#maxwell x olivia

[alj4890]

Disbelief

(Maxwell Beaumont x Olivia Nevrakis) in a choices Crackship drabble

Inspired by the prompt: No one believes we're dating

A/N My writer's block finally eased up! Woo! This idea was originally part of my Crackship series involving these two, but I decided to go a different route to their reveal. I still wanted to write this scene for them and thought, why not share it? So here we go, an alternate universe within an alternate universe 🤣

Masterlist

"I've got to find a man." Penelope wailed.

While the other ladies of the court expressed their sympathy, Olivia merely rolled her eyes.

"Madeleine told me again that I needed to find someone after my mess up at the fashion show." Penelope slumped in her chair. "Even after I doubled the donation, she still insisted I make a match before the wedding shower."

Her violet eyes drifted over to where Riley was talking to Drake and Maxwell. A slight frown formed on her lips.

"I don't care what Riley thinks! I'm going to ask Maxwell to enter into a courtship with me." She glanced at Kiara. "And I think you should ask Drake!"

Hana's jaw dropped.

"Penelope!" Kiara gasped. "I don't think I--"

"You have such a crush on him!" Penelope argued. "Isn't it time to finally give in to your fan--"

"Tais-toi!" Kiara exclaimed, looking about to make certain no other nobles overheard their conversation.

"Perhaps," Hana gently interjected, "we should instead focus on why you think Maxwell is right for you."

Kiara breathed a little easier now that the conversation wasn't focused upon her own hopeless love life.

Penelope practically beamed as she went into a list of reasons Maxwell would be a good match.

"He's so sweet! He's always smiling, even though he's stuck with a scandal in his house." She sighed while staring at him. "He's also kinda dreamy. Those blue eyes of his are to die for! And--"

"And he's taken." Olivia declared.

Three pairs of eyes blinked at her in confusion.

"Taken?" Penelope repeated in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

Olivia finished off her glass of wine. Standing up, she addressed the clueless trio with a bit of smugness.

"I mean he is already in a committed relationship."

"With whom?" Kiara asked.

Penelope released a little cry that she attempted to muffle with her hand.

"It's Riley! He's in a relationship with her! That's why she didn't return to America after being caught with Tariq!"

Hana shook her head. "I don't think that's--"

"It isn't Riley!" Olivia snapped. "It's me."

"You what?" Penelope asked.

"I'm the one dating Maxwell!" Olivia announced.

Silence fell upon the group.

Then, a snicker slipped out.

Kiara and Penelope began to laugh to the point tears twinkled in their eyes.

"You and Maxwell Beaumont?" Kiara guffawed.

"Like that would ever happen!" Penelope wiped her eyes as more giggles burst forth.

Hana seemed to be the only one noticing Olivia's short fuse igniting. The longer the two ladies laughed and joked about how ridiculous the notion was, the more menacing Olivia became.

"Why is that funny?" She demanded.

"Because!" Penelope exclaimed. "He's super sweet and just adorable."

"You're more..." Kiara tried to find the right word to describe the duchess.

"Stoic?" Penelope offered.

"Hmm." Kiara tapped her chin in thought. "She is that, yet much more emotional."

The two pondered the notion a little longer.

"You don't like fun." Penelope declared.

"Excuse me?" Olivia bit out.

"Of course she does!" Hana argued. "Just because your idea of fun doesn't match up with hers doesn't mean she--"

Olivia silenced her with a slash of her hand. Though she was grateful for Hana's defence, she was more than capable of fighting her own battles.

"Regardless of what you think," Olivia hissed. "Maxwell and I are together."

"Do the Beaumont's owe you something?" Penelope teased.

Kiara laughed at the notion. "It must be an enormous amount of debt some ancestor of theirs was unable to pay."

"Unlike you," Olivia leaned forward, bracing her hands upon the table, "I don't need any reason to have a man want me."

She straightened her shoulders then smoothed her black dress down. "Maxwell's always been in love with me."

With that, she turned on her heel to join his group.

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

"I'm so sick of these functions." Drake grumbled. "It'd be different if they actually fed us instead of these little appetizers they occasionally send out."

"I think it's called an amuse-bouche." Riley told him.

"Yeah well, I'm not amused." He mumbled.

"It's supposed to awaken your palate." Maxwell added.

When both Riley and Drake looked at him curiously, he shrugged.

"I heard it on some cooking show."

"Makes sense." Riley teased him. "I mean, it isn't like you grew up with all this fancy dining or anything."

"The lessons were boring." Maxwell explained. "But the food rarely failed to please. "

"Uh huh." Drake rolled his eyes. "Anyway. When do we actually get to have dinner?"

"Probably after Liam and Madeleine are done talking to our hosts." Riley nodded toward the far side of the room.

The trio quietly observed the group speaking to Liam. The way he stood, firm and unmoving let them know that negotiations were not going well.

"Ugh." Drake slumped back against the wall. "We are never getting out of here."

"We're going to starve!" Maxwell clutched his growling stomach. "I can already see a faint light growing brighter in the distance."

"We could always sneak out for a snack." Riley whispered.

Drake and Maxwell perked up at that suggestion.

"I'm game." Drake whispered back. "I hate to leave Liam, but the needs of the many and all that."

"I'll grab Hana." Riley added.

"I'll get Liv." Maxwell turned to leave to do that very thing, only to find himself yanked back by Drake.

"Why in the hell would you get Olivia?" He asked.

Maxwell blinked.

"Um, because she's my girlfriend."

Riley and Drake stared at him for two heartbeats before they burst out laughing.

"You almost had me there Beaumont!" Drake slapped him on the back.

"Your face!" Riley spluttered. "You were so serious!"

"But she is!" Maxwell argued. "Olivia and I have been in a relationship for a while now."

"Uh huh." Drake snickered. "And Liam's decided to make me his fashion expert."

Riley giggled even harder at that notion.

"It's the truth!" Maxwell declared. "I've been in love with Liv for ages. She realized we should be together and--"

"Stop!" Drake pleaded, doubling over.

"I can't breathe!" Riley gasped.

"Guys, I'm telling you the--"

Maxwell paused when Olivia slipped her arm around his waist.

"Kiss me." She demanded.

Without missing a beat, he pulled her into a long and tender kiss.

Riley, Drake, and the ladies Olivia had left behind stared in astonishment at the sight of the two entwined.

When the kiss came to an end, Olivia's smug smirk flashed.

"Want to get out of here?" She asked him.

"With you?" Maxwell's dimpled grin appeared. "Always."

She stepped out of his arms while glaring triumphantly at Penelope.

Lacing his fingers with Olivia's, Maxwell let her lead the way out of the banquet hall.

She led him near the table where Penelope and Kiara sat with Hana.

Pausing once more so they could easily hear her, "Max? How would you like to stay the night with me?"

"Absolutely!" He exclaimed with a grin.

"We didn't get to finish what we started the night before." She continued once she heard Penelope's frustrated squeal. "I think we'll need all night to finally get," she lowered her voice to a purr, "completely satisfied."

Before anyone could react to that blatant hint, Maxwell gripped Olivia's hand and dragged her out of there.

"Maxwell!" She snapped as he pulled her down the street. "Slow down!"

"We have to hurry!" He told her. "That bakery we went to last night closes in twenty minutes!"

She huffed, a slight smile forming at the wrong thoughts she'd planted in everyone's minds.

"You know, we could do more than eat our weight in macarons." She reminded him.

He paused, allowing her to bump right into his arms.

"I fully intend to." He captured her lips in a long, deep kiss. "But I need energy which requires sugar to make sure you wake up completely satisfied."

Olivia's lips curved into an amused smile.

Leave it to Maxwell to find a way to turn a simple dessert into fuel for sex.

Shaking her head in amusement, she takes his hand once more as they hurry on to a nearby bakery.

[angelasscribbles]

One Night in Cordonia Extra: Max and Liv

This fabulous GIF is courtesy, once again, of @secretaryunpaid. Thank you so much for doing these!!!

[tessa-liam]

Turning the Page

Chapter 15 

_Bridge of Dreams_ 

Choices, The Royal Romance, The Royal Heir AU 

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

Turning the Page Series Masterlist, My Complete Masterlist 

Main pairing: Liam Rys x F!OC Riley Brooks

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

Category: On-going series, contains angst/fluff/depression. Cross-over fic with Choices, Perfect Match. 

Rating: M 🔞 - Warnings – Series will have crude language, weapons, NSFW material – not Beta’d - please excuse all errors.

Bridge of Dreams

Chapter 15 

Chapter Summary: Liam and Riley revisit the Pont des Arts, ‘Lovelock Bridge” in Paris, France. Olivia begins a relationship with Damien Nazario. William enjoys his first camping trip with Uncles Drake and Maxwell & Bartie

Music Inspiration: I Won’t Give Up, Jason Mraz 

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

A/N2: Damien Nazario has been assigned as William’s personal bodyguard. (Series cross-over with ‘Perfect Match’) 

Santorini, Greece 

Rubbing away the fog off the bathroom mirror after his hot shower, Damien Nazario could now see his reflection to shave. After waking from a rejuvenating sleep, his plans included enjoying the white sand beaches that were here in Santorini and maybe some sightseeing on the island. He was afforded a couple of free days of relaxation to enjoy the beaches of Santorini by King Liam before he was to return to his duties of guarding the young crown prince in Cordonia. 

...and he was determined to enjoy this free time. Damien finished shaving and splashed water on his face. He felt refreshed and energized, ready to take on the day. 

He grabbed a towel and dried his face. Then, he headed into the bedroom to get dressed. 

 Damien padded slowly into the bedroom of her hotel suite and grinned. 

He had every intention of enjoying his time with his fiery red-haired companion, whom he shared a bed with after the wedding festivities ended. 

After Olivia invited him to extend the celebration in her hotel room -- which he accepted without hesitation -- they spent the night in each other's arms, exploring their desires. It had been a while since he had been with a woman, and even longer since he had been with a woman like Duchess Olivia. She was confident, intelligent, and beautiful. And she knew how to please a man. 

Ever since the first day they were introduced, he found himself drawn to her and intrigued by her personality. 

Damien had to admit, the redhead was very sexy, and it wasn't just her appearance. It was also the way she carried herself and the way she spoke. Her confidence of knowing exactly what she wanted and was not afraid to go after it. 

The way she spoke so eloquently and with such passion was very arousing. He loved the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she was interested in; her intellect apparent. 

He was intrigued by her confidence and her ability to be assertive. Most women would shy away from taking charge, but not Olivia. She was bold and unafraid to express her feelings. He found that to be incredibly attractive and erotic. 

Damien smiled, biting his top lip as he thought about the previous night and all the things they did. They had made love until the early hours of the morning leaving them both exhausted but satisfied. 

Olivia was already up and dressed, sitting on the bed. She was wearing a pale coral sundress that complimented her skin tone, and her red hair was pulled back into a loose chignon. 

"Good morning," Damien said as he approached her. 

"Good morning," Olivia replied coyly, a smile playing on her lips. 

Damien leaned down and kissed her, his hand cupping her cheek. He couldn't resist pulling her close, inhaling her sweet scent. 

"I was wondering if you would like to join me on the beach today," Damien suggested, his fingers brushing a stray hair away from her face. 

"Actually, I was planning on returning to Cordonia today." 

"Why so soon?" Damien asked, slightly disappointed. 

"I have important business to attend to." 

"Is everything okay?" 

"Everything's fine," Olivia reassured him, placing her hand on his chest. "I just need to get back to work." 

"Of course," Damien nodded. "But you still have the day free before your flight". 

"True," Olivia agreed. "I suppose we could spend a few more hours together." 

"Excellent," Damien smiled, his brown eyes twinkling. "Would you like to have breakfast first?" 

"Actually, I have a better idea," Olivia said, her voice low and seductive. 

"What do you have in mind?" 

Olivia smirked, her green eyes darkening with desire. "Why don't you come back to bed?" 

"Now that sounds like a perfect plan." 

Damien's mouth curved into a grin as he gently pushed her back and joined her back in bed. 

As she looked out the 18th floor window, Riley could see the Seine River winding its way through the city. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 

The Suite Impériale at the Ritz, Paris, France 

This is it. 

Riley knew that she would have to relive the bittersweet memories from the engagement tour. It would be hard, but she knew that it would also be cathartic. She needed this. 

She needed to let go of the past. 

She turned and looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She was wearing a flowing, white sundress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her hair was falling softly onto her shoulders, and her makeup was simple and elegant. 

She was ready. 

She slipped on a pair of white sandals and made her way down to the lobby. Liam was meeting her at their spot once he finished his meeting with the French president and he should be there momentarily. 

When Riley stepped outside, the sun was shining, and the sky was a brilliant blue. 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air, trying to calm her jitters. 

As Riley made her way along the Seine, she could not help but think about the last time she was here. 

It was a day she would never forget. 

The day she and Liam placed that small gold lock on the bridge. 

It was the day they declared their love for each other and sealed it with a kiss. 

Riley sighed, remembering how happy she was that day. How hopeful. 

She had been so naïve. 

Tariq was never found and the scandal lived on. Liam would abide by his duty and marry Madeleine, making her his queen. 

As Riley rounded the corner, she could see the bridge coming into view. 

Her heart started to race, and her palms became sweaty. She felt her tears travel down her cheeks. 

She was nervous. 

She didn't know what to expect or why Liam was so insistent on revisiting this exact spot. 

Riley reached the bridge and stopped. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. 

She was ready. 

The memories came flooding back. 

'You spot Liam leaning against a stone railing overlooking the Seine. His expression is clouded, but when he hears you approach, he breaks into a smile. 

"Riley!"' 

"Liam. You are a sight for sore eyes." 

Liam chuckles. "That's my line." 

He pushes himself off the railing and takes a few steps forward, closing the distance. 

'"I wasn't sure you'd come."'

He wraps you in a tight embrace, resting his head against your shoulder. You feel his chest heave with a sigh.  

"After the bachelor party, I found Maxwell and he filled me in on your ... mission earlier." 

To think that Bastien helped set you up ..." 

Liam nods. "It's ... shocking, yes, but ... I think it might have been a blessing in disguise." 

"How so?" 

Liam pulls away and smiles. "If we hadn't been interrupted, I may not have had the opportunity to spend the evening with you. And as much as I love spending time with my friends, being with you was ... a much-needed escape." 

"I wasn't sure if we should risk coming here. If the person behind this is so powerful that Bastien is afraid of them ..., are we really safe? I don't know how deeply this goes or who we can trust. All I know is that I couldn't bear it if something happened to you. The only way to keep you safe might be for us to leave. Permanently." 

Liam smiled sadly, I remember asking you, saying, 

"We could ... we could go anywhere. Anywhere in the world. Where do you want to go?" 

"You're joking, right? We can't leave Cordonia." 

"No, we can. We'll just go somewhere no one will ever find us. We can live in peace and happiness together." 

"We could have a family. We could be happy." 

"Liam ... no. No matter how tempting that sounds ...  

"You can't abandon Cordonia." 

His shoulders slump. "I know that. But if you asked me to, I would. In an instant." 

"I could never ask you that. Your people need an honest King now more than ever. And the Liam I know would never leave them behind. 

Liam tenderly takes your hands in his. 

"We will get through this, Riley. We have to. I refuse to believe otherwise." 

He lifts one of your hands and kisses the back of it, his eyes never leaving yours. 

"We'll find a way. Together." 

Liam pulls you close and kisses you, his arms wrapping around you tightly. 

After a moment, he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours. 

"I promise." 

"I won't give up on you, or us." 

"Nor will I." 

"Thank you, Riley for not letting my fears get the better of me." 

Liam steps back and holds out his arm to you. 

"Now, shall we continue our walk? 

"I'd love that, Liam." 

The two of you start walking down the bridge, hand-in-hand. 

"You know, Riley, there's one good thing about this whole Tariq situation." 

"And what's that?" 

"It's made me realize how lucky I am to have someone like you by my side. You're strong, kind, compassionate, and so much more. I love you, and I'm so grateful that you're a part of my life." 

Liam gives you a small smile. 

"Thank you, Liam." 

"For what?" 

"For always knowing the right thing to say." 

"Well, I try," Liam says with a smirk. 

"I know it's hard. But no matter what happens, at least we'll face it together." 

At this, Riley gets very emotional, thinking that by leaving him when she found out she was pregnant, she betrayed him. 

Riley was lost in thought as she walked, the sun beating down on her shoulders. It had been a long journey, and she was still processing everything that had happened. 

She thought about her decision to leave, and how it had affected Liam. 

She thought about William, and how she faced the challenge of being a single parent. 

The guilt was overwhelming. 

She knew she had made the right decision at the time, but she couldn't help but regret the pain she had caused Liam. 

She had left without a word, without a trace. 

And while she was certain that the time away had been necessary, she couldn't help but feel like she had let him down. 

Joining Liam at the railing they both gaze across the river. The streets around them are practically empty, though many lights still glitter on the water. 

It's so quiet. It feels almost like a dream. Like they're the only ones in the city. 

Liam puts his arm around Riley's shoulders and pulls her close. 

"Love, you look ... you look like you are miles away from here.

Penny tor your thoughts?"

"Liam. Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course ... anything, Riley."

Taking a shaky breath, speaking in a very small voice,

"After you married Madeleine, did ... did you ever grow feelings for her? When I left?"

Liam took a deep breath and sighed. He knew Riley wanted him to; needed him to be truthful.

"Madeleine and I, well, we grew fond of one another. As friends; but, nothing more."

A tear slipped down Riley's cheek, but Liam quickly rubbed it away.

"Our arrangement was that we would marry, have children, and rule Cordonia together. However, as time went on, I ... we both realized that we were never going to love each other. We would be nothing more than friends." 

Nodding her head, her eyes were locked onto the floor. She was trying to hold herself together.

"Madeleine did try, at first, to seduce me. She was quite insistent on producing an heir, but I couldn't bring myself to bed her. Cordonia be damned." 

Liam placed his hands on Riley's cheeks, cradling her head as she cried.

"I knew that, as long as you were out there, somewhere, I would always be yours. I couldn't move on." 

"I'm so, so sorry," she said. "I don't know if I'll ever stop feeling guilty for what happened." 

"Don't," he said, shaking his head. "It wasn't your fault. It was my choice. I had a responsibility to Cordonia, and I had a duty to the Crown. I knew what I was getting into when I married Madeleine." 

"You didn't have a choice," she whispered. 

"Neither did you," he replied. 

Riley sighed, her eyes filled with tears, looking up to the sky. 

"The night when William was born ... I was so happy. But you weren't mine. you belonged to someone else. It killed me ... that I ran and took your son away."

"Riley," Liam said softly, taking her hand. 

Riley pursed her lips, and began...

"Riley," he said tenderly, cupping her cheek. 

"Liam, when William was born, I was ecstatic. But then, when I held him for the first time, and he looked up at me ... I couldn't help but think that you should have been there, too. That he should have had his father with him, on the day he was born. And I just couldn't stop thinking about how I had left you behind, and that it was all my fault." 

"Riley," he said again, pulling her into his arms. "You were the one who was abandoned, Riley. Not me. I understand why you did what you did. It wasn't your fault." 

"Liam ..." 

"Riley, I know how difficult it was for you. How painful. But I am so glad that you found the strength to return to me, and with our son. You are a wonderful mother, and I can't imagine my life without you and William in it."

"I love you, Liam,"her lip quivering. 

"And I love you, Riley," he replied. "More Than you will ever know."

"Always," she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder. 

"Always, my love." 

The two of them stood there, watching the sun set over the water, holding each other close. 

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"  Liam turned to kiss Riley's forehead.

"Yes. It is." 

Liam looks down and smiled. "I have a surprise for you." 

Leading Riley further along the bridge she sees a wicker basket sitting on the paving stones. Liam pulls a small blanket from the basket and spreads it out. As she settled down on the blanket, Liam pulled a bottle of champagne from the basket, followed by two flutes, a loaf of crisp bread, and several rounds of cheese. 

Riley smiled. "Wow, Liam. This is quite the spread. And very familiar." 

Liam deftly pops the cork and pours two glasses of champagne. He hands one to Riley, and then raises his own. 

"To you, Riley. The most unforgettable woman I've ever met." 

"To you, Liam. Meeting you changed my life. But out of all the places I've been and the things I've done since then, the best part has been getting to know you." 

"That's more of a toast than I deserve, Riley, but, thank you." 

Clinking glasss they each take a sip. There is a faint hint of mint and lemon to the cool, bubbly drink. 

"Liam, how long have you been planning this?"

"A few days." 

Riley sips her champagne. The sweet and bubbly alcohol is warming. 

"How did you manage to sneak a whole picnic out here without anyone seeing you?" 

Liam chuckles. "A king can do many things." 

"Like bribe the French palace staff?" 

Liam laughs. "Perhaps. But no, I was simply able to utilize my authority. And I can assure you, no one will disturb us. This bridge is closed to traffic." 

Riley looked up at him, incredulous. "How did you manage that?" 

"With great difficulty." Liam winks mischievously. 

She raised her eyebrows. 

"I have connections," Liam says with a smirk. 

"So, you pulled some strings, and now we have a private bridge all to ourselves?" 

"Indeed." Liam responds sheepishly.

Riley took another sip of champagne. "I must say, this is quite impressive." 

"I thought it would be nice to have a moment alone together, away from prying eyes and listening ears."

"I'm glad you did."  Riley giggled.

"Good," Liam says, pouring more champagne into her glass. 

"So, what do we have here?" 

"Well, we have champagne, of course," Liam says, motioning to the bottle. "And then we have some delicious cheese, courtesy of France. And a fresh baguette, still warm from the bakery." 

"This is amazing, Liam. Thank you." 

"It's my pleasure, Riley." 

Once the food is gone and the blanket and glasses are put away, Liam takes the basket under one arm and offers you the other.  

"I believe tradition requires that we continue our evening with a stroll, my lady." 

As Liam and Riley walked along the Seine, more and more locks could be seen hooked through the railing.

As she looked down at the locks, Riley couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness in her heart. 

They were symbols of love and hope and somewhere in the sea of locks, Riley knew their lock was still locked in place. She bent down to take a closer look.

A reminder her of a time she had tried so hard to forget. 

...Remember When... 

"Thank you, Riley. With so little permanence in this world, there will always be this little lock on this bridge just for the two of us. I want to believe it will be here forever, no matter what else happens to us." 

Riley's eyes filled with tears with this memory from years ago.   

"Riley, my love..." 

Wiping her tears she stood and turned ...and gasped --as she watched Liam drop down onto one knee before her. 

"Liam?" 

"Riley, you are my heart and soul. You're the reason I wake up every morning. You're the reason I smile. I cannot imagine a life without you by my side. You've stood beside me through the hardest moments of my life, and you've never once wavered. You've given me the strength to face my fears, and you've shown me that true love can conquer anything. I want to spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you." 

He opened his hand, and she saw a small, black velvet box sitting on his palm. 

"Liam ..." 

With steady hands, he opened the box to reveal a stunning diamond engagement ring. 

"Riley Louise, will you marry me?" 

"Yes!" She exclaimed. "Yes! ... A thousand times, yes!" 

"Really?" 

"Of course," she tearfully replied. 

Liam beamed as he slid the ring onto her finger. 

"I love you, Riley." 

"I love you too, Liam." 

Tears ran down her cheeks as she leaned forward, kissing him passionately. 

She was his. 

Forever. 

As they kissed, her heart was bursting with joy. 

This was the happiest moment of her life. 

They stood on the bridge for what felt like hours, locked in each other's arms. 

"So, we're really going to do this, huh?"  Liam looked intentedly at Riley, trying to stop his smile.

"What, get married?"  Riley giggled.

"Yeah," he said. "It seems crazy, but I've never been surer of anything."  Liam started to kiss down the side of her neck, pausing to gently nip her skin.

"Ohhhhh .... me neither."  Riley moaned as he squeezed her ass pulling her flush against him.

"Let's get out of here," he growled, leading Riley back to the hotel.

Fontainebleau cliff (outside Paris)

At Maxwell’s request, William, along with his nephew Bartie was joining Drake for a camping trip outside of the city...on the condition that Bastien would be included...at Liam's insistence.

"This is going to be great," Maxwell said. "I can't wait for a boys' night." 

After a few hours of driving, and a long hike later ... Maxwell, Drake, William, Bartie and Bastien arrive at a cliff overlooking the lake. 

Maxwell sets his backpack down. "All right, guys. Let's make camp." 

"I thought you said we were going camping," Bartie says. 

"This is camping," Maxwell replies. 

"No, this is a cliff. There are no trees or tents or anything." 

"We're in the middle of nature. What more do you need?" 

"Um, a place to sleep?"  Bartie replies dryly.

"I got that covered," Drake says, pulling a bundle of canvas from his backpack. He unfolds the fabric, revealing a large tent. 

"You brought a tent?" Maxwell asks. 

"Of course. What did you think we were going to do, sleep under the stars?" 

"Well, yeah."  Maxwell answered.

Drake shook his head, thinking it was a good idea to teach these nobles a thing of two about camping.

"No way. That's how you get eaten by bears." 

William looked up at Bastien, questioningly. 

"Don't worry, William," Bastien says. "I have an excellent track record for keeping the royal family safe from bears." 

"Okay, everyone. Let's get this tent set up," Drake rolled his eyes knowing he had to take the lead. 

With the tent secured, the group thrn gathered wood to start a fire. 

"Now, we can finally start having fun," Maxwell says. 

"First things, first... who is hungry?" 

William and Bartie look up at Drake.

"We are," they reply in unison. 

"Who wants s'mores?" Drake grins. 

"Yum," William exclaims. 

"I don't know what that is, but I'm in," Bartie adds. 

"S'mores are a camping classic. They're made with marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers. I guess your father hasn't taken you camping yet?" Drake shakes his head at Bartie.

"Ha, too funny!" Maxwell laughs. "Drake is an expert on s'mores." 

"What do you mean?" William asks. 

"Well," Maxwell begins. "S'mores are the only food that your uncle Drake can make. So, when we go camping, we have a lot of them." 

"That's not true," Drake scoffs. "I can cook other things, too. Like, hot dogs. And hamburgers." 

"You heat those things up. That doesn't count," Maxwell argues. 

"Okay, fine. But I can make a mean cup of coffee over the fire." 

"That's true," Maxwell admits. "But you still can't cook anything else." 

"Whatever," Drake says, rolling his eyes. 

The group laughs as they begin to roast their marshmallows over the crackling fire. 

Thank you for reading, tags are in the comments. Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from tags.

@choicesficwriterscreations

[masked-alien-lesbian]

Hana Lee x Raelyn

Tale as old as time

Song as old as rhyme

Beauty and the Beast

Legend has it that the old castle houses a fearsome beast. That is why no one is brave enough to approach the castle. But the beast wasn't always a beast. Once they were a Prince cursed by a witch. Years ago a princess came to court the prince but was surprised that the prince was not a man. Prince Raelyn offered her a rose but the cruel princess threw the rose back at them before unveiling herself to be actually a witch.

"For your trickery, I curse you to this beastly form. May you roam these halls alone, forever seeking the love you so long to have. Your appearance to match your true nature," the witch says before she turned the prince into an amalgamation of several wild animals. The witch's cruelty knew no bounds and the Prince's loved ones were cursed as well, bodies of flesh turned into everyday objects.

The prince, now a beast, shut out the whole world, in their despair retreated deep into the castle. For who could ever learn to love a beast?

Hana Lee ran to the one place she knew her parents and her fiancé would never find her. The beasts castle. Forced into a loveless arranged marriage, she runs away the night before her wedding. Once there she finds that the castle is not as abandoned as she thought. She finds friends in the cursed objects and a safe refuge from the outside world. Now if only she could thank the mysterious elusive master of the castle.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Thank you so much @sazanes! You're literally the best! 😁

[fadingreveries]

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

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

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

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

Word Count:

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

~ ~ ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ ~ ~

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

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

[karahalloway]

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 18 - Diplomatica

Fandom: TRR

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

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

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

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

Word Count: 5,300

Rating/Warnings: None (for once 🤣)

Chapter theme song:

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

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

Chapter 18 - Diplomatica

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

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

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

No wonder it feels like the inside of a furnace!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I heave a breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing lasts like this anymore...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Il Circo Massimo," he advises.

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

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

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

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

Rome really is the Eternal City...

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

"Il Vittoriano," Vito offers without prompting.

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

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

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

"Oh," I mutter sheepishly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why?"

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

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

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

"I... No," I admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It really is a—"

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

Christian's nostrils flare with the briefest flash of irritation as he pulls back slightly. "Quite. Let us go make the necessary introductions."

Madeleine bristles. "That is not what I—"

Deftly ignoring her, Christian extends his arm decisively towards an elderly man wearing a sombre suit and gold-rimmed glasses. "Shall we?"

"I guess so?" I concede, already feeling myself being steered past the silently fuming countess.

"Now remember," Bertrand mutters next to me as Christian leads us down the length of the room. "In the context of a formal conversation, it is always lei — never tu — when addressing your counterpart, so for the love of all that is holy, please do not—"

"Singor Presidente," proclaims Christian as he pulls to a stop. "Permettetemi di presentarvi altri membri della nostra delegazione."

The President raises his head dutifully. "Certamente."

"Questo è Singor Bertrand Beaumont, duca di Ramsford, e suo fratello, Maxwell."

The Beaumonts bow their heads dutifully.

"Beaumont..." the President frowns. "Sai, mi suona familiare. Sei parente di Signor Bartholemy, per caso?"

"Sì," Bertrand confirms. "Egli è nostro padre."

The President is nodding in recollection. "Sì... sì... Ha accompagnato il re precedente in molte occasioni. Sei molto simile a lui."

"Sì, la somiglianza di famiglia è forte," Bertrand acknowledges.

"E questa è Singorina Olivia Nevrakis, duchessa di Lythikos, un mio carissimo amico, e fedele sostenitrice del famiglia Rys."

Olivia holds out her hand. "E' un piacere conoscerla, Signore Presidente."

The President drops a chaste kiss on the back of her hand. "Il piacere è tutto mio."

"E finalmente," concludes Christian, "questa è Singorina Harper, la nuova duchessa di Valtoria."

The President's brows arc inquisitively. "Singorina Harper... You are... American? No?"

"Sì," I affirm as I offer my hand out. "Ma ho praticato mio Italiano..."

The President's mouth cracks into a genuine smile. "And you are doing very well, Singorina! Tell me, have you visited la città eterna before?"

"No, this is my first time," I admit, also switching to English, now that the formalities are over and done with. "But even the ride from the airport was utterly magical! It's like stepping into history!"

"Sì," the President affirms with a grin. "Us Romans are unspeakably lucky to be able to call such a beautiful city our home. It is a place of many treasures."

"What is your favourite part of the city?" I ask.

The President blinks in surprise at the unexpected intimacy of the request. "That is a difficult question... But if I am forced to choose... it would have to be this little forno next to la Fontana di Trevi which makes a very unique — and very delicious — pistachio croissant. It is not for every person, but if you have a spirit of adventure, then I suggest you try it."

"Thank you," I say with a sincere smile, filing the suggestion away. "I definitely will!"

"I cannot say that I have had the pleasure of sampling this treat, either," Christian admits, with a knowing glance down at me. "But Lady Harper has excellent taste in pastries — she was actually kind enough to introduce us to an American delicacy called a cronut. It was a big hit all around."

"A cronut?" queries the President. "I cannot say I am familiar..."

"Don't worry," Maxwell assures him with a conspiratorial grin. "We'll bring you one. If you'll trade us some bomboloni in exchange?"

Bertrand's already sunburnt face reddens further. "Maxwell! You cannot entreat the President t—"

"You like bomboloni, also?" interjects the President with keen interest.

"Of course!" Maxwell affirms enthusiastically. "Anyone who doesn't like them clearly has something wrong with them!"

"Sounds like you have excellent taste in pastries as well, Signore Maxwell!" chuckles the President.

The conversation continues to revolve around our shared food interests for a few more minutes, until an aide clears his throat from behind the President.

"Accettare le mie scuse," he apologises. "But I am being advised that it is time for the photographs and the speeches."

"Of course," nods Christian graciously, indicating that the President should lead the way to the front of the room where a small podium has been set up.

As the two men peel away from the group, I cast my eyes 'round the space and spot Hana standing by one of the large windows. Giving her a wave, I use the brief break in the proceedings to make my way over to her.

"So, what's the view like from this side of the room?" I ask by way of greeting.

"Quieter than your side," she admits wryly. "You certainly seemed to be having an engaging conversation with the President!"

"We discovered a shared love for sugary treats," I admit. "You should've joined us — you could've bragged about that baking championship that you won."

"It's alright," she demurs with a blush. "It's actually been nice to take a moment to step away from the crowd."

"Oh?" I ask, laying a concerned hand on her arm. "Is something wrong?"

She heaves a breath, as if debating whether to tell me. Finally, she says, "I have been fending off suitors."

My brow shoots skywards. "How many proposals have you had?"

"Since I arrived...? Probably twelve..."

My eyes bulge. "Twelve! That's like two a day!"

"Yes," she concedes with a weary exhale. "Lady Madeleine has been extremely gracious in personally introducing me to numerous eligible bachelors—"

"—but none of them are Maxwell," I surmise.

Her eyes flick up to mine before dropping back down sorrowfully. "No. But for the sake of my parents, I must entertain every available option in an honest manner."

"That definitely sounds exhausting..." I concede. "But hopefully now that we're out of the country, you can catch a bit of a break."

"I am not so sure..." she admits. "I have been advised that a number of well-connected Italians will be in attendance at the opera tonight..."

"Pfft...!" I scoff. "Just take the night off... Pretend to be sick... Run off with Maxwell to get some gelato... Actually enjoy being in Italy!"

Hana blushes. "I—"

The chime of a bell rings out across the room, interrupting our conversation.

Looking up, I see that all heads have turned dutifully towards the twin forms standing on the dais as they prepare to address the congregation.

"Vostra Altezza Reale, colleghi delegati, Signore e Signori," greets the President, "È un onore, per me, ospitare la delegazione reale di Cordonia, nostro vicino e stretto alleato per centinaia di anni. È passato troppo tempo da—"

As the speech winds on, I find myself tuning out, given that I am only able to understand every third or fourth word. But, not wanting to come across as rude by continuing my catch-up with Hana, I instead try to occupy myself by examining the two large tapestries suspended on the walls.

A round of applause draws me out of my reverie, and I join in on auto-pilot as the President hands off to Christian. Several more minutes of lilting Italian fills the room, during which time I move my attentions to the Roman-looking busts, wondering which emperors they depict.

Finally, the speeches come to a close, and I heave a sigh of relief.

"Did you understand any of that?" I ask Hana as the President presents Christian with some kind of medal, and the two men pose for photos.

"Of course," she nods. "My parents—"

"—have been giving you Italian lessons since before you could talk?" I finish dryly.

Hana's cheeks dimple. "Not quite that young, but yes. I am what they consider 'proficient'."

"Meaning, you speak it better than I speak English," I joke.

She snorts in response. "I wouldn't say that..."

"But it's true," I say with a smirk, happy to see that Hana's time back at court has not completely crushed her sense of humour.

"Ah, I've missed talking to you, Harper," she says with genuine feeling. "The last few days have felt so busy that I feel like we haven't spoken in months!"

"Yeah, tell me about it..." I agree with a huff. "In the space of a week, I've become a Cordonian citizen, been granted a duchy, gone from number five to number one on Madeleine's shit list, and—"

Hana's eyes widen. "It's not that bad, surely...!"

"It's probably worse," I admit. "And being on the front page of the Cordonian Sun — again — is probably not helping matters either..."

"Yes, I saw that article..." she commiserates with feeling. "I'm sorry that the press are treating you in that manner again."

"Hey, it's not your fault," I assure her. "But the press aren't all bad — I managed to convince Ana de Luca to help us track down the photographer who took those pictures of me and Tariq, and she actually came through yesterday."

"That's great!" she enthuses. "I have to admit that I have not had much success on my side... Madeleine does not permit her ladies-in-waiting to handle any of her private correspondence, including her mobile phones and laptop. And she has only talked to us about the upcoming events on the tour..."

"Well, it was a bit of a long-shot, anyway," I concede with a shrug. "But who knows? We might get—"

"Pardon," interrupts Kiara with a pointed cough. "But the Queen requests your presence."

I roll my eyes with a scoff. "She's not married to Christian yet..."

"But she will be soon," she reminds me pointedly. "So, it is actuellement in your interest to remain on her good side, given that you are now a duchess."

I feel the corner of my mouth scrunch into a mou of dissent, but I force myself not to pick apart the many things that are wrong with her statement. "Fine. Where is Her Majesty?"

"Bidding adieu to the President," she advises. "She has asked that in the meantime I gather the ladies who are to accompany her to the wedding boutique."

"Does she really need an entourage to go shopping?" I ask as we start making our way back to the double doors at the far end of the room.

"It is tradition for the suitors who were not picked at the end of the social season to assist the queen-to-be in the preparations for the wedding, including selecting her bridal gown and trousseau."

"Wonder how many times that's gone wrong before..." I mutter under my breath.

"It is a ritual de beaucoup d'importance," Kiara insists seriously. "The former suitors — and their families — demonstrate their public support for the union via the personal assistance they provide the bride and groom in the lead-up to the big day, as well as in the act of taking on key roles during the ceremony itself."

"Let me guess..." I grumble. "We're all going to be maids of honour, too..."

"In Cordonia, the correct term is 'witness'," she corrects. "They are the ones chosen by the couple to countersign the marriage certificate. Mais oui — it is likely that one or two of us will be called upon in such a manner."

"Great..." I sigh, arriving at the entranceway where Penelope and Olivia are already waiting. "All the things we get to look forward to..."

"Oh, Lady Harper!" squeals Penelope in excitement. "I love your dress! How do you always manage to find such super chic pieces?"

"Uhh..." I say, genuinely taken aback by her enthusiasm. "Bertrand picked this, actually..."

Olivia snorts derisively. "You mean Lord Tweedle-Dee? Please... That man has worse fashion sense than Jared Leto."

"Actually, he—"

"If you lot are quite finished with your asinine chit-chit," snaps Madeline as she strides imperiously past us, "you can pick up your feet. We are already running late for my appointment... Which took months to schedule, so don't you dare make me miss it!"

I meet Hana's gaze with a fish-eyed look. "Ever heard the term 'bridezilla' before?"

"No," she admits with a frown. "But it sounds scary..."

"Oh, trust me!" I assure her as we bring up the rear. "It is! Especially since it sounds like Madeleine is planning to take the concept to a whole 'nother level..."

The story continues in Chapter 19: Field Day

A/N: Translations for the Italian below:

At the airport: Andiamo - Let's go

Certamente, Duchessa - Certainly, Duchess

En route Lemura aureliane. Costruitadall'imperatore Aureliano per difendere Roma dai barbari. - The Aurelian Wall. It was constructed by the Emperor Aurelian to defend Rome against barbarians.

Il Circo Massimo - The Circus Maximus

Sì. L'antico stadio romano costruito per le corsedei carri. - Yes. The ancient Roman stadium constructed for chariot racing.

Il Vittoriano - This is a colloquial nickname for the Monument to Victor Emmanuel II

At the Presidential Palace Singor Presidente. Permettetemi di presentarvi altri membri della nostra delegazione. - Mr President. Allow me to introduce some additional members of our delegation.

Certamente - Certainly

Questo è Singor Bertrand Beaumont, duca di Ramsford, e suo fratello, Maxwell. - This is Lord Bertrand Beaumont, Duke of Ramsford, and his brother, Maxwell.

Beaumont... Sai, mi suona familiare. Sei parente di Signor Bartholemy, per caso? - Beaumont... You know, that sounds familiar. Are you related to Lord Bartholemy, by chance?

Sì. Egli è nostro padre. - Yes. He is our father.

Sì...sì... Ha accompagnato il re precedente in molte occasioni. Sei molto simile a lui. - Yes... Yes... He accompanied the former king on many occasions. You look a lot like him.

Sì, la somiglianza di famiglia è forte. - Yes, there is a notable family resemblance.

E questaè Singorina Olivia Nevrakis, duchessa di Lythikos,un mio carissimo amico, e fedele sostenitrice del famiglia Rys. - And this is Lady Olivia Nevrakis, Duchess of Lythikos, a dear friend of mine, and loyal supporter of the Rys family.

E' un piacere conoscerla, Signore Presidente. - My sincere pleasure, Mr President.

Il piacere è tutto mio. - The pleasure is all mine.

E finalmente, questa è Singorina Harper, la nuova duchessa di Valtoria. - And finally, this is Lady Harper, the new Duchess of Valtoria.

Sì. Ma hopraticato mio Italiano.* - Yes. But I am practising my Italian. *Italian speakers will note that there is a grammatical mistake here (the correct phrasing is 'Ho praticato il mio italiano'). However, the mistake is deliberate because Harper learnt Italian literally an hour ago, so she's not going to be perfect at it!

La città eterna - the Eternal City (nickname for Rome)

Accettare le mie scuse - [Please] Accept my apologies.

Vostra Altezza Reale, colleghi delegati, Signore e Signori. È un onore, per me, ospitare la delegazionereale di Cordonia, nostro vicino e stretto alleato per centinaia di anni. Èpassato troppo tempo da— Your Royal Highness, fellow delegates, ladies and gentlemen. It is my honour to host the royal delegation of Cordonia, our neighbour and ally for many centuries. It has been far too long since—

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Ghosted

Ghosted - Always Watching (Chapter 8)

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

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

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

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

The morning after the discovery of the maid’s body, Liam sat with Olivia, Drake, and Maxwell inside the study at the Applewood estate. Liam canceled the barn raising scheduled for the day early that morning. He told the press it was because of inclement weather, which was not necessarily a lie, although it wasn’t the entire truth. 

Liam realized they could not keep the murder under wraps forever. Only a few people knew the real reason for the cancellation, including those in the safe room, Drake, Olivia, Maxwell, and the guards. He planned to keep it that way until they knew who was responsible, and then he would happily release that information to the public. He visited with Rhonda’s family briefly and told her husband they would receive a stipend from the crown, as well as college funds for her children. 

They all believed that the incidents shared a relation; the only steady lead they had regarding Riley wound up dead days later, and that was no coincidence for anyone. Olivia explained to Liam in great detail her observations at the crime scene; after hearing her retelling, he too believed the area was staged, but he couldn’t make too many conclusions until Bastien presented him with the evidence. 

The bloodied dress put a sense of urgency on things, but the murder really made everything more critical. Whoever was behind this was clearly not playing a game and didn’t want their plan to be uncovered. He was growing restless, not knowing the extent to which this treachery ran. 

It appalled him that all of this happened right under his nose. The doubts about the narrative against Riley were always there, but this runs deeper than just wanting a particular woman to sit on the throne as Queen. Whoever orchestrated all of this was an enemy of the Crown, and Liam was determined to rid that negativity of his court. 

Another part of his impatience was purely the need to see with his own eyes that Riley was safe. The guilt he felt for turning his back on her crept up on him at random times throughout the day, but he was trying to push that aside and focus on locating her at any cost. He hoped that whoever was responsible hadn’t been able to locate her either; he prayed with everything in him that after she arrived in New York, she found a safe place to retreat, far away from the turmoil that was unraveling around him. 

“OH! What about this one?” Maxwell exclaimed, as he sat next to Drake and scrolled through an online catalog of outfits for an upcoming gala.  

Drake rolled his eyes. “Please stop showing me this crap. S’long as you wear something, I don’t really give a shit what you show up in.” 

“What are you going to wear?”

“Clothes, most likely.”

“Clothes, most likely.” Maxwell mocked under his breath. 

“What was that?” Drake snapped. 

“Nothing! Oh, this has a matching one! Look! Ohmygosh we could match! Twins!” Maxwell exclaimed as he once again shoved his phone in Drake’s face. 

Drake grimaced at the sight before him. It was a set of bright blue ocean wave suits, complete with a bright orange squid bow tie. “God, no. Not even if you paid me.” He replied as he shook his head. 

“Oh, come on, Walker. You can be a sea creature instead of one who drags his knuckles on the ground.” Olivia added with a smirk. 

Drake flipped her off. “Fuck. You.” 

Olivia snickered. “I’d rather take a lava bath, but thanks.” 

“I’ll see if Bertrand will match me,” Maxwell said with a mischievous grin. 

“Good luck with that, Beaumont,” Drake answered. 

“It could go better than you think, honestly. He’s been super nice to me ever since we told him about all this stuff with Riley. I miiiiight be able to get him to do it.” 

“I’m taking pictures if it happens, hands down,” Drake chuckled. 

Olivia subtly rolled her eyes. “Stay away from me, regardless of what you wear. You too, Walker.” 

“Way ahead of you there, Ice Duchess.” 

Liam stayed quiet; although he still held rage with Bertrand and his tasteless actions, he hadn’t given his status as Duke much thought. Although it had not left his mind, for now, especially for Maxwell’s sake, he was keeping his inner thoughts to himself. 

A knock interrupted them from their uplifted moment. Liam stood and granted them entrance, and Bastien appeared with a bow. “Your Majesty, I was hoping to give you an update on the homicide.” 

“Of course.” 

“We have no clear suspects. However, we discovered a murder weapon.”

Olivia’s ears perked up from her seat, and Liam’s eyes widened. “You did?” 

“Yes, sir. We found it in the woods near the area, and I sent it off for analysis. It was a black knife with gold trimmings; I believe it to be the same one used in the earlier ceremony that night.” Bastien held out a folder to Liam, who accepted it and started looking through it immediately.  

The picture at the start revealed the murder weapon, which was the same knife used to cut the apple with Madeleine, but covered in blood from the tip to the hilt. He flipped further and felt his stomach churn at the images of the crime scene. The first few photos were of the maid’s face and he could recognize her, but barely. As he proceeded, he suddenly pulled the file away from his face with a grimace as he saw the cause of death photographed.

“I apologize, sir. I should have given you a warning beforehand.” 

Liam swallowed thickly and with a deep breath resumed, but a tad more prepared for the sight this time. “My God…” He gasped. “What – How – I –” He stammered before closing his mouth with a shake of his head.  

“We still don’t know a lot, sir, as it’s still the early stages of investigating. But we are working around the clock to ensure we receive a solution promptly. Obviously, we’re certain the cause of death was the wound in the jugular, however, we have sent the body for analysis as well. When I spoke with the other staff, they recalled seeing her earlier in the day, but her whereabouts past three p.m. are unknown.” 

“Is that everything?” 

“For now, yes. I will let you know something else as soon as I know.” 

Liam resumed his venture through the folder and furrowed his brows at some of the random items photographed as evidence; the things Olivia noted were present, as well as what appeared to be a cap for a tube of lipstick with a clear set of fingerprints. Of course, the suspect could have dropped the item, but it seemed conveniently placed within the other markers. The only thing that implied relevance was a bloodied shoe print. He could tell it was a woman’s, as the base was short and narrow, not to mention the pinpoint of a heel. However, it was still an odd discovery given that there appeared to be no other signs of blood anywhere else except on the body itself. “Bastien, are you questioning the legitimacy of this crime scene? At all? I see multiple red flags here just at first glance.”  

“We found a few things out of the ordinary, but I have sent everything for analysis. I’m confident either way, the forensics will produce some kind of answer.”

Liam nodded, sufficed by his response. “Have you looked for Riley? Or Tariq?” 

“I have attempted but have found no new leads. However, I am still continuing even with arrangements for the tour and the homicide investigation. I am doing everything in my power to provide you with some answers.” 

“Thank you, Bastien. Just… keep me updated…” Bastien nodded and bowed before he exited. As he did, Liam stood staring blankly at the door behind him, his mind a jumbled mess of chaos that seemed to only get worse by the day. 

Drake cautiously approached Liam. “You alright, man?” 

Liam laughed sardonically. “No, Drake, I’m not… How am I just supposed to wait? How long is it going to take Bastien to find something?”

“I’m not sure, but what else can we do?” 

Liam ran a hand down his face and let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know. If I did, we’d be doing it.” He snapped, but immediately caught himself and retracted. “Sorry, Drake. I’m just…” 

“Na, it’s cool. I get it. I wish there was something we could do, but… it sounds like we’re just waiting until Bastien can get those reports back.” 

“Goddamnit,” Liam growled as he slammed his fist down on the desk he stood beside. “I– I can’t just sit here and wait. I need to do something now."

“Perhaps we should seek outside help,” Olivia interjected. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I have an acquaintance who is somewhat of a… ‘private investigator’. He’s not cheap, but he’s worth every penny. He can look into Riley and Tariq’s locations, for sure, as well as whatever else you may see fit…” 

“I’m not against the idea… but how would that even work?” 

“We can figure out the details later, but I have somewhat of a cover already thought of. I can easily say he’s my driver, or bodyguard, or anything, really. Who’s going to question me? Honestly?” 

“Much as I hate to admit it, maybe she’s onto something, Li,” Drake interjected with a sour face. “Bas clearly has his hands full, and I know you wanna get some kind of answer.”

“See? Even the cave dweller agrees!” Olivia exclaimed, earning her a middle finger from Drake. “Plus, perhaps having another set of capable eyes around will do us some good.”

“I want to agree, I really do. It’s just… the last person to get involved with this was… well, you know. Do we really want to put someone else in danger like that?”

Olivia snickered. “It’s cute of you to worry, but he’s more than capable of defending himself.” 

“I don’t know…”

“Do it, Liam! DO IT! Or I will myself!” Maxwell exclaimed. 

“No offense, but how are you gonna pay him?” Drake asked. 

“Perhaps he would be interested in a one-on-one interpretive dance class; we could trade one service for another.”

“Hate to break it to you, but your dance class ain’t worth shit.” 

Olivia rolled her eyes but approached Liam and blocked Maxwell and Drake from view, forcing him to focus on her. Of course, her top priority was ensuring Riley’s safety, but in addition, she had her own questions regarding her blackmail. She would help Liam with anything, but this was more than merely a favor; it was personal. However, Bastien’s competency was undoubtedly questionable in Olivia’s mind. She couldn’t rule him out as a suspect, but she didn’t exactly have something concrete to tie him to anything. For the time being, she needed a second set of capable hands.

“Liam, we have to act on this now. Whoever did this is actively covering their tracks. If we don’t do something, we may never figure this out.” Olivia pleaded.

Liam swallowed thickly and kept his gaze trained on the floor. “I know…” 

“So, let my associate come and assist us. If he doesn’t provide answers, I’ll pay his service fees out of pocket. But of course, I’ll be working alongside him.” 

“I trust you, Olivia, I do. However, I’m worried that putting another person into the equation may end up biting us in the ass in the long run.” 

“I understand, but again, he’s highly trained and knows what he’s doing. All we have to do is keep his cover intact until we can locate one of them. We can’t tip the mastermind off and give them an opportunity to bury this deeper. As long as everyone in this room keeps their mouth shut about his true purpose, we should have no issues.” 

Liam looked away with a heavy sigh; although he remained hesitant to add another person to this mess, the thought of getting any kind of answer outweighed any con he could think of. And, he trusted Olivia to steer him correctly. He finally said, “Okay, do it...” 

“I already did, Liam. He’ll be in the country this evening, hopefully,” Olivia smirked. “Now, we need to address the next order of business…” she trailed off as she approached the window and stared out. “Whoever did this killed that maid to send us a message; I think we need to send one back.”

Liam’s jaw fell open. “What?! Why would you think that, Olivia? We–”

Olivia held her hand up to stop him. “Let me finish; we need to send a message while doing ourselves a favor. The tour leaves for Italy in four days, but that can not happen, Liam.” 

Liam furrowed his brows. “You want me to cancel the tour?” 

“No, I want you to rebuild it to stay in the country. Think about it; you’re technically still going along with their plans, but perhaps throwing a wrench into them. You’re showing that you’re willing to play along for now, but you won’t back down entirely like they assume you’ll do.” 

Liam shook his head. “I don’t think that’s smart, Olivia. We don’t know what they’re capable of or what lengths they’ll go to.” 

“I’m aware of that, but it’s not like you’re canceling everything; you’re simply rerouting, so to speak. The results will still be the same; you’ll ‘marry Madeleine.’ How you get there shouldn’t matter.”

“Isn’t that suspicious? To suddenly keep the tour within the country?”

“It would be, but I thought ahead and I think I have a decent proposal laid out.” Olivia produced a file and handed it to Liam. “How are we going to figure this out internationally? We have to stay here…”

Liam opened the folder and saw a detailed explanation for the sudden changes, as well as a list of future events to be held within the duchies. “Wow,” He responded with wide eyes. “This – this is convincing, and you’ve practically already planned everything… When did you have time for all this?”  

“Last night. I wanted to come and find you right after Walker and I left the crime scene, but I assumed my plan would get a stronger reaction if I laid it out for you. All you have to do is make the calls…”

“I think it’s a solid move, Li,” Drake interjected. “You’re standing your ground but yet still giving the appearance that you’re moving forward for the ‘greater good of Cordonia.’ I’ll help you take care of anything you need help with, or try to at least. But she’s right; we won’t find any more information about what happened to Brooks globe-trotting.” 

“Trust me, I don’t want to leave, but we already set these events! What am I supposed to do to–” 

“You need to pull your head out of your ass, Liam.” Olivia interrupted. “You’re the King and I think this would be a lot easier if you’d start acting like it.” She saw Liam contemplating her statement and stepped closer to him with narrowed eyes. “It’s time you put your fucking Crown on and show these assholes that you won’t back down. What’s really important to you here, Liam? Do you want to figure this out, or are you going to let them use your duty to control you – again? I lay the plan out for you and when my associate joins us, we are that much more prepared if they were to strike back, but we can’t pussyfoot around anymore. You wanted to do something now, so do it.” 

Liam stared at her for a long moment as her words echoed in his mind and a newfound determination took over him. His nostrils flared as his hands balled into fists at his sides. The bright blue orbs that were previously dimmed seemed to darken even further. Olivia was right; this was his country, his call, and the ball was now in his court.

Liam never said a word, but soon marched over to the desk and picked up the phone. He listened intently until someone answered the other end of the line. “Buonasera, Francesco. I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel our pre-scheduled festivities...” 

Liam, Drake, and Maxwell worked the rest of the day and into the evening to cancel all the tour’s events, and were well on their way to planning what Olivia had mapped out. With the newly produced schedule, they would have much more time to focus on their investigation while still keeping the same number of events as before.

Liam’s determination in his decision stood firm, however, he couldn’t deny feeling apprehensive as well. He was sure there would be retaliation in some form and was unsure as to just how far they would go. However, the power he felt at that moment was something he wasn’t used to. Since his ascension, he’d signed treaties and other small documents, but this was the first time he was going to assert his authority in such a large capacity. Adrenaline ran through his veins and for the first time, he felt like a King. 

The door to the study was suddenly flung open without warning, startling everyone inside. Madeleine marched into the room with a red face. “What the hell, Liam?!” Constantine trailed not far behind her, although his expression was one more of confusion than anger. 

“Ah, I take it you’ve learned of our changes?”

“There will be no changes! We’ve had this planned for weeks! We’re not canceling within a few days–”

“I already did.”

The color drained from Madeleine’s face. “No, you didn’t.” 

Liam indignantly laughed. “Oh, I sure did.” 

Madeleine’s cheeks heated further, nearly purple. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Constantine put a gentle hand on Madeleine’s shoulder. “Language.” He scolded. Madeleine stepped back with her arms crossed over her chest. “Liam, I want to believe you’re not doing all of this for an irrational reason.”

“I’m simply doing what’s best for Cordonia.” Liam shrugged. 

Madeleine scoffed and shook her head. "Unbelievable! Have you completely lost your mind? How is this what’s best for anyone?!” 

Constantine turned and gave her a warning glance. “Although I do not agree with her delivery, I echo Countess Madeleine’s question.” 

“First off, explain to me how an international tour is beneficial to Cordonia at this current moment. The only event that even made a difference was the charity banquet in Paris; the rest of it was just a bunch of bullshit. This way, we can rally our people behind us.” 

“It was for publicity, Liam!” Madeleine exasperated. “We need to worry about our international standings, which are going to be shit now that you’ve–” 

“Our key priority is the Cordonian people. My father pointed out to me that the citizens doubt our union already, and I can’t say I blame them. It isn’t a secret that you weren't my first choice, not even the second.” Liam had to hide his smile as he stood from his seat and crossed the room to stand in front of Madeleine. 

He forced the softest tone he could when he spoke again. “I want to do everything I can to ensure this works. I know I haven’t done my part, but this is my first step in making amends. Although the international publicity would be good, we need our homeland’s support more. We can enlist in media coverage so we can still get the word out, but Madeleine, we need to stay here. Cordonia needs us right now; Cordonia needs to see its future leaders united. We have to show them we are going to lead them together.” He swallowed down the lump of bile in his throat. 

Constantine observed Liam’s body language during their interaction. Never had he seen him so confident about a decision; he looked regal, authoritative, not a hint of doubt to be present. Liam made undeniable points, and he had preached to both of them to do more to keep the people's faith in their union. However, he couldn’t help but feel like Liam could have ulterior motives for the sudden change. 

Constantine arched his brow. “That’s why you’re doing this?” 

“Yes, father. I just want to ensure the right people are supporting us. We need strength internally. I’ve adapted all the best traditions into our stops along the tour to honor those who have come before us. And, well–” Liam sighed and looked away. “I need to show the Cordonian people I am in the right mind to lead them. They’ve questioned me since my coronation. I have to show them I can do this… I can’t do that from Italy or Paris...” 

Constantine eyed Liam sternly for a long moment. Throughout his life, he could force Liam to break with only a glance. It never worked on Leo, but Liam always cracked under the pressure if he was hiding something. However, Liam showed no signs of hesitation and there were no slips in his facade. He looked regal, poised, composed, calm, and firm, with just a hint of vulnerability. Since he passed the signet ring to Liam, he was practically begging him to get his head together, and the man standing in front of him appeared to be doing just that.  

Liam knew exactly what Constantine was doing as soon as his brow arched. It’s the same glare that had gotten him into trouble multiple times growing up and he expected to endure the stare as soon as he told his father the news. It took all of his restraint, but he never let his carefully placed expression stray from his features. He silently prayed Constantine couldn’t notice the sweat profusely forming in his palms, though. 

After a long moment, Constantine’s face broke out into a small smile. He stepped forward and patted Liam on the shoulder. “I believe this is an excellent idea, son. You have my full support.” 

Liam had to fight hard to hide his surprise. He expected more of a fight from Constantine, but perhaps Olivia provided the perfect excuse. He slightly bowed and said, “Thank you, father.” 

“Let me know if you require any support in the plans.”

“Thank you, but we’re nearly finished.” Liam turned to Madeleine, who stood with her arms still crossed over her chest. “What do you say, Madeleine? You’re free to look over the arrangements if you’d like. We’ve left your bachelorette party on the same day as before, but the location is open to the entire country… Just say the word and I'll have the jet prepared...” 

Madeleine rolled her eyes. “I don’t get why you want to cancel an international tour so we can go to the same old duchies–” 

“Countess, your King made his wishes known and his reasons are relevant. Do you wish for the people to doubt your reign as Queen?” Constantine asked with his hands clasped behind his back. “Perhaps after the coronation fiasco this would have been the best solution, anyway.”

“Fine, we can proceed with your new plans.” Madeleine finally relented. “But there had better be media coverage, Liam.” 

Liam fought the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he nodded. “You have my word.” 

Constantine smiled and put a hand on both of their shoulders. “I’m proud of both of you. You’re going to change the course of Cordonian history, the two of you. Have you prepared a statement, son?”

“I’m working on it,” Liam answered. “Would you like to be present with me, Madeleine? Perhaps it would be better if we announce the changes together.” 

Before Madeleine could respond, Constantine did so for her. “Yes, that’s a splendid plan. Do use urgency so we may stay on track. Be sure to extend invitations to our international counterparts who we expected to see along the tour, though.”

Liam nodded, and Constantine exited with Madeleine at his side, who trampled away with heavy footsteps. Drake audibly gagged as soon as the door closed behind them. “That was hard to watch.”

Liam shuddered. “Tell me about it. Do you think they bought it?” 

“I think so,” Maxwell answered. “Your dad seemed really into the idea, honestly… and as long as it’s heavily publicized, Madeleine will be happy.” 

Liam rubbed his hands together. “Right… Right… You’re right…”

“Calm down, Li. You did good.” Drake patted him on the back. “They bought it and I think you made a smart move by enlisting Maddy to make the statement with you.”

“I agree. It’s showing the mastermind that although I’m changing things up, Madeleine is on board. That’s who they’re concerned about, anyway... I’m hoping that having her support on this will work to our advantage.” 

“Damn straight. Now, we gotta hurry and throw all this bullshit together so you can get your statement out there.” 

A few hours later, Olivia was on her way to meet with her contact on the outskirts of the city limits. Her acquaintance was someone she worked with in the past and trusted to assist them. He helped her look into the source of her own blackmail after she hit a wall. Olivia only traced it back to three different middlemen; had it not been for her associate’s aid, she never would’ve found the others. He didn't classify himself as an investigator, spy, or hacker; simply a jack of all trades. His skill set and knowledge were insurmountable, and Olivia knew he would be a worthy asset. 

Olivia pulled up to an empty parking lot aside from one other vehicle. A tall man in a black leather jacket stepped out and adjusted his shirt underneath as he did so. He took off his sunglasses and leaned against the side of the car. She exited her own SUV and made her way over, all the while looking around to ensure they were alone. 

“Thank you for meeting with me, Ray. I have a job for you.” Olivia cautiously spoke as she reached him. 

Ray smiled and bowed to her. “What can I do for you, Duchess?” 

“I need you to look into the whereabouts of two people. The first is Tariq, second Riley Brooks.” 

Ray nodded. “I was wondering if you were going to seek help there.” Olivia’s brows furrowed, causing Ray to chuckle. “Please, anyone could tell those photos were fakes or set up. It seems likely that the one who leaked the story is the same person who blackmailed you.”

“It’s not just the story, Ray. We think someone removed her from the situation. We found this–” Olivia produced the trash bag with Riley’s contaminated dress and held it out to Ray, who took it and glanced at the contents. “–inside a shed, along with all of Riley’s other belongings.”

“A shed?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Ray gave her an unsure expression. “I don’t like that, Olivia. That instantly gave me an unsettled feeling. There’s a reason her stuff is there.” 

“Trust me, I know...” 

Ray once again looked inside the bag. “You haven’t sent this off anywhere? To check the DNA?” 

“I intended to, but then I was called to a homicide for the only solid lead we’ve had regarding Riley.” Ray didn’t even try to hide his shock, which caused Olivia to chuckle. “Yeah, tell me about it. Obviously, we’re thinking it’s all connected, but…” 

Ray noticed Olivia’s hesitant expression and inquired, “What?” 

Olivia sighed and explained to Ray all the things she observed the night of the maid’s murder. When she finished, she added, “I was going to have Bastien send that dress off to forensics, but after his futile behavior, I don’t think I want him near it. He’d probably fuck around and lose it or something.” She rolled her eyes. 

“I can have it sent to the lab I use if you’d like. If I tell them it’s a stat order, I should only have to wait a few days.” 

Olivia nodded. “Yes, do that.”

“You got it. Now, have there been any leads into either of your missing persons?” 

“All Bastien has found is that Riley landed in New York the morning after the jamboree.”

“Nothing on Tariq?” Olivia shook her head. “Hmm… I find it odd that there would be no trace of him.” 

“I can confirm on my end I found the same result when I searched.” 

“I’ll begin at once. And you want me to travel with you?”

“Just for now. If we’re correct once the news breaks of the tour’s new destinations, there may be retaliation. I’m not sure what that could look like at this point and I need more people around who can properly assess situations. Honestly, finding Riley’s dress and leaving it opened my eyes to the fact that we’re all emotionally involved in this. There’s no reason for it to have sat in there a second longer once we found it, but we were all so stunned nobody was thinking. I hate to admit it, but even myself included.” 

“I can see why; it’s a lot of information to learn at once and not a lot of it makes any sense from where I’m standing. But I agree that having someone with a firm and clear mindset could benefit you.”

“I’m counting on it.” Olivia handed him a thick folder. “Here is your dossier to cover you throughout the tour. You are now Harold Marshowitz, my new bodyguard. Alternative forms of identifications are in there as well as any security clearance you may need.” 

“Got it.” 

“Great, let’s get moving.” 

“Wait–” Ray stopped her. “While we’re free to speak openly, I wanted to bring forth another potential lead I see…” 

Olivia arched her brow. “I’m listening…” 

“Have you looked into that article? At all?” 

“What do you mean?”

“It had to come from somewhere; it didn’t just appear. Not only did someone have to take those photos, but there was a story attached to it. Someone concocted that; I’m unsure if it’ll be the same person, or…” 

Olivia shook her head as frustration washed over her. “No, I hadn’t even thought about that…” 

“As you said, you’re all emotionally involved in this. I’m not, so I can see things a little more clearly…” Ray trailed off, then hesitantly spoke. “I’m, uh – a little surprised that the guard didn’t think of that.” 

“Bastien is an idiot, but something about his demeanor lately has struck me as off… I don’t know if he’s developing dementia, or if it’s something deeper…”

“All the more reason to have me around,” Ray smirked. 

“Is that something you can look into? The article?”

Ray flashed her a cocky smile and straightened his jacket. “Who do you think you’re talking to?” 

Olivia rolled her eyes. “I’m trusting you, Ray. I need you to come through for me.” 

Ray placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “All jokes aside, this is what I live for, Olivia. I love sinking my teeth into a juicy mystery. I will find them, you have my word.”

Out of sight, a figure was lurking in the shadows not far away, intently watching and listening to the meeting. As Olivia and Ray vacated the area together, the peeper clenched their jaw and repetitively punched the tree they stood beside. After removing their surveillance equipment and slamming it to the ground, they started vigorously pacing.

Everyone assumed Liam could start asking questions, but his duty and broken heart were supposed to keep him blinded. The expected time for his inquiries was long after the wedding when the job would be fully completed. However, Liam and his collective group of friends were making progress in their search and had uncovered too much in a short period; not everything, but it wouldn’t be that hard to find the rest of those answers, especially now that he brought on a competent professional to help. Considering how early it was in the tour, the possibility of him figuring it out suddenly skyrocketed. 

As a result, the entire operation was in more danger than ever before; that was not an option for anyone involved. They served the deception all around; if the mission was uncovered, multiple people would go down for it, and they would face the wrath of more than the current monarch. 

It wasn’t hard to guess where their investigation would lead them next, and that meant another loose end just identified itself. The unknown person brought out their phone to make a call, which was answered on the first ring. “We have a tremendous problem…”

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[storyofmychoices]

Shadows and Deception: Parts III & IV

[Series Masterlist] [My Choices Masterlists]

Books: The Royal Romance (post-TRF), Crimes of Passion I, Desire & Decorum, Blades of Light and Shadow I Characters: Trystan Thorne (M, no race mentioned), Marguerite Thorne, Olivia Nevrakis, Queen Amalas, Maxwell Beaumont, Daniel, King Liam (no race mentioned), Tyril Starfury, Nia Ellarious, Prince Hamid Pairings: Olivia Nevrakis x Queen Amalas ; M!Trystan Thorne x (no gender given) MC (mentioned) ; King Liam x Riley (mentioned) Rating/Warnings: Teen, mentions of blood, stab wound, knives/daggers (no graphic descriptions) Word Count: Part III: ~900; Part IV: ~600 : total ~1,500

Summary: So many rumors, so many royal suspects, but where does the truth lie?

Catch up on Parts I and II here

III. From now on, it is our task to suspect each and every one amongst us. (Justice Wargrave)

Disbelief and unease swept through the ballroom as words of foul play circulated. Whispers swirled, sending ripples of suspicion among the guests. Accusatory glances were thrown all around, even toward some of the most prominent and unexpecting of guests.

Trystan Thorne, the once Heir Apparent of Drakovia, found himself caught in the web. 

The sound of his name caught his ear as he listened to a particularly pompous party-goer: "I can't believe they let him in. You've read the stories, I'm sure. How he murdered his fiancée."

"Allegedly," he interrupted, his brow arching as he met the guest's gaze. "I was charged, yes. But as for the truth, that remains to be seen."

"I didn't know," the guest stammered realizing the Prince stood beside them. All color drained from their face. 

"That's the thing, though, isn't it? You don't know. Therefore, I suggest you save your breaths for words you know to be true," Trystan warned. "Being accused of one crime does not give any reason to suspect me of another." He shook his head, walking away. He marveled at the lack of effort that was made before his name was thrown into the pool of suspects. 

Marguerite Thorne, Trystan's half-sister and the youngest Princess of Drakovia (if one considered illegitimate children as such), also faced her own share of rumors.

A group of socialites huddled together, casting not-so-covert glances in her direction, snickering as they went. 

One of them strode up to the Princess, waving her phone in her hand. "Princess Marguerite, any comment to these rumors that you orchestrated the murder of Countess Juliana to frame your brother? Jealous much?" She scoffed, a look of disdain filling her face. “Hoping to find yourself some new attention here?”

Marguerite's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and disbelief. "How absurd! To even indulge your delusions for the sake of my amusement would be an insult to my integrity." She chuckled as she sauntered away, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She refused to give them the satisfaction of turning back. 

Queen Amalas became the subject of whispered suspicions. Some guests cast accusatory glances her way, questioning the depths to which she would go for knowledge and secrets, and what actions she might take to protect them. Her composed demeanor remained unwavering. 

Amalas brushed up against the Duchess, her words a whisper in her ear. "Have you made any progress?" 

"There are still many questions to be asked," Olivia replied, her fingers brushing against her Queen's. "Have you turned up anything of worth?"

Her brow rose briefly, a secret smile playing on her lips, "All in good time." Amalas pulled away, tucking her clutch safely under her arm. 

"Maybe I should search you," Olivia teased, pulling her back. "I could certainly make it enjoyable... for the both of us." 

"I trust you could. Another time, my love." 

Olivia glided through the halls, continuing to conduct her investigation until a particularly ridiculous display caught her attention. ‘Who could dance at a time like this?’ She marched forward, ready to put an end to it when a whisper floating through the ballroom hooked her attention. She paused, listening to the murmured words. 

Apparently, the Ottoman Prince was conducting an investigation himself. She listened as a guest confided that she had overheard an intense exchange between Lord Beaumont and the waiter earlier in the evening. She wasn't clear on the exact details, but what was clear was the tension between them. Between this and his odd behavior early, Olivia had a new suspect to question. ‘What had he gotten himself into now?'

Maxwell Beaumont, emboldened by his carefree attitude, danced to his own music, refusing to let the party become a lifeless bore. After all, someone had to keep the guests' spirits up.  

Olivia approached him, her gaze sharp and penetrating. "Maxwell, do you care to explain yourself?"

"I'm not sure what you mean." He offered her little attention. His body moved in rhythm as he attempted to beatbox his favorite dance beats. 

Olivia grumbled, "If you could contain yourself for even five minutes." 

"I could, but then, who would carry this party on their shoulders!?" Maxwell winked and jumped atop the closest table. "Breakdance battle—15 minutes. You'll know where."

"You can't do that!" Olivia's words were lost as he dashed off into the crowd before she could ask about the rumors she had just overheard about him and Daniel's argument before the party. There was definitely something going on with him. 

Nia Ellarious, the priestess of light who had once been possessed by the evil entity, the Dreadlord, faced her own share of suspicion. Tyril Starfury approached her gently, offering reassurance. "I understand your concerns, but it's customary for the person who discovers the body to be considered a probable suspect. We must remain vigilant and trust that the truth will prevail."

"What if there's more to it?" Nia worried. She had escaped the darkness that had taken over her, but the nightmares of its presence remained. "It can't happen again."

His grasp on his blade tightened as he scanned the crowd. "It won't. Tonight's events are entirely human-created."

Still, others whispered the name of another. 

With her known predilection for daggers and her often cold and calculating demeanor, Duchess Olivia Nevrakis's name caught on the lips of some who dared cast a shadow toward her.

IV. Truth arises from the seemingly irrelevant. (C. Auguste Dupin)

Whispers slithered through the air, their words laden with suspicion and hidden agendas. As tension thickened like a dense fog looming over the proceedings, some of the distinguished guests took it upon themselves to investigate the crime, each motivated by their own agenda. The ballroom became a web of whispered conversations, covert glances, and hidden alliances.

Trystan's pulse thrummed with curiosity, the exhilaration of the mystery running high. He was determined to unravel this crime as he had others in New York. Memories of his own false accusation lingered, igniting a fire within him to clear his name. His fingers tapped a steady rhythm against his chin, his mind racing with thoughts of the mysterious silver key. Could it be the key to the truth, or was it merely a red herring calling him astray?

Olivia, fueled by an unwavering determination to shield her chosen family and to exact justice, wove through the crowd. Her sharp mind looked for connections between hushed conversations, hidden agendas, and the untimely death. The corner of her lips pulled up faintly at the promise of more to come. 

Now if only she could find Maxwell... Pinning him down should have been the least of her problems; after all, it was Beaumont. He was the least stealthy person she knew. However, he seemed to have made it a game to elude her at every turn, a dangerous dance of cat and mouse developing. Olivia's frustration grew with each attempt to corner him. Foreshadowing a perilous end for the little mouse, or squid as it were, this shark was determined to catch him one way or another. Yet, as she pursued answers to her questions, she couldn't help but wonder if his unusual behavior was denial as he processed his grief.

Balancing duty and his loyalty to Nia, Tyril trod with caution. After Aerin Valleros, he wasn't about to trust another royal. The remnants of the Dreadlord's grip lingered in his memory, fueling his determination to protect Nia from any lurking shadows. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. He would be ready this time. 

Amalas employed her cunning and manipulation to take advantage of the situation, using it to extract every fragment of information she could, regardless of its relation to the events of the evening. All knowledge was power. She maneuvered through the labyrinth of people as silent as a shadow, her movements graceful and elusive. She made her way to a small balcony above. Her perceptive gaze scanned the room, watching and waiting. Her pulse quickened, but she quickly regained her composure. Her focus took a moment longer as her gaze followed the alluring movements of her scarlet-haired Duchess.

Prince Hamid, torn between his formal obligations and his innate desire for justice, skillfully navigated the crowd. He listened to stories and deciphered what information he could learn. His charisma and charm proved invaluable in gaining the trust of potential witnesses. His calm persona reassured guests into fully opening up to him with any facts or theories they may have.

The King's Guard moved throughout the proceedings, questioning everyone who may have heard or seen something. They took particular interest in those who moved about in the shadows, investigating on their own, for perhaps one of them was sticking too close in order to cover his/her own tracks.

Regardless of the underlying reason for their inquiries, there was a puzzle to be solved, and no one was going to let the blame fall on them, especially the exiled Prince of Drakovia.

[Continue...]

Thanks for reading! I hope you are enjoying they mystery. There are definitely a lot of rumors and suspicious behaviors, but what do any of them mean?

Tomorrow, an unlikely(?) suspect emerges as the murder weapon is found! The conclusion will be posted Monday! Happy sleuthing!

Giveaway Information: complete details here

3 winners will be chose for minimalist portraits with @bayleedrawsx

Any one who comments on or reblogs with a comment with their theories, thoughts, ideas, ect. on any and all sections of the story will be entered in the giveaway. (1 entry per section)

Prompts: For @choicesbookclub COP ; @choicesmonthlychallenge Private Investigator Event

Special thanks: to JenBeaumontJones (IG) for beta reading

[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 Libert�� 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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[justcallmefox89]

Cinderfella's Adventures in Cordonia - Chapter Twenty-Four

An AU of The Royal Romance with a male MC and a bisexual prince.

Masterlist

Drake starts to move on without Liam.

“You sure you’re ok with this, Brat?” I ask, dropping our bags onto the floor of the hotel room.  Given the ridiculously high tension between me and Liam I’d opted to stay here instead of at the palace, and in a surprising move of solidarity, Drake had opted to join me. 

He huffs and rolls his eyes, turning away from me.  “I’m not going to fall apart without Liam.”

“Hey.”  I hook my index finger through one of the belt loops on his jeans and tug him towards me.  I run the tip of my nose against his cheek, and he shivers slightly as my breath ghosts over his skin.  “I didn’t say you would.  But this is uncharted territory for all of us… I want to know that you’re ok.”

Drake sighs, leaning his forehead against my shoulder.  “It’s weird.  I never imagined a point in time where Liam wouldn’t be in my life, but now that probability is staring me in the face and it’s not as terrifying as I thought it would be.  I’m happy with you… and for once I’m finally about to focus on my future without worrying about what I’ll have to hide or the things I won’t be able to have because of Liam.”

“I just don’t want you to have any regrets,” I whisper, a tiny shard of doubt creeping into my mind.

Drake kisses me softly.  “I could never regret you,” he murmurs.

“Hm.”  I hold him a little tighter, nervous energy thrumming through me.

Drake pulls away slightly and peers up at me.  “You wanna get out of here?  I have something I want to show you.”

“Oh?”  I arch one eyebrow in interest.  “What is it?”

“You’ll see.  Give me an hour to get everything ready.”

**** TWO HOURS LATER ****

“I want to go back to the hotel.”  I scowl over at Drake as our hired car pulls up to the security gates surrounding the palace.

“So cranky,” Drake mumbles, kissing my neck.  “I want to show you something on the grounds; we won’t see anyone else.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he says, nipping at earlobe, laughing in satisfaction when I shudder at the sensation.

“Fiiiiine,” I pout, exiting the car. 

Drake retrieves two hiking backpacks from the trunk of the car and tips the driver before thrusting one of the backpacks into my hands with a smile.

I stare down at the pack in my hands, baffled.  “What is this?”

Drake grins.  “We’re going on a hike.”

“But why?”

“It’s part of the something I want to show you.  Besides, you could use some time in the great outdoors.  Fresh air is good for you.”

I have my doubts.

“But there are so many outside things in the outdoors.” 

Drake steps a little closer, his fingers toying with the hem of my t-shirt.  “Please, Callum?  For me?”

I groan, unable to withstand the power of the soft voice/puppy dog eyes combination.  “The things I do for you, Brat.”

Drake grins.  “Thank you,” he murmurs, popping up on his toes and pressing a warm kiss to my lips.  He steps away from me and slings the backpack onto his shoulders.  “Let’s go!”

I hoist my own backpacks onto my shoulders with a grunt and begin tromping after him.

****MUCH, MUCH LATER****

“We almost there, Brat?” I call out to Drake, who is several feet ahead of me, perfectly at home among the numerous trees and insects surrounding us.  Meanwhile I’m convinced I’ve entered my own personal hell and reconsidering my attraction to the man in front of me.

“We’re nearly there!”  He looks back over his shoulder and flashes me a brilliant smile.

Goddamn it.  How am I supposed to stay annoyed with him when he smiles like that?

A few minutes later there is a break in the trees and we step out into an open clearing, where a small lake shimmers in the afternoon sunlight.

Drake takes my hands and eagerly leads me to the lake shore.  “It’s beautiful, right?” he asks, smiling at me.

“It’s pretty,” I agree quietly.  “Do you come here a lot?”

His smile momentarily falters.  “I came here a lot with my dad when I was younger.  This is where he taught me to fish.  After he died it was just… too hard to come back.”

I glance over at him in surprise.  “Are you good to be back here?”

“Yeah.”  He nods slowly.  “It’s easier, with you here.  And I wanted to share a little bit of my past with you.  This place is important to me… and so are you.  It just seemed right to bring you here.”

I pull Drake into a hug, resting my chin on the top of his head.  “I love you,” I whisper.

“Love you too,” he mumbles into my chest.  We hold each other for a few more moments before Drake gently pushes me away with a mischievous smirk.

“What are you doing?” I ask, as he slowly strips off his shirt.  I dig my teeth into my lower lip, transfixed by the sight of his sculpted stomach and the trail of dark hair that dips below the waistband of his jeans.

“Going swimming.”  He pops the button on his jeans, grinning as I groan softly.

A stray thought manages to break through even as all the blood in my brain rushes to my dick.  “Wait, what?  Swimming?  In there?” I ask, pointing toward the lake.

“…yes?”  Drake frowns at me. 

I stare at the lake, unable to stop my lips curling back in disdain.  As a born and bred New Yorker I’ve never met water that wasn’t better after being properly treated and filtered. 

I shake my head.  “No.  Nope.”

“Why?”

“That’s wild water, Drake!  Fish fuck in there!”

Drake blinks, then lets out an honest to God giggle.  “That’s not…  You’ll be fine.”

I cross my arms over my chest and plant my feet firmly in the dirt.  “No.”

Drake comes closer, snaking his hands under my shirt and splaying his hands over my stomach.  “Come on, it will be fun.”

I glance over my shoulder at the rippling blue water that I just know is teeming with flesh-eating bacteria and fish sperm.  I shudder.  “No.”

“Seriously, Callum?”  Drake frowns at me.  “Get in the water.”

I shake my head again.  “Can’t make me.”

Drake’s lips curl up into a smirk.  “No?”

“Negative, Ghostrider.” 

He shrugs.  “You brought this on yourself.”

Before I can ask what he means Drake bends his knees, places his hands on my chest, and shoves. 

“What the -”  Caught off balance I go flying backwards, my arms windmilling as I try to regain my footing.  One more slight push from Drake and I go tumbling into the water.

Oh he is so getting a spanking for this.

I break the surface of the water sputtering and cursing, and wipe the water from my eyes just in time to see Drake laughing his ass off safely on shore. 

“I told you you’d be fine,” he calls out once he’s collected himself.

I grimly start sloshing my way towards shore, trying to avoid thinking about how many disgusting microorganisms I’ve been exposed to.  “You better start running, Brat.”

Drake’s smile instantly falls.  “What?”

By now I’m within five feet of him.  “Run.”

He takes off into a dead sprint.  “It was a joke!” he shouts.  “I love you!”

I charge after him, laughing.  I catch up to him quickly, snatching him by the back of his shirt and tugging him towards me, before crouching and tossing him over my shoulder with a grunt. 

“Hey!  Stop!  What are you doing?” Drake yells, trying to wriggle free.

I give him a sharp smack on the ass.  “Hold still, Brat.”

He instantly falls still, and his rapidly hardening dick pokes into my shoulder, revealing just how much he’s enjoying my rougher treatment.  I quickly reach the edge of the water and toss him in, before wading in behind him.  He pops out of the water with a sheepish smile, brushing his wet hair out of his eyes.

I smirk, enjoying the way his wet t-shirt clings to his chest.  “Now we’re even.”

Drake swims towards me and I pull him into my arms.  He loops his arms around my neck and locks his legs around my hips, and brushes the tip of his nose against mine.

“Hey,” I whisper, grabbing his hips to hold him closer to me.  “Gross water aside, I’m really glad you brought me here.”

Drake’s eyes light up and he gives me a shy smile.  “Yeah?”

“Of course.  I love you.  I wanna know everything about you.”

Drake tucks his head under my chin.  “Really?”

“Really.  Sometimes I want to crack open your chest, crawl inside you, and walk around wearing you like a Drake suit - that’s how much I love you.”

Drake freezes in my arms.

“Too far?” I ask.

He snorts and shakes his head.  “You’re so fucking weird.”

“You love it.”  I poke him in the ribs, making him laugh.

“I have no idea why, but I really do.”

[choiceswithmika]

The Freshman x The Royal Romance CrossOver Series

Rated: Mature

Word count: 1159

Summary: Will and his friends in Cordonia are being prepared to meet Mikaylyn and her friends.

@choicesficwriterscreations

Chapter 2: The Royal Romance Crew's Point of View

 In Cordonia, having King Will Williams with King Liam Rys along with Hana Lee, Drake Walker, Maxwell Beaumont and everyone else are doing their usual duties and routine. It was a usual day in the kingdom. It was around in the evening time now as things were calming down after a busy day. Will was about to get ready for bed when he got a call from his friend Mikaylyn, Mikaylyn who lives in the states close to New York, not so far from Will's city. Will go ahead answers his call on his phone. 

"Hey Mikaylyn! Is it like 8 pm right now?" Will greeted on call. 

"Yeah! But hey I was wondering.. Is it okay if I could come visit to Cordonia with my husband and friends..? Sumi is there too." Mikaylyn says on the call.

Will was a bit quiet for a second and as hearing the certain news, it took Will a long minute before responding, "Wait wait when did you get married?!" Will says in a shock tone.

On the line, Mikaylyn was a bit surprised before she spoke in a response, "Wait.. You didn't know? Hell.. I even invited you to the wedding.." Mikaylyn says in her soft tone.

There was a pause for a minute as Will checked his emails on his phone then Will spoke, "Uh... I never seem that email.. But I didn't think you would have a wedding without no invitation.." Will says.

"That's funny because I didn't know you were getting married to the king of Cordonia!!" Mikaylyn says dramatically in her voice.

Will was taken a back by Mikaylyn's words and spoke, "Well... I was too busy to tell you!" 

Mikaylyn sounded a bit down but shakes it off, then spoke to change the topic from the wedding instead of clapping back like how she would when she feel disrespected on the line. 

"Will.. I literally texted you 2 hours ago about asking to visit you.." Mikaylyn says softly. 

"Ugh.. whatever I'll check it out, just.. I'll let my husband and friends know that you and your own crew want to come." Will says before ending the call. 

Will shrugs his head as he goes into the bathroom to get ready to call it a night. Will was overthinking about Mikaylyn's words towards him. He is starting to think that maybe this royal thing has taken over his mind that sometimes he forgets that he is still human. Everything was so fast and challenging when he first came into Cordonia. Some nights he even missed being able to enjoy being a normal person like going out with friends, having deep conversations and all the normal human activities. Though Will does not regret being with the love of his life, he's starting to see how it could of affected his friendships with his old friends, Mikaylyn and Sumi has been his friends since high school. They used to be close and talk to them about everything until when getting into the adulthood that it changes. 

_______________________________

A little while later, after Will cools down from the luxery bathroom, Will goes look for Liam around in the castle. It took a short while but he finds Liam writing down papers in the dining room. Will walks towards him and immediately starts speaking from behind. 

"My king.. Can I ask you something?" Will greeted. 

Liam immediately turns his head to focus on Will so he can hear what Will has to ask.

"Of course my love what it is?" Liam ask.

"I was wondering if my.. dear friend Mikaylyn and her friends can come visit us?.." Will ask a bit nervously. 

Liam showed a small smile on his face and answers, "Ah I think that is a lovely idea but uhm my love any reason though?" Liam says.

Will shrugs his shoulders, "She told me that her and her friends want to come.. But.. don't you think this is a good idea that they want to come over and let them get around Cordonia and maybe even.. meet our friends?.." Will suggested. 

"Sounds good to me, can you tell the others while I finish this up?" Liam says.

Will nods his head in response, then as walking back to the bedroom he immediately pull out his phone back from his pocket then immediately started texting the group chat. 

The Group Chat

W: Guys I have some news to share, you all might want to sit down.

M: OOOOHHH NEWSSS

H: What Maxwell meant was- what's this news that you want to share <3

D: I was about to have to my 3rd round of whiskey what do you want. 

M: Three?? oof Man is having a high life crisis

D: You squid fool am not!

O: Anyways. Make the quick Will. I have to finish this training. 

W: ... Anyways.. My friend Mikaylyn just contacted me and she said her and her friends want to come visit us.

D: Finally!! Normal citizens!

H: How excited! I heard about Mikaylyn before but.. who is she?..

M: She sounds great!!!

O: ... You had other friends besides us? And is Liam even aware of this!?

W: Yes Olivia, he's on it. I told him before you guys. And to answer Hana's question Mikaylyn is my old friend from high school and my other friend Sumi too. They don't live that far from New York. 

H: Sounds great ^^ We can even make new friends too. 

M: YAYYYY NEW FRIENDS!!

D: Maxwell shut upp!!

O: Okay. I am cool with that. just let me train now

W: How long do we need to prepare for the visit?

D: Just give us like a week and we should be fine. 

W: Okay, I'll meet up with you guys tomorrow for our set up plan for the visit welcome. 

______________________________________

After a while longer of the text group chat messages, Will turned off his phone and continued to focus on his night routine before heading to bed. 

A week later on a Wednesday Morning, it was a hectic moment where everyone was being prepared for Mikaylyn and her friends go visit. Will is a bit nervous since he has not seen Mikaylyn and Sumi in a long time. Will also did not believe that Mikaylyn was married now, he knew about Zig but didn't think this was happening to see Mikaylyn as a Ortega. Hana was decorating the ball room as Maxwell was gathering the food and drinks. Drake and Liam were talking to each other as preparing doing the greet welcome as Olivia then was organizing her weapons before deciding to help the crew with the area. All morning the whole crew was busy with the preparation, it was a lot of work but in the ballroom, it was filled with fancy streamers, fun balloons and bunch of American's food with usual drinks that happens in the states. Everyone decided for Will and Liam to meet Mikaylyn and her friends by the front. Will takes a deep breath holding Liam's hand as watching the plane landed.

"Here we go.." Will mumbled. 

[alj4890]

Can't Take My Eyes Off of You

(Maxwell Beaumont x Olivia Nevrakis) in a Choices The Royal Romance Crackship

A/N Sorry this took so long. Life always finds a way to interrupt my plans with all my series. This chapter takes place the night of Liam's coronation ball.

Masterlist

Chapter 7

"Where is the appeal?" Madeleine hissed.

Olivia shrugged. She wasn't about to humor the countess with commenting on what was unfolding before them.

The press were swarming around Riley and Hana as they made their arrival in a horse drawn carriage.

"We've been top contenders this entire time." Madeleine furiously whispered. "How in the world did some random American win over everyone?"

Olivia frowned somewhat as Riley gushed to the press about how sweet Hana was in giving her a lift to the ball.

"She's nice." She observed. "People tend to like that in others."

"Nice does not mean you can effectively rule a nation." Madeleine reminded her. "It doesn't help you know the ins and outs of life at Court nor does it give one the finesse of dealing with foreign powers."

"Then you better hope that Liam agrees with you." Olivia taunted. "Or else, you're looking at our future queen."

Madeleine glared at her. "And that doesn't bother you? You who have pined for Liam since birth can watch him choose this nobody? Where's that infamous Nevrakis loyalty to our country?! Would you curtsy to someone like her?"

Olivia rolled her eyes over how dramatic Madeleine was being.

"If she is Liam's choice, then who am I to argue against him? He's our king now, Madeleine. Like every other Cordonian, we have to learn to accept the decisions he will make."

Gathering her skirt, she left the countess staring in disbelief.

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

Oliva went directly to her chambers shortly after dinner for a chance to prepare for what was still before her.

Once alone, she took a deep breath as she began to plan for how the rest of her night would go. She knew she still needed to give Liam his gift, then she'd be forced to mingle and be seen at the ball.

She would have to find a way to sneak out and meet Maxwell at some point from the beginning of the ball until Liam made his choice. Then, if things progressed like she planned, they might even meet up again after the ceremony.

A thrill went through her at the thought. She'd done little throughout the day except think of how she felt in Maxwell's arms. It surprised her how easily his touch set her nerves to singing. She actually wanted to see just how much he could make her burn.

She walked over to the window, gazing out at her chosen spot. Her brow furrowed with the sight of servants going about the hedge maze to light lanterns at each of the numerous twists and turns.

"That's out." She decided.

The last thing she needed was to be caught under one of the lanterns in an illicit embrace with Cordonia's most fun loving lord.

She twirled about and began to pace. She needed a more private spot, one either dark or barely lit to begin this affair.

She considered other hidden nooks in the palace. The conservatory was somewhat ideal, but it smelled too much like wet dirt and fertilizer. The music room was far enough away from the ballroom and even soundproof, but there was no lock on the door. The library always had people coming in and out to have a break from the crowded ballroom. Even the various dens and studies left little to be desired in terms of privacy.

Her eyes darted to the king sized bed in her room.

We will have to be careful coming up here. If anyone saw the two of us going into my room, would they think we were meeting for something else or for sex?

Did she really care what conclusion anyone came to? Liam was choosing Riley this evening. It wasn't like Olivia was being unfaithful to him. And where would be the proof, even if someone did see her with Maxwell? Once the door shut and was locked, no one would know what went on behind it.

"It'll have to be here." She said to herself. "There's nowhere else we can go tonight."

Once her mind was made up on any subject, she did not like waiting around for it. Her lack of patience combined with her innate determination made being with Maxwell a forgone conclusion.

She wasn't above admitting she wanted him. The question that reverberated in her mind was a simple one: did she want Maxwell for life or merely for sex?

She knew his feelings for her went beyond a simple affair...but did hers?

Wrinkling her nose over something she wasn't quite ready to answer, she turned on her heel to check her reflection one last time.

Movement out of the corner of her eye made her still.

Glancing at the door, she noticed a letter that was slipped underneath.

Jerking her door open, she looked up and down the hallway filled with various nobles and dignitaries going in and out of their suites.

"Bastien!" She called out to one of the guards.

"Yes, your grace?"

"Did you see anyone stop by my door?"

The guard's eyes briefly touched on the envelope in her hand.

"No, your grace." He nodded towards the mysterious letter. "Is something wrong?"

"No." She gave a brisk nod of farewell and shut the door.

It must be from Maxwell, she thought with a hint of a smile. He used to write letters to me all the time.

Ripping into it, she eagerly began to see just what romantic nonsense he'd come up with this time.

Her smile disappeared the moment the words registered. Line after line revealed information on her parents and their mysterious death. Every single traitorous activity they participated in was gone into great detail. Then, at the end, there was the threat to reveal everything if she didn't withdraw and leave before Liam picked his chosen queen.

"No." She clapped a hand to her mouth.

It can't be true! They were heroes! They loved this country! All they spoke of was making it and Lythikos better. Their loyalty was beyond reproach. They would never risk everything for a chance to rule Cordonia.

They'd never risk leaving me alone.

Her temper took over her initial devastation.

It's a trick! Someone wants to make me doubt them. Make me leave here in disgrace.

But who?

One of the suitors?

Madeleine's desperate to win this. She lost her chance to be queen once before. To leave a loser again probably weighs on her, but she's above blackmail. Penelope knows she doesn't stand a chance. She's too stupid to ever think of something this clever. Kiara's too intelligent to use baseless lies to get her way. Hana doesn't seem to have enough nerve to ever do something like this. And Riley...

She stilled.

Maxwell swore Riley was genuinely kind. Could she be the snake in their group, pretending to be all that is good in the world?

Livid, Olivia shoved the letter in the pocket of her dress.

Swiping up Liam's gift, she stormed out of her room.

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

"I know it was you." Olivia hissed.

Riley whirled around, eyes wide in confusion.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't know what kind of game you're playing," Olivia glared at her, "but it won't work."

"What are you talking about?" Riley asked.

Olivia studied her and realized it couldn't be her. Riley had no idea about anything that went on in Cordonia, much less it's history. Why would she concoct some story about Olivia's parents when it was well known they were heroes? She already knew she was Liam's favorite. What would she have to gain in destroying Olivia's peace of mind and forcing her to withdraw out of disgrace?

"You didn't send it." She whispered.

Riley gently touched her arm.

"Send what?"

"Forget it." Olivia jerked her arm away and stepped up to Liam.

She somehow got through talking to him about her gift and then managed to calmly walk into the ballroom.

Her green eyes darted over the crowd, wondering who was out to get her.

She nearly flipped the person over her shoulder when she felt someone's fingers brush her hand.

Eyes narrowed, she turned around to see Maxwell.

"Hey." His tender smile appeared. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks." She mumbled.

"So?" He leaned closer. "When should we meet at the hedge maze?"

"That's not happening." She folded her arms, while glancing over his shoulder at the few nobles meeting in groups and pointing at each suitor.

They're either trying to figure out who Liam will pick or something worse. Am I the only one who received a threat tonight?

She then noticed the devastation forming on Maxwell's face.

"We're not happening?" He whispered.

"No, we are." She snapped. "Just not at the hedge maze."

Huffing in irritation, she hissed, "Meet me in my room in exactly one hour and ten minutes."

Before he had a chance to agree or say anything remotely how excited he was, she left him to mingle.

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

"You seem excited." Riley teased as she tried to remember the dance steps.

"I am!" Maxwell grinned at her. "Tonight's the night where all our dreams will come true."

"I know I'm dancing with our future queen." He squeezed her hand before twirling her. "You will have your happily ever after. Liam will be with the love of his life. Bertrand will calm down and make it to forty without having a stroke."

"You really believe that." Her smile grew over how his words never ceased in boosting her confidence. "I love how you never doubt that everything will turn out like we hope."

He sighed softly as he thought of the one thing that made him feel so completely happy.

And I somehow ended up with the woman of my dreams.

"Have I thanked you for, well, everything?" Riley asked.

Maxwell's grin turned bashful. "I didn't do much to be thanked."

"Only encouraged me every single second. You have been by my side the entire time and made time for me and Liam to be alone." She reminded him. "You were the only person to believe I belonged here. You gave me the chance to see if Liam and I could have something more than some flirtation."

When the dance ended, she hugged him.

"You'll always have my thanks, Max, no matter how tonight ends."

He hugged her tight then noticed the stares they were receiving.

"Come on." He pulled away and tucked her hand in the bend of his arm. "Let's go see what they have to snack on."

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

Between keeping an eye on the clock and discreetly interrogating the other suitors, Olivia's nerves were on edge.

There were times she'd stepped outside to reread the letter in an attempt to guess at who wrote this. One thing that bothered her about it was the amount of detail. There were dates and locations of where her parents had gone. This wasn't some simple threat that someone made up. There were claims of pictures and documents that would prove to the public the depth of her parents' betrayal.

Could it be true? Could they have done all this?

She knew her ancestors were notorious for doing whatever was best for themselves. A Nevrakis was known, not only for strength, but in using that strength to secure as much power as they possibly could by any means necessary.

Could her parents have been of that mindset? She recalled all the training they put her young self through. The speeches of how she needed to know how to handle herself if she was to one day rule.

Dear God. I thought they meant to rule as the Duchess of Lythikos. Did they really mean for me to rule as queen?

Her attention snapped from the letter to one of the outdoor bars. Sliding into the shadows, she hoped to overhear something that might point her towards a possible culprit.

Bertrand Beaumont was clinking glasses with, of all people, the former crown prince.

"It's been too long since we had a drink together." Leo added after taking a long sip. "How have you been?"

"Fine." Bertrand took a healthy gulp of his glass of bourbon. "I'll be even better once this night is over."

"I think everyone will." Leo snickered. "Liam is hiding it, but I think he's anxious."

"He has every right to be." Bertrand added. "He did just become king."

"It's not that." Leo rubbed the back of his neck. "It's about his choice. I think I might have ruined that for him."

Bertrand paused with his drink halfway to his lips. "How?"

"When I decided to abdicate, I thought Liam would have time to adjust. I didn't expect Father to make him immediately choose someone to marry, much less put him through this asinine social season." Leo grumbled.

"I understood why Father made me do it." He added. "I caused trouble everywhere I went." He downed the rest of his drink. "But Liam, he's always been the one to follow the rules. He never rebelled. Never gave anyone a reason to make public apologies on his behalf."

He sighed, motioning to the bartender for another round for the two of them.

"I worry that his sense of duty will deny him a chance at true happiness." He added.

"Perhaps not." Bertrand picked up his new glass. "King Liam seems to be rather fond of our suitor."

"Riley, right?" Leo grinned. "I've heard a lot about her these last few days."

"Nothing scandalous I hope." Bertrand shuddered. "House Beaumont can't afford even a hint of scandal."

"Nothing like that." Leo chuckled. "In fact, I think that..."

Olivia felt her heart drop. Bertrand's words echoed in her mind, drowning out their conversation, as she looked down at the letter in her hands once more.

House Beaumont can't afford even a hint of scandal.

If this letter ever got out to the public, her life would be ruined. No one would trust her. Any children she might one day have would be forced to hide in shame. Maxwell would be tainted by association.

He might even be forced by Bertrand to never see her again.

Gripping the letter that had the ability to implode her very existence, she quietly slipped back into the palace.

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

Maxwell did his best to walk both discreetly and as if he wasn't in any hurry to wherever he was going. He glanced over his shoulder every few feet to make sure no one was following. The few times he caught someone behind him, they paid him little attention and ended up turning down a different hallway.

His heartbeat picked up speed once he was a few doors down from Olivia's room. He wasn't exactly sure how far tonight would take his relationship with her, but he knew he was willing to go any distance she wanted.

Tonight would be, at least he hoped, the beginning of many, many nights together. His mind was filled with plans for their future. Dates to sweep her off her feet were considered. Special places from their past were thought of as possible backdrops to when he finally professed his love to her. Time spent in each other's home to think on which one to use for a possible wedding if he was lucky enough to receive a yes to his proposal.

All this and so much more was within his grasp. After all the years of yearning and trying to get her to see him, he'd finally won. The dream was a reality. He could at least relax and know that nothing stood in his way.

Pausing before her door, he took a deep breath, glanced once more around him, and quietly knocked.

Olivia opened it, grabbed his shirt collar, and yanked him inside.

He didn't have a chance to say anything. The moment the door shut, she shoved him against the door to kiss him.

His body instantly reacted, pulling her close and kissing her back with all the passion he had just for her.

She moaned in delight, hands quickly getting to work on unbuttoning his shirt.

She broke away from his mind numbing kiss to unbutton his pants. Her eyes closed the moment his lips touched her neck.

"Get those off." She demanded when he seemed to ignore her efforts.

"What's the hurry?" He kissed her again.

She bit down on her bottom lip. She knew why she was hurrying. This was probably their only chance to be together.

Her decision to leave before Liam announced his choice was made the moment she realized that scandal would ruin her chances with Maxwell. She needed to discover the truth about this letter, and unfortunately that meant investigating on her own.

She couldn't involve anyone else. If she did, she might have to stand there and watch them walk away from her. It was best for everyone if she left them. Then, her heart would be protected. She wouldn't have to face being turned away in fear or disgust that she shared a bloodline with possible traitors if she distanced herself from those she actually cared about.

But for now, she'd allow herself this one chance to see what life might have been like, if she was free to be with Maxwell.

"We can't stay up here too long." She explained, unzipping her own dress. "People will definitely talk if we aren't waiting on Liam's announcement with the rest of them."

Her shimmery red dress pooled at her feet. With the way the gown was cut, it was impossible to wear a bra. Since she knew what they would get up to, she'd also decided against wearing any underwear whatsoever.

She felt her skin tingle in anticipation. Maxwell's bright blue eyes had darkened as he gazed upon her form. He hadn't moved a muscle as her dress slipped down her body. He'd only followed its path, taking in every bit of skin revealed.

Without a word nor taking his eyes off of her, he slowly shrugged out of his clothes.

Olivia felt her desire notch even higher. The serious expression on his face took her by surprise. She'd expected him to practically rush into her arms once she was naked. This unexpected side of him made her be the one to move towards him.

She draped her arms around his neck, pressing her pale body against the toned, hard planes of his own. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.

"Touch me." She nearly begged against his mouth.

His hands cupped her face, thumb brushing against her lower lip. Silently he moved them down her body, only pausing when she gasped or moved restlessly against him.

The lower he went, the more she wanted. Grabbing his wrists, she pulled him over the to bed.

She sat down on the edge and tilted her head up when he remained standing. Her eyes met his.

"Say something." She pleaded, feeling suddenly nervous over his continued silence.

Swallowing, Maxwell knelt before her. His hands ran along her smooth legs, his eyes never leaving hers.

In a gravely voice, he said.

"I want you. I've always wanted you."

He surged up, pushing her down on the bed, lips crashing on hers.

She moaned, pulling him as close as she could. Her breath hitched when he broke away to kiss down her body. Scrambling back some to give him more room, she cried out in ecstasy when his tongue brushed against the tips of her breasts. The moment his lips closed around and sucked, she ran her hands through his hair, keeping him there as he sent desire through her veins.

His moans and whispers of how perfect she was made her heart ache as he continued to worship down her body. His determination to kiss and lap at every single inch made her writhe and scream his name in a litany that surprised her. Every touch of his hands, his lips, and body made her wish for the impossible.

She didn't want to have to walk away from him.

The moment he slid within her, she couldn't help but think how right it felt. It wasn't all supposed to clock this easily or this quickly. Shouldn't her experiment need more time? Had she been denying the truth in front of her longer than she first thought?

Unnerved by the realization, she cupped his face and kissed him more tenderly than she'd ever done with anyone.

The slow momentum he'd begun stopped the moment she wrapped her legs around his hips. She urged him on, moving faster towards what they both needed.

He harshly cried out her name when she clinched around him. A breathless whisper of his own name escaped her as she succumbed to the sensations he'd caused.

They laid there, still connected and holding tight to one another as their breaths began to slow.

Maxwell rose up some on his elbows to look at her face. A tender smile formed as he saw the brief look of wonder in her sated expression.

"Wow." He said, softly kissing her. "My imagination really, really sucks."

She snorted in disbelief that he could make her want to laugh at a moment like this.

"Does it?"

He nodded, lips brushing hers once more.

"Nothing in my fantasies could possibly live up to tonight."

"I take it you enjoyed yourself?" She couldn't help but smile while thoroughly enjoying the feel of him pressing her into the mattress.

"Couldn't you tell?" He eased off of her, rolled into his back, and pulled her on top of him.

"Oh I could." She settled more comfortably against him. "In case you are the least bit curious, I liked it too."

His grin blossomed in hearing that. A part of her was tempted to go into how much she loved being with him and in how she didn't want it to end.

She knew she couldn't. This would have to be a one and done experience.

At least until I finish my investigation and destroy whatever evidence I discover.

And possibly dispose the body of my blackmailer.

It was odd to willingly remain in his arms to bask in the afterglow. Normally she couldn't leave or kick her lovers out fast enough. She never wanted to talk or simply be held. They'd provided a service to her passionate nature and were no longer needed.

But Maxwell...

She wanted this. She wanted to hear any ridiculous thing that came to his mind. She loved the fact that he needed to touch her. His hands drifting down her back in lazy caresses was exactly what she needed while gazing at his handsome face. She loved seeing how perfectly content he was in this moment.

It reflected her own feelings with him.

Knowing he would insist on when their next night together could be if she didn't say or do something, she pressed a lingering kiss to his lips.

His arms wrapped around her with body already responding to her touch once more.

Moaning in frustration that they didn't have time for another round, she forced herself to leave his arms.

"We better hurry." She said while swiping up her dress on the way to the ensuite.

Maxwell hopped off of the bed and caught her before she made it inside.

He wrapped his arms around her from behind when she relaxed back against him and pressed a sweet kiss to her neck.

"Tonight meant everything to me, Liv." He admitted in a heartfelt tone.

Tears blurred her vision. She turned to respond with a deep kiss, holding him close for one last time before escaping.

Leaning against the bathroom door, she whispered.

"It meant everything to me too, Max."

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

A short time later, Olivia found Liam talking to Riley in one of the acloves along the outer edges of the ballroom. Preparing herself for the inevitable, she told him she needed to speak to him.

When he seemed reluctant to leave Riley's side, Olivia blurted out that she was leaving.

"Why?" He searched her eyes for a sign of why she would leave before the ceremony was completed.

"There's no reason for me to stay." She glanced at Riley, hoping he would think it was because of her she was leaving.

She couldn't tell him the truth, especially when she wasn't certain what the truth was.

Liam stepped closer, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"What about the person you told me about? Don't you want to see if it's love or--"

She shook her head. "That's not going to happen now."

Saying goodbye before he could question her further, she turned on her heel and left all while ignoring the couple calling out for her to wait.

She made it outside and down the steps of the palace before being stopped.

"Wait a second!" Riley breathlessly pleaded. "Are you okay?"

"Like you care." Olivia snapped.

"I do." Riley gripped her hand. "I wouldn't chase you down if I didn't."

"Why would you?" Olivia grumbled, wrenching her hand free. "It isn't like we're friends."

"I thought we were on our way to being just that." Riley argued.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "I don't have time for this."

"Yes, you do." Riley moved and blocked her way into the waiting town car. "Now what's going on?"

Olivia handed over the letter. She didn't know what possessed her to trust this woman with it, but she suddenly wanted someone to know the truth of why she was running away. For some reason, she believed Riley would keep this secret.

Either I'm a fool for giving her something to hold over me, or she really is all that Maxwell claims.

Without a word, Riley scanned the contents, her mouth dropping open when she got to the end.

"Who did this to you?" She demanded.

"That's what I'm going to find out." Olivia snatched the letter back .

"We need to find them and demand the truth." Riley said, her own temper snapping at the thought of someone blackmailing Olivia.

"We?" Olivia laughed without humor. "There is no we in this. I have to find them. You," she sighed, "you have to go be with Liam."

"You're going to need help." Riley insisted.

She reluctantly stepped out of the way so Olivia could get into the backseat.

With the window rolled down, the fiery duchess reached out and grasped her hand in quiet gratitude.

"I'll be fine on my own."

"Do you think it's true?" Riley asked.

"I don't know." Olivia went to let go and found Riley holding tight to her hand once more.

"I promise I'll help you. I won't tell anyone that you're being blackmailed. Just tell me what you need and we'll get to the bottom of this. You shouldn't have to--"

"Stop." Olivia pleaded. She was surprised by Riley's fervent speech to help and by her own temptation to accept it. "Thank you, but you can't."

Easing her hand away, she nodded towards the palace.

"Go be with Liam. He needs you more than I do." She lowered the privacy barrier and told her driver she was ready. "And Riley?"

"Yes?"

"Watch your back." Olivia warned.

[ownworldresident]

Side by Side Masterlist (Updated)

Book: The Royal Romance.Premise: With new additions to their family, King Liam and Rayne are forced to re-evaluate their relationship dynamic. Themes: Found family, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, family. Word Count: 3.2k (ish) per chapter, 18 chapters. 57k. Note: This story started just after TRR3 ended, and has no association with TRH. Master Masterlist Link

Heads up: For those who read the original Side by Side (hi!) many moons ago, in order to write myself out of a corner I have revamped it and altered a lot of things. The older chapters still exist in the Void but the links are no longer on my fic masterlist.

Releasing weekly on Fridays/Saturdays.

Not A Fairy Tale

The Agreement

Legitimate

Resolve

Influence

Parent or Guardian

Challenger - 7.1. Interlude.

Custody

Renewal

Pressure

Last Chance

The Plan

Everything

Instinct

The Calm Before

Loyalties

Family

Side by Side

Current tag list: @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @kingliam2019 @angelasscribbles @mainstreetreader @malblk21 @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @tinkie1973 @lovingchoices14

Past tag list: @leelee10898 @indiacater @speedyoperarascalparty @brightpinkpeppercorn @riseandshinelittleblossom @bella-ca @custaroonie @thequeenofcronuts @lodberg @kuladekiwi @mfackenthal @carabeth @romanticatheart-posts @blackcoffee85 @whenyourheartskipsabeat @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore

[socalwriterbee]

The Lighthouse

Choices Book: The Royal Romance

Characters: Maxwell Beaumont x Olivia Nevrakis

Rating/Warning: Smut ⚠️⚠️ 18+ Adult Content ⚠️⚠️

Word Count: 1202

Base in Play: 3rd (Spring Fever Pitch Day 4: FUN)

Summary: At a Cordonian Event, two things are not as they seem.

A/N: This story comes from the Wheel of Smut, sorry the Concession Stand for Spring Fever Pitch 🤣. This is possibly the second fic I write for TRR, it was/is nerve wrecking and I hope I do these two justice. Boy! what a way to get my feet wet into the TRR world. Day 4 of Spring Fever is a FUN event and we know how much Maxwell loves events, Olivia not so much. Maybe this will change her mind...

A/N 2: This scenario is between two consenting adults. Edging of sorts will be taking place for the pleasure of both characters. It's a bit tame but the essences (my version) of a Dom/Sub relationship is in play, please if that is not your cup of tea, you won't be hurting my feelings if you stop here. Sorry not sorry, I read too much spicy romance (kidding that is not a thing, you can never read too much) but that is where I get inspiration for the writing style.

A/N 3: Concession Stand Prompts in use; frisky (word prompt) "Don't make me take you home and punish you." (sentence prompt) Lighthouse (location prompt) The Royal Romance (book prompt)

Characters Belong to Pixelberry

⚠️⚠️continuing to read past this point you agree that you are 18+⚠️⚠️

****

A gasping moan fills the empty space. My back pressing against the cold white walls. The beacon of light turned off but still rotating in the daylight, waiting to guide those at sea once the darkness covers the sky. The sound of fingers pounding into flesh christening the walls of the Kings new lighthouse. 

I found myself with my dress hiked up around my waist, my thong pushed off to the side and me wet, very wet.

The pressure of his thumb right there on my aching clit, silently begging for more, knowing that my pleads won’t be taken unless it was for his pleasure. Long, more than likely manicured but surprisingly strong fingers thrusting inside me. The need to feel more of this man burning me from the inside.

But he refuses to touch me more than were he wants. He only gives me the touch of his fingers on my sex, his other hand firmly gripping over my covered hip. His breath teasing along my neck, refusing to give me the pressure of his mouth on my sizzling skin. 

“Please.” I beg.

I swear I could feel, if not hear him smile. That wicked smile he gets when he has me, Olivia Nevrakis, The Duchess of Lythikos on my knees, at his mercy. Never did I think this would ever happen, me at the mercy of a man.

Especially this man.

Maxwell Beaumont.

“Please what Livvy?” His throaty tone making me squeeze his fingers, that movement begging without a word escaping from my mouth, begging to let me jump of the cliff and into the pool of ecstasy.

The ecstasy this man plays with at his pleasure and my pain.

“Use your words. You know I like when you snap that pretty tongue at me.” Maxwell chuckles, the thrusting of his fingers finding that spot that makes me sees stars.

I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want this man. I was a Duchess, I was smart, lethal, loyal and— and…his.

I was his.

His Livvy.

I belonged to Maxwell Beaumont and my sharp tongue earlier got me in this situation. We were to be ourselves, we were after all surrounded by the royal court and its people, getting frisky was not in the cards. 

This was more than getting frisky, this was a punishment. A punishment that he saw fit in this moment, hoping against all that he would let me come and not withhold that from me, from himself.

But I knew that may not be the ending I would get, need, when his ocean colored eyes locked on me when I called him out for being well, Maxwell.

His words still in the back of my mind, making me more aroused. “Don’t make me take you home and punish you.”

Those words made my skin prickle, the bareness of my breast beneath my dress tugging my nipples tight and the ache, oh the ache, between my legs from the promise of his punishment.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” I snapped back.

The flare in his eyes and tensing of his jaw at my defiant words, held true the promise of his words for later. 

But right now wasn’t later, and the promise of his dominance over me was waiting for a more private setting, this was just the beginning. This was to remind me of who he was and what power he held over me. And damn me if I did not love it, because I did.

I loved it.

“You want to come, don’t you.” His words blurring away the thoughts of our bodies pressed against each other, of Maxwell claiming me as his even when no one knew I was.

His lips pressing against the base of my neck, the heat from his mouth felt cool against my burning skin, making me moan from being satisfied from something so simple.

“Yes.” I murmur.

Maxwell locks his eyes with mine, that wicked grin returning at my admission that I needed him. That I needed him to sedate the fire that burned for him. The thrust of his fingers moving faster between my thighs, I clench around him even more, the cusp of my orgasm within reach.

The fullness that was inside me disappears and the ache of being empty sits heavy deep down. Wet fingers brush my lips, my tongue darting out tasting my arousal. “Open your mouth Olivia.”

I do and once Maxwell’s fingers hit my tongue, I close my mouth around them, twirling my tongue and cleaning myself off his fingers. 

Once satisfied, Maxwell pops his fingers out, hooking his forefinger under my chin tilting it up he presses a searing kiss on my lips.

Opening to let him take what he wants and he does with no hesitation. Our tongues moving with each other, the moments when I am usually dominate, I’ve come to surrender to Maxwell. My hands normally taking what I want, lay at my sides aching to touch him but knowing that I can’t. Knowing he wants me just as much as he made me crave him, knowing how much I want to take his hard length in my hands and dish out the same punishment he has given me.

But I don’t. Not with him. The punishment is mine to receive, not give.

Maxwell knows this part of me well as if he were reading my mind, never breaking our kiss the one that begins to burn my lungs from the lack of air. His hand moving down from holding my chin to his fingertips brushing down my neck to the valley between my breast and over the clothed middle of my stomach. 

The softness of his hand stroking up my outer thigh, roaming over the outline of my thong as he fixes it back over my sex. A rumble of disappointment pours into his mouth, that grin returning as he begins to pull away but not before I bite his lower lip. The metallic taste of drawn blood settles on my tongue as I lick my lips.

Maxwell wipes the small drop of blood from his lips and sucks it off his thumb. “Your gonna pay for that Duchess.”

Maxwell moves away from me, taking the heat of the moment with him as he adjusts himself and I fix my dress back down. 

A smirk of my own settles on my face. “I look forward to it My Lord.”

The voices of our King and Queen calling out for him and then for me, officially ending this moment between us. The life of the party missing and the water to douse that flame gone as well, turning to make my exit from the top of the lighthouse, I look over my shoulder seeing the last glimpse of my dominating Maxwell, the one I lived to please, darken at my words flash once more before The Party Beast he plays well for the world settles back in.

As my armor erects back into place, masking everything that I felt and everything that would make me look weak in the eyes of the court because even in my surrender to Maxwell Beaumont…

I was Olivia Nevrakis. Duchess of Lythikos.

****

event tag: @springfeverpitch

[masked-alien-lesbian]

TRR Squad crossover High School Series

Even though Hana would prefer to be in the band rather than a cheerleader, her parents signed her up for cheerleading. To be a cheerleader at Oliver M. Berry High School is to be in the elite squad. Cheerleaders date athletes not the nerds in the band. And yet Hana and Raelyn find themselves drawn to each other. Can they face all the cattiness and high school cliques? Or will the cheerleading squad and the band get in between the two star-crossed lovers?

Riley is busy trying to pass her classes and going head to head with her rival and Hearst's softball star Olivia Nevrakis. She doesn't have time for a love triangle between Liam, Berry's basketball star, and his best friend Drake, the star linebacker for Berry's football team. But this is high school and with young love, hearts are bound to be broken.

[fadingreveries]

The Royal Romance Retelling Masterlist

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

The Royal Romance, Book 1 🏰 - Bk1 Ch1: Once Upon a Time (part 1/part 2/part 3/part 4/part 5/part 6/part 7) - Bk1 Ch2: Welcome to Cordonia (part 1/part 2/part 3/part 4/part 5) - Bk1 Ch3: Reunited