#maxwell beaumont fanfiction

[tessa-liam]

Royal Adventures

All Hallow's Eve

Chapter 1

Book: Choices, The Royal Romance Series Finale

A Smoke & Mirrors Series Alternate Universe

Pairing:

King Liam Rys x F!MC Queen Riley Brooks-Rys

Series Inspiration: Royal Misadventures Smoke & Mirrors series 1-shot 

Series Premise: 12-year-old Crown Princess Eleanor Rys of Cordonia has officially started her Royal education. Tutors that had been personally selected by His Majesty King Liam Rys and Queen Riley Rys were set to begin her royal lessons, and her days were packed full. The young princess was a natural leader, and the King and Queen could not be prouder.   

Rating:  M, not Beta'd-please excuse all errors    

Category: On-going series, fluff 

Warnings: swearing, drinking 

Most Characters belong to Pixelberry Studios 

Chapter Summary: Ellie enlists help from her uncles, Leo and Maxwell to pull off a Halloween prank on her uncle Drake...with two unexpected situations that may spoil her fun...maybe. 

Words: 2.0 k

Royal Adventures 

All Hallow’s Eve, chapter 1 

Cordonian Royal Palace

"Ellie, you're so funny," William howled in laughter. 

"It'll be great," Eleanor insisted, her eyes lighting up with excitement. After describing her plans to her brothers, she was determined to make her idea happen. 

"Drake will never see it coming," Stefan agreed, giggling. 

"Okay, now I need Uncle Leo and Uncle Maxwell." Puling out her phone, Ellie tapped -

Ramsford Country Club - Golf course, 11th hole

"Nice swing, Your Majesty," Drake smirked slyly. 

Liam chuckled, "I can't believe it took us so long to do this." 

"Yeah, well, ruling a country takes a lot of time," Drake laughed. 

Handing his club to his caddy, Liam sighed, "So, what do you think of the club? 

"I have to admit, it's pretty awesome." 

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."  Liam took a swig of water.

"I could get used to this," Drake replied, sipping on a cold beer. 

"We should do this more often." 

"That would be great, Li" 

Liam's phone vibrated, and he pulled it out to answer a call from his daughter...

'Hi, Daddy, can you give Uncle Drake a message?' 

'What is it, Princess?' 

'Tell him - Gotcha.' 

Chuckling, Liam replied ...

'Okay, sweetheart. I will.'

He put his phone away, with a puzzled look, and decided not to question her. 

"Ellie ... wanted me to tell you ... 'Gotcha'." 

Noticing Liam's expression --"What is it?" Drake asked with hesitation. 

"I'm not entirely sure, Drake. Give her a call later. Riley is planning a surprise party tonight for the kids."

Drake looked puzzled. "What the hell does that mean?" 

Grabbing another club from the caddy, Liam shook his head. "Yeah, well ... she has a costume waiting for me to wear."

"Really? ...they are going to enjoy an American tradition...New York style."  Drake chortled, "Knowing Riley, she will pull out all the stops."

Snickering, Drake added, "I want to hear all about it."

Liam raised an eyebrow, "That's a hard NO! Now, let's finish up our round." 

"Sure, Your Majesty."  Drake continued to snicker.

Meanwhile, in the clearing behind Drake's cabin. 

"Okay, Ellie, you're the mastermind, what do you need us to do?" asked Leo. 

"We're gonna need a ton of fake spiders, some black cloth, and lots of fake cobwebs." 

"On it!" Maxwell cheered. I had all the supplies dropped off after he left for the golf course.

"And the fog machine!" Ellie looked pleased, as Maxwell uncovered a cage beside it.

"That's diabolical!" Leo sneered as he opened a box of plastic bats and spiders.

"...and ... la meillure partie."  (the best part)...

"Perfect," she giggled. 

"What else, Ellie?" 

"Hmmm. I know, we can add sound effects for the bats, and the fan will swirl and make the spiders come alive." 

"How'd you get these ideas anyway, Ell?"

"From the best horror movie ever made," she replied proudly. 

"Which one is that?" asked Leo. 

"Nightwing." 

"That's an old movie, isn't it?" 

"Yes, it is," she replied, "but it's the best." 

"I'm surprised the nanny let you watch that," said Maxwell. 

"She didn't. Mom did, though." 

"Oh, man, your mother's gonna kill me," Leo groaned. 

"Don't worry, Uncle Leo, this will be so worth it," Ellie giggled. 

"I'm still not sure about this, kid. You really want to pull this prank on Uncle Drake?" 

"Trust me, Uncle Max, I promise I won't tell anyone," She insisted. 

"If you say so, kid." 

"All right, Ellie, we're ready," Leo called out. 

"Awesome, let's get started."

They placed the fake spiders all around the cabin and draped the black cloth over the furniture. 

"What's next?" 

"We need to put the real bats in the rafters." 

"The real bats? How did you find those?" Maxwell gasped. "That is so cool!" 

"I ...may have asked one of the menagerie guards in Valtoria." she replied proudly. 

"Damn, Ellie," Leo cackled. "I am so proud of you!" 

"Thanks, Uncle Leo. Now, let's get started." 

After their plan was set in motion, they hid behind the bushes and waited outside of Drake's log cabin. 

As the fog machine began to create a thick haze around the cabin, the lights inside flickered on and off, and the sounds of bats echoed throughout all the rooms inside. 

"Holy crap," exclaimed Leo. 

"It looks like the set of a horror movie." 

"It's perfect," Ellie beamed. 

"Wait until he comes back." 

"What do we do then?" asked Leo. 

"Hide, of course. I'll tell you when to jump out." 

"Sounds good to me." 

***

Drake was exhausted after his round of golf with Liam. He couldn't wait to relax by the fire with a cold beer and some good music. Not paying particular attention to the fog outside.

However, when he walked into the cabin, his entire body went rigid. 

He was met by a sea of cobwebs and fake, moving spiders. 

The lights flickered, and the sound of bats echoed through the air. 

"What the fuck?!" 

Trying the light switch, Drake felt something flutter on his head. 

"This is not fucking funny!" 

He searched the cabin but found no one. 

"Come out, now!" 

Suddenly, the front door slammed shut, and Drake was trapped inside in the dark. 

"This isn't funny anymore!" 

"Whoever did this is going to be grounded until their kids have kids!" 

"I'm serious, now!" 

Drake's blood was boiling, and he was fuming. 

"I don't have time for this bullshit!" 

Suddenly, the music began to blare, and the fog machine created a thick haze. 

The sound of bats echoed throughout the area, and the lights flickered on and off. 

Drake was furious, and he stomped over to the stereo, slamming his fist on the button. 

The music stopped, and the cabin fell silent. 

But the real bats kept flying, and the sounds of bat chirps were all around him. He grabbed a broom and began to knock them down. 

"Fucking bats!" he screamed. 

"Who the hell thought this was a good idea?" 

"It's not fucking funny, Ellie! If you're watching this, it's not fucking funny! Your dad is going to hear about this!" 

Drake was so angry that he didn't notice the front door open, and he was oblivious to the footsteps approaching. 

"Drake?" Liam called out. 

"Fuck!"  Drake jumped at the sound of Liam's voice, and his heart nearly stopped. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" 

"I came to check on you. I heard your yells when I dropped off your clubs on the porch. You forgot them in the SUV." 

"I'm fine," he grumbled. 

"Why is it so dark in here?" 

"It was like this when I came in." 

"I see. So, you're hiding from the spiders." 

"Fuck no! I'm not afraid of fucking spiders!" 

"Okay, then let's turn on the lights and get rid of these." 

"Fine."  Drake exhaled loudly.

Liam flipped the switch, and the cabin was bathed in light. 

"Better?" 

"Yes, much better." 

"Good. Now, why don't we have a seat and relax." 

"Fine." 

They sat on the couch, and Drake poured himself a drink. 

"So, do you have any idea who could've done this?" 

"Not entirely sure," Drake sighed, taking a sip of his whiskey. 

"Well, it was a clever prank." 

"A clever prank? It's not funny, Li." 

"Of course not. But, come on, Drake. You have to admit, it was creative." 

"It was not fucking funny. Someone needs to ground her." 

"Who? 

"Eleanor." 

"My Ellie? She did this?" 

"That's it?" 

"I think she had some help from Leo and Maxwell. She sent that message 'gotcha' to me, and I'm sure they helped her pull this off." 

"Yeah, that's it. And I know for a fact that this was her." 

"How?" 

"Because she's the only one who can get away with shit like this."

"Drake, come on, she's just a little girl." 

"She's twelve, Liam, and she's too smart for her own good. She is just like her mother." 

"Hey, I resent that." 

"It's the truth. Your wife is always coming up with some scheme or another, and now, Eleanor is doing the same thing." 

"Look, Drake, I understand you're upset, but I'm sure she didn't mean any harm." 

"You're not the one that was almost scared to death by bats."

"It could've been worse." 

"Yeah, well, it wasn't. It was just a stupid prank." 

"Look, Drake, I'll talk to her. But, come on, it's Halloween, and she's only twelve. Cut her some slack." 

Drake breathed out loudly, hanging his head.

"I'll make sure she apologizes to you, too."

"Well, I can't argue with that." 

"That's all I ask... now, I need a fucking drink." 

As the two friends relaxed by the fire, Drake decided to let his guard down and enjoy the moment. 

He couldn't believe Eleanor was able to pull off a prank like that. She had to have had help. He knew she had a mischievous side, but he never expected her to be so bold. 

"Well, I'm glad you find this amusing," Drake grumbled looking at Liam.

Liam, on the other hand, was amused by the whole situation. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself at the thought of his daughter scaring Drake. 

"Drake, come on, the princess just wanted to have a little fun. And, let's face it, you can be a bit of a grouch sometimes." 

"Gee, thanks." 

"It's the truth. And you know it." 

"Fine, I may have been a bit grumpy. But that doesn't excuse the fact that she scared the shit out of me." 

"Again, she's only twelve, and you were in no danger. I'll talk to her." 

"Good, thank you." 

As the two friends relaxed by the fire, Drake couldn't help but wonder what else the princess would get up to in the future.

"Here's to Eleanor Rys and her sense of humor," Liam said proudly, raising his glass. 

"May she always find joy in life, even if it's at the expense of others." 

"And here's to you, Liam, for putting up with me," Drake chuckled. 

"Cheers." 

They clinked their glasses together and drank deeply, enjoying each other's company. 

They had no idea that their princess had already hatched a new scheme in her head, and she was determined to get the upper hand on her uncle Leo. 

It was going to be a long Halloween season. 

As Drake and Liam enjoyed their drinks, the princess and her uncles were having a celebration of their own outside the cabin. 

"Did you see his face?" Leo chuckled. 

"That was epic," Maxwell added. 

"You were brilliant, Ellie," said Leo. 

"Thanks, Uncle Leo," Ellie giggled and hugged her uncles.

"Happy Halloween." 

@choicesficwriterscreations

@choicescommunityevents

🍁tags in the comments

[angelasscribbles]

Dark Elf Chapter 8: Unexpected Discoveries

Series: Dark Elf

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Word Count: 1,213

Rating: NSFW

Warnings for this series: Lemons! 18+ only

A/N: Hahaha, this was completely unplanned and unexpected smut. The last two chapters were smut and I had not planned any more for several chapters but...well.... these characters just took the reins as they usually do lol. Enjoy!

My other stuff: Master List.

Liam crashed through the door with wild eyed panic, “Riley! Drake! What have you done?”

He tried to make sense of the sight that greeted him. Riley and Drake sat on the floor in the middle of her room. She was completely naked. A discarded blade lay next to them, coated with blood. His eyes tracked over her perfect, unmarred flesh. There was no wound. Drake was clothed but seemed unharmed.

That didn’t change the fact that there was blood dripped on the floor between them and clinging to the dagger. The dress he had left for her mere hours ago lay in two separate halves on the other side of the room. But he didn’t need any of that to tell him something had happened. Something that had shifted the balance of power in the palace.

He had felt it.

It was what had sent him flying out of a council meeting and through the palace hallways, knocking servants aside as he ran.

As the ringing in his ears subsided, he realized anyone walking by in the hall could see in. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, trying to calm his breathing. “Could one of you please tell me what’s happening? What did I just feel?”

Riely scrambled to her feet and drew closer to him, eyes glittering with curiosity, “What did you feel halfling?”

“I…don’t know…it was like something was ripped away from me…” his eyes went to Drake, “and then I felt a new bond, a stronger bond snap into place but it wasn’t with me!” His eyes found Riley’s, wide with confusion and anger, “Why am I feeling things that happen to you and what the hell did you do to my spell breaker?”

“Ohhh, this is an unexpected development!” Riley cocked her head to the side, curiously. “You gave your blood willingly, and that gave me a tiny bit of your power, but a psychic bond that lasts beyond the act itself? That’s never happened before.”

Drake stumbled to his feet, holding his pants up with one hand since the fastenings had been ripped out. He stood behind Riley, facing Liam as he struggled with his own mixed emotions. “She said we could all stay together this way!”

Liam lifted his eyes to Drake’s face, then his gaze ran down to take in the torn clothing, and the other man’s position, at Riley’s side, not his. He froze as he scented the air.

They smelled of sex and blood.

Sex, blood, and something else. Something stronger. It’s why he hadn’t picked up on the sex and blood scent sooner. The smell of magic permeated the air.

Elven magic.

Shock and denial washed over him. “No!” She had used his own magic to steal Drake’s services right out from under him.

“I’m sorry, my darkling prince,” she purred as her hand reached out and ran down his chest, “but you should have bound him while you had the chance. All those wasted years.” She clucked her tongue sympathetically with a slow shake of her head.

“But I never thought—"

“That’s your problem,” she moved her still-naked body closer to him, her hand moving from his chest to snake through his hair, “Living with humans has made you soft. You shouldn’t have trusted him, and you shouldn’t have trusted me.”

“No,” Liam shook his head, “We’re friends, I didn’t need to force him—"

“You act like the bond is a thing that traps him. The bond between a spell breaker and their master keeps you both safe!”

“In what way?” Liam asked incredulously.

She scooted closer still so that their bodies were pressed firmly against each other. Her head tipped back to stare up into his eyes. “It would have prevented me from taking him, for starters.”

“You tricked me!” He tried to hold on to his indignation, but it was a losing battle. The more she touched him, the more the anger and sense of loss were pushed aside and replaced with a burning hunger so strong it made him weak.

“Stop,” he whispered as he made a feeble attempt to push her away.

“Why?” she challenged as her fingers pulled at the buttons of his Oxford shirt.

His eyes flicked back to Drake. “We can’t just—”

“We can.” She whispered as his shirt fell to the ground.

Drake shifted position, his eyes dropping quickly to the floor, but he betrayed no emotion about the scene unfolding before him.

Riley was naked and her skin flushed as she pulled Liam’s shirt deftly from his body. She raked her nails down his chest, leaving eight angry welts smeared with blood. “Look at me, not him.”

Liam’s onyx eyes went somehow even darker as he turned his gaze back to her. A cloud of lust filled magic misted into being in the air surrounding them. He sucked in a hiss of pleasure as his hand shot out and encircled her wrist, yanking her to him. All his reticence gone, he used his other hand to grab her by the hair and jerk her head back.

Riley laughed with delight as Liam attacked her with wild abandon. His mouth claimed every inch of her body, kissing, licking, sucking, and biting as his hands ran over her curves proprietarily. His voice was hoarse as he told her, “You’re mine, Riley! I’m responsible for bringing you here! I’m the one that placed the cuff on you! I tamed you, demon!”

“Am I tamed then, my prince?” She taunted as she made short work of his pants.

Her words only inflamed his passions higher. In one fluid motion, he swept her off her feet and tossed her onto the bed. Grasping a leg, he dragged her to the edge of the mattress with a growl. “Open your legs!”

She complied.

His fingers dug into her thighs hard, leaving angry black and blue blotches blooming across her pale flesh as he drove himself into her.

“Yes!” Her legs wrapped around him as her nails clawed fresh, bloody streaks across his shoulders and down his back. “Faster! Harder! Fuck me like you mean it!”

Her fangs slid out, and she buried her face in the side of his neck. A sharp thrill of pleasure and pain coursed through him as she drank deeply.

They came at the same time. Liam rammed himself into her and collapsed forward, his naked body pressed against hers, sweat and magic mingling together.

He rolled off her, panting as he stared up at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. A low moan caught his attention and his eyes shot to Drake, whom he had all but forgotten. His former spell breaker had stood by and watched the entire thing.

Drake’s pants were tangled around his feet as his hand pumped his cock.

Their eyes locked.

Steams of hot, sticky liquid poured out of him and coated his fist as his body jerked forward, lips parted, breath ragged.

But it wasn’t Riley’s name that fell from his lips at the moment of release.

It was Liam’s.

Riley’s eyes tracked from the blissful, fucked out expression on Drake’s face to the stunned look of shock on Liam’s.

Then she threw her head back and laughed.

[kristinamae093]

A Game of Love

Chapter Two — Sisters

Series Summary — A fated encounter turns into a series of secret rendezvous, despite knowing their tyrsts are forbidden. Walls stay intact and hearts remain hard, but then emotions get raw, the tangled web of royal expectations comes into play, and everything goes astray. They must confront their feelings and learn to trust again, or walk away from the second chance at everything they’d ever wanted that neither saw coming.

Pairing — Liam x F!OC (main)

A/N 1 — Set after the end of book 2 (with some minor changes). Please excuse any errors.

A/N 2 — This chapter is longer but there's a lot of backstory here. 😬 Sorry. And there's no spice but the next chapter makes up for it. Sorry again.

Most characters belong to Pixelberry.

Tags — @choicesficwriterscreations

Nicole Cordelia Brooks entered the world on August 23 to John and Crystal Brooks. Weighing only four pounds three ounces, she was the premature bundle of joy that brought their family to completion. Her parents and older siblings welcomed her with open arms; Jared was the oldest at twelve, followed closely behind by Riley at eight. John and Crystal longed for their last baby and after years of conception problems and miscarriages, the heavens finally granted their wish. 

Nicole was always a happy child. She ranked in the highest percentiles as a toddler and spoke full sentences well before other children her age. She was ahead of her peers in school and never acted out. Even in her earliest days, she was a social butterfly, always respectful, and her presence brightened any room with her lively spirit. 

Nicole held strong a relationship with both of her siblings, but she and Riley had an unbreakable bond. They were best friends and did everything together, despite Riley being significantly older. She and Jared were close, but nothing compared to the sisterhood she and Riley formed. Riley spent most of her teenage years playing with dolls and dressing up with Nicole; she didn’t feel the need to go out and party but was perfectly content with watching her baby sister grow up. When their mother announced her pregnancy, she prayed her little eight-year-old heart out for it to be a girl, and somebody, somewhere, listened. 

However, everything drastically changed for their family in the blink of an eye. 

Life treated Nicole and her siblings well — until it didn’t. A drunk driver wrongfully took their parents from the world on an early, rainy August morning — to be exact, on August 23rd. They were returning home from a class reunion and the driver of the opposing vehicle crossed the median. The collision was head-on, causing Crystal and John to be pronounced dead on the scene from the force of impact; the other driver walked away with only minor cuts and scrapes. 

Nicole was only ten. She woke up that morning and rushed downstairs, but didn’t find her parents with her usual birthday breakfast; waffles with strawberries and powdered sugar on top, scrambled eggs, sausage links, and orange juice with no pulp — just how she liked it. 

Instead, she found Riley at the table, but no mom and dad. 

“Riley!” Nicole exclaimed, running to jump into her sister’s lap. “You came for my birthday!” 

Riley stared into her sister’s bright olive eyes, willing her overwhelming emotions to stay at bay. “Happy birthday, Nikki…” she trailed off, dreading the impending conversion. 

Nicole might’ve been young, but she sensed her sister’s sadness. “Sissy… What’s wrong?” She touched Riley’s cheek with her tiny palms and noticed the fresh tears that slipped out. “Should I get mommy? She always makes me feel better when I’m sad.” 

The dagger sheathing itself into Riley’s chest suddenly twisted. “Nikki… We need to talk, okay? Sit down with me, and—” She started, but the sound of the patio door closing drew their attention there. 

Jared appeared, and Nicole lunged at him with a delighted gasp. Her excitement overpowered anything else, making her unaware of his tear-stained face. “Jerry!” 

Jared laughed and scooped Nicole into his arms. “Hey, squirt.” 

“Where’s M–Mary?”

Jared snorted at her pronunciation of his wife’s name. “It’s Mau-ri, and she’s at home with the baby.” Nicole opened her mouth, a wail right there on the tip of her tongue, but he halted it promptly. “They wanted to come, but we have some important things to take care of today.” He exchanged a somber glance with Riley, the tension of the unaddressed weight hanging heavily between them. “Next time I’ll bring him to play — promise.”

Nicole eagerly nodded, then squeezed her arms as tightly as she could around his neck before pulling away. “Guess what today is?!” 

Jared feigned confusion. “Hmmm… Is it — Christmas?” 

“No!” 

He tapped his finger against his chin, deep in thought. “Let me think…” He only got away with it for two seconds before Nicole tickled his armpits. “Wait! I know what it is! I surrender — I surrender!” 

Jared made a show of letting Nicole take him to the floor, the sound of her infectious giggles filling the air. He rolled around and hollered, but when he stopped, he pulled his smallest sister into his lap and hugged her close. “Happy birthday, Nic.” 

“Thank you!” She squealed. 

“Double digits, eh?” Jared smirked. 

“She’s getting old, Jer,” Riley interjected. 

“Nuh-uh!” Nicole stuck out her tongue and scrunched her face. 

“Whatever you say…” 

Nicole bolted up from Jared’s lap and out of the room before anyone could stop her. “Mommy! Daddy!” She called. The pace of her small footsteps echoed through the house until she reappeared and came to a halt, helpless confusion painted on her innocent features. 

“Where are they?” She gasped, her face morphing into the definition of excitement. “Did they leave to get cake?! I hope it’s chocolate! And ice cream! We need ice cream, too!” She shrieked. “Today is going to be the best birthday ever!”

Jared and Riley exchanged another somber look, each dreading what lay ahead. They’d spoken of how to tell Nicole, but now that they were in the moment, neither could determine how to deliver this detrimental news. Given how excited she was to celebrate her birthday, they didn’t want to shatter her world, but they couldn’t hide this from her. It would affect her the most, so she needed to know how her life was about to change. 

Finally, it was Riley who broke the tense silence. She opened her arms to Nicole with misty eyes and when she ran to her, Riley cradled her close. “We need to tell you something, Nikki…” She closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddered breath, wishing she would wake from this nightmare. “There’s been an accident…”

Nicole understood what happened in vague terms, but it took years for her to comprehend the entirety of the situation. All she knew was Mommy and Daddy were not coming home, and she would live with her big sister from here on out. 

Riley was great to Nicole. She worked multiple jobs to make ends meet and often ignored her dreams to provide a sustainable life. Fresh out of high school, she accepted the great responsibility that was Nicole without hesitation and never complained, nor grumbled about it. Even though losing their parents devastated her, she knew she had to push forward for Nicole’s sake. Jared assisted with whatever she needed, but he had a family of his own to care for and was knuckle-deep in law school. Nicole would go for visits, but her home base was always with Riley. 

She and Jared tried to make Nicole’s birthday a day of celebration, but their attempts were futile. The damage was done, specifically within Nicole, who saw no reason to smile or laugh on that day. Riley tried to recreate her special breakfast, but it wasn’t Mom’s waffles, and Dad wasn’t there to sing; the reminder would always be there of the missing pieces taken too soon. All three children felt the loss heavily, but with time, Nicole’s sorrow only grew larger and stronger. 

Riley was incredibly protective of Nicole even before their parents passed, but her paranoia increased tenfold after their deaths. She had strict rules and stuck to them, even more than their parents. Riley expected her to keep her grades up and set a curfew that she adhered to. She had chores and was held responsible for ensuring their completion, and was punished when they weren’t. Nicole couldn’t go to a friend’s house unless Riley met them first and even then, she still went with her; she wanted to ensure her sister arrived and returned in one piece. 

As Nicole got older, she tested Riley’s authority. She snuck out, skipped school a handful of times, and was even picked up by the police for vandalizing an abandoned warehouse. Riley was called to the principal’s office a few times because Nicole copped an attitude with her teachers and when they asked her to stop, she took that as an invitation to make an ass out of herself. Thankfully, nothing was detrimental enough to sour her college opportunities, but Nicole undoubtedly taught Riley the definition of patience during those rebellious years. 

They had multiple screaming matches over Riley’s protectiveness. Nicole ran away a handful of times but was never gone for more than a few hours. Riley never got angry enough to throw her out, despite her sister’s defiance; she realized it was a cry for help without words. She heard her out and tried to relax, but found it difficult to let her grow up outside her safe grasp.

When she became a legal adult, Nicole tried to stay with Riley but found even then — she was still overbearing. She loved her sister more than anything but needed to breathe and live a little. Nicole enrolled in college and moved into the dorms on campus, much to Riley’s displeasure, but she bit her tongue and showed nothing but support. 

Nicole, on the other hand, couldn’t have been happier. College was the time of her life. The parties were unreal, and she finally got to let loose without a parental figure around. She was free to do as she pleased without a voice of reason to nag her, speak for her, or tell her what was best. Her studies always came first and her grades never suffered, but she strolled into class drunk from the night before more than she showed up sober. 

During her college days, she met plenty of guys, but in her senior year, a man named Colton joined her business finance class. He was tall, dark, incredibly handsome, and showed interest in Nicole immediately. They started dating and things grew serious rather quickly. Their chemistry was off the charts and Nicole fell head first. He was her first proper relationship and the first where she didn’t have Riley breathing down her neck, and she threw herself into him. 

They spent every spare moment together, including holiday breaks. She met his family and even brought him along with her to Riley’s, and she sang only praises. He was respectful, kind, and courteous to her sister; she undoubtedly approved of their relationship and had no complaints, even though Nicole was sure she would find something wrong with him, but to her surprise, her sister welcomed him with open arms. She hoped Colton could provide Nicole with the stability she needed, and perhaps finally tie her down. 

They graduated together, Nicole at the top of the class. She used her degree to secure a job with one of the leading financial institutions in the country, and Colton joined a small architectural business, crafting homes and other structures statewide. Things were going great — the next year they spent together, strengthening themselves and their relationship alike. Nicole believed their future was secure, but the rug of happiness she had cozied up on was yanked out from underneath her without warning.

Nicole and Colton moved in together after graduation in an apartment overlooking the busy New York streets. It was a regular Friday — except — she got off work early and stopped by their favorite cafe to grab dinner on her way home as a surprise. But when she walked inside the door to their apartment, she realized she hadn’t beaten him home as she’d hoped. She registered voices not far away and the sound drew her closer, but an anvil dropped into the pit of her stomach when she heard two people. 

Colton spoke to someone she instantly realized was a woman. 

“I love you, baby.” Colton crooned. 

“I want to believe you, but you still have that — attachment.”

Colton sighed. “I know, but I promise I’m dumping her — tonight.” 

“And then?”

“It’s just us. Once her shit is gone, that closet you’ve been eyeballing is all yours. And we’ll get that second room set up ASAP.” 

The woman laughed, and Nicole heard what she assumed was their lips smacking together. As she slowly crossed the threshold, she realized she was correct. Her heart shattered right there on the spot, but fury as she’d never felt ignited and coursed through her body. 

Nicole cleared her throat, drawing their attention to the doorway. The woman straddled Colton’s lap stark naked, right there on the couch they selected for their home together. The harlot’s eyes widened, and she sprung away from him while covering herself, but all she did was show Nicole how incredibly foolish she was, as she zeroed in on the bump protruding from the woman’s abdomen. 

She was fucking pregnant. 

Colton stood with one hand raised in surrender, the other covering his exposed genitals. “Nic, I — I can explain.” 

Nicole chortled, stalking toward him with a scowl. “Is it yours?” 

Colton swallowed thickly, the gulp echoing in the silence. “Yes…”

What little remnants of her resolve burst into flames and she blinked back tears of equal parts fury and devastation. Even though he essentially just reached into her body, yanked her heart out, and tore it to shreds, she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.  

“How long?” 

“What?”

“HOW LONG have you been fucking this WHORE?!” 

Colton winced at her volume. “I know you’re upset, but—” 

Nicole suddenly grabbed a vase perched on the mantle and launched it toward the woman, narrowly missing her. “HOW FUCKING LONG, COLTON?!” 

“Since last year…” He quietly answered. 

“Last year?” Nicole mimicked in disbelief. “So you’re what — getting your dick wet while planning a future with me?! Or is it the other way around? Am I the other woman in this situation?!” 

“No, that’s not it.” He reasoned. “I promise I can explain—” 

“FUCK. YOU!”

And that was all Nicole remembered. She woke up later in a jail cell to see Jared and Riley, both waiting with disappointed faces. Jared was a lawyer — a damn good one — and got her off the charges Colton tried to press after she destroyed everything. She never went back for her belongings but saw pictures of the damages. She left nothing in one piece — she even launched his grandmother’s urn out the window. Her rage and hurt took over and caused her to black out — she had no recollection of it happening. 

Nicole went back to Riley’s after that, begrudgingly. She didn’t particularly want to but decided perhaps her sister’s company would be better than wallowing alone in her pity. Her presence helped, but in the stillness of her solitude, her self-loathing took over. 

Alcohol became her friend, her closest confidant. She spiraled into a deep pit of depression because she felt completely blindsided. She and Colton were great together, and she couldn’t understand why she wasn’t enough or where it went wrong. Nicole treated him well and always tried to be the best girlfriend she could be. Their apartment was spotless; she cooked him dinner every night, let him have his time with his friends, sucked him off regularly and their sex life wasn’t lacking whatsoever — she did everything right, and yet, she was left broken in the end. 

She drowned her sorrows in the brown bottle, some days from sun up to sun down. Riley tried to intervene, but Nicole refused to talk about it. Multiple fights broke out from her persistent pushing until Riley finally got the message and stopped. She realized although her sister was hurting, she couldn’t force her to express her pain. It was hard to witness, but she couldn’t control her anymore, especially when, by all technicalities, Nicole was following her new stipulations. 

The rules were simple — keep the bullshit outside. Nicole couldn’t bring people over without proper notice, and it had to be someone Riley knew beforehand. She had the freedom to drink, but Riley forbade her from getting belligerent, and she had to have a job to contribute towards food and bills. They had a strict one a.m. lock time; if Nicole wasn’t home, she found somewhere else to stay for the night. Riley often worked doubles at the bar and was not a happy camper when her sleep got disrupted. 

Nicole adhered to every request and never tested her authority. 

Nicole would bounce around from bar to bar but avoided the one Riley worked at. Most of her friends were mutual with Colton because she threw herself into him and lost all contact with her friends, which meant most of her ventures were lone ones. If Daniel wasn’t working he went with her, but Nicole always had a guard up around him. He was incredibly close to Riley and worked alongside her; she considered him her friend, but her trust in his discretion was minimal and she never fully let him in.  

She mostly drank during her outings but picked up a fun game she started playing with herself. Men flocked to her and her assets — they wanted her. On rare occasions, she went home with them, but her enjoyment came from the cat-and-mouse game — the chase. She’d sashay around in her tight, low-cut dresses all night with a line of suitors behind, begging and pleading to take her home. They paid for her drinks and in return, she gave them an hour or two of her undivided attention. Nicole wouldn’t even let them kiss her; she’d let them get handsy for a bit during dances — sometimes under the table — but only a select few were gifted a night with her. 

It was nothing but a tease — watching the spirit leave their eyes when she let them down filled a gaping hole inside her chest, even if only for the moment. 

It was not always a safe game to play — sometimes Nicole ended up in dangerous situations because of her antics. Rowdy, drunken men twice her size pushed her luck a few times, but thankfully, bystanders always intervened before anything serious could happen.

With time, she slowed down a bit, but never fully stopped. Riley knew these things happened at night but during the day, she was Nikki again; smiling, laughing, and joking like she used to. But once the sun sat, the gloves came off and Nicole left to play. 

When Riley’s life changed, Nicole was undoubtedly happy for her. The day Maxwell extended his offer, Riley burst through the door, more excited than Nicole had ever seen her, but her elation faded as she realized what she would leave behind. 

“Nikki… I don’t have to go…” Riley softly spoke.  

Despite her words, Nicole knew how eager she was. “What? Why wouldn’t you?!”

“I don’t wanna leave you here all alone…”

“Riley — I’m not alone. Jared is around and Daniel lives right down the hall.” 

“You could come with me…” Riley hopefully suggested. 

Nicole gave her a sad smile. “I love you, but — no. This isn’t a journey meant for me and I have a career here — I’m up for a promotion soon and I’ve worked too hard to give that up.”

“I — I know…” Riley dejectedly sighed. “But—”

“No,” Nicole stopped her. “You’ve spent all this time worrying about me and ensuring I had everything I needed. You deserve this, Riley. I want you to be happy — if this is what you want to do, then do it.” She picked up her cell phone and held it up. “Plus, these things exist now.”

Riley tearfully chuckled. She tried to contain her growing excitement, but it was to no avail. “Are you sure? I’ll stay. This is probably crazy, anyway… To run off with some guy I don’t even know…”

Nicole laughed. “You gotta live a little at some point, Riley. Otherwise, your tombstone is going to say, ‘Here lies Riley, the woman whose crotch sewed itself back up’.”

“Hey!” Riley swatted at her sister but soon fiddled with the zipper of her hoodie. “... You really think I should go?”

“Yes! And I swear — if I go over twelve hours without hearing from you, I will be on the next flight to Cornucopia with the fucking FBI and CIA and whoever else I can wrangle.”

Riley howled with laughter. “It’s Cordonia.”

“Tomato, tomato.” Nicole snickered. “Enough logistics! Let's get you packed!” 

During the social season, they spoke all the time on the phone; daily, unless their schedules conflicted. However, Nicole knew from the conversing topics early on, that her sister seemed to have her eyes set on a different prize, but Riley wouldn’t admit it. The scandal reached the States and circulated for a bit, but Nicole’s preoccupation with her own games prevented her from paying much attention. She saw a few articles regarding the matter, but it drifted to the back of her mind. Riley cried to her on the phone for days on end, practically begging to come home, but Nicole convinced her to stay on more than one occasion. 

The engagement tour was when Nicole really noticed Riley’s attention shift. She mentioned the king rarely; instead, her focus was on a woman named Hana. How beautiful and smart she was, her vibrant smile, even down to the way her dress flowed in her wake when she walked. Her sister was falling in love, and it elated Nicole that Riley was finding her slice of happiness. She didn’t admit her feelings until Nicole bluntly asked about it; they talked it out, and she helped Riley slowly embrace her true identity. 

The court came to New York and as much as it killed them, Nicole was out of town for that visit. She was in Fort Lauderdale at a mandatory seminar and, because of the court’s tight schedule, they did not get to see each other. Riley called her the night the king proposed and Nicole talked her through her guilt over breaking his heart. Nicole reminded her that although she initially went for him, she was very much single this entire time; she encouraged her to do what felt right. 

Riley became a duchess and Nicole got promoted within her company. Their schedules were busier than ever and they rarely had the chance to connect in person. Riley made a few more trips home, where Nicole got to see her and meet Hana, but she had yet to make the trip to Cordonia to witness her sister in her new element. 

That changed when Riley called to tell her she was engaged. The sisters screeched into the phone together for a long while, Hana even joining in as well. Nicole patiently counted down the days, took leave, and set out on her international adventure. Jared would come right before the wedding, but Nicole wanted to be there for all the events that would happen beforehand. 

Riley described the perfect playground, only with a whole new set of players. 

After the excitement faded, Riley was quick to set some ground rules. Nicole had to behave while she was there, to not cause some kind of scandal. The joining of two noble women was unprecedented in itself, and Riley didn’t want anything going wrong; Nicole had to watch her step. Riley knew she could achieve the task, but it was up to Nicole to decide she wanted to. 

Nicole didn’t intend on immediately messing up, but then a tall, intoxicating man walked up and said all the right words. Her body lit like a Christmas tree, an immediate reaction to his advances. The game was still afoot, but this was one occurrence where she gave in to temptation. 

How was she supposed to know the king, her sister’s close, personal friend, hit the streets? When he told her he was the monarch, she almost died laughing, but at that point, he could’ve been Barney — either way, the results would’ve been the same. It wasn’t until she Googled his name that she recalled his face in those articles, and Riley mentioning his name.  

She knew — she fucked up. 

Riley still spoke of Liam, but mostly just a few words here and there. She didn’t mention the king was a certified freak, or that he dressed in the opposite of his social position. Nicole didn’t know how Riley would react if she found out, but she wasn’t willing to take that chance. She knew how her big sister used to be, but hoped perhaps her new home and love would calm her a bit. 

Deep down, she realized that would never happen. 

It was inevitable that she would come face-to-face with Liam at some point, and Nicole wasn’t sure what would happen at that moment, either. Would he play it off as if nothing happened? Pretend he’d never seen her? She didn’t know him, so she couldn’t determine how he would handle the situation. 

Regardless, it would be their secret — Riley could never know. 

That morning, Nicole was to set off for Valtoria. Riley and Hana were called to a last-minute meeting and were out of the country for a few days. They offered Nicole the duchy until they returned, but she turned them down, as she wanted to explore the country her sister hyped up independently. She got herself a hotel in the capital for the time they would be gone, but now wished she would’ve just gone straight to Valtoria instead. 

None of this would’ve happened, and she wouldn’t be nearly bursting with anxiety; not knowing when she would have to face her extraordinarily talented lover and the secret that would then dangle over both of their heads. 

Riley, Hana and their small group of peers anxiously awaited the honored guest’s arrival. As soon as they decided to get married, Riley knew there was no way she would even entertain the idea without her sister. She looked forward to the next couple of weeks and secretly hoped Nicole would fall in love with the country and want to stay. 

Riley enjoyed her life in Cordonia but longed to have Nicole near. Perhaps it was her protective nature, but she felt incomplete without her and often lay awake at night worrying about her. Of course, she missed Jared as well, but she and Nicole had a much stronger bond. She wanted nothing more than to have her sister around all the time, to bring her life in Cordonia to completion. 

However, that also brought great anxiety. Nicole was a sweet, genuine person, but Riley knew she made some poor decisions after Colton decimated her heart. It wasn’t so much her image she stressed about — although it was a contributing factor — but she worried about all these men being around her baby sister. She could take care of herself, but the nobility was a different ballpark; she didn’t want Nicole to get into a bad situation that could get plastered for the world to see, just as she had.  

Riley gave warnings to the men in her immediate circle — Nikki was off limits. It wasn’t Maxwell she was worried about, nor Drake, but Liam specifically. He bedded anything with a pulse; Nicole would not appear on that lengthy list. She wouldn’t allow him to use her in that way, monarch or not. Drake or Maxwell could receive the chance at some point, but Liam would not. She loved him like a brother, but Nicole was blood; she would not be another notch on his bedpost. 

Riley felt guilty about what happened between her and Liam for a long time, and sometimes still does. Eventually, she realized she really hadn’t led him on, but that only eased her aching conscience so much. They were never intimate, only kissed one or two times toward the beginning of the social season, and Riley never reciprocated when he said I love you; she would tell him she wasn’t ready for that. 

Yet, he still proposed. 

She was stunned and genuinely didn’t understand why he asked. Yes, he needed a wife to make his queen, but Riley made it clear to him early on — that wasn’t what she was interested in. The crown meant nothing, and she wasn’t willing to compromise her happiness for a job she didn’t want. She tried — time and time again — to make herself love him but at the end of the day, he wasn’t her. 

She and Hana hid their relationship for quite a while; not from everyone, just Liam. In the aftermath of his heartbreak, they didn’t want to throw salt into the still-open wound. When they announced their engagement, Liam told them he supported their union and would happily be the one to marry them, but they knew he still held some kind of resentment. Everyone got along and was good friends, but sometimes the tension thickened — a constant reminder that the past would always be there. 

“Is she here yet?!” Maxwell exclaimed, dragging Riley out of her daze. 

Riley chuckled. “Not yet.” Maxwell bounced in place, thrumming from his enormous amount of energy. “Calm down, Max. I think you’re more excited than I am.” 

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?! It’s another freakin’ blossom!” 

Drake sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Why did you want him here for this?” He addressed Riley. 

“Because I want to give her a warm welcome with all of my favorite people.” 

Drake snickered. “Guess that explains why Liam isn’t here.” 

“That’s not it. I invited him, but he had a meeting…” Drake stared at Riley with a knowing expression for only a moment before she pleaded, “It’s not!” 

Drake snickered. “Calm down, Brooks. I get it…” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah.” Drake nodded. “Trust me, if Savannah wasn’t with good ol’ Bertie, I would’da put a chastity belt on her long ago — no fucking way would I let him anywhere near her.” 

Riley laughed. “I’m glad someone understands, but that doesn’t mean you have permission, either — just so we’re clear.” 

Drake raised his hands in surrender. “It’s not me you gotta worry about… Or twinkle toes over there.” 

“Hey!” Maxwell yelled. 

“I’m just sayin’. She’s safe around us, but King Condom is a different story.” 

Riley sighed. Her face fell and guilt took over as she thought about Liam’s changes. She knew she was the one who did that and regardless of what everyone tried to reassure her with, she still felt responsible. 

Hana approached and lightly stroked her shoulders. “Don’t do that… We’ve been down this road a million times… You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yeah, Brooks… You didn’t do that.” Drake agreed. 

“He’s just so — different now… Like, the Liam who wanted me to love him left when he found out I didn’t love him…” Riley trailed off, staring down at her shoes. 

“No, he chose to react how he did. That’s a grown-ass man who made his own decisions.” 

“I know… I just—” 

Maxwell cut Riley off. “My beautiful, beautiful blossom…” He grasped her shoulders as Hana’s hands fell away. “You’re such a genuine person, but I promise you, whatever is going on with Liam is not your fault. You have to stop blaming yourself!” 

Riley let out a heavy breath. “I’m just hoping I can keep him and Nikki apart while she’s here. That would be toxic in every way… Two players trying to play each other.” 

“I’m sure he’ll behave. He’s got plenty of — entertainment elsewhere, so I think she’s safe.” Hana agreed with a warm smile. 

“A female version of this toxic masculine Liam, huh?” Drake asked, amusement written on his features. “Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea to let them—” 

Maxwell suddenly rushed to the window, his eyes glued to the vehicle approaching. “She’s here! She’s here!” 

“Goddamnit, Beaumont,” Drake grumbled. “Do you gotta be so loud?” 

“Yes, I do. Otherwise, you might think something was wrong with me!” 

“Wouldn’t want that, of course.” Drake rolled his eyes. “Just try to be fucking normal for two seconds, would ya?”

Maxwell put his hands on his hips and faced Drake with utter seriousness. “What’s the baseline for normal, Drake? Who are you to tell me what’s ‘not normal’?” He air quoted. “Just because I don’t walk around flipping my hair, talking about bar-b-que—” 

“GUYS,” Hana interjected. She cleared her throat and smoothed out her dress with a polite smile. “Please refrain from — that.” 

Before Maxwell or Drake could respond, the sounds of loud, ear-piercing screeches filled the air. At the door, Riley jumped and hugged a redhead, spinning her around in circles. They could tell she was smaller than Riley and had a lighter, more intense shade of copper hair, but couldn’t get a good look at her face. 

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Riley exclaimed with tears of joy. 

“Are you kidding?! Like I would miss this!” Nicole responded with glistening eyes to match. 

“I can’t wait to show you everything. All my favorite places — oh!” Riley suddenly stepped away. “I found this food truck that makes the best nachos around… Very close to Ernesto’s.” 

“Nobody does it like he can, but you had me at nacho.” The sisters giggled before embracing each other once again.

“Seriously, Nikki… I’m so glad you’re here.” 

“I’m so happy to see you that for just this once, I’ll allow you to call me Nikki.” Nicole stepped away with a shudder. 

“Oh, I’m calling you Nikki the entire time.” 

Nicole rolled her eyes. “Riley, I’m not seven anymore — stop.” She glanced around at the massive estate. “You failed to mention that your house is actually a fucking castle. Does your mote have alligators in it?”

Riley snorted. “Not yet, but it’s fairly high on my to-do list.”

“A-hem.” A throat exaggeratedly cleared behind them, as Maxwell could no longer wait for his presence to be known. “Are you going to introduce us to the infamous Nikki?”

Nicole centered a death glare on her elder sister. “I’m just going to assume that everyone thinks my name is Nikki, thanks to you.” 

“How about those introductions?” Riley deflected with an innocent smile, as she led Nicole to the foyer where everyone waited. “You remember Hana?” 

“Of course!” Nicole exclaimed as she pulled Hana into a tight hug. “It’s good to see you again soon-to-be sister!” 

“You as well! We’re elated that you’re able to be here with us. We wouldn’t dream of having it any other way.” 

Nicole stepped away with an excited grin, and Riley continued down the line. “This is Maxwell. He’s—” 

“The absolute best.” He finished for her. “Master dancer, Lord DJ, the Squid King, tour guide extraordinaire—” 

“Dear God, if you’re listening, please take me from this madness…” Drake huffed, his head turned to the ceiling. 

Before Maxwell could retort, Riley quickly finished. “And that’s Drake.” 

Nicole snorted. “Makes sense.” 

“Whaddya mean?” Drake inquired with an arched brow. 

“Just seems like something you’d say, judging from what Riley told me.” 

“Oh, yeah?” When Nicole nodded, Drake continued. “What’d she tell you?” 

“Snarky, loyal to a fault.” 

Drake smirked. “Damn straight.” 

“She mentioned something about a marshmallow, though…” 

Drake sighed. “Seriously, Brooks? People I don’t even know think I’m some — soft glob of—” 

“I consider you to be a s’more.” Maxwell interrupted. 

“And what does that mean?” 

“What everyone else thinks, but with an added stick up your butt,” He stated, very matter-of-factly.

Nicole busted out with belly giggles. “That’s great. Do they do this all the time?” She asked Riley and Hana, as Drake and Maxwell went off into a fit of bickers. 

“Yep,” Hana answered. 

“Brotherly love,” Riley added with a smile. 

“I can see why you keep them around… They’re certainly — entertaining…” Nicole trailed off. 

Nicole took the distraction as an opportunity to check the men out with a hungry gaze. Drake immediately caught her eye, as he was more her typical ‘type’; tall, dark, and broad, with an air of mystery. She could tell underneath all that denim, he was packing. Not just in the nether regions, but she didn’t need to see him shirtless to know he was in immaculate shape — although, she wouldn’t complain about the view if the situation arose. 

She zeroed in on Maxwell and, although he was a tad shorter, he was just as chiseled. He spoke with his entire body, leaving very little to the imagination. Easy on the eyes and obviously a dork; she wondered if that facade would slip away when things got heated, or if he was that much of a goof in the bedroom as well. She imagined putting that question to the test and her little five-second fantasy nearly made her thighs quiver.

Riley noticed Nicole’s lustrous gaze fixated on her friends and swiftly threaded her arm through hers. “Let’s go have a drink, shall we?” 

Nicole nodded and the trio of women left Drake and Maxwell, arguing amongst themselves. Neither was aware they were now alone until Drake’s phone vibrated, momentarily halting their altercation.

Drake pulled out his device, but Maxwell immediately grew worried as he took in his surroundings. “Where is everyone? Did they leave?” He gasped and held a hand over his heart. “Was there a welcome party, and they didn’t tell me?!” 

“Max, SHUSH,” Drake grumbled as he typed out a text. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong, but…” 

“Drake, you know how I am with suspense. Tell me now, or — well, there is no or, just — tell me now.”

“Calm the fuck down… It’s Liam…” 

“What about him?” 

“He said he’s going to make it after all… He’s almost here.” 

In one of the sitting rooms not far away, Riley, Hana, and Nicole enjoyed their drinks. The conversation easily flowed between them as they caught up on the time they’d spent apart. Nicole spoke of her job, Jared, Daniel, and anything else she could think of. Riley and Hana excitedly told her about their life in Valtoria, the wedding arrangements, and the governance changes they intended to make. However, Riley knew she needed to address the gigantic elephant in the room. 

“Nikki…”

Nicole sighed. “That name, again.” 

Riley smiled at her sister’s annoyance. “Listen, I don’t want to be overbearing, but we need to revisit the rules.” 

Nicole visibly tensed, her anxiety skyrocketing. “What do you mean? I just got here. I haven’t even had the chance to do anything bad yet…” She nervously chuckled, uncomfortably shifting in her seat. 

Riley gave her an unsure glance. “I know that… But seriously, Nicole, please behave. No trysts, no games, none of that. You don’t know these people like I do — this is not New York anymore.” 

“I’m aware, Riley. I’m not an animal — I can control myself.” Nicole quickly retorted while ignoring her conscience, knowing what she’d already done. 

“I know you aren’t, Nikki, that’s not what I’m saying, but some people here are — undeniably charming, okay? Don’t fall for it.” 

Nicole swore she could feel every drop of sweat as it profusely poured down her forehead. “Is there someone in particular you’re speaking of?” She nonchalantly asked, but something told her she already knew the answer. 

“No.” Riley swiftly returned. “It’s a general rule that applies to anyone you meet here — understood?” 

“Yes, mother.” Nicole playfully retorted, hoping to ease some of Riley’s obvious worries. “I promise I will behave — cross my heart.” 

“Good…” Riley’s eyes softened. “How are you doing?” 

“I told you — I just got another promotion, Daniel is fine, Jared is—” 

“No, that’s not what I’m asking. How are you, Nikki?” 

“I’m fine, Riley. Things are… Okay, I guess.” She shrugged. “I just go to work and go home…” 

“And…” 

Nicole rolled her eyes and let out a small huff. “Don’t do this. I’m an adult and I can spend my time how I wish. I’m safe, nothing has happened—” 

“Yet.”

“Do you want to have this argument now? Right when I walk in the door?” 

Riley sighed. “No, I don’t… I’m sorry, I just — I worry about you.” 

“I know, but don’t. I am fine.” 

“Whatever you say…” 

“How are you two lovebirds doing?” Nicole deflected, hoping to shift the attention off of herself. 

Riley and Hana shared a flushed grin as they reached for the other’s hand. Nicole smiled to herself, undeniably happy her sister found her soulmate. 

“Great,” Riley answered. “I’m so excited to get married already. Planning this wedding has been a task in itself, but it’ll be worth it in the end…” she trailed off, gazing deeply into Hana’s eyes as if she saw the entire world mirrored back. 

“Awww… I would gag, but I’m just so fucking happy for you.” Nicole interrupted their moment with a laugh. 

“Thank you, Nicole. Again, we’re so happy you could be here with us.” Hana spoke with a warm grin. “I consider myself blessed every day that I'll get to call your sister my wife, but my heart is overjoyed from the family I'll gain too.”

“There is something I wanted to ask you…” Riley trailed off with radiating excitement, as she practically bounced in place. 

“Okay…” Nicole unsurely answered. 

“I wanted to know if you would be my maid of honor… I know it’s last minute but it’s the only role left to be filled and there is no one else I want in that spot, but I wanted to ask in person—” 

“Yes, yes, YES!” Nicole screeched. 

Riley rose from her seat with a squeal and engulfed Nicole in a tight hug. She briefly lifted her feet off the floor as she spun her around, but dropped her and extended a hand to Hana. “Get in here!” 

Hana did as told and their revelry turned into a circle, as they held hands and joyfully jumped around. After a long moment and a lot of hugs, they stepped away and sat back down, each taking a breath to calm their excitement. 

Nicole finally spoke after a few minutes of content silence. “So, tell me more about the wedding. Who is coming from back home? When will Jared be here? Is Daniel—” 

Maxwell suddenly burst through the door and somersaulted, landing with his hands on his hips. 

“Wow.” Nicole clapped with wide eyes. “Impressive.” 

“Don’t encourage it,” Drake pleaded as he entered behind Maxwell. “Uh, Brooks… Can I talk to you for a sec?” He asked while rubbing the back of his neck. 

Riley shot up from her seat as she took in his nervous demeanor. They made it out of the room, and Drake closed the doors before turning around to face her. “... Have you checked your phone lately?” 

“No…” Riley unsurely returned as she retrieved her device from her pocket. She unlocked the screen and saw multiple missed calls from Liam and a few texts, and her face drained of color. “Oh, no…” 

“Yeah…” 

“I thought he had a meeting! I extended the invitation after he told me he was busy!” 

“He said it got canceled…” Riley instantly started to pace in front of Drake, her anxiety clear as day. “Brooks, calm down… I’m sure everything is going to be fine. Ya can’t keep ‘em apart forever, you know…” 

“I know that,” Riley bit out. “But I don’t want them to end up hurting each other, Drake. I can barely live with myself because of what I did to Liam. If he ends up hurting Nicole because of what I did to him, then—” 

“Woah woah woah — back that shit up. You already know my opinion on the Liam ordeal, but you're making a lot of conclusions here…” He trailed off with a knowing look. “Listen… Has he made some questionable decisions? Sure. But — he’s still Liam.”

“I know… I know… I’m just… Being overprotective, I guess…” She responded as she bit her nails. 

“Stop doing that.” Drake gently pulled her hand away from her mouth. “Everything is going to be fine. You’re going to get married and it’ll be peaceful and beautiful and all that other frilly bullshit.” 

Despite her unease, Riley chuckled. “Thank you, Drake. You’re a great friend.” 

“Yeah, well, I shouldn’t be, considering even your sister thinks I’m a fucking marshmallow already. You know this means I’ll have to step up my asshole game, right? Thatta’ way she doesn’t think I’m warm and inviting.” He shuddered. 

“Just don’t take it too far otherwise I’ll have to intervene, and trust me — you won’t like me when I have to go into momma-bear mode.” She innocently smiled and batted her lashes, but her expression sent a shiver down Drake’s spine. She looked sweet but those eyes told a completely different story, causing him to swallow thickly and reassess the usually gentle being before him.

Before Drake could respond, Gladys appeared in the hallway with a bow. “Your Grace, His Majesty just arrived and is being settled.” 

“Thank you, Gladys…” Riley quietly answered with an audible gulp. 

Drake patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Brooks. I’m sure he’s going to be on his best behavior.” 

[txemrn]

Pour Two Glasses

Chapter 6: "...Everything's Turned Upside Down"

Need to catch up? Masterlist

✨ Have you checked out this teaser video yet? Pour Two Glasses Teaser✨

Word Count: 6150 (+/-)

Series Synopsis: In the midst of a violent political war, Queen Riley Rys’s life is dismantled overnight, forcing her to flee Cordonia to live in hiding as a commoner with a loyal, best friend

Series Song Inspo: ��Pour Two Glasses” by the Movielife

Chapter Song Inspo: "Broken Pieces Shine" by Evanescence

Series Warnings: 🔞 For Mature Audiences Only 🔞 angst; profanity; major character death; grief and mental health discussion; discussion of violence & war; alcohol use; NSFW material

A/N: I don't say this enough, so I hope it's okay I start this A/N with this message... to my beautiful readers: thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! I loved dreaming up this story, and knowing that y'all want more warms my heart! Thank you for all the messages, all the questions, and all of the encouragement! Please know I see each and every one of y'all, and I love y'all so dearly! Y'all are a huge part of P2G, and I can't thank you enough for being so kind! Sending out major hugs to each of y'all! 🖤

A/N 2: Characters and some plot references belong to our friends at Pixelberry. To my village, as always THANK YOU SO MUCH helping me bring this story to life! This was not beta'd, so please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

Riley spends most of her recovery time alone, secluded from the outside world. The stillness of the lonely mornings melt into the mundane hustle of the afternoons, and although time seems to pass before her eyes in a whirlwind blur, to the fallen queen, it trudges along slowly, creeping into her least favorite part of the day: the dark, listless nights.  

Due to the multiple terrorist threats made against the monarchy, not to mention the two bombs found during a routine sweep of the palace, the royal guard, the local police along with Interpol agreed the safest place for the queen of Cordonia was inside her hospital room despite being discharged days ago. 

Her physical therapist would visit on Mondays and Wednesdays while her doctors would visit Tuesdays and Fridays to ensure her recovery was on track. Healthcare workers were available upon request, but they would be accompanied by armed guards.

Drake, Olivia and Maxwell were given special clearance, and they kept to a round-the-clock schedule to ensure Riley was never alone.

That is, until she sent them away after the first week. Watching them grow ill with concern over her well-being added to her grief, and she hated being the reason for their stolen joy. Riley knew they meant well, and they never, ever complained for sitting by her side in complete silence.  Even Maxwell toned down his enthusiasm in his attempts to make her happy.  But Riley could see them slipping away into different versions of themselves, and the guilt festered in her heart.

Rarely sleeping and barely eating, Riley stopped taking her pain medications. She never would admit to her masochistic reasoning, but the physical discomfort served as a welcomed distraction from the agony she felt internally. She felt like she had little to no control over her life, but this, in a very sick, twisted way, this was hers.

It’s the following Friday, the small hours of the morning. Riley tosses and turns for another restless night of sleep as memories of only two weeks ago flash through her mind. Her husband’s funeral. The assassination attempt. Her own life unknowingly in the balances during a critical surgery.

With a subtle rumble in the distance, she opens an eye, and quickly notices the gathered rainclouds outside her lone, two-paned hospital window. Sitting up, she pulls on Liam’s sweatshirt before scooting the reclining chair in her room closer to the view of the angry sky.

The pelting raindrops and the howling wind put on quite the show, calming Riley's anxious heart. She used to love quiet moments with her late husband where they could share in the wonder of nature. As the storm continues to brew outside her room, her eyes grow heavy, the soothing sounds of the storm lulling her to sleep.

A sudden clap of lightning rips across the gray Cordonian sky, startling Riley awake.  She quickly sits up, her chest heaving as her eyes adjust to the darkness of her master bedroom. Feeling her pulse rapidly thrum in her ears, she reaches for her husband; but she is met with cold, barren sheets, tossed against her side.

“Liam?”  She sits on the side of the bed, slipping her house shoes on before standing to grab her robe. “Liam?” She cries out once more before the storm outside ignites the angry clouds with another crash of thunder. Gripping the fabric of her lapels in terror, she watches hypnotically as the countryside dims back into the darkness of night.

“Riley, my love.”  

Riley turns with a gasp.  Liam stands at the open French doors that lead to their balcony. The powerful winds flounce the curtains, billowing around his tall stature.

"I didn't mean to frighten you, darling." He takes Riley into his arms, laying her head intimately against his chest. "Did the storm wake you?"

At that moment, another crackle of thunder resounds, Riley instantly turning her attention to the open doors. Puddles gather around the terrace as sheets of rain pummel against the stone walls. Feeling her tremble in his arms, Liam tightens his embrace nuzzling his nose into his wife's dark locks.

"Mom used to point out how powerful the weather can be. Devastating homes. Sinking ships… and yet–" he takes a deep breath, "we're still here."

Riley loosens her grip. The cascades of heavenly water pour in a synchronized dance with the rumbles of thunder. The zephyr symphony lulls her into a trance as she marvels at the strength of the storm. Fierce. Intense.

And yet, we're still here.

"You'll survive this, too, my love–"

"Survive what–?" Riley looks up to her husband.

But he's gone; his arms no longer around her as his scent dissipates from the air they once shared.  But something strange is left hanging in her hands: a small, worn receiving blanket, the name 'William' embroidered in the corner. 

Huh?

Riley swivels anxiously around the room, her eyes wide as saucers. "Liam?" She cries out. "Please, baby," she looks in the other direction, but her husband is no where to be found. "Liam… I… I don't know…" her breath hitches, growing ragged as she finally slumps onto the ground. She looks at the blanket, her fingers tracing over the delicate stitching. "How, my love–?" She whispers under her sobs of helplessness. "How am I supposed to survive… without you?"

Suddenly, a bright light pours over her, the warmth of the sun shining on her porcelain skin.

“We’re not doing this anymore.”

Riley's eyes peek open, being met with beams of sunlight pouring through the window. She sees someone moving about the room, but her exhaustion refuses to allow her eyes to focus, and she quickly slumps back over.

"You need to get up, Riley."

Without warning, Riley’s blankets are abruptly pulled from her body. She sits up in her chair, rubbing her eyes. "Huh?"

"C'mon. Up, up!"

Finally coming to her senses, Riley zeroes in on the redhead bossing her around. And she scowls, relaxing back into her chair. "Olivia, I… come back later."

"No, ma'am." Olivia taps a lever on the recliner, shoving Riley into an upright position. "You are going to shower. I laid out some clothes for you," the duchess crosses her arms, "and you are going to rejoin the living."

"But–"

"Now," she claps her hands. "Scoot!"

Riley jumps up, grumbling under her breath as she moseys to the shower. Hearing the water turn on, Olivia smirks, playfully dusting off her hands. Satisfied with herself, she grabs a magazine and takes a seat, crossing her legs in victory.

After about twenty minutes, Riley emerges with a towel wrapped around her head along with a pair of jeans and a cotton tee.

"There. Happy, bossy britches?"

"Almost," Olivia offers a crooked smile. "Now that we've–eh–hosed you down, we need to work on getting that odor out of here. It smells like someone died in here–"

"Didn't they?" Refusing to make eye-contact, Riley remains stoic, down-trodden.  She moves the linens around on her bed before curling up with a pillow.

"No." Olivia stands up, sauntering to her friend's bed. "They didn't." She takes a seat on the edge of the mattress, Riley's back facing her. "You, my dear, are very much alive. And it's time you start living as such."

"Liv, I…" Riley sighs. "I just don't feel like going out and rejoining society right now."

"Who said anything about rejoining society?" She takes Riley's hand. "I said that it's time to start living like you're alive." Riley turns around, arching a curious brow at Olivia. "I'm not saying you need to stop grieving; but I am going to make you shower. And eat. And not waste away."

A stale stillness falls between the old friends as Riley pulls the covers over her body.  "I'm not in the mood," she mutters, sinking into her pillow.

Olivia lets out a heavy breath, standing up. She refuses to give up, unwilling to leave the queen's room. She leisurely paces around the space, folding and refolding her hands.  The resounding click-clack of her steps are hypnotic, almost soothing as she twists her crimson pout in deep thought. 

She understands that Riley is in mourning, and even though Olivia loved him, too, nothing would compare to the great loss of true love. But, still, she hates seeing Riley like this; they all do. But truth be told on matters of the heart, there is only one person that can get through to her.

"What would Liam say?"

Riley slowly turns, looking over her shoulder. "Excuse me?"

"Your husband," Olivia steps forward confidently, clasping her hands together.  "He died a hero, protecting our country, protecting me… and you. What would he say now if he saw you like this?"

Riley furrows her eyebrows, her hands balling into fists. How dare she. Was Olivia seriously trying to make Riley feel guilty for grieving her late husband? For grieving the life she was starting with him? For grieving the life she was supposed to have with him?

"Olivia, I–"

"You'll survive this, too," Olivia interrupts.

The irritated expression on Riley's face abruptly melts into pure shock.  Her eyes as Liam's words replay in her mind.

You'll survive this, too.

"I… I'm sorry, I …" she shakes her head in disbelief, "what did you say?"

"Ri," Olivia bounds to her side, grabbing Riley's hand endearingly in her hold. "You are one tough broad. You have proven that time and time again." Her lip begins to tremble, but she quickly stiffens her jaw. "Liam knew that. Hell, that's one of the reasons he fell in love with you." She sighs, her gaze bouncing back and forth in Riley's deep ocean eyes. "Losing Liam will be one of the most awful challenges you will ever have to face… but somehow wherever he is, I have to believe he is taking comfort that you are strong enough for this." She squeezes tightly on Riley’s fingers. "You'll survive this, too."

Riley stares at Olivia, processing what she was saying–especially the words that seemed to mirror Liam's. 

And they're right.  It feels like hell right now, and Riley can't even begin to fathom a life without her beloved… but he would want better for her.  He lived a life so that she could have better.

It was time to start living.

------

"You're cheating!" Maxwell hisses, pointing an accusing finger at Olivia.

"I am not, Beaumont," the Scarlet Duchess shuffles through the cards in her hands. "You're just not good at counting to twenty-one."

"You've won each time you've been the dealer." He throws down his cards. "Shenanigans!"

Hugging her stomach tightly, Riley can’t help but laugh uncontrollably, her sides already in stitches. “Stop!” She gasps for air as she continues to titter. “I–I can’t!”  She falls forward on her bed, her head hitting a pillow as her giggles fill the room.  Maxwell and Olivia join in on the laughter, giving each other a subtle nod of relief. She’s coming back to life.

The three friends have spent most of the morning together at the hospital, catching up and playing games. To her visitor’s surprise, Riley decided she wanted to take a walk around the hospital–to areas that had been cleared by the royal guard, of course.

Together, they meandered to the hospital’s private prayer garden on a terrace just outside the pediatric floor. The warmth of the sun on her skin and the fresh scent of the potted greenery exhilarated her senses.  The natural pink tone of her skin quickly returned to her cheeks, highlighting her genuinely bright smile as she scrunched her nose at the floral smells.

On the way back to her room, Riley walked by the newborn nursery.  Stopping at the large window that showcased several cooing babies, wrapped in pink and blue receiving blankets, she pressed her fingertips gently against the glass, admiring each one silently. Although tears gather in her eyes, she begins to quietly talk to each chubby face, fussing over how adorable they are.

“Oh, you’re going to be trouble, mister, with those dimples…”

“Look at those beautiful black curls!”

“I know your mommy and daddy must love you so much…”  

If only…

Finally making it back to her assigned floor, the friends were greeted by Riley’s primary physician and his assistant along with the best news ever: the palace passed its final security check.  All Riley needed now was clearance through Interpol and one more physical–per the request of the Royal Council to ensure her health–and she would soon be on her way back home.  

As the healthcare team exits, a sudden wave of surreality washes over the room. Going home. Riley hasn’t been home in almost three weeks, and even before that, she hasn’t slept in her own bed since the start of the Royal Wake. What would be waiting for her when she walked into her quarters?  Is everything waiting for her to come home exactly how she left it?  Exactly how he left it?

Biting her lip, she takes a moment of silence, her hand finding Liam’s rings on her necklace. She fiddles with his wedding band, the jewelry easily gliding onto her pointer finger.  And that’s when she feels it: the inscription inside the gold band. And her eyes flutter close. Pour Two Glasses. Everything would be expecting her return.

Except him.

Riley shakes her head, glancing back up at Maxwell and Olivia. Giving them an appreciative grin, she grabs the deck of cards on her bedside table, blinking away her tears. “Best two out of three?”

------

The three friends have been playing for a little over an hour when there’s an abrupt knock at the door.  A large smile grows across Riley’s face as the familiar smirk of her royal guard saunters into the room.

“There’s my hero,” Riley singsongs. From her bed, she extends her arms in the air, inviting Drake into a hug.  A blush swirls across his cheeks as he leans in, tucking her petite body under his chin.

“How are you feeling?” He whispers before gently letting her go.

“I’m okay,” Riley nods. “I’m gonna be okay.”  She pats the mattress next to her. “C’mon, partner,” she mimics a Texan accent. “Let’s teach these two how to play Texas Hold ‘Em.”  Olivia rolls her eyes as Maxwell titters, pretending to throw a lasso around Drake.

Drake chuckles, pushing a fist into his pocket as he stares at the ground. “I wish I could, but–”  he combs his fingers through his thick, chestnut hair as he gazes back up at his friends. “I got lucky and found a plane out of Munich at 5AM, so… I’m taking a train there. Tonight.”

“Oh my gosh,” Riley’s face etches with shock. “So soon?”

“When does the train leave?” Olivia’s eyebrows pinch together.

“In about–” he looks at his watch before snickering to himself. “About two hours.”  A stillness falls across the friends, sharing sad, concerned looks. “C’mon, you guys,” Drake attempts to lighten the mood. “We knew this day was coming… and I’m coming back.”

“When?” Maxwell questions softly.

“I guess… when Mom…” he gnaws on the inside of his mouth, searching for the right words. “When… everything is taken care of, I guess.”

Riley climbs out of bed, throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace. “Don’t forget where your home is, Walker,” she sniffles.

“Like you’d let me forget?” He chuckles. His large arms envelope her against his chest as he nuzzles his nose into her curls, breathing her in deeply. His voice grows husky as he rests his lips against her head. “I’m going to miss you, Brooks.”

Riley pulls back, resting her hand on his upper arm. “I’m going to miss you, too.” A coy smile teases on his lips as a twinkle of hope illuminates his cognac eyes–that is, until Riley continues. “You’ve always been such a great friend.  Liam sure hit the jackpot with you–” she turns to Maxwell and Olivia, “--with all of you.”

Drake nods agreeably, looking away from his best friend’s widow, chastising himself for having such fleeting thoughts of hope. He turns to Maxwell to give him a firm handshake before turning to Olivia. “Can I… talk to you? For a second?”  He whispers to the redhead before looking back at Riley and Maxwell. He holds his hand up, waving goodbye before exiting the room with Olivia right behind him.

Riley glances towards Maxwell, offering a sympathetic grin and shrugging her shoulders. Their group of friends is shrinking, but at least they have each other.

“He’s so obvious,” Maxwell giggles, winking at the queen as he takes a sip of a glass of water.

Riley scrunches her eyebrows. “Obvious? About what?”

Maxwell freezes, staring at Riley as an awkward silence floods between them. “Uh… Nevermind, honey–”

They both startle as Olivia bounds back into the room, slipping back into her seat. Without making eye-contact, she crosses her legs before grabbing her playing cards, mindlessly rearranging them in her hand. She's unusually quiet and pensive, her eyebrows slightly wrinkled as she appears to be deep in thought about something.

"Is… everything okay?" Riley asks.

She peers up to Riley nervously, but within moments, a crooked smile forms on her cherry red pout. "Yes… of course."  She glances back at her cards, but it's useless; there's too much she needs to say. "Ri, do you know what a black box is?"

"Like on a plane?" Maxwell clarifies with curiosity, folding his cards and resting them on the table.  Olivia nods slowly as her attention shifts back to Riley.

"It records sounds, right?" Riley starts, her tone cautiously meek. "Sounds from inside the plane? So in the event it… it… well, you know…"  Olivia softly bounces her head affirmatively, rolling her lips. "Did something happen?" Riley nervously titters, glancing at a confused Maxwell. "Was there something… something terrible on Liam’s recording?"

Olivia folds her cards, tapping the stack on the table. "No, it's just…" her words trail off as she remains lost in thought.

"Liv," Riley crosses her arms. "What are you trying to hide?" 

Olivia sighs. "My apologies. I guess I'm trying to process it myself. Apparently the guard had their weekly briefing last night with Interpol. Drake had to turn in some last minute paperwork for his leave, so he was in attendance." 

"What does this have to do with the black box?" Maxwell interjects.

"It's gone," Olivia blurts out. "It was never recovered from Liam's plane. So, there's a strong possibility that–"

"It was stolen," Riley interrupts.

"Precisely, meaning this was orchestrated by the coup somehow."

"Wait," Maxwell holds up his hands, "how did anyone know that was Liam's plane though? How would they know to specifically steal from that plane? Wasn't he supposed to be traveling incognito?"

Olivia nods, exhaling heavily. "They're launching an investigation… for possible espionage." 

"An inside job?" Riley croaks, a lump forming in her throat. "From Cordonia?"

"We don't know just yet," Olivia reassures, "that's why they're looking into it.  But I'm thinking they need some help… and I know just the person to ask."

Riley's room door suddenly slides open, surprising the group of friends.  The doctor slowly steps in with the queen's medical chart, a solemn, almost grim expression etched on his face.

"I'm not sure I like the worried look in your eyes, sir," Riley anxiously giggles. "Don't tell me I'm staying here longer."

"Oh," he cordially forces a grin. "Your security, as well as the international police have cleared everything–"

"So she gets to go home?" Maxwell's breath baits with hope and excitement.

"Yes, yes. You get to go home. The guard will be in touch with you soon."

"Oh, thank God," Olivia smirks.

"Finally!" Maxwell exclaims, standing to his feet and ready to pack.

But Riley stays silent, her attention fixed on her physician. She can tell he has more to say. She can sense a sadness in his demeanor, putting her on edge, not ready to celebrate her homecoming just yet.

"What aren't you telling me, doctor?" She asks softly. "Is it my physical? Am… am I okay?"

The older man sets down Riley's chart, resting his hand on top of it as his endearing eyes find hers. "We need to talk."

"Is it serious?" Olivia interjects.

With a heavy sigh, the physician turns towards Maxwell and Olivia. "How about you two give us just a minute alone–?"

"No," Riley stops him. "I need… Can I have someone…?" Riley looks between Olivia and Maxwell, having a silent conversation of who should stay.

"I'll step out," Maxwell grabs his phone. "Let me make sure the guard is bringing an SUV and not a sedan," he winks.

As the door closes, the older man cautiously sits down next to Riley, taking her hand. She squeezes it tightly, preparing herself for the news he was about to share with her. Was something wrong? Was she dying?

"Never in a million years did I think you and I would be having this conversation," he exhales, pinching the bridge between his eyes. "This… this is completely out of my scope of practice, so I will be referring you to a specialist, but–"

"Sir," Riley stops him. "Please… just… tell me the truth."

------

Riley paces back and forth, ringing her hands in between biting her nails.

“Will you sit down–?”

“And what, Olivia?” She tosses her hands in the air, allowing her arms to slap carelessly against her sides.  “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Well,” Olivia scoffs, “for starters, you are going to calm down–”

“Calm down?” Riley twirls around, a wave of fury crashing over her features. Her blood-shot eyes stare daggers into her red-headed friend.   “You heard the damn doctor. This… this can’t be happening.  And… you…”  she presses a hand to her chest, her breathing labors as a sob rips through her chest. “You actually expect me to be okay? With this?”

“Riley,” Olivia calls her name sternly, “take a moment. Things could–”

“--could be worse?” She finishes her words.  “How, Livvy?”  She covers her face with her hands as she wanders aimlessly in the room. “Oh God,” she whispers hoarsely, her voice hidden by her tears. “When this gets out–”

“It won’t.”

Riley tisks, mocking Olivia. “This won’t stay a secret for long. And when it gets out, an even bigger bullseye will be painted on my back. They hate the Rys name. They will attack again–”

“Other monarchs have gone through similar situations, and their health concerns have been kept under wraps.  The council will be sure of it–”

“The council?” Riley looks off, shaking her head. “They already want to get rid of me. You know the law. I can no longer serve as the reigning queen. I’m not Cordonian–-”

“You will always be a queen, Riley.  The council will support you–”

“--they’ll expedite getting rid of me.”  Riley collapses into the recliner in her room. She hangs her head in her arms as her elbows rest on her knees. “The council is looking out for what’s best for Cordonia, especially now that the throne has been attacked–not once, but twice. They’re searching for stability; they’re looking to rebuild their leadership, and that starts with the throne. I fear that… I fear that as long as there's still a Rys, Cordonia will never see peace.”

Olivia pulls her chair closer, laying a hand on Riley’s shoulder. “The war won't last forever. And this? This could be your ticket. The throne is the only thing left to protect you–”

 “These traitors want every part of the Rys name destroyed, and without Liam, my days on the throne are already numbered. When they find out…” she exhales a pained breath.  “Even If I could hide behind the council, the Combattants will return to finish the job. They know I’m still here. I’m on every goddamn news report!”

“Riley, you–”

“I can’t do this.” She abruptly stands up, rushing past Olivia as she grabs her suitcase.  She begins piling her belongings into the dividers. “I need to go–”

“Home,” Olivia interjects, placing her hands on Riley’s trembling hands. "Let's take you home where you're safe."

Riley shakes her head. “N–no, I need to go. I need to leave.” She grabs her phone. “I need a ticket back to the States–”

“Riley Rys. Slow. The fuck. Down. You’re not thinking–”

“I can’t be here another moment. I have to go. I need to hide–”

“Where? Where are you going to hide?” Olivia scoffs, folding her arms. “Even if you could, all air travel has been suspended to and from Cordonia until further notice.  That’s why poor Walker had to take a train.”

Riley stills. She glances over at her friend as an abrupt realization washes over her expression.

Drake.

“You.”

Olivia raises an eyebrow. “Me?”

“According to Cordonian law, you’re next in line if something were to happen to me–”

“Hold up,” Olivia raises her hands in surrender. “If, and that’s a big if, something were to happen to you, yes, I would be crowned. But, that’s not how this works. You’re still alive, therefore the council–”

“What if I was incapacitated?” 

Olivia lets out a condescending laugh. “You are being ridiculous, you know that?”

“No, I’m being serious.” Riley grips tightly to Olivia’s shoulders, forcing her to listen. “The council hasn’t stripped me of my title as reigning queen yet, and as long as I’m the reigning monarch, I can claim a medical leave-of-absence… which means–”

“You appoint the replacement during the hiatus," Olivia smirks sarcastically, pulling away from Riley's. "Not gonna happen."

"Olivia, please."

"And what are you going to do? Huh? You still need medical care. Hiding isn't exactly easy when you're the queen of an entire country–"

"But–"

"--that is grieving their king–"

"But–"

"--and their queen has been all over international news for surviving an assassination attempt." Riley huffs, rolling her eyes as Olivia continues. "You'll leave fingerprints everywhere you go. And I'm not saying they're going to try and track you down… but those bastards were able to find Liam. Running and hiding? It… it's pointless. Stay. Trust the council. We can protect you."

Riley chews on her lip, her attention locked on her friend. "No. That's not good enough. Not anymore." Her eyelids flutter as she takes a deep breath. "I think I've got an idea."

------

The rhythmic pulse of the train car lulls Drake into a hypnotic relaxed state, and before long, he succumbs to the exhaustion of the past six weeks. Resting his head against the window, he watches as the Cordonian countryside flashes before his vision until finally his eyes close. 

Furrowing his brows, however, he hears loud, indiscernible voices outside of his state room.  When the conversation finally ends, he readjusts himself in his chair, using his discarded denim shirt as a make-shift pillow.

His door abruptly slides open.

Fuck.

He grimaces, quickly turning to address his unwanted interruption.

But his face falls in shock.

"Brooks?"

"Hi," she smiles meekly, removing her oversized sunglasses and hat. "Can I… come in?"

"Yeah," Drake jumps up, removing his carry-on bags from the second seat. He gestures to the spot next to him. "Please."

Riley gingerly sits down, her eyes transfixed to the gorgeous scenery flashing by outside the large train window.  Drake slowly lowers himself into his chair, his disbelief frozen on his face as he stares at his good friend.

Feeling his gaze on her, Riley tears away from her reverie. She chuckles nervously, coyly shrugging her shoulders. "Surprised?"

The corner of Drake's mouth turns up. "That's one way to put it." He runs a hand through his thick, tousled hair as he notices her bandages peeking through her shirt. "I'm guessing you were given the 'all clear'? They discharged you?" 

Riley's attention averts back to the window, staring at the whirls of the evergreen hills melting with the watercolor sky. Her eyes begin to glaze over, forgetting to even blink as she mindlessly chews on her bottom lip.  She holds her hands in her lap, ringing them incessantly as she fidgets with her fingers. 

"Riley?"

She blinks quickly, her attention returning to Drake, his hand gripping onto her arm to steady her. “Hrmm?”

"I've been calling your name for a few minutes." His eyebrows knit with worry. "Are you… are you okay?"

Riley opens her mouth, but is unable to form words. She picks at her chipped manicure as she presses her tongue to her cheek.

"I, um… I need your help." She glances back up to Drake, her eyes wide in fear.

"O…Kay. Sure," he leans closer to her, resting his elbows on his knees. "Ri, what's going on?"

------

The clatter of heels reverberates through the main corridor of the ultra-modern, ultra-sleek estate of Monterisso.  Though she has not come across another soul, she knows plenty of eyes are hidden in nooks and crannies, watching her every move in the form of motion detectors and cameras. Coming to the pristine royal office, she gives a firm knock on the oversized, cherry wood door before inviting herself in.

"Olivia Nevrakis." A sultry voice calls from the large, tufted leather chair on the opposite side of the room.

The red head sardonically snickers before crossing her arms, popping her hip to the side. "Alright, Amalas," she sasses, "how did you know it was me?"

A beautiful woman with long espresso tresses and darkened, exotic features slowly turns her chair around to face her visitor.  She smirks at her long-time friend, extending her arm to show off her impressive display of monitors with live-feed surveillance to every entrance into the palace.

The Scarlet Duchess wriggles up her nose, rolling her eyes. "Of course."

"You know?" Amalas stands up, sauntering her curves slowly to her icy guest. "Most people address me as 'your majesty'--"

"Not today," Olivia bites, raising an eyebrow. 

Amalas sighs, leaning against the front-side of her desk. “What do you want, Livvy?”

"I have an important proposal for you."

“We don’t have an appointment.”

“I need your help.”

The Spy Queen steps forward, crossing her arms. "You? You are in need of some help?" She lets out a boisterous laugh as she sneaks closer to her unexpected guest. She motions with her pointer finger for Olivia to come closer to listen. "You know," she whispers, "you were supposed to call me the next morning."

With a deep rouge blossoming across her cheeks, Olivia steps back, scoffing into a chuckle. Amalas furrows her eyebrows with a mischievous smirk.

Checkmate.

Four months ago, after years of stolen glances and secret trysts, Amalas invited Olivia to her estate for a low-key, intimate weekend to discuss the possibilities of taking their relationship to the next level. And public. After one last night of passion, Amalas woke up to an empty bed with a note that said, 'I'll call. -Liv"

She never did.

Now with Olivia seeking a favor, Amalas is tickled. As far as good deeds, alliances and negotiations, she just made it abundantly clear that she has the upper-hand. And Olivia just realized she fucked up.

Satisfied with her visitor’s reaction, Amalas turns on her heel and walks back to her desk. "You can see yourself out."

The red head sneers into a sarcastic snicker, stepping forward. "Oh c'mon, Amalas–"

"If you didn't need me then," Amalas spins around, irritated. "You don't need me now, Nevrakis." She takes a seat before shuffling through some folders and papers. "Oh,” she looks up, void of emotion, “please shut the door when you leave. Thanks."

Olivia storms forward. "Amalas, this isn't about me–about us. This is for Cordonia and finding who was responsible for Liam's death–"

Amalas stops abruptly, a stack of papers held motionless in her hand. Swallowing thickly, she glances up at Olivia. "Liam's death… was an unfortunate result of this damn war."

"Yes, but he was a mediator."

Amalas raises an eyebrow. "Your point?"

Olivia puts her palms flat on the large, ornate wooden desk. "My point is that they always protect political mediators. Liam's location was always highly confidential. No one, and I mean no one knew his whereabouts."

Amalas stacks her document on her desk. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she leans back in her chair, resting her chin on her palm. "So?"

"That plane was obliterated, Ams. Someone hunted it down and destroyed every last piece of it.”

The queen smirks. “And did you know that Les Combattants de la Liberté are military-trained?”

“But–”

“Military-trained,” Amalas holds up a hand, her words louder.  “Taking out Liam’s aircraft like that?” She shakes her head slowly. “It’s not a huge feat for them. They are literally trained to take out any enemy in the blink of an eye.”

“Ams,” Olivia subtly wipes away a tear before clenching her jaw. “You’re not listening to me.”

Amalas sighs. "Look." She lowers her voice, her eyes finding Olivia’s piercing jades. “Liam was a friend of mine, too, babe.” She bites her lip, turning to a gold picture frame on the corner of her desk.  The photograph hosts a pair of young, bright smiles, she in her lacy white and him looking dapper than ever. A lump forms in Amalas’s throat as she begins to fidget with the gold band that remains on her left finger. “I know when something tragic happens to the ones we love, we want someone to pay for it, as if revenge will somehow heal our loneliness because the grief alone is too heavy–much too heavy for one person to bear–”

“The black box is missing,” Olivia interjects.

Amalas's face slowly falls into a suspicious confusion, her forehead wrinkling. “What?”

“The black box. You know? It’s supposed to record–”

Amalas holds up her hand, “Yeah, yeah, I know. What do you mean it’s missing?”

“I mean it’s never been recovered.”

Amalas’s jaw ticks as she stares at Olivia. Silence consumes the room, save for the ticking of the queen's watch, growing painfully louder by the second. But without warning, intrigue finally blooms across Amalas’s face, and her heart softens to hear Olivia’s request. Justice for Liam. Justice for Cordonia.

The black box is designed to withstand the blistering temperatures of a fire and the crushing impact of the engulfing pressures of the deep. The thought of such precious equipment, of actual recordings of the last moments of that cockpit, of King Liam… if they were actually removed with malicious intent, then Olivia is right. Classified information was leaked, Liam was specifically targeted, and this coup is a lot more dangerous and a lot more in control of this war than projected.

“Well, Ms. Nevrakis, I believe you have my attention.”  

Olivia smirks as she pulls up a chair.  

“Oh!” Amalas stands up from her desk, “I’m sorry. Just… not right now.” She looks at her watch.  “I actually have a very important meeting right now.”

Olivia scoffs. “With who?”

“Oddly enough, I have an important meeting with the Queen of Cordonia.”

A Cheshire grin crawls across Olivia’s face as she opens up her arms as if to present herself as a gift. “Well, oddly enough, the Queen of Cordonia is already in your presence.”  Shock consumes Amalas as her jaw drops open, Olivia snickering under her breath. “You can address me as ‘your majesty,’ Queen Amalas.”

------

"I–I don't know… how to say this," Riley stammers, anxiously pulling at her necklace that held her late husband's rings. 

Drake keeps his gaze locked on her, a pit growing in his stomach. They had said their goodbyes less than three hours ago; what could possibly have changed?

Was it a threat? Was her life being threatened again by the Combattants? No way. This wouldn't warrant the queen of Cordonia herself to board a train in hopes to catch her former royal guard to deliver such a message. Drake would probably get a phone call about it, but as of yesterday, he was relieved from his duties until further notice.

So… what was it?

“Riley?” His voice is gruff, but sincere. Their gazes meet, a vacant sadness in her eyes as she searches his for… something. Strength? Hope? Understanding?

Drake stops her from fidgeting with her jewelry, taking her petite hand into his own large, calloused palm. "It's… it's okay. We don't have to talk about this right now if you don't want to, but I–"

"Drake, I–" Her eyelashes flutter closed as tears course down her pink stained skin. "--I'm so sorry, I–"

"Hey," he hums softly, "shhhh, it's okay." He pulls her closer to his side, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. He gently rubs a thumb over her skin to gently dry her cheeks. "Listen," his voice remains low, soothing. "You have nothing to be sorry about. It's been," he sighs, "a rough couple of months, and… well, no matter what, Brooks, you know I'm here for–"

“I’m pregnant.”

~🖤~

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

~🖤~

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[dcbbw]

Praise the Lord (#MBAW)

 This story is my late af submission for #Maxwell Beaumont Appreciation Week. If I’ve done this correctly, it covers many of the topics and themes presented to honor everyone’s favorite Beaumont. You’ll hear from the love interests I’ve paired him with; an ex; family; friends; and possibly the Man of the Hour himself; all will share their thoughts, ideas, and perspectives on who Maxwell Beaumont is and what makes him tick.

I borrowed @choicesflashfics’ Week #17 prompt #3: “You can disagree all you want, but that doesn’t make me any less right.” It will appear in bold.

THANK YOU to those who read over snippets of this endeavor; it truly is a labor of love and took a village. Special mention to @ao719 for her suggestions and insight.  THANK YOU to all who will read this; your likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated more than you realize.

Please excuse any and all typos, missing/extraneous words, and/or grammatical errors. MS Editor rates this story as 98% error free.

Going with T for TEEN for the rating

Not really pairings, just some Maxwell appreciation

No triggers or warnings

All characters belong to Pixelberry

Song Inspo: Norman Fucking Rockwell, Lana Del Rey

Word Count: 5,085

Duchess Riley Brooks Beaumont (Acquittal AU)

The Duchess of Valtoria enters the room slightly crouched, looking  down at her daughter Annabelle; a wide, pleased smile splits her lips as she watches her child toddle without stumbling or falling.

“I did it!” Annabelle crows proudly.

“Yes, you did, my darling,” her mother agrees.

It’s been six months since her husband’s acquittal on charges of treasonous acts against the Crown. The worry lines that had creased her brow are gone; the wariness in her eyes has faded. But she holds her daughter’s hand a little too tightly; she checks the door alarm, and her glance falls too often to the security monitors that have been installed throughout her Great House.

She reluctantly lets go of Annabelle’s hand to allow the child to roam freely throughout the room; the baby runs to play with a stuffed toy collection. It’s a sizable one, taking up nearly a quarter of the area and filled with sea creatures, farm animals, plush dolls, dinosaurs, peacocks, and a life-size, glitter-covered Peppa Pig.

“Her father bought her those,” the Duchess says softly in explanation. “Every piece.” Her eyes cloud over with emotion. “He loves her beyond measure. Belle is an answered prayer for both of us.”

She sits, tossing one shapely leg over the other. “I know no one anticipated Maxwell and I to marry; hell, I don’t think Maxwell and I expected it!” She laughs, a genuine one that tilts her head back. “Our relationship is something neither of us saw coming, which may be the reason it’s so special.”

“Mama, turn around,” Annabelle demands, and her mother looks over to see her daughter making a sequined squid and a bright green peacock dance.

The Duchess claps enthusiastically at the performance before resuming the conversation.

“People ask what I see in him, what he has that a literal King doesn’t. I don’t answer because my choice of a life partner is not and will never be dictated by public opinion or pressure. But in addition to our friendship, Maxwell is a helper. Liam defends me, which is nice and frankly the least he could do since it was his father and head guard behind the scandal.

“Drake could be considered a protector, but his arrival at my door that night in Applewood was sheer luck. But in the midst of the scandal … it was Maxwell. He helped me chase down the reporter, he helped find Tariq. Yes, it was at Liam’s directive, but Maxwell would’ve found a way to help regardless. It’s what he does. Sometimes not well, but that’s neither here nor there.

“During the social season, it was Maxwell who helped me navigate Court. Maxwell was the one who helped clean House Beaumont when the workers didn’t show up, it was Maxwell who came up with the idea of the pretentious description for an ordinary appetizer we pulled together last minute. He helps, and that’s important to me.”

She frowns slightly as she studies her wedding ring.

“He’s forgetful, loyal to a fault to the wrong people, tends to not take certain responsibilities too seriously, and DO NOT get me started on his stress dancing. But his love? His love is magnificent and unwavering and when he bestows it upon you in whatever capacity … it’s forever.”

Her eyes glance at the security monitor before falling upon her daughter who is singing Happy Birthday as she pushes a plastic teacup in front of a Raggedy Ann doll.

“And I wouldn’t have him any other way.”

Riley Brooks Beaumont (ex-wife, UnRomance AU)

Riley Brooks Beaumont enters the restaurant, the hem of her navy dress swirling about her ankles. Her eyes narrow as they adjust to the dim lighting. She makes her way to the table; Maxwell Beaumont’s ex-wife has reached her chair when her head swivels and her eyes widen slightly.

At the next table is a tall Asian man with dark hair and eyes, holding a lunch meeting with what appears to be a client. Spreadsheets, charts, and graphs lay before him, and the low murmur of his voice travels slightly as he explains what the numbers represent.

He looks up; there is no recognition as he locks eyes with Riley briefly before he continues speaking. She’s slightly flustered as she sits, and quickly swallows iced water with lemon. Her eyes, filled with puzzled disbelief, dart to the Asian man before she begins speaking.

“Max and I are still friends, still friendly,” she begins. Her voice is low, her tone nostalgic. “We’re definitely better apart than we ever were together, and it’s no one’s fault.”

A waiter arrives with a glass of wine she didn’t order, and she shakes her head negatively. The water is sufficient.

“We met in Cordonia where we were both backpacking our way through the Mediterranean. We arrived with separate groups, but we ditched them to explore on our own. I never saw those people again.” She chuckles slightly. “Our romance was a whirlwind, much like Max himself. He has an energy … a … restlessness that’s contagious. He sees everything through rose-colored glasses and has an inherent kindness that makes him pretty irresistible. He wants to do right by those he’s closest to, but it’s hard for him to take the necessary actions to do so.”

Her phone pings; with an apologetic look, she picks up the cell and swiftly reads a text message. She sets it face down on the table as she speaks again.

“Not saying that Max is lazy, but he needs pushing and direction at times. He needs focus.

“I need to be the partner, the helpmate, to be able to give up control and let the man lead. But I couldn’t do that with Max; I was the one working, worrying about bills, and running the relationship. I met his needs, he couldn’t meet mine. He was content to let me support his dreams, but not motivated enough to actually work on them.

“I ended up mothering him, and we both resented me for it. Yet for all the accusations and arguments, he didn’t want the divorce; I did.”

The waiter returns, this time with a tray of food. It’s the mahi mahi lunch platter, with rice pilaf and broccoli florets. A look of panicked bewilderment crosses her face; she hasn’t even looked at the menu. Her eyes dart to the next table again; the Asian man is engrossed in conversation between bites of fish and rice pilaf.

“There were good times. Fun times. At our wedding, we delivered our vows via a rap battle. We would get drunk off cheap wine and lay on the rooftop, staring at the stars and making wishes.  We danced, and dear God, could he make me laugh! We wanted children, but it never happened for us. Maybe things would’ve been different if it had.” Her voice trails off, and she looks sadly at her plate of food.  

“Max and I were what we wanted, but not what we needed. Since our divorce, he’s been focused on his goals and growing up. He’s dating my best friend, which is slightly awkward for me, but she isn’t trying to mold him or control him. Penelope lets Max be, and he thrives best when he can just be. His timetable is different from everyone else’s; he’s always been one to march to his own beat.”

At the next table, the businessman is putting away his paperwork; he stands as he and the client shake hands. He picks up his phone when he sits back down, fingers typing swiftly. Riley’s phone pings again. She glances down, then across at the man who is now signing his receipt.

“I have to go,” she says as she rises from her chair. “Please know that Max is a great guy, he just needs too much support; I couldn’t continue to give it to him.”

Her lunch sits untouched as she walks out the restaurant’s doorway, in step with the man from the next table.

Olivia Nevrakis (Max’s girlfriend, DC AU)

“I can sum Maxwell Beaumont in two words,” Olivia Nevrakis states as she blows over a cup of fragrant tea to cool the liquid. “Perfect peace.”

Her very expression softens as she gazes as a picture of the two of them that sits on a floating shelf. Olivia is facing the camera, her tongue poked out through unpainted lips while flipping the photographer the bird. Maxwell stands behind her, his head dipped downward and his lips pressing into her hair; his face is in profile and shadow.

“I’m a difficult woman; I’m self-sufficient, stubborn, and used to taking care of myself. Max … he doesn’t try to change me. He’s my safe space. I can vent to him, I can laugh with him.” A slight pause; she appears to struggle with her next admission.

“I can be vulnerable with Max. I can cry around him. I can tell him my secrets, my innermost thoughts. Do you know how hard that is for someone as jaded as I am? But with Max, everything is just … easy.

“You know what? We never quarrel. Never. And trust me, I try it. Because he’s a little too good to be true sometimes. But he looks at me with those impossibly blue eyes of his and says, “You can disagree all you want, but that doesn’t make me any less right.” She sips her tea and grimaces at the taste. “Who can argue with that?”

Olivia reaches for a jar of honey and pours some into the cup, followed by cream. She stirs briskly, blending the flavorings into her beverage. An expression of satisfaction settles over her features when she sips again.

“Max is … balanced. That’s the only way to describe it. For all the weed, sex, junk food, and silly dancing … there’s meditation, massages, flowers for no reason, deep conversations, and cuddles. We share the chores and split the bills. We support each other in whatever way we need to. He doesn’t pigeon-hole either of us into roles or societal norms. We’re a team and a team gets in where they fit in.

“Now if I can just get him to curb his generosity when it comes to freely sharing the good green, he would be absolute perfect peace. “

Duke Liam Rys (Max’s fiancé, Laxwell AU)

“Max is my favorite subject; he’s my favorite everything!” The Duke of Valtoria laughs as his cheeks color pink.

“I’ve known him practically my entire life, but it took Drake Walker running away for me to truly see Max, to wonder what he and I could have without losing our friendship. And I want to clarify right now that Max is NOT a rebound! He’s too special, too pure to be anything other than first choice. Hell, only choice!”

Liam looks through his closet, pulling a pair of tan-colored linen pants and tossing them onto his bed. The bed he shares with Lord Maxwell Beaumont. He’s agreed to pick his fiancé up from Ramsford; from there they are headed to Portavira for a seafood dinner with the Ebrims.

“Max is horribly underestimated. Everyone sees the party boy, the slacker, the former fat kid with the jokes. But there is so much more to him than that. He’s in university, working on a double major in economics and digital marketing. His social skills are the envy of Court; he isn’t the best at reading a room, but Max is the best at reading a person. He has not one enemy within Court, and that is a testament to who he is as a person.

“His jokes are his way of covering his insecurities; he’d rather make you laugh than be the butt of laughter. He can keep a confidence. If I had to choose only one of his best qualities, it would be that he doesn’t gossip. Except with me, and even then, it’s on a need-to-know basis.”

A short-sleeved linen shirt the exact color of the pants gets tossed onto the bed as well. The Duke squats as he inspects rows upon rows of shoes.

“He saved me, you know,” Liam whispers, almost to himself. “Max was there at the two lowest points of my life. First Drake, then the assassins. You know how they say when one door closes, another one opens? You just have to get there. Believe me, it is utter hell in the hallways between doors. Max held my hand in the hallways.”

He pulls a pair of cognac-colored fisherman sandals, his eyes narrowed as he studies the contrast in colors. “It’ll work,” he sighs as the shoes join the outfit.

“Max is the yin to my yang. He stops me from being too serious, and overthinking everything. He turns the fear into excitement. Everything with him is an adventure.” The young noble gives a boyish grin. “I need adventures.” The smile falters. “I’m only able to love him because he loved me first. He taught me how to love both of us.”

His cell rings, and his face lights up. It’s Max. With a nod and smile, Liam walks away as he murmurs into the phone. Silence as he listens.

“NO WAY am I bringing ANY of those murderous peacocks with me! I will swim to Portavira first!”

Drake Walker

Drake’s expression is introspective as he takes a long pull from his flask. After a long swallow, he swipes at his mouth with the back of hand as he sets the flask a little too loudly on the wooden tabletop.

“Maxwell Beaumont? So, we’re going there.” Drake rakes shaggy bangs off his forehead as he ponders what he can safely say in appreciation about Lord Beaumont.

He pulls a pack of cigarettes closer to him, his fingers pulling one out of the pack. He digs in his shirt pocket for a lighter. The pad of his thumb scrapes the spark wheel; the small flame briefly illuminates his stubbled jawline before it’s extinguished.

“My relationship with Beaumont is … complex. There’s a lot of moving parts.” He inhales deeply; when he speaks, his words mingle with bluish-gray smoke.

“I’ve been told I’m ungrateful, but what people fail to realize is I’ve been baptized in dirty water. Every break I’ve gotten, every blessing bestowed … it’s come with a price I had no choice but to pay. I don’t owe anyone here anything.”

The Commoner’s hands clench, his jaw tenses. “Beaumont … that bastard KNEW where my sister … the only family I had left in Cordonia … he knew where she was the entire time! I was going fucking INSANE trying to find her. He was there all those times when I was taunted and teased by Olivia as to Sav’s whereabouts. He KNEW where she was when Liam sent security to find her.”

Drake’s voice cracks. “And he never once said a word!”

Silence as he smokes his cigarette, plucking columns of dead cinders into a full ashtray. “Motherfucker,” he mumbles.

“Yet, I don’t hate him. I can’t. For all the bullshit he’s put me through, I can’t help but admire him for his loyalty to and friendship with Savannah. I’m grateful someone had her back and made sure she and Bartie were taken care of.

“And despite our stations in life, Beaumont is the one person I would say gets me. We’re both outsiders, for different reasons of course; we’re the slackers of the bunch …our jobs are being friends with a King, but I’m the one who gets the heat for it. Beaumont gets a pat on the back. And let’s face it, we’re both mooching and sucking at the tit of the Crown.

“The difference is, in exchange, he’ll give them a song and dance and a helluva party. And I give him crap for it. Me … I give ‘em the finger, and he defends me for it.”

Drake scoffs before shrugging his shoulders. “How can someone have your back and still stab you in it? I mean, what are you supposed to do with a guy like that? ”

He shakes his head before barking out a wry laugh. “I swear to God, me and Beaumont are a couple of half-assed orphans … we aren’t complete orphans because as much as they don’t have anything to do with us, we each have a surviving parent … and we’re just walking each other home.”

He pulls at the flask again. “It’s nice walking with him. Sometimes.”

Bertrand Beaumont

“The one question I am constantly asked is if Maxwell and I are really related. The unfortunate answer is yes,” the Duke of Ramsford says slowly as his eyes read over treaties and agreements. “We are blood brothers. Literally.”

Bertrand pauses to sign and seal an arrangement between the Duchy of Ramsford and the Isle of Crete for the import and export of wines between them. He places it in a stack of papers to be couriered to the Palace for final review and approval by the King.

“We have both suffered the consequences and effects of having Barthelemy Beaumont for a parent, but Maxwell definitely received the brunt of it. Nothing he did was ever good enough because in father’s eyes, Maxwell wasn’t good enough. As the second-born, father had little use for Maxwell, so he grew up with mother as his primary parent.

“I believe that is where my brother learned and honed his humor skills, and how he is able to see the potential and not the worst-case scenarios.” A small smile plays upon the noble’s lips. “Perhaps his fear of missing out as well. I believe people call it FOMO.”

Bertrand’s eyes mist over ever so slightly, and his voice takes on a faraway tone. “Maxwell was determined to spend every available minute with mother. He would awaken before the sun rose and sit outside our parents’ bedroom door, waiting for mother to step out. As a toddler, he rarely used the bathroom for fear of being parted from her; he once went 17 hours without relieving himself.

“He and mother would go for walks, they read to each other, they danced. From courtly waltzes to disco to American pop and rap … they danced and laughed and shared inside jokes. However, for as much as Maxwell loved mother, he was never a mama’s boy. He’s always had a bit of a rebellious streak that came to the forefront with her death.”

He glances at the vintage timepiece that sits on his desk, then returns his attention to another agreement. “I admit I haven’t been the best sibling to my brother, and that our relationship isn’t always the best it can be. It’s a clash of personalities, but the difference is, unlike father, I’m learning to listen to and attempt to understand Maxwell. All while struggling with my own FOMO.

“He had mother, who encouraged his dreams. I had father, who killed mine.”

The Duke’s lips purse in disapproval as he reads over another trade agreement. “I definitely got the worst end of that bargain.”

Duchess Savannah Walker-Beaumont

The Duchess stands in her kitchen, her hands and forearms deep in a mixture of raw meat, eggs, onions, peppers, and breadcrumbs; a whining Bartie tugs impatiently at her pant leg.

“Drake’s coming over for dinner, so we’re eating American tonight. Mom’s meatloaf,” she offers in explanation.

Savannah glances down at her son as her hands knead and combine the ingredients in an Amish Farmer bowl. “Mama’s gonna make you some lunch real soon, okay?”

The child nods slowly as his eyes dart suspiciously between his mother’s face and the bowl.

A soft smile curves Savannah’s lips as she speaks. “Max? I love Max. Not in the way I love his brother, but I definitely don’t love Max as a brother. It’s more than that, but not like that.” She laughs in embarrassment. “Quite sure that made absolutely no sense at all, but it’s hard to verbalize what Maxwell means to me.

“You know, growing up in the Palace, surrounded by Court, it’s easy to blend in. Get lost. I was lost.  Court didn’t know who I was. I was never Jackson’s daughter; merely Drake’s little sister. The guy who hated their guts was more well-known and well-liked than the person who actually wanted to be there!

“I was one of three things: an oversight, an annoyance, a joke. I had two friends at Court: Maxwell and Kiara. We were the misfits. They were the only ones who knew about me and Bertrand. When I got pregnant and Bertrand pushed me away, they were the ones who helped me plan to run away to Paris. Kiara gave me French lessons, not only speaking it but reading it as well. Max arranged for the travel and helped me find lodging.

“I know lots of folks think I just mooched off Max the entire pregnancy, but I landed a job quickly when I settled in Paris. I was a waitress, just like Riley, until I couldn’t work any longer. THAT is when Max stepped in with offerings of the financial kind. He insisted that Bert owed me and Bartie. I didn’t feel right taking the help, not with Bertrand not knowing, but Max insisted, saying a Beaumont always takes care of their obligations.”

She wipes and washes her hands before reaching inside the refrigerator for barbecue sauce and minced garlic. The mother looks quickly over at her son, who is now loudly banging pots against the floor. Savannah studies the contents of the fridge before pulling leftover chicken, peas, and sweet potato out for Bartie’s lunch.

“I never wanted to be a burden or have Bartie viewed as an obligation, but Lord knows the extra money was a godsend.” Her voice grows quiet. “Max is my guardian angel, even now. Drake has Liam, I have Max.”

The Duchess scoops her son in one arm, and the pot with her free hand; she places the pot on an eye of the stove before pointing to the leftovers, explaining to her son that will be lunch. He grins happily before planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She laughs as she rubs noses with him.

“You wanna call Uncle Max and invite him over for meatloaf?”

Barite nods enthusiastically. “Unca Mack, Unca Mack,” he chants.

She opens a box of animal crackers, handing Bartie one before they leave the room to fetch her cellphone.

Riam

“Oooooh, we’re talking about Maxwell?” the Queen asks eagerly as she joins her husband on the drawing room sofa.

Their three-month-old twin sons are napping, and the monarchs are enjoying a quick lunch during the downtime. Plates of food are strategically scattered along the cherrywood coffee table; the King picks up a plate with a double lamb burger laden with mayonnaise, gouda cheese, grilled onions, and mushrooms; French fries; and a sliced kosher dill pickle.

The Queen chews on a deep-fried, corn-battered chicken fritter before selecting a taco salad. She mixes rice, guacamole, beans, ground beef, and seasoned rice as she speaks.

“THAT mofo! Let me tell y’all about Lord Beaumont. The man can’t tell the whole truth to SAVE.HIS.LIFE! He’s been half-assing it with me from the very beginning! It started when he convinced me to come to Cordonia. Pack a bag, he said. Everything is covered, he said. It’ll be an adventure, he said.”

She pauses to eat several forkfuls of salad and steal some of her husband’s fries. “It was not ANYTHING he said it would be! I wasn’t noble, so I didn’t know a damned thing! Apparently Maxwell didn’t either, so thank GOD for Hana Lee! I didn’t have ball gowns and riding outfits, or the money to buy them! And let me add that suitors did not get a participation discount! I maxed out all my credit cards paying full price, which wasn’t hard because of the stupidly low limits on them.

“I ALMOST GOT KILLED ON MY WEDDING NIGHT! But, to give Max credit, dude can FIGHT! Like, he kicks ass! He beat Anton like that man owed him money. But back to bashing … that fool writes MY STORY, puts HIS picture on the cover of the book, and now he’s GETTING RICH off of me! While I’m sitting over here, a broke single mother with a poor credit score.”

She shakes her head. “I should take his ass to court and sue the pants off him because he owes me ALLLL the royalties, but I’ve heard rumors about him releasing his kraken. Liam wouldn’t want me to see that.”

King Liam stares at his wife for a brief moment; she has abandoned the taco salad for a plate of sliced grilled chicken, garlic pasta, and broccoli au gratin. He dabs at the corners of his mouth before talking.

“My wife is correct, I would not want her seeing any kracken, but I think Riley doesn’t have the complete picture of Lord Maxwell. He is sweet, kind, empathetic. He believes in fairytales and that no one is too old for them. Yes, he’s forgetful and excitable and can be a bit of a jester, but it all comes from a good place. He has good intentions.”

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” Riley interrupts around a mouthful of food. “And where was all this positivity when he dragged us along on his Hollywood tour?”

Liam mulls his answer as he pours a glass of iced tea.

“Maxwell is unused to attention. Once his mother died, he became an afterthought to his father, brother, and the majority of Court. Hierarchy plays a large role in how people are treated, especially within the upper echelons of society; Lord Maxwell is merely noble, not royal. He is second-born, not expected to ascend any higher than his current station.

“Also, he’s used to not being in the spotlight. Any questions directed to him can be fielded to Bertrand, the Duke. His biggest claim to fame before the book and film was being the architect of the Beaumont Bash and even that has to have final approval from Bertrand.

“Now, he’s the man of the hour. He’s the one with the answers. He’s the final approver. Understandably, it went to his head.”

“Are you defending him?” the Queen demanded. “When I am the reason anyone even knows his name? Who’s going to pay off those credit cards? HE OWES ME, Liam!”

“Riley, all your financial affairs were settled upon our engagement … three years ago!”

“Not by him, they weren’t!”

“Is this about your credit score, or settling a score with Lord Beaumont?”

The Queen’s eyes are narrow slits. “You don’t know me. At ALL.”

Lady Kiara Theron

“Agreeing to be Maxwells girlfriend is definitely a tally in the win column for me,” Lady Kiara Theron says happily as she steps onto the balcony of the Midtown Manhattan hotel.

The future Duchess is in New York City for a UN Junior Ambassadors event.

“He has taught me so much about letting loose and having fun. Before Max, life was all work and studies and culture. It was routine. But now, there’s freestyle dancing and late-night rides to nowhere and roller skating and all the things.

“There is a trade-off because we both believe in learning and teaching and growing. So, there are lessons and educational activities, but fun ones: cooking, languages, painting. Life with Maxwell Beaumont is something I never knew I needed, and I wonder what I ever did before him.”

The smile fades slowly from her face as she takes in the view from the 33rd floor, and her expression becomes pensive.

“When I think of all the time I spent pining after Drake Walker …”

She shakes her head.  “I think that’s something Max and I have in common. We were never seen by the folks we crushed on because we weren’t seen as threats. And I don’t mean in a dangerous, risky type of way.” She falls silent as she formulates her thoughts into words.

“Drake didn’t see me as someone who could capture his heart; I wasn’t romance material, not relationship material to him. I mean, I don’t know why … look at me!”

She spreads her arms wide and gives a little twirl, her hair flying against her face as she giggles.

“Same with Riley and Max. And when you aren’t perceived as a threat, you’re never seen as a contender.

“It makes sense now given who they eventually ended up with. Drake needs someone who’s going to meet him at his level. I can’t do that. If the best version of Kiara has to show up, the best version of you does too. Not the best you can do, the best version period.

“Riley wants the huge romantic overtures; the glitz and the glamour. Max isn’t an overt person in that way. One thing I’ve learned being with Maxwell is that love isn’t always butterflies and heart palpitations. It isn’t always loud. It’s small gestures and meaningful actions. I’ve discovered that like love finds like love.”

The smile is back on her lips and lights up her face. “Max and I found each other. What I love best about him is that he loves me, he loves himself, but he loves us the most.”

The hotel phone rings, and Kiara hurries inside to answer it. The conversation is quick and one-sided. After hanging up, she rummages in her purse for her wallet before pulling out currency.

“The greatest thing about being in a relationship with Max is, he insists we take time for self-care. One day a week, we spend apart doing whatever it is we need to do for ourselves. Be it errands, business-related matters, or just vegging out. It’s our day.

“Well, today is that day and I’m going to enjoy genuine New York pizza and watch that Netflix series he insists we watch together because my boyfriend is greedy and without fail, talks through movies and tv shows. Sometimes, no matter how deeply you love someone, you just need a whole pizza to yourself and uninterrupted entertainment.

“Don’t tell him that, though. He’ll get over the pizza, but not the Netflix.”

Maxwell Beaumont

“Folks are TALKING about me?? Is it bad? If it is, you can’t believe a word they say! Will it be in the tabloids? Are there pictures? Did they get my good side? I hope so.”

Tagging:   @jared2612 @ao719  @marietrinmimi @queenjilian @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020  @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet  @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @jovialyouthmusic @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @queenrileyrose @alj4890 @yourfavaquarius111 @motorcitymademadame @queenmiarys  @choicesficwriterscreations @burnsoslow @harleybeaumont @maxwell-beaumont-appreciation​

[trrvisuals]

Bad Romance Visuals

From Bad Romance and Bad Romance Continues

Fandom: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Riley and Max

Max with his collar

Drake in the baseball pants

Disney Adventure

Cordonian Royal Family

[angelasscribbles]

Dark Elf Chapter 5: Ensorcelled

Series: Dark Elf

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, maybe Riley x Drake

Word Count: 1,470

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Dark themes, mature themes

A/N: Hana, Maxwell, Drake, and Liam reflect on their feelings about the new woman in their lives.

My other stuff: Master List.

Hana Lee, the beautiful and quiet lady from Shanghai, made her way into the formal dining room on the arm of Rashad Faheem, one of her father’s business associates and a fixture at the Cordonian Royal Palace.

Her parents had sent her to Cordonia, her mother’s homeland, for the social season. Their objective was simple but clear. Find a husband. A suitable one.

One failed engagement behind her meant that her prospects were limited among her parent’s social circle. She hated her parents’ social circle. It was traditional, outdated, male-dominated, and suffocating.

She didn’t want a husband.

Ever.

Her eyes slid across the table to the woman by the side of the younger prince.

Riley Brooks was glowing as she laughed at something the king had said, her head tipped back, her laugh crystalline, her eyes sparkled with good humor, and her skin glowed with youth and good health. Lush, bistered locks cascaded down her back in riotous waves. The dress she was wearing was tight and revealing, putting her cleavage on full display as her chest heaved with laughter.

Hana’s eyes narrowed as Liam, shaking with laughter of his own, leaned his body toward Riley and covered her hand with his as his eyes lit upon her face.

Riley rewarded him with the briefest glance, but it was enough to suffuse the young man’s face with pleasure and anticipation.

Hana wondered about the nature of their personal relationship. She suppressed her annoyance as her own date pulled out a chair for her. She forced herself to give him a polite smile.

She must never let anyone suspect her true, most inner thoughts. She had her own objectives for being in Cordonia that had nothing to do with her parents’ mundane aspirations.

***

Maxwell Beaumont was concerned. He had summoned a demon and even though he had done it at the behest of his prince, the demon didn’t seem to care. She blamed him for trapping her and she blamed him for the enchanted cuff that suppressed most of her demonic powers.

It didn’t suppress the vampiric powers, something he was afraid Liam blamed him for, but honestly, how could he have known he was going to ensnare a demon that was part vampire? He’d never summoned one before. Demon summoning was frowned upon by the Sorcerer’s Guild and with good reason. It was unwise to draw the attention of a creature with almost unlimited powers. Especially creatures known to be cunning, ruthless, and fond of tormenting humans.

But her attention was focused on him now and he wasn’t sure he was going to survive it. His only solace was knowing that once the bargain they had struck was completed, he could banish her back to hell where she belonged.

Demons, like most creatures, could not travel between worlds at will and there were reasons that they had been shut off behind the dimensional doors between the mortal realm and the underworld. Reasons that were shrouded in antiquity, but he was absolutely certain that murdering humans was at the top of the list.  

***

Drake watched the unspoken interactions from his spot near the door. To all outside observers, he was just Liam’s crown shield, his sworn sword. Which wasn’t too far from the truth. Being a spell breaker was exactly the same, except instead of stepping in front of a sword or a bullet, he would throw himself in front of a spell for him.

Not like it was any hardship. Shifters were naturally immune to most forms of magic. The same spell that would harm or even kill Liam would bounce harmlessly off of him. And he owed his very life to the prince. He had no idea what else he would even do with his life if not this.

He hadn’t seen another shifter since coming to live at the palace when he was still a small child. Liam had rescued him after his mother’s death and the royal family had provided food and shelter ever since. His loyalty to them was not in question.

And yet his eyes kept roaming back to the woman that made his blood heat. He’d never felt the same kind of draw to a human woman, and he had no experience with females of his own species so the effect she had on him was a new and intriguing development.

He understood why she was there, and he understood what she was, at least in theory.   

He had received the same education Liam had and that included lessons with Rashad, the six-hundred-year-old elf that lived at the palace, sent there by Eleanor to teach Liam about the other half of his heritage.  

They had been taught that demons were never to be trusted. They were too powerful and too unpredictable.

But she seemed so nice. She smelled like heaven and her touch was electric. The smile she gave him when she caught him staring sent unfamiliar sensations cascading through his body. His fingers twitched at his side as he remembered what her skin felt like.

It had to be a trick. There must be something he was missing. He would have to be very, very careful around her.

***

Liam watched the woman at his side as they finished their dinner. She gave the perfect appearance of being a noblewoman. Her manners were impeccable, her sense of humor was charming, and her intelligence was obvious. No one suspected she was anything other than human. Not even his father.

Constantine knew what Liam was of course. But even Helena believed him to be her own human child. Leo had no idea his younger brother was part elf. Oh, the common people had their theories, but the nobility ignored his dark hair and dark eyes that were in such sharp contrast to his alleged parents. His looks were chalked up to an Auvernese ancestor.

But the common people whispered. They whispered about the ethereal glow that sometimes surrounded him. They whispered about the crows that followed wherever he went. They whispered about magic and the joining of two royal lines, one human, one elven. They whispered that it was this alliance that had blessed Cordonia, allowing it to flourish even when neighboring countries struggled with drought or flooding, or poor crop yield. Cordonia never suffered. Elven magic infused their fields and apple orchards, and the royal coffers were never emptied no matter how extravagantly their king lived.

Elves of old had been worshiped in this region as gods and with good reason. Their magic could turn the tides of wars, famine, and pestilence.  The sacred wood situated between the palace grounds and the Black Spire Mountains was home to a portal, a dimensional door. Part of the elven magic was the ability to cross such thresholds unimpeded. The fae had come and gone from Cordonia at will for as long as anyone could remember.

Liam Rys was not unsatisfied with his lot in life. Things could be a lot worse. He was a prince. He reaped all the benefits with little of the responsibilities. Born into two royal lines, he was heir to neither throne. He lived in a palace. He was wealthy. He was charming and handsome, and he always would be. He would never grow old, and sickness could not touch him. What more could he want?

Immortality for one. True immortality.

While he was immune to both age and disease, he could still be struck down by injury and that just wouldn’t do.

Which was why he had needed the demon. He just hadn’t expected the demon to look like her.  His studies had led him to believe that demons were hideous creatures with horns and red skin. Instead, what Maxwell had caught in his summoning circle was a voluptuous, breathtaking woman.

Or at least she looked like a woman. She certainly felt like one. She certainly kissed like one.

The bargain they had struck insured she would help him complete the ceremony that would bestow immortality upon him. If he played his cards right, he would bed her before the next full moon because once the spell was accomplished, the dampening cuff would fall off her arm and then all bets were off. Maxwell would do his best to banish her back to hell and Riley would do her best to exact vengeance on him for summoning and binding her in the first place.

He supposed he should feel responsible for that, but he didn’t. The younger Lord Beaumont had been paid handsomely for his services. He had not been coerced into providing them. The consequences were his own issue to contend with. Liam wanted just two things, immortality, and god help him, he wanted to know what it felt like when she sank her fangs into his neck.                                                        

[maxwell-beaumont-appreciation]

Maxwell Beaumont's Birthday!

Max cordially invites you to his birthday extravaganza! Please RSVP by submitting a fic, drabble, or artwork featuring Max's birthday!

We have placed Max's birthday as March 20th based on the premium scene in TRR book 2, chapter 12 where he says he could be either a Pieces or an Aries.

RULES:

All mediums accepted! Fanfiction, fan art, mood boards, HC's, whatever you've got!

Must be themed/centered around Max's birthday.

You must tag @maxwell-beaumont-appreciation

The deadline is 11:59 p.m. CST on March 19th, 2023.

Please reach out to this blog, @angelasscribbles or @harleybeaumont with any questions or suggestions!

[everythingchoices]

🤣🤣🤣

Max Bleaches his hair

A silly Maxwell drabble for @maxwell-beaumont-appreciation​ week

Day 1: Monday, January 23rd, Maxwell Appreciation Day: Appreciation and Headcanons! Tell us what you love about Maxwell, and/or tell us your headcanons. This can take the form of a fic that highlights it, artwork that depicts it, or even a simple list!

What do I love about Maxwell? The list is endless lol, but I’ll name a few things. I love his honesty, his playfulness, and how he is able to turn any situation into a good time. He loves with his whole heart and even though he doesn’t like confrontation, he defends those he cares about to the end. Maxwell Beaumont is unashamedly himself (unless he’s around Bertrand) and adorably naive to what others think about him.

Keep reading

[txemrn]

Déjà Vu

Chapter 2

New? Check out the first chapter HERE! (Go ahead; you're not late. Sure, we can wait.)

Series Summary: After an unforgettable night with a stranger, Princess Eleanor finds herself caught in a secret love triangle between a noble and a commoner.

Chapter Summary: Drake attends dinner at the palace, and even though some things will never change, he discovers quickly everyone has moved on without him.

Pairing(s): Liam x Riley; Bertrand x Savannah; Maxwell x m!OC; Olivia x Amalas

Word Count: ~4885

Warning: 🔞 Mature Audiences Only 🔞 language (like, a lot); references to infidelity, pregnancy; teasing/bullying

A/N: Welcome to my Crack Fic! If you are new, hi! Thank you for joining us! This story takes place approximately 2 decades after TRR/TRH. I have made some canonical changes (they will be mentioned). Characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry! This was not Beta'd; please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

Drake

The gentle purr of the engine beneath my grip of the steering wheel shoots pleasurable waves of pure octane ecstasy. My nerves ignite with palpable electricity, coursing through my every cell. The cream leather interior is like butter against my skin, and the scent of luxury leaves me completely intoxicated.

Lucky little shit.  

I still can't believe my nephew–my fucking nephew–owns this beauty. How many twenty-four-year-olds own an Aston Martin Vantage convertible? I wish I could give him more shit about it, coming from such privilege as being the oldest son of a duke, but Bartie has more than earned it. 

He may not have exactly been planned, but he was the answer, and essentially the savior, of Ramsford. Back when I lived in this God-forsaken country, some twenty-odd years ago, Ramsford was in financial ruin. My brother-in-law, Bertrand, Bartie's father, scraped, scrapped and pinched every monetary morsel to keep them afloat for years.

Then along came Bartie: finished the top of his class at some preppy private institute at Stormholt with a degree in finance, and in just three fucking years of working with his dad… well, that little shit has an Aston. 

I'm actually very proud of him. Surely he knows that. We weren't much for talking over the years, but I'd send cards telling him I loved him, and I'd ask about him during video calls with my sister.

Judging that I am sitting in his custom-painted cherry-red luxury car right now? Yeah, Bartie knows I care the world about him. The fact that he's going to allow me to drive it? Fuck, I don't think I even trust myself, especially on these European roadways. Sure, I learned how to drive in Cordonia, but that was over two decades ago. And it wasn't a stickshift.

Can't be that hard, right?

I study the mechanism of the gear shift, comparing it to a quick Google search on my phone as I wait for my nephew to return to the car with a necktie–my suggestion.  Afterall, we're heading to dinner with the royal family… A.K.A. my childhood best friend, his daughter. And his wife.

The love of my life.

Eh, don't feel sorry for me. I'm over it. Seriously. And besides, technically, Liam had first dibs on her; but then again, he had first dibs on several other women at the exact same time, social season and all for his highness, the fucking crown prince of Cordonia. Whoop-de-do.

He's the one that asked me to look after his hot American suitor during his own personal season of The Bachelor. Are you really surprised I fell for the chick? The guy was never around. And Riley and me? She... she was fun, smart. She was fucking hilarious, gave those noble bitches a real run for their money. And yet, she was still kind and caring. She was easy to talk to; I found myself opening up to her in ways that… well, no one else could. 

Riley Brooks. I guess you could say she's the reason I never settled down with anyone. No one–and I mean no one–ever measured up. 

Oh well. That was a long time ago. And she made her decision. Him. And even though he was like the brother I never had, I… I couldn't. I just couldn't sit back and watch them play house and build a life together. Well, for Liam, it was real. 

I had fallen for her. But so had Liam. I knew that if I stayed–if I had stayed, the secret of Riley and me wouldn't end. Shit, if it didn’t end after they said, "I do," when would it?

Time heals all wounds, right?

Bartie opens the door, and slides into the passenger seat with two neckties in hand, both black as he holds them up to his crisp white oxford. "What do you think?"

"Think about what? The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost? You look like a fucking mormon," I jest as I point to the one with a subtle matte paisley design. "Why are you fussing about this anyway?"

"Just cause," he passively offers as he stares in the visor mirror, knotting his tie. "I'm speaking with King Liam privately after dinner, and… well, I just want to look alright."

Sensing his raw nerves, I pause for a moment, watching him fidget anxiously with the garment. Jesus, when did my baby nephew become a fucking man?  I smile, placing my calloused fingers on his shoulder. "You do, kid." I fasten my seat belt as I turn my attention to the dash. "So, how do I put this thing into drive?"

------

It’s surreal walking into the palace after so many years away. White marble floors. Crimson curtains with gold accents.  Childhood memories flood my mind of our sword battles on the grand staircase, pretending to be blood-thirsty pirates. Or when we would gallop through the secret labyrinth of corridors deep within the estate, charging on our make-believe stallions like mighty Spanish conquistadors. 

We would always sneak to the kitchen between meals to taste the desserts being made for dinner–unless Ms. Marta was working. That fucking old hag. Most of my ass whoopings were from her tattling on us. 

Liam was a fucking weirdo on our kitchen raids.  We would slip through the window of the bakehouse, and when we would confirm that the coast was clear, he would always head straight for the pantry to a bag of pistachios. We're talking about a place that had every sweet, every chocolate, every cookie imaginable, readily available in sealed containers. And he chose nuts. 

I always had my eyes on a nightly staple in the palace: warm apple pie. They were made daily, and I could always find at least one cooling on the window sill. 

Fuck, now I'm salivating over a fucking pie.  

To this day, I humbly have to admit that Cordonia apple pies are the best–don't let the taste of a raw ruby fool you. Something about the bitter compounds reaching a certain temperature causes… something-something to do something… ah, hell. Tell you what. If you're that curious, ask Liam. I mean, I'm assuming he's still a nerd–

"Drake!" 

I startle at the greeting, instantly recognizing the tall, broad-shouldered blond striding closer to me, wearing… an apron? The fuck? The apron has the phrase, 'I love you a bushel and a peck'.

Oh, yeah. He's still a fucking dweeb. 

His outstretched hand takes mine as he shakes it before pulling me into an embrace. "It's so good to see you, old friend," he pats my back before standing back to take me in.

He looks so different, but undoubtedly, he still looks like Liam Rys. Stray pieces of silver litter his perfectly styled, perfectly placed waves. His strong jawline and high cheekbones were cut more razor-sharp by his more mature, thinned face. His strong chest and the swell of his biceps made him look like a fucking Greek god. Lucky bastard. It's like turning forty didn't wreak havoc on his appearance or metabolism, save for a few fine lines around his eyes and smile.

"Bartie," Liam smiles endearingly, "always a pleasure." He extends his arm to my nephew before the scared kid had a chance to bow. I could see the flood of panic in Bartie’s eyes, but I gave him a reassuring nod as he hesitantly took his majesty's hand.

Don't worry, kid. I won't tell your daddy about your ‘poor manners’.

"Please," Liam rests his hand on my shoulder while turning to guide us to the queen's hall, the largest dining area in the palace for private parties. The room boasted an impressive, custom eight-meter-long table that could easily fit twenty-five guests comfortably. "Come, come. Everyone is just being seated." We follow him down the east corridor when suddenly, the savory aroma of roast and… something garlicky teases my senses. Liam obviously caught the delicious waft too, turning back with a devious grin. "I hope you brought some hearty appetites. Riley and I have something special for you tonight."

Riley. Why does the mere mention of her name make me–shit. Get it together, Walker. You're over it.

As expected, my closest friends during my time in Cordonia are all present along with their families. Well, 'friends' might be too strong of a word to use on this crowd. They were nobles and friends of Liam. I was friends with Liam. Ergo, we were friends. Sorta. 

My sister Savannah and her husband Bertrand were sitting at the end towards my right, speaking in hushed tones to one another. They came separately from Bartie and myself from their estate since, well, there wasn't enough room for them and the triplets. Yes. You read right. Triplets. As in three babies at once. They had tried for years to have more children with sadly no avail, and it took a terrible toll on their marriage. I still remember Sav's tearful call five years ago, revealing to me that they were separating. I was preparing to hop on a plane to execute my brother-in-law's accidental demise for breaking my little sister's heart when I got a second call a few weeks later. They were pregnant. I got a call a week after that. I had three nieces on the way.  Sydnie, Stella and Simone: the cutest little shits you've ever seen… and not just because they have their uncle's dashing good looks. 

I'm talking about me, their uncle. Not their other uncle.

Maxwell Beaumont–said other uncle– was sitting next to his brother Bertrand. He officially married Baron Friedrich von Lehndorff twelve years ago when Cordonia overturned their marriage clause of traditional unions. One hundred forty-eight same-gender couples came forward that day to be legally married; Max and Rich led the way to the Capitol. They became a beacon of light and love, not just for Cordonia, but to the world. I remember reading about their march for equality and their victory in my local paper. Maxwell and I weren't necessarily best friends, but a sense of pride bloomed in my chest, seeing him do something so incredible and bold with his life.  

He and Rich have a 9-year-old daughter Gia and 4-year-old son Ollie, both adopted from South Korea. Don't tell them I told you, but I follow their TikTok. Those two are fucking adorable.

Across from the Beaumont-von Lehndorffs is the Scarlet Duchess herself. Olivia Nevrakis. And… I almost can't believe the sight myself–

"Hey, Walker!" She waves, a smile growing on her face.

What. The. Fuck. Was she… happy to see me?

She stands up and makes her way around the table of guests to greet me. 

With a hug.

Shock number two: she’s touching me in a friendly manner. But that's when I was hit with shock number three.

Is she? No, no… she can't be. Is that a–?

She must've seen the curiosity etching across my face as I stared down at a rounded abdomen that just pressed up against me during our embrace. She instinctively cradles her belly and giggles.

Giggles. 

Was I in the Twilight Zone?

She married Amalas a few years after I moved away. I wasn't surprised; the few times Livvy and I hooked up felt odd, like something was missing. I mean, not that I didn't satisfy her. That was never a problem for me with women. Turns out, ol' red was looking for a queen. 

Together they serve as queen and queen consort of Monterisso, and apparently are known for creating quite a riot at international events. I'm not surprised. They have four children: Macaela–Amalas’s daughter with her late husband–Josefine, Joaquin, and Joseph.  And then baby Timothy will be joining them soon. Because that name makes sense.

I'm starting to feel a little self-conscious. It's been over twenty years, and everyone seems to have grown up. Had families. Changed the world. And what did I have to show? Nothing. I mean, I did have quite a successful construction company that I developed with almost seventy employees under my leadership, but… well, that went under thanks to my business partner fucking me over. Fucking twat-waffle. 

But is this really what my life comes down to? Is this how you would sum up my life? Compared to childhood friends, I was still nothing. And here I was again on the coattails of Liam.

An abrupt delicate tink to a wine glass echoes over the various conversations and children squealing, silencing everyone as we turn our attention to the head of the table. 

And there she was. Just as breathtaking as the last day that I saw her.

"Drake," she gasps as I pull her into the dark shadows behind the barn. "We can't. Not anymore." 

I shake my head, her eyes refusing to meet mine. I took a step towards her, but she instinctively shifts, her back pressing against the wall.

"Brooks–"

"Rys," she interjects, the correction like a serrated blade piercing my skin. A sob escapes her as rivers course down the planes of her velvet skin.

Placing my arm against the splintered wood next to her head, I lean closer to her, capturing her intoxicating scent. My hand slips up her neck, my fingers tenderly lifting her chin to look at me, to captivate me with those ocean eyes.

My thumb caresses her rosy lips, feeling her breath hitch. I flutter my mouth across her wet cheeks, my feather touch kissing away her tears.

But we suddenly freeze.

"Riley?"

Liam's smooth voice carries over the moonlit pasture, drowning out our abilities to hear the bustle of the reception.

"Riley…Don't–"

But it's too late. Before I could stop her, she was gone.

I blink. Casually shifting in my seat, I glance nonchalantly around me. Whew, everyone is still staring at the head of the table. No one seems to notice that I got lost in my thoughts for a moment.  I nervously scratch through my stubble before grabbing the water glass in front of me. I take a longass sip of water, but when I pull the glass from my mouth, two crystal-blue orbs with long, flirty lashes are locked on me.

Fuck, I choke on the water on my attempt to swallow it down. I start coughing violently as Maxwell starts patting my back.

"You okay there, Drakey?"

I finally take a gulp of air, and glare at him. "Yes… and it's Drake, Maxi pad." Okay. I admit it. It was childish to retaliate by calling him the name me and some of the other guys called Maxwell growing up. But to my surprise, he laughs before finger-gunning me.

"Good one, Drake. I haven't heard that in years."

I turn back to our royal hosts just in time for Liam to give me a friendly nod, as if to ensure that I'm okay without creating more of a scene. But when I glance over at Riley, she quickly averts her eyes, slipping her hand into Liam's. 

Jesus Christ. If that was a sign of how things were going to be, her cowering and treating me like I'm some kind of criminal for something she did willingly… something she pursued… fuck that. Send me back to Texas.

"We brought wine!" Rich singsongs, pulling out two large bottles from a nearby refrigerated wine rack. "Who'd like–?"

I refused to let the poor bastard finish.

"Me."

------

I can't remember a single time in my life where I have been so positively and exuberantly grateful for Maxwell fucking Beaumont. He fended off the anticipated awkwardness and helped the dinner conversation progress, making the casual assist to include me in this special meal that was supposedly in my honor. 

I'm not saying the others were rude to me, Liam especially. He was treating me like a long lost brother, like the prodigal son that has finally returned home. And I'm not going to lie: it felt good to be reunited with him.

But Riley couldn't even look me in the eye, and judging by the flashes of guilt and her over-eagerness to leave the room every chance she got, I know she never told her husband the truth about our relationship.  He had his suspicions. And I owned up to falling for her, thus the ending of our friendship and me moving to Texas. I mean, I thought it was the end…

But, I didn't just fall for her; it wasn't pining for her from afar, hoping she would give me the time of day.

We were in love.

"This was absolutely divine," Savannah sings praises, taking a sip of her tea. Everyone begins chiming in with their sentiments, thanking the royal couple for the delicious meal. Yes, they prepared it. I know; I was impressed myself.

Individual conversations continue through dessert and coffee when suddenly, the ring of a phone interrupts us into silence.

"Excuse me," Amalas whispers with the phone against her ear, "I need to take this. It's Josie."

Liam and Riley flash looks of concern at one another. "I hope everything is okay," Riley says softly as she twirls her necklace between her fingers, turning to her husband with a more hushed tone. "Did Ellie text you?"

Liam is already looking at his phone, but he's casually shaking his head, appearing more relaxed than his wife. His gaze catches my curious look as I try to put the pieces together of what's going on this evening.

"Josie–err, Josefine–is out with our Eleanor and Madeleine's daughter Bethany this evening." 

Ah, that's right… Josefine must go by Josie, Amalas’s second daughter, her first daughter with Olivia. Shit, I can’t keep these spawn straight….

"Crisis averted!" Amalas sweeps back into the room, placing her cell into her pocket. "The girls said the restaurant was too crowded, so they're going over to the Vancoeur's for a–" she imitates an American valley girl, "girls' night."

"Vancoeur?" I mutter, turning to Maxwell. "Did he… reproduce, too?" The idea sounded ridiculous. What woman lowered her standards that low to sleep with that bastard?

"Yep," Maxwell responds, "he has a beautiful daughter." He takes an obnoxious sip of his espresso. "You know, Bethany, the girl that's out with Eleanor and Josie."

No. Fucking. Way.

"I thought Beth was Madeleine's kid?"

"It is." Maxwell chuckles as mischief glows in his eyes. "Oh Drakey, you missed it. Maddie and Neville were actually married for about ten years." Pulling a napkin up to his mouth, he lowers his voice. "Rumor has it she was about to lose what was left of her inheritance, slept with that weasel, then faked a pregnancy to get him to propose." He snickers. "I wish I could've been a fly on the wall when her fake pregnancy turned out to be a real pregnancy."

"What the–?"

"Mhrmm," Maxwell bounces his eyebrows, "she claims she had no idea." He stares at me intently before rolling his eyes and gesturing with his hand a dramatically large curve over his stomach. “Agnes, my seamstress–can you believe she’s still working for us? Well, anyway, that woman can work absolute miracles…” He takes another sip of his drink.  He quiets his voice while he averts his eyes, slowly crossing his legs. “There was no hiding that bump.”

I shake my head in disbelief, chuckling under my breath when suddenly, I feel a large hand on my shoulder. I whip around quickly, pulling my body away, when I see–

"Shit, Li–"

"I didn't mean to interrupt," he offers a friendly smile.

I blow away the air I had quickly sucked in, willing my heartbeat to slow down. I guess I'm still a little on edge being here, but fuck, that scared me.

"I thought before you left tonight, we could discuss, um… arrangements. For you."

"Yeah… yeah, of course." Following his lead, we start to make our way to the exit for privacy.

When Liam invited me to Cordonia, he was very specific that he wanted to help me get back on my feet. And I believe him. I know his generosity is genuine; he doesn't have any ulterior motives or some secret vendetta against me from the past. At least I hope he doesn't. But this isn't a vacation for me; part of the deal was I needed to work. I'm not sure if that meant finding temp jobs or something more long-term. 

“Do I smell imported cheap whiskey?”

I stop short of the door.

Fuck me. Leo Rys. Liam’s older brother and notorious international womanizer. The man just turned fifty last year, and it’s like he unlocked a new group of admirers, especially now that he’s sportin’ a little silver around the edges these days. 

He and Liam are complete polar opposites. Apples and oranges. Night and day. If Liam was thoughtful and selfless… well, you get the gist. And clearly by his entrance, I’m discovering that some things never change.

As if his deep bellow wasn’t warning enough, his black leather boots announce his presence as he struts across the polished tile, his arm hooked around his helmet. He slaps his free hand on my shoulder, squeezing it firmly as he obnoxiously sniffs me.

"Cheap whiskey… and… is that a hint of beef jerky and cow patties I'm detecting?"

"Good to see you, too." Jackass. I slap his chest before pushing him off of me. I may have used a little more force than I should've. My bad. 

"Am I late for dinner?" He slaps Liam on the back before walking towards the kitchen.

Liam sighs. "Just… a little–"

"Ahh, don't worry," he stops to kiss Riley on the cheek. "I'll serve myself."

As Leo disappears, Liam and I give each other a knowing look before leaving the room as well.

------

"Trust me, you're going to love what Riley has done with the guest quarters."

Liam and I had a good talk. A really good talk. We didn't have to say it, but it was clear: we missed each other. We missed our camaraderie, the confidence we had in one another. He was the first person I called when Dad died; I was the first person he called when Leo abdicated. We grew up and became men together.

But then Riley Brooks happened… but, I'm guessing you know that by now.

Liam has already a number of jobs for me to sift through, several carefully picked out that would play to my strengths with architecture and construction. But since these jobs were either on the grounds or here locally in the Capitol, he insisted I move into one of the private guest quarters with its own private entrance and balcony.

'You don't need to be making that drive from Ramsford everyday.' He's right. It's quite the journey, not to mention I don't exactly have a vehicle of my own here. So, I'm back in the palace. Ain't life a bitch?

"Now I hope you don't mind all-electric. The gas lines and how they were designed don’t–"

"Beggars can't be choosers, love."

Her words are like ice, the sharp chill making even her husband shudder. 

"Riley–"

"What?" She giggles under her breath. "I was joking." She turns a venomous stare towards me. "Drake knows I'm kidding. Don't you, Drake?"

I clear my throat. "Yeah," I play along, "good one."

"Love?" She slips her hand around Liam's arm, lowering her voice into a whisper. "Bartie Beaumont has requested to speak with you privately."

"Oh!" Liam brightens. "Sure. Of course." He gives me a pleasant nod. "Excuse me, Drake. And, please. Feel free to look around."  He begins to make his way towards the dining area, Riley following in step behind with no acknowledgement to me.

I breathe a sigh of relief. I needed a moment to myself anyway.

"Actually," Liam turns on his heel, waving a finger in the air. "On second thought, Love?" He smiles lovingly towards Riley, placing his hands affectionately on her shoulders. "How about you go show Drake the renovations you made?"

Shit.

------

Riley barely spoke two words to me besides pointing to the obvious fixtures and control buttons in the guest suite.

Light... Refrigerator… Bathroom… 

"This, uh, looks really nice," I try to converse, combing my fingers through my hair. "I never thought I'd see the day this room would have a–"

"We don't have to do this." She walks out of the room and into another part of the suite.

Why was she being such a frigid bitch? 

Fuck, I need a smoke.

I take a deep breath, shoving my hands in my pockets as I stroll back out into the hallway of the apartment.

"Is there anything else you needed to see?" She swallows thickly. She tries to remain stoic with a stiff bottom lip. Her jaw ticks… but her glare betrays her as something else brews that I … can’t quite discern.

But then, without warning, Riley's eyes roam down my body, catching on the crotch of my khakis before returning to my face.

Eyes up here, your majesty.

She clears her throat, pretending I didn't just catch her checking me out. "Um, anything else you wanted to see… of the suite, that is? Because, uh, we should probably –" she shuffles backwards, pointing aimlessly behind her, towards the door.

"You go on ahead," I tell her. "I'm gonna check out the balcony if you don't mind."

A heated swirl of rouge ignites on Riley’s cheeks. She nods, turning on her heel quickly without saying a word, and exits the apartment in record time. 

Thank God. I don't know what just happened, but… this is a very interesting turn of events. Does she still have feelings for me?

No. Stop.

Shit. Maybe moving in is a mistake.

I make my way outside, and damn. The view from this balcony is stunning. It actually overlooks the Cordonia countryside, which means less lights from the city and plenty of stars to be seen at night. It's... actually a nice reminder of home.

Taking a seat on the balustrade, I pull out a cigarette and nestle it between my teeth as I search for my lighter. I pat my pockets, both in the back and front of my pants before checking my shirt.

Shit. Can the universe just pass me a fucking bone?

I slump over, resting my elbows on my knees. Holding my hands in front of me, I begin to pick at my calluses as the events of the evening replay like a movie reel in my head.

But suddenly, there's a snick, then a spark; then a single flame is held in front of me. Fishing my cigarette out from behind my ear, I fix it between my lips and lean into the fire. I pull heavily, deeply until the familiar burn touches my anxious nerves, and I blow away my initial puff.

"You know smoking can kill you."

I raise an eyebrow at the deep voice, taking another inhale before blowing it in Leo's face.

"Malaka."

I chuckle at his insult, watching that smug grin pull out his own cigarette to light. He leans against the side of the balcony before hoisting himself up onto the balustrade.

"So," he licks his lips, looking at me inquisitively. "How does it feel to be back in lovely Cordonia?"

I look at him, scrunching my face. Really? That's the best you can do? I look back down, flicking some ash on the ground.

"How does it feel–" he blows smoke over his shoulder, "--being back close to Riley?"

My head shot up.

"Ohhh," he snickers, "that got Walker's attention really fast."

How the fuck does Leo know? How the fuck does Leo know anything? I can feel my heart begin to pound, my eyebrows furrowing in anger.

"Now hold up, Walker," he holds up his hands in defense. "I come in peace. I don't care that you fucked my sister-in-law once upon a time… okay, fine. Maybe just a little–"

"What do you want, Leo?"  I interrupt, irritation baited in my voice.

He looks down fidgeting with his fingers.  When he turns back to me, he has an indiscernible expression on his face, as if a wave of vulnerability is crashing over him.

"I know it can be… challenging, you know? Moving back to Cordonia after a hiatus, and I figured tonight was probably a lot for you."

And now Leo is trying to have a heart-to-heart with me… What the fuck happened to these people while I was gone?

"I thought maybe… you could use a friend."

"Well," I stand up, taking a step away. "Thanks. I appreciate it–"

"I mean it," he holds a hand to his chest. "Say–" he jumps to his feet, sandwiching himself between me and the door. "What are you doing tonight?"

Besides leading the exciting life of letting my nephew drive me back to his parent's house, eating a bag of Doritos in my boxers and getting shit-faced?

"There's a new club opening in town tonight. Tons of people. Who's who. VIP–" 

"Thanks, but–"  I try to shove past him, but he stops me, putting his hands against my chest.

"Six full bars, and–" he wiggles his eyebrows. "Lots… and lots… of fresh Cordonian-grade pussy. How do you like them apples?"

Like I said, some things never change.

"C’mon, Walker… you in?"

~🖤~

Tags (Please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed)

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------

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

[angelasreblogs]

Body of Work

Just a place to organize all my sundry blogs and fanfics.

Fanfiction:

TRR fanfiction.

RoD fanfiction.

RC fanfiction.

Blogs:

Angela's Scribbles

TRR Visuals

Law's End

Cordonia Royal Airlines

Choices Prompts

Choices Holidays

Maxwell Beaumont Appreciation

Drake Walker Appreciation

Word Warriors

[maxwell-pls]

Anonymous fic: Maxwell develops telepathy

Did you say something? (Maxwell Beaumont)

Summary: After a regular night out with his friends (and having a little too much to drink), Maxwell Beaumont awakes the following morning to the discovery he has developed telepathic powers!

Word count: 2746

Author’s note: Thank you, anon, for giving me this silly yet intriguing fic idea! I had fun writing this and I hope you have a fun time reading it. :) This is an AU which takes place sometime after MC (Farrah) tells Liam she has fallen for Maxwell and wishes to be with him instead. Also, this is kind of long bc it is only going to be ONE part! If anyone else has a fic suggestion shoot me an ask!

—

I’m tired of having to carry this house on my back. “Maxwell, get up.”

Maxwell stirred slightly, head pounding, not wanting to move. You’ve got to be kidding me, why is he so difficult. He felt someone shake him which caused him to finally open his eyes to see his brother, Bertrand, standing over him. Shielding his eyes from the morning light, Maxwell noticed his brother’s angry face.

“Whose being difficult, Bartie?” Maxwell asked, reaching a hand over to search his nightstand for medication, anything to relieve him of his pain. Bertrand shook his head at his younger brother.

“Pardon me?”

Maxwell finally found a pill bottle and checked the label, headache relief, perfect. “You said something about someone always being difficult?” He swallowed two pills. Bertrand looked slightly taken aback.

“I..said no such thing.” Maxwell noticed his brother look around, seeming slightly more tense than usual. “Now get up, and do not think I am afraid to pull you out of that bed myself.” And with that, Bertrand turned a heel and started to head out the door. I wish he would grow up.

“I can still hear you, you know!” Maxwell called after his brother who either must not have heard him, or, to no surprise, chose not to respond.

After pulling himself out of bed, into the shower, and then into a clean set of his usual clothes, Maxwell continued on with his day. His headache seemed to have subsided for the most part, all that was left was a slight, dull ache. On his way to find his friends, he started to notice the house workers talking aloud more than usual.

I hope my husband likes this shirt I bought him.

My parents seem to be fighting more than usual, are they going to get a divorce?

Here comes Maxwell. Look at him in those jeans, they really show off his tight as—

Maxwell spun around quickly to face a short female scullery maid who looked up with a crooked smile. If she is standing alone, who was she talking to? “That’s...not a very appropriate thing to say in a workplace.” He said quietly. The woman’s expression turned to one more confused.

“I didn’t say anything, Mr. Beaumont..?” Maxwell let out a sigh.

“It’s okay you don’t have to lie, these jeans do look good on me. Just maybe next time keep your thoughts to yourself...” Once again the woman’s expression changed, this time to pure shock. Maxwell didn’t wait for a response before turning back around and hurrying to his destination. He came into the dining room where his friends sat, immersed in conversation. Drake looked up and noticed as he walked in.

“Oh look, he finally wakes.” His tone was neutral just as his expression was, just how it always is. Maxwell didn’t notice as he smiled largely. “You guys will never believe what I just heard this chick say about me!” He quickly sat down at the head of the table and began to recount what he heard the man say.

I can’t tell if he’s making this up or not. Maxwell quickly looked to Liam. “I couldn’t make this up if I wanted to!”

Liam let out a small chuckle. “Wow Maxwell, it’s almost as though you read my mind.” Maxwell brushed this comment off as he noticed Farrah smiling at him.

He’s just so cute when he tells these bizarre stories. The way his smile lights up any room he walks into…Maxwell grabbed his girlfriend’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I love the way your smile looks too.” He kissed her on the cheek, not noticing her slightly widened eyes.

As the group spent the morning chatting and eating breakfast, Maxwell began noticing more and more everyone claiming they aren’t saying things he clearly heard them say. Olivia denied ever saying Drake’s hair looks like a mop, Hana denied saying Liam smiles too much, and Farrah denied saying Penelope talks about her dogs too much. He was confused why his friends would say such things and then lie about it, except it was especially weird because everyone else also said they never heard then saying it. Why is it he is hearing things people aren’t even saying? It’s almost as if…

W A I T. Maxwell’s aching mind started connecting the dots. ‘It’s almost as though you read my mind.’ Liam’s words rang in the back of his mind. What if he did read Liam’s mind? “Oh. My. God.” Maxwell shot straight up out of his chair, it falling onto the floor due to the momentum. Everyone’s conversations abruptly stopped as they stared at him, stunned.

What is this idiot on about now. Olivia’s words rang through his head but he noticed no one looked at her, no one acknowledged she even said anything. Holy crap! I can read minds! Maxwell’s own thoughts shielded him from hearing his friends’. He yearned to yell his new found powers from the rooftops.

But he didn’t.

He looked onward to his friends and realized no one was going to believe him. They would all think he was joking and just ‘being Maxwell’. Well all of them except maybe—

“Maxwell, are you okay…” His eyes landed on Farrah who was also standing up now, her hand gently touched his arm. What is going on with him? He grabbed her hand with his own and pulled her toward the door.

“I HAVE TO TALK TO FARRAH ALONE, NO ONE FOLLOW US! IT'S SUPER IMPORTANT AND TOP SECRET!” Ew, why do you have to announce it... He heard someone’s thoughts as they exited the room. His hand pulled her along as they rushed up the stairs to his quarters. He nudged her inside then looked down both ways of the hall before closing the door and turning the locks. He turned around, out of breath. “Farrah, you’ll never guess—”

She was hastily taking her clothes off, a seductive smile spread across her face. “Farrah, no!” He rushed forward and started pulling her clothes back on. Wait what? She looked up at him, stunned and confused. “That’s not why I brought you in here! As much as I love having sex with you, there is a wildly more important topic to discuss right now!”

Farrah crossed her arms angrily over her now covered chest. “Well, what is it then?” She tapped her foot. I can’t believe he just said no to having sex, he has never said no to having sex.

“I have to said no to having sex, remember that one time when Sir Wigglesworth was watching! I couldn’t do it in front of his innocent corgi eyes!” Maxwell responded to what he now understood were her thoughts. Farrah let out a quiet gasp and took a step backwards.

“How did you..?” She looked at him, completely stunned.

Maxwell stepped towards her, his hands held slightly in the air. “Farrah, I can read minds!”

For a second she was silent before she let a much louder gasp. “WHAT THE FU—” Her words were stopped by Maxwell’s hand covering her mouth.

“Shhh!” He shushed her and peered towards the door behind him. She licked his hand and he pulled it away. “Ew!”

“Maxwell Percival Beaumont, you cannot read minds!” Farrah let out a huff.

“Yes I can!”

“No you can’t, that’s not possible!”

“I can and I’ll prove it to you.” Farrah’s eyes narrowed at him, his eyebrows raised back at her.

“Fine.” Where did we first meet?

Maxwell smiled at her softly. “New York. You were waiting tables where we went for Liam’s bachelor party.” Farrah mouth fell open. I’m thinking of the number 13,491. “13,491.” Green. “Green.” You’re freaking me out. “I’m freaking you out.” Maxwell’s eyebrows raised once again as she held a hand to her still open mouth.

...

“DUDE.” Farrah’s open mouth turned to a giant smile. “My boyfriend is a superhero!” She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a sloppy kiss.

“I’m a superhero!” Maxwell excitedly said back as their lips separated.

Farrah pulled away from him. “How did this happen? Can you only read minds?” She gasped. “Can you also do the thing Professor X does where he can talk to people in their minds!”

“I don’t know and I don’t know!” Maxwell smiled widely at her nerdy X-Men reference. “Let’s find out!”

They both stared hard into each other’s eyes, Farrah thinking up a question. What’s your favorite thing about me? He concentrated really hard, attempting to send his thoughts to her.

Your boobs.

She playfully hit him on his arm. “Maxwell!” He let out a chuckle as her voice almost cracked.

“I’m kidding, everything!” My favorite part about you is everything. She smiled at him once more.

“You sap.” She blushed as he stroked her cheek slowly.

“Only for you.” His expression quickly changed back to excitement. “Do you want to go freak everyone else out!”

“Is that even a question?!” This time she was the one who grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room.

Everyone had moved from the dining room to the sitting area, and Bertrand had joined them, they looked up as the couple came into the room. “Hi, guys!” Farrah waved, Maxwell gave his usual silly grin. Why are they both always so giddy. Olivia rolled her eyes.

Hana smiled at the two of them. “Where did you run off to?”

“Oh you know, we were off being our usual giddy selves.” Maxwell draped an arm around Farrah and gave Olivia a wink. She did not seem as satisfied with the interaction.

“How—” Olivia’s words were interrupted by Bertrand.

“Who cares what they were doing, what matters is they are here now. It’s time we can discuss the social gathering we are to host tomorrow evening.” His posture straightened. Please say Maxwell remember’s how important it is…

Maxwell clapped his hands together. “Of course, dear brother! For I always remember how important our bashes are for the Beaumont family!” For the first time ever Bertrand actually looked at a loss for words.

I must ask if my dogs can attend!

“Penelope!” Maxwell turned straight to her. “The Beaumonts, as well as Sir Wigglesworth, would be extremely glad if your dogs could attend!” He gave her a big smile and she nodded slowly back at him.

Did you see the look on her face! Maxwell heard Farrah’s thought and turned to smile at her before sending one back to her. Yes! This is amazing! Farrah quickly returned his smile.

I wish she still smiled at me like that…Maxwell’s eyes snapped to Liam who was staring at Farrah. His eyebrows lowered and he angrily sent a thought out without realizing. Hey, man cut it out! Liam’s mouth fell slightly open.

Great, now my conscience is manifesting as Maxwell as if I don’t already feel guilty about my feelings.

It’s not your conscience it’s me! Maxwell raised a hand and waved at Liam, who looked at him and had an expression of mortification. Yeah that’s right I can hear your thoughts!

But...how?

I don’t know how! But I can! So keep your thoughts to...no one! Because I can hear them even if you keep them to yourself. Maxwell gave him an angry expression, he never usually got jealous, but it was Liam. The actual king. He’s handsome AND kind, who wouldn’t want him?

Maxwell saw Liam seemed more sad, instead of thinking them, he mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’

“It’s alright..” Maxwell said out loud with a sigh.

“What’s alright?” Hana asked him. Maxwell looked up and noticed the group all staring at him. Did I just say that out loud?

“Umm..” Maxwell bit his lip out of embarrassment.

Farrah stepped forward slightly. “You must not have heard me say I was sorry that he couldn’t wear his squid suit tonight, it’s being..washed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Maxwell.” Hana gave him a sad smile. “You can always wear it next time!”

Maxwell nodded then gave Farrah’s hand a squeeze. Thank you.

Of course, I’m always here for you.

The conversations continued on as usual, everyone discussing the events for tonight. Maxwell stayed silent, for the most part, as he instead listened in on the thoughts of everyone around him. They mostly were thinking about what to wear, except Drake who was thinking about whiskey, and Olivia who was wondering if she could bring knives. Both of which Maxwell telepathically told Farrah and she assured the two about their concerns. This furthered the confusion settled in the room, as everyone wondered how Maxwell and Farrah seemed to be reading their minds. Maxwell even heard Sir Wigglesworth thoughts, which could be slightly disturbing for the corgi. They ranged from pets to treats, to...other dogs. He tried his best to block those ones out, he tried his best to block most people’s out. He was coming to realize hearing people’s thoughts isn’t as fun as it sounds.

Eventually night fell and everyone retired to their rooms. As Maxwell was getting ready for bed, his door swung opened and he expected it to be Farrah, but didn’t expect her to be followed by Liam. They both rushed inside and she shut the door after them.

“He knows!” Farrah whispered to Maxwell as she took her place beside him.

Maxwell sighed. “Yeah, I know. I heard his thoughts and accidentally talked to him—”

“Inside my head.” Liam finished Maxwell’s sentence with a chuckle. Farrah looked between the two of them.

“Wow some bonding experience, huh!” She smiled at the men and they both gave smiles back. Except Maxwell’s was more sad than happy. “What’s wrong?” Farrah asked him, searching his eyes for an answer. You can tell me here. Maxwell shook his head at her and sighed once more.

“I thought this would be more fun. But it’s hard hearing what people think. About me, about you, about everyone.” He paused before continuing. “It was fun for the beginning, but now it’s tiring having to hear Drake talk AND think about whiskey. And having to hear our dog think about everything he wants to hump.” Farrah’s eyes widened at the last comment. “And what if when they find out, they think differently of me? I don’t know..I think I’ve had my fun but now..I want it to go away.” She stepped forward and pulled him into an embrace.

“I’m sorry…” She pulled away as Liam grasped Maxwell’s shoulder.

“We had no idea how hard it was for you.”

Maxwell smiled sadly at his lover their friend. “I think I’ll be okay. Maybe tomorrow a super mutant will come to destroy the Earth, and the only way to stop him is by reading his mind and saying his deepest darkest secret aloud.” They both laughed at this, and he felt less sad. Less alone. Liam looked at the couple and understood they needed some time alone.

“I’m going to go to my room.” He gave Maxwell’s shoulder another squeeze, smiled at Farrah, and then left the two alone.

I love you. Maxwell softened at Farrah’s words in his head, he brushed her blonde hair off her forehead and placed a kiss where it used to lay.

And I love you. She smiled at him before they both got into bed, drifting into sleep with arms wrapped around each other.

The following morning Maxwell awoke feeling more refreshed, and way less hungover, than the previous one. Farrah’s side of the bed was already vacant, which told Maxwell his friends awaited his arrival at the breakfast table. He got ready and headed down to them, taking his place at the head of the table just as the morning before. When the conversations got quiet, Olivia spoke to Maxwell.

“So, Maxwell. How is it you all of a sudden seem more...aware of what is going on?” He took a big bite of eggs and grabbed some bacon in his hand before responding.

“Oh, it’s because I woke up yesterday with telepathy.” He spoke between chewing his food, and took a bite of bacon. Everyone was silent for a moment before they started giggling and laughing. As he joined in the laughter, his eyes met Farrah’s amidst the minor chaos and he gave her a wink.

Maybe this won’t be so hard after all. He thought to himself as he looked around at his smiling friends.

——

Anon, I hope you enjoyed! And anyone else who read this, I hope you did! If anyone wants to be tagged in my future works, tell me! And again, send me an ask if you have any fic suggestions!!

[angstymarshmallow]

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir Masterlist

General

The Wandering Girl (Submission for #ChoicesCreates Round 12)

Drake Walker x MC

A Gap of Time (NSFW) A Glimmer of Everything (Fic Request) A Lazy Morning (NSFW) (Fic Request) A Midnight Snack (Fic Request) A Peek Into the Future (Fic Request) A Simple Touch A Twisted Fairytale After Midnight All I Want An Afternoon In (Fic Request) And Then There Was Only One (Drabble Request) An Unexpected Christmas (Fic Request) An Official Announcement (NSFW) (Fic Request) Baby it’s Cold Outside (Fic Request) By Chance (Part 1 , Part 2,  Part 3 ) Between You and Her Blinding Heat [Part 10 of Frozen - FINALE] Ça, Alors (Fic Reuqest) Coaxed (Drabble) Day One “Goodbye” Day Two “Unhinged” Day Three “Daydreams” Day Four “Awake” Day Five “Decisions” Day Six “Adowmania” Day Six “Adowmania” Part 2 Day Nine “ Eudaimonia” Day Ten “Forelsket” Defrost [Part 5 of Frozen] Drowning Three Little Words (NSFW) Enamored  [Part 1 ] [Part 2] Finding Forever (Fic Request) Follow You Anywhere Four Lessons Laced in Whiskey (Submission for #ChoicesCreates Round 18) Frigid [Part 4 of Frozen] Frozen (Fic Request) Gagnant (Drabble Request) Halloween Reflections Happy Hungover (Drabble Request) Homesick (Submission for #ChoicesCreates Round 30) I Don’t Have to Pretend With You If Things Were Different I’m Home Now In Weakness and Strength (NSFW) Kindle [Part 7 of Frozen] Lukewarm [Part 6 of Frozen] Not Here None of Tomorrow Mattered No Matter How Far (Submission for#ChoicesCreates Round 24) Nothing Good Happens After 2 AM (Fic Request) Matching Souls (Fic Request) Mid Afternoon Distractions (NSFW) (Fic Request) Missing You Moments (Fic Request) New Memories (Fic Request) OTP Asks Penny For Your Thoughts (NSFW) (Fic Request) Play for Keeps Prove it To Me (NSFW) (Fic Request) Scorched [Part 9 of Frozen] Seconds (Fic Request) Seeking Solace (Fic Request) Shine and Fade (Submission for #ChoicesCreates Round 16) Side Effects of Being Human (Submission for #ChoicesCreates Round 13) Something to Remember Me By (Submission for #ChoicesCreates Round 15) Star Crossed Paths Stay (Drabble) Stop Wondering (Fic Request) Stuffy [Part 8 of Frozen] Sub Zero [Part 3 of Frozen] Text Posts Dump 1.2, Text Posts Dump 1.3 Talks Dirty (Drabble Request) Thawed [Part 2 of Frozen] “The Beginning” (Part 1 of Fantasy AU, A TRR fanfic) Their Bundle of Sunshine (Fic Request) The Moment (Poetry) Touch and Go (Fic Request) Twirling Into You (Drabble Request) Until Morning W is for Win and Whiskey (Fic Request) We’ll Be Okay Your Winter Touch (NSFW) (Fic Request)

Hana Lee x MC

OTP Asks

Maxwell Beaumont x MC

Can’t Go Back OTP Asks

The Prince/Liam x MC

Unspoken Truth (Submission for @ChoicesCreates Round 14) Not This Version (Poem)

[officialchoicestrash]

Hopeless Romantic (Maxwell x MC)

Pairing: Maxwell x MC, Drake x MC (platonic, former feelings hinted at)

Rating: G 

Warnings: Drinking, angst

Summary: Lucy drinks away her sorrows and talks to Drake after realizing her feelings for Maxwell aren’t quite as in the past as she had thought. 

Notes: Takes place some time during Book 2. I kind of felt like there could’ve been more buildup to Maxwell and MC’s romance so this is kind of my way of filling in the gaps, I hope you guys enjoy!

"Another please."

The bartender gave her a quizzical look before sliding glass of water across the bar. 

"Sorry miss, have to cut you off."

The girl sighed, slouching over her glass of water before she gulped it down.

"Rough night Romano?"

Lucy glanced over to the denim-clad man who now sat next to her before sighing again.

"You could say that."

"One whiskey please!" He called to the bartender, who quickly obliged. "Why don't you tell me about it?"

"We tracked down the reporter, she gave us some info on who paid her."

"That's great though, you're one step closer to clearing your name," Drake commented, taking a sip from his glass.

It should've been great-she knew that-but something else was gnawing at her, something she thought she had gotten rid of months ago. 

"I'm in love with someone else."

A series of coughing noises erupted from the seat next to Lucy and she turned her head, watching her friend try to recover from what she had just said. 

"Romano you know that my feelings for you are long gone."

"Don't flatter yourself Walker," she commented dryly, continuing to drink her water. "I don't have any interest in you."

"Then who-" 

But Lucy wasn't looking at him anymore, instead she was gazing over his shoulder, at the man who was attempting to teach a group of drunk passengers his latest dance moves.

"And I like to call this move the Kraken!" 

Lucy knew it wasn't rational-she had a handsome prince ready to throw everything away for her but she just couldn't bring herself to love him. When she agreed to fly across the world to compete for the prince's hand she thought it would be a long-shot-yes, she had feelings for him but she was just a waitress from New York.

But somehow she had won Liam's heart, somehow she had almost become his fiancee. Was it what she had wanted? Not exactly, but she knew she could grow to love Liam if she had just given him a chance. If she just hadn't fallen in love with her sponsor

"Oh," Drake realized, "I thought you were over that."

"I thought I was too," she muttered bitterly.

In all honesty Lucy thought she had gotten over it. There was a time when she was foolish enough to hope that Maxwell had maybe felt the same way about her that she did about him. When she realized that wasn't the case, she had moved on; she focused on Liam and tried to be the woman he deserved, she was even able to see a future with him.

And then the Coronation Ball happened. She had been ready to go back to New York after that but somehow Maxwell had convinced her that she could still find a way to be with Liam; it probably would've been possible if she hadn't made the mistake of falling in love with Maxwell all over again. 

"So...what are you going to do?"

"What can I do Drake? You know what he's said before! He made it very clear that I can only be here for Liam...there's no chance for us," it was then that Drake's worst fear came true and Lucy began to weep. 

"Uh...there, there," he said, awkwardly attempting to pat her back as she leaned her arms onto the bar, covering her eyes with her hands.

She let it all out: the feeling of rejection she had felt at the Nevrakis ball, her heartbreak during the hunt at Applewood, the devastation caused by the scandal, and the pain of knowing that Maxwell Beaumont would never love her back.

[angelasscribbles]

Thro(n)es of Passion: A Bad Romance One-Shot

Series: Bad Romance Continues

Original Series: Bad Romance

Fandom: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Liam x Max, Riley x Drake

Word Count: 2,872

Rating: NSFW

Warnings for this chapter: Lemons, group sex, D/s dynamic

 A/N: Submission for @choicesprompts Smutember prompt event. Prompt: Three is not a crowd.

A/N2: The requested follow-up to Homerun. It got very long so I had to split it. There is a part 2, but I don't think it will be ready for smutember.

My other stuff: Master List.

Guys!! THIS ART!!!! This is a collage of bits and pieces of this amazing commission by @rosefuckinggenius. You can see the full work here. I wanted to share it so much but I don't want to get marked as explicit again so I'm going the safer route and linking it. I cannot tell you how much I love it though. I've spent far too much time just staring at it! Please take the time to go see the full piece, it's worth it! (Only if you're over 18 of course as it is NSFW).

They had taken dinner in the casual dining room on the third floor with Regina and several high-level live-in staffers.

The meal had been full of both awkward and flirty glances between the four of them as they contemplated the night to come.

Crown Princess Eleanor was spending the night with Regina and their most trusted nanny.

The air was thick with anticipation as the door to the royal apartment closed behind them.

“Would anyone like a drink?” Liam asked, suddenly a little stiff. He had very little sexual inhibitions. By any standards, he was pretty adventurous. He was both a voyeur and an exhibitionist, he liked to watch, he liked to be watched. He was pansexual, the attraction was about the person, not their gender. His relationship with Riley was open sexually, they both indulged in the occasional meaningless hookup. He was no stranger to group sex. Being part of a committed throuple, threesomes were common enough. Bringing a third, or fourth person in had happened on a few occasions.

None of that was the problem.

His eyes slid across the room surreptitiously as he poured thirty-year-old bourbon carelessly into four tumblers while taking in his best friend’s nervousness.

At least he wasn’t the only one.

Drake was the problem. The man was gorgeous but straight. Liam had put any unrequited romantic or sexual feelings in a box and locked it long ago. They were friends.

Best friends.

Their relationship had survived falling for the same woman but their arrangement, up until now, had kept their respective sex lives with her separate.

The memory of Drake naked in the shower after their last workout flitted through his mind and his dick twitched.

Shit.

He gulped down his glass of bourbon and refilled it before thrusting two glasses into Max’s hands, “For you and Drake,” he delivered one of the remaining two to Riley, not trusting his hands not to shake if he looked in Drake’s eyes.

Max took the two drinks and practically danced across the room to deliver one of them to Drake. Max had no fucks to give. Any night he got Liam and Riley both was a good night. Getting to see Drake naked was a bonus. A fucking glorious, amazing, dick-hardening bonus. He was sure he must be living his life right because the gods clearly favored him.

Drake took the offered drink with a steadiness he didn’t feel, “Thanks.” He didn’t make eye contact. Max was far too happy about the situation. Drake hadn’t forgotten all the comments about his ass.

As if reading his mind, Riley moved close to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm, “You don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to.”

He glanced down into her face and his heart skipped a beat, just like it always did. He was as helpless when he looked into her eyes now as he had been the very first time. And while the sex was the best he’d ever had, it wasn’t about that. He loved her, plain and simple, and he always wanted to be with her, regardless of what they were doing, but he knew if he opted out of this little adventure tonight, he’d be sleeping alone.

Even though it had been a while since Liam had brought up the terms of the marriage contract, Drake had no doubt that he would if he tried to coopt Riley for the night and he couldn’t even blame him. After all, he had already been inside her tonight, Liam hadn’t.

He was nervous about watching her interact with Liam and Max sexually. There had been a time when something like this would have tweaked all his insecurities, but he had come to terms with her relationship with both Liam and Max.

Witnessing it, however, was another animal entirely. Not that he hadn’t witnessed plenty of overt displays of affection between the other three members of their quad, they lived together, of course, he had. And he often had to stand by her side at public events as her head of security, hanging back as Liam put his hands all over her.

It no longer phased him. In fact, the glances they shared when no one was looking, the subtle brushing of fingertips, his hand at the small of her back as he escorted her places, all of it conspired to stoke his desire for her even higher. Watching her play the proper queen and wife to Liam at court, all the while knowing what was in store for him when they were alone, had become one of his favorite pastimes.

The rumor was out there that the Cordonian royal couple had an official arrangement and watching prissy, stuffed-shirted members of the nobility vie for her attention knowing that it was he, and not any of them, that would grace her bed at the end of the night was deeply satisfying.

He was used to sleeping alone, he’d been doing it most of his life, but he had to admit that the nights he spent with her were better in every conceivable way. And not just the nights the two of them spent in his room. He had been taken completely by surprise at just how much he enjoyed sleeping in the big bed with everyone else.

It wasn’t about sex, obviously. Up until now, anytime he was sleeping with them, there was no sex happening.

There was taking care of the baby, there was watching movies while snuggling under the covers, and there were late-night conversations in which he found Max not only hysterically funny but pretty goddamned insightful about a lot of shit. He had become accustomed to falling asleep next to her and he liked it.

She was going to have sex with Liam and Max tonight regardless of if he opted in or not, so if it meant he got to snuggle up with her afterward, then goddamn right he was going through with this.

Besides, he could definitely have sex again. He could always have sex again. In fact, he was more curious than he wanted to admit about what it would be like watching her with another man. He’d shared her with women before, but never another man. That first threesome they had with Siobhan was how he’d discovered he had what Riley called a reclaiming kink. Something about watching her be taken by someone else and then reestablishing his claim on her by possessing her body ratcheted his hunger for her to a level he hadn’t known existed.

A frisson of lust shot through him at the thought of watching Liam fuck her and his eyes flicked over to his best friend then back to the woman they both loved as he assured her, “I’m good.”

Riley’s body responded to his intensity like it always did, with heat pooling in her center. Staring into Drake’s eyes while she could see Max out of her peripheral and feel the weight of Liam’s gaze on her back sent chills cascading down her spine and electricity coursing through her veins.

Her clothes were suddenly too restrictive.

“I’ll be right back,” she excused herself as she sat her drink on an end table and disappeared into the bedroom.

“Would anyone like a refill?” Liam asked as he and Drake studiously avoided eye contact.

“Me, but I’ll get it,” Drake crossed the room to refill his drink. He poured a generous helping into his glass as he glanced up to find Max playfully doing a strip tease in front of Liam.

Liam laughed and abandoned his drink so he could use both hands to capture his lover and pull him close.

Max tried to squirm out of his grasp, but Liam sank his fingers into his hair and pressed his other hand firmly into the small of his back, causing all the fight to go out of him as Max went limp, submission and desire flooding through him.

Drake turned his eyes to the bedroom door silently willing Riley to return. Watching Max and Liam play slap and tickle wasn’t what he had signed up for.

When she returned, she was wearing a strappy red silk ouvert bra with matching thong and twirling a black leather collar around one finger. She stopped to take in the scene in front of her. She wasn’t sure which excited her more, the sight of Liam and Max all over each other, or the primal need she saw dancing in Drake’s eyes as they tracked her every movement.

She stepped further into the room, her eyes locked on Drake as she softly called out, “Max, come here.”  

Liam immediately released him and stepped back allowing Max to scurry over to Riley.

There had been a whole negotiation around how to handle Max’s submissiveness. While one dominant could easily manage multiple subs, the reverse was much harder to maintain. If orders conflicted, which master did he obey?

While Liam didn’t mind a bit of brattiness, Riley preferred complete submission so they had agreed that any time the three of them were together, her orders would supersede his. Since Liam was a switch, it wasn’t hard for him to step away from that role when they were all playing, saving his more dominant impulses toward Max for when it was just the two of them.

Besides that, Max had submitted himself to Riley before he and Liam were a thing, and she was the one who had collared him. He was hers.

“Yes, my queen?” Max licked his lips in anticipation.

Riley crooked her finger to indicate he should follow her.

Drake continued to trace her movements as she crossed the room, hips swaying seductively, to take a seat on the couch. Max immediately knelt in front of her.  

Drake watched as she buckled the collar around the other man’s neck. There had been a time when he would have found Max’s complete submission to her weird and weak. He no longer felt that way. Max was just Max, and while his kinks were different from his own, they were no less valid.

Liam retrieved his drink and slammed the rest of it down before crossing the room, discarding clothes as he went, and taking a seat next to her. Fuck it, he decided. He would just proceed as if Drake weren’t standing mere feet away, watching them.

The secret anticipation had nearly killed him. Sitting through dinner as if they hadn’t been planning a foursome immediately after had been an exercise in restraint, testing the strength of his resolve. His very active imagination had already gotten ahead of him with images of what Drake looked like in the throes of passion. Max’s teasing had only stoked the flame higher, watching him now kneeling in front of Riley was more than could withstand. He needed to touch them both.

He leaned forward and captured Max’s lips in a slow, languid kiss before sitting up and turning Riley’s head to face him. He parted her lips with his tongue as his fingers sank into Max’s hair.

Max dotted gentle kisses along the inside of her thigh, one hand on her leg, one hand on Liam’s. Max’s fingers snaked beneath the elastic of her thong. He paused and looked up at her, “May I?”

“Yes, sweet boy, you may,” Riley lifted herself a little to make it easier for him to ease the underwear from her body.

Drake stood at a distance, watching, until she called out to him, “What are you waiting for?”

Her voice spurred him into action. Discarding his own drink, Drake pulled the body-hugging grey t-shirt from his body as he crossed the room in three long strides. He leaned over the back of the couch and trailed hot kisses up the side of her exposed neck.

Riley had one hand tangled in Liam’s hair, and one in Drake’s. She had never touched both of them sexually at the same time before and it sent electric shocks thrilling through her body.

All three men’s hands and mouths were on her and she was lost in the sensation. Lips were on her mouth, her neck, her thighs, and the set on her thighs was steadily trailing upward.

She broke the kiss with Liam when Max’s tongue found her center. Her head thumped back against the couch as her body arched toward him with a sensuous moan.

Drake froze, watching her face. The jealousy he had expected never materialized. He was just as enraptured watching the ecstasy play across her face with Max’s tongue dancing between her legs as he had been when Siobhan had done it.

He didn’t notice how Liam’s eyes darted back and forth between Riley’s face and his own.

“Fuck,” Liam breathed out softly as Riley’s hands moved from his hair to Max’s.

“Mmm, Drake…” she moaned as she turned her head toward him.

With one fluid motion, he hopped over the back of the couch to take the empty spot next to her and covered her lips with his own. He leaned into the kiss, deepening it as she screamed her orgasm into his mouth.

Liam wasn’t sure which he wanted to do more, grab Max by the hair and move him between his own legs, or grab Riley and take her to their bed so he could throw her down and fuck her like there was no tomorrow.

The decision was made for him as Max took matters, and Liam, into his own hands. Or mouth as it were. Liam’s eyes rolled back as Max took his whole length in.

Next to him, Riley had climbed into Drake’s lap, straddling him. Drake’s eyes and hands roved up and down her mostly naked body as desire scaled through him. Earlier in the locker room had been fast and furious. This was slow and torturous.

“These need to come off,” she smiled seductively as her fingers played at the top of his jeans.

Max paused long enough to nip Liam gently on the inside of his leg as he shot a discreet glance toward Drake. Riley had moved off him so he could rid himself of the pants. Max watched in appreciation as Drake’s cock sprung free.

Drake kicked the pants to the side and sat back down, pulling her back into his lap.

Max returned his attention to Liam’s cock as Riley focused on Drake. She lowered herself onto him, slowly easing herself down until he was fully inside her. She stayed there, not moving as she lowered her lips to his ear, “Don’t cum yet. Can you do that for me?”

“I…maybe….no promises,” he expertly relieved her of the bra then he brought two handfuls of firm, supple breasts together and lavished them with his tongue.

She moved her body, grinding into him.

He could usually hold out longer, especially considering they had already done the deed once today. But everything conspired against him. The sounds she was making, the way her body moved against him, the familiar, evocative scent of her, these things were enough, but added to it were the sounds coming from the couple next to them. He might not be into men, but the soft whimpers coming from Liam dumped fuel on the fire already raging through him.

Riley cried out, pushing against him as she fell apart for the second time. That was the end of his restraint. His fingers dug into her hips as he pulled her down onto him while thrusting himself up into her. Obscenities spilled from his mouth as he pulsed inside her.

Liam had meant to stop Max before he came, but he found himself fixated on the sight of Riley bouncing on top of Drake. The moment Drake exploded inside of her, Liam erupted into his lover’s mouth. The sensation of Max’s mouth on him, coupled with the visual of Riley and Drake was more than he could withstand. His fingers twisted in Max’s hair as guttural sounds were ripped from his throat.

Max swallowed every drop, then ran his tongue over the tip for good measure before rocking back on his knees, pleased with himself as he licked his lips in satisfaction.

Liam’s eyes flicked from Max’s face grinning up at him to Riley as Drake’s fingers stroked down the bare flesh of her back. “I think we should move this to the bedroom,” he managed to croak out.

He had cum, but he wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot. He could definitely go again. And Max still hadn’t had any relief, he needed to remedy that. He also wanted to be inside Riley before the night ended.

Riley moved off Drake, retaking her spot in the middle of the couch as she turned toward Liam, “That’s a fabulous idea!” She pulled on Max’s collar, “Come on, Maxey, in the bedroom!”

Max scrambled to his feet and practically skipped to the bedroom. Riley followed behind him, Liam close on her heels. She stopped in the doorway and looked back, “Aren’t you coming?”

“I’m coming!” Drake took to his feet. He had decided to see this thing through, and he wasn’t a quitter.

[choiceswreckedme]

I haven't played Choices in like, two years (thanks adopting kids and moving across the country), but I'm replaying my first love TRR and it's making me FEEL THINGS.