liam decided he needed to intervene and walked toward the pair. He cleared his throat as he approached them. Bertrand turned with wide eyes and bowed to Liam.

“Is everything alright?” Liam asked.

“Oh, yes, of course Your Majesty. We were just discussing House business.” Bertrand replied as he slid his eyes over to Maxwell with an irritated expression.

“That’s not what appeared to be happening. It looks as though you were once again berating Maxwell when I specifically told you to lay off of him.”

“I understand that. However, I learned today from a potential business partner that Maxwell left the estate when he should have been awaiting their call! We didn't secure that deal because he decided he had something more important to do!” Bertrand exasperated as he kept his steely gaze trained on Maxwell.

Maxwell finally looked up to meet eyes with Liam. Liam knew that Maxwell snuck away from the estate to meet Drake and Olivia before the tour started; he also knew that Maxwell had not told Bertrand about their investigation, per Liam's request. Instead, he continued to let Bertrand berate him and place blame on him for their houses' tanked reputation and financial crisis.

What Liam saw in Maxwell’s gaze was complete devastation, he knew judging from his defeated expression he was starting to break. And Liam couldn’t blame him, he had put up with Bertrand's rants daily for months.

Although Liam wasn’t entirely sure if he should, he couldn’t bear to watch his friend be torn down to nothing and let it happen; it was time to set Bertrand straight.

Bertrand began again. “He’s continuously shown his irresponsibility! You can’t pick a suitor, you can’t answer a phone, what can you do, then?! I am this close to–”

“Enough.” Liam said in a quiet but stern tone as he held up his hand to stop Bertrand from his tirade.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, I forget myself–”

“No. You are not going to berate Maxwell any longer as if this is his fault: it is not. As far as him missing your 'important' phone call, I happen to know where he was and who he was with, and that meeting was far more important, I assure you.” Liam bit out.

Bertrand grew confused. “What? I don’t understand, what meeting? Why didn’t you tell me about this meeting?” He asked Maxwell.

“I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone…” Maxwell quietly answered, avoiding eye contact.

“What does that even mean?!”

Liam quickly looked behind him to the crowded ballroom and decided it was too risky to talk there. He motioned for Maxwell and Bertrand to follow him and led them down a hallway close by. He stopped at a nondescript door and ushered them inside.

As he faced them, Liam addressed Bertrand, specifically. “Duke Beaumont, I’d first off like to say that you should be ashamed of how you’ve treated Maxwell as of recent. Let's not forget, you didn’t even select a suitor to begin with.”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty–”

Liam held up his hand to stop him. “I’m not interested in your excuses, nor your apologies. Those are not meant for me, anyway.” Liam looked to Maxwell with a sad expression, then back to Bertrand. “I just wanted you to understand that your King is incredibly disappointed in your horrific behavior, which you had no reason for.”

“No reason?! Sir, I have every reason to be upset! Maxwell brought that… that… harlot here and she–”

“You are two seconds away from finding yourself in the cells. I know you don’t know the truth, but I’d advise you to watch your tone.” Liam hissed through clenched teeth.

“The truth? What truth is there to know? We all know what happened–”

“I have officially opened an investigation into Lady Riley’s disappearance.”

Bertrand’s eyes bulged from the sockets. “D-Disapperance?!”

Liam told Bertrand about what they had learned so far and where they were at with the investigation, as well as his suspicions of Riley being forced to leave. He told him about the shed they found, as well as the bloodied dress and letter inside.

When Liam was finished, he and Maxwell watched as Bertrand slowly walked over to a chair and sunk himself down into it. He clasped his hands together and stared in front of him for a long while. Liam and Maxwell didn’t say a word, just observed as a plethora of emotions crossed Bertrand’s features.

Finally, Bertrand spoke. He kept his gaze to the floor in front of him, “So… she was set up?” he whispered.

“We believe so, yes.” Liam answered.

Bertrand broke into sobs. Maxwell quickly crossed the room and crouched in front of Bertrand. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but we’re going to figure this out! We’re going to fix this!” Maxwell promised him as tears of his own streamed down his face.

Bertrand shook his head and looked away from Maxwell. “While I’m upset she was set up, I’m mostly ashamed of how I’ve treated you since... I’ve blamed you and berated you this whole time, and you were never at fault. You never once challenged me in all the atrocious things I said about you, you just… allowed me to do it…” He tried to swallow the overwhelming lump in his throat and quietly asked, “Did you know about Lady Riley? This whole time?”

Maxwell shook his head and quietly responded, “I only found out before the tour, although I will admit I didn’t know when I snuck out.” He looked away. “I had my doubts about it though… But you were so mad at me and I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“Maxwell… I-I’m so sorry...” Bertrand shook his head as more tears flowed down his cheeks. “You didn’t deserve any of that treatment. I can’t believe I’ve acted this way…”

Maxwell inched closer. “It’s okay, Bertrand!”

“No, it’s not okay. I treated you so… maliciously, as if you weren’t my own flesh and blood.” Bertrand wiped at his cheeks and looked Maxwell directly in the eye. “I’ll never forgive myself.”

Maxwell leaned forward and embraced Bertrand; he squeezed him as tight as he could. Even though Maxwell was still indeed hurt from Bertrand’s harsh words, he didn’t want to see him beat himself up over it. All he wanted to do was to move forward and put this entire mess behind them. Ultimately, all Maxwell wanted was to clear his best friend’s name and bring her home to make the family complete again.

“I love you Bertrand, and if I forgive you, you have to forgive yourself. You’ve been under so much pressure since Dad got sick, and I know I’ve always added to your problems. And then to lose our suitor at the very end of the season…” Maxwell took a deep breath to steady himself and continued. “You were under a lot of stress, and it was technically my fault for bringing her here to begin with, so…”

“No.” Bertrand firmly said as he pulled himself from Maxwell’s embrace, “You are not to blame here whatsoever Maxwell… In fact, I may be more at fault here than you..." He took a deep breath and quietly said, "I – I'm afraid I may need to come clean about something…"

Maxwell immediately moved and stood next to Liam with a furrowed brow. Liam felt his heart rate increase and stepped forward instantly. "What do you mean?"

"I – I worry you may find out anyway during your investigation, and I feel after my other atrocious actions I may as well come clean and take my punishment."

Bertrand was suddenly yanked up from his seat by Liam's strong hands. Liam held Bertrand by the collar of his sweater and pulled his face to eye level, nearly lifting him off his feet. "What did you do?"

Maxwell stepped forward to intervene, but Bertrand held a hand out to stop him. As he spoke, his eyes never left Liam's steely gaze. "Don't. I deserve whatever may come." He took a deep breath and told them about going through Maxwell’s phone and selling the photos from Liam's bachelor party. Bertrand realized if Liam found out on his own, his fate would be ten times worse than whatever he would be facing now. To hopefully spare himself, he was willing to come clean.

The longer Bertrand spoke, the more Maxwell's shock intensified; he couldn't believe Bertrand stooped so low. Liam saw red; he yanked Bertrand closer and growled, "You fucking snake."

"I understand your anger, sir–"

"Did you do it? Did you set her up?" Liam slightly shook Bertrand. "Did you force her to leave?!"

Bertrand's eyes widened once more. "No! My indiscretions were toward the beginning of the social season, and I changed my view on her! I believed in her until–"

"Why? Why do it then?!" Liam shook Bertrand harder, audibly tearing his vest in the process, but Liam was quick to bunch up more fabric to keep his hold intact.

"I assumed she wouldn't last and I was desperate for the money." Bertrand quickly spat out.

"So you not only sold your suitor out, but you sold me out as well? For profit?" Bertrand didn't respond, only nodded his head with shame etched in his features.

At that moment, every single thing that happened over the past couple of days combined with this newly added betrayal sent Liam overboard. He tightened his grip on Bertrand’s vest and pulled, ripping it down the middle with ease and leaving it dangling like the jacket over it. Bertrand stumbled backwards but was given no time to react before a fist connected with his jaw, the popping sound echoing throughout the room. Bertrand dropped to the floor with a yelp cradling his face as he frantically prepared himself for the next blow. Maxwell wanted to help, but he was frozen in fear at seeing the look of pure rage in Liam's features.

Liam stared down at Bertrand through narrowed eyes with heavy breaths. "Your actions are making me question whether or not you are truly fit for the title of Duke. To not only exploit your suitor, but your future King?" He stalked toward Bertrand, who was scooting backward across the floor.

The moment was interrupted by a stern knock. Without notice the door swung open and Bastien rushed inside. He quickly approached Liam and said, “Sir, we need to get you to the safe room, now.” and placed his hand on him to begin leading him away.

“What, why?!” Liam questioned as he attempted to evade Bastien’s grip.

“There’s been a body found.”

Liam forcefully stomped his feet on the ground. “What?! Do you know who it was? What happened?”

“Sir, I don’t know a lot of information right now, but I have to get you to safety before I can go secure the area.”

“Where was it?”

Bastien remained silent for a long moment. He looked as if he didn’t want to answer, but once he saw Liam’s budding impatience he finally spoke. “The west grounds, sir.”

While Liam was locked away in the guarded safe room with Madeleine, her parents, Constantine and Regina, Olivia and Drake were on their way to examine the crime scene with Bastien. The royal family had a secured area inside all the major estates for this purpose, although houses were available nearby. However, those were only used in drastic scenarios such as terrorist threats or assassination attempts. Since there was no signs someone was attempting to target the nobility, Bastien assured them they would be safe there while he and the guard did an initial investigation.

Olivia was not yet ready to join the tour on an official standpoint. She knew the time would come when she would have to, but right now she was only stalking in the shadows looking for any kind of information. Only a select few knew of her presence and she intended to keep it that way until absolutely necessary.

Olivia went back and searched Riley’s room again to ensure nothing was missed and returned to the shed to retrieve the contaminated dress. As her initial shock faded, she realized that was a prominent clue laying right in front of their faces. She went back and grabbed the article at the start of the Apple Banquet while everyone was distracted. She intended to give the item to Bastien, but when he found her and informed her of the crime committed she sprung into action and followed along, the dress momentarily forgotten.

As they walked along the path she immediately realized where they were headed; the shed she had visited just a few hours prior where Riley's things were hidden. From the front, everything appeared as it was when Olivia visited the area. Her anxiety increased as Bastien approached the structure, but he veered to the left and led them to the back, which she was nowhere near during her earlier venture.

Guards scoured all around, some people in lab coats were taking pictures, multiple evidence markers lay on the ground near the area. As her eyes searched over the vicinity, she couldn’t help but feel like it seemed incredibly – tame, for what she was guessing had happened.

Propped against the back wall of the shed was a lifeless body. Upon first glance, the cause of death was undoubtedly clear; the victim's throat had been slashed nearly from ear to ear. Olivia grew up around weapons and knew exactly what kind of damage her skills could do. As she gazed upon the gruesome gash, she immediately knew that wound was deep and absolutely intentional; whoever did this did not hesitate whatsoever. Furthermore, the face was severely battered; both eyes were swollen shut and painted every shade of black, as well as a severely broken nose. She stared at the battered face for only a moment before a small gasp escaped Olivia as recognition swept over her; it was the maid they had spoken with only a few days prior.

Olivia’s widened eyes traveled down the body and she was unable to tell if there could be more wounds on the maid’s chest and abdomen, or if the coat of blood was due to her fatal injury. However, that’s where Olivia’s suspicions sky rocketed; the body was covered in a heavy layer of blood, but the ground around her had nothing.

“Walker, come here.” Olivia beckoned. Drake walked over to her with furrowed brows as Olivia stood. “Tell me I’m crazy, but there’s absolutely no blood around that body.”

“Huh…” Drake answered as he looked around. “You’re right. Hey Bas!” He hollered over his shoulder. Bastien appeared within an instant with a pen and pad in hand. “Have you noticed how there’s no blood here?”

“Hmm…” Bastien glanced down at the area with an unreadable expression before he nodded and wrote something down. “I’ve added it to my notes. Do be sure to let me know if you notice anything else. The more information we have, the sooner we can find an answer.”

“Are we just going to ignore the gigantic elephant in the room?" Olivia motioned to the shed. “This is no coincidence. Who this is, where she’s at, the fact that I'm certain this body was placed here specifically…”

Drake’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Holy shit–”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “I’m going to start charging if I have to keep spelling everything out for you.”

Bastien spoke before Drake could retort, “I hadn’t made that connection; excellent work Duchess.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow and watched Bastien jot something yet again on his pad. “Okay, him I understand needing a preschool explanation, you on the other hand should’ve made that connection instantly.” She snapped as she continued to eye him critically.

Bastien was slightly taken back, but quickly recovered himself. “I understand your frustration. However, I’m becoming aware of developments at the same rate as you. I’m grateful for your assistance.” He bowed to her. As he stood he addressed the pair, “I’m going to secure the perimeter.”

Olivia watched him leave with narrowed eyes. He went over to a guard and spoke quietly then aimlessly walked around the area. Every now and again he would write something down, but otherwise he only made laps. She knew Bastien was senseless at times, but he almost seemed more so than normal.

For the first time, she took a good look around and again couldn’t help but notice how everything seemed conveniently placed. The yellow evidence markers were almost in a straight line in clustered areas. She approached one and bent down to observe and saw it was a wad of hair; not one single hair, a bunched up ball of long, dark hair. Another was simply a piece of gum; she was no criminal mastermind, but who in their right mind would spit their gum out in the middle of a vicious murder? Of course, it’s possible to be unrelated, but this area was practically of no use; that is until Riley’s things were shoved here. Regardless, Bastien still continued to search the area as if this was a normal crime scene and nothing was amiss.

As she scanned the area, the sudden realization of what was going on on a broader spectrum hit her; whoever orchestrated getting Madeleine on the throne was surely onto the fact that they were now asking questions. It was a silent agreement that whoever managed to remove the top two suitors from the social season was a powerful force, but it suddenly seemed much stronger and deadlier than before. This entire scene was pieced together to send a message; someone knew, and whoever it was was not happy about their venture for answers.

Olivia pulled Drake aside and spoke in a low, cautious tone. “We need to get out of here.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Look around, Drake! Even you have to notice something does not add up! This was fucking staged – someone is trying to send us a message.”

“We gotta tell Bas–”

“Why? So he can write it down?” Olivia rolled her eyes. “We need to plan our next steps… our next move has to be calculated.” She looked around with a nervous expression. As she did, her eyes landed on Bastien who simply nodded and returned to his grazing.

Tags (please let me know if you'd like added or removed): @choicesficwriterscreations @ao719 @txemrn @imashybish @queenrileyrose @kingliam2019 @riseandshinelittleblossom @dcbbw @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @amandablink @cordonia-gothqueen @sfb123 @jared2612 @harleybeaumont @bebepac @charlotteg234 @busywoman @malblk21 @angelasscribbles @bascmve01 @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @mysticalfangirl @umccall71 @fuckitweball0000 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @lovingchoices14 @emersyn-in-cordonia @aussiegurl1234 @karahalloway @the0afnan

[fadingreveries]

The Royal Romance, Bk1 Ch2: Welcome to Cordonia (Pt. 4)

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

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

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

Word Count:

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

~ ~ ~

After quickly unpacking a few of her belongings, Riley made her way out of her assigned room on a mission to explore the palace boutique’s options. Luckily for her, Maxwell had told her that the store was located on the ground floor near the front entrance.

A few minutes later, Riley pushed past the doors into the boutique. The soft pink walls contrasted nicely with the brown mahogany floors and the light gray floor rug covering the entire ground. A silver chandelier with bell-shaped glass shades hung directly in the middle of the room. Several mannequins dressed in various formal attire for men and women were scattered across the rooms.

Absentmindedly, Riley brushed her hand against the silk and satin dresses placed on one of many racks on display. The closest she had ever gotten to seeing such beautiful formal dresses was outside display windows of luxury stores on her way to school and work.

“Oh!” A girl yelped out, stepping out of a changing room and holding a dress.

Startled with the sudden voice, Riley looked over her shoulder to see who it was. However, when she noticed that the girl was only dressed in her underwear, Riley quickly turned back around. While she felt a hint of excitement to meet new people up close and personal, this wasn’t exactly what she had in mind.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” Riley apologized, feeling embarrassed at seeing a stranger looking so vulnerable. “I didn’t realize someone was already here. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have just barged in.”

With Riley’s back turned, the girl quickly draped the curtain of the changing room over her body to cover herself. Only her head poked out, a sign she was eager to invite Riley into a conversation.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all. To be honest, I didn’t have an appointment. I forgot to book one before my flight landed a few hours ago but thought I would peruse down here before it became too crowded,” the girl sheepishly replied, making Riley turn around to see her friendly smile. “I’m Hana. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Pleasantly surprised with the girl’s bright kindness to a stranger like her, Riley gave a smile in return. “You too. My name’s Riley.”

“I suppose you’re also here to prepare for the Masquerade tonight,” Hana replied, before disappearing behind the curtain to pull on the dress she was holding. “Since you’re here and not already dressed, I must assume that you’re just like me… searching desperately for something to wear.”

“More or less,” Riley replied, with a relaxed laugh. Her neck craned around to catch short glimpses of the dresses in the boutique, wondering how on earth she would be able to narrow it down with the surprising variety.

“The seamstress seems to be running late, but I can show you around! The boutique has the most exquisite gowns. Quite a few of them were shipped just this morning,” Hana answered, pulling the curtain to the side. “Let me just zip this dress up and we can look for one for you!”

Walking to a floor-length mirror, Hana faced her reflection to note her appearance. There was an immense amount of pressure on her from her parents to make a good first impression on the nobility during the court’s social season. She took a deep breath, examining the rose gold laced bodice with rhinestones and a matching floor-length satin skirt.

Her hands arched around her back, trying to get a firm grasp on the tiny zipper. Replaying her parents’ never-ending lectures in her mind about securing the hand of the prince, she felt a slight tremble in her grip and found herself unable to zip herself in the dress. What was she going to do if she failed to secure his attention?

“Need a hand?” Riley offered, admiring how confident and poised Hana looked in front of the mirror with her masquerade outfit.

With a relieved laugh, Hana answered, “That would be amazing.”

Making her way behind Hana, Riley grasped hold of the zipper and slid it all the way up. On a nearby side table, Hana picked up a salmon pink mask with gold accents that matched her dress perfectly. She carefully settled it on her face, making her happily sigh with a satisfied smile.

Turning to face Riley with a grin, Hana complimented, “Thank you. It’s a pity that not many girls here are like you.”

“Helpful?” Riley asked, a smile on her face at Hana’s comment.

“Genuinely nice,” Hana explained, with a simple knowing nod. “It would make the social season much less intimidating if we were here to converse as ladies instead of constantly viewing each other as competition.”

If Drake was right about the ruthlessness of noble ladies, it seemed Riley had found a rare ally in her. Unbeknownst to her, Hana held the same sentiments. Most ladies would secretly turn their noses up at her out of jealousy, let alone help her—something Hana was used to growing up as a noble.

Hana spun for Riley, her full skirts twirling as she giggled. “Ah, this dress is perfect! Now, what about you? One must have a mask for the Masquerade!”The two girls perused through racks of dresses, holding up possible options to the other for a second opinion. Ten minutes later, Hana’s eyes widened in excitement as she pulled two garment bags from a rack. “Have you seen the angel costume? You’d look amazing in white,” Hana suggested, eagerly holding up the white dress in her right hand and the other dress in her left hand. “Or there’s also a red one, if you’re feeling more devilish.”

“I’ll take a look.” Riley giggled, as Hana handed her both garment bags.

Inside a dressing room, Riley eyed the first costume meant to resemble a sultry devil. The crimson red colour of the strapless dress was striking along with sections made of mesh lace fabric highlighting embroidered patterns. Along with the dress were two devil horn accessories and a bold black mask with sparkling rhinestones.

Ultimately, Riley decided on the angel costume that Hana first suggested. It was much simpler with its draped off shoulder straps, a sweetheart neckline, and a shimmery sparkle that brightened the pure white colour. After stepping out of the changing room, Riley fixed the matching halo accessory on top of her head and plucked a detailed silver mask off of the table.

“How do I look?” Riley asked with a smile, giving a little twirl similar to the one Hana had done moments ago.

Hana’s face brightened up, as she grinned and the two made their way out of the boutique. “Heavenly! A costume as angelic as the girl wearing it.”

~ ~ ~

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

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

[prettyboisteveharrington]

So I’m rewriting the royal romance book two and I’m like wow look at all these things I can add but also wow I want more moments between Drake and MC or moments that end differently and no fic has so far pulled me in so I’m going to do it myself 😤

[deb-1106]

Forever

Chapter 6

Rating: M  (This Series contains mature themes, depictions of sexual acts both m/m and m/f and coarse language)

Pairing: Drake x Liam, Drake x Riley

Author’s Note: This series is set in an AU where Liam and Drake are in love with one another and there was never a conspiracy against Riley.  This has enough drama without all that Canon nonsense.  :)

Word Count: 5700

Shivering slightly against the cool night air, Drake stood outside Riley’s bedroom door knocking gently.

“C’mon Matheson.  I know you’re in there.  Please let me in.”

He thought he heard muffled sobs coming from the other side of the door, but she didn’t answer him.

“Riley…” He pleaded, “Please.  I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

Silence

“Come on. It’ll be morning soon.  I’m just in my underwear out here.”  He rubbed his hands over his arms, trying to warm up.  ”It’s really cold.”  

Dead air

“If one of the maids finds me, she’ll be scarred for life.’

More silence

“Just think of the scandal it’ll cause.  I can see the headlines now.  “King’s best friend found half naked outside suitors bedroom door.”

Still nothing.

Sighing, Drake leaned his forehead and the palm of his hand against the door.

“Okay...have it your way.  When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be right here, waiting...freezing my ass off...but don’t worry about me.”

Drake turned and slid down the door, bringing his knees up and resting his forearms on them.  He leaned his head back, banging it against the door a couple times before dropping it onto his arms.

Fuck!  

He’d been afraid something like this would happen. He and Liam had even talked about it.  They both knew going into tonight that they needed to make it all about Riley, and not about them.  It was imperative that she feel special, included, and needed ...if this arrangement had any chance of working.

And they couldn’t fucking do it.

With a frustrated groan, Drake scrubbed his face in his hands.  He didn’t blame Riley for running out on them.  Anyone in her place would’ve done the same damn thing!

He didn’t know low long he’d been sitting outside Rileys door.  All the knew was that by the time he heard the deadbolt disengage, he was chilled to the bone and his left butt-cheek had gone completely numb.

He pushed himself hurriedly to his feet just in time to see the door open a crack as Riley peered out into the hallway.

When she saw him standing there, she sighed,  

“You’re still here.” she said wearily, turning and leaving the door open.

He followed her inside, closing the door behind them.

She’d changed out of Liam’s shirt and was now dressed in a pair of leggings and an over-sized sweatshirt.  Her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail and her face scrubbed clean of make-up.  She looked so lost and miserable, huddled in the middle of her bed, with her knees pulled protectively to her chest.  

“I’m so sorry.” Drake began, holding his hands out in supplication, “I don’t know what else to say.  I’m just really, really sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”  Riley replied, her eyes filling with tears, “I’m the one who should be sorry.  I don’t know why I ever thought there was room for me in your relationship.”

“Because there is.” Drake insisted urgently,  “You just have to give it a little more time.  It’s a whole new dynamic and it’s going to take us all a little while to get used to it, that’s all.”

“Time isn’t going to change anything, and you know it!” She cried, her voice rising in pitch, “Liam will never love me the way he loves you.”

“You’re wrong.”  The words left his mouth automatically, but even as they did, he could taste the lie on his tongue.

Riley gave a harsh laugh, “It’s okay Drake. We both know it's true  I thought I was okay with it, but after tonight…”  She shook her head, “I just felt so...used.”

She stopped and pressed her hand over her mouth, unable to continue.

“Riley…” Drake reached for her but she moved out of his reach,

“How can I marry someone knowing that I’ll never come first to him?” She shook her head, “How can I marry someone who calls out your name when he’s making love to me?”

The tears started again and she didn’t bother trying to stop them this time.  She buried her face in her hands and gave herself over to them.

Drake sat on the bed next to her and pulled her into a comforting embrace, cradling her head to his chest as she wept.

“Liam does love you.” He murmured into her hair, “I know he does.”

“Maybe.” All the anger drained from her body, leaving her feeling sad, just desperately sad.

“But he’ll always love you more.”  She looked up at him, her beautiful blue eyes clouded with pain, “And you’ll always love him more.”

Drake tightened his arms around her, but didn’t try to deny it this time.

“I want more than that, Drake.” She continued, “I want to marry a man who loves me and puts me first.  I want to be the most important person in his life.  I deserve that.”  

She looked up at him, her beautiful face, pale and tear-streaked, “It’s not selfish of me to want that, right?”

Drake tucked her head under his chin, stroking her hair gently

“No.” He whispered, “Of course it isn't.”

He held her, stroking her back gently until her tears finally stopped.  He brought his hand to her face, gently wiping at the last of her tears with his thumb.

“You can have that Riley.  You can have that with Liam.”  

She started to shake her head, but Drake caught her chin between his fingers, stilling it.

“You can.” He insisted, “You’re good for Liam.  You’re good for Cordonia.  You’re the Queen this country needs.  Don’t throw that all away because of this.”

“But I just told you…”

“Listen to what I’m telling you, Riley.”  Drake said insistently, his eyes burning into hers, “This won’t be an issue ever again.  I promise you that.  You’ll marry Liam, and be the best Queen Cordonia has ever known.  You’ll fill up the palace with little princes and princesses and you’ll be happier than you ever dreamed possible.  If you give Liam the family he’s always wanted, you’ll become his entire world, and he’ll forget he ever knew me.  I promise you that.”

“You can’t make that kind of promise.”

“Yes I can.” He reached out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear with a soft smile, “I’m going to take myself out of the equation.”

Riley stood quickly, shaking her head, “What does that mean, Drake?  Take yourself out of the equation?”

“I’m going to leave.”

Riley’s eyes grew wide as she stared at him in disbelief. “No.  Drake you can’t do that.”

“It’s okay.” He said, rubbing her arm soothingly, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.  But after tonight, it’s become painfully obvious I can’t stay.”

Riley shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks, “Drake, no...Please.  This isn’t the answer.”

“I’ve made up my mind, Matheson.  You and Liam need a fighting chance, and you won’t get that while I’m still here.  I have to go.”

She threw her arms around Drake’s neck, hugging him tightly.  “But I don’t want you to leave!  I’ll miss you so much.”

Drake held her close, burying his face in her hair as she clung to him. “I know, me too.”

Finally he pulled away and kissed her gently on the forehead.

“You’re going to get your fairytale ending, Riley. You deserve nothing less.”

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

King Liam’s office was a beehive of activity this morning.  Bastien and Mara stood conversing quietly in the corner as they awaited their audience with the King.  Liam’s personal secretary, Helene stood at his side with an armful of papers requiring his signature.  She dropped the stack in front of him, tapping it impatiently with her pen to get his attention.  But at this moment he was completely focused on Lord Heyward, who was spreading a set of detailed blueprints across his desk.  

Drake stood quietly in the doorway waiting for his opportunity to have a word with Liam, but as more and more people entered and exited the room, he started to grow restless.

“Liam.” He said.

The King looked up briefly and noticed Drake standing across the room.

He nodded a greeting before returning his attention to Lord Heyward, tapping the plans in front of him with his pointer finger, “And what here?”

“A new retaining wall, your Majesty.  It will stretch from here…” he placed his finger on the blueprint and dragged it across the page, “To here. Reinforced with steel rebar.  It will hold for a thousand years, if not longer.”

Liam nodded his approval.

“Your Highness, please...” Helene said with a dramatic sigh, as she pushed the papers toward him, “ If you would just give me a moment of your undivided attention...”

“Liam.” Drake repeated, a little louder this time.

Liam met his eyes and frowned slightly.  It was unlike Drake to disturb him when he was working.  

Helene waved a contract in front of Liam’s face.  With a frustrated sigh, he snatched it from her hand, scrawled his name across the bottom and handed it back to her.

He held up one finger in Drakes direction as Helene handed him another page.

“I’m leaving.” 

“Oh?”  

Without looking up, Liam signed his name and slid the paper across the table to Helene before reaching for the next, “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know.”

At that, Liam raised his head, his brow furrowed.  “When will you be back?”

Drake squared his shoulders. “I won’t.”

Liam narrowed his eyes and the two engaged in a tense staring contest for several minutes until Lord Heyward’s voice shattered the silence.  

“Your majesty, If you’ll just sign off on the orders.  We need to submit the plan by...”

“Leave us.” Liam said tersely.

“But sir…”

“GET OUT.”  He commanded, his eyes never leaving Drake. “ALL OF YOU.”

Helene sucked in her breath.  She knew that tone and didn’t to be anywhere nearby when the King lost his temper.  She gathered her papers and scurried quickly to the door.

Bastien cleared his throat.  “Mara, Lord Heyward. If you would be so kind…”  

He held the door open until they both passed through.  Giving Liam a quick bow, he exited, closing the door behind him,  leaving Liam and Drake alone.

“What do you mean you’re not coming back?”  Liam’s tone was calm but Drake could see the anger boiling just under the surface.

Drake tilted his chin up, readying for battle.  He’d made his decision.  He wasn’t backing down.

“It’s time, Liam, we both know it.  Don’t fight me on this.”

Liam stood slowly and walked to the front of his desk.  He leaned back against it, his arms crossed over his chest as he scowled at Drake.

“Is this about the other night...with Riley?”

“She was devastated, Liam.

“Yes, I realize.  And I’m sorry for it.  It was a moment of weakness.  It won’t happen again.”

“You’re right.  It won’t.  Because I won’t be there next time.”

“So you’re running away again, is that it?”

Drake sighed in agitation, “I’m not running away…”

“After promising me that you wouldn’t!”  He pounded the desk with his fist, “You fucking promised me, Drake!”

“I’m not running!” Drake exploded, “I’m just... leaving.”

“You’re a coward!  You’re a liar and a fucking coward!” Liam turned his back and ran his fingers roughly through his hair as he fought to control his rising panic.

“You know it’s for the best.” Drake said quietly,

Liam gave a harsh laugh. “Do I?”

“Yeah, Li...you do.  Riley doesn’t want this, and who the hell can blame her?  She shouldn’t have to share her husband.”

“We’re not wed yet.”

“But you will be.” Drake said sharply

Liam crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at the floor in silence.

“You know you’re being  unfair to her. She deserves the fairytale you promised her.  She deserves a happy marriage to a man who adores her and puts her first always.  A husband who loves and cherishes her above everything and everyone else.  She’ll never have that if I stay.”

Finally Liam lifted his head, his eyes full of pain and uncertainty.   “I don’t know if I can be that man.”

“You can.” Drake said firmly, “As long as I’ve known you, you’ve wanted nothing more than to get married and have children.  It’s time.”

“But I…”

“Just stop, Liam!” Drake shouted, raking his fingers through his hair.  “Fuck!  You’re making this so goddamn hard.”

“Good. It should be fucking hard on you!”

Drake whirled on him, his eyes wild, “Do you really think this is easy for me?  You think this is what I want?”

“If you don’t want to leave, then...don’t!” Liam shouted back at him.

They stood face to face, chests heaving as they glared at each other.  

Finally Drake turned away with a growl of frustration. He stalked across the room to the window, staring out across the grounds of the only home he’d ever known.  

Why couldn’t Liam see it was killing him to have to do this?  Why did he have to be so fucking resistant?  

“Please, Drake.”  Liam whispered, his voice cracking with emotion, “Please don’t leave.”

“If I stay...” Drake turned from the window slowly, his eyes nearly black with emotion as they burned into Liam, “ You will lose Riley. Do you understand that?”

Liam hung his head

“Don’t lose Riley over this, Liam.  She’s your future. She’s Cordonia’s future.”

Liam shook his head, refusing to meet Drake’s steely gaze. “I don’t want a future if you’re not in it.”

“Grow the fuck up, Liam!”  Drake exploded, “I was never going to be your future and you know that as well as I do!  We always knew there’d come a day when this had to end.  We’re not kids anymore, Li.  It’s time to stop pretending we can have it all.  We can't.”

“Why not?” Liam whispered.

“Because that’s not how life works.”

“So you want me to let you go... for Riley.”

“No.” Drake snapped, “I want you to let me go because you’re the fucking King of Cordonia and your duty is to your people first.   You’ve been forgetting that for too long.”  

Liam’s eyes narrowed his jaw tightened, as Drakes words hit a raw nerve.  He knew very well what was expected of him.  The day Leo abdicated, Liam’s path was etched in stone and there was no deviating from that path.  He knew it, but he loathed being reminded of it.

Drake noticed the tension in Liam’s expression and softened his tone. “Your subjects need a King and a Queen, princes and princesses, a stable royal family to look to.  Riley loves you and I know you care for her.  Don’t be a fool, Liam. Marry her.  Start a family with her.  Be happy with her.”

“But I love you.”

Drake sighed heavily, trying to ease the tightness in his chest. “And I love you.  You know I do.  But it’s not enough anymore.”

“I don’t want you to leave.” Liam said quietly, unable to meet Drakes gaze for fear that he’d completely lose control of his emotions.  

Finally he swallowed down the lump in his throat and turned his sorrow-filled eyes to Drake.  

“I’m begging you” he whispered, “Don’t leave.”

Drake closed his eyes and fought against a wave of pain so strong it threatened to break his resolve completely.

He forced himself to picture Rileys tear-stained face and drew strength from it.

“I have to.”

Liam tilted his head upwards, staring unseeingly at the ceiling for several long minutes.  Finally, he looked back at Drake, his expression impassive.  

He straightened his posture, drew his shoulders back and clasped his hands behind his back as his kingly veneer dropped firmly into place

“When will you take your leave?” He asked formally.

Drakes brow furrowed at Liam’s sudden change of demeanor.

“Tomorrow.”

Liam nodded and returned to his desk.  He sat and turned his attention back to the papers on his desk.  

“Very well then.”

“Liam…”

“You know your way out.” Liam snapped dismissively, as he went back to studying the blueprints in front of him.

Drake let out a harsh laugh. “It’s gonna be like that, huh?”

Liam didn’t respond.  

“Is this really how you want to leave things?”

“I’m not leaving things at all.” Liam snapped, glaring up at him for just a second before turning back to his work, “You are.”

Frustrated, hurt and pissed as hell, Drake strode across the room and yanked the door open forcefully.

“Drake?”

Liam’s voice stopped him.  Drake turned slowly to face his best friend, the love of his life…

“Yes?”

“Send Helene and Lord Heyward back in, would you?”

Drake heart dropped as his anger surged.  With a clenched jaw, he gave a brief nod and walked out.

As soon as he heard the door close, Liam’s shoulders slumped forward and he buried his face in his hands.

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

Drake snapped his suitcase shut and nodded to Bastien.  “That’s the last of it.”

Bastien motioned to one of the guards who grabbed the bag and disappeared into the hallway.

Drake stood awkwardly in front of Bastien, staring at the floor for a moment before raising his eyes.

“This is harder than I thought it was going to be.” Drake said with a wry smile, “I kinda feel like I’m saying goodbye to my Dad all over again.”

Bastien shook his head, as he reached out to grasp Drakes arms firmly. “No.  I’m still here.  If you ever need anything...anything at all...I’m just a phone call away, alright?”

“Thanks, Bas. That means a lot.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,”  Bastien paused, giving Drake a wry smile, “I’m not very good with emotional stuff, so bear with me, okay?”

Drake nodded and steeled himself.  He wasn’t great with emotional stuff either and lately there’d been way too much of it for his tastes.  Still, Bastien had been a surrogate father to him, so if he had something he wanted to say, Drake owed him the chance to get it off his chest.

Bastien reached out to place his hand on Drake’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “It’s been my honor to look out for you these past years.  To watch you grow from an angry little boy with a chip on his shoulder the size of the Aegean Sea, into the man you are today has been the greatest honor of my life.  I couldn’t be more proud of you.”  He cleared his throat and nodded his head, “I just wanted you to know that.”

Drake reached out to pull Bastien into a tight hug

“I love you too.”

Bastien nodded again and gave him a solid thump on the back before releasing him. “I’ll miss you, son.”

Drake grinned back at him.  “I’ll miss you too, Dad.”

Bastien gave him a final pat on the arm before motioning to the door, “I believe there are a few more people downstairs waiting to bid you farewell.”

Drake stopped dead in his tracks and let out aloud groan

He’d really been hoping to slip out quietly without any fuss.  He’d thought...hoped that given Liam’s reaction yesterday that he’d be allowed to do just that.  

But it had been wishful thinking.

FUCK!

Drake took a deep breath before stoically marching down the hallway and descending the main staircase into the Grand Hall where much to his dismay, he found half of the Kingdom lined up to see him off.

“Drake!”  A sobbing Maxwell threw his arms around Drake’s waist, holding tightly.  

With a long suffering sigh, Drake gave his back a quick pat.

“Ok Beaumont.” Drake grasped him firmly by the shoulders and pushed him away, “Dial back the waterworks, would you?”  

“I just can’t believe you’re leaving us!  If I had more notice, I could’ve thrown you a going away party that would’ve made every Beaumont Bash in pale in comparison!”

“Which is precisely why I didn’t do that.”  Drake said dryly, “This…” he indicated the crowd of people in the Grand Hall, “Is exactly what I was trying to avoid.”

“But everyone’s going to miss you!  You wouldn’t begrudge us the chance to see you off by skulking out in the middle of the night, would you?”

“Damn.  You’re right...that’s exactly what I should’ve done.”

“I’m gonna miss you like crazy, buddy!

Drake rolled his eyes as Maxwell gave him another bone crushing hug.  

He was surprisingly strong for a skinny little dude.

Finally Maxwell released him and Drake turned to scan the crowd, looking for one person in particular.  When he didn’t see her signature flaming hair, he frowned.

Big surprise. She couldn’t even be bothered to show up to say goodbye.

For the next twenty minutes Drake slowly, painfully made his way through the throng of well-wishers, receiving kisses from the ladies and handshakes and pats on the back from the men.

Finally, he found himself standing in front of Liam and Riley.

Liam stood ramrod straight, with his hands clasped tightly behind his back, looking every inch the stoic King of Cordonia.

But Drake knew better.  

He could see the dark circles under his eyes, the way his  mouth twitched at the corner, just a little bit as he held himself in check.  Drake was sure Liam was grateful today for the years of countenance training his parents had forced upon him.  

Beside him stood Riley, her eyes red rimmed, biting her bottom lip to stop it from quivering.  Drake felt something inside of him crack and closed his eyes for just a moment.  

He refused to shed a single fucking tear today.  Wasn’t happening.

“Riley.” He said roughly.  

Throwing decorum to the wind, Riley launched herself at him and he caught her in a tight embrace, burying his face in her hair and inhaling her scent for what he knew was the last time.

“Be happy, okay?”  

Riley nodded her head against his neck.

“Take care of him for me.”  He whispered.  

Riley’s arms tightened around him and she sobbed into his chest until he gave her a gentle shake, a reminder of who and where she was.  She took a deep shuddering breath and pulled herself together.

“Ok,” She whispered, “I’m ok.”

Drake released her and she took a step back with a small embarrassed laugh.  “I’m going to miss you so much.”  She said with a bright smile that didn’t reach her eyes.  “Good luck, Drake.  Please come back and visit us soon.”

She felt she had to say the words, even though she knew in her heart once he left, she’d never see him again.

Drake gave her a nod and a warm smile before steeling himself to face Liam.

Liam held out his hand stiffly.   

Drake took a deep breath and grasped it.

“You will be sorely missed.” Liam said, his voice carefully controlled. “Cordonia won’t be the same without you.”

“I think Cordonia will survive.” Drake said dryly as he pulled his hand from Liam’s.

“Thanks for everything, Your Majesty.  It’s been an honor and a privilege.”

He turned abruptly and started for the door, when he felt Liam’s hand on his shoulder.

“Let me walk you out.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Drake said icily

“Yes,  Drake...I do.”

They walked side by side to the large double doors.  Two pages opened the doors and they walked outside.

Liam turned to the members of the court and the Kingsguard who’d  followed them.

“That will be all.” He said firmly, “You’re dismissed.  

Everyone quickly filed back inside except for Riley, who remained standing by the door as Liam and Drake walked slowly down the stone steps toward the circular driveway.

Drake groaned when he saw the car his suitcases were being loaded into.

“A fucking Limo?”

Liam smiled, “And a Royal motorcade.”

“This is…” Drake rubbed his hand over his face as he looked at the black cars with t Cordonian flags flying in the breeze, “Excessive and ...ridiculous.”

“I couldn’t let you leave without rolling out the red carpet.”  Liam’s reached out to put his hand on Drake’s shoulder, “It’s the very least I could do.”

Drake squinted up into the sun before finally looking at Liam.  

“None of this is necessary.  You didn’t need to come out here.  You said everything you needed to say yesterday.”

No.”  Liam’s vehement reply startled Drake and he looked up to see that Liam’s composure had snapped.  There were tears glistening in his eyes as he spoke. “Yesterday I was angry.  I was hurt and... blinded by pride.  Your King dismissed you last night…” Liam paused as he felt his emotions threaten to overwhelm him.  

He took a deep breath to compose himself.  

“Today I stand here as your best friend...the man who loves you…who will always love you.  The man who is going to miss you every single minute that you’re gone.”

“Fuck Liam.” Drake said, shaking his head, “Don’t.  Please just don’t fucking do this right now.”

Liam’s fingers tightened on Drake's arm “I’m going to ask you...no, beg you...one more time, Drake.  Please don’t leave..  Please.”

“I have to.  It’s the only way.  You know it’s true. ” Drake’s eyes bore into his, “You know it.”

Liam looked up to the sky, his eyes clouded with sorrow as he raked his fingers through his hair.  “I’m sorry, Drake.  For everything.  I’m sorry it has to be like this.”  

Liam reached out to place his hand on the back of Drake's neck, pulling him close until their foreheads were pressed together as they mourned a life they would never have together.

Riley watched them from the palace doors, tears streaming down her face.  

“I love you.” Liam whispered, pressing his cheek against Drakes, savoring the feeling of his stubble scraping against his skin.  “Forever.”  

“I love you, Li.” Drake repeated, “Forever.”

Liam ruffled Drake’s hair affectionately and released him, taking a step backward.

“Safe Travels, my friend.”

Drake gave him a crooked grin before climbing into the waiting limo.

Once inside, Drake reached out and raised the dark privacy glass that separated him from his driver.  With a deep sigh he leaned his head back against the cool leather seat, closed his eyes and finally allowed the tears to come.

Liam stood in the driveway and watched until the Limo was out of sight.  He sensed Riley beside him, but said nothing.  

She reached out to place her hand on his arm.

“Liam, are you okay?” She asked gently.

He turned his head and looked down at her for a moment, his expression unreadable.  Without a word, he jerked his arm from her touch and turned, striding purposefully back into the palace.

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

Drake stood at the ticket counter of the Cordonian Airport, hands jammed into the front pockets of his jeans as he contemplated the flight board in front of him.

“You weren’t really planning on leaving without saying goodbye, were you?”

A small smile curved Drake’s lips, but he didn’t turn around. “I should’ve known I couldn’t escape from you that easily.”

He looked down to find a set of blood red, manicured nails on his arm.

“What are you doing here, Liv?” He asked dryly, “I hope you’re not going to try and talk me out of leaving.”

“God, no. Why in the world would I do that?” She replied.  

Drake turned his head to stare into her emerald eyes.”Really?”

“This is long overdue.” She said matter-of-factly, “I’ll never understand why you stayed as long as you did.”

Without answering, Drake turned back to the flight board. Olivia stood quietly next to him as she perused it as well

“So where are we going?”

Drake cocked an eyebrow at her, “We?”

Olivia gave him a slow smile. “You didn’t think I’d let you run away all by yourself, did you?”

Drake raised his brows.  “Why in the world would you want to go anywhere with me.  In case you’ve forgotten, you hate me.”

Olivia gave him a slow, sexy smirk. “You have your talents.”

Drake laughed at that.  

“I’ve never hated you.”

“You just hated my common blood.”

“Maybe in the beginning.  But I got over that once I saw your cock.”

He turned to her again, a slight smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.  “And you give really good head for a nobel.”

“See?” She said with a laugh as she leaned her head on his shoulder, “Common ground.”

“I guess.” He turned to brush his lips across the top of her head

“We actually have quite a lot in common, you know.”

“C’mon, Livvie,” he said, bumping her with his shoulder, “You and I couldn’t be more different, and you know it.”

She shrugged her dainty shoulders.  “I used to believe that.  But now I see that we’re not so different at all.”

“Yeah...okay.”

“We’re both outcasts.”

Drake gave a slight incline of his head

“We’re both in love with the same man, and neither of us can have him.”

Drake turned to look at her, noting the sadness in her eyes.

“Yeah,” He said softly, “We do have that in common.”

“And...we’re both incredibly attractive, a little unpredictable and we both drink entirely too much.”  She winked at him to ease the heaviness that settled around them.

Drake grinned.  “You’re right.  I was wrong.  We’re practically the same person.”

Olivia leaned against him and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they both stared up at the flights leaving Cordonia .

“So where do a couple of fucked up cast-offs like us go to start over?”

“I don’t know.” Olivia said, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, a saucy smirk on her pouty red lips, “What are you qualified to do when your only job description for the last seven years has been Royal Boy Toy?”

Drake let out a loud bark of laughter.  Only Olivia could get away with saying something like that to him.

“Hmmmm.”  Drake studied the outgoing flights listed on the flight board in front of them.  

His eyes lit up mischievously and he pointed. “Right there.  11:45 flight to Amsterdam.  Maybe I can sell my body in the red light district.”

Olivia made a show of looking him up and down, noting how his tight white T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and the way his jeans rode low on his hips.  

She remembered vividly what his body looked like under those clothes.  

“You could do well for yourself there, I think.” She agreed with a smirk, “But I think you can do better.”

She looked up at the flight board.  “1:15 flight to Barcelona.”

She turned to Drake, “You’d look quite dashing in a matador’s traje de luces.”

Drake smirked.  “You just want to see me gored, don’t you?  Spain is one of the most beautiful and romantic countries in the world, and you went straight for carnage.”

“It’s in my DNA, darling.” She winked at him.

“Ok, if romance is what you’re after…” Olivia scanned the flight board once again.  “Paris, France...10:35 flight.”

She turned back to him and smiled, “The City of Lights?”

Drake shrugged. “My French is pretty rusty.”

“How’s your German?  Munich at 12:05?”

“My German is even worse than my French.”

Olivia placed her hand on his arm and gazed up at him, her eyes filled with tenderness, “Drake, look at me.”

He turned and gazed down into her beautiful, concerned eyes and gave her a sad smile.

“What kind of life do you want to find for yourself out there?”

Drake shrugged. “Something simple.  Quiet. Peaceful.  I just want to go someplace and be happy, Liv.  But I don’t know if that place exists for me.”

Olivia, reached out to stroke his hair back from his eyes.  “Trust me?” She asked softly

Drake nodded.

Olivia pressed a kiss to his cheek.  “Go to the lounge and get us some drinks.  Leave this to me.”

Drake smiled and hoisted his leather carry on strap over his shoulder.  “I can’t wait.”

Drake settled himself into a plush leather chair in the VIP lounge and ordered a round of drinks.  He was sipping his whiskey when Olivia appeared and sat across from him, slapping two tickets on the table in front of them.

She brought her glass of red wine to her lips with a satisfied smirk.

Drake looked down, then up at her, his brow furrowed.  “Really?”

Olivia nodded.  “I think it’s time you went home.”

His face broke into a slow smile.  “You’re going to come to Texas with me?”  

He laughed, his eyes shining with amusement, “Sorry.  I just can’t picture you on the back of a horse, out in the sun all day, or... Jesus, mucking out stalls.”  

He started laughing again.

“Oh, Good lord, no!”  Olivia wrinkled her nose in distaste as she took another sip of wine.  

She pushed the second ticket toward him.  “I’m going to Paris.”

He looked up at her in surprise.  Her tone was light, but her eyes told him a very different story.

“I think it's about time we each wrote our own happy ending, don’t you?”

Drake nodded slowly, “Yeah...I guess it is.”

Just then they heard a garbled voice over the intercom

Olivia turned to Drake with a sad smile. “My flight is boarding.”

Drake stood and pulled her into his arms.  They held each other tightly for a minute until Olivia pulled away, wiping at a tear with a small laugh.  

“Ugh.  Look what you’ve made me do.  If my mascara runs, I’ll murder you with my bare hands.”

Drake smiled.  “You look perfect Livvy, just like always.”

“Will you come visit me?” She asked suddenly, her eyes shining with unshed tears, “We can stroll along the Seine, sip coffee in one of those quaint little outdoor cafes, make love all day and all night and just forget about the world for a while...”

“Just try and keep me away.”

She bit her bottom lip and nodded

“Until then.”  She placed her hand on his cheek, smiling tenderly.  “You take care of yourself, Drake Walker.  Despite all instincts to the contrary...I adore you.”

Drake turned his face into her hand and pressed his lips against her palm before pulling away.

“Love you too, Livvie.  Au revoir, mon ami.”

[karahalloway]

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 18 - Diplomatica

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, Olivia and the Beaumonts arrive in Rome... but not everyone is happy to see them

Word Count: 5,300

Rating/Warnings: None (for once 🤣)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: Lots of Italian and random cultural/historical tidbits in this... but, then again, we are in Italy, so the foreign language aspect will be a bit of a running theme through the next few chapters (sorry...not sorry - I actually learnt some Italian in the process!)

A/N2: @aussiegurl1234, before you ask, yes, I HC that Vito bears a striking resemblance to Michele Morrone 😆

Chapter 18 - Diplomatica

"How is it hotter here than in Cordonia?" I gasp as I step out onto the jet's airstairs.

"Italy is a peninsula," Olivia says from behind me, slotting on a pair of Versace cat-eye shades. "It is more exposed to the anti-cyclones that blow up from the Sahara."

My mouth drops as I make my way down onto the steaming tarmac. "This heatwave... is coming from Africa?"

No wonder it feels like the inside of a furnace!

"It certainly isn't coming from the Arctic!" bemoans Bertrand as he shields his face from the intensity of the rays with an upraised hand. "Though what a welcome change that would be!"

"Brr...!" objects Maxwell with a shiver. "No thank you! I've had my yearly fill of sub-zero temps at Olivia's!"

"You're welcome," comes the snippy response as the Duchess of Lythikos strides past us.

"That said, turning the mercury down a few notches wouldn't hurt..." I remark, squinting accusatorily up at the beating sun.

"The summer heatwaves have been growing longer and more intense over recent years," Olivia advises from up front, "leading to consequent effects on food and water security, power generation, infrastructure, not to mention the added burden on the healthcare system across Europe. It is one of the items on the agenda for Christian's roundtable with the Italian Prime Minister tomorrow."

I frown as I arrive at the passenger-side door of the first in a trio of waiting Porsche Macan GTS's. "I thought this was supposed to be an engagement tour..."

"It is," she confirms as a black-suited Italian sporting close-cropped hair and aviators opens the door for her. "But any foreign visit involving a high-ranking head of state is — by its nature — a diplomatic event as well."

"I guess that makes sense," I concede, sliding into the relative reprieve offered by the SUV's A/C system. "Though you said Christian is meeting with the Prime Minister tomorrow... I thought that was supposed to be today. Did something change?"

"No," derides Bertrand as he settles in next to me. "Today, the King is partaking in a meet-and-greet with the Italian President, followed by a private audience with the Pope while the future Queen is fitted for her wedding trousseau, capped off by dinner and a performance of Tosca at the Teatro dell'Opera in the evening. While tomorrow we have been invited to brunch at the Cordonian Consulate, after which the King has a round-table discussion with the Prime Minister, and day will be closed out by a state gala."

"Oh," I mutter sheepishly. "So, the Prime Minister isn't the same as the President...?"

"The Prime Minister is the head of government, while the President is the head of state," the elder Beaumont instructs as Maxwell squishes himself into the backseat on the other side of me. "The roles are quite distinct."

"Of course they are..." I huff under my breath.

Seems like in addition to Olivia's list of influential Cordonian nobles, I will also need to memorise a textbook on European constitutional history...

Though, now I am doubly glad of the business-like, but nevertheless stylish pale pink, high-necked pencil dress that Bertrand foisted on me this morning — it definitely would not have been great to show up underdressed to such a high-level meeting!

"But we must hurry!" the elder Beaumont proclaims. "We are due at the Presidential Palace in just under an hour, and we still need to fight our way through the notoriously infernal Roman traffic!"

"Not to worry," Olivia assures us with a sly smirk from the front passenger seat. "Vito here knows all the shortcuts."

"That sounds ominous..." I mutter, reaching for the seatbelt on instinct.

"I prefer 'expeditious'," she counters, turning to Vito, who has now taken up position behind the wheel. "Andiamo."

"Certamente, Duchessa," he nods, throwing the car forward with a violent depression of the gas pedal.

The sudden acceleration yanks an inadvertent gasp from my lips as I'm thrown back in my seat... just like on that afternoon in Ramsford when Drake pulled the same stunt on the Beaumonts' driveway.

I feel my throat tighten as I glance inadvertently out the window. God, I hope he's okay...

I know in the back of my mind that I'm probably making myself anxious for no reason. Drake is an adult, perfectly capable of taking care of himself... including in close-quarters situations. He's demonstrated that to me plenty of times.

Yet, I still can't help but worry about him. Especially when he's off in a foreign country (all by himself for all I know...), having left with basically no good-bye, and with definitely no assurance of when he expects to get back.

And while I know that he is doing this for me — so we can collar Tariq and extract whatever information he has in relation to the plot to influence the outcome of the social season... and to answer for what he did to me in Applewood — the wait is killing me. I have no idea where he is, what he is doing, and whether he even has his phone turned on, given the high-stakes nature of his self-appointed task.

Which is why I have held off trying to reach out to him (...even though the baser, needier part of me is itching to do exactly that), as I don't want to be the one to interrupt a crucial moment by setting his phone off with an ill-timed call or text, especially considering the three-hour time difference...

I heave a breath.

I just have to trust him. Like he asked me to at every turn of this increasingly bumpy road that we've been travelling since I left New York. And hope that we are finally on our way out of the woods.

Exiting the boundaries of the airport, Vito navigates the Porsche onto a highway where we are able to pick up some speed. Olivia uses the opportunity to open up her phone, throwing some questions in Italian to her associate every so often as we cruise along. Bertrand is similarly occupied, while Maxwell has slipped on some Bose headphones and is bobbing away to the beat.

Which leaves me to stare somewhat aimlessly out the window, watching the scenery roll by in a bid to keep myself distracted.

But the reprieve ends up being somewhat of a welcome one. The various warehouses and road-side auto lots surrounding the airport quickly give way to a tree-lined thoroughfare, and I find myself basking in the calming effects of the greenery, not having expected to encounter such a bucolic sight on the road to a major urban centre.

Eventually, though, the vegetation gives way to the crumbling walls of some kind of expansive estate that we end up following for a good few miles until the asphalt road changes over to cobblestones and we pass in front the gates of a red-bricked stone fortress that looks like it's been plucked straight from the set of Game of Thrones.

"Wow..." I can't help but breathe as I take in the sight of the towering structure simmering under the light of the mid-morning sun.

"Le mura aureliane," advises Vito from up front, catching my awed expression through the rear-view mirror. "Costruita dall'imperatore Aureliano per difendere Roma dai barbari."

I nod distractedly, craning my neck as we turn a corner to follow the path of the ancient structure that is somehow still standing despite the clear ravages of time and weather.

Nothing lasts like this anymore...

Making another turn, we pass beneath an arched portion of the wall, and the road before us opens up into a leafy boulevard that takes us into the city proper. And from there, it's one jaw-dropping piece of architecture after another jostling for space between more modern buildings and seemingly never-ending rows of trees.

"I didn't expect Rome to be so green..." I admit to no one in particular as I eye up the unusual-looking shrubs.

"You can thank the Ancient Romans," supplies Bertrand without glancing up from his phone. "They planted the now-iconic stone pines in scores along the major roadways in part to serve as ornamentation, and in part to provide a steady supply of pine nuts, which are an essential ingredient in many dishes, including pesto and various pies and tarts."

"It certainly was worth the effort," I agree, watching the evergreens drift past on either side of us.

Though, as Bertrand predicted, the closer we get to the centre of the ancient capital, the increasingly chaotic the traffic becomes, with cars, buses and mopeds all vying for space on the roads, requiring Vito to make recourse to his own horn as well as various offensive gestures in order to narrowly avoid a slew of accidents... and I suddenly have a slightly better appreciation for why Drake drives the way he does. Because based on my experiences first in France and now in Italy, it appears that on the Mediterranean, might equals right when it comes to priority on the road, and unless you're forceful, you ain't getting nowhere.

Managing to finally extricate ourselves from the constraints of a complicated intersection, we end up on a quieter road running parallel to a long patch of bunkered-looking grass on our left.

"What's that?" I ask, tapping Vito on his shoulder.

"Il Circo Massimo," he advises.

My eyes widen. "That's the Circus Maximus?"

"Sì," he nods. "L'antico stadio romano costruito per le corse dei carri."

"Unbelievable..." I murmur, slumping back into my seat in awe.

There is nothing comparable back home — even the oldest still-extant pre-Columbian structures date to only the first millennia A.D. Whereas here we are, casually cruising past a seminal piece of history that is still embedded into the fabric of the city nearly three thousand years after its construction. And we haven't even seen the Colosseum, or the Forum yet!

Rome really is the Eternal City...

Leaving the green fields of the Circus behind us, we enter a more urban-looking environment as we start to climb a hill. The white- and sand-coloured buildings cluster closer together, and the general architecture becomes more uniformly Baroque, until we arrive in a large plaza dominated by a massive, Neo-Classical structure that towers over everything else.

"Il Vittoriano," Vito offers without prompting.

"Is that where we're having brunch with the President?" I ask, slack-mouthed as I stare up at the imposing building.

It certainly looks impressive enough to house the head of a country!

"Of course not!" admonishes Bertrand. "The Vittoriano is a symbolic collection of monuments built to commemorate the rule of King Victor Emmanuel II and the unification of Italy. The President resides at the Quirinal Palace, which is located on a wholly different Roman hill!"

"Oh," I mutter sheepishly.

"Like she is going to know the difference," scoffs Oliva from the front. "They don't even teach The Art of War in her schools... How can you expect her to know anything about Italian history?"

"Italian history is foundational history!" insists Bertrand. "The Romans were instrumental in shaping not just the course of European, but Northern African and Middle Eastern events for millennia! How can they neglect to teach American children about this?"

"Because the focus is on US history," I tell them wearily as Vito navigates us to the other side of the square.

"Surely that is an afternoon's worth of lessons at most?" the elder Beaumont queries sceptically. "Your country was only founded in the conventional sense of the word in the mid-1600s..."

"Most Americans haven't been to Europe," I remind him, watching the rows of buildings flick past on either side of us as we begin the ascent up another hill. "They don't necessarily have a basis of comparison."

"Sounds like your curriculum is somewhat lacking in scope, then..." he surmises with pursed lips.

"Yeah, well..." I retort dryly, "I don't write the textbooks. Though, speaking of education, is there any chance for some sightseeing? It would be a shame to spend two days here and not actually see anything..."

"While I wholeheartedly approve of the sentiment," Bertrand replies, "I am afraid that you will have to make do with the cultural experiences offered by the various host venues on the official itinerary. Which — I admit — are no Pantheon, or Sistine Chapel, but are impressive and important cultural artefacts, nevertheless. The Quirinal Palace, for instance, so named for the Quirinal Hill on which it sits, is actually the sixth largest palace in the world and has served as the primary residence of such notable figures as—"

I let out a low exhale as Bertrand launches into a full-blown historical recital. And while the details are definitely interesting, I didn't come all this way to listen to a one-man rendition of a Roman guidebook.

Which makes me all the more determined to find some kind of opportunity to slip away from the official tour — even if it's just for an hour to toss a coin into the Trevi Fountain — so that I can experience something of the magic that this breathtaking city has to offer.

When, I have no idea, given the busyness of our schedule, but I managed to orchestrate an escape plan to see the capital back in Cordonia, so I'm confident I'll be able to pull something similar... albeit without Drake's help this time. But despite the set-backs, I'm not about to miss out on this kind of once-in-a-lifetime experience...

With my intention firmly set, the car rounds an uphill corner, and we are suddenly on the edge of yet another expansive plaza secured by a rim of strategically placed concrete planters and a pair of police cars.

Vito pulls to a stop and slides the window down to exchange a few quick words with the officer who has come to greet us.

"Passports," instructs Olivia, reaching into her purse.

Opening up the white, Medusa emblazoned Versace clutch sitting on my lap — which I am sure cost more than what I would've ever made in a month working as a waitress back home, but which Bertrand had insisted on as a 'necessary' Italian-themed accessory — I pull out my shiny, new Cordonian passport and pass it to the front.

Maxwell and Bertrand do the same, and there is a couple of minutes of tense silence while the stern-looking officer inspects each document to verify our identities, while another policeman does a circuit 'round the car with a convex safety mirror.

Finally, the policeman hands the passports back with a curt nod, and waves us through.

"Were they not expecting us?" I query as I slot my credentials away again.

"They were," Olivia advises. "But we are arriving separately from the royal delegation, so the State Police are obligated to run a security check."

"Why?"

The Duchess of Lythikos scoffs back at me. "To ensure that we are not terrorists trying to kill the President with a car bomb... Or did that part go over your head?"

"No..." I hit back sarcastically. "I meant why are we arriving separately?"

She looks back at me with an arched brow. "Would you have preferred to deal with the press?"

"I... No," I admit.

She turns back to the front with a smirk. "Didn't think so."

Vito pulls the car to a stop in front of a small courtyard decked out with a red carpet and intertwined streamers made out in the colours of Cordonia's and Italy's flags. Allard and Schweitzer — who had been travelling in the car behind us — appear to open the doors for us.

Bertrand scoots out of the backseat first, before turning back to offer me his hand.

"Thanks," I say with a sincere smile, grasping his fingers to help pull myself up.

"Always my pleasure," he replies with a genuine smile.

Smoothing my skirt, I gaze up at the somewhat understated-looking entranceway, suddenly nervous about the prospect of acting as a newly-minted ambassador of Cordonia. I mean... three months ago, I was bussing tables at a dive bar for less than minimum wage, and now here I am, decked out in clothes that cost more than the rent I was paying for a fifth-storey walk-up, about to have an official meeting with a foreign country's head of state.

To say that I feel like a fraud is a massive understatement.

"What are you waiting for?" asks Olivia, breezing past me with all the confidence of a woman who's done this a hundred times before... probably because she has. "For the grass to grow?"

"I—"

"I heard the President loves chocolate bomboloni," offers Maxwell enthusiastically, linking his arm through mine to tug me down the length of the red carpet.

"What's...that?" I ask, forcing myself to swallow down the sudden dryness in my throat.

Maxwell's face collapses into an aghast look of shock. "Only the best pastry-based dessert! Second only to cronuts, of course!"

"That's definitely a high bar to hit," I admit.

"Think mini doughnuts with gooey chocolate filling, dusted with powdered sugar," he explains. "They literally melt in your mouth!"

"Except we are not here to indulge infantile cravings for sugary treats," reprimands Bertrand as we pass through the arched doorway. "We are here to partake in important discussions relating to matters of state, and t—"

"Pfft," scoffs Olivia. "Speak for yourself, Beaumont. These meetings are dull as shite. I'm here for the sweets."

I can't help but snort at the unexpected riposte... as well as the resultant sight of Bertrand's jaw hitting the parquet flooring. And I unexpectedly find myself feeling better about the whole experience. Because despite whatever nerves I may be feeling, the fact that Olivia and the Beaumonts are with me means that I am not alone in this.

Passing into the coolness of the building, we are greeted by a middle-aged woman who proceeds to lead us through a veritable rabbit warren of ante-rooms and corridors before we finally arrive in an expansive room dominated by a pair of jaw-dropping crystal chandeliers suspended from a vaulted, hand-painted ceiling.

"La Salle Bronzino," informs our guide, indicating that we should step through.

"Wow..." I breathe, trying to take in the opulence with as much composure as I can.

A slew of camera shutters click to life upon our arrival.

Jerking my gaze down from the delicate, celestial fresco above me, I spot the handful of photographers aiming their lenses at me.

I stifle a groan as I plaster a demure smile onto my face. "I thought you said there wouldn't be any reporters."

"This is an official state visit," Bertrand hisses out of the corner of his mouth. "Of course, there will be reporters!

"Just not as many as there would have been outside earlier," Olivia assures me.

My shoulders slump in acquiescence. "Take the wins you can get, I guess..."

"Ah, you made it!" exclaims Christian, striding up to us with a jovial grin. "Traffic wasn't too terrible, I hope?"

"Nothing Vito couldn't handle," Olivia assures him, dipping into a chaste curtesy as the photographers snap eagerly away.

Christian turns to me with a good-natured chuckle. "And Lady Harper... First impressions haven't put you off, have they?"

"No," I assure him, bobbing down politely as well, knowing that everyone in the room now has their eyes on us. "The exact opposite, actually."

"Excellent," he beams, holding my gaze for a second longer than he did with Olivia. "I have to admit that I have a bit of a soft spot for Rome, myself."

"It really is a—"

"Darling," interjects Madeleine with a steely smile, appearing at her fiancé's shoulder. "You really should focus your attentions on the President. He has been gracious enough to open up his home for us, after all..."

Christian's nostrils flare with the briefest flash of irritation as he pulls back slightly. "Quite. Let us go make the necessary introductions."

Madeleine bristles. "That is not what I—"

Deftly ignoring her, Christian extends his arm decisively towards an elderly man wearing a sombre suit and gold-rimmed glasses. "Shall we?"

"I guess so?" I concede, already feeling myself being steered past the silently fuming countess.

"Now remember," Bertrand mutters next to me as Christian leads us down the length of the room. "In the context of a formal conversation, it is always lei — never tu — when addressing your counterpart, so for the love of all that is holy, please do not—"

"Singor Presidente," proclaims Christian as he pulls to a stop. "Permettetemi di presentarvi altri membri della nostra delegazione."

The President raises his head dutifully. "Certamente."

"Questo è Singor Bertrand Beaumont, duca di Ramsford, e suo fratello, Maxwell."

The Beaumonts bow their heads dutifully.

"Beaumont..." the President frowns. "Sai, mi suona familiare. Sei parente di Signor Bartholemy, per caso?"

"Sì," Bertrand confirms. "Egli è nostro padre."

The President is nodding in recollection. "Sì... sì... Ha accompagnato il re precedente in molte occasioni. Sei molto simile a lui."

"Sì, la somiglianza di famiglia è forte," Bertrand acknowledges.

"E questa è Singorina Olivia Nevrakis, duchessa di Lythikos, un mio carissimo amico, e fedele sostenitrice del famiglia Rys."

Olivia holds out her hand. "E' un piacere conoscerla, Signore Presidente."

The President drops a chaste kiss on the back of her hand. "Il piacere è tutto mio."

"E finalmente," concludes Christian, "questa è Singorina Harper, la nuova duchessa di Valtoria."

The President's brows arc inquisitively. "Singorina Harper... You are... American? No?"

"Sì," I affirm as I offer my hand out. "Ma ho praticato mio Italiano..."

The President's mouth cracks into a genuine smile. "And you are doing very well, Singorina! Tell me, have you visited la città eterna before?"

"No, this is my first time," I admit, also switching to English, now that the formalities are over and done with. "But even the ride from the airport was utterly magical! It's like stepping into history!"

"Sì," the President affirms with a grin. "Us Romans are unspeakably lucky to be able to call such a beautiful city our home. It is a place of many treasures."

"What is your favourite part of the city?" I ask.

The President blinks in surprise at the unexpected intimacy of the request. "That is a difficult question... But if I am forced to choose... it would have to be this little forno next to la Fontana di Trevi which makes a very unique — and very delicious — pistachio croissant. It is not for every person, but if you have a spirit of adventure, then I suggest you try it."

"Thank you," I say with a sincere smile, filing the suggestion away. "I definitely will!"

"I cannot say that I have had the pleasure of sampling this treat, either," Christian admits, with a knowing glance down at me. "But Lady Harper has excellent taste in pastries — she was actually kind enough to introduce us to an American delicacy called a cronut. It was a big hit all around."

"A cronut?" queries the President. "I cannot say I am familiar..."

"Don't worry," Maxwell assures him with a conspiratorial grin. "We'll bring you one. If you'll trade us some bomboloni in exchange?"

Bertrand's already sunburnt face reddens further. "Maxwell! You cannot entreat the President t—"

"You like bomboloni, also?" interjects the President with keen interest.

"Of course!" Maxwell affirms enthusiastically. "Anyone who doesn't like them clearly has something wrong with them!"

"Sounds like you have excellent taste in pastries as well, Signore Maxwell!" chuckles the President.

The conversation continues to revolve around our shared food interests for a few more minutes, until an aide clears his throat from behind the President.

"Accettare le mie scuse," he apologises. "But I am being advised that it is time for the photographs and the speeches."

"Of course," nods Christian graciously, indicating that the President should lead the way to the front of the room where a small podium has been set up.

As the two men peel away from the group, I cast my eyes 'round the space and spot Hana standing by one of the large windows. Giving her a wave, I use the brief break in the proceedings to make my way over to her.

"So, what's the view like from this side of the room?" I ask by way of greeting.

"Quieter than your side," she admits wryly. "You certainly seemed to be having an engaging conversation with the President!"

"We discovered a shared love for sugary treats," I admit. "You should've joined us — you could've bragged about that baking championship that you won."

"It's alright," she demurs with a blush. "It's actually been nice to take a moment to step away from the crowd."

"Oh?" I ask, laying a concerned hand on her arm. "Is something wrong?"

She heaves a breath, as if debating whether to tell me. Finally, she says, "I have been fending off suitors."

My brow shoots skywards. "How many proposals have you had?"

"Since I arrived...? Probably twelve..."

My eyes bulge. "Twelve! That's like two a day!"

"Yes," she concedes with a weary exhale. "Lady Madeleine has been extremely gracious in personally introducing me to numerous eligible bachelors—"

"—but none of them are Maxwell," I surmise.

Her eyes flick up to mine before dropping back down sorrowfully. "No. But for the sake of my parents, I must entertain every available option in an honest manner."

"That definitely sounds exhausting..." I concede. "But hopefully now that we're out of the country, you can catch a bit of a break."

"I am not so sure..." she admits. "I have been advised that a number of well-connected Italians will be in attendance at the opera tonight..."

"Pfft...!" I scoff. "Just take the night off... Pretend to be sick... Run off with Maxwell to get some gelato... Actually enjoy being in Italy!"

Hana blushes. "I—"

The chime of a bell rings out across the room, interrupting our conversation.

Looking up, I see that all heads have turned dutifully towards the twin forms standing on the dais as they prepare to address the congregation.

"Vostra Altezza Reale, colleghi delegati, Signore e Signori," greets the President, "È un onore, per me, ospitare la delegazione reale di Cordonia, nostro vicino e stretto alleato per centinaia di anni. È passato troppo tempo da—"

As the speech winds on, I find myself tuning out, given that I am only able to understand every third or fourth word. But, not wanting to come across as rude by continuing my catch-up with Hana, I instead try to occupy myself by examining the two large tapestries suspended on the walls.

A round of applause draws me out of my reverie, and I join in on auto-pilot as the President hands off to Christian. Several more minutes of lilting Italian fills the room, during which time I move my attentions to the Roman-looking busts, wondering which emperors they depict.

Finally, the speeches come to a close, and I heave a sigh of relief.

"Did you understand any of that?" I ask Hana as the President presents Christian with some kind of medal, and the two men pose for photos.

"Of course," she nods. "My parents—"

"—have been giving you Italian lessons since before you could talk?" I finish dryly.

Hana's cheeks dimple. "Not quite that young, but yes. I am what they consider 'proficient'."

"Meaning, you speak it better than I speak English," I joke.

She snorts in response. "I wouldn't say that..."

"But it's true," I say with a smirk, happy to see that Hana's time back at court has not completely crushed her sense of humour.

"Ah, I've missed talking to you, Harper," she says with genuine feeling. "The last few days have felt so busy that I feel like we haven't spoken in months!"

"Yeah, tell me about it..." I agree with a huff. "In the space of a week, I've become a Cordonian citizen, been granted a duchy, gone from number five to number one on Madeleine's shit list, and—"

Hana's eyes widen. "It's not that bad, surely...!"

"It's probably worse," I admit. "And being on the front page of the Cordonian Sun — again — is probably not helping matters either..."

"Yes, I saw that article..." she commiserates with feeling. "I'm sorry that the press are treating you in that manner again."

"Hey, it's not your fault," I assure her. "But the press aren't all bad — I managed to convince Ana de Luca to help us track down the photographer who took those pictures of me and Tariq, and she actually came through yesterday."

"That's great!" she enthuses. "I have to admit that I have not had much success on my side... Madeleine does not permit her ladies-in-waiting to handle any of her private correspondence, including her mobile phones and laptop. And she has only talked to us about the upcoming events on the tour..."

"Well, it was a bit of a long-shot, anyway," I concede with a shrug. "But who knows? We might get—"

"Pardon," interrupts Kiara with a pointed cough. "But the Queen requests your presence."

I roll my eyes with a scoff. "She's not married to Christian yet..."

"But she will be soon," she reminds me pointedly. "So, it is actuellement in your interest to remain on her good side, given that you are now a duchess."

I feel the corner of my mouth scrunch into a mou of dissent, but I force myself not to pick apart the many things that are wrong with her statement. "Fine. Where is Her Majesty?"

"Bidding adieu to the President," she advises. "She has asked that in the meantime I gather the ladies who are to accompany her to the wedding boutique."

"Does she really need an entourage to go shopping?" I ask as we start making our way back to the double doors at the far end of the room.

"It is tradition for the suitors who were not picked at the end of the social season to assist the queen-to-be in the preparations for the wedding, including selecting her bridal gown and trousseau."

"Wonder how many times that's gone wrong before..." I mutter under my breath.

"It is a ritual de beaucoup d'importance," Kiara insists seriously. "The former suitors — and their families — demonstrate their public support for the union via the personal assistance they provide the bride and groom in the lead-up to the big day, as well as in the act of taking on key roles during the ceremony itself."

"Let me guess..." I grumble. "We're all going to be maids of honour, too..."

"In Cordonia, the correct term is 'witness'," she corrects. "They are the ones chosen by the couple to countersign the marriage certificate. Mais oui — it is likely that one or two of us will be called upon in such a manner."

"Great..." I sigh, arriving at the entranceway where Penelope and Olivia are already waiting. "All the things we get to look forward to..."

"Oh, Lady Harper!" squeals Penelope in excitement. "I love your dress! How do you always manage to find such super chic pieces?"

"Uhh..." I say, genuinely taken aback by her enthusiasm. "Bertrand picked this, actually..."

Olivia snorts derisively. "You mean Lord Tweedle-Dee? Please... That man has worse fashion sense than Jared Leto."

"Actually, he—"

"If you lot are quite finished with your asinine chit-chit," snaps Madeline as she strides imperiously past us, "you can pick up your feet. We are already running late for my appointment... Which took months to schedule, so don't you dare make me miss it!"

I meet Hana's gaze with a fish-eyed look. "Ever heard the term 'bridezilla' before?"

"No," she admits with a frown. "But it sounds scary..."

"Oh, trust me!" I assure her as we bring up the rear. "It is! Especially since it sounds like Madeleine is planning to take the concept to a whole 'nother level..."

The story continues in Chapter 19: Field Day

A/N: Translations for the Italian below:

At the airport: Andiamo - Let's go

Certamente, Duchessa - Certainly, Duchess

En route Lemura aureliane. Costruitadall'imperatore Aureliano per difendere Roma dai barbari. - The Aurelian Wall. It was constructed by the Emperor Aurelian to defend Rome against barbarians.

Il Circo Massimo - The Circus Maximus

Sì. L'antico stadio romano costruito per le corsedei carri. - Yes. The ancient Roman stadium constructed for chariot racing.

Il Vittoriano - This is a colloquial nickname for the Monument to Victor Emmanuel II

At the Presidential Palace Singor Presidente. Permettetemi di presentarvi altri membri della nostra delegazione. - Mr President. Allow me to introduce some additional members of our delegation.

Certamente - Certainly

Questo è Singor Bertrand Beaumont, duca di Ramsford, e suo fratello, Maxwell. - This is Lord Bertrand Beaumont, Duke of Ramsford, and his brother, Maxwell.

Beaumont... Sai, mi suona familiare. Sei parente di Signor Bartholemy, per caso? - Beaumont... You know, that sounds familiar. Are you related to Lord Bartholemy, by chance?

Sì. Egli è nostro padre. - Yes. He is our father.

Sì...sì... Ha accompagnato il re precedente in molte occasioni. Sei molto simile a lui. - Yes... Yes... He accompanied the former king on many occasions. You look a lot like him.

Sì, la somiglianza di famiglia è forte. - Yes, there is a notable family resemblance.

E questaè Singorina Olivia Nevrakis, duchessa di Lythikos,un mio carissimo amico, e fedele sostenitrice del famiglia Rys. - And this is Lady Olivia Nevrakis, Duchess of Lythikos, a dear friend of mine, and loyal supporter of the Rys family.

E' un piacere conoscerla, Signore Presidente. - My sincere pleasure, Mr President.

Il piacere è tutto mio. - The pleasure is all mine.

E finalmente, questa è Singorina Harper, la nuova duchessa di Valtoria. - And finally, this is Lady Harper, the new Duchess of Valtoria.

Sì. Ma hopraticato mio Italiano.* - Yes. But I am practising my Italian. *Italian speakers will note that there is a grammatical mistake here (the correct phrasing is 'Ho praticato il mio italiano'). However, the mistake is deliberate because Harper learnt Italian literally an hour ago, so she's not going to be perfect at it!

La città eterna - the Eternal City (nickname for Rome)

Accettare le mie scuse - [Please] Accept my apologies.

Vostra Altezza Reale, colleghi delegati, Signore e Signori. È un onore, per me, ospitare la delegazionereale di Cordonia, nostro vicino e stretto alleato per centinaia di anni. Èpassato troppo tempo da— Your Royal Highness, fellow delegates, ladies and gentlemen. It is my honour to host the royal delegation of Cordonia, our neighbour and ally for many centuries. It has been far too long since—

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[realityisweird101]

My Heart is Yours, Do With it as You Wish. (Pt.1)

toxic drake - one-sided drake - drew angst - 2.8k words

cws: mentions of sh (not depicted), mentions of sewerslide (ex: 'it would be better if he wasn't here', 'he just wants to die', 'without ___ he's nothing'), obsession, mentions of violence (nothing really happens), major mood swings, BPD, throwing up, depression, edd, not taking care of oneself rly, implied underage drinking

aka: batshit crazy drew. ur welcome!!<3

Drew's never gotten the ideal of getting friends. Sure, they were amusing, but Drew never felt anything with other people his age.

So he tried. He really did, he tried making a connection, and it worked, since he had friends, but it didn't feel as nice as everyone said it did. Liam and Henry—they were funny people, sure. Drew liked being friends with them, but only a miniscule amount more than everyone else his age.

But—those…freaks. They made Drew feel something other than just tolerance, which was how he felt about almost everyone else. They made his eyes roll, his teeth clench, his smirk turn from just smugness to full on cockyness. 

And so Drew made sure they hated him, so he had a reason to hate them.

 

It was better than just…nothing, after all. So, he became some sort of bully, which wasn't his goal, but it still made that purple-haired weirdo hate him, and so the rest did as well.

But…but then—

Drew's eyes caught chocolate brown ones. They were warm—so warm, and Drew loved them.

Jake.

Jake.

Jake Sterling.

That name sounded so right in his brain, occupying it's own space, pushing all unnecessary affairs aside. 

Jake.

Jake became his new best friend, and Drew finally understood the ideal of getting a best friend. This…this warmth in his chest was better than anything he had ever felt before. Sure, hatred was better than…whatever he felt before, but happiness felt like fireworks erupting in his stomach, like hot chocolate on a cold, cold day.

Drew supposes that was how he felt before. Cold. With twinges of joy and hatred at times.

So Jake remained his best friend. And the music club remained his enemies. And life went on as it should, with equal amounts of hate and joy, which made his life finally feel complete.

_______

Daisy.

Daisy was a nice person, Drew tolerated her a bit more than everyone else.

(But she was the reason why Jake went away, why he left Drew—left forever.)

Jake liked Daisy. He had an idiotic crush on her, which led him to him leaving Drew, and him joining the music club of all things. But, Jake was still his best friend, so it was fine. It was okay.

_______

“Dreewww! Don't you think about anything other than Jake? Seriously, you're glaring at your lunch as if it killed your grandma. Or Jake, since you probably care about him more than your grandma.” Henry said in a sing-song voice. He was probably joking, but now that Drew thought about it, he never felt anything for anyone else. Sure, he wasn't emotionless, but he didn't particularly care if they broke an arm, or something.

Drew never did care much about his grandma. He had never met her, either, so that was probably it. 

…he remembered something his parents said about a dead mother or father, but why would Drew care if he didn't feel anything about it?

“Shut up, Henry. And it's just the fact that he keeps on ditching us to hang out with those…freaks. God, they're probably going to embarrass themselves all over again.” Drew grumbled, picking at the school lunch. It looked gross. Even grosser than usual, and wasn’t that strange.

“If I didn't know better, I would think you're in loove!” Liam snickered, winking seductively, and Drew glared at him.

“No, you idiots. We're just friends, duh.” Drew mumbled. “‘Thought that was what everyone meant.” He mumbled even quieter, afterwards.

“Dude, I get that you're…friends. It's just that you never act like that about Liam and I, and you're practically always obsessing about Jake. It's not really best-friend-esque.” Henry said, taking a sip of his signature lettuce juice, which is…gross, by the way.

“Whatever. I like Jake, I like both of you, I don't like the music freaks, end of discussion.” Drew said, staring at both of them in a way that dared them to disagree.

They changed the subject.

_______

Zoey. Zoey was a strange phenomenon. At first, Drew was convinced he liked her. Maybe it was those brown eyes, or the blonde and pink hair. 

Or maybe it was the fact that he could barely piece his memories together, since all the ones without Jake had slipped out of his mind.

…and there were far more memories without Jake than with him, at the time. He had to spend a few days rearranging his memories, since he could barely remember what his own name was.

But, he did care about Zoey, a little bit of happiness which drove him to her. She wasn't nice, but she made the perfect model-girlfriend, so Drew didn't care much.

He did care about her though, he wanted her to be happy, so she didn't know that he wasn't.

But after Jake, Drew's care started to dwindle…

______

“Drew? Drew, what's wrong? Drew?” Liam—Liam? That name sounded wrong. 

Jake, saying his name, the way his mouth moved.

Jake, blinking, the way his lashes collided as his eyes closed.

Jake, walking, walking closer to him—

Jake, his Jake—

“Mmph.” Drew…Drew, grumbled. His head felt light, and heavy, although his heart felt lighter. He had a headache, and he…where was Jake?

“Drew, seriously, you're scaring me.” Henry said, sounding concerned. Drew didn't know why they were worried.

And where was Jake? 

“Wh't's ‘rong?” Drew mumbled, his words slurring together.

Jake, smiling, the way his teeth shimmered in the sunlight.

Jake, holding a remote controller, how he did a stupid dance to celebrate his win.

Jake, crying, as he poured his guts out to him.

Jake, his Jake, his perfect Jake—

“You—you haven't been to school in days, and you won't text us. Or Jake, and you always text Jake back.” Liam mumbled, and he seemed a bit upset by that fact.

Jake, he didn't text Jake back? Oh. Oh Jake probably hated him, and he couldn't have that—

Where was his phone? Wait. When did he get a phone? Why were they in his house? How did they get into his house? How long had it been?

Jake, brushing his hair.

Jake, hugging him, telling him it would be okay.

Jake, calling him when Drew couldn't breathe—

Jake, his oxygen, his sun, his world—

“Drew, talk to us. Your eyes keep on going hazy—have you even eaten? Have you slept? What's wrong?” Henry tried, his hands on Drew's shoulders, shaking him, and Drew blinked.

“‘M okay. Uh…jus’...tired.” Drew mumbled, and tried keeping the haze of Jake from obscuring his vision. 

“Shut up! You're not fine, Drew. You're—you're not anything! You're sitting here, doing God knows what! You're not talking to anyone, not contacting anyone, and you won’t even eat, sleep, or anything!” Liam burst out, and, and—

He had eyebags under his eyes, his usually styled hair was messy—as if someone brushed a hand in it too many times, and he was dressed in only sweatpants and a loose shirt. He looked stressed. But Drew didn't care because Jake—

Drew wanted Jake to hold him. He wanted Jake to love him. He wanted Jake, point blank. He…

…felt a tear roll down his face.

“‘M sorry, okay? I didn't—I'm trying, to be a human, to be real, to be Drew. I'm trying to be alive, to eat, to sleep, to be functional. But nothing matters and I'm trying to find something that matters but the only thing that matters is Jake and he's gone.” Drew gasped out, and he was. 

“Drew—Drew. Don't—Don't cry. It's—Jake's not gone, he's here, we're here, aren't we enough?” Henry said, and he had tears streaming down his face. Drew couldn't, he couldn't look at one of his best friends cry like that—

He let himself drift away with the haze, because in the haze there were no heartbroken friends, no aching hearts, no need to be human.

In the haze there was Jake.

And Jake was enough for Drew, better than the world, than the sun, than anything else in the world.

_______

Drew looked at the blonde haired boy beside him, and smiled, wider than he had in a while. 

Jake caught his eye, and looked surprised for a moment, his eyebrows shooting up, but smiled back widely, if not wider than Drew.

It made a burst of warmth fill Drew. 

Jake was his. He loved Jake. (But not like that, he was a guy. Drew doesn't love guys.) 

_______

Drew looked at Jake and Hailey.

Hailey, a stupid freak who had stolen Jake.

Jake looked so happy, he was smiling, he was grinning, he was laughing.

Drew wanted to tear her apart, to rip out her heart, to drive her away. 

Jake was happy, he was happier without Drew. 

He couldn't be, he wasn't he couldn't—

_______

Drew slammed his back against his bedroom door, glad his parents weren't here, and screamed.

_______

Drew giggled, and stared at the photo in his hand. It was a photo of the ‘Jomies’, and there was Jake and he was smiling.

He looked happy with Drew.

(Not as happy as he was with that freak—)

He scribbled the other faces with black marker.

It was Jake, wasn't it? And he was smiling, and he wasn't with those freaks. Oh, it was Jake, fantastic, wonderful, beautiful Jake.

_______

“Go away, go away, go away, go the fuck AWAY—”

The brown haired boy looked afraid, but left him alone anyways.

_______

Drew didn't want to get up. He didn't want to do anything.

He wanted Jake. He needed Jake, but Jake didn't need him.

Oh, wasn't that funny?

The one, one person Drew loved—loved, wasn't that hilarious?—had left him.

And Drew called him a freak, the final nail in the coffin.

God, Drew couldn't, he couldn't he couldn't breathe he couldn't speak because—

_______

Drew: hi

Liam: drew? drew r u ok? that was heated. r u ok? 

Liam: shuld i come ovr?

Drew: no. don't. actually, fuck you.

Liam: ???

Drew: fuck u. if u hadn't stayed with me maybe jake would've stayed. maybe 

Liam: drew, dude, ur making no sense.

Drew: i dint care, he's gone, okay? he's GONE. don't you fucking understand? he's gone, liam, he hates me. us.

Liam: drew, pls, are u okay?

Drew: fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.

Drew: he's gone, and ur asking if im okay? he's gone, he's gone, liam.

Drew: go away, fuck you, fuck me, i should've done something. i should've just left the freaks alone because i already felt something and so there was no point and it's all my fucking fault oh god

_______

Jake won the competition.

Drew should feel happy about this.

(He doesn't.)

Maybe something’s wrong with him. He knew something was wrong with him. He just…ignored it, because it didn't matter.

But that was the problem.

Nothing mattered.

Everything felt insignificant. He felt things, but he felt things so minorly that most of the time he could barely manage a smile.

And so—so when he felt an actual emotion, it was overwhelming and he needed—

_______

He screamed and screamed and screamed until his throat felt raw—

_______

Crimson.

The color reminded him of something.

Of freckles, eyes, and soft words.

And disgusting jokes.

But all he could think of was chocolate brown eyes.

Of warm hugs.

Of stupid jokes and stupid haircuts.

Of love.

Something hurt.

Maybe it was his heart.

_______

Henry: drew? drewy-bear!!!

Drew: ?

Henry: OH HI I DIDNG THINK U WOULD ACTUALLY RESPOND

Henry: haha i mean hello dude

Henry: uve been ghosting us 4 a while now, u okay?

Drew: yeah

Drew: im fine

Henry: we could come over, if u'd like.

Drew: No.

Drew: don't. I'm fine.

Henry: …

Henry: that wasn't a question, dude:)

Henry: we're coming over.

_______

Drew wrapped bandages around his arms because they were bloody and he didn't know why.

Jake was still gone.

He hadn't texted him, or anything.

Drew felt…he felt…shit—

“Drew! You look like shit!” Henry exclaimed, and Drew jumped. He had a grin on his face, which faltered slightly when he actually looked at Drew. “Really, really fucked up shit.” He added, more concerned that time.

“Yo.” Liam said, looking slightly better than he did the last time Drew saw him. “Oh, you do look like shit. Have you eaten? Or slept? Or showered? It's been like, a week, dude.” Liam asked, and Drew blinked at him.

It felt like much, much longer.

Henry and Liam helped him eat something, and didn't say anything when he couldn't manage anything down.

Henry and Liam helped him take a shower, and brush his teeth.

They helped him re-dye his hair, because his real hair color made him feel antsy.

They helped him clean up his room, which had become a mess.

They helped him go outside. Only for a short walk, but it was something.

They helped him feel human.

They saw his arms, which Drew couldn't clean because he didn't want to see them. 

They hid all his sharp items, for a reason Drew couldn't understand.

They played a video game with him.

They stayed the night, and they all had a cuddlefest during the night.

They didn't say anything when he woke up during the night, they didn't say anything when he cried in their arms, they didn't say anything when he couldn't breathe.

(Well, they did say something. But only good things.)

They made him feel human again.

But of course, that just had to get ruined—

______

He screamed, he screamed because he needed Jake and he was gone and he screamed and screamed and—

______

He wanted to cry, to cry and cry and die.

Not die. That was a bit too far.

(But he was nothing without Jake, so what was the point in living?)

______

Everything felt hazy.

He took a sip.

His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

He took a sip.

Where was he anymore?

He took a sip.

He couldn't remember anything.

He took a sip.

He was outside somewhere, wasn't he?

He took a sip.

“Drew?”

He dropped the bottle.

_______

Drew opened his eyes, which felt much too heavy. His arms stung—that wasn't good. He couldn't remember what happened last night, but his head was throbbing and his mouth tasted acidic.

“Drew, you awake?” A soft voice spoke, and Drew felt his heart melt somewhat. “You—you okay?” The voice asked, and Drew hummed.

“‘Mm, ‘m ‘Kay.” He mumbled, “head ‘urts.” He huffed, and opened his eyes a little. The light burned his eyes, as he suspected, but he could see brown hair and red eyes.

Liam.

Huh. Why did he go to Liam's house?

“You're lucky my parents aren't here, y'know. They would kill me if they knew I had a guy over. ‘Specially if it was you.” Liam huffed, and Drew's face twisted in confusion.

“Why especially me?” Drew asked, and Liam didn't answer.

“...Drew. How…how…how'd you get something sharp? I just…I thought me and Henry…” Liam started, and Drew stiffened. He…he didn't—

Liam didn't push any further. 

Drew was glad.

_______

The first time Drew went to school without Jake was two weeks after they stopped being friends. No one really noticed Drew was gone, and so no one noticed he had come back.

“Yeah! You're back! The Dromies are back together!” Henry exclaimed, a wide grin on his face.

And…and Drew felt something.

“What the hell are the Dromies?” Drew asked, rolling his eyes. Of course, during his fit Henry and Liam went on to name their trio something stupid.

“Homies, but Drew style!” Henry exclaimed, shooting finger guns at Drew, who cringed.

“Uh. I do not have a style, thank you very much. Never do…that, again.” Drew said, gesturing at all of Henry. Liam let out a choked laugh, and suddenly Henry started laughing as well, and well, if Drew started laughing a tiny bit, no he didn't.

_______

Drew saw Jake in the hallway and his heart dropped.

He looked…so happy.

He was with the freaks—the entire gang, and of course he and Hailey were glued together like peanut butter and jelly. He was grinning, joking around, and laughing whenever Hailey blushed.

Blushed.

Were they dating?

Were they—

Drew rushed to the nearest bathroom, and puked his guts out.

He couldn't even look at Jake.

How pathetic.

_______

And that's the end of pt.1! errm i hope it was ok?? idk. so like it's disorganized in the writing and that was on purpose bc ofc drew's head is a bit mushed up at the moment. if it doesn't make sense at some parts, it probably isn't rly supposed to, but u probs still get the gist that drew is OBSESSED, riggght?

also. the way Henry and Liam are handling what's going on may seem bad (ex: not telling anyone, not getting drew any help) but i don't rly think so bc for teenagers the way they dealt with it was pretty cool, and if they told anyone drew would probs js not improve at all and probs would've gotten worse so like idk js wanted to let yall know that. they were probs kind of freaking out as well so that's a reason.

[angelasscribbles]

Savage Love Chapter 38: Here Comes the Bride?

Series: Savage Love

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Rating: R         

Warnings: Mature themes

Word Count: 2,169

My other stuff: Master List.

The moment we were back on Cordonian soil, and I was free of Madeleine, I texted Liam, asking for an immediate meeting.

He responded instantly. Come to my quarters. Leo is here now.

I made my way to Liam’s private suite. He was alone with his brother. He swept me into his arms, pressing me close to his body as he whispered, “I was worried about you. I’m so glad you’re back.”

I melted into his embrace for a moment before remembering that I was there to give my official report about what I’d learned in Hidar. Noting that no one else was present, I asked, “Should we wait until the entire team is assembled?”

Liam shook his head. “We can brief them later on the parts they need to know. Tell us what happened in Hidar. Was Lena there?”

“No. She wasn’t. Was she in Rivala?”

Leo looked at Liam, who nodded, then turned to me and said, “She wasn’t home, but her mother was. Her mother turns out to be my mother. My biological one, I mean.”

“Oh wow! Oh, Leo.” I crossed the room and sat on the couch next to him so that I could throw my arms around him. “That must have been so hard for you! Are you okay?”

He returned the hug quickly, then released me as he answered. “Yeah…I mean, no, not really, but yes. Liv was with me. I’ll be fine. It’s a lot to process, but the short version is that when Eleanor was alive, she let my mom see me secretly. The plan was for her to take me and Liam with her when she went back to Auvernall for Lena. Obviously, that never happened and Helena ended up adopting an alias and raising the baby herself.”

“That is a lot!” I sympathized.

“That’s not the biggest bombshell,” Liam interjected. “Turns out Constantine wasn’t the baby’s father and that’s why she ran away.”

Oh, boy. The hits just kept coming. I stood and turned to Liam, my eyes tracking across his face, looking for signs of distress. “And how are you handling that news?”

“I’m not judging her if that’s what you mean, and I don’t blame her either. Our father isn’t an easy man to love and I’m sure he wasn’t a great husband. The bigger twist is who she was having an affair with.”

My head swiveled between the two men. “Who was it?”

Leo answered. “Jackson Walker.”

“Drake’s father?”

“Yes.”

My heart dropped. “Does he know?”

Liam gave me an understanding smile as he reached out and took my hand in his. “You’re worried about him.”

“Yes, Liam. I’m worried about all of you! This is a huge shock for everyone, I’m sure, and it’s not even the biggest issue in your life at the moment.”

The biggest issue was the threat to life and limb that the Via Imperii posed. Not to mention Liam having to get up to speed on becoming king since he’d had the crown unexpectedly thrust upon him just days before.

I filled them in on everything that had happened in Hidar.

“Wow.” Leo grasped a handful of his own hair as he took in the information. “First, we find out we have a sister, then I find out she’s not my sister, and now we have a brother.”

“One that’s been weaponized against us,” Liam added.

“We can try to extract him when take them down. Give orders that he isn’t to be killed,” I offered. “Maybe he can be deprogrammed.”

“Maybe,” He replied doubtfully.

“It’s worth a try,” Leo argued. “We don’t know what he’s been told or how he feels about any of it.”

“Great.” I nodded, “I’ll make sure the team that breeches has his photograph and understands he’s to be taken alive.”

Leo raised an eyebrow. “Are we ready to breech?”

“Hopefully soon.” Getting their brother safely out of Via Imperii control added yet another layer to my resolve to take down the entire thing, not just the local branch.

“Did you learn anything else that we need to know?” Liam asked.

I shook my head.

“Well, I have news. While you were gone, I received the same invitation to join the Via Imperii that Leo received.”

“I don’t suppose you’d be open to playing along by accepting the invitation and pretending to—”

“Absolutely not.”

I suppressed a sigh of frustration. “You are expected to pick a bride at the end of the week!”

My time was running out.

“That seems unreasonable given that I just took over the role of crown prince less than a week ago.”

“About that.” Leo interrupted. “I’ve met with father and we agreed to a course of action. I’ll be officially announcing my pick and my abdication at the same time. So technically, the goal of me finding a wife will be satisfied, so hopefully the suitors won’t feel they have wasted their time.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant!” I nodded my approval. “Announce your choice first, so that the suitors and their families don’t feel tricked, and then announce that you’re stepping down so that the Via Imperii don’t see your choice as a threat.”

“That’s great!” Liam’s face brightened. “Then I can just wait until next year to pick a wife!”

“Yeah…. sorry, but I pitched that idea to dear old Dad, and he insisted that you choose someone now.”

“But—”

Sympathy passed across Leo’s face. “I get it. But I also agree that it needs to happen now.”

“Why?”

“Because you have to be engaged to ascend the throne and let’s face it…. Our father is getting worse by the day. He needs to retire. This morning he was sharp as a tack, but by lunchtime he thought I was Uncle Fabian.”

Liam uttered a string of swear words that I would have sworn he didn’t know.

“I know. And I’m sorry. If I hadn’t dropped this in your lap—”

“What? No!” Liam shook his head adamantly. “Your hand was forced, Leo. It’s fine. I don’t mind picking up the crown. It’s just the marriage part…” he trailed off as his eyes found mine.

The desperation in his eyes killed me a little. He had to marry, there was no choice about that. The only choice was who. He didn’t want to marry someone he wasn’t in love with.

He was in love with me.

That thought sent warmth cascading through me. It wasn’t the time to think about that, though. “What about just pretending to pick Madeleine? You can always break the engagement after we take down the—”

“That won’t work.” Liam shook his head. “A marriage contract must be signed at the conclusion of the selection ceremony. I would need cause to break it.”

“Proof that she’s a member of an organization trying to take over the government ought to do it, right?”

“The wedding is two weeks after the engagement,” Leo broke in. “If you don’t take them down quickly enough, then she will be queen, with access to classified information and places inside the palace. We can’t risk it.”

Liam stepped closer to me and took my hand in his as his eyes searched my face. “Does the idea of me marrying someone else do nothing to you, Riley?”

“I….” I had no easy answer for him, or for myself. I had no issue with him getting fake engaged to Madeleine for the purpose of taking down the bad guys. Hell, I’d accepted a proposal or two in the course of my career. But the idea of him actually marrying someone…. anyone…. bothered me far more than I was willing to admit.

My personal feelings aside, choosing any of the other suitors was going to get him killed. I stared into his eyes as all the available options fell through my mind. The thought of him being hurt…. Or worse... sent all my professionalism flying out the window.

“Of course I don’t want to see you marry someone else,” I said softly before snapping back into work mode and stepping away from him. “And there’s the added wrinkle that if you choose anyone that the Via Imperii doesn’t approve of, her life will be in danger. Not to mention yours.”

“I’m open to ideas.” His voice was suspiciously devoid of emotion.

There was only one answer, and we both knew it.

“Choose me.”

A storm of emotions chased each other across his face. “I want to, Riley but I can’t ask you to—”

“You’re not asking. It was my idea.”

“Yes. However, I know that you don’t actually want to get married.”

Leo stood from the couch. “I should go. Let you two sort this out.” He stopped on his way to the door to lean in and whisper to me, “Don’t let your intractable stubbornness get in the way of your happiness, double oh seven. Tell him how you feel.”

Once we were alone, we turned to each other, the air around us laden with emotion. “I can’t choose you, Riley.”

“Yes, Liam, you can!”

A sad smile flittered across his face. “I’ve made no secret of my feelings nor my intentions. I would marry you tomorrow if that’s what you wanted.”

“It is what I want.”

He shook his head. “As I said, you would be expected to sign an iron clad marriage contract upon acceptance of the engagement. One you would not be able to break later. Agreeing to marry to take down the Via Imperii will not constitute adequate cause to terminate the contract, as you will have entered into it knowingly and willingly, no matter your motives.”

I stepped closer to him as my heart began to thud in my chest. My eyes locked on his, drinking in all the longing and desperation that I found there. “I understand that.”

Hope flashed through his eyes. “You’d have to actually marry me.”

“I know.”

He stepped into my personal space, his eyes searching mine. “You’re prepared to spend the rest of your life with me?”

I shrugged, trying for a nonchalance that I did not feel. “Unless we can take them down in the next six days.”

“Is there any chance of that happening?”

“To be honest, we could take down the Cordonian branch right now.”

“But?”

I traced my fingers down his face and across his lips, my eyes taking in his hopeful expression.

His hand reached out to grasp mine. Bringing my fingers to his lips, he kissed each one individually.

My voice was thick as I whispered, “They’ll just come back. New people will take their place and you’ll never be safe.” I cleared my throat and forced a smidge of professionalism into my voice. “We have to cut off the head.”

It was the only way to keep him safe long term. It might take the Via Imperii months to years to regroup and set up a new branch in Cordonia, but regroup they would and Liam would be their first target.

His eyes lit up with delight. “You’re worried about me.”

“Of course I am.” Pulling my hand out of his grasp, I scoffed. “I’d be an idiot not to recognize the danger. Not only will they want to realize their original ends, but they’ll be out for vengeance on the monarch that helped take them down.”

“Do you always worry about the long term repercussions of your missions? Or do you usually just complete the assignment and get out?”

I stared at him in consternation. I didn’t want to answer that because the truth was that I never worried about what happened after I left. I took down my target. Cleaning up the aftermath was someone else’s job. Leo’s words echoed through my head, and I suppressed the smile that fought to bloom across my face. With a shake of my head, I lost the fight. “You’re incorrigible, you know that? I see what you’re doing.”

“What?” He grinned as he reached for me and pulled me back into his embrace. “Tell me you’re not acting illogically because you love me.”

“Shut up,” I breathed as my head fell back, giving him access to my neck and anything else he wanted.

He was right, but I wasn’t ready to say it out loud. I couldn’t.

Maybe it was a toxic trait. Maybe it was a self protection mechanism. Maybe I was just bad at relationships. Or maybe it was my equally strong feelings for his best friend that kept those three little words off the tip of my tongue.

Spoken out loud or not, my feelings…. And yes, it was time to admit that I had them…. My feelings for him were driving my decisions, not my professional ambition or my years of experience as a field agent. Leaving him vulnerable to assassination was simply not an option for me.

I would do whatever I had to do to ensure his safety, and I didn’t care about the cost.

[dcbbw]

Catch and Release

I’m back, Tumblr! Unsure if anyone even realized I was gone, but I have missed sharing stories with you guys. I am slowly easing my way back into writing on a somewhat semi-regular basis; currently working on a couple of items on my WIP Wishlist, and Stormholt.

First up is a story that is my “hold my beer” response to a recent conversation I had with @ao719 about how Liam would never be a cold-hearted asshole EVER, even in the face of betrayal. This is a rewrite of the Drake and candles scene during the Homecoming Ball, sans assassins.

This is a one-shot, but already toying with an alternate version ….

THANK YOU to all who read this over in parts and pieces! The key smashes and follow-up questions reminded me why I love writing, and sharing on this hellsite.

To those who will read this, THANK YOU! Your likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated more than you realize.

Please excuse any and all typos, grammatical errors, and missing/extraneous words. MS Editor rates this piece as 99% error free.

Song Inspo: Fine Line, Harry Styles

Pairings: Liam x Riley, Drake x Riley

Rating: M for Mature for a smallish, unripe lemon

Word Count: 3,213

I can’t breathe.

My arms are stiff by my sides, hands tightly clenched into fists. The pain in my heart aches and pulses with every breath I draw. The rage that boils my blood also tightens my throat. Images flicker through my brain, snapshots of the scene I walked in on.  Even as my mind reels from the betrayal and my heart falls into a million pieces that shred me from the inside out, I still try to justify and deny.

My eyes are fixed on my fiancée who still sits on the edge of her bed; her eyes are trained on her slip-covered lap. I notice the fingers of one of her hands comb through her hair; the other hand lays limply against silk sheets.

Her skin is golden in the candlelight, her hitched sobs mixing with the crackle and hiss of the wax torches’ flames.  For reasons known only to Drake and Riley, there are dozens of lit candles covering nearly every available surface. No lamplight, no overhead lighting.

Just candles.

She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and the only woman I’ve ever hated.

No. I don’t hate her, not really. But in this very moment, I see why crimes of passion are committed.

Drake. Naked. Kissing her neck before their lips lock in a heated kiss.

Riley. Clad in only a slip. One of her hands stroking his member as she slides to her knees.

“Liam,” she says softly in a quavering voice.

I shake my head slowly. “No, Riley. Whatever you have to say right now, I don’t want to hear it.”

She swings her leg; it’s a nervous habit she has. One of the swings increases into a stretch and I wonder if it’s deliberate.  Her leg is long and tanned; my eyes take in a luscious thigh leading into a toned calf that flows into a shapely ankle. Her perfectly manicured toes point downward as she arches her foot.

Her limb is suspended for a moment too long before it falls.

The moment it takes for my cock to stiffen and butterflies to take up residence in my stomach.

She turns her face towards me; I see her lipstick smeared across her mouth, shiny streaks on her cheeks, and regret in her eyes.

Regret. Not remorse.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” Her voice is thick with tears.

Our relationship has been littered with apologies … always from me … beginning with our first meeting. If I could, I would laugh at the irony that the one apology I find myself repeating stemmed from accusations of the American suitor being unfaithful to the future King.

The rumors weren’t so unfounded after all.

This is her first admission of guilt and/or wrongdoing our entire time together.

She has no choice.

I attempt a deep inhale, but my chest is too tight.

The wedding is in one week.

“Yes, Liam yes!!! A THOUSAND TIMES, yes!”

Tonight is the Homecoming Ball; a celebration of many things, including our engagement.

I caught her … them … the woman I love madly, truly, deeply and the man I trust more than anything in the world … preparing to indulge in an act I consider so sacred, I have never dared to ask her to perform it while we are merely engaged.

I manage to choke out a single question. “Why?”

Her shoulders slump as her head falls forward, causing her hair to cover her profile. “It hasn’t been going on long; it started on the Engagement Tour. I told him in Vegas that what we had would have to end.”

I watched her leave the stag-and-doe party arm-in-arm with Drake Walker. My best friend, with whom Riley wanted to have a fling. She swore it was a one-time affair; she was so much in love with me, but she wished to satisfy her curiosity.

I attempted to leave first, but I was not only one of the honorees, I was also King.

Per traditional protocol, the King is the last to leave.

So I remained behind, drinking copious amounts of American liquor, making small talk in a loud voice so as to be heard over noisy music, and dancing with women I had previously rejected.

All while Riley spent the night with another man.

“But it hasn’t,” I interrupt harshly, abruptly.

Her gaze lands briefly upon me, an irritated scowl marring her features. “I don’t love him,” she says simply, as if that excused everything.

I turn away from her; as disgusted as I am, I still find Riley Brooks distractingly desirable. I say that as if we’ve been treading this road of infidelity and discovery for years and years. Except it’s only been months since we first met, and if I hadn’t come looking for her this evening, I still would be none the wiser.

She was in my arms, kissing me deeply as we waltzed our way around the ballroom barely an hour ago. 

We beamed brightly at each other and the crowd as the gathering toasted us with champagne and strawberries.

I smoked a celebratory cigar with Drake.

An hour ago, I was the luckiest man in the world. I was happy.

Now ... I’m heartbroken.

I stumble my way towards a wingback chair, pausing to shrug out of my dinner jacket and drape it across the back of it. I sit heavily, legs spread slightly apart; I push off my shoes and undo my tie while maintaining eye contact with my fiancée.

“I’m highly upset with you, Riley. This … this has hurt me. Deeply.”

“I know,” she whispers as the back of her hand swipes at errant tears. “Other than promising that this will never happen again, what can I do to make it up to you?”

The pad of my forefinger taps my chin thoughtfully as my eyes scan the room. I see the flames flicker and dance in silhouette against the walls. One of Drake’s shoes lies on its side near her night table.

When I cleared my throat to announce my presence, his eyes had gone wide as his face paled. Drake gathered his clothing, trying vainly to make eye contact with Riley; however, she was suddenly fascinated with the pattern decorating the carpet.

I could practically hear his unspoken question to her: What does this mean for us?

In less than a minute, my “best friend” was half-dressed and ran out, not speaking one word to either me or Riley.

“I’m not sure. You know I harbor trust issues about being open, honest … vulnerable, with women. No one’s ever wanted Liam for Liam; I have always been merely a conduit to bigger and better.”

And apparently, best friends.

“Liam, I love YOU. Not your moniker, not your wealth. Tonight … with Drake … was a moment of weakness!  YOU are my bigger and better!

I arch an eyebrow.  “Whatever the excuse, your love for me doesn’t diminish the lust you have for him.”

She has the decency to look ashamed.

“Please, Liam! It won’t happen again, I swear it! You mean too much to me! Just tell me how to make this up to you!”

Her pleas are urgent, not fervent. Insincere, almost.

I find the lack of apology perturbing.

 It is obvious she has no idea the jeopardy she has put me, and our relationship in. Very few at Court are in favor of our impending nuptials due to the simple fact that a union with a foreign commoner yields nothing for the Crown. A marriage with Riley does not increase Cordonia’s landholdings; it does not give the country seats at tables where we are already overlooked; I, and by extension Cordonia, gain absolutely nothing from this.

Riley is the only winner here.

And I don’t care.

The last thing my country is worried about is its fiscal health. Our prosperity is guaranteed for the next 80 generations without investments and development. All I wanted from Riley was her love and loyalty; with that, I would be able to scale mountains and slay dragons. But even the bare minimum I require is too much for her to give.

But I’m in love with her. Even now, I can’t not be with her in some fashion. I need to know that she is still mine, even if only in the basest of ways.

I unfasten my belt buckle and undo my pant button; my cock is uncomfortably hard. I crook my finger, beckoning her to me, wondering how many times the woman I have put first, the woman who influences my thoughts, actions, my very decisions has given me sloppy seconds.

An expression fleetingly crosses Riley’s face; I am uncertain if it’s hope or smugness. After a moment’s hesitation, her walk of shame towards me is contrite, yet confident. Like a child who knows they’ve done wrong but realizes a way of escaping punishment.

I tug my zipper down before slipping my hand inside to release my raging erection. The head of my cock is purplish in the muted lighting and pre-cum leaks from the tip. My hips arch upwards as I begin to pull my pants and underwear down. My eyes glance up to see Riley standing expectantly before me.

It reminds me of our first meeting in that bar in Brooklyn.

“A little help would be nice,” I quip with a small smile that doesn’t feel quite right.

She kneels before me, pulling and tugging at my trousers and silk boxers. My eyes are trained on the rounded tops of her cleavage as my hand slowly slides along my member. Once Riley’s task is finished, she looks up at me with repentant eyes.

“Do you forgive me, Liam?” Her voice is hesitant, her tone tentative.

I lean forward, the back of my fingertips caressing the curve of her cheek. “I’m in love with you, Riley. There’s nothing to forgive,” I assure her in a soft whisper.

She leans into my palm. “I love you so much. I’ll never lie to you, or hurt you ever again,” she promises.

I aim my cock towards her plump lips, still smeared from her earlier kiss with Drake. Small halos of smoke wreath her hair.

“Would you … could you … perform oral on me?” My voice is shy, hesitant. Even in the face of her obvious infidelity, I am uncomfortable asking her this.

Her eyes fill with relief that forgiveness would come so easily, and wariness at the request. “You’ve never asked for that before.”

I lock eyes with her before quietly replying, “We’re betrothed.”

She nods in understanding. If that act is good enough for her lover, it’s certainly good enough for the man who will make her Queen.

Riley places her palms flat against the top of my thighs; her head dips and I feel the tip of her tongue lightly lick my balls. It tickles, but no mirth escapes my lips. Without thought my hand drifts to the top of her head, fingers combing through her soft hair.

The flat of her tongue licks wetly up the underside of my cock while she cups a hand to fondle my balls. I stare down at her cleavage, the rounded tops of her breasts teasing me as they rise and fall in time with her breathing and ministrations.

My head falls back against the chair’s headrest when her mouth opens wide enough to engulf half of my cock. When she has a tad over half of me in her mouth, she hollows her cheeks and snakes her tongue around my erection while stroking its base.

Memories and images flash in my mind as my hand tightens its grip on her hair.

Kismet.

The Masquerade Ball

Hedge Maze

Cronuts

Forgotten Falls

Deep pants escape my lips as I simultaneously lift my head and slide down further into the chair; my hips arch upwards. Riley’s head bobs as she sucks me. A thin line of drool ekes from a corner of her mouth. My cock eases deeper down her throat, and my hand pulls and pushes at her head to get to take all of me.

I close my eyes as her warm mouth tightens around me.

Coronation Night

Fydelia

Barn Raising

Italy

Her gagging breaks my reverie and hardens my cock even more. I sit up, my palms pressed against either side of her skull as I begin fucking her mouth. Her eyes are closed; bliss or boredom, I don’t know. Her lashes are dark against her skin.

“Look at me,” I order in a voice that isn’t mine.

Obediently her eyes open; her jaw and chin are wet with spittle and pre-cum. She continues to suck me, emitting low moans over my member. My strokes get faster, longer, rougher. My balls are heavy, and I feel a tightening in my muscles before the last image flashes before me.

The scene I walked in on.

With a harsh yank, I pull her even further down onto my cock as I push myself down her esophagus as far as I can. A primal yell rips from my throat as an intense orgasm comes over me. My body shudders and convulses as ropes of white cream pulse out of me.

As my seed fills my fiancée’s mouth and spills down her throat, I forcefully tug her hair so she is looking up at me; her eyes are questioning.

It takes me a moment to compose myself and catch my breath. I watch Riley swallow all that I have given her.

“The engagement is off. Our relationship is over. I am finished, do you understand me?” My voice is gravelly, tone firm. “You shall retain your title of Duchess, and ownership of Duchy Valtoria, but you will never be my Queen.”

Fright and fear fill her eyes. The heels of her hands press deeper into my flesh as she attempts to pull away from my cock, but I don’t relinquish my hold.

“A press release will go out tomorrow afternoon, after security and housekeeping move you and your belongings to the South Wing.  I think you will appreciate being closer to Drake Walker.”

I release Riley’s hair, and she falls back on her haunches.

“WHAT are you talking about??” she demands angrily.

I stand and begin collecting my clothing; I step into my boxers, glancing over at her.

“I trust you fully comprehend what I just stated. I believe I communicated openly and honestly what our next steps are. Already, I have offered you more than you or Drake have ever given me.”

I glance at her left hand; the engagement ring glints in the light. “I would like my ring back, please.”

I am tucking my shirt into my pants when I see her rise from the floor and come at me, fists flailing. Her pummels upon my arm and shoulder are no surprise.

“YOU BASTARD! YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” she rasps as her fists beat on my shirt. “YOU JUST SAID THERE IS NOTHING TO FORGIVE!”

I do not defend myself against the attack; I merely sidestep and continue dressing.

“And there isn’t. I will once again assume the guilt and blame for your lack of transparency and communication. But this is the last time. We’re over.”

I reach for my jacket from the back of the chair and begin to pull it on. Riley’s face is twisted in rage and hurt; her eyes are narrowed into slits.

I look her over impassively and hold my hand out, palm up. “The ring, Lady Riley.”

“FUCK YOU,” she shrieks. “This is ALLLL your fault, and you KNOW IT! If you had never picked Madeleine …”

“I picked her because neither you nor your lover felt the need to tell me what happened in Applewood, something I have never been offered an assurance or reason for. I made a decision for your safety and protection with absolutely no context. I have apologized and explained this to you over and over and over again.”

Riley blanches before playing her last card. “My BEST protection would’ve been with you, under your care!”

“My engagement to Madeleine was the most viable protection. With all eyes on me and my fiancée, it took the target off you, and freed up our friend circle to freely pursue Tariq with the aid of my HEAD GUARD!”

I cut my eyes at her. “Presumably you were too busy justifying spending all of your time with another to even consider that I was the doing the very best I could in a situation that I was blindly thrust into.”

I jostle my hand impatiently. “The ring,” I remind her.

Her mouth hangs open slightly, her eyes baffled as she slowly pulls off the engagement ring. Her fingers hover above my palm before dropping the jewelry into it.

“Liam, why are you doing this to me? To us?” she asks brokenly.

I am slipping the ring into my jacket pocket; I pause to look up at her in puzzlement.

“Me? You did this, Riley. You have been holding onto one incident our entire relationship while committing multiple transgressions against my love for you. You accepted my proposal. You betrayed my trust when it was unnecessary. I’ve been the one saying sorry, being tormented by guilt, feeling less than for not being there to protect and defend you. And the whole while, you were with Drake.”

“I was single when I was with Drake!” she hollers.

“Were you single after accepting my proposal? Were you single tonight when you were getting on your knees for him?” I challenge in a cold voice.

Riley looks around helplessly before offering more feeble excuses. “I was tipsy! He caught me in a moment of weakness! I SWEAR to you, it’ll never happen again!”

I am at the door, my hand on the doorknob, twisting it.

“Liam, you still love me! I never stopped loving you. We can work through this!” Her words are rushed, laced with desperation.

But they strike a nerve, sparking hope.

 My head drops and my eyes close; my feelings and her words tumble in my brain. I breathe out a deep sigh and turn to look at her.

“You want me to forgive you, yet you have never forgiven me.”

The door is slightly ajar and light from the hall spills into the doorway; chatter and merriment from the party can be heard. It muffles the last break of my heart. But I do not leave immediately. Instead, my hand falls from the knob, and I deliberately make my way back to her.

The merest of fractions separates us. My eyes take in her tousled hair, ruined makeup, her curves and swells making an hourglass of the slip.

I pull her in for an embrace, which she eagerly responds to. Her body fits perfectly against mine as it always has. Familiar scents assail my nostrils: strawberry shampoo, coconut rose lotion, jasmine and vanilla perfume.

I wonder if I’m making a mistake.

“Riley, I am in love with you but it’s apparent that even with all my wealth and resources, it isn’t enough for you. I’m not enough for you. We both deserve to be people who will find us ... sufficient, not supplemental.”

She is silent as tears fill her eyes again; I brush them away from her lashes and cheekbones before I place a gentle, lingering kiss on her forehead.

Her lack of reassurances and promises tells me I’m not.

“Thank you for giving me the Drake Walker treatment,” I say politely as my eyes burn from smoke and unshed tears.

And I let her go.

Her hand reaches for me, but she lets it fall as she watches me exit the room, closing the door quietly behind me.

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