#trr future

[alj4890]

Making it Believable

(Prince Emerick Rhys x Juliet Nevrakis-Walker) in a Choices The Royal Romance *While We're Young AU* drabble

Thirty Kisses in Thirty Days Challenge with the prompt: kissing to pretend that you are in a relationship together.

A/N It's been a long time since I've written for this pair. I've had a lot of anonymous requests for more for these two which I've tried to keep up with occasional drabbles. When I saw this kiss prompt, I knew it was made for them and their fake dating relationship happening in the few drabbles since the series went on hiatus (which we will get back to soon). I'd also promised @lodberg another glimpse into their evolving relationship. Here they are doing something I know you've been anxious for. 😉

@lodberg ​​ @hopefulmoonobject ​​ @vickypoochoices ​​ @zaffrenotes ​​   @mynameiskaylabella ​​ @museofbooks ​​ @elbenmond ​​  @gibbles82 ​​  @krsnlove ​ @twinkleallnight @tessa-liam @hopelessromantic1352

Rating: G for fluff

Masterlist

"This is a disaster!"

Juliet stormed into the crown prince's chambers and slammed down a stack of magazines on his desk.

"Lady Juliet," Emerick quipped while leaning back in his desk chair, "always a pleasure to see you."

She glared at him. "I don't have time for your ridiculous charm." She pointed at the magazines. "Just look at what they're writing about us!"

He did as commanded, scanning each cover that had a picture of them together. Many of the headlines questioned whether or not their relationship was going to lead to marriage.

Then there were those that were comparing what they were like in previous relationships to the one they supposedly were in.

"I knew it was too good to be true." Juliet flopped across his couch. "After all our hard work to keep you free from marriage proposals and me from annoying noblemen, the people finally realize we aren't really together."

Emerick stroked his jaw while flipping through some of the articles. He studied the pictures of the two of them together that were lined up with them and their exes.

He grimaced somewhat at all the images of himself kissing various women. Juliet's past wasn't much better, but at least she maintained a relationship longer than he did.

"Say something!" She demanded when he remained in silent study.

"We have two options." Emerick declared.

She sat up on her elbows and cocked an eyebrow in question.

"One, we simply ignore this and let the people believe the actual truth about us being only friends."

"Or?" She prodded when he hesitated.

"Or we make it believable the next time we are caught by the press."

"And by believable you mean...?"

"We kiss, Jules." He stated in an even, nonchalant tone.

Juliet sputtered. "Excuse me?"

"Come now." He got to his feet. "We're both adults who have had experience. It isn't like we're teenagers who've never had a kiss in their lives."

Juliet simply stared at him with her jaw dropped.

"What?" He asked.

"I can't believe you're serious!" She shouted. "Emerick, you're...well...you're you!"

He rolled his eyes. "And?"

"And you're talking about kissing me. ME!" She shook her head. "This fake dating was supposed to save us headaches not cause more of them."

"What's worse?" He stopped her from turning away from him. "Kissing me, a man you've known since infancy, one you trust, a friend;" he stressed, "or being mauled by one of the many noblemen who want a connection with Lythikos?"

"Geez, must you put it like that?" She folded her arms.

"It's the same for me." He reminded her. "It's either kissing you for one picture or being hounded by women hoping to become a princess."

Juliet mulled it over.

Emerick knew he'd won when her head dropped back.

"Fine! I'll kiss you."

"You don't have to make it sound like a chore." He teased, winking at her. "I know some ladies who can vouch for my kisses being a rather pleasant experience."

Her eyes narrowed.

"I don't care if you have a thousand ladies vouch for your kisses." She huffed in irritation. "It's still weird."

"Why?"

"Because we've known each other forever." She snapped. "You're best friends with my brother!"

"So? You're best friends with mine." He countered. "And that whole knowing each other forever bit doesn't really matter."

"Why doesn't it?"

"Look at Nicky and Jackson." He pointed out with a cheeky grin. "They grew up together and clearly have no problem kissing each other.

Juliet closed her eyes and counted to twenty to try and control her temper.

"My brother and Nicky are in love. We are not."

Emerick shrugged as if that was neither here nor there.

Juliet's fists clenched. She might not feel like kissing him but she certainly felt like punching him in his stupid, ridiculously handsome face.

"Look," he tried to reason, "we've had some fun on our," he made quotation marks with his fingers, "dates, haven't we?"

She reluctantly nodded. As much as she wished she could deny it, Juliet really did enjoy her dates with the prince.

"This one kiss isn't going to change anything between us, Jules." He promised. "We do it, make certain the press takes all the necessary pictures, and we can then resume our normal time together fooling the masses."

Juliet ran a hand through her red hair.

"You're right." She mumbled.

"What was that?" He leaned his ear towards her. "I didn't quite catch that."

"I said you're right!" She snapped.

Emerick placed his hand over his heart.

"My lady, I am overcome." He dropped to one knee before her and pressed her hand to his lips. "To hear such a sweet declaration from you, it is all I have ever hoped for."

Despite wanting to remain irritated with him, Juliet began to laugh at his overly dramatic teasing.

Emerick beamed at her for being such a good sport throughout these months of subterfuge.

"So when are we doing this?" She asked.

"Whenever you wish." He sat back down behind his desk to check his schedule. "We have a ball at Ramsford in two weeks. There's the dinner with the Chamber of Commerce next Friday. Then--"

"I think we should get it over with as soon as possible." She decided.

Emerick looked up at her in surprise. Was the notion of kissing him that disgusting to her?

Juliet's cheeks heated with a touch of color. "If we put it off, I'm going to be more nervous about it."

Emerick didn't think he could be any more shocked than he was hearing her say something like that. Juliet was a young woman who never got nervous. She had enough of the Nevrakis confidence in her mixed with the Walker's not caring what anyone else thought persona that was simply Jules.

She was typically unflappable in any situation. Her quick, dry wit intermingled with her fiery temper to keep others from daring to say anything cutting to her. She was respected and feared amongst many members of the Royal Court.

He'd come to depend on that these last few months. Though she could drive him crazy at times, he appreciated those personality quirks of hers along with her logical, no nonsense way of thinking. She had surprisingly become a person whose advice he readily sought.

He saw the type of noble she was becoming. Her loyalty and steadfast nature came from both her parents and he couldn't be more grateful to have it for himself.

Of all his friends though, he was surprised how much he had come to enjoy every moment with her. Even their arguments left him feeling energized. There was something about her that he...

Emerick stopped that train of thought.

He did wonder why a simple kiss had the power to make her nervous.

Juliet hated admitting to such a weakness in front of him. She knew it sounded ridiculous. Goodness knows, she'd never been one to try and tame her passionate nature. Emerick had even been one of her friends who'd caught her in more than one embrace with different men over the years.

But the thought of kissing him...

She didn't know what to think about the feelings that particular notion stirred within her. No man frustrated her nor made her laugh quite like Emerick did. He never stepped back from going toe to toe with her, nor was he cowed like many of the other nobles when she was angry.

He was infuriating with how charming he could be. His flirtatious nature had been with him since birth. It was effortless on his part and she realized through her time spent one on one with him that it was typically used to put one at ease.

Though many assumed he was carefree, she'd come to see the more serious side to his personality. She knew how much he valued his family and their close knit group of friends, but she was also catching glimpses into the type of king he would one day become.

She admired him and was usually proud of the decisions and arguments he made in terms of their country. She would have no problem respecting him as her king once Uncle Liam stepped down from the throne.

She did worry though over the thought of some woman coming along and trapping Emerick in a marriage. Like his father, the prince possessed a tender heart. He'd never stepped back when someone was in need. Once he cared about someone or an issue, he threw himself into it with everything he had.

He needed to be protected. She now understood why her father had remained by Liam's side until he met Riley. She realized that it was up to her to be that for Emerick. She knew her brother, Jackson, felt the same way about the prince but he was a little caught up with Lady Nicky Beaumont to give all his free time to this endeavor.

Which might explain why she didn't put up much of a fight when Emerick suggested they do this fake dating for the social season.

At least that's what it was in the beginning...

Juliet put a stop to her wayward thoughts. She was not going to join the ranks of hundreds of women enamored with the crown prince.

But this kiss...what if she...if he...

She got to her feet.

"Let's go out tonight or tomorrow."

Emerick slowly nodded. "If that's what you wish."

"It is." She lowered her eyes. "Something casual. I don't think we need to kiss at some court event."

Emerick's brow furrowed as he observed her.

She really is nervous.

"How about tomorrow afternoon?" He offered.

"Sounds good." She stumbled to his door. "I'll see you for lunch then."

Before he could say another word, she hurried out of his room.

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

The spring day had turned chilly and damp. Emerick and Juliet thought that was the perfect setting to make the kiss more believable. It wouldn't look staged now, especially since they weren't supposed to be posing for the press at an event.

The two walked through the capital, hand in hand, as they made their way to an outdoor cafe they were known to frequent. Other than the palace guards following at a respectable distance, the two basically had the sidewalk to themselves.

Emerick decided during a night of tossing and turning in bed, that it would be best to catch Juliet off guard with the kiss. He worried that if he forewarned her about when it would happen, she would be even more nervous and the kiss wouldn't appear authentic.

She was already clutching his hand and arm. He didn't know if the occasional trembles he felt were from the cold breeze or from her nerves.

Once the two were seated at a patio table and had their orders placed, he reached over and took her hand once more.

He could hear the clicks of cameras from some not so well hidden paparazzi.

Juliet smiled at him, squeezing his hand.

He held her gaze as he lifted their clasped hands to his lips.

Emerick could feel her tense at the touch she'd felt many times throughout the years.

"Jules." He said softly.

She lowered her eyes to his mouth.

He leaned forward and slipped his hand into her hair, tugging her forward as he pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

He was doing fine maintaining what was going to be a simple kiss until she reached up and cupped his cheek.

Her lips parted under his allowing him to deepen the kiss. He could taste the beginning of her fiery nature as her tongue caressed his.

Her husky moan took him by surprise as she pulled him closer to her.

They barely pulled apart to catch their breaths, before he dipped back down, sucking her bottom lip.

Her breath hitched, a flash of her green eyes met his blue before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her mouth slanted over his, drawing him back into another passionate kiss.

Emerick nearly yanked her into his lap. If not for their waiter, clearing his throat, their kiss would most likely still be going. And where it would have led, startled them both.

"Emerick?" She whispered. "Stop staring at me like that."

Juliet knew she was looking at him just like he was her, as if seeing each other for the first time.

He lowered his eyes and quickly picked up his glass of water. He hoped as he gulped it down that it would cool the desire he felt for her in that kiss.

Emerick made the mistake of glancing at her again. He saw the slight redness around her mouth where his stubble had rubbed against her porcelain skin. The sight brought on another flash of heat over his body.

Juliet's eyes drifted back to his mouth as she sipped her own ice water. She was tempted to put the glass to her cheeks as she thought of how it felt being kissed by him. It made her want to do it again.

No wonder he said he had numerous ladies who could vouch for his kisses, she thought to herself.

"Well," Emerick tried to joke to break the tension, "I think we managed to make our relationship believable."

Her lips curved a touch proudly.

"Yeah, I think we did."

Their eyes met while smiles formed on their faces.

"Was it as dreadful as you thought it would be?" He whispered.

Emerick expected her to tease him about being a bad kisser.

Juliet instead lowered her eyes to his mouth once more.

"On the contrary," she lifted her water glass as if she was about to offer a toast, "I didn't find it dreadful at all."

Emerick tapped his glass against hers.

With a wink, he said.

"Neither did I."

[uselessgay10101]

Hana.. yknow I love you-

But-

WHY

[moldygreenblue]

hhgttg's 2005 movie and asoue 2004 movie are the same to me:

movies that i like and enjoy so much (and i still do to this day) i sought out the original source material (hhgttg took longer given it was a radio series and i legit at the find could only find the complete first series and parts of the later series before giving up), and while i see their flaws as adaptations (which after seeking the og source i can see are clear as day and i go 'WHY'), i will defend elements of the two movies they did right/made so creativity it works.

[queenmiarys]

Face claim: Michael Yerger

Name: Jackson Drake walker

Birthday: July. 10th

Age: 29

Height: 6'3

Hair color: Dark brown

Eye color: brown

Family: parents Jackson and Bianca Walker

Siblings: Savannah Beaumont

Educational background: A.M University of Texas

Marital status: Single

Occupation: Private security

Interests/hubbies: camping, hiking, good food, a good movie

Facts about self: I'm real no matter who's around, I'll always be me.

Favorite movie: The matrix

Favorite music: I mostly like adult alternative, jaz-z, and country.

@choicesficwriterscreations @harleybeaumont @alj4890 @angelasscribbles @kingliam-rys @kingliam2019 @yaniradolton @yolandawalker @hanaleeappreciationweek @mom2000aggie @lilyoffandoms @katurrade @shewillreadyou @bebepac @dcbbw @luvquit @lolablackwrites @choiceskatie @tessa-liam @queenjilian @queenrileyrose @ao719

[secretaryunpaid]

Happy Holidays & Season’s Greetings From the King & Queen of Cordonia!!!!

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

Truth spell, insults are lies if you don’t believe them - cursed Merlin, Arthur isn’t actually a dollophead

So it’s only a one shot with few thousand words, but basically Merlin gets cursed with a truth spell by a witch who was frustrated that Emrys hadn’t even told the once and future king that magic isn’t good or bad, it just is. He’s not compelled to say anything, his secrets are his own, but if he tries to lie the truth comes out.

They realise what the curse is when Arthur asks Merlin if he’s okay in his own way of insulting him and Merlin can only compliment him in return,

This is sort of the general vibe of it summed up in a bit of dialogue:

Arthur: Merlin, why the hell would you jump in front of a curse!

Merlin: I wasn't going to let you get hurt.

Arthur: You idiot! You’re not a knight!

Merlin, increasingly more passionately complimenting him as he tries and fails to insult him: Well you're a reckless good man and I care about you too much! I- I mean- you're a great king! You're smart and pretty!

(Arthur’s stood there looking shocked, unable to react, getting slightly flustered at being called pretty. Merlin realises there’s one insult that still works because it’s become a term of endearment for him)

Merlin: Prat! Haha! It works!

Merlin: You're a prat and I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt!

Merlin: Damnit! Why isn’t this working?!

Arthur, realising what’s happening, teasing: Why isn’t what working, Merlin?

Merlin: Calling you a kind hearted, too good, smart and talented golden kingly prat! I give up! *storms off into the woods*

Then there’s a confession, cute Merthur moments, and Arthur gets to learn about magic because Merlin needs to tell him the trr about it before the spell can be broken.

If anyone has any ideas for what I can name this, it’d be greatly appreciated. The titles are always the worst part of fics

[choicesfandomappreciation]

Choices Spread Kindness

@rosesnink - To one of the funniest and nicest people I know. Your raw talent and great ideas that you put into your stories is certainly something to admire. I’m still so happy we’re friends and hope we can interact more in the near future 😍Thank you for being you and thank you for being in this fandom 😍🩷

@takemyopenheart - I am beyond grateful we’re friends. More than I can say. Our talks and the goofiness and sincerity there is in our friendship, makes me want to book a flight and say ”Girl. Next round is on me.“ We need to make this happen 😍🩷

@angelasscribbles - Ange 😍 Okay first of all let me just say thank you! For everything you’ve said, for every good piece of advice you’ve shared with me. For your talent to write, not giving a damn about what others think of you. You’re confident in your writing and you know how to make a good story, it might not be my cup of tea all the time, but I admire you a lot for it. You would be one of the people I wouldn’t be scared to show my writing (if I ever published something) to and know I’d be in good hands. Also thank you for organizing the writers group. I can’t wait to chat with all of you again 🩷🩷

@renninflight - I know we haven’t interacted that much but I still wanted to send a lot of hugs your way. When I lost my dad (it still feels weird to say that, but I’m trying to get used to it, and you know what the good thing is? He’s never truly gone, he’ll always stay in my heart and in my memories 🩷) But you were there for me you sent messages and asks (sorry some of them I still have to answer 🙈) but it feels nice to know I’m not alone and for that I thank you. Thank you for being so nice & amazing. Keep on shining 🩷

@liaromancewriter - You were among the first people who’s stories came across my dashboard when I first joined tumblr. And I still love them like I did the first time I read them. Thank you for making me laugh and sit on the edge of my seat when I read your stories. Thank you for being here on tumblr 🥰🩷

@karahalloway - Kara 🌸 You were one of the first friends I made and you were the one who clarified the difference between an OC and an MC in fanfiction, which I was so embarrassed to even ask about, but thank you for explaining that to me and not making me feel stupid or weird about it. Your talent as a writer is inspiring to me, and even though I haven’t been as active, I‘ll always admire you for talent to write and to simply be an amazing person. Thank you for being my friend and thank you for being there for me when it was tough for me 🩷

@potionsprefect - Alice! I also wanted to give you a huge thanks for being in this fandom. There were many times your stories and edits made me laugh and made me had a great time with. Helping me through a tough day or help me with my anxiety. Thank you for being here, it means the world to me that we get to read and share your stories 🥰 🩷

@storyofmychoices - Dani! You are without a doubt one of the nicest and sweetest people I’ve ever met. Knowing you have your struggles and certainly your own pain that you’re dealing with, you still stand above it, send kind messages to almost the whole fandom. That? I call genuine & kind. And your stories? Olivia & Bryce are one of my absolute favorite couples. (And no it’s not just because it’s Bryce but that might have something to do with it. I mean can you blame me? He’s attractive 😍) But seriously thank you for being here, organizing all these wonderful events, going out of your way to make people feel welcome and appreciated. Thank you sending a big pink heart your way 🩷

@kristinamae093 - I was so happy when you first joined tumblr I was like yay another person to be friends with and then I discovered you’re an Aries ♈️ like me double yay 😍 But seriously when I read one of your stories when you first joined I was like damn I wasn’t a huge fan of TRR but I might become one 🥰 Thank you for sharing your stories with us you’re such a talented writer don’t let anyone tell you different.

💛

[choices-binglebonkus]

Replaying TRR again, but this time, I’m buying all the diamond scenes.

Maxwell is a pretty well-written character with a reasonable balance between courtly etiquette and goofy antics for most of book 1. I’ve said before that his Flanderization into an incessant party mosquito started in book 2, but now that I’m replaying the series and buying all the scenes, it feels like he started to take a subtle turn for the obnoxious at the tail end of book 1. Personally, after replaying, I felt that Maxwell dipped his toes into the annoying pool in chapter 16, then went waist deep in chapter 17 and didn’t recover after that.

Which, coincidentally, seems to have been when the writers shifted gears and started to try and work up to Maxwell eventually becoming a love interest in book 2 despite not originally being marketed as one.

In chapter 18 during his dance-off with Hana in her diamond scene, the MC is presented with the option to announce him into the challenge as “Unexpected Heartthrob”…which speaks for itself.

In chapter 19, during his diamond scene, the MC can kiss Maxwell on the cheek (which flusters him) AND ask him if she’ll ever see him without his shirt on. If neither of these choices are flirting, I’m not sure what is.

But what likely pushed the writers to add more romance-adjacent choices to Maxwell’s dynamic with the MC occurred way before these chapters. All the way back in chapter 8 when the MC is doing the Cordonian Waltz (a courtship dance, might I add) with Maxwell in Lythikos, the MC can either tell him that she thinks the dance is a little scandalous for the ballroom…or, in stark contrast, how there’s no one else she’d rather be dancing with, which Maxwell gently rebukes her for.

And then in chapter 10, the MC can tell Maxwell she’s looking forward to spending time with him on the beach. This particular interaction is noteworthy because it grants the MC a Maxwell relationship point. Throughout the first and second books, the MC can gain relationship points (NOTE: different from romance points) with Liam, Drake, Hana, and even Olivia. This instance in chapter 10 is the only relationship point that can ever be gained with Maxwell. Yes, ever.

I’m thinking these two originally small and insignificant choices in chapter 8 and 10 gained so much attention from fans that Pixelberry realized Maxwell had potential as a love interest, leading them to sprinkle in some rewrites in book one that hinted at a future romance. These rewrites could also explain why chapter 10’s interaction is the only instance of us gaining a relationship point with Maxwell: Pixelberry likely rewrote scenes with choices that originally granted more Maxwell relationship points and forgot to replace them after.

So while they went way heavier on the buildup to Maxwell becoming a love interest in book 2, the signs were there early on, and they gradually built up to Maxwell becoming less of a bumbling but well-meaning guide to the MC, and more of an air-headed, foolhardy, childish pest.

And honestly? It makes me wonder: how might Maxwell’s character have been different if the writers didn’t turn him into a love interest? Would he have kept his early/mid-book 1 personality? Would Maxwell have pursued a relationship with Penelope? Would his role in the story have gradually lessened like Bertrand’s did? How might he have affected future books like TRH/TRF?

[choicesficwriterscreations]

It's that time of year again! Thank you to the creators who have shared their Top 5 creations of 2023 according to Tumblr note count. The Creator's Pick Top 5 will be posted this weekend! Links to all fics can be found below the break.

@aallotarenunelma ✒️

So This is Love (BOLAS) - Aerin Valleros x M!elf!MC

Distant Light (BOLAS) - Tyril Starfury x F!elf!MC

Indigo Night (ID) - Cassius Harlow x NB!MC, NB!OC

Répondez, s'il vous plaît! 3 (ILS/ID) - Various Pairings

Sophomore Secret (ILITW) - Dan Pierce x F!MC, M!OC

@angelasscribbles ✒️

A Fervid Fixation (TRR) Ⓜ️ - Drake Walker x MC

In Your Room (TRR) Ⓜ️- Drake Walker x Leo Rys

The Dark Kingdom (TRR) Ⓜ️ - Various Pairings

Dark Elf (TRR) Ⓜ️- Various Pairings

Heir Apparent (TRR) Ⓜ️- Drake Walker x MC, Liam Rys

@baldwinboy5ive 🎨

Blades Coffee Shop AU (BOLAS) - Aerin Valleros x MC

I Will Drag Him Back (BOLAS) - Tyril Starfury & Aerin Valleros

The Spray Bottle (BOLAS) - Imtura, Mal, Aerin

Aerin Instagram (BOLAS) - Aerin Valleros

The Prison Visit (BOLAS) - Aerin Valleros x MC

@cariantha ✒️

Accidental Valentine (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

If Only I Could (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Code Yellow (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

A Kiss on the Hand (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Daddy Distress (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

@inlocusmads ✒️

Intro To Negotiation Science (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

A Strange & Sudden Companionship (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

Cross Your Hearts & Set it Ablaze (COP) - Trystan Thorn x F!MC

Partner (Disambiguation) (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

New York, June 2014 (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

@jerzwriter ✒️

A Different Fate, Part 1 (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

What Happened in Vegas, Part 4 (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Abundance (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

The Perfect Gift (OH) - Tobias Carrick x F!MC

Take Me Out (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

@ladylamrian ✒️

Welcome to the World of Night (NB) - Nightbound MC

Bound by Fate (NB) - Nik Ryder x F!MC

A Meeting in Wyoming (NB) - Nik Ryder x F!MC

Wedding Proposal (NB) - Nik Ryder x F!MC

OC Headcanons (NB)

@liaromancewriter ✒️

Every Day (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Summer Romance (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Beautiful Stranger (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Sleeping Beauty (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Something to Talk About (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

@noesapphic ✒️

The Other Woman (D&D) - Roselyn Sinclaire, Ernest Sinclaire, Duke Richards

A Glimpse of Us (TRR/TRM) - Liam Rys & MC, Fabian Rys & MC

Barcelona | Prince Hamid (D&D) - Prince Hamid x MC

Worthy (TRR) Hana Lee x MC

The Cursed Heiress, Ch. 17 (D&D) - Mr. Sinclaire x F!OC

@peonierose ✒️

Losing Game - Part 1 (OH) - Bryce Lahela x F!OC

Nightbound AU vs. Hänsel & Gretel, Part 3 (NB) - OCs

Nightbound AU vs. Hänsel & Gretel, Part 2 (NB) - Nik Rider, F!MC, OCs

Once, Part 2 (TNA/OH) - Sam Dalton x F!MC

Hau’oli la Heleui (OH) - Bryce Lahela, F!OC, Keiki Lahela

@storyofmychoices ✒️

Go On, Feel It! (BOLAS) - Mal Volari x F!MC

Our Future Doctor (OH) - Bryce Lahela x F!OC

No Kissing! (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

Dance With Me (OH) - Bryce Lahela x F!MC

A Theif in the Gardens (BOLAS) - Mal Volari x F!MC

@tessa-liam ✒️

Memories (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

The Sacrifice (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

Regrets (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

Old Habits Die Hard (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

Turning the Page, Prologue (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

@trappedinfanfiction ✒️

Brunette (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Crossroads (OH) Ⓜ️ - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

A New Neighbor (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

Midnight Talks (OH) - F!MC, Sienna Trinh

What's in a Name? (COP) - Trystan Thorne

@zealouscanonindeer ✒️

Together (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Company (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Locked In (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

20 Questions (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Long Overdue (OH) Ⓜ️- Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

[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—

Permatags

@twinkleallnight @lovingchoices14 @kingliam2019 @petiteboheme @angelasscribbles @aussiegurl1234 @nestledonthaveone @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @tessa-liam @alyshak92 @secretaryunpaid @princessleac1 @walkerdrakewalker @tinkie1973 @twinkle-320 @knaussal @nikkis1983 @lunaseasblog @ficloverevie @indiana-jr @differenttyphoonwerewolf @kristinamae093 @eversoaringqueen12 @peonierose @3pawandme @alexabeta @veebug8 @fanfiction-she-wrote @queenmiarys @lancelotsimp @coco-lina-s @lolablackwrites @ivyflowers13 @persephone13 @hollygirl1269 @adri-ja-96 @harleybeaumont @katedrakeohd @uneravine @alj4890 @mywildheartremains

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

@thetruthisthatiloveyou @anakjaybon-blog

[burnin0akleaves]

This has been on the horizon for a while, but I think a part of me just didn't want to admit it until recently. I'll cut straight to the chase, you probably won't see much RA content from me anymore.

The topic of the fandom, the tags or quality of the posts have been discussed a few times already -mostly by me I think which should have been a warning sign haha- so I'm not going to go into too much detail. I'll just share my perspective.

The fandom simply just doesn't have much to offer me at the moment.

Everyone knows that a huge part of my interest in RA was and always has been TRR Will. If he didn't exist, I would have lost interest in the series a LONG time ago. But I can cook my own meals for only so long before I get tired and want to eat out for a change, and unfortunately for me no one is serving the food I want at the moment. I still love love love this man, but there just isn't enough content for him in the fandom (except the ones made by me) for me to want to actively keep engaging with it.

Not only that, art just doesn't get the same reception as it used to here. If I can draw another interest of mine and get triple the engagement, then it's just easier for me to be motivated to share my art of that other thing. Sure I draw because I want to first, but suprisingly for everyone I do want to draw things other than RA. And if those other things are more appreciated, then it just means I'm more motivated to keep posting them for everyone else to see. Most people probably remember I used to be very active in discussions and character analyses on here as well, but I just don't see the space for that sort of content here anymore. (Sorry to that one anon who said they liked my writing, you know who you are)

I still love RA and TRR Will, but I'll probably keep my thoughts or the occasional sketch I draw for myself from now on. I just don't feel motivated to share it.

Also just in case anyone asks my opinion after the recent discussion at the ask blog; yes, I don't like the current state of most of the posts here either. I don't want to go out bad-mouthing others though, the current style of content in the fandom just isn't my taste. Which is alright, maybe I've simply grown out of the series! The book getting newer fans is a good thing and I hope they have as much fun as I did when I first joined. This fandom has been my home for years now but I think it's around time I go out and explore more.

I'll still keep up with the series. Again, my fixation on Will is very much alive and well. It sucks that I don't have the energy to share my passion with others anymore, but I'm sure people will do just fine without me mauling every other guy that completely misunderstands his character to death. Don't get me started on the beard shit, genuinely frustrating how a fandom revolving around a book series has 0 literacy at times.

TLDR: I'm not going to be active in the RA fandom anymore because of multiple reasons. I still love TRR Will but I'm not motivated to share my work here in the current state of things. I loved my time here and I hope everyone else does too.

-

Also if my feelings change in the future, then that will be that and I might come back. I'm not sending myself off to exile here. I'm not writing any of this because I believe I have to explain myself either, I'm doing it because I simply want to avoid causing people confusion. Feel free to send me RA related asks still, just don't expect to see me around the RA spaces as much. I'll stay in all the servers obviously, and my presence will be around indirectly since most of my friends are still here. Also, if you draw TRR Will do feel free to send him to me in the dms. Love that guy and his apprentice so much, wish more people did.

[alj4890]

The Statement

(Jackson Nevrakis-Walker x Nicky Beaumont) in a Choices The Royal Romance (While We're Young AU) drabble

Thirty Kisses in Thirty Days Challenge prompt: kissing at a masquerade ball.

@krsnlove @hopelessromantic1352 @lodberg @twinkleallnight @tessa-liam @sirbeepsalot

A/N thanks again @hopelessromantic1352 for starting this challenge off with three amazing requests with couples I adore 🥰 *on a side note I would still love help from whoever wants to in choosing couples for the other 27 prompts 🤣

Masterlist

"Nicky!" Emily Beaumont breathed in disbelief.

She couldn't recall any moment in her twenty-one years where her older sister wore red to a court event. After all, St Orella's House colors were a deep royal blue and silver.

It simply wasn't done.

It was a Lythikos color.

Nicky twirled around. She brushed her rich, brown curls back over her shoulder and readjusted her black lace demi mask.

"What do you think?" Nicky asked a touch nervously.

"I think you're wearing the wrong colors!" Emily exclaimed.

She herself was wearing blue with silver sequins dotting here and there. Her own silver mask dangled from her fingers by blue ribbons.

Nicky grimaced. She knew her sister wouldn't understand the meaning nor the reason why she'd chosen to wear another duchy's colors.

But Nicky knew why she'd chosen to do something so...noticable.

She was determined to make a statement, one that would silence the whispers and rumors running amok in the royal court of Cordonia.

She also wanted to make it up to Jackson.

The heir to the duchy of Lythikos had already gone through a very painful year. Nicky publicly dumped him when she realized that the timing was off for them to move forward in their relationship (she wanted to get married while Jackson didn't see the reason to rush).

She'd then left the country with her mom and sister to grieve over the loss of her father, Maxwell. Jax was left behind to weather a broken heart while having to face the press on his own.

While away and trying to move on from Jackson, Nicky began dating one of Hollywood's newest sex symbols. Jax of course also tried to date others in the hopes of forgetting what he'd had in Nicky. Neither was good of letting go of the memories.

And just when she believed he'd never want anything to do with her again after months of silence, he appeared in California and took her to dinner. They were able to talk and be friends. They even planned to attend a wedding for a couple they didn't particularly care for together, as friends.

Then he had to go and be her hero when she was embarrassed over catching the wedding bouquet. He stood in front of everyone, kissed her hand, and said he'd hoped he knew who the lucky man she'd choose to marry, all while giving the illusion to the overly eager court members that he hoped it was himself.

Finally, he caught her alone. When he saw her crying he did what he'd always done before things ended badly between them. He took her in his arms and kissed her.

It'd felt like coming home, like coming to life once more. It was both strange and familiar all at once to be back in his arms.

Then that night Jackson confessed he was still in love with her, that he'd never stopped. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't feel that way towards anyone except her.

He wanted to try again.

Nicky didn't think her heart could take much more in that moment. She felt exactly the same way, she'd always felt like that.

But...

She still did not want to simply spin her wheels with him. She wanted marriage. She wanted a family of their own. She wanted their lives together to truly begin.

"I never said I didn't want that." He'd argued. "I've always known you were my future, Nicky."

Jackson was prepared to get down on one knee if that's what it took to keep her in his life. He was tired of his numb existence without her. Whatever lesson she'd tried to teach him all these months apart, he felt like he'd more than learned it.

Before he could do anything though, Nicky took a deep breath and said they should start over.

His eyes widened. He knew that before they broke up that she felt like they were wasting time. With the death of her father rattling her even more that life was too short and one shouldn't wait on anything, those were the last words he ever thought he'd hear her say.

She stepped out of his arms, determined to do this right. Nicky wasn't going to bully him into wanting to marry her. Perhaps she'd gone about their previous relationship all wrong. She wasn't certain how to change, but she would try and simply be his date, then girlfriend, then love, then...hopefully...

Jackson yanked her back in his arms. His lips captured hers in another deep kiss.

"We're back together?" He asked in a hoarse voice.

"Yes, but we're starting over." Nicky's breath hitched over the feeling of his lips kissing along her shoulder. "We'll have a first date and see how it goes."

"I claim this as our first date." He muttered against her skin.

She laughed in the midst of a moan. "I don't allow those types of kisses on a first date."

"Then this is whatever date you would allow these on." He drew her back into another heated kiss.

"Jax." She gripped him close. "I don't want us to end like we did before."

"We won't." He swore. "I'm never letting you go again, Nicky."

That's why she was now decked out in red and black. She was giving a public statement, one that the Cordonian nobles would not be able to misunderstand. She was showing them all that she was fully committed to Lord Jackson Nevrakis-Walker.

"The court is going to flip when they see you tonight." Emily reminded her. "And what's Mums going to think?!"

Nicky wasn't quite certain what their mother would think in seeing the heir to St Orella dressed like this.

"We have to let her see you before anyone else does!" Emily dashed out of the room before Nicky could stop her.

The future duchess silently prayed that her mother's new love, Thomas Hunt, would be enough of a distraction to keep her from being upset.

Amanda walked in with an anxious Emily hot on her heels. Thomas had been dragged along by Emily, who was also hoping that his presence would diffuse a potential fight.

Amanda's hazel eyes drifted along her daughter's pale features made even more beautiful with the rich red of her gown. Her lips curved in approval.

Nicky blinked in surprise. "Mom?"

"You look absolutely gorgeous!" Amanda took her hand and twirled her. "Jax won't know what hit him when he sees you."

Emily's jaw dropped. "You're not upset?"

"Upset? Why would I be?" Amanda asked, thoroughly puzzled over that notion.

Emily gestured towards her sister. "Because she's wearing Lythikos's colors!"

"So?" Amanda prodded.

"So?!" Emily looked about at each person in the room for help.

Thomas held his hands up. "Don't look at me. I have no idea what's going on."

Nicky's nervousness caused a laugh to slip out.

"I know why she's wearing this." Amanda explained. "I did the same thing with your father."

Both girls stared at her in shock.

"But you had the higher title!" Nicky exclaimed. "Dad should have worn your colors!"

"And he did." Amanda replied. "But when we first started officially being together, I wore Ramsford's colors to a ball." She shrugged with a smile. "Just to let everyone know whom I had chosen."

Nicky blinked back tears. She loved not only hearing her parents' love story but also seeing her own follow a similar path. Like her mother and father; she'd fallen for Jackson when they were children, had a major crush on him as a teenager, and fell madly in love with him as an adult.

To see that once again she was mimicking their sweet steps towards a happily ever after, she was more than thrilled with her choice in dress.

She hoped Jackson would understand the significance.

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

"Have you seen Nicky?" Jackson asked.

Emerick and Alec both shook their heads.

"Why didn't you escort her to the ball?" The crown prince asked.

"Because." Jackson huffed to Emerick as he accepted another drink. "She insisted on meeting me here."

"But you two are back together, right?" Alec prodded.

He couldn't take another moment of seeing two of his best friends being heartbroken.

"Yes. I made certain of it." Jax ran a hand through his hair, accidentally knocking his red and black demi mask askew. "She wanted to start over."

Emerick choked on his champagne. "Start over? All the way?"

"Yes." Jax groaned. "I told her we weren't doing that."

"I don't know." Alec chortled. "It would have been entertaining for the rest of us to see you act like you did as children."

Emerick chuckled over that image "There would be a lot of chasing her around the ballroom to pull her hair."

Jackson couldn't help but grin over those memories. He couldn't recall a time in his life when he didn't love Nicky.

"There's a blue dress." Alec pointed out.

Their eyes narrowed as they tried to figure out who it was.

"It's Emily." Emerick announced when he noticed his younger brother, Ellis, making a beeline towards her.

"Nicky can't be far behind." Alec pointed towards Amanda and Thomas taking to his mother, Hana. "Aunt Amanda is here too."

Jackson didn't know why he felt so antsy waiting on her. He was used to Nicky taking longer than usual to dress for a ball. Perhaps it was because after the wedding in Paris, they'd had to part ways while she finished her work in California and he had his duties here.

Now that the Beaumont ladies were back in Cordonia for good, he'd hoped to see more of her. But, she'd been busy unpacking and catching up on duties in St Orella with her mother and sister. They'd ended up spending these last few weeks simply talking on the phone. As much as he loved being able to do so again, he needed to be with her.

He checked the time then handed his glass to Alec.

"I'm going to go find her." He announced.

"Good luck!" His friends called out as he hurried through the crowd.

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

As Nicky descended the grand staircase of the royal palace, she paused at the sight of Jackson's mother staring at her from the foot of the stairs.

Her grace, Lady Olivia Nevrakis-Walker's sharp green eyes took in the young lady who son was in love with. She'd always approved of Nicky, even supported her side of things when the young couple's relationship ended.

But to see her wearing her duchy's colors...she couldn't be more proud of her son for choosing such a woman to love.

"Nicky, you've never looked lovelier." Olivia told her once she reached the bottom.

"Thank you, Aunt Liv." Nicky gave her a quick hug. "I wore this for Jax."

Olivia beamed at her. "You were meant to wear Lythikos colors."

She clasped her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'll see you later."

Olivia hurried off into the ballroom to find Drake. She was determined that they did not miss a moment of the other nobles seeing the heir to St Orella make a public declaration to Lythikos.

Plus, she couldn't wait to see their son's face when he saw Nicky.

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

Jackson did his best not to curse too loudly as he waded through the crowd of masked individuals. Laughter and the hum of conversation drowned out his grumblings. There were few people he would willingly seek out in this crowd and Lady Nicky Beaumont topped that exclusive list.

He stepped on one lady's gown, went to apologize, only to end up stumbling into another lady.

He grasped the soft curves encased in sparkling red to keep them both from tumbling to the ground. His dark brown eyes collided with a pair of hazel orbs that he knew so well.

His arms wrapped around her, drawing her close, as his lips brushed against hers.

The tender exchange made Nicky's toes curl.

Jackson deepened the kiss the moment he felt her hands slide up his chest.

"Should we be kissing like this on a second date?" Nicky teased.

Jackson snorted. "This isn't a second date."

"It kinda is." She smiled at him, taking in how handsome he was in all black, save for the red mixed in his demi mask.

Jackson actually stepped back to truly look at her. His eyes widened the moment he saw what she was wearing.

"Nichole Beaumont." He said softly, twirling her to where her red skirt flared about.

"Yes, m'lord?"

His smile slowly grew the longer he admired her.

"Care to explain your choice of colors?"

Nicky lowered her eyes and pulled her hand from his grasp.

"I thought it was rather obvious why I did this." She took a deep breath before lifting her eyes back to his. "I did it for you, Jax."

Jackson felt his heart ache from the sweetness of this public declaration of hers. She couldn't have told the world they lived in that he alone had her love any better than if she'd gotten on stage and announced it. If it was anything Cordonian nobles paid more attention to, it was fashion statements. He noticed that most of the crowd was whispering and pointing towards them.

This was gossip he could easily live with. He knew he'd caused some at Colette's wedding when he'd made such of show of being Nicky's escort. But Nicky...now she'd made certain to end all speculation about their relationship.

Knowing they had an audience and not caring at all for once, Jackson took her back in his arms for a passionate kiss.

He heard the gasps of the crowd followed by squeals and whoops from their siblings and friends.

When Nicky gently cupped his cheek, he ignored all the commotion going on around them. He finally had the one he loved back where she belonged, where he intended to keep her from now on.

Right in his arms.

[the-unconquered-queen]

Feel free to comment some suggestions for characters for future polls! (explained here)

[nineteen-rats]

Congrats on the TRR Will post with 100 notes, absolute fucking banger. Will you consider drawing him more in the future? I heard the girls and the gays love him

now who could possibly have sent this one 🤔

[kristinamae093]

Ghosted

Ghosted- A Plan (Chapter 2)

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), hints of Liam x Madeleine

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.

A/N2: Please excuse all errors, I'm posting as I leave for work. No Liam this chapter, but I promise next is ALL Liam.

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

Soft music filled the ballroom of the Beaumont estate. White tablecloths adorned every table, all complete with centerpieces of white and navy flowers. Servants bustled through the room clearing tables from the dinner that had just concluded, and rounded the room with Ramsford’s own sparkling wine. Nobles circulated and chatted while they waited for the proper party to begin. 

The air filled with tension only a select few could feel. 

Maxwell sat at the head table alone and watched the crowd. This was the point in the evening he would usually become a one man dancing machine, but Maxwell didn’t feel like dancing.

Since Riley disappeared, Maxwell was completely desolate. He felt like he had lost his sister, his best friend. He couldn’t fathom why she would do this. Her departure had come at such a random time, completely out of the blue; nothing about it made sense. She seemed happy. She talked like she was genuinely excited about the future. There was never any sign she regretted her decision to come to Cordonia or wished to return home. His mind’s questions had to be pushed aside, however, as they had to continue forward with the social season. 

As they left Applewood for their own estate, Bertrand’s sadness cleared, and an all-consuming cloud of anger, regret, and panic engulfed him; the realization that they were truly doomed dawned on him. With no suitor, they would face scrutiny and mockery; it was inevitable. The press would surely catch wind of their tanked finances, and now there was no end in sight.

Bertrand was incredibly upset with himself for allowing their reputation to be put in such a situation. But, he found the most fault to ultimately lie with Maxwell, for making such an irrational decision to begin with. He had only been a fool and went along with his ridiculous suggestion. 

When they arrived and found that their cleaning crew had canceled, they had to scramble to get their estate in order for their upcoming doomsday. Drake stayed behind in Applewood with Liam, and nobody else could know their situation; there was no one to call. So Bertrand and Maxwell had to roll up their sleeves and scrub the entire structure from top to bottom. They worked all day and all night; even then, Bertrand still nit-picked the job they had done. 

Bertrand had spent the entire time scolding Maxwell and continuously telling him he was at fault for their predicament. He lashed out and berated an already devastated Maxwell, but in his panicked stupor, Bertrand did not care one bit. Deep down he knew Maxwell did nothing wrong, but any rationality he had left him.

As Maxwell looked throughout the room, he spotted Liam in the corner with Drake, but twisted his gaze elsewhere. He figured if anyone had a right to be mad at him, it was Liam. He knew the turmoil he was experiencing, and couldn’t even imagine what Liam must have felt. Liam’s heartbroken face after he read her note permanently engraved itself in his mind, as well as the animalistic cry that escaped him soon after.

Maxwell had sat across from Liam at dinner, but avoided eye contact. The two didn’t speak; in fact, nobody really spoke. Regina asked about Riley’s whereabouts, but Bertrand quickly steered the conversation elsewhere. The King and Queen were the only two at the table who had even finished their meals; everyone else opted to pay more attention to the wine.  

Maxwell was pulled from his daze by Bertrand, as he tapped on his glass to get the room’s attention. “If everyone would please enter the reception hall, we will proceed with the festivities.” He stated, very matter-of-factly. 

Maxwell continued to sit in his seat and ignored Bertrand’s request. He knew it was time for their infamous toast, and his anxiety heightened the more he thought about it. Everyone expected to see three Beaumonts, and he didn’t know how Bertrand planned to spin things. 

Maxwell caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Bertrand as he stomped towards him. He let out a breath and prepared himself for the tongue lashing he was about to receive. 

“Maxwell! Get up! You have a toast to make!” Bertrand ordered.

Maxwell’s eyes widened. “What? Me? B-but… we’re supposed to do this together!” he stammered.

Bertrand scoffed, “Absolutely not! All night, I’ve had to avoid questions regarding Lady Riley’s whereabouts. Since this is your fault, you will set the record straight.”

“But-”

“But nothing! I will not take fault for the situation we’re in due to your poor choices! It’s time you owned up to your irresponsibilities! Our entire lives, I have continuously bent over backwards to fix the things that you’ve broken, but no more.” Bertrand shook his head. “I still can not believe this is happening! What would father say, Maxwell?!”

“Well, he pr-”

“He would disown you! Our reputation, our finances, it’s as good as gone! All of it! There is no solution! No one will want to do business with us! We’ll be lucky if we can stay afloat until Christmas!”

“I’m sorry, Bertrand! I didn’t mean to-”

Bertrand laughed sardonically. “Sorry won’t save you this time. You’re going to have to take responsibility for what you’ve done and deal with the repercussions. The Beaumont name will be tainted forever, but I will not allow you to bring me down with you. You, and you alone, will take responsibility for this monstrosity you've created.”

“Bertrand please! I didn’t do anything! I swear! I-I’m just as shocked as you are!” Maxwell pleaded. 

“This is not a discussion! I am telling you what is going to happen, whether you agree or not. You can continue to sit here and cry about it, or you can get up and be a man for once in your life, and take accountability for your careless decisions.” 

Maxwell continued to sit and stare wide eyed at Bertrand, as his last statement cut through his heart like a knife. He physically felt his entire soul hit the very pits of his stomach, and shatter even further. He wanted to believe Bertrand didn’t mean any of the crude things he had been saying, but the glare Bertrand gave said otherwise. Bertrand looked completely disgusted, enraged, and disappointed in Maxwell; all because he took a chance on a quirky American who had captured the heart of one of his dearest friends. 

“MAXWELL. NOW.” Bertrand boomed.

Maxwell stood from his seat and looked at Bertrand with a broken expression. “Bertrand, please… Can’t we-”

Bertrand took a step further to stand in Maxwell’s personal space and growled, “No. NO. Get this ‘we’ notion out of your head this instant! You, and you alone, will take responsibility for this; do you understand?” 

Maxwell held his intense gaze for a few brief moments before he finally relented and slightly nodded his head. He could give no other response, as his throat had constricted. He turned and made his way to the reception hall. Maxwell could feel his heart thump rapidly in his chest, as well as the wine from dinner doing somersaults in his abdomen. His hands trembled at his sides, and he felt incredibly dizzy as he slowly made his way to his destination. 

As Maxwell approached the stairs, he stopped and looked back at Bertrand, who had followed closely behind him. Maxwell gave him a look of disdain, but Bertrand gave him a stern nod of the head and ignored Maxwell’s silent plea. 

Maxwell reluctantly turned back around and trudged up the staircase. At halfway, he turned around to address the crowd. 

“H-Hello everyone… Um… So… First off, I’d like to thank you all for coming. We really appreciate you being here.” He stopped to look at Bertrand, who shook his head. “I mean, I really appreciate you being here…” he trailed off.  

Maxwell looked out into the crowd and squinted his eyes to blind his vision from the rays of chandelier lights on his face. As his eyesight re-centered, he saw every gaze in the room intently directed at him. He ran a visibly shaky hand through his hair, and attempted to continue, “Uh … Y-You’re probably wondering where Lady Riley is… And um, well… “ he tucked his chin down to his chest before he quietly and quickly spit out, “she left.”

Maxwell heard a throat clear and looked up to meet Bertrand’s steely gaze. Maxwell looked at him with sad eyes, silently begging Bertrand to end this nightmare. He held his gaze for what felt like a lifetime before Bertrand once again nodded his head in a silent order for him to continue. 

Maxwell tried to swallow the prominent lump in his throat, but it would not budge. He shuffled his feet for a moment before he cleared his throat, and abruptly and loudly blurted out, “Lady Riley is no longer in the social season.” 

Gasps and whispers filled the room. Everyone turned their heads to the person next to them to confirm they had heard him correctly. It was completely unprecedented for a house to lose their suitor, especially so close to the finish of the season. Rumors immediately started regarding why they had lost their suitor, and at such a crucial moment in time. 

Maxwell gulped, and at another stern nod from Bertrand continued. “I’d like to take this opportunity formally to accept responsibility for this……oversight. My brother trusted me to make a wise decision, and I-I failed… I failed him, I failed our country, and I failed myself…”

Drake arrived at the bar shortly later. He exited his truck and leaned up against it as he waited for Olivia’s SUV to arrive. He had tried to get Olivia to ride with him, but Olivia said she ‘would rather enter the pits of hell barefoot’ than get into his truck with him. 

As the SUV that carried Olivia pulled up, Drake crossed the parking lot to meet her as she exited the vehicle. He followed behind her as the two approached the doors. 

Upon entering the establishment, Olivia scrunched her nose. “What is that smell?”

“A bar?”

“It smells like… you… Ugh... It’s repulsive.” Olivia shuddered.

Drake stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face her. “Can you not be a bitch for ten seconds?”

Olivia stopped as well. “Sure, when you can refrain from being a neanderthal for three.” she retorted with a smirk as she kept her gaze straight in front of her. 

Drake sighed and ran a hand down his face. “This is gonna be a long night…”

A bark of laughter escaped Olivia. “HA! You’re telling me!”

Drake put his hands up in surrender. “Look, I don’t like you. You don’t like me. That’s fine. But we have a common goal here. For the sake of whatever is going on, we need a truce.” 

“Not a chance.”

“Olivia.” Drake growled. 

Olivia let out a huff before she relented. “Fine. Until we figure out this maze of an ordeal, I suppose we can have a truce.”

The two shared an intense glare before Drake extended his hand for a handshake. Olivia glanced at it momentarily before she caved and lightly returned the gesture.

As she released Drake’s hand, Olivia promptly reached into her bag and pulled out a small container of hand sanitizer. She squeezed a generous amount onto the hand Drake had just shook and rubbed her palms together. 

“Seriously?!“

“What? I don’t know where your hands have been.” Olivia retorted with another shudder. She put her head up and walked further into the crowded bar. 

Drake shook his head and muttered a few obscenities under his breath, but followed her path. He scanned the crowd and noticed Maxwell sitting at a secluded table in the corner. He wore a hat and sunglasses, but was anything but subtle. The hat he wore was bright blue, with what looked to be peacock feathers etched in the design.

Drake pointed out Maxwell to Olivia, who rolled her eyes at his ensemble; the two of them made their way over to Maxwell.

As Drake approached the table, he asked, “Maxwell, what the hell are you wearing?”

“A disguise! Duh!”

“Yeah, I get what you were going for. But for the record, dark colors help hide you better.”

“This is the only hat I have!” Maxwell said as he quickly pulled the cap from his head. He tucked it into the seat next to him and took his sunglasses off before he looked back up at Drake. “It’s been a long time, Buddy! I’m so glad to see you!”

“Don’t call me Buddy.”

“But it’s been so long! Cuuummmmmmoooooon Drake, you know you missed me!” Maxwell sang at him. 

“Don’t push it.” Drake grumbled. He took a seat at the table next to Maxwell, which then revealed Olivia as she stood behind him.  

Maxwell gasped and grabbed Drake by the arm. “Drake, are you alright?! Are you sick? Do you have a fever?!” He tried to put his hand on Drake’s forehead, but Drake quickly slapped his hand away.

“I wish…”

“Ha. Ha.” Olivia said as she rolled her eyes and took the seat across from Maxwell.

Drake turned to Maxwell. “So, how are you? And yes, it has been a long time, but you still can’t call me Buddy.”

Maxwell sighed as his peppy demeanor faded, and an air of melancholy overcame his entire being. “I mean, I’ve spent the last two months hiding from the world in spreadsheets and graphs, so…”

“Why do you think you need to hide, Max? What happened wasn’t your fault!”

“Isn’t it, though? I’m the one who invited her here…” Maxwell trailed off as he picked at his napkin on the table in front of him. 

“But you are not responsible for what happened!”

“Try telling that to Bertrand…”

“He still bad?”

Maxwell cringed before responding in a quiet voice. “Yeah… I don’t think we’ll ever be the way we were before. Even with the scandal, he still blames me... Except then it changed to ‘you brought an American harlot here to represent House Beaumont'." He looked down and shook his head. “He’s told me multiple times he doesn’t want me trying to help him salvage our house’s finances. It’s only so I stay in his sight, and don’t ruin our reputation further…” He cleared his throat and looked away.

House Beaumont had been in a tumultuous time, to say the least. Rumors spread immediately regarding their suitor’s sudden departure, each with their own theory as to why. Before they were given a chance to issue a formal statement, Ana De Luca ran her story about their broken financial situation and tied the two together. That rumor ran through the mill until the Coronation, when the new conclusion for Riley’s departure came to light. But the damage had already been done to House Beaumont.

Deals started falling through and donors retracted donations. Nobody wanted to be associated with the sullied brothers; the ones who had sponsored the disgraced suitor to begin with. Stories would still occasionally run, and they were always regarding their continuous downward spiral. They had enough secured transactions to stay afloat this long, but found themselves quickly drowning in a sea of ‘no’s and denial.

Bertrand continued to berate and blame Maxwell, but Maxwell never said a word, nor challenged him; because he truly believed what he was saying to be true. He placed all blame on himself, and could only take his scoldings for his error in judgement like the ‘man’ he thought he needed to be. Maxwell had given up hope a long time ago that Bertrand would forgive him, instead he just did whatever was requested of him without hesitation or question. He did the best he could, but Bertrand always found an issue with the work Maxwell would present. 

“Damn, I’m sorry, man….” Drake responded and gave him a pat on the back, unsure of what else to say.

Maxwell shook his head in acknowledgement before an awkward silence overtook the group. Olivia sat and eyed the patrons critically and questioned why she even agreed to come. Drake took a menu and browsed the drink selection to decide what to order. Maxwell sat and stole quick glances between Olivia and Drake as he tried to decipher why the two of them had arrived together. 

“So……” Maxwell started, attempting to break the silence.

“Something to say, Beaumont?” Olivia quipped.

“Well… I was just kind of wondering why you’re here. This definitely doesn’t seem like it’s your style.”

Olivia laughed. “It’s not. Unfortunately, we have business to conduct.”

Maxwell’s eyes grew wide. “Um… We? Like… with me?”

“Yes, you. But before we begin, I need you to understand that this is a delicate situation, and your utmost discretion is necessary. Can you agree to that?”

“Yes?” Maxwell responded with uncertainty. 

Olivia glared daggers at Maxwell. He sat up straighter and cleared his throat. “I mean, yes. Of course. How may I be of service, Duchess?”

Olivia rolled her eyes, but quietly told Maxwell about everything that she knew and her suspicions, but didn’t show him the pictures due to the capacity in the bar. Maxwell sat and listened intently to every word she said. He hung on every word she said, trying his hardest to process and keep up. 

When Olivia finished, Maxwell sat and stared into his drink for a long while. Long enough that Drake grew worried. 

“Uh, Max?” Drake asked as he tapped his arm to get his attention.

“I knew it,” Maxwell whispered as he wiped a tear from his eye, “I didn’t know what happened exactly, but I knew something wasn’t right…” he trailed off and shook his head. 

“I know, man. I kinda think we all did. But nobody had anything to back it up…” Drake ran a hand through his hair and fixed his gaze on the table in front of him.

Both men let a wave of guilt wash over them for not acting sooner. Drake and Maxwell each had their doubts with the country, and Liam’s conclusion that Riley had run off to be with Tariq. But Drake knew that with Liam as enraged as he was, bringing up the idea could have gotten him exiled, especially with no proof. 

Maxwell was put to work under Bertrand’s watchful eye, cut off from the outside world. He spent every moment he was awake with Bertrand. The only reason he managed to escape for a night was because Bertrand had a meeting and left the estate. He wouldn’t dare utter a word about his suspicions to Bertrand, as he probably wouldn’t have listened to him, even if Maxwell had said something.

Olivia sat and watched both men get lost in their thoughts. She let them wallow for only a minute or two, before she slammed her palm down on the table; causing Drake to nearly flip over in his chair, and Maxwell to almost knock his drink off the table. 

“What the hell, Olivia?!” Drake shouted.

“You two have to stop sulking! What’s happened, happened. There is nothing we can do to change that. We can, however, try to get some answers for everyone involved.” 

Olivia placed her hands on the table in front of her before she continued. “Now, Beaumont. You were the last person to physically see Riley in Cordonia, that we know of. Does anything stand out from your last conversation with her?”

Maxwell shook his head. “No. Not at all. She said she was tired and was going to head to bed. She even said she would see me in the morning!”

“Do you recall what time that was?” 

“Not really. I know it was shortly after the toasts concluded, though.”

Drake’s eyes widened. “Seriously?! That was super early! I stayed down there for at least another hour, possibly two!“ 

“Was it? I didn’t think much of it. We had been traveling for days on end and any second of down time she had was spent being lectured by Bertrand.” Maxwell responded with a shrug. 

“That would make her one of the first to retire. If she had already packed, she could have easily made an escape in that time frame. Especially with everyone else still at the party downstairs.” Olivia interjected. 

Maxwell shook his head. “Her stuff wasn’t packed, not before the party anyway. I know that for a fact. I was with her before the Jamboree started while she got dressed and what not.”

Drake’s mind started running overtime. He knew he did not hear Riley at all that night. Drake had found her gone at the same time as Liam and Maxwell. He started pondering about her retiring early. If she moved fast enough, she could have packed and left before he had made it back to his room for the night. 

But would she do that?  

Olivia sighed, “Well, I’m not sure if that will be relevant, but it is worth noting.”

“We gotta take all this to Liam!” Maxwell exclaimed. 

“That’s where I started. He doesn’t think the pictures are enough proof, and her retiring early doesn’t prove much at this point either.”

“How?! I haven’t even seen the pictures, but I believe you!”

Drake answered. “I saw it in his eyes when Olivia showed ‘em to us. I know he’s thinking about it. But he’s hurt and has been since she left. He’s channeling all that humiliation and sadness into anger. And a part of me thinks he doesn’t want to admit he was wrong and didn’t jump on investigating sooner.” 

“I’d agree that would be a safe assumption. We have to find more evidence to prove to him that something did happen that night.” Olivia responded with a determined expression.

“But what do we do? Where do we even start? It’s been two months, Olivia! I want to believe that there’s something out there, but what if we’re just chasing a dead end?” Maxwell asked as he dejectedly looked into his drink.

“To start, we need to locate Tariq. I did some searching, and it seems there’s no trace of him. The last time he was seen was at the Country Jamboree.” 

“How do we do that?” Drake asked. 

“I’ll look into it. Thus far, I haven't had any luck. But, I have a contact in intelligence. Maybe I can work out a deal for Tariq’s location.” 

“What about Riley?” Maxwell asked quietly, with his gaze still fixated on his drink. 

“We will get to that. But if what Liam said was correct, Bastien already couldn’t locate her. So we may have easier luck getting to Tariq and making him talk first.”          

“What can we do in the meantime? While you try to find him?” Drake asked.

“Since the engagement tour is starting in a couple of days, we can use that as a cover for our investigation. I take it we will all be in attendance?”

“Yep.”

“I mean yeah, but… I don’t know how much help I can be... Bertrand has already made it very clear that the only reason I’m being allowed to go with him is because the invitation was formally addressed to Bertrand and Maxwell Beaumont.”

“That’s fine. We need to bide our time for the first couple of events until the court reaches Applewood. I’m not sure what we can find, given how much time has passed, but we at least need to rule it out. We must investigate any and every lead, no matter how small, and that was the last place either of them was seen in Cordonia.” 

“I agree. I’ll see if I can get Liam to tell me where they put her phone.” Drake suggested. 

Olivia raised her brows in surprise. “Wow. Good thinking, Walker. Maybe this won’t be as horrendous as I feared.” 

“You’re not the only smart one here, thank you very much.” Drake scoffed.

“Looks can be deceiving, I suppose,” Olivia smirked. 

“I always wondered about that. Why did she leave her phone? What was the purpose of that? Wouldn’t she need it?” Maxwell asked. 

“You’re right. That’s just the start of things that don’t add up, of the things Liam’s turning a blind eye to.” 

Drake nodded. “We gotta get past this wall he’s built up. I know he doesn’t believe that shit for a second.” 

Olivia laughed. “Trust me, Walker. It won’t take much. He can try all he wants, but I am better than him at his own game. I can read right through him. In his heart, he knows the truth. He’s only denying because he feels like he has to.” 

“But why? Why does he have to? He loves her! He shouldn’t be fighting us on this!” Maxwell exclaimed. 

“I know. He shouldn’t be, but he’s been through a lot. He thinks he’s protecting himself. But we will make him see the truth.” Olivia replied with utmost confidence. 

Drake gave her a determined look. “Yeah, we will. You know what? I’m gonna go see him, invite him to Applewood with us. I’ll give it my best shot and hopefully make him see reason.” He turned to Maxwell. “You can come too. Maybe if we leave the intimidating red dragon at home, he’ll actually listen.”

“Awwwww, you think I’m intimidating, Walker? How sweet of you.”

Drake ignored Olivia as he awaited Maxwell’s answer. “I… Uh… I guess I could go…” Maxwell responded in an unsure tone. 

Drake patted Maxwell on the back. “Relax. It’ll be fine. Ain’t nothin’ to worry ‘bout.”

“... Okay, but... promise me if we decide to form an official alliance, we will be the Cordonian Power Rangers, and I get to be the blue one.” Maxwell stated with a completely firm expression. He held it for only a few moments before a small smile crept across his face.

Drake and Olivia both rolled their eyes, but Drake subtly grinned. It was nice to see bits of the old Maxwell poke through, despite everything he had been through.

Drake retrieved his forgotten menu, and finally selected a seasonal skull cracker ale; the regular skull cracker, but with a slight spice flavor added. He put his menu back in the holder before he turned his attention to Olivia. “You gonna order something?”

Olivia rose from the table and scoffed, “God no. My business here is done. I suppose I’ll see you two on the engagement tour.”

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[fadingreveries]

The Royal Romance, Bk1 Ch2: Welcome to Cordonia (Pt. 1)

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: 1.2k

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

~ ~ ~

After packing her bags and leaving her New York apartment behind, Riley found herself on a plane with Maxwell and Drake. She gazed in awe at the cream-coloured leather seats, dark oak tables, and a complete minibar with beverages she could only have dreamed of consuming in her lifetime. It was clear that she had underestimated just how lavish their lives were back home. 

“Say ‘goodbye’ to New York and ‘hello’ to Cordonia!” Maxwell exclaimed, his arms stretched out wide in front of him and still as eager as ever. 

It turned out that not only was he Liam’s fairy godmother on his bachelor party night, but he had now undertaken the new position of Riley’s fairy godmother on her way to Cordonia. He felt very satisfied with the good he was spreading in their lives. Better this than to cause more mischief and mayhem, as Bertrand would put it.

Riley leaned back in her chair, hugging herself tighter with her leather jacket around her. She was dressed in a magenta blouse and black jeans, yet she was slightly shivering. She wasn’t even all that sure if it was because of the air conditioning cranked up high or because of her nervous but excited energy. 

She was surprised by her spontaneity at that moment and still couldn't process where she was. “I can’t believe this is actually happening…”

Riley knew it was a risky decision to choose. She didn’t know what the future held in Cordonia or what her relationship with Liam would unfold into. But she knew better that to never have tried for something she truly wanted was to regret it for the rest of her life.

“Believe it. We’ll be landing soon, ready or not. And if you’re not ready, those ladies at court are going to eat you alive,” Drake responded, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Metaphorically speaking, anyway. But Drake had seen things pretty close to it. In front of other members of the court, noble ladies dished out compliments and gave out diplomatic answers to every question like it was second nature. Being close to Liam showed him the other side of them which involved a lot more name-calling, sabotaging, two-faced conversations, and downright dragging others’ self-esteem across the cold ground.

It was something that rubbed him the wrong way whenever he got an occasional glimpse of it. It was just a constant reminder to him that no one at court could ever really be trusted. If Riley was gonna stick around, she might as well know the ropes as early as she could. 

Maxwell knew he was being a Debbie downer again. Or as little Maxwell liked to put his own little twist on it when he was six-years-old, a “Drakey downer.” Maxwell shushed him, putting his finger up to his lip. “Yeesh, don’t scare her, Drake. You okay, Riley?”

“Honestly… I’m terrified,” Riley admitted, suddenly feeling a twinge of nervousness. “I met you all just last night and suddenly… I’m uprooting my whole life for a competition in a country halfway across the world. I feel like I’m a little over my head for doing this.”

Drake scowled, scoffing as if he almost saw her answer coming. It was exactly the point he kept bringing up to Maxwell when he said Riley would be joining them. “I knew it. She’s not gonna last a week. It’s a waste of time bringing her if she’s not even sure of herself being here.”

“I don’t get why you’re being so grim about this,” Riley muttered, frowning as she looked Drake in the eye. “Is it really as bad as you say it is?”

Seeing the genuinely hurt look on her face, Drake took a second to breathe and rethink his sudden hostility towards her. It wasn’t anything personal. He just knew this kind of risky decision-making only ended in disaster for people. 

Mostly, he didn’t want it to negatively affect Liam. He knew Liam hesitated to talk about his feelings in front of others, but Drake could always see the truth in his eyes. No way in hell was he going to let anything hurt him. 

Shaking his head, Drake sighed. “Look, no offense, but I’ve seen girls like you come and go. It never ends well. Not for you, not for Liam, not for the royal family.”

Maxwell had only met Riley the night before but besides Liam, he was quite possibly her only advocate for her time in Cordonia. He didn’t even want to think about how Bertrand was going to react knowing he had technically plucked a random girl from New York to compete in being the next queen of their kingdom. 

In a protective manner, Maxwell frowned and retorted, “Riley’s not some crown-chaser. She and Liam have something real. I saw it last night with my own two eyes. And if they don’t believe it, you can personally bring me to the eye doctor to get my 20/20 vision rechecked. Everyone knows that’s just one of my amazing assets.”

“Drake… I’m different from those girls. Liam being a prince doesn’t matter at all to me,” Riley softly said.

The boy she learned to love that one special night was just Liam to her. She knew the title and his responsibility to Cordonia was a large part of his life, but she knew that she would have fallen in love with Liam regardless of what his title was. 

Pointing an ironic finger at her, Drake leaned back in his seat and remarked, “That’s exactly the kind of naive thinking that’s going to land you in trouble here.”

Just then, the pilot announced the plane’s descent. Sliding open the window for a brighter view of outside, Maxwell peered out. He knew it was something that Riley would find fascinating and hopefully, it would calm her slight nerves for her big journey ahead. A little boost for her spirits. 

“Hey, look! You can see Cordonia out the window! Riley, you won’t want to miss this!” Maxwell said, gesturing her over to join him by the window. 

Making her way towards Maxwell’s spot, Riley craned her head to get a better look of the scenery. She gasped in wonder, taking note of the various shades of blue and turquoise in the ocean surrounding the country. The beige and tan stone buildings with roofs of orange and sandy colours immediately caught her eye. There was an expansive wealth of healthy forests with their dark green foliage. She could even see the large white and gold glamour of the royal palace’s architecture from where the airplane hovered over. 

“That’s Cordonia? It’s like something out of a fairy tale!” Riley exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with even more enthusiasm by every new sight she saw. “The sparkling ocean, the swaying trees—”

“If you burst into song, I’m jumping out of the plane,” Drake interrupted her, although he was a little relieved to see that any trace of her nervousness faded away. 

“I’m just saying it’s beautiful,” Riley commented, her mouth still slightly agape and her eyes fixated on the sights below. 

“It is, isn’t it?” Maxwell agreed, before turning to observe her. It was exactly what she needed to get excited over her new start. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Riley answered with a grin, feeling like she could handle anything thrown in her way.

~ ~ ~

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

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