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karahalloway · 8 months ago

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(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 18 - Diplomatica

Fandom: TRR

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

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

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

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

Word Count: 5,300

Rating/Warnings: None (for once 🤣)

Chapter theme song:

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

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

Chapter 18 - Diplomatica

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

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

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

No wonder it feels like the inside of a furnace!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I heave a breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing lasts like this anymore...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Il Circo Massimo," he advises.

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

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

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

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

Rome really is the Eternal City...

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

"Il Vittoriano," Vito offers without prompting.

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

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

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

"Oh," I mutter sheepishly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why?"

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

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

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

"I... No," I admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It really is a—"

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

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

Madeleine bristles. "That is not what I—"

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

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

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

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

The President raises his head dutifully. "Certamente."

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

The Beaumonts bow their heads dutifully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hana blushes. "I—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course," she nods. "My parents—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Actually, he—"

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

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

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

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

The story continues in Chapter 19: Field Day

A/N: Translations for the Italian below:

At the airport: Andiamo - Let's go

Certamente, Duchessa - Certainly, Duchess

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

Il Circo Massimo - The Circus Maximus

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

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

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

Certamente - Certainly

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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#harper gale #drake walker #drake walker x mc #the royal romance #less than noble intentions #maxwell beaumont #olivia nevrakis #bertrand beaumont #hana lee #king liam #madeleine amaranth #Spotify

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kristinamae093 · 2 years ago

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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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#the royal romance #king liam #liam x riley #drake walker #liam rys #trr #choices trr #trr au #trr au fanfic #choices the royal romance #prince liam #liam x mc #choices fic writers creations #olivia nevrakis #maxwell beaumont

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masked-alien-lesbian · 3 months ago

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TRR book 2 end of Chapter 19: Assassins attack the Homecoming Ball

[For those new to my blog, I headcanon twin mcs, Riley and Raelyn in this AU. Riley is the more typical mc that closely matches canon mc that travels to Cordonia to compete for the hand of the Prince while her twin Raelyn tags along and ends up falling for Hana Lee]

Tw: bullying, transphobia, and gun violence.

Raelyn couldn't help smiling so hard their cheeks felt like it would split. The way Liam was looking at their sister Riley with so much starstruck awe and love, they knew Riley had truly found someone worthy of her. Saw her as the queen Raelyn always knew her to be.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Ha! Made it before you!" Six year old Riley cheered as she climbed on top of the highest branch that was strong enough to take the twins weight. "I'm queen of the world!!"

"You usually do." Raelyn says struggling behind Riley. Riley reached out to help them up beside her.

"Don't worry Rae, you can be a queen too! We can be queens together!" Riley says smiling a toothy grin looking out across their grandparents backyard, missing the uncomfortable look on Raelyn's face as they frowned.

"I think I'd rather be a wizard or a-a sorerer" they say mispronouncing sorcerer. Riley turns back with wide eyes.

"Ooo that would be cool! Yeah I'll be a queen and you can be my wizard, casting spells and tricks!"

"Yeah?" Raelyn asks hopefully.

"Yess! As long as we're together Rae-Rae. You can be whatever you want to be!" Riley says hugging Raelyn tightly.

"Together forever." Raelyn says in Riley's unruly mane of hair.

"Forever!"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Introducing Duchess Riley, future queen of Cordonia." Liam says holding out a hand to Riley who took a step in his direction until suddenly the lights went out. Raelyn could feel Hana's hand that they were already holding tighten and her other hand grasp their bicep. Popping flew through the air.

"What is that? More fireworks?" Penelope's voice filtered through the crowd's uneasy murmur.

"No! Gunshots! Run!" Justin hollers and several women screamed. Someone bumped Raelyn and for a second they slipped out of Hana's grasp before she reeled them back into her arms.

"Raelyn!" Hana says into their neck. Then the lights came back on to reveal utter chaos. Liam and his guards were fighting off masked men, nobles ran as gunshots rang through the air but when one of the masked men pointed a gun at Riley, Raelyn felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured down their spine.

"RIIIILLLEEEYYY!!" A primal scream tore through Raelyn's throat and they started to bolt towards their twin.

"Raelyn! No!" Hana says leaping in front of them, desperate to keep her fiancé from attracting the attention of the gunmen.

[Beautiful commission done by the very talented @sazanes 😁😁😁]

Raelyn's view of their twin was hidden from them by a crowd of panicking nobles and when a gunshot rang out, they had no idea that Drake had taken the shot for Riley. As the gunshot rang through the air, Raelyn just stopped. Stopped struggling, stopped moving, stopped breathing, stopped thinking, stopped...existing. Tears ran down their face and they retreated deep in their mind.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Freak! Loser!" A handful of 13 year old bullies chanted circling Raelyn on their bikes. Tears welled in their eyes.

"Aww, look she's about to cry! Are you going to cry little girl?"

"S-stop c-calling me that! I'm-I'm not a g-girl!" Raelyn says stuttering. They fell, scraping their knees and the palm of their hands when a bully kicked the back of their knees out from under them.

"Actually you're half right...you're a f-f-freak girl!" The ringleader of the bullies mocked their speech impediment before grabbing the front of their shirt. "Since you're not a girl, then I guess I can punch you all I want right?" He says before raising his fist, Raelyn flinched back. Suddenly a scream of anger rang out and several of the bullies scrambled away.

"You get your grubby hands off my sibling before I kick your ass into the next week!" Riley storms towards them, righteous fury on her face, Raelyn had never seen their sister this angry before. The bully, Michael? Mikey? Mike? let go of Raelyn to smirk at Riley.

"Well well well. Miss. Softball Star here to fight her sister's battles for her again-" Riley cuts him off by punching him in the face than in the stomach. As he laid on the pavement groaning, Riley raised her voice to the other bullies and the ones standing by gawking at the scene.

"If anyone touches my twin again, I'm beating your ass into the ground, do you understand me?!?" Riley says glaring angrily before offering Raelyn her hand and helping them back up on their feet.

"Are you hurt? Are you okay?" Riley says worriedly, Raelyn shakes their head in the negative.

"N-no I'm f-fine." They say sniffling. Riley frowns at her twin's stutter. It only came out when they were upset or scared.

"Well let's get the hell out of here." Riley says adjusting her backpack.

"R-Riley! Language!" Raelyn says shocked, Riley laughs and wraps an arm around their shoulders, leading them off the schoolyard.

"I've got your back Rae. No one is ever going to hurt you while I'm around." Riley says squeezing Raelyn tighter against her in a hug.

"I've got your back too Riley." Their reply muffled in Riley's shoulder.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Raelyn baby, please!" Hana sobs as she tries to get a response from her catatonic fiancé. She cups Raelyn's face in her hands. "Please come back to me. I need you with me." Hana begs.

Tonight had been going so well. Riley had cleared her name and Liam had proposed to her in New York and was well on her way to becoming Cordonia's future queen. Liam had made Hana and the twins duchesses and she proposed to Raelyn just mere hours ago. Now, now Liam was fighting for his life, Hana's future sister-in-law's wellbeing in question and her fiancé unresponsive to Hana's pleading.

"It's going to be okay, baby, it's going to be okay." Hana repeats like a mantra, trying to get not only Raelyn to believe it but herself as well. Her forehead pressed against Raelyn's, she stared in their eyes willing them to come back to her. The couple still as statues while chaos rained all around them. Then somehow life flickered back in Raelyn's eyes.

"H-Hana?" Raelyn whispers. With a sob, Hana nods.

"Yes! Please Rae! We have to get out of here!" Hana begs pushing Raelyn back, trying to steer them to an exit.

"Hana! Raelyn! We gotta go!" Maxwell suddenly appears besides them with Chance in his arms. He shoves the corgi in Raelyn's arms and a whimpering Chance licks Raelyn's cheek. With Maxwell's help, Hana is able to guide Raelyn out of the palace and into one of the guards' armored cars.

As the car zooms off, Hana looks back at the palace biting her lip. Please be okay Riley. I don't think Raelyn could handle it otherwise. Hana thinks before pulling her lover into her arms.

Omg! It's been awhile since I made myself cry writing something! Big big thanks to @sazanes for doing this more angsty commission for me. Despite all the angst, we know the twins and the friend group will be fine but I thought it would be neat to see Raelyn's reaction to seeing their twin in danger, and we got to see a little babies and preteen Riley and Raelyn! Thank you so much @sazanes! You're amazing! 👏🏽 👏🏽 👏🏽

#I swear the twins write themselves into existence #I had no idea that Raelyn stuttered until #Halfway through the fic #Hope no one gets too triggered #Tw for bullying #Tw for transphobia #And tw for gun violence #trr #hana lee #choices #pixelberry #the royal romance #playchoices #Hana x Raelyn #Hana x OC

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angelasscribbles · 1 year ago

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Reunited (A Bad Romance AU)

Series: What If

Original Series: Bad Romance

More: Bad Romance Continues

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for chapter: Riley x Max (past), Riley x Drake, Riley x Liam

Word Count: 1,333

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Mature themes

A/N: This is for the @choicesprompts Rewrite Challenge. This clip came up on Facebook and it reminded me of Who Said Anything About Divorce? One of my Bad Romance AU's. So here's another. What if Liam had gotten his shit together much sooner? Also, in the original it's Max she enters with and here I've made it Drake.

Mashup: TRR x Friends

My other stuff: Master List.

Fydelia, the night the Engagement Tour kicked off….

Riley Brooks entered the estate at Fydelia on the arm of Drake Walker, the man who had just spent the last three weeks with her at Ramsford. He had wiped her tears, soothed her anger, and warmed her bed.

Much to Maxwell’s chagrin. It was bad enough she had dumped him for Liam. Once that went south, he’d had to watch her fall into Drake’s arms.

He parted ways the moment they were announced, slinking off to the bar to busy himself with tonight’s objective: Getting shit-faced drunk.

Riley ignored the whispers and gasps as they moved through the ballroom. She wasn’t sure which was causing more of a stir. That she had the gall to show herself after those pictures of her and Max had been leaked to the Cordonian Star or that she was there with the king’s best friend, the other commoner outcast.

She swiped a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and held it up in a toast to the gawkers with a brilliant smile, “Lovely to see you all again!”

Soon enough, Riley and Drake came face to face with Liam and Madeleine. Riley was taken aback by the pain and longing she saw clearly etched on Liam’s face. His voice was full of desperation as he uttered her name, “Riley…”

She blinked back her tears and straightened her spine, “Liam.”

One look at Drake’s arm wrapped possessively around her waist and Liam’s eyes filled with fury. “What the hell is this?”

“Come on, darling,” Madeleine started to walk away, pulling Liam with her but he yanked out of her grasp and spun back to the other couple, “Riley, please! We need to talk!”

“I can’t imagine what about,” she ran a finger down Drake’s chest while her eyes stayed locked on her former lover.

Liam’s voice held a warning note, “Riley…”

“Yes, Liam?”

“I…” his mouth opened and closed as he fought an internal battle.

Madeleine moved back to his side, sinking her nails into his arm as she hissed quietly in his ear, “People are starting to stare, come on!”

“Yes, Liam,” Riley made a shooing motion, “Go on, you have your perfect little noblewoman and you’ve knuckled under to the pressures of the court beautifully. Go make Daddy proud and leave me alone. I don’t need you anymore, I have Drake now.”

Liam’s eyes darted from Riley to Madeleine to the crowd around them that was growing every moment as people came to watch the drama unfold.

At that moment, he saw two futures stretching out before him. He realized with sudden clarity that one of those futures was rapidly expiring.

He drew in a deep breath. Desperate times called for desperate measures, “It’s true, I behaved horribly but it’s only because I love you. There are things you don’t know, reasons I had to pretend to reject you-“

“Oh, that wasn’t pretend Your Majesty! That was very real! I was there, remember?”

Shoving Madeleine carelessly aside, his voice rose, and he didn’t care who heard, “I was wrong, Riley! Okay? Is that what you want to hear? I was wrong and I would do anything to have you back in my life!”

“Too little, too late, Li!” Drake interjected, tugging her closer to him, “She’s moved on.”

Liam’s eyes never left Riley as he asked, “Has she?”

Riley shook her head, “I can’t believe this!”

“I never should have broken up with you!”

“Broken up with me? You didn’t break up with me, Liam, you got engaged to another woman five minutes after fucking me in the hedge maze and you did it without giving me so much as a heads up!”

Liam ignored the gasps from the onlookers and Madeleine’s yelp of surprised fury as he defended himself, “I know! But I can explain all that! Riley, I think about you all the time! You’re all I can think about, I’m fucking lost without you! Do you…do you ever think about me?”

“No!” Drake scoffed.

“Yes,” Riley said softly.

“What?” Drake’s head snapped from Liam to Riley in shock and disbelief.

“I don’t know what to say, Liam,” Riley glanced around the room. Dancing had stopped, the room had gone silent, and every eye was locked on the two of them. Here was the man she loved not giving two fucks what the court thought…finally.

“Say something,” he implored her, “anything!”

“This is all so….romantic…”

Drake’s mouth fell open, “Or….” Because come on. The man had dumped her, very publicly, while he had picked up the pieces. “Too little too late, maybe?”

Liam ignored Drake as he plunged on, “I understand I may be way out of bounds here but is there any chance you would take me back?”

Riley considered his offer. Part of her wanted to say no, to punish him for what he had put her through and part of her just wanted him back, wanted the aching hole his absence had left filled again. And yes, there was a small part of her that wanted to rip him away from Madeleine in vindication. What better way to send a big fuck you to the nobility than to take, and marry, their newly minted king right out from under all of them? Especially the simpering evil countess of cruelty that was currently turning six shades of purple as Penelope and Kiara held her at bay.

The pleading in his eyes is what finally pulled a simple, “Maybe,” from her lips.

“Riley, sweetie,” Drake pulled on her arm in an attempt to turn her attention back to him, “This conversation is starting to make me a little uncomfortable.”

Riley turned to him as if just remembering he was there. She placed one hand on her chest and the other on his face, “Oh, God. I am so sorry but…” her eyes flicked to Liam and then back to Drake as she gestured toward the king, “I mean, there’s so much history between us, you know?”

“I’ve known you exactly as long as he has!” Drake protested.

“I’m sorry too,” Liam clapped him on the shoulder, “but Riley and I belong together, and I was a fool to think I could pull off this charade.”

A charade Drake had been fully aware of but apparently chosen not to tell Riley about. He’d deal with his errant best friend later. Right now, he knew he needed a grand romantic gesture to win her back.

Liam turned and held out his hand to his fiancé, “Madeleine?”

She reached back, “Liam-“

“I’m sorry,” he told her as he pulled the engagement ring from her finger, “But I made a huge mistake proposing to you.”

Madeleine gasped and fell back in shock. Bertrand, who had appeared from nowhere, caught her in his arms, “Maddie!”

“What the fuck?” Savannah watched him in confusion.

From across the room, Godfrey was spluttering and insisting Liam couldn’t do this, but two guardsmen held him at bay easily.

Liam dropped to his knees in front of the woman he actually loved, “I love you and I’m so sorry I let the protocols of court get in the way of that. Marry me, Riley, please. I can’t live without you, and I don’t care who knows it!”

“Oh, Liam, I love you too!” She let him place the ring on her finger. When he retook his feet, she flung herself into his arms.

There was a smattering of applause and a mixture of noises ranging from outrage to approval from the crowd.

“Ok, guess we’re seeing other people,” Drake grumbled as he made his way to the bar, “Whiskey, neat, and keep them coming!”

Max turned to him with a gloat, “Welcome to the club. I told you it wouldn’t last.”

“Shut up, Beaumont,” Drake threw back the first shot, “I don’t care what just happened out there, this isn’t over!”

“No,” Max agreed as he gave Drake an appraising look, “It isn’t.”

#choicesprompts #rewrite challenge #trr au #trr poly #trr #bad romance au #what if #bad romance #angelasscribbles #the royal romance #drake walker #liam rys #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #the royal romance fanfic #choices #choices stories you play

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callmetippytumbles · 10 months ago

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WIPs: Choices Edition

So the last time I did this I didn't actually read the rules and then I got really confused when I didn't get a bunch of asks. That's on me. Should have read and followed the rules. @lizzybeth1986 sent me an ask about my Choices WIPs and I was torn between actually following the rules this time or talking about fic in detail which is kinda what the ask was about. In an effort to a) actually respond this century and b) keep it (relatively) short, I split the difference. I talked more about the WIPs I found interesting. I listed the ones I didn't. Actually I listed the ones I found deeper in my Drive because I do not keep my WIPs in a separate folder from my other documents and it's just chaos in there but we don't need to talk about that.

Rules that you totally should follow if you want to play: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Tagging: I have been out of the Choices fandom for a while so I am tagging anyone who wants to play.

Random Fics - The Royal Romance

Bustin’ Out - Paring: Drake/MC (platonic), Liam/MC (romantic)

This was a fic where Halle was pregnant (like 7 months along) but was put on short-term bed rest due to an early labor scare. She has been medically cleared to get out of bed rest, but Liam would prefer that she stays on bed rest. Halle goes stir-crazy so she escapes and drags Drake along with her. I wish I actually finished this one if only for the funny. This is the funniest I have ever written Liam. The blocker here was the ending or the lack thereof. I think if I could wrap up the ending and decide on the Drake/Kiara subplot I could still publish this…regardless of what actually happened in the rest of the Royal Romance series.

Do that Baby’s Hair - Pairing: Liam/MC

This was a fic to actually piggyback a fic I actually did release called Wash Day. In this fic, it sees Liam and Halle in the future with their children and essentially Liam isn't exactly fully keeping up with promises he made in the first fic and Halle seeks to change that. I think I got the first half done but was not done writing the second half.

Not My Children - Pairing: Liam/MC

This is a future fic where Liam and Halle are confronted with the significant level of scrutiny their children will face in the media. Kind of inspired by the discourse that happened with Blue Ivy when people saw her hair looking less than pristine and how harsh and swift the judgement came. Got through the first half then stopped.

Phone Grab - Pairing: Liam/MC

This is a random fic where I guess I was working under the idea of what would happen if Maxwell took Liam's phone and started answering his texts (security breaches aside obviously). Of course Drake gets involved and eventually Hana and even Kiara does as well. Hilarity ensues. I am actually open to brainstorming this one for ideas to see where this one goes.

Hana Persy Drabble - Hana/OC

What it says on the tin. This was supposed to be a drabble featuring Hana and one of my favorite OCs, @lizzybeth1986's Persy. It was meant to be a gift for her at some point but I got blocked on how I wanted to end.

Fic Series

In the Dark: A Bloodbound x TRR Crossover AU

These fics are related to a series I did with Misha where she writes chapters for her TRR MC and I write the chapters for my BloodBound MC. The series starts kind of at the beginning of TRR but about halfway through BloodBound Book 1 (specifically when the BloodBound Gang rescue Adrian from The Baron's prison). Of course things get more complicated when the Cordonian vampires get involved with all of the mess and in-fighting happening between the NYC vampires. It pulls a lot contextually from The Crown and The Flame as well.

Choosing Darkness - Pairing: Olivia/Liam (unrequited)

This fic was a companion fic to a crossover AU fic I did with Misha. It’s the backstory of how Olivia got Turned into a vampire after Liam’s forced Turning. It also was interspersed with background on how Cordonia during the time of Queen Kendra and ‘em dealt with the rampant new vampire problem and why Turnings in Cordonia look they way they do now. The fic was almost a completed draft. I just had to nail down some timelines and flesh out the descriptions.

In the Dark, pt 6: Aminah

This chapter picks up where we left with Aminah after she and Adrian get conditional refuge from the Cordonian Vampires. Adrian needs to pick up the serum back from his company which has been seized after what happened at the Vampire ball thingy...its been a while since I have read BloodBound. Since Adrian cannot get it himself, Drake and Aminah are tasked with retrieving it. Aminah and Drake have verbal exchanges. They get ambushed while at Adrian's office. Jax saves them. I just hadn't worked out the details of the ambushing part. I am pretty sure it would have been fin though.

Liam x Halle Pregnancy/Baby series [The Royal Romance]

This was supposed to be a series of one-shots chronicling Liam and Halle's journey to become parents. It has some twists and turns but ends happily...as Liam and Halle deserve. The first two fics, A Wish and A Life-Changing Moment have already been released. It was the rest of the series that have been in progress. I think what made me want to explore Halle and Liam becoming parents (besides wanting to see them have a baby) is writing them in scenarios where they are not in total alignment whether its them essentially wanting the same thing but feeling very differently what their obstacles and challenges are (like in A Wish) or being in completely different headspaces but despite everything they work through those issues and come back together stronger for it.

Liam x Halle Pregnancy/Baby series

This was the outline for the whole series.

A Devastating Loss

This would have been the next part. As you can guess by the title, this would cover Halle and Liam dealing with a miscarriage.

Call for Help 1 & Call for Help 2

These two fics are not immediately after A Devastating Loss, there is a fic between them (that I am honestly surprised doesn't have a draft that I can find). These fics show Liam and Halle working through the aftermath of the miscarriage in therapy. Part 1 was Halle's session and Part 2 was Liam's session.

Driara Series

This was another series of one shots that was supposed to examine the complicated relationship between Kiara and Drake. I actually started this with Bold. While some of the fics do take place in Drake's point of view, it's all about Kiara. I meant for this series to feature Kiara in a way where she was the primary focus, she was cast in a role where she was a central figure of desire, she wasn't a villain (at least to anyone else but herself), and she was given the space to be messy and complicated. Those were the goals of the series. I wanted to do this series in particular because at the time both in canon and the fandom Kiara gets a lot of disrespect (and this was before her part of keeping Liam and MC away from their baby which takes place in later books--I know after that became a plot point, Kiara would never know piece in and out of canon--let alone the fandom--again). So this was a fix it series where it was all about her. What does she want? Where does she fit in? Who does she choose love? It was about getting to see her navigate those questions as her perspective changes from operating in should to operating in want. Now that I am reading the drafts I am getting all kinds of ideas again...but I haven't finished the rest of the TRR series...Very torn.

Driara Fic Outlines

The outline for the series.

Avoidance

This was supposed to be the next fic after Bold which takes place from Drake's perspective. He is in a rough headspace because as much as he wants to be there for Liam after Liam's father dies he can't stop thinking about Kiara and their kiss in Bold. He wants to dig deeper into that but Kiara keeps avoiding him and eventually drops out of the Unity Tour. He also gets in his own way when given the opportunity...Drake is a mess. This is actually mostly written, it's just the details that have to be fleshed out a bit more.

New Options

There are 2 fics in between this and Avoidance. This takes place during the Lantern Festival and it's told from Kiara's perspective. At this point she has been getting a lot more attention from Rashad. Drake has been trying to get closer too, but in less obvious ways. Drake and Kiara do share a moment when lighting their lanterns together but Rashad interrupts them. I have barely started this fic TBH.

Confused

This fic is also in Kiara's POV and take's place during Halle's Bachelorette Party. Kiara has been connecting with Rashad more but is unsure of what she should do in the face of Drake actively pursuing her in a way that he hasn't before. In the midst of all of this Kiara and Drake are tasked by Madeleine to essentially keep Liam and Halle from getting too wild since Halle barred Madeleine from participating in her bachelorette. This involves drunk shenanigans from both Liam and Halle.

Wedding AU

This was a series that kind of started off as a fill I did for an ask where Liam and Halle meet as guests at Leo's vow renewal and it kind of grew from there.

Wedding AU Outline

This is the outline for the series

Wedding AU: Foolishness

The refined version of the initial fic I wrote for the ask.

Wedding AU: Extending the Fairytale

The morning after the first fic where they spend the day together instead of parting ways. Apparently this also has an ask too...

Wedding AU: A Small Decision

The events of Foolishness from Liam's perspective and him deciding to continue to pursue Halle after returning to Cordonia.

Wedding AU: Splurge

Liam gifts Halle an expensive phone and she doesn't know how she feels about it.

Wedding AU: The First Lie

During Liam's first visit to NY since the vow renewal, when Halle asks him more about his background he lies so that he doesn't have to tell her that he is actually a prince.

Wedding AU: Kept

The outline says this was intended to be about how Halle feels about dating someone with the kind of wealth Liam has and how some aspects of that make her uncomfortable. The actual document is blank.

Other Choices fics

Magic [Perfect Match]

Perfect Match fic series

Testing Lily x MC [BloodBound]

I Do...For Real [The Royal Romance]

Your Real Duty [The Royal Romance]

Safe [The Royal Romance]

Sudden [The Royal Romance]

The Boat [The Royal Romance]

I've Got You [The Royal Romance]

#i have never hated formatting posts on tumblr more than i do right now #i wouldn't have this problem if i just followed the rules of the fucking tag #i am definitely sure there are more WIPs but they are lost to the depths of my drive #i wouldn't mind getting asks about these #choices stories you play #the royal romance #perfect match #bloodbound #long post

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alj4890 · 2 years ago

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***shortcuts to my masterlists posted on @alj4890masterlist ***

Mixed Signals (Ethan Ramsey x MC) (Tobias Carrick x MC) (Bryce Lahela x MC) Open Heart AU

Can't Take My Eyes Off of You (Maxwell Beaumont x Olivia Nevrakis) TRR Crackship AU

Worth the Wait (Thomas Hunt x OC) in a what if to A Second Chance AU

Thirty Kisses in Thirty Days (various)

Choices Drabbles and Requests (various)

All Through the Night (Dark TRR AU)

While We're Young (TRR Future AU)

And Then I Met You (Thomas Hunt x OC) (TRR/RCD/PM crossover AU)

And Then I Left You (Thomas Hunt x OC) in a what if to And Then I Met You AU)

A Second Chance (Thomas Hunt x OC) (TRR/RCD/PM crossover AU)

None But You (RCD Regency Era AU)

Misfortune's Intentions (TRH AU) (Liam x OC) (Drake x Riley)

Delicate (TRR/OH crossover AU) (Olivia Nevrakis x Ethan Ramsey)

Another Night/Another Dream (TRR/PM/RCD crossover AU)

The Courtship (TRR Regency Era AU)

Winner at a Losing Game (TRR/RCD crossover AU)

A Million Dreams (TRR/The Greatest Showman AU)

Just a Glimpse (TRR AU)

The Other Friend (TRR AU)

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hopelessromantic1352 · 2 years ago

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Hi! 🤗 As the new year countdown approaches, who are your top 10 MCs or OCs in the Choices fandom. Of course you can include your own as well. Celebrate yourself!

Hi anon! This is a great question! Sorry it took me so long to get around to answering! This made me really think, cause I think for the most part I really focus on our LIs and not the MCs/OCs. Also, this is not in order! It’s just what my squirrel brain comes up with first 🤣

Perfect Match F!MC - I named her Steph - I love how PM feels so fictional, yet real and exciting. Steph romanced Damien and I love their banter, relationship, everything. She is just so sassy, punny, and overall a great character. I feel like most of the older books have great storylines and great characters all around.

My F!OC Natalia York - I made Natalia for a Red Carpet Diaries AU after the disaster they called RCD 3 was released. I personally felt like RCD’s MC was a complete airhead, selfish, and didn’t really care about including her future husband in any wedding planning. I won’t get started on that whole thing 🤦🏼‍♀️🤣 Anywho, I love Natalia because she is so elegant and graceful. She’s so kind and her past has not been easy yet she doesn’t show that part of her. She keeps her walls up much like her counterpart, Thomas. I feel like sometimes I don’t write her well enough and I feel like I don’t do her justice.

@alj4890’s Amanda Bridgerton (F!OC) - This lady right here, I cannot say enough about her. The writer and the character 🤣 my friend created such a unique OC that started out as a match for Maxwell (TRR) and slowly transitioned into a match for Thomas (RCD) and I am so happy 😂 I may feel bad for Maxwell, but not enough to not be happy about Amanda and Thomas. Reading the fics with those two is just amazing because Amanda writes them so well. Every fic I read about the two shows a new light on their relationship. I just… I love them. They’re probably my favorite ship to read about on this app.

@liaromancewriter MAX! He is so awesome. I binge read all your fics and when I got to the ones with him, I fell in love 🥰 This is not taking away from Cassie and Ethan cause I love their dynamic 😍 But Max and Sienna are so freaking cute together! He is so supportive and I remember him being protective of his sis and then he met Sienna and ugh swoon. Love, love, love ❤️❤️❤️

@jerzwriter Casey… need I say more? 🤣 I love the relationship between her and Tobias. Add Ethan in there 🤌🏼 Chef’s kiss. I love how shameless she is and the way she treats her friends. She’s, overall, someone I’d wanna be friends with 😂 But even though this is a question for MCs and OCs, I’m gonna sneak this in here, the way you write Tobias is the best ever. I think you have his character down to a T and it just makes everything with Casey that much better. I feel like those two feed off each other and the stories you come up with are amazing and hilarious 😆

@lovealexhunt Bogart (OC? Right? 😂) I love how you’ve incorporated Thomas and Alex’s (RCD) pet into your fics and you’ve made him such an important part of their lives. It’s amazing to read about Alex and Bogart, they seem like two peas in a pod and I love how she’s created an IG page for him 🤣 He’s such a good doggo for letting his mom dress him up and take lots of pics with him 🥰

@alj4890 Jackson Nevrakis-Walker and Nichole "Nicky" Beaumont - future TRR - I feel like these two HAVE to be together. I couldn’t put them on separate lines 🤣 I’ve read TRR a couple of times now and I just couldn’t get into it like everyone else could. But then I read an RCD/ TRR crossover by my dear friend Amanda, and I learned it is pretty awesome and the characters are pretty amazing. Since then, she created these two in a later down the road TRR and I fell in love with their dynamic. The breakup to them feeling like they should try again. I love the similarities between Nicky and her mom. I just feel like I need more of these two cause they’re adorable together.

@ladylamrian Alex Fontaine - NB - her name makes her sound like a badass 💁🏼‍♀️ which I mean she has to be to deal with Nik 🤣 I love how she’s so happy to be with Nik even though he can be over protective, over bearing, and overall a jerk sometimes. She helps him see that he doesn’t need to be and deals with his attitude, but he does the same with her. You’ve created a happier spin on a couple that could have some dark personalities lol but I love how you write her with Nik ❤️

@cariantha Sawyer - OH - Idk how I haven’t asked to be on your taglist sooner, but oh my lanta I love her! Her relationship with Ethan is so sweet and I love the softness she brings out in him. I can’t wait to read more of her and learn more about her 😍

The Royal Masquerade MC - I named her Juliette - I love her tenacity and bravery. They wrote her to have pride, courage, but still be very down to earth. She’s witty and I personally think they have some of the best faces and hairstyles for TRM’s MC.

Again, these are not in order! And I’m sooo not taking away from any other MCs or OCs y’all have, these are just ones that came to mind and that I personally love 💕

#ask faith #LOVE this ask!!!#choices #playchoices

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harleybeaumont · 2 years ago

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Here are some Maxwell fics I’ve written where he is the main LI! Submitting for day 2 of @maxwell-beaumont-appreciation week!

these first 4 are one shots:

and this last one is a series that starts out as a rewrite of TRR with Max as the LI

#mbaw #maxwell beaumont #maxwell beaumont appreciation #maxwell beaumont appreciation week #trr maxwell

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tornbetween2loves · 5 years ago

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Arcana Unbound: All It Took Was A Moment

This is a collaboration between myself and @innerpostmentality It is a TRR AU set 25 years in the future from the current TRR timeline. The story focuses around the children of the TRR characters.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry, except for our amazing OCs. We claim all of them as our own.

Warning: Parts of this series may contain erotica and scenes of violence. It should not be read by anyone under the age of 18.

Tagging: @darley1101 @gardeningourmet @speedyoperarascalparty @hopefulmoonobject @bobasheebaby @carabeth @sawyeroakleyscowboyhat @riseandshinelittleblossom @stopforamoment @scalpeljockeybrycelahela @furiousherringoperatortoad @indiacater @sirbeepsalot @alesana45 @strangerofbraidwood @museofbooks @furryperfectionlover @ao719 @blackcatkita @kennaxval

Word count: 3488

Featured pairing: Aeneas and Sarissa, Xiphos and Calais

Arcana Unbound masterlist

Four thousand years ago gods and magic shaped and ruled and were plentiful in the world. Man and all the creatures were shaped and marked by it. Then things began to change. Gradually those things of magic diminished and the things of science took precedence until magic became a myth tucked away safely in children’s fairy tales and skilled entertainer’s parlor tricks.

It’s been a thousand years of progress unmarked by true magic.

…………………….. Things are about to change.

Sarissa stood outside the door of Calais’ room, her mouth dry and her palms sweaty. She raised her hand and knocked softly. “Calais? It’s Sarissa. Are you awake? Can we talk?” She pressed her ear to the door and tried to make out the incoherent mumbling on the other side. A few moments later the door opened. Calais stood there yawning and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She yawned and gestured Sarissa into the room. The girls sat down next to each other on the bench at the foot of the bed. “Calais, I’m sorry for being so angry. I shouldn’t have reacted like I did. I was surprised.” She paused to collect her thoughts.

Calais wrapped Sarissa in a big hug and relaxed into her shoulder. "Please don't be mad."

Sarissa sighed as she wrapped her arm around her friend. “Why didn’t you tell me, Calais?”

"Cause it wasn't going to happen. I didn't want your pity. There wasn't a point. He didn't even see me when I was there."

She shook her head. "Yesterday was just weird."

“Tell me about it. Weird is not the word.” She sighed deeply. “It is obvious to anyone with half a brain that you and Xiphos are crazy about each other.” She looked into her eyes. “I’m happy for you, Calais.

"I don't know what happened." She shook her head. "Aeneas was goading me about participating in the social season. And I was trying to get him to give it a rest. So I told him I already liked someone." She rolled her eyes. "That was the wrong move. Because then he was like a dog with a bone. I wouldn't tell him who it was and he knew I hadn't told the person I liked and he said I had to tell them. When Aeneas gets his stubborn up he doesn't let go. So I knew I had to tell him. One minute I was telling Xiphos that I liked him but I knew he liked Aeneas... " She shook her head. "And that he had been running away from that. And the next thing...."

She looked at Sarissa with a wondering expression. "Your brother is amazing. I'm so sorry I upset you."

Sarissa smiled and looked at Calais, her eyes sparkled. “It’s okay. Your brother is amazing too.” She spoke softly and her cheeks flushed a deep red. She shifted her eyes to the floor. “When Leo and I found you and Xiphos in the stables I didn’t understand how two people could be so utterly smitten with each other in literally a day.” She lifted her head back up to meet Calais’ gaze. “But now I understand.”

Calais pulled back and looked at her, one brow lifted. "Aeneas?"

Sarissa smiled sheepishly as she nodded. Her cheeks were still pink. “Calais, I couldn’t even explain it if I tried. I’ve spent all these years keeping Aeneas at arm’s length, I was so sure that he would be the king I would protect with my life. All it took was a moment. One moment completely changed my entire outlook on life.”

She smiled thoughtfully. "I know exactly what you mean. But I wasn't sure. You know Leo has a total crush on you. And Aeneas doesn't let himself get close." She shakes her head. "Though I knew something was up with him last night when he practically walked into a door to go get something for Xiphos to take to you." She giggled. "I hadn't seen him do that before."

Sarissa couldn’t help the blush that spread across her cheeks. “I really can’t even explain it. Being with him just feels so.....” She struggled to find the right words. “Perfect? Meant to be? I don’t know, maybe I’ve gone mad.” Both girls giggled. “Aeneas said that Leo was a better catch than him. He tried to push me away. But he may have met his match in stubbornness.”

Calais got a soft loving look on her face. "I hope so. He deserves someone who can love all of him. The man as well as the prince, the king he will someday be. I know that it's not going to be easy Sarissa." Her dark eyes locked with her friends. "It's not just that Aeneas will be king. It's that he also wants to be king. He has this construct in his head of the perfect king and he dedicates himself to fitting that model. Sometimes it means he sacrifices his desire to fit that." She sighed. "It's not always a healthy thing. I hope you can make him see that he can be happy and still be a great king."

Sarissa smiled at her friend. “I hope so too. He tried to push me away last night and something I said got through to him. Not sure what but he opened himself up and let me in.” Her smile faded. “But I’m scared, Calais. I’m scared he’ll shut me out and I won’t be able to get him to let me back in.”

"Hey" Calais hugged her. "This whole thing is scary. I.." She trailed off.

Sarissa wrapped her arms around her friend. When she hesitated she pulled back to look in her dark eyes. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything. Anything.”

Her voice was very soft. "I truly don't know if I'm strong enough for Xiphos, Sarissa. I... "she shook her head and her voice was flat. "There was someone... and I thought he cared for me. But it was all lies. Just lies. Just bragging rights. He, he.." Tears ran down her cheeks silently. "Fucking princess bull shit. All he wanted was to say he'd fucked the princess of Cordonia. Got pictures too. So if I went to anyone they would mysteriously wind up with the press." She burst into tears.

Sarissa’s mouth dropped open as she wrapped her arms around Calais. “Oh I’m so sorry. That’s awful.” She pulled back, anger flared in her grey eyes as she looked at her broken friend. “Tell me who he is. I’ll kill him myself. Then you won’t have to worry about pictures.” Her eyes softened a bit as Calais looked up at her and shook her head slowly. Sarissa sighed and wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulder to pull her close. Her voice was soft and quiet, close to Calais’ ear. “You are one of the strongest people I know. I would be more worried about my brother being strong enough for you.”

Calais shook her head and sniffed then reached over and grabbed a tissue from her bedside table. "Your brother..." She dabbed her eyes. "He was supposed to be... safe?" She laughed. "Too beautiful to be true. Too popular to ever really notice me. Just a fantasy. A dream to love me, just me when no one else could see past the mark and the tiara. I knew he was obsessed with my brother. That just made him safer." She shook her head and looked up. "Oh God... I was so dumb."

Sarissa smiled gently at her friend. “I haven’t yet spoken to Xiphos, but I could tell when he came to my room last night that he has changed.” She wrapped her arm around Calais’ shoulders. “My brother is not as shallow as everyone makes him out to be. He has a big heart and truly just wants to find someone who will love him for who he is, not because he’s ‘Cordonia’s most eligible bachelor’. I think you both are a lot alike. You’re well-suited for each other.” Her smile faded and was replaced by a serious look. “I’m very sorry I reacted like I did. But I want you to know I’m happy for you both. I think you’ll make each other very happy.”

"I never thought he was shallow." she looked down. "I thought he was drowning himself in sex to try to forget Aeneas." She smiled softly. "Aeneas never saw Xiphos’ attraction to him. I'm not sure he ever saw anyone's attraction to him. Or maybe it was because he could never tell if it was him or his crown. Or one but not the other. He's not like Uncle Leo. He's never going to abdicate. Well maybe in 30 years or so. You have to realize that, Sarissa. I don't think Aeneas would ever do a 'fling'." She laughed, "It wouldn't surprise me at all if he's the only virgin left in the family."

Sarissa’s eyes went wide. “Aeneas? A virgin?” The color drained from her face. “Y-you mean....oh my god.” She shook her head and sighed deeply. She looked directly into Calais’ face with resolve. “I’m not interested in having a fling with your brother. I want to get to know him. I want to know the man behind the crown.” She paused for a moment. “You should know that I probably understand the pressures of the crown better than any of Aeneas’ other potential suitors. I think he deserves someone who can love all of him. The man, the crown prince and one day king.” She smiled hopefully at her friend. “I think I could do that. I could love him the way he deserves. If he’ll let me.”

Calais laughed softly. "Hey, I believe you. I wasn't accusing you of just wanting a fling with my brother. I was trying to assure you that if he's letting you in.... Well it's not a simple switch with him. I don't think he is going to turn it off. And if he's not.." She blushed, "If he's not as forward with you as you might expect. It's probably more just not being sure how to proceed. Being in uncharted territory as it were. I think he decided a long time ago that the best way to be certain there weren't going to be a slew of headlines about who he was involved with and the string of broken hearts and relationships and stories was just not to be involved at all. So he focused on his studies and his job and committed himself to the country and the people.

Sarissa nodded. “Well what happened this morning makes a lot more sense to me now that’s for sure.” Her smile faded as she looked at Calais very seriously. “So you mean to tell me I have to take the crown prince’s virginity?” Her face grew pale and her eyes widened. “I-I oh my....” She looked down wringing her hands in her lap. “I never thought...I mean I just assumed.....oh hell.” She tossed her hands in the air and looked at Calais sheepishly. “Never mind. Just ignore my stupidity please.”

Calais looked away and shrugged. "It should be someone who really cares for him. I think he's really lucky to have you Sarissa."

She frowned a bit. "I told your brother I want to sculpt him. He said I could.... Honestly part of me is afraid he's going to wake up and feel like yesterday was a leap off a cliff he wasn't ready for. I can still feel him Sarissa. Like he's part of me. And I love it. And it terrifies me at the same time."

Sarissa smiled at her friend. “I know how you feel. Have you heard from him yet today?” She looked down at her phone. “Actually never mind. I’m fairly certain he’s not awake yet.” She giggled. “I had the best time with Aeneas this morning Calais. I never realized your brother had such a good sense of humor. He’s really funny.”

Calais lifted a brow and used her most droll tone, "I laugh at him all the time. It builds character. Keeps him from getting the big head like he was the crown prince or something."

Sarissa raised an eyebrow at her friend. “Wanna come over? We could hang out and gossip about our brothers and when Xiphos rolls out of bed around 2 we can make sure he was ready to jump off that cliff yesterday.”

"Oooh That sounds wonderful! But I have to shower." She sniffed her shirt. "Somehow I doubt smelling like last night’s sea bass is really in the top 5 of how to get a guy to like you." She grins, "Remember you maybe. But not in a good way."

Calais hopped out of bed. "You want to pick something out for me to wear while I shower? That way I don't have to play head games with myself about 'Will he like this? Is this too much?'"

Sarissa giggled. “Sure. Although you would look good in a potato sack. I’m sure my brother would agree.” She walked into the closet, pulling out a selection of blouses and sweaters. She selected a pair of dark skinny jeans with a form-fitting off the shoulder sweater. Calais came out of the shower a few minutes later in a bathrobe with her hair wrapped in a towel. Sarissa held up the sweater. “I happen to know my brother has a thing for bare shoulders and collarbones.” She raised an eyebrow and winked at her friend.

Calais blushed and dropped her eyes. "I've never worn that. I like it. But it leaves my left shoulder bare..." She got a determined look. "You know what? I think it's time I wore it!"

She grabbed it and the jeans then went into her walk in and realized the mess she left in there the night before when she tossed her half packed suit case back in there. She frowned digging though her lingerie drawer picking out emerald green lace boy cut underwear and a matching bra. She donned the jeans and pulled the sweater on. The straps of the green bra were showing above the fold of the top of the dark maroon sweater and her birthmark swept down from her face across her throat, shoulder and down her chest disappearing below the cut of the sweater. She straightened her spine and went out to face Sarissa.

"What do you think?"

Sarissa smiled big at her friend. “You look amazing Calais. My brother will have to pick his chin up off the floor.”

"I feel a little naked." She laughed. "You better get me out of here before I chicken out and put on coveralls and a turtleneck."

She took the towel off her hair and it fell like a damp curtain down her back. She sighed. "This is going to be wet for hours if I don't dry it. Can you help me?" Calais’ hair unbraided hung to her waist. "I keep thinking about cutting it. It's just such a chore." She smiled. "Dad likes it."

Sarissa nodded and gestured for Calais to sit at the vanity. She combed her friend’s hair gently before reaching for the hair dryer and a round brush. “You better not cut it. Your hair is so soft, like homespun silk.” She turned on the dryer and aimed it at each section, pulling the brush through from root to tip. When it was all dry, Sarissa smiled at her friend in the mirror as she combed her fingers through the silky strands. “I have an idea.” She rifled through a drawer and pulled out a jewel-encrusted butterfly clip. She swept Calais’ hair to one side, securing it with an elastic. She flipped the ponytail over once and secured it with the clip. The ponytail fanned across her shoulder and collarbone, covering a large portion of the birthmark. Sarissa smiled. “How’s that? Feel a little better?”

Calais smiled at her friend and nodded. "Hey, Thanks. Thanks for listening. And still being my friend. I promise I'll be good to your brother. I really love him Sarissa. I.. I didn't think I could after." She shook herself and grabbed Sarissa's hand and looked into her eyes. "Just thanks."

Sarissa wrapped her arms around her friend and pulled her into a big hug. “I’ll always be your friend Calais. Nothing will ever change that.” She pulled out of the embrace and smiled. “I know you love him. I can tell you two have something special. I wish you every happiness.”

She blushed. "Let's go. Before I start checking my phone obsessively."

Sarissa blushed. “Ummm sure let’s go. But Calais I didn’t drive here. I came in the limo with Aeneas.” She smiled at her friend sheepishly. “Can you arrange a ride for us?”

Calais grinned "You know.... we could take horses. Your house isn't far from the palace."

Sarissa’s face lit up. “That’s a fabulous idea! Then you and Xiphos could enjoy a romantic horseback ride on the beach.”

Calais smiled shyly before she drug her out of the room and down to the stables. She smiled at Evan at the door and told him that they were going for a ride. Then they giggled all the way to the stables. In short time the horses were saddled and they were riding off down the service path which led to the parking lot. And then to the streets. She told the guard at the main gate they were going to Bastien's house. And he lifted a brow but let them go.

They drew more than a little attention. Two beautiful women riding horses in the streets of the capital as they chatted and walked along. Calais was recognized and she waved and smiled but didn't stop. And it didn't actually take that much longer before they were riding through the gates at the entrance to Sarissa's house. They tied the horses up to one of the yard lamps and went giggling into the house.

Calais laughed. "I thought the guard was going to stop us for sure."

Sarissa broke into a fit of giggles. “I don’t know how we managed to pull that off. I thought for sure we would be escorted back to the palace at any moment.” She turned around and ran smack dab into Bastien. “Oh! Daddy, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.

He stood before them, arms crossed across his chest. He raised an eyebrow at his daughter. “You two rode horses through town all the way from the palace? Without a guard escort?” He narrowed his eyes at them. Sarissa shot Calais a helpless look.

Calais looked at Bastien and smiled then hugged him. "Uncle Bastien, I had Sarissa and we didn't stop. And we did tell the guard where we were going. I can call them and let them know we are safe or you can. I just wanted to get out for a bit. It's my fault."

Bastien softened a bit at the embrace. “Yes, I know you told the guard. He called me.” He looked pointedly at Sarissa over Calais’ shoulder. “You really shouldn’t be out without guards. However, I know that Sarissa would protect you with her life if necessary.” He smiled. “Next time just take the limo or call me and I’ll send a car.”

Calais fidgeted looking a little guilty. "So if I maybe wanted to ride on the beach later??? Please Uncle Bastien? I'll take Xiphos and Sarissa. And the dogs... Please? It's not planned so I don't think the beach ninjas will be waiting to kidnap us." She looked down so he couldn't see her grin.

Bastien sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t see any harm in a ride on the beach. As long as both Sarissa and Xiphos are with you.” He sighed deeply and looked into Calais’ eyes. He smiled gently at her. “Your father would kill me if I let something happen to you.” He saw the happiness in her eyes and sensed there was a change in her. “My dear, you look wonderful today. You are simply glowing with happiness. Has something changed since I saw you last?” Calais’ cheeks flushed pink as she exchanged a knowing glance with Sarissa.

She nodded and hugged Bastien again. "Yes. I sort of fell in love." She gave him another glowing smile before she grabbed Sarissa's hand and dashed off to Sarissa's room giggling.

She got on the other side of the door and covered her mouth over a squeal. "I know. I know. I told him the truth... sort of." Then she looked concerned. "Should I have asked his permission? I mean Xiphos is an adult. I don't want your dad to find out from paparazzi? But Xiphos should probably tell him don't you think? Oh my God... I don't want MY Dad to find out from paparazzi for sure. We need to have a plan..."

Sarissa’s eyes got wide. “Oh no, it would be awful if either of our parents found out from the press.” She smiled at Calais. “Aeneas already asked my dad’s permission.” She held up her index finger. “Hang on a second. You’re right, Xiphos should be the one to talk to both our parents. Wait here for a minute.”

#choices fandom #long post #future au of trr #arcana unbound

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bobasheebaby · 6 years ago

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Almost (prologue part 2)

Pairing: Rashad x Lennox(future), Liam x Lennox (Past)

Word count: 694

Warnings: angst

Summary: Liam’s reaction to the scandal and Lennox leaving.

A/N: @cocomaxley is to blame for this mess! @katurrade gave me the series title, thanks babe! My brain decided we needed Liam’s take so here my streak of not hurting Liam is now over. I must love you guys, two posts in one day!

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters, I’m simply borrowing them for a bit.

Liam was pacing his study, he couldn’t understand where things went so wrong. He found love, he was going to do what was good for the country and himself, but someone stopped him from getting his happy ending. He had been furious when he saw the photos, he knew right away they weren’t real, he wanted to shout at Regina that they were fake and that he still chose Lennox. He knew if they went this far to keep her from him that it wasn’t safe, he couldn’t choose her, yet. His heart broke in two when he watched her being led away from the ballroom, ripped from his life.

Anger burned through his veins as he announced that he was choosing Madeline, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He saw Lennox’s face fall as he said Madeline’s name instead of hers. He just had to talk to her, explain that he did this to protect her. They would find out who set her up and clear her name and then they could be married. He didn’t want to rule Cordonia with anyone else by his side. He just needed to speak to her, explain, tell her what was in his heart—make sure she knew he had been honest with her in the hedge maze.

The hedge maze, that was the highlight of Liam’s night. He had been expecting it to be showing off his new fiancé as they danced, the diamond engagement ring sparkling on her finger under the ballroom lights. This night wasn’t supposed to end like this, with her being drug away from the palace, and him pacing his study waiting to hear from Maxwell that she was safe at Beaumont manor.

Liam roughly ran his hand through his black hair, where did this all go wrong? How can I protect her as my bride if I can’t protect her as my suitor? He walked to the bar cart in the corner of the room, pouring a generous glass of whiskey, he gulped it down in three sips, relishing in the burn in the back of his throat. Why hasn’t Maxwell called yet? They should be back at the estate by now! I need to see her, talk to her. I need to make sure she understands.

Liam glanced at the time displayed on his phone, his impatience growing as the time ticked on. The picture set as his background of him and Lennox at the Forgotten Falls making him smile. I should have told her then. He paced the room again, his nerves on edge, he couldn’t sit still, he was caged tiger pacing waiting to be set free.

“Liam!” Maxwell shouted running into the study, slightly out of breath.

“Maxwell, what are you doing here? Why aren’t with Lennox at Beaumont manor?” Liam asked, shock etched on his face.

“Liam, she left. She said she wished she never came. She’s gone, she’s not coming back.” Maxwell replied solemnly.

“What?” Liam questioned, his face falling, voice cracking as tears filled his eyes.

“She said you lied to her and she would be happier in New York.” Maxwell explained, flinching at Liam’s pained expression.

Liam dropped onto the sofa, his head falling into his hands. “I can see why she would think that.” He said sadly, his heart breaking all over again.

Liam chose Madeline to protect her, he planned to help her clear her name and marry her instead, she left before he could ever explain. This couldn’t be the end, there had to be a way to win her back, to explain, to make her see that he never lied like she thought. There was no way he could marry Madeline, he refused, he needed to do whatever he had to to free them both and win her back. He stood up, more determined than ever to find out who set her up, kept her from him. He would uncover the culprit and clear her name and go and win her back free to marry her. He wouldn’t allow this to be the end of them, he couldn’t let their happy ending slip through his fingers.

Law of Love Masterlist

Masterlist

Tags: @imafictosexual @speedyoperarascalparty @liamxs-world @annekebbphotography @dallaschrisjames @hopefulmoonobject @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @riseandshinelittleblossom @cocomaxley @ao719 @carabeth @blackwidow2721 @furiousherringoperatortoad @sarwin85 @fullbeaumonty

#trr au #choices royal romance #future Rashad x MC #past liam x mc #king liam #maxwell beaumont #law of love #lol #lennox alexander

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choicesficwriterscreations · 11 months ago

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Thank you to our creators who have submitted their Top 5 fics of 2023! I know this is a terribly difficult task. After all, I did it myself! But I've always felt this list was the more important of the two - it's not about the numbers; it's about the works that nourished their creator's souls and brought them joy. So, thanks to each of you for sharing with us! Links to all stories can be found below the break!

@aallotarenunelma ✒️

Moonlit Hearts (IL/ID Crossover/AU) - Original Characters

Childhood Memories (ILW) - Lincoln McQuoid x NB!MC

Close to the Flame (ILW) - Lincoln McQuoid x NB!MC

Another Sun Will Rise (ILITW) - Dan Pierce x MC

Indigo Blood (ID) - Cas Harlow x MC

@angelasscribbles ✒️

The DeFacto Queen (TRR) Ⓜ️ - Drake x MC, Liam x MC

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

The Dark Kingdom (TRR) Ⓜ️ - Drake x MC, Liam x MC

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

Laws End (TRR) Ⓜ️- Drake Walker x MC, Liam Rys x MC

@baldwinboy5ive 🎨and ✒️

Aerin Prison Visit (BOLAS) 🎨- Aerin Valleros x F!MC

The Right Path (BOLAS) ✒️- Aerin Valleros x F!MC

Name on the Wall (BOLAS) ✒️- Aerin Valleros x F!MC

Bye-Bye Baldur (BOLAS) 🎨- Aerin Valleros

Aerin x Raine Fanart (BOLAS) 🎨- Aerin Valeros x MC

@cariantha ✒️

All He Wanted (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Hey Stranger (OH) Ⓜ️ - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

For You, I Will (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

War & Peace (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

A Solid Strategy (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

@coffeeheartaddict2 ✒️

Everybody Hurts Sometimes, Ch. 7 Ⓜ️(OH) - Ethan Ramsey, MC

Love in all Forms (OH) - Ethan Ramsey, F!OC, Tobias Carrick

Power to Overcome (OH) - F!MC, Aurora Emery

Everybody Hurts Sometimes, Ch. 15 Ⓜ️(OH) - Ethan Ramsey, etc.

Desire Ⓜ️(OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

@inlocusmads ✒️

Past Lives (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

Music for the Lost (and Found) (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

The Feverish Itch (Guinevere) - Guinevere, Queen Artura, F!Lancelot

Cross Your Heart and Set it Ablaze (COP) Trystan Thorne x F~!MC

The Bow That Burned Bright (BOLAS) - F!Elf!MC, Kade

@jerzwriter ✒️

A Mother's Journal Ⓜ️(WTD) - Eli Sipes

What's Forever For Ⓜ️(OH/AU) - Tobias Carrick, F!MC

Breathe Again (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

A Bit Dark (OH) - F!MC x F!OC

I Do, Me Too (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

@ladylamrian ✒️

Welcome to the World of Night (NB) - NB Side Characters

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

Towards the Future (NB) - Nik Ryder x F!MC

Duty & Pleasure (NB) - Nik Ryder x F!MC

Sweet & Tender Hearts (NB) - Original Characters

@liaromancewriter ✒️

La Vie Avec Toi (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC, Sienna Trinh x M!OC

Late Shift (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

The Reluctant Valentine (OH) - Sienna Trinh x M!OC

When the Clock Strikes Twelve (OH/AU) - Sienna Trinh x M!OC

Breaking News (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

@moominofthevalley ✒️

The Haunting, Part 1 (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

Turpentine (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

The Girl With the Glass (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

I Will (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

Future Days (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

@peonierose ✒️

Wildflower (OH) - Keiki Lahela x M!OC

Kintsugi (OH) - Original Characters

Summer's Kiss (OH) - Bryce Lahela x F!OC

I'm a Sucker for You (OH) - Bryce Lahela x F!OC

Rose All Day (OH) - Bryce Lahela, Keiki Lahela, OCs

@stars-are-within-me ✒️

The Rain (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

Reflections (BOLAS) - Aerin Valleros

A Day Off (COP) - Trystan Thorne x MC

In the Gray (COP) - Eveline Goncharov, Maksim Thorne, etc.

The Lonely Prince (BOLAS) - Aerin Valleros x MC

@storyofmychoices ✒️

Shadows & Deceptions: A Royal Murder Mystery (Crossover/AU)

Can I Have This Dance? (OH) - Bryce Lahela x F!OC

Shadows of Hope (BOLAS) - Mal Volari x F!MC

The Quest for Daenarya (BOLAS) - Mal Volari x F!MC

Dealing with a Narcissist (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

@tessa-liam ✒️

Smoke & Mirrors, Ch. 11 Ⓜ️(TRR) - Liam Rys x MC

Cappadocia Ⓜ️ (TRR) - Liam Rys x MC

Marabelle, Ch. 2 Ⓜ️ (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

Turning the Page, Ch. 5 Ⓜ️ (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

Ti Amo Molto Ⓜ️ (TRR) - Liam Rys x MC

@trappedinfanfiction ✒️

Fast Break, Epilogue (OH/AU) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

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

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

By Your Side (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

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

@zealouscanonindeer ✒️

Dangerous Games Ⓜ️ (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Naughty & Nice (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Like Whom? (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Roots (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Drunken Nights (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

#choices fic writers creations #creator top 5 #playchoices #choices stories you play #it lives anthology #immortal desires #the royal romance #blades of light and shadow #open heart #crimes of passion #guinevere #wake the dead #nightbound #choices fanfic #choices fanart #playchoices fanfic #playchoices fanart #long post

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karahalloway · 9 months ago

Text

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 17 - News Flash

Fandom: TRR

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

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Harper and the Beaumonts get on a plane to Italy… but they are not riding solo

Word Count: 4,500

Rating/Warnings: M (using the Lord's name in vain, shocking revelations, possible ulterior motives)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: And… we’re back! I know this is a bit delayed, thanks to my new Heaven’s Secret distraction, but I am hoping to refocus myself on this continuously neglected series again for the next few weeks/months so we can make some headway towards wrapping it up. Also, I know we all miss him, and he hasn’t had as much page time as we all (Harper included!) probably want, but I promise that after this chapter there will be a lot more Drake again 🥃

A/N2: Astute readers will probably notice that there is nary a train in sight (in this chapter, or any future ones). This is deliberate because (i) I never understood why PB went in that direction in canon (is a travelling boutique really that important?!), and (ii) trains don’t make sense from a security point of view anyway (apparently the UK’s Royalty and Specialist Protection — which provides close protection to the royal family — used to hate it when Elizabeth II travelled by train, because it was always a massive headache to ensure her safety as trains travel on a fixed route and schedule, with no opportunities for diversion or evasion of things go to pot). So… planes it is ✈️

A/N3: Finally, another special shoutout to @thegreentwin for giving me the inspiration to have a crack at creating the tabloid cover page featured in this chapter. If you have not read The Rebel Prince, please do so! It is cute, funny, insightful and the gossip magazine covers that accompany several of the chapters are something else!

Chapter 17 - News Flash

"I thought we're going to Italy..." I remark the next morning as we pull to a stop on the tarmac of a secluded private airfield.

"We are," confirms Bertrand, jamming a fedora onto his head to protect against the ferocity of the morning sun... and hide the brutal sunburn he managed to acquire as a result of spending the entirety of yesterday's Festival outdoors without any SPF protection.

"Then what's with the literal mountain of luggage?" I ask as we step out of our customary limo.

Bertrand fixes me with a red-faced glare over the roof of the vehicle. "Have you learnt nothing from the social season?"

I throw him a deadpan look. "You mean apart from the fact that you insist on packing everything, including the kitchen sink?"

Maxwell's snort drifts up from the backseat.

The elder Beaumont is not impressed with my clapback. "The engagement tour will be one high-profile event after the other, which means that we will have neither the time nor the opportunity to engage in slap-dash shopping sprees. Not only would such proletarian behaviour be rude, but it would be misguided as well, given that we need to ensure that for each event we abide not just by the formal dress code indicated on the invitation, but also that we do not clash with, or indeed overshadow the hosts — or the King and future Queen, for that matter! — in terms of style and colour, all while being thoughtful in ensuring that we incorporate elements from both local and Cordonian designers to visually showcase the strength of the bonds that knit our respective nations together. On top of all that, it is imperative that we—"

"How the heck is anyone expected to pull all that off?" I blurt in disbelief.

"Through careful planning and coordination," Bertrand declares as he comes to join Maxwell and me on the other side of the limo. "Which is why I have taken the liberty of pre-selecting each outfit for each event of the tour, in consultation with the Palace's Master of the Robes."

My mouth drops. "You... Put a wardrobe together? For me?"

"Yes," comes the diffident affirmation. "Given that all eyes — not just those of our fellow Cordonians, but of our host nations' — will be on us constantly, we cannot afford any fashion faux pas."

I stare at my former sponsor mutely, mouth opening and closing like a dumbfounded goldfish.

Maxwell attempts to diffuse my slap-faced reaction with a jovial grin. "Bertrand used to lay my clothes out for me all the time when we were younger. I know he doesn't look it, but he has excellent—"

I shove an accusatory finger out. "He tried to foist me into a Medieval cosplay dress! That is the exact opposite of excellent taste!"

The elder Beaumont bristles. "It was hardly—"

"And how the hell did you afford all of this anyway?" I interject, throwing my arm out towards the carefully stacked Eiffel Tower of suitcases. "Because last time I checked, you were flat broke!"

Bertrand's already ruddy complexion darkens further. "There is no need for you to concern yourself with—"

"How?!"

After the way Maxwell had tried to sell covert photos and Christian and me from New York to the press in a bid to make bank, I am not willing to take any kind of half-baked deflection when it comes to the Beaumonts and money. I've been used one too many times for someone else's gain, so my trust is virtually non-existent at this point.

Bertrand swallows thickly as he averts his eyes. "I... I may have made recourse to an old sewing machine I found in the attic..."

My eyes just about pop out of my head. "You what?!"

I'd expected any one of six million other explanations — he'd sold the vineyard... remortgaged Ramsford... auctioned off every last chair and curtain from the manor... Even offered his soul to the literal Devil...

But using a sewing machine...? To make actual clothes...?

I had obviously caught the sun yesterday as well, and am now suffering from heat stroke...

"Bertrand has always been interested in fashion," explains Maxwell with a perfectly straight face. "He even wanted to enroll at the world-renowned Istituto Marangoni International in Milan to study Fashion Design. But then our father took unexpectedly ill, and—"

"Yes, yes..." interjects Bertrand with an embarrassed wave of his hand. "No need to revisit broken dreams and unfulfilled promises. The point is that I made the best use of what meagre funds and resources we had at our disposal to curate a serviceable selection of outfits for each of us. With a little help from Maxwell, of course."

"I was the mannequin," he declares proudly. "I admit, I got poked a few times in the line of duty, but it was worth it. Bertrand did a stellar job – you're going to love what he made for you."

"I... I don't know what to say..." I admit faintly.

And here I'd been thinking that Bertrand's closet Harry Potter obsession had been a big reveal...

"Yes... Well..." Bertrand clears his throat uncomfortably. "We each have our unique talents. Speaking of... I trust you have been practicing your Italian?"

I frown. "My what?"

"You were supposed to give her lessons!" cries Bertrand, smacking his brother over the back of the head.

Maxwell's retro '60s sunglasses fly off his face. "My Prada’s...!"

"What about French?" Bertrand demands, rounding on me with all the intensity of a furious tomato on the verge of exploding.

"Allard and Schweitzer have been teaching—"

"Some initiative at last!" exclaims Bertrand, throwing his hands up in the air in deliverance. "Good — you'll have some semblance of a basis, then. However, while both languages share a common root — that being Latin — and a border, as a result of roughly fifteen centuries of historical and linguistic divergence, Italian has become markedly different from its Gallic cousin, so we will have our work cut out in making you even semi-proficient by the time we land in Rome. So, I hope you brought pen and paper with you."

My shoulders slump as I watch Bertrand stride off towards the waiting plane. "Great..."

There goes the next hour and a half of my life...

"I knew I had forgotten something..." admits Maxwell, rubbing the back of his head as he retrieves his sunglasses from the tarmac. "But I thought it was just my second favourite pair of boxers."

"It's fine..." I assure wearily him as I begin my own trudge towards the jet. "It wouldn't be a true Beaumont travel experience without a droning Bertrand lecture..."

Though I guess it could be worse. I could be stuck on the royal jet with Christian and Madeleine. Which — after what happened yesterday — would be like staging an aristocratic rendition of Squid Game... 20,000 feet in the air. So, on that basis, I'll willingly subject myself to Bertrand's monologuing any day of the week, if it means I can—

"And there she is..." remarks a familiar, though very much unexpected voice as I step onto the plane. "The woman of the hour."

Jerking my head to the right, my eyes land on Olivia, lounging on one of the cream-coloured leather seats, her killer spike stiletto boots dangling over the armrest as she casually peruses a broadsheet.

"What are you doing here?" I ask in disbelief.

Olivia lowers the paper to meet my eye with a quirked brow. "You mean, on my own aircraft?"

I cast a glance in Bertrand's direction as I make my way down the gangway. "Guess your meagre funds and resources didn't extend to sourcing jet fuel?"

Bertrand coughs evasively as he stores his briefcase in the overhead locker. "Since we are all heading in the same direction anyway, Lady Oliva was kind enough to—"

"Shut it, Beaumont," Olivia snaps. "I am doing this as a personal favour, not an act of charity. As Lord knows that I wouldn't normally tolerate sharing recycled air with this many people in a confined space. So, if you want to stay on this plane, you will save the histrionics for the Italian President."

Bertrand promptly clamps his mouth shut to sink into his seat without another word.

"Wow..." I say, settling in across from Olivia. "He must've been really desperate to come to you for help... No offence."

"None taken," she replies with a breezy shrug as she flips the broadsheet closed and nods to the cabin attendant. "Because the request didn't come from the Beaumonts."

My head snaps up in surprise. "Then who?"

She regards me for a long moment, as if debating whether to tell me. Finally, she lets out a resigned exhale. "Drake."

My jaw hits the floor. "What!"

Olivia scrunches her mouth up ruefully. "He twisted my arm into agreeing to look out for you while he's off playing desert soldier."

I stare at her. "How in the world did he—?"

Maxwell thrusts his head 'round the back of Olivia's seat. "Drake's playing video games! Instead of coming to Italy?”

The Duchess of Lythikos shoves the intruding face away with the palm of her hand. "No, you imbecile! Drake's gone to Dubai." Glancing at me she adds, "I presume they know?"

"They do now," I concede with a sigh.

Thanks to the slew of quick-fire developments at yesterday's Festival, followed by the rabid packing to get ourselves ready for the international leg of the tour, I haven't had a chance to bring the Beaumonts up to speed with everything that's happened in the past twenty-four hours.

But they're bound to find out about Drake's last-minute side-trip at some point, so this is as good a time as any to level with them.

Maxwell’s mouth drops with an aghast look. "But I didn't hit him that hard!"

Olivia quirks a brow at me.

"Long story, don't ask," I tell her wearily. Glancing up at Maxwell, I add, "He's gone after Tariq. Bastien found him hiding out on some rich cousin's yacht out in the bay."

"Oh." Maxwell scratches his head abashedly. "That makes more sense..."

"How do you put up with these two?" asks Olivia with a shake of her head as Maxwell sinks back into his seat.

I give her a shrug. "They have a weird way of growing on you..."

"Like some deadly fungus..." she mutters with a roll of her eyes.

"I heard that!" objects Maxwell from behind her.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't eavesdrop, then!" she throws over her shoulder snidely. Turning back to me, she adds, "And speaking of funguses, you can remind your boyfriend when he gets back that you both owe me. Big time."

My gaze darts to hers. "I— We're not—"

"Thank you for confirming it," she interjects with a sly smile. "But also, I'm not an idiot. It's obvious to anyone with a set of eyes that the fool is in love with you... and you with him. It's all quite disgusting, really..."

I feel my cheeks redden. "So, why help us, then?"

She heaves a low breath. "Because you stuck your neck out for me when you didn't have to. Despite everything I did to try and undermine you during the season. And because we have a common enemy."

She tosses the broadsheet that she'd been reading over to me.

Catching the copy of the Cordonia Sun before it has a chance to slide off the table between us, I glance down...

...and my heart sinks as I take in the unflattering picture of myself seemingly facing off against Madeleine under the sensationalist headline.

I shove the paper angrily away. "Hey. I didn't start it..."

"And yet you somehow always manage to find yourself in the middle of it, don't you?" she counters with an arched brow as the jet revs its engines for take-off. "The half-nude pictures... The Beaumonts' financial troubles... The speculations about the real reason Christian gave you a duchy... I mean, even the Duchess of Sussex would have a hard time competing with you when it comes to front-page scandals."

"And you think Madeleine is behind it all?" I ask tightly, indicating the tabloid.

"She would certainly have a lot to gain from waging a targeted media campaign against you," Olivia affirms. "She isn't married to Christian yet, and after what happened with Leo, she no doubt feels threatened by your continued presence at court. So, discrediting your integrity in the eyes of the Council would help her ensure that Christian can never formally pick you over her to become Queen."

"Because she doesn't know I turned him down..." I grumble dejectedly as the plane pulls into the air.

"And certainly would not believe you if you told her, either," she adds. "But she is not the only one with something to lose."

I sit up straighter. "You mean there are other suspects?"

"Yes," she nods. "Namely Godfrey and the Queen Mother."

Bertrand erupts from his seat at the mention of the two names. "That is an outrageous accusation! The Queen Mother would never—!"

"Madeleine is her niece," counters Olivia flatly. "Given that she has no children of her own, she practically treats that golden-haired harpy as if she is her heir. And since she was the one who brokered the original marriage contract between Leo and Madeleine, she clearly doesn't want all that work going to waste."

I frown. "But if everything was in place already, why have a social season at all? Why not just sub out Leo's name for Christian's in the contract?"

"To give Christian the illusion of choice."

My jaw drops. "You're not serious..."

"It would have been in poor taste to simply swap one prince out for another," Olivia advises. "Leo hadn't died... merely abdicated. But that decision nevertheless rocked the kingdom to its core."

"It's true," supplies Maxwell, leaning around with a mouth full of jelly worms. "The headlines were vicious."

"So..." I muse with a frown. "The Palace needed a distraction?"

"Yes," Oliva affirms seriously. "To draw attention away from Constantine's failing health."

"Wait," I cut in. "Constantine is dying?"

Olivia nods. "Prostate cancer. By all estimates, he has less than a year to live."

"Oh, my God..." I gasp, hand flying to my mouth. "No wonder Christian didn't want to talk about it..."

"The Palace is under strict instructions to keep the whole thing tightly under wraps..." she explains. "At least until after the coronation and wedding are both out of the way. They don't want the news to overshadow the first few critical months of Christian's rule."

"So, how did you find out?" I query.

She cuts her eyes over at me. "Like I said at the Masquerade Ball... Christian and I share a special connection. There are no secrets between us. Also – look at who you're talking to. I have files on each of the suitors from the social season. You seriously think I wouldn't know about something as vital to the functioning of the kingdom as the state of the King Father's health?"

"I guess not..." I concede, still trying to process this bombshell. "But how does giving Christian an illusion of a choice during the social season help cover up Constantine's cancer?"

"In the wake of Leo's abdication, support for the Rys family fell to an all-time low. The press started to question Constantine's policies, and the direction that the kingdom has been heading over the past few decades, implying that the country's current trajectory was unsustainable... and uncorrectable."

"I remember reading something about that on the flight from New York..." I recall. "There were suggestions that Leo abdicated because he didn't believe in the future of the monarchy."

"Which wasn't the case at all," she cautions. "But the Palace was worried that such intense media scrutiny would unearth evidence of Constantine's ill health... which would in turn intensify the calls from the republican factions of the country to abolish the system of hereditary rule completely. So, in a desperate bid to reunite the people behind a common cause, and shore up support for the monarchy, the Palace decided run the season again."

"But why?" I ask, still not seeing the connection.

"To charm the country with the fairytale of a royal romance," denotes Olivia sourly. "Because people apparently go ga-ga for that shite..."

Bertrand narrowly avoids choking in his seat across the aisle. "That is a crude and absolutely salacious interpretation of—!"

I whirl across the aisle. "Wait. You knew about this?"

Bertrand folds his arms across his chest. "I am a serving member of the Council. Of course I knew about the Palace's decision to run the social season again. But to suggest that it was all done simply for the sake of—"

"God, you're thick..." interjects Olivia.

Bertrand blanches. "I beg your pardon?!"

"You've been at court long enough to know that the truth is never the whole truth — there is always some hidden purpose or ulterior motive."

"But to suggest that—"

"The Palace needed a believable story — one that could capture the public's imagination — while still serving the needs of the kingdom," Olivia states. "A story of duty and love."

"Between Christian and Madeleine?" I ask sceptically. "But they don't even like each other."

"So?" scoffs Olivia. "The aim was to sell the lie to the populace. Everything else is inconsequential. And can be made to fit the narrative."

"But if you knew all this," I counter, "why did you join the competition?"

"I joined exactly because I knew the season was a sham," she replies heatedly. "To give Christian a genuine choice... not just the one that everyone else was determined to steer him towards."

"Because you love him..."

Olivia nods tightly. "Yes. And I knew it was a long shot. But even if he wouldn't end up being able to choose me — Regina would've made sure to stack the Council votes in her favour — at least I could be there to support him... as a friend."

I feel my heart go out to her, knowing from personal experience how difficult it is to be in a situation where you desperately want to be with someone, but can't because of circumstances that are outside of your control.

"But then, of course..." adds Olivia, once again with her customary breeziness, "you show up from out of nowhere with your hideous accent and relatable backstory—"

"Hey!"

"—and the whole country — Christian included — loses their collective minds. With the result that Regina's plan to make her niece Queen begins to unravel at the seams."

"Which is why she decided to set me up..." I surmise heavily as the jet levels off.

It's been fairly obvious from the start that I'm not Regina's favourite person... But the knowledge that she'd go to such lengths to publicly blacklist me? That's just inexcusable.

"You have no proof of that!" objects Bertrand, butting in again.

"Not directly, no," Olivia admits. "But all the evidence we have to date fits. The money Tariq received for his involvement came from a numbered account located in Switzerland. The blackmail letters distributed at the Coronation Ball were printed on Palace stationery. And as far as motives go, the Queen Mother would have more reason than most to influence the outcome of the social season."

"I cannot believe I am hearing this...!" decries Bertrand with a shake of his head. "The implications alone would be—"

"Ruinous to the Rys family," confirms Olivia. "I am aware. Which is why we must tread carefully in order to avoid tarring Christian with any of this. The monarchy would not survive the ensuing scandal."

"What about this other guy?" I ask. "Godfrey? How does he fit into this?"

Olivia throws her hands up. "Lord, you're more clueless than him!"

"Excuse me for not knowing every single Cordonian nobleman by name," I snark back. "I've only been a duchess for a day..."

"I'll send you my files," Olivia huffs wearily. "All two hundred of them."

My eyes widen. "There's two hundred—?"

"There's more, but those are the important ones," she replies with a dismissive wave of her hand. "And if you want to be an effective duchess, I suggest you study up because you need to have the entire contents of those dossiers memorised and ready to deploy in any given conversation."

"Sweet Jesus..." I gasp faintly, making recourse to Drake's favourite invective, as it certainly fit the magnitude of the task Olivia has just dumped on me.

"You didn't grow up in this world, so you have a lot of catching up to do," Olivia shrugs unabashedly.

"Yeah, I'm very much aware of that..." I concede dryly, rubbing my temples. "So, who is this Godfrey?"

"The Third Earl of Huntford, and Duke jure uxoris of Krona."

My brows furrow in recollection. "Krona... Does that mean he's—?"

"He's Madeleine's dad," supplies Maxwell, popping his head into the aisle again, this time in the company of a CapriSun juice pouch.

My eyes widen. "The man at the garden party! But what does he have against me? I've never even met him!"

"The fact that you are still here..." offers Olivia blandly. "Competing against his daughter for the attentions of the King."

"It's not exactly a competition," I scoff. "I'm not trying to steal him away from her."

"Except that isn't how the press is portraying it," counters Olivia pointedly, tapping the front page of the Sun.

I open my mouth again, but quickly shut it, realising that Olivia is right. As regardless of my personal reasons for being back at court — as the Royal Consort, no less! — the view from the outside presents very differently. And given that Madeleine herself clearly feels threatened by my continued presence at Christian's side, it's no small jump to imagine that her father — who, based on what I saw at the garden party a few days ago, is just as power-hungry and image-conscious as his daughter — would also feel the same.

"Crap..." I huff, falling back into my seat dejectedly.

"Not the most elegant of phrasing," muses Olivia. "But certainly succinct."

"What am I going to do?" I ask morosely, starting up at the cabin's air vents.

"Help me gather as much proof as we can during the course of the tour," Olivia instructs. "So we can narrow down our suspect list... or indict all three of them. In either case, we will be more effective if we work together."

"That plan is akin to sedition!" cries Bertrand, clearly aghast by the very suggestion. "Bordering on treason! All of us are in enough hot water already without—"

"Which is why it is imperative that no word of anything that we have just discussed leaves this aircraft," declares Olivia with a steely look. "Or I will personally hunt you down and turn your face inside out."

I gulp at the gruesomeness of that particular image. "What... What about the staff? Can you trust them?"

"They are all Lythikosians," Olivia states. "Who have sworn blood-oaths to House Nevrakis. They would never dare betray me."

"Good to know..." I admit, watching the cabin attendant re-appeared with a selection of drinks, and wondering if underneath her uniform she is as armed to the teeth as Olivia supposedly is.

"I presume the same goes for your beefcakes?" asks Olivia, nodding her chin towards the back where Allard and Schweitzer have taken up residence for the duration of the flight.

"Yes," I confirm. "I trust them with my life."

She dips her head in approval. "Good. So, as first order of business, I suggest—"

"Can we tell Hana?" interjects Maxwell, bobbing up from behind Olivia again. "She's helping us, too!"

Olivia heaves a breath. "Yes, fine. But—"

I hold up a hand. "And Drake will probably want t—"

"Yes, fine!" she snaps irately. "Anyone else? Your maternal grandmother, perhaps?"

I bite my bottom lip as I peek up at her. "Do we tell Christian?"

Olivia holds my gaze for a long moment. "No. Not until we have concrete proof. One way or another. He has enough crises to manage right now without lumbering him with a major constitutional one as well."

I nod in understanding. The mere suggestion that his godmother and future father-in-law have been conspiring to put Madeleine on the throne (potentially with his fiancée's own buy-in!) would be soul-destroying. Which is why we need to find that smoking gun — ideally several — before we present our accusations.

"Not sure if it will be of any help at all," I say, "but Ana de Luca managed dig up some information on the freelance photographer Tariq was working with on the day of the Jamboree."

"Did you bribe her with another exclusive?" chaffs Olivia dryly.

"We'll need someone to help us set the record straight," I affirm. My shoulders slump suddenly. "But I gave the flash-drive to Drake."

"Which he gave to me," smirks Olivia, pulling the device from the pocket of her jacket.

I gape at the piece of plastic in her hand. "Drake really trusts you, huh?"

"More than most," she shrugs coyly, flipping the drive over to me.

I catch it with both hands. "We should review whatever is on here. Who knows? Maybe the photographer is part of the press corps covering the tour."

"I have my laptop with me," Maxwell offers. "I was going to use it to mix some tunes, but—"

"You'll only get one chance to unravel a high-stakes aristo racket!" I quip, dangling the drive between my fingers.

"God, your incessant American optimism is stomach-turning..." Olivia groans. "And you've clearly spent too much time with Walker."

"Hey," I hit back. "This is the best lead we've gotten yet. We shouldn't discount it. This photographer could be key to linking Regina and/or Godfrey to the plot to influence the outcome of the social season."

"Assuming you can find them..." counters Olivia. "And get them to talk."

I meet her eye with a level look. "Good thing that's your area of expertise, isn't it, Duchess?"

The corner of her mouth lifts craftily.

"But what about Harper's Italian!" disparages Bertrand. "We'll be landing in less than an hour, and she still doesn't know the proper way to greet the President in his native tongue without insulting him!"

I swallow a groan. "Do I really need t—?"

"Being able to carry a conversation with the Head of State in Italian will go a long way in demonstrating to both the public and the press that you are serious about your new role as Duchess of Valtoria," he advises frankly. "And will score you some much-needed diplomatic points with our hosts as well."

"Guess we have our work cut out for us, then," I accede with a sigh. "Any chance for some coffee?"

"Turkish, Irish, or Sicilian?" asks Olivia.

"Which is closest to a latte?"

"Probably the Sicilian," she advises. "If you make it into a granita di caffe."

"I'm feeling Italian already!" I gibe in an attempt to lighten the mood a bit.

Bertrand groans loudly from his seat. "Oh, Dio..."

The story continues in Chapter 18 - Diplomatica

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