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#Olivia Drake
sentient-stove · 3 months
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“Clockwork, give me strength to break up with my boyfriend.”
“Daniel, that’s not in my wheelhouse.”
Danny shrieked at the response, clearly not expecting an answer considering he’d been standing alone in the room moments earlier. He wrenched back, door handle snapping off into his palm and then his legs caught the abandoned backpack on the floor, sending him to the ground with a thump.
Turns out, landing on a weeks worth of abandoned homework and textbooks in a cramped dorm room genuinely hurt. Danny lay there for a moment, staring at the glo in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling and wondered if he should maybe just give up for the day and crawl back into bed.
“Clockwork! Warn a dude next time!”
“Are you alright?”
“Yes! No! Yea— Can I be honest? I’m gonna be honest- I wasn’t expecting you to show up.”
“You specifically requested my help. Why are you breaking up with the Drake boy, the timelines are still intact.”
“I can’t do class, vigilante-around and date my hyperaware and paranoid boyfriend at the same time. Dating happens to be the one I can cut out. I already held a funeral for my social life.”
“A funeral for— I’m sure that there’s other solutions here.” For as confused as the ghost sounded, he sure was taking it in stride. Danny liked that about Clockwork, guy really just went with the flow and nodded along to any gossip Danny brought over. Or summoned in in this case apparently.
“Will the space time continuum collapse if I break up with Tim?”
“…No.”
“Cool, then I’m doing it. I might not even cry a little.”
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lonestarfangirl2014 · 8 months
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Dc fandom
WHERE ARE THE FLUFFY FANFICS OF THE BATKIDS INTERACTING AND MEETING THEIR NEW NIECE?
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luckydiorxoxo · 2 months
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UMG, the world’s biggest music company, says they will remove their artists’ music from TikTok this Wednesday when their contract expires after failing to reach a new agreement with the platform.
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They have failed to reach an agreement on fair compensation and AI protections.
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canthandlethishit · 4 days
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prompt: spiderman x batfam au
peter has been residing in gotham for a while now, he managed to gather up materials to make a spidersuit and started his vigilantism a couple months ago. for 3 reasons: 1. the bats try their best but with Gotham’s insane amount of crime happening at all times they’d need the aid, 2. peter missed this, he missed the drops and swings, the bubbly feeling inside every time he’d managed to help someone, 3. peter could use the extra cash from selling spiderman’s pictures to the Daily Bungle
he’d started attending Gotham’s university and got recruited into the photography club, met Tim Drake, started hanging out and discussing the angles and lighting, the art of taking action shots, the morality and legality of vigilantism—huh
Tim found out peter was the one photographing Spiderman, he thought he finally found someone like him, someone who’s invested in vigilantes and photographing (stalking) them, he’s over the moon for it, they share photography (stalking, on Tim’s part) tips
Peter thought his friend was really passionated (obsessed) with vigilantes, a fanboy, he teases Tim about it, and sputtered when Tim retaliated with his Spiderman obsession. Tim’s a Gothamite, its normal to be obsessed with the Bats.
[space for you to go with & or / with their relationship]
*the reveal*
Tim: YOU’RE SPIDERMAN????
Peter: I’m sorry I kept it from you I—
Tim: YOU’RE NOT SPIDERMAN’S STALKER??
Peter: I— wait…what?
Tim:
Peter:
Tim:
Peter: yk I thought you’d be more hung up on me being a vigilante than the pictures
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queenrileyrose · 11 days
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You Belong To Me Part One: I Wonder What’s Mine
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Book: The Royal Romance
AU: We Belong Together
Series Masterlist
Pairings: Leo x Riley (MC), Olivia x Boone (OC), Drake x Alyssa (OC)
Alyssa Devereaux belongs to @burnsoslow and is borrowed with permission for this AU.
Series Premise: Five years after the epilogue of We Belong Together, everything they thought they knew is challenged.
Series warnings: Very dark series. Character death, violence, ns*w, cursing, stalking, psychological manipulation, discussions of infertility
Chapter warnings: Language, infertility, past character death
Music Inspo: Only You-Selena Gomez
Thank you to everyone who reads, likes, comments, and/or reblogs this. I appreciate it so much. ❤️
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Riley blinked as the bright lights were switched on. She turned slightly, remembering that the beams softened her features if it wasn’t straight on.
“Nervous?” Leo slung his arm around the back of the settee protectively. 
“No,” Riley leaned back against the stiff upholstery, taking in her husband’s handsome profile. The last five years had been kind to him; the only wrinkles on his face were laugh lines. Time had moved fast and, at the same time, seemed much longer; Riley could hardly remember a time when she didn’t know Leo. 
“Liar,” Leo teased. “It’ll be over fast. We only do one in-depth interview a year-”
“And we trust Donnie,” Riley finished, nervously smoothing down the cerulean silk of her skirt. “This year’s timing isn’t great; we had to keep rescheduling.”
Leo took her hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. 
It was the anniversary of that fateful night Aiden had kidnapped Riley and Olivia. While Riley felt no more guilt over her actions, the memory refused to leave her. 
Even now, she swore there was a hint of copper in the air, burning her nostrils. 
“We can have lunch after,” Leo’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Enz has lessons until three.”
“That sounds nice,” a genuine smile lit Riley’s face. “I’m sorry I’m being difficult; today feels worse than usual. I’m nervous about, you know.”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Leo slipped his fingers under her chin, tilting her face up. He brushed a blonde curl behind her ear. “You’re the strongest, most badass woman I know. You are allowed to feel however you need to about today. I love you.”
“I love you,” Riley pressed her lips to Leo’s, a thrill going through her as his tongue curled with hers. 
Donnie cleared his throat as he softly closed the door behind him. Leo smiled against Riley’s lips before reluctantly ending the kiss.
Donnie settled into the chair across from the couple, a few sheets of paper in his hands. “Good morning, your Maj-”
“Donnie,” Riley began.
“Leo and Riley,” Donnie corrected. “Let me make sure I have the off-limits subjects right.”
The couple nodded in unison, giving Donnie a moment. One particular issue had made it to the short list this year.
“The subject of more heirs?” Donnie looked up, his brow furrowed. “I’ve never asked.”
“We know,” Riley said quickly. “Just in case. It’s not something we feel is the public’s business.”
Leo’s hand found hers, and she clutched his fingers. 
Riley couldn’t address why there weren’t more heirs when she didn’t know herself. Leo and Riley had gone through all the tests and exams, and they were both healthy. She should have been able to get pregnant several times over. 
Riley hadn’t. In the last year, she’d given up hope. They’d seen specialist after specialist, and no one could explain why. 
Leo gripped her hand. Riley squeezed back gratefully. Their little family was all she and Leo needed. It would just be the three of them. 
“Understood,” Donnie folded the pages and set them in his lap. “Are you sure about the topic? Aiden has been off limits the past four years.”
Riley and Leo nodded, each pushing their shoulders back. It was time. 
“3, 2, 1,” a producer whispered beyond the camera. Donnie crossed one leg over the other and smiled warmly at the couple.
“As a country, we have all moved on from the reign of Aiden,” Donnie began, his voice encouraging. “On the fifth anniversary of his death, you both mentioned that you found it important to cover again. May I ask why?”
Leo spoke first, massaging Riley’s knuckles with the pad of his thumb. “Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it. As much as we would like to, we can’t forget that Aiden rose to power in part because of my father and in part because he bred a fear that most people refused to or were unable to fight against.”
Riley nodded in agreement. “There were many close to him that could have stopped him and simply did not. That’s why we’ve been so transparent with every decision made, why we’ve taken certain powers away from duchies and put it in the hands of the council and the people.”
“Cordonia is thriving,” Donnie checked his notes. “Poverty rates are at an all-time low, due to the assistance programs you’ve instituted. As are violence rates, no doubt because of the focus on rehabilitation and harsh sentencing for repeat offenders you’ve put in place. We are also second to France in wine exports, no doubt from the investment in small wineries all over the country.”
“But,” Leo joked. “I feel it coming, Donnie.”
“But,” Donnie offered a half smile. “I would like to ask how you and Queen Riley have dealt with the events of five years ago. On a personal level.”
Leo glanced at Riley, who nodded subtly. They’d agreed to this, but Leo wanted her to have the option of backing out if she needed to.
“Well,” Riley’s lips shook slightly as she spoke. “Therapy has been useful.”
“There was a rumor you burned sage,” Donnie raised an eyebrow.
“My stance is,” Leo slid closer to Riley. “Whatever someone needs to do to help them cope is valid.”
“Did it help?” Donnie asked.
———
Six months after Aiden’s death
Riley walked through the gardens at the palace. Riley read that sage helped cleanse evil spirits, and she was dutifully waving a bundle of the herb, lit at one end, careful not to set any plants on fire.
She felt stronger every day, and this, as silly as it seemed, helped.
Riley lowered carefully to sit on the bench. She remembered Aiden there, a tear falling down his cheek as he talked about his mother. Had he really been so evil? He could have missed his mother and still been the horrible man she’d killed. 
Riley shook her head. It didn’t matter. A breeze floated across her face, and she closed her eyes and breathed in the sweet smell of roses. 
As she opened her eyes, another smell hit her nostrils. A familiar smell. 
Tobacco, ginger, and vanilla. The expensive cologne Aiden wore. Riley rubbed her nose. No. She shouldn’t be out here.
She stood and made her way to the entrance, the smell seeming to follow her.
Riley was so intent on leaving the hedge maze, that she didn’t see Leo approaching from the side entrance.
Riley walked right into his solid chest, panicking for a minute until she looked up into the handsome face of her boyfriend. 
“Hey,” Leo said softly, gently holding her by the shoulders to steady her before enclosing her in a hug. “You look spooked.”
Riley sniffed again, but it was all cedar and lemons. Leo. “I swore I could smell Aiden’s cologne.”
“Are you sure?” Leo glanced around worriedly. “Is someone out there?”
“No, I was remembering being in there with him just before.” Riley felt better already, just from Leo’s presence. “It’s probably my brain.”
“Okay.” Leo inhaled deeply, only smelling the roses. “That’s why I started the other rose garden. Eleanor deserves this one, but you can have your own.”
“I won’t come out here for a while,” Riley promised. “Let’s go inside.”
Riley melted into the tender kiss Leo pressed to her lips and followed him in. She trailed the sage behind her, the smoke hopefully doing its job.
———
“I felt better,” Riley laughed softly. 
“What about you, King Leo?” Donnie turned slightly in his chair. “It could be argued that you suffered the most at Aiden’s hands.”
“It’s not a contest,” Leo replied. “Certainly not one I want to win, either way. The answer is Riley. She’s gotten me through every rough patch the past five years. I’ve done my best to be her safe place, her partner.”
“You’ve more than done your best,” Riley grinned for the first time that day. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Lucky for you,” Leo swiveled slightly, brushing his nose against hers. “You’ll never have to find out.”
———
Two Years after Aiden’s death 
Riley sat up in bed, feeling eyes on her. She quickly flicked the bedside light on. No one was there. 
Leo squinted as he reached for her. “Riley?”
“I must have had a bad dream.” Riley exhaled and lay back down, Leo’s arms around her. “I felt like someone was watching me.”
Leo opened his eyes fully and glanced around the room. “No one is here. We’re the only ones with keys to our quarters. The keypad will be up next week; only we’ll have the code. The panic buttons are going in every room. You’re safe, honey.”
Leo reached over her to switch off the light. Riley snuggled into his arms, feeling a little better. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Leo left tender kisses on her forehead and cheeks. “You’ve been edgy lately.”
“I feel scared here sometimes, around the anniversary of…you know,” Riley pressed her lips to Leo’s. “It's not rational, but it takes a few days to shake.”
“Enzo’s coronation today made you all emo,” Leo said as their lips met again. “Heavy emotional stuff makes you scared sometimes.”
“I was all emo because I watched you and Enzo, and I realized you’d probably thought it would never happen..after all that.” Riley sniffed, tears forming. “You were so happy and proud.”
“Riley, honey.” Leo soothed. “Every day with you and E, it’s more than I ever thought I’d have. I’m so fucking grateful for you, and our son, our life.”
Tears ran down Riley’s cheeks as she hugged Leo fiercely. Leo stroked her hair. “Us together, no matter what. That’s all I ever want.”
“Me too,” Riley said into Leo’s chest. “You’re right, though. We have it so good. Everything keeps getting better. What if I wake up in the dungeon and all this is a dream?”
Leo pinched her arm gently.
“Ow.” Riley lifted her head. “What the fuck, man?”
“You’re still here.” Leo smiled. “There’s no dungeon. You helped take it down.”
Riley pinched his arm. Leo shook his head in amusement.
“You’re still here.” Riley nuzzled Leo’s nose. “I feel better. Thank you.”
“You’ll feel even better after the bonfire tomorrow night.” Leo joked. “Hot dogs and friends.”
“Lyss will hold Enzo a bunch; give my arms a break.” Riley grinned. “Can she be pregnant already?”
“I’m sure Drake is working on that.” Leo kissed her nose. “I love you, Riley.” 
“I love you.” Riley rolled on top of Leo. “No more pinching.”
Leo slipped his hands under Riley’s nightgown, his fingers leaving teasing trails as he traveled down her body, settling on her hips. “Your wish is my command.”
“My wish is for those gorgeous hands to move a little lower,” Riley murmured into her husband's ear. 
Leo grinned and obeyed.
———
“We had friends and family nearby for the first few years as well,” Riley forced herself to face Donnie. “That meant more than I can ever express.”
“I, for one, was surprised when Mr. Walker and his family moved to the States,” Donnie frowned slightly. “His business was thriving, his wife was beloved.”
“Drake got the chance to add to the New York skyline,” Leo smiled proudly. “Alyssa found a position in the governor's office to make a difference in public schools in the city. I’m honored to know them.”
“We miss them terribly, of course,” Riley added. “Along with Patrick and Audrey. But they’re doing well in New York, and I’m so proud of them.”
Donnie nodded sympathetically. “Are they returning in the near future?”
———
Three years after Aiden’s death 
Riley walked down the aisle of the bait shop. She wrinkled her nose at the wormy smell, but she’d jumped at the chance to go fishing. Drake and Alyssa were due to leave in a few days for New York. 
They promised to return in a few years. Riley was thrilled for them, but the sting at her found family leaving remained.
A man bumped into Riley. “Sorry, alluring lotus.”
Riley froze, then grabbed the man’s arm. “What did you say?”
“Sorry, I lost my balance.” The man looked at her apologetically. “Queen Riley! I’m so sorry.”
“No title, please,” Riley released his arm. “I’m sorry too, you startled me.”
“Everything okay?” Drake's voice made her jump. When she turned back around, the man was gone. 
“Riley? You look like you saw a ghost.” Drake took her hand and covered it with his.
“I thought that man said something weird.” Riley looked up into Drake’s concerned expression. “Do you ever see Aiden? Or think you hear him?”
“I think I see him sometimes,” Drake admitted, patting her hand. “I think it’d be impossible to forget him completely. Especially for you.”
“It’s only around the anniversary.” Riley smiled gratefully at Drake. “I get jumpy.”
“Maybe you need to talk to the therapist again.” Drake soothed. “Do you talk to Leo?”
“Maybe.” Riley nodded. “I do, Leo calms me down. I saw Aiden die. You’d think I wouldn't get so freaked.”
“What did you think he said?”
“Alluring lotus.”
Drake did not suppress the shudder that ran through him at the mention of one of Aiden’s special terms for Riley. “I told you reading that nickname book the cops found was a bad idea.”
“He’d called me almost every name,” Riley admitted. “It was weird seeing them all in one place.”
“Tell me he never called you his own Regina.” Drake had the names almost memorized. “Or fountain pen.”
“The Regina one, no.” Riley stuck her tongue out. “The other one was the last thing he called me.”
“Fuck.” Drake pulled Riley into a hug. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” Riley squeezed Drake back. “But hey, it got me to all of you. Right?”
“Right.” Drake agreed, releasing her. “Let’s go catch some fish.”
———
“We hope so,” Leo smiled, exchanging a look with Riley. Drake and Alyssa were moving back in a year’s time, after some opportunity the couple hadn’t given all the details of to Leo or Riley.
“They are missed,” Donnie agreed before changing the subject. “Forgive me, I don’t know how to phrase this delicately.”
“Go ahead,” Riley encouraged.
“You live in the palace where you faced the worst times of your life,” Donnie tried to sound as sympathetic as he could. “You’re raising a family there. I don’t know if I would have the strength to do that.”
“It was hard for a while,” Riley admitted. “You mentioned the sage earlier. I was on edge a lot.”
“What changed?” Donnie frowned. 
———
Four years after Aiden’s death 
Riley rolled over and stared at the clock. 3 am. She slipped out of bed, Leo’s soft snores filling the room. She’d been staring at the ceiling for the past several hours, unable to sleep.
There were always creaks and moans all over the palace. Riley knew this was normal, especially with old buildings. They cooled at night, making sounds and scaring people. It was always like this; most nights, she was able to let them fade into the background.
Tonight, no such luck. Riley growled in frustration. She knew she’d done the right thing. All year, she was fine. She was so happy; she had so much in her life. 
The week Aiden died rolled around, and everything made her jump. She’d made sure he was dead. The day they rented a boat and dumped him at sea, she was there. Aiden wasn’t coming back. Everyone was safe. 
Riley felt a little better but was still too alert to sleep.
Riley tiptoed to Enzo’s room, smiling at her son. He was starfished across his bed. The blue light of his twilight turtle lamp cast a soothing blue glow. 
Riley padded downstairs to the kitchen. 
Riley stared at the roast duck in the refrigerator. Of all the things she expected to see, that wasn’t it.
Riley was looking over the other items when a hand on her shoulder made her whirl around, a bottle of ketchup in hand.
Leo put his hands up. “Whoa.”
Riley exhaled and put the bottle down. “Don’t sneak up on me! I could have killed you!”
“With ketchup?” Leo fought not to grin.
“Yes.” Riley set it down. “Why’s there a fucking duck in the fridge?”
“Say that five times fast.” Leo looked around her. “Shit. I don’t know. Lisette definitely didn’t make it.”
“Unless Enzo wanted it,” Riley tapped her lips with one finger. “We’re weird about duck, maybe he got curious?”
“That would make a lot of sense,” Leo chuckled. “We can ask in the morning.”
Riley slumped against the counter, relieved for the moment.
“Can’t sleep again?” Leo studied his wife. Her eyes were tired.
“No,” Riley yawned, hoping sleep wasn’t as far away as it seemed earlier. “Too many creaks.”
“We can move, baby.” Leo enclosed her palm in his. “We can turn this place into something else. Live in another place. There’s plenty of properties.”
“You grew up here,” Riley argued. “It’s all Enzo has known. I don’t want… dude’s name who rhymes with Crayden to win.”
Leo chuckled. “That isn’t a word. But he’s dead. He can’t win.”
“Do you get scared here ever?” Riley traced Leo’s knuckles with her finger.
“No,” Leo said. “But him dying meant something different to me than you. He’d been a constant evil presence; then he was gone. I felt relief.”
“I don’t know if I did,” Riley frowned. “I felt glad that he couldn’t hurt anyone else; that’s close, right?”
“Right,” Leo smiled softly. “When the day I abdicated rolls around, I get angry. I wish I’d fought harder; maybe I could have stopped more of what he did.”
“You and I both know that’s not true,” Riley pressed her lips to his gently. “You did the best you could. If you’d done too much, Aiden would have done something worse.”
“It’s a process,” Leo grimaced. “But I understand, feeling like he might pop out. But he won’t. He can’t.”
“I know,” Riley sighed. “I was telling myself that, but then I was too awake.”
Leo laughed. “What about moving? We can do whatever seems like a good plan.”
“I don’t know.” Riley bit her lip. “It doesn’t feel right.”
“Living here or leaving?”
“Yes.”
Leo laughed. “Riley.”
“Let’s talk about it more.” Riley decided. “Look at other places. Figure it out.”
“Sounds good.” Leo smiled. “Why are you in here?”
“Lisette made me cupcakes.” Riley beamed. “I wanted them.”
“What flavor?”
“Lemon strawberry.” 
“Our wedding cake.” Leo dropped a kiss on her lips. “Grab ‘em. We can eat them in bed.”
———
“I think it’s important to remember that Aiden dying freed me,” Leo interjected. “Riley’s actions were to save her own life and that of Duchess Nevrakis.”
Riley smiled gratefully. “I finally got to a place where I refused to let Aiden take anything else from me. That’s another reason we thought it was vital to speak about him today, to show that you can overcome trauma and be happy.”
“That’s good to hear,” Donnie uncrossed and recrossed his ankles. “I understand that you found another woman, one the public wasn’t aware of, just months ago?”
Riley nodded somberly. “It turns out Aiden had an online dating profile-”
“Cut!” Donnie yelled before she could finish. He doubled over with laughter, his notes falling to the floor. “You’re…kidding.”
Riley couldn’t help but giggle. “That was my first reaction, too. Leo was more disgusted.”
“It came out of left field,” Leo chuckled. “I wonder what got into him. That seemed beneath him or something.”
“I think he was desperate,” Riley offered. “The thing about Aiden is that deep down, he wanted to be loved. For the monster he was.”
The room went silent. Donnie wiped his eyes and nodded. “That makes sense. Can we leave the dating profile out? I don’t want to humanize him.”
“I completely understand,” Leo agreed. 
Riley smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“No, no,” Donnie waved her off. “One of the things I admire about you is how caring you are. You always try to find common ground with everyone, no matter what. We could all stand to be that way a bit more.”
Leo brushed a lock of hair behind Riley’s ear. “I’ve never known anyone as compassionate as Riley.”
“You’re going to feed my ego way too much,” Riley’s cheeks darkened. “Okay, no dating profile. Focus on Abbi Lawson.”
Donnie gestured to the cameraman. “Count it down, please.”
———
Drake gazed out the window at the sparkling blue sea and the idyllic buildings along the coastline. His attention snapped to the large tower above everything else on the hill. 
It had been several years since he had been to his birthplace, but he found himself smiling. Despite the circumstances surrounding the impromptu trip, it was good to be back.
“Have you been to Cordonia before?” the raspy voice of an older woman somewhere behind him interrupted his thoughts. 
“Not for many years,” her seatmate all but whispered. 
The hairs stood up on Drake’s neck. He subtly tried to turn to see the speaker, but from his vantage point, he could only see the couple just behind him.
Drake leaned back, forcing himself to inhale and exhale deeply. His wife would reassure him if she were with him, reminding him that the man was dead. He’d seen the body. They were safe.
Drake unlocked his phone and tapped on his photo album, smiling at the most recent photo. Audrey had snapped the picture as Drake and Alyssa kissed this past New Year’s Eve.
Alyssa was in Thailand, in a remote village, teaching children to read. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and Audrey and Patrick had already joined their mother. Drake was going straight from Cordonia to be with them for the year-long trip. 
Cell service wasn’t great, but they spoke twice daily. Drake told his wife it reminded him of their courtship. Alyssa had gotten choked up and told him to hurry up and get there.
———
Drake stepped into the large room, sighing in relief at the air conditioning cooling him. He began to walk toward the exit, stopping in his tracks when a familiar figure stepped into his path. 
Olivia lifted her chin, smirking at Drake’s surprise. She looked the same as the last time he’d seen her last year in New York. A pair of red slacks topped by a matching leather jacket hugged her frame, her red hair pulled into a sleek bun atop her head. Even with her low-heeled boots, she was only a few inches shorter than Drake.
“I didn’t tell anyone,” Drake blurted, more shocked than he probably should be at Olivia’s presence. “I was going to fix the step at our place for the renters and hire a new property manager. And shock you all.”
Olivia’s smirk grew. “Did you really think you could get anything past me?”
Drake shook his head and wrapped Olivia in a bear hug. She patted his back, stepping away after precisely five seconds. “That’s enough. Your truck is in the lot.”
“Wow,” Drake's eyes widened. “That’s so thoughtful. What are you up to?”
“Nothing,” Olivia aimed a punch at Drake's shoulder. “I’m a good friend.”
———
Enzo pushed off the wall with his foot, gaining speed as the skateboard raced toward a ramp. 
Riley held her breath, twisting her fingers so tightly her nails pressed into her skin. Leo untangled her hands and interlaced his fingers with hers. Riley squeezed his hand, her eyes never leaving Enzo as he flew over the ramp, landing on the concrete as if he had been doing this for years, not just a few weeks.
Riley exhaled as Leo whooped beside her. “That was awesome, Enz!”
Enzo picked up his board and rushed to his parents. “Did you see, Mom?”
“I did,” Riley tousled her son's hair. “I’m so proud of you. I could never do that.”
“I bet you could,” Enzo beamed up at his mother. “It’s fun!”
“It definitely looks it,” Riley leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. 
Leo fistbumped Enzo. “You’re a natural.”
“Thanks!” Enzo set the skateboard down on the concrete. He began leisurely skating toward the side entrance. “I’m going to get a snack.”
“Brin has those pizza croissants you love,” Riley called after him. Enzo waved and disappeared inside.
Riley collapsed onto the bench, her hand on her heart. “How can you go to all his lessons with him? I’d have a heart attack!”
Leo chuckled as he sat beside Riley, smoothing a curly blonde strand behind her ear. “I remember that at his age, I was scaling the palace walls and trying to sneak off to fly helicopters.”
Riley shook her head with a laugh. “Suddenly, skateboarding seems completely safe.”
Leo pulled Riley into his lap, trailing kisses down her jaw. He wrapped her tightly in his arms, weighing the words before he said them aloud. “How are you? You seem better than earlier.”
Riley rested her head against Leo’s neck, nestling into his warmth. “Talking about him helped. I was worried; I thought maybe it would weigh on me after. It felt good.”
Leo exhaled, relieved. He’d had the same worry, but followed Riley’s lead. It didn’t bother him to speak about Aiden; he and Boone went over his brother’s tactics often in order to prepare the guards, but Riley struggled. 
“I’m glad,” Leo pressed a kiss to her temple. “You did awesome as usual.”
“So did you,” Riley lifted her head and rose, pulling Leo with her. “Liv and Boone should be here for dinner soon, and you have a call with Hakim.”
“No Wyatt yet?”
“Still in Paris with my mom for another few days,” Riley scrunched her nose. “I know that’s her home and all, but I wish she’d move back.”
Christine had recently returned to Paris, having lived with her daughter and son-in-law for nearly four years. She needed her own space again, and while Riley and Leo understood, the palace wasn’t the same without her. 
“I miss her too,” Leo led Riley to the side entrance. “She’s the only one who could beat me at poker.”
“She said she’s going to visit in a few months,” Riley fell into step with Leo as they walked down the hallway, fingers entwined. 
Leo spun Riley, backing her into the wall beside his office. “I love you so much.”
Riley sank into Leo as his lips met hers in a heated kiss. “I love you, too.”
Leo unlocked the door and pulled Riley inside, slamming it behind them.
———
Drake pulled the knob, ensuring the door was locked before taking the stairs two at a time. “That definitely wasn’t as bad as the property manager made it sound.”
“I knew he was overreacting,” Olivia studied the exterior of the large home. “You should have fired him sooner. The roof may need some work soon.”
“I noticed,” Drake swung open the door of his old pickup, and Olivia climbed into the passenger seat. “I’ll fix the step in the morning. I came all the way out here, might as well.”
Olivia huffed. “I can’t imagine Alyssa was thrilled about you making such a long trip for a broken step.”
“She didn’t mind,” Drake insisted. “I have to hire a new property manager anyway; best to do everything in person.”
Olivia harrumphed in agreement. 
Drake slowed as he approached a curve, the memory of driving to Lythikos with Leo during the season flitting through his head. It was strange what being here brought up. In the years he and Alyssa made a home and started a family here, Drake had the occasional memory, generally a happy one. 
“Drake?” Olivia’s sharp voice brought Drake back to the present. “What’s wrong?”
“Sorry, Liv,” Drake exhaled sharply. “I had a weird deja vu memory thing about the season. It threw me off for a second.”
“No use dwelling,” Olivia replied. “We got through it. We eat hot dogs near the ocean every year on the anniversary.”
“I know,” Drake slowed to a stop at the palace gates. “Enough about that. Do Leo and Riley know I’m here?”
“Of course not,” Olivia smirked. “What’s the fun in that?”
———
Boone shoved his hands in his pockets, eyeing the portraits on the massive gallery wall. While Constantine and Aiden’s had been removed, the portraits of Leo and Riley gave him the creeps. They were well done, but Boone couldn’t help but feel their eyes following him. 
“You’re here before Olivia?” His older sister’s incredulous voice echoed down the hallway as she approached. 
“She’s on her way,” Boone took one last look at the paintings and whirled to face Riley. “She had an errand. Where’s Leo? Enzo?”
“In a meeting and having dinner with Max and company,” Riley rubbed her hands together. “No one to protect you now, Boonie. Time for me to get my revenge for the time you put my Barbie in the garbage disposal.”
Boone rolled his eyes. He and Riley had a good relationship; they fought like all siblings at times. But Riley got in moods where all she did was try to prank him or challenge him to some kind of duel. Leo and Olivia usually stepped in and kept the peace.
“I was 8,” Boone sighed. “Give it a-”
Before he could finish, Riley jumped on his back, twisting when he tried to pull her off. “Nope!”
———
Drake slammed the car door. “Place looks the same.”
Olivia shook her head as she strode toward the entrance. “Of course it does. It hasn’t been that long.”
As they walked into the large foyer, Leo was taking the stairs two at a time. “Hey, Liv, who’s-”
As Leo realized it was Drake, he nearly tripped. He got his bearings and jumped off the last few steps, crushing Drake in a hug. “When did you get here?”
“Few hours ago,” Drake returned the embrace, clapping Leo on the back. “I have a stair to fix and a property owner to hire. I’m back out the day after tomorrow.”
“Where’s Lyssa?” Leo glanced behind Olivia. 
“She’s in Thailand getting settled,” Drake smiled a little sadly. “She’d have loved to be here.”
“Thailand?” Leo’s eyebrows shot up.
“No snow there,” Olivia shrugged. “A few remote areas need teachers. Seemed right up Alyssa’s alley.”
“Of course you knew,” Drake held his palms up in surrender. “We didn’t want to say anything until everything was finalized.”
“We’ll have to come out and see you all,” Leo playfully punched Drake’s arm. “Riley will be all over that.”
“I’m starving,” Olivia announced. “Can we do the gooey catchup over food?”
Leo chuckled and draped an arm around Olivia’s shoulders as they walked down the hall. “You can just say you miss Boone. I’m sure Riley is keeping-“
“Dammit!” The loud cry drowned out Leo’s words. “Riley!”
“Is that Boone?” Drake whispered. “What’s going on?”
“Oh,” Olivia sighed. “Riley’s making him pay for something, I assume. Again.”
Drake's eyes widened as Riley came into view. She had her younger brother in a headlock. As she heard footsteps, she quickly released him, smoothing her blouse. “Oh, you two are early.”
Riley let out a screech as she noticed Drake between Leo and Olivia. “Drake!” Riley ran to him, throwing her arms around his torso. “What are you doing here? How long are you staying? Where’s Alyssa?”
Drake began to fill Riley in, and Olivia patted Boone’s head. “How’d she get the drop on you?”
Boone stretched his neck from one side to the other. “Surprise, as usual.”
“That’s my wife,” Leo grinned. “Maybe you should train more, Boone.”
“Maybe Riley should go back to therapy and discover why she’s still torturing her brother, Leo.” Boone dropped a kiss on Olivia’s forehead. 
“I already know,” Riley piped up. “Lost time. I never got closure.”
“People ask how we didn’t speak for a few years,” Boone couldn’t hide his smile. “I just don’t know what to tell them.”
Riley scratched her nose, pointing her middle finger in Boone’s direction. Boone smoothed his hair back, aiming the same finger back at Riley.
“Drake,” Lisette called down the hallway as she came into view. “We’re having short ribs for dinner; it’s as if I knew you’d be here.”
“My favorite,” Drake grinned and wrapped Lysette in a quick hug. “I thought you moved to the non-profit full-time?”
“I did,” Lisette smiled and grabbed Riley’s hand. “I pop by whenever, make my replacement nervous.”
“Brin loves you,” Riley squeezed Lisette’s hand, dropping her voice to a whisper. “But you’re still better.”
Leo chuckled and slipped an arm around Riley’s waist. “Full house tonight, I love it.”
———
Riley glanced around the long cedar plank table. They’d burned the mahogany monstrosity that previously occupied the dining room, opting for a smaller setting. It felt like home, finally. Riley felt safe and cozy here, with all her family and friends.
Leo winked at her from across the table, and she returned the gesture.
The only thing that troubled the queen was one day telling Enzo about his father’s half-brother. He was young still, but needed to be told before he found out on his own. 
“Riley?” Drake’s voice quieted her thoughts. “You okay?”
“I’m great,” Riley grinned. 
———
Leo stoked the fire, settling into an iron chair beside his wife. “I miss this, all of us around the fire.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Nostalgia is a sickness, Leo.”
“So is pretending to be a hard ass,” Leo challenged with a grin. 
Riley stared at the hedge maze, lit by the full moon. They'd used to play tag with Enzo when he was smaller, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d wandered around the paths.
Drake followed Riley’s gaze. She seemed different than the last time he’d seen her almost a year ago. She was her same soft yet confident self, but she seemed stronger. 
“Where did Boone disappear to?” Drake glanced around. “I thought he came out when we did.”
“Nope,” Riley shook her head, her face clearing. “He drove Lisette home and is getting Enzo from Maxwell’s. It’s hard to believe he has three children now.”
“It is,” Drake agreed. They’d attended Maxwell and Hana’s wedding, and the two hadn’t wasted any time starting a family. Their oldest son, Sebastian, was a little less than a year younger than Enzo, and the two were good friends. 
Riley rose, balling the blanket in her lap and tossing it in her chair. “I’m going to take a walk.”
“Want company?” Leo got to his feet and enclosed her in his arms. 
“Maybe in a few minutes,” Riley wrapped her arms around her husband. “I need to walk around a bit by myself. You know.”
“I do,” Leo nodded and brushed his lips against her forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Riley smiled into the kiss Leo pressed to her lips. 
Riley waved at Drake and Olivia as she made her way to the maze, disappearing behind a tall hedge.
“Is she all right?” Olivia asked quietly, concern lacing her words. 
“She’s more than all right,” Leo grinned. “She really turned a corner today.”
“The interview?” Olivia gently touched Leo’s arm before withdrawing her hand. “I saw. Good for her.”
Leo nodded, taking a long sip of his scotch. 
———
Riley meandered down the stone path, stepping off into the grass.
Riley breathed in deeply as she walked deeper into the maze, the scent of roses filling her nostrils. Little by little, this had become one of her favorite places at the palace. Leo and Enzo replaced her old memories with happier ones. If she needed to think or be on her own for a minute, she came here.
Riley lowered to the ground, stretching her legs and leaning back on her forearms to stare at the sky. The stars shone brightly, and she couldn’t help but smile. 
A twig snapped, and Riley froze. She listened for footsteps or any indication another person was around. The sound had been from far away; she’d barely heard it.
Riley reminded herself she was safe. The palace was well protected. Guards were everywhere. But as she sat in the silence, she couldn’t help but feel as though she was being watched. 
Riley got to her feet and began walking in the direction of the entrance. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. 
A familiar scent, not the roses or the salt from the sea, set off more alarm bells in her head. Spicy, with notes of vanilla, tobacco, and ginger.
“No,” Riley whispered. She willed her legs to go faster, for the smell to dissipate, but the cologne lingered. 
Another twig snapped, this one much closer. “Come on,” Riley scolded herself, but not slowing her gait. “Stop making something out of nothing. Okay, brain?”
As Riley rounded the corner, the entrance in sight, a shadow fell across her path. She froze, the person’s stance so familiar.
“I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to frighten you,” the man’s perfect grin shone in the moonlight. “I’m surprised that the secret passage hasn't been patched.”
Riley’s head slowly tilted up, her wide, shocked eyes meeting the man’s. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
He had a short beard; his hair curled around his ears. He was tan, and a little grimy. Riley blinked rapidly, but he didn’t disappear. 
“I’m sorry,” the man repeated, shifting the khaki rucksack slung over one shoulder. “Where are my manners? We haven’t met before, have we? I’ve been gone several years, not my choice if I’m being honest, but I’m sure I’d remember you.”
Riley felt strangely calm. She wasn’t sure if it was shock or the rare thought that whispered through her head that he wasn’t really gone had prepared her for precisely this moment. “How … how did you get here?”
“Boat, train, then plane. I’m Aiden,” Aiden said slowly. “Prince Aiden.”
Riley’s knees began to buckle. She felt the edges of the small panic button she always carried in her pocket, grateful Leo had insisted on them when they wired the palace for alarms. She managed to press it; her vision began to darken as she tried to force herself to remain upright. The last thing she saw was Aiden’s confused expression, his piercing blue eyes reflecting the bright moonlight. 
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Leo x Riley: @mywildheartremains
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lizzybeth1986 · 4 months
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TRR's Alternative LIs: The "Romances" that Didn't Happen
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A complaint that often emerges from readers about the TRH series, is the amount of time that LIs who are not married to the MC spend hovering around her. They seem to be ever-present, ever- ready to do her bidding, give her attention, and shower her with praise. They hardly seem to spend much time at their own homes, don't date, and haven't settled with anyone in the five year-timeline of the series.
"It's almost as if they have no life of their own!" we complain.
Yet this wasn't always the case. TRR was in fact one of the rare Choices series' that had intended - at different points in the first 3 books - for an alternative romance for each of the LIs. So what happened? Why did these attempts fail?
It is easy to assume that the answer would be the same for every alternative pairing - the "crazy stans" threw a tantrum, and the writers backtracked. But one has to only look at the trajectory of each pairing to realize that this reading doesn't apply equally to all of them.
Many factors played into why the writers did a full about-turn and left all their LIs single. Some related to the writers' attitudes towards an LI, some related to how they felt about the side characters they paired the LIs with. And often, the fan response to each fed into those biases and opinions. This essay is an attempt to explore these factors and give as full a picture as I can manage, to answer the question of "why did these pairings not happen?". I hope I can succeed in that.
I will be tagging all those who had responded to the previous feeler post on this or showed interest earlier, but if you see this and would like to be tagged in this series, do let me know!
Intro: A Brief History of Alternative Romances in Choices
Liam and Olivia: When You Prefer the Side Character to the Main
Maxwell and Penelope: When You Like the Side Character So Much, You Gift Her a Shiny New LI
Hana and Madeleine: When You Reward Your Favourite Bully with One of Her Victims
Drake and Kiara: When You're Fucking Racist
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karahalloway · 3 months
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(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 16 - Snakes in the Garden
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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 greets the world as the new Duchess of Valtoria, but that is not the only newsworthy item that rocks the Apple Harvest Festival...
Word Count: 7,300
Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, angst, possible ulterior motives)
Chapter theme song:
A/N1: Things are slowly coming to a head! Thanks for bearing with me on this series - I know I have a lot of other projects in the works, so I have not been updating as much as I probably should. But, we are finally getting to the exciting parts (as if what's happened until now hasn't been exciting 🤣) as after this chapter, we are into the meat of the engagement tour, and all the juicy plot changes that I have been wanting to write for over a year will finally come to a fore! *evil laugh*
A/N2: If you have not heard of TURN - the TV show from which I borrowed the chapter theme song - then, I can highly recommend it (especially if you like historical dramas, US history (specifically the Revolutionary War period), or just really good story-telling)!
A/N3: This is also much submission for @choicesjanuary2024 Day 12: Smiles / Secret
Chapter 16 - Snakes in the Garden
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"Are you sure I look okay?" I ask, nervously pulling at the high-necked strip of emerald lace that circles my throat.
"Stop fiddling!" Bertrand berates, slapping my hand away. "We are running late as it, and we cannot afford to lose any more time to last minute touch-ups!"
"Yeah, but—"
"You look great, Harper," Maxwell assures me with a beaming smile. "Marcie did a great job."
The petite make-up artist that the Beaumonts had procured out of thin air bobs a curtsy to my right. "It was my pleasure, Your Grace."
Her words hit me like a whiplash.
Your Grace.
My new form of address. One I'm not sure I'm ever going to get used to. Lady Harper had been one thing, but that had always felt like a curtesy. A temporary formality that had been extended to me by virtue of my sponsorship by the Beaumonts during the social season.
But there is nothing temporary about my current situation. The weight of the ring on my hand — and its implications — bears down heavily on my finger... and my thoughts. Especially since I still haven't found a moment alone with Drake to finish our conversation from this morning... or bring him up to speed on my new status.
Because no sooner had my ennoblement been sealed with the very expensive — and very potent — champagne, than the Beaumonts had shown back up (somewhat mercifully) to crash Christian's surprise party.
And from there it had been a whirlwind of hair, makeup and outfitting for the all-important Apple Harvest Festival where I am due to make my grand debut as the new Duchess of Valtoria.
A position of some importance — Bertrand has stressed, multiple times — given that in addition to the impressive estate that I am now the official caretaker of, I also have a seat on the infamous Council, as well as a seat on the even more exclusive Privy Council. Not to mention my own fleet of staff, vehicles, bank accounts, and carefully curated online profiles.
Which is why — on top of everything — the ever-industrious press corps have worked at record speed to throw the fruits of yesterday's labours together into an exclusive, twelve-page spread as part of a special edition of Trend magazine, which dropped this morning.
And while I haven't actually had a chance to read through the copy that currently sits on the coffee table of my room (together with every other major national and international news publication), Maxwell has assured me that the social media reactions have — so far — been positive. The snaps of my stress-fuelled efforts at yesterday's apple pick have apparently helped.
Which means that Jonathan's PR gamble is starting to pay dividends, and I now have a public image to maintain. Not just for myself, but for Cordonia as well. Because when I step outside today, I'll be representing everything that the kingdom under Christian's burgeoning rule is striving to be — beauty, modernity, opportunity.
Definitely not the best day to wake up with a litany of awkwardly situated bruises!
Thankfully, both Maxwell and Bertrand seem to have had a chance to pull themselves together after this morning's surprising (and definitely explosive!) turn of events, and — after the initial shock — have set about covering for mine and Drake's mess with the same coordinated precision that they employed to pull the Beaumont Bash out of their butts.
With the result that they somehow managed to transform me from the black and blue disaster I woke up as, into the picture of a polished and refined lady.
I glance apprehensively out at the bright sunshine blanketing the hills. Hopefully, the carefully applied window-dressing survives the literal trial by fire it's about to be subjected to. Because just like yesterday, the temperature is set to climb into the mid-90's today as well, which means I'll most likely end up sweating buckets again, thanks to the Edwardian nature of my dress's neckline.
And what I definitely don't need today is for all the blush and cover-up getting smudged away so that everyone at the event can start speculating about the intimate placement of my of hickeys!
I close my eyes wearily. God, I can't wait for all this to be over...
"No catnaps!" snaps Bertrand, slapping a wide-brimmed hat onto my head. "The people are waiting on us!"
I barely have time to grab my matching clutch before the Beaumonts are whisking me out of my room and down the length of the corridor towards the manor's lawn.
"Surely the Festival can start without us...!" I gasp as I stumble after Bertrand in my heels.
"No, it cannot," he reprimands. "All members of the Council must be present for the ceremonial tree planting."
I frown. "Tree planting? Isn't that a little... agrarian for the aristos?"
"It is a time-honoured tradition!" corrects Bertrand. "Cordonia owes its existence and livelihood to the noble Ruby, so it is the duty of the Council to ensure that the fruits of our bounty are secured for future generations! Hence, the requirement to plant new saplings at the end of each harvest!"
"If you say so..." I concede as we pass through the back doors of the manor.
Based on what I saw at the apple pick, Bertrand's pronouncement seems optimistic at best, given that none of the aristos even bothered to lift a finger to a tree yesterday.
But, looks can always be deceiving, so maybe today is the day that the I am pleasantly surprised for once.
A deafening cheer erupts as the Beaumonts and I step out onto the manor's steps.
Snapping my head towards the source of the commotion, I see what appears to be thousands of people crammed behind velvet-lined cordons, screaming and jostling for position like they're in the front row of a Taylor Swift concert...
...and it takes me a second to realise that it's my name that they're shouting.
"Duchess!"
"Lady Harper, we love you!"
"You're the true Apple Queen, no matter what anyone says!"
"Wow..." I blink, taken aback by the fervency of the crowd's reaction. "I didn't realise I had such a rabid following..."
"Best wave to them," suggests Maxwell, leaning in as he raises his arm into the air with a wide smile.
"Okay..." I concede hesitantly, turning to the crowd to do the same.
The last time I experienced anything remotely like this had been on the red carpet at the Derby — my first public outing as a suitor. But even the bright flash of the cameras and the intrusive questions that the reporters had flung at me paled in comparison to the reaction I am receiving today.
Phones and cameras are thrust into the air as the Beaumonts and I descend the manor's stairs to the accompaniment of the increasingly frenzied cheers and shouts of encouragement. Even a few bouquets of flowers fly through the air, narrowly missing my hat.
And I can't help but smile in the face of the genuine outpouring of support from the crowd. Because it sure as heck feels good to be on top for once!
However, arriving at the edge of the orchard where the tree planting ceremony is due to take place, I am greeted by a very different type of welcome.
Snooty expressions drip down the ends of aristocratic noses as the members of the Council pass silent judgment on my somewhat bombastic entrance.
"They're just jealous," Maxwell whispers to me as we take up our spots at the edge of the gathering.
"Yeah..." I agree with a stilted voice. "That's what I'm worried about."
I know firsthand of the lengths that these people are willing to go to in order to exact vengeance for perceived slights. And I did not particularly feel like painting a target on my back a second time while I am still trying to recover from the hurt caused by the first.
Maybe this is a mistake...
But I don't have time to think on it long, because the public erupts into an even more deafening outburst as Christian appears with Madeleine on his arm.
"Look at her..." snips a voice from behind me. "Acting like she's Queen already."
I whip around in disbelief. "Olivia!"
The Duchess of Lythikos cuts her green eyes over at me with a derisive look. "Oh, don't look so surprised, Harper. Just because you are now a duchess, does not mean that the rest of us have taken early retirement."
"Trust me," I grumble under my breath, "this was not the plan."
"Opportunities multiply as they are seized," she replies sagely.
I quirk a brow at her. "Meaning?"
"Meaning," she expounds surly, "opportunity breeds opportunity. And only by exploiting every advantage will you uncover previously hidden gains. Do they not teach The Art of War inyour schools?"
"No..."
She scoffs under her breath. "Explains a lot."
I roll my eyes at her as Christian and Madeleine pause on the steps for photos and a couple of quick sound bites. "I guess this means your sabbatical was productive?"
"Exceedingly."
I heave a breath. "At least one of us is making progress..."
"Oh, don't sell yourself short," she counters out of the corner of her mouth. "Your recent advancements have served as a welcome distraction..."
"Not sure if that’s a compliment, or not..." I admit sourly.
"You have more power than you realise," she insists quietly. "Make sure you use it."
"Wow..." I mutter, glancing over at her in genuine surprise. "Friendly advice from the Scarlet Duchess? What else have you learnt during your time away?"
"Our interests are temporarily aligned, nothing more," she replies, shooting daggers across the lawn towards Madeleine. "And I'll fill you in shortly."
"Well, it's good to have you back, regardless," I say with a dip of my head. "Your Grace."
Olivia shoots me a sidelong look. "Don't get sentimental on me, Duchess."
But I can see the hint of a smile pulling at her lips.
Christian and Madeleine arrive at the edge of the trees. Stepping up to the row of waiting saplings, Christian pulls a stack of notecards out of his pocket and delivers a short speech to the click of the cameras.
As the mandatory applause dies down, he slots the pieces of paper carefully away... and pulls off his jacket.
"What are you doing?" hisses Madeleine as the crowd descends into a hubbub of excited reactions.
"Taking a leaf out of the Duchess of Valtoria's book," he replies, handing his jacket off to the closest shocked Councillor as he sets about rolling up his sleeves.
"Out of—!" Madeleine bristles in indignation, while trying to maintain an outwardly calm composure. "The only thing you have taken is leave of your senses! Now get back here and—!"
Ignoring his fiancée's outburst, Christian grabs the ribbon-bedecked shovel out of the hands of the footman that was holding it, and steps up to a clear patch of grass. Adjusting his grip on the handle, he digs the metal blade decisively into the ground to the accompanying slew of clicking camera shutters.
"Shall we?" asks Olivia with a sly smirk as she pushes her way to the front of the line of gawping nobles.
"Let's," I agree, instantly catching onto her plan.
"Lady Harper!" hisses Bertrand from behind me. "What do you think you're—?"
"Lending a hand to the King," I throw back over my shoulder as I step to the front of the row of aristos who are looking mutely onto the sight of their monarch working up an actual sweat before them.
Grabbing another shovel from the pile in the corner — these ones obviously having seen some honest work already, judging by the dirt encrusted on their faces — I join the King of Cordonia in enlarging the hole in the ground.
Because regardless of Christian's underlying motives for ennobling me, and whatever his broader game may be, what he is doing right now is bigger than me, bigger than him, bigger than any of us. And that deserves recognition. Especially when he is taking such active — and public — strides towards being the change he wants to see unfurl during his rule. Where the ruling class doesn't just offer empty platitudes and hollow ceremony, but actually practices what it preaches. So, what better way to do that, than by planting the seeds of change in front of thousands of people in the literal heart of the kingdom?
Christian rewards my arrival with a nod and a smile as I take up position next to him.
Hefting my shovel, I slice it into the earth that he's already uncovered, using the somewhat flimsy sole of my heeled sandals to drive it deeper.
Scooping the blade back out, I suddenly feel a presence to my left. Looking up, I see that Maxwell has also joined our impromptu work crew.
Throwing me a wink, he drops his shovel in next to mine.
With the three of us working on tandem, it takes us almost no time at all to dig out a hole large enough to house the new apple tree.
Wiping the sweat from my forehead — the weatherman had not lied, that's for sure! — I see that Olivia, with some assistance from Hana, has already prepared the sapling by shunting it closer to the hole and removing the burlap covering from its roots.
Laying down our shovels, we help her manoeuvre the tree to the edge of the dint. Cheers and applause rise up from the onlookers as the sapling thuds into the earth. Olivia uses one of the knives from her hidden arsenal to slice off the twines holding the branches together, and the tree unfurls itself with a satisfied snap.
"Your Majesty!" shouts a reporter, who I recognise as Frederick Capone. "One for the Cordonian Times, if you please!"
"And for the CBS!" adds Donald Brine, muscling his way to the front.
"Certainly," accedes Christian graciously, holding his arm out. "It was a group effort, after all."
We all gather in — sweaty and dirty, but smiling — as the press corps immortalises the scene...
...and I innocuously sweep my hair over my shoulder in a vain effort to try and hide any bruises that may have become uncovered as a result of the unplanned exertion.
"Thank you for joining me in my moment of impulsivity," Christian acknowledges softly as the bulbs flash.
"Please," scoffs Olivia out of the side of her mouth. "It was coordinated from the start."
"The people don't seem to mind," counters Hana with a demure smile as she faces the cameras.
"With the exception of about half-dozen," I note, glancing back at the disgruntled looks of the Councillors from behind us, as they try to save face by applauding our efforts together with the rest of the crowd.
"They'll fall in line." Christian assures me as he lifts his hand with a wave.
I feel a prick between my shoulder blades. Turning my head, I catch sight of the cold fire radiating out of Madeleine's gaze from behind the mask of her perfect smile.
"Maybe not everyone..." I mutter under my breath as I turn back towards the paps.
I'm already on Madeleine's shit list for daring to return to court after my very public humiliation and banishment. On the night of her engagement tour launch party, no less! So, the fact that I ended up upstaging her — again — probably means that I've sunk even further down the ladder of her estimations.
To what end, I have no idea. But I'm going to have to start being more careful from here on out.
Once the press are finally placated, we disperse across the lawn in search of some much-needed refreshments.
"Harper!"
I swallow a groan as I'm brought up short, mere steps from the freshly squeezed, rosemary-infused lemonade that I desperately need after toiling away in this heat. "What now, Bertrand...?"
"I... uhm..." He clears his throat as I turn to face him. "I wanted to apologise for my earlier outburst. It was unseemly... and in retrospect, short-sighted."
"What do you mean?" I ask with a frown. Bertrand very rarely — if ever! — apologised.
"The public reaction to the tree planting has been overwhelming," he clarifies, pulling his phone out.
My eyes bulge as I take in the view count on the screen. "A hundred thousand views already!"
"And counting," Bertrand adds. "And that is only one website."
"And look at the comments!" I exclaim, scrolling through the feed. "They're loving Maxwell as well!"
"Yes, it appears that my brother has a keener instinct for media relations than I do..."
"You should tell him that," I say. "It would mean the world to him."
Bertrand looks momentarily taken aback. "I... Well..." He clears his throat again. "Yes. Maybe I will. He deserves some recognition for his efforts in diverting — at least temporarily — the negative attention away from our financial predicaments."
"A simple hug and a 'thank-you' will do," I tell him with a knowing look.
Bertrand reels back in abject horror. "I will not subject my brother to such a sordid display of affection! Especially in public!"
I heave a sigh. "And there's your problem, right th—"
I trail off as I spot a familiar figure signalling to me from over Bertrand's shoulders.
"Excuse me," I say, palming Bertrand's phone back to him as I move towards one of the marquees that had been set up at the edge of the lawn.
Slipping inside the flap of the tent, I come face-to-face with Ana de Luca.
"Your Grace," she nods, dipping into a curtesy, something she hasn't deigned to do before. "Thank you for making the time."
"Ana," I nod in return, wondering why the influential editor of Trend chose to pull me away for a private meeting. Especially after I cornered her so forcefully at Madeleine's garden party a few days ago.
"I suppose congratulations are in order," she continues, straightening back up. "Since returning to court you have managed to elevate yourself not just in rank, but in the eyes of the public as well. Rolling your sleeves up in tandem with the King was a masterful piece of image enhancement."
"I didn't do it for myself," I reply evenly.
"Of course," she nods quickly. "We must all step in line with our new King. But your reputation is certainly reaping the benefits as well."
"As is your bottom line," I point out.
"Your initiative is markedly boosting sales of this month's special edition, as well as traffic to our website," she concedes. "For which Trend is very grateful. But that is not the reason I pulled you aside."
"What is it then?"
"I found out the name of the photographer," she replies, reaching into her handbag.
I feel my heart jump in my chest. "You're joking..."
She raises a brow at me from behind the lenses of her black-out Versace shades as she pulls a small flash-drive out. "I can assure you that I am not."
I quickly pull myself back together. "No. Of course not..."
Handing the drive over, she adds. "On there you will find all the pertinent information I was able to obtain through my own means."
"Thank you," I say sincerely, taking the piece of plastic from her. "I honestly was not expecting this..."
She shrugs an elegant shoulder. "I said I would look into it, so I did. It is not much, but I am sure you have people who can hopefully take it further."
"I do," I affirm, slotting the device into my clutch.
"After all," she adds with a knowing quirk to her lips. "You are not the only one with a vested interest in seeing your name cleared, Your Grace."
With another quick bob, she exits the marquee.
I let out a low exhale as the tent flap drops back into place in her wake. "Thank God..."
Some much-needed progress at last!
Hopefully, Drake can take the information from the drive and do a deep dive into the photographer to see if they ever crossed paths with whoever it is that has it in for me.
Which reminds me...
Opening my clutch up again, I pull my phone out and type up a quick message to my elusive boyfriend.
I haven't seen or heard from him since the event started. And now I have two pieces of critical information I need to share with him. So, rather than chasing after him like some damsel in distress, I'm going to make him come to me for a change. Because time is of the essence, and I don't want to wait.
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Hitting send, I exit the tent and head back towards the orchard. I figure that since everyone is on the lawn, the secluded garden hidden amongst the trees will give me and Drake the best chance to meet in private, away from the prying eyes of the court and the press.
Slipping between the tree trunks, I try to make my way as casually as possible through the orchard, as if I am simply out for a walk, in order to ward off potential suspicion. But, as I drift further away from the Festival, I start to pick up the pace, mindful of the short timeframe I gave Drake... as well as the exposed roots on the ground.
Because as much as I might want to hurry, I definitely don't want — or need — a twisted ankle the day before we're due to start the international leg of the trip. As Mom was right — I should take advantage of the upcoming whirlwind tour of Europe to at least try and get some sightseeing in. As who knows when I'll get the chance to do this again...
...especially if I'm forced to become a hermit because we fail to expose the mastermind behind the press scandal.
I shake my head. No. I need to stay positive. It's the only way I'm going to get through—
"Competing with a herd of elephants, Gale?"
I snap my gaze up at the sound of Drake's voice... and nearly trip over a hidden apple lodged in the grass.
"You try sneaking ‘round in four-inch heels," I grumble back at him, while using the trunk of a nearby tree to steady myself.
He mutters something under his breath as he steps over to me with an outstretched hand. "Here."
Grabbing his hand, I navigate gingerly away from the tree, only to find that the slightly rotten fruit has become impaled on the end of my stiletto.
"Great..." I groan, trying to flick the stupid thing off... But it stays stubbornly stuck.
"You're a walking disaster, y'know that, right?" drawls Drake as he drops down in front of me.
"Ha-ha, funny," I snark back at him while trying to balance on one foot on the uneven ground.
He meets my eye with a wry look as he finally manages to pull the offending fruit off with a squelch. "You're only gripin' 'cause it's true."
"Yeah, well, not all of us have... reflexes... like Neo..." I reply sardonically as I save myself from tipping over by grabbing onto Drake's shoulder.
He stifles a scoff as he tosses the apple into the trees. "You good?"
"Yeah," I confirm, righting myself again and letting go of his shirt.
Drake regards me critically for a long moment — as if expecting me to keel over again at the drop of a hat — before pushing himself up.
"Thanks," I say, laying an appreciative hand on his arm.
The humour fades from his gaze at the contact.
"Drake..." I start...
...but he's already pulled away.
"What did you want to talk about?" he asks, not quite meeting my eyes as he slots his hands into his pockets, the momentary lightness of our previous interaction gone.
I heave a breath.
We really need to talk about what happened this morning. But his suddenly standoffish demeanour makes it clear that he's not quite ready for that yet.
So, I decide to start with something less contentious.
"We have a lead on the photographer," I tell him, reaching into my clutch.
His head perks up with interest. "That was fast."
"Teamwork makes the dream work," I agree with a smile, pulling the flash drive back out and holding it out to him.
His posture suddenly stiffens. "The hell is that?"
I glance around me uncertainly. "What?"
"The fucking ring on your finger," he declares dispassionately, his accusatory gaze scorching into my outstretched hand.
My heart drops. Oh, no...
This is not how I wanted to break it to him. But unfortunately for both of us, the cat has now ripped itself out of the proverbial bag, so I'm just going to have to scamper after it.
Taking a steadying inhale, I look him square in the eye. "It's my new signet ring." I turn my hand over to show it to him.
His face darkens. "Fils de pute de—" he grits under his breath, snapping a hand out to grab my wrist.
My eyes widen. "Drake, what are y—?"
A storm is raging in his espresso gaze. "Signet rings go on the little finger. On the right hand."
"Oh," is all I can manage as he swipes the golden band off my left ring finger.
"You didn't know, did you?" he asks softly, reaching for my other hand... more gently this time.
I shake my head with a constricted throat. "No, I—"
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
My head jerks ‘round at the sound of the unexpected voice. "Christian!"
"I see you couldn't resist a somewhat impulsive stroll through the orchards, either?" he asks, more rhetorically than anything else. "The scent of apples is truly luscious this time of year."
"Erm... yes...!" I manage to squeak out, shoving my right hand behind my back. "Smells like apple juice!"
Christian's brow quivers ever so slightly at my slightly random — and obviously unexpected — comparison.
But I'm too busy coordinating with Drake to get the signet ring shoved back onto my hand while trying to palm the flash drive off to him without dropping either in the process. As both outcomes would lead to some very awkward conversations!
I feel the warmth of the metal slide onto the index finger of my hand (Drake had probably ascertained that the circumference of the band was too large for my pinky), and I'm finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.
Embarrassing backpedaling, narrowly averted!
Drake uses the opportunity to extract the flash drive from my hand as well, dropping the device casually into his pocket as he moves beside me. "She ain't wrong."
"No," concedes Christian, eying the two of us for a second longer than strictly comfortable. "She rarely is."
"So, umm... Are you hiding from the paps as well?" I ask in a bid to diffuse the growing tension in the air.
"No, I came looking for you, actually," he corrects, taking a step forward. "I saw you slip into the orchard, and thought it prudent to follow you."
"Oh?" I say, feeling my stomach tighten again. "Worried I might get lost?"
"I was hoping to catch you alone," he corrects, coming to a stop in front of me.
I swallow tightly as I see him glance over at Drake.
Please don't fight... Please don't fight...
Christian's gaze reverts to me. "But I suppose it is convenient for Drake to happen to be here as well."
My heart skips an uncomfortable beat. "It is?"
"Yes," he affirms. "I have received some news that you'll both be interested in hearing."
"Well, don't keep us in damn suspense, then..." mutters Drake with a noticeable edge to his voice.
I try to reach discretely out to brush my fingers against his, to reassure him that come what may, we'll get through it together, that—
"We found Tariq."
Christian's words hit me like a kick to the chest. The breath explodes out of me so forcefully that I am actually forced to take a step back in a bid to maintain my balance as the apple trees descend into a spin around me.
No way...
"Where?"
Drake's voice floats across the edge of my awareness. And even in my spaced-out state, I can feel the weight of the cold, calculated fury infused into that single word.
No corner... No mercy.
"Dubai," replies Christian, who also sounds like he's miles away. "He—"
But Drake's already spun away. "Send me the coordinates."
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"Harper?"
I blink up at Christian in a daze. "Huh?"
"Are you alright?" he asks, laying a concerned hand on my cheek. "You... You looked as if you were about to faint..."
"I..." I swallow past the sudden dryness in my throat. "I'm okay."
"Are you certain?" he presses, peering down at me. "I could ring for a doctor, and—"
"No," I insist, pulling away from him. "I'm fine. I... I guess I just got caught off-guard..."
"It is an unexpected development, certainly," he concedes. "But hopefully still a welcome one?"
"Yes!" I blurt out. "Of course! I want to clear my name more than anyone, and Tariq is key to that! I just..." My voice trails uncertainly off.
Christian flashes me a knowing half-smile. "Feel some trepidation about the prospect...?"
"I guess so," I concede, my fingers moving unconsciously to the horseshoe charm at my wrist.
Because as much as I may want Tariq to pay for what he did from a rational point of view, from an emotional standpoint, I’m terrified.
As even though I know in the back of my mind that a lot of my trepidation has to do with the fact that I am still trying to recover from the psychological trauma that Tariq inflicted on me, a major part of me is also scared of what setting the record straight would entail in practice.
Christian had mentioned that there were 'methods of persuasion' that could be used to force a confession from Tariq. But then what? Would I be made to very publicly relive the entire horrible episode in the form of TV spots and interviews, or would we be able to get by with one official press release? And given my spotty history with the press, will people actually believe my side of the story...?
I mean, Meghan and Harry didn’t exactly fare well in the court of public opinion when they tried to counter the official royal narrative...
On top of all that, in light of my very visceral reactions to returning to Applewood, I have no idea how I'm going to react to seeing Tariq in person again. Would I burst into tears? Have a nervous breakdown? Dissolve into a panic attack? Stab him in the gut and then the nuts?
And (possibly worst of all) what if we discover that Tariq had been acting alone? And his attack on me — while traumatising — is in no way connected to the larger, and definitely more dangerous plot to remove me from the running for Queen? What then...?
"Your qualms are not as misplaced as you may initially think," Christian consoles. "It is a daunting prospect to face the person who actively sought to harm you."
Something in his tone catches my attention. "What do you mean?"
Christian heaves a sigh. "I do not know if you are aware of this, but several years ago, I was the target of an assassination attempt."
I nod tightly. "Yes. Drake told me."
"Then I presume he also told you how deeply the experience affected me," he says, catching my eye with an uncharacteristically guarded look.
"Yes," I affirm, thinking back to the conversation in Olivia's wine cellar that felt like years ago.
"What he probably didn't tell you, however," he continues, "is that I visited the perpetrator in prison."
My jaw drops. "You what!"
"Not publicly and certainly not in any official capacity." He shakes his head wryly. "I did not even talk to the man."
"Then why...?"
"I... I was having trouble reconciling with what had happened," he explains. "And moving past it. The trauma councillor that I was working with suggested that it was perhaps because I was subconsciously endowing the gunman with too much power, and thereby transmuting the man into something more akin to an evil monster."
A shiver runs down my spine at Christian's words. It's like he's talking about Tariq...
"So, to help break the negative emotional associations I had built up, my councillor arranged a clandestine meeting where I would have the opportunity to face the man."
"How... How did that go?" I ask nervously.
"I was terrified, of course," Christian admits. "I had no idea what to expect and each scenario I imagined in my head was worse than the last. But, when I finally got into room where the meeting was to take place, I was surprised by what I saw. As rather than some hulking, shadowy fiend, it was a pale, somewhat diminutive man sat across from me."
"So… what did you do?"
"We simply sat at a table and stared at each other," he recounts. "He with more than a bit of contemptuous malice, I have to admit, but in that moment, I realised that he was a flesh-and-blood person who had fallen prey to the same misguided emotions as I — anger, fear, resentment — just manifested differently. And that helped set me onto the path of true healing. As ultimately, I was able to forgive him."
"Forgive him?" I gasp disbelievingly. "For trying to murder you?"
"Nobody acts in isolation," Christian advises calmly. "Even the most unconscionable horrors perpetrated by the villains of humanity — torture, mass murder, genocide — sprout from the basis of an emotional or psychological motivator such as love, fear, greed, jealousy... to name but a few. So, while we may disagree with and condemn the action retrospectively from the safety of the moral high-ground, it is very possible that had we found ourselves in a similar situation, we would end up being just as guilty as the person we are looking to condemn."
"So, what?" I demand testily. "I should feel sorry for Tariq for what he did to me?"
"Showing empathy and compassion towards our counterparts does not mean forgetting or excusing the harm suffered," counsels Christian. "But it will certainly allow you to start on the path of true healing."
I shake my head as I turn away. "I'm not sure Tariq deserves that..."
"It is by no means an easy assignment," he admits, laying a hand on my shoulder. "But even if you cannot find it in your heart presently to forgive him, do at least try to keep yourself open to the possibility down the line. You may be surprised by the results."
Looking up, I can see that there is sincerity welling on his emerald gaze. And — for once — I don't doubt the true intent of his words. "Thanks. I'll think about it."
"As diplomatic as ever," he smiles, the tips of his fingers brushing down my back as he drops his hand. "And, regardless of what you choose to do, I'll be right by your side to support you."
"Thanks," I mutter with what I hope is a genuine smile, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that with Drake’s abrupt departure, it’s just me and Christian amongst the trees. Taking a step back towards the way I’d come, I ask, "So, umm... How did you end up finding him?"
"Instagram," replies Christian with a wry chuckle as he falls into step beside me.
My head snaps up in bewilderment. "He posted his whereabouts?"
"No," he laughs, looping my arm through his in reassurance. "Not intentionally, at any rate. He took shelter on his cousin's yacht docked off the coast of the Palm Jumeirah, and—"
"What's that?" I ask with a frown.
"One of a trio of artificially constructed archipelagos located off the coast of Dubai," he explains. "They are so called for their shape, which resemble stylised palm trees."
"Sounds... fancy," I admit, while trying to maintain some semblance of platonic distance between the two of us.
"They really are a sight to behold," he affirms, pulling me back to his side. "But it is part of the reason why we were not able to locate him initially — we knew he has family in the Emirates, of course, but—"
"He does?" I interject in surprise. This is certainly news to me...!
"Yes," he nods. "His father is a Cordonian nobleman, but his mother hails from the House of Al Falasi, the branch of the Bani Yas tribe that also produced Dubai's ruling family."
My eyes widen. "So, his mom is royalty?"
"No," chuckles Christian. "She is not directly connected to the Al Maktoum dynasty. But her family is nevertheless influential in the region. Which is why when we hit a roadblock with the French authorities, we decided to focus our efforts on countries where we knew he had familial or business connections. The Emirates, however, boast a multitude of private airfields, not to mention water-based ports of entry, so attempting to narrow down Tariq’s possible time and method of arrival and determining where he went from there was providing to be a complex undertaking. Especially since we had to ensure to conduct our enquiries outside of the official channels."
"Specifically, via social media," I supply dryly.
"Yes," confirms Christian, only half jokingly. "When we realised that Tariq must have switched off or changed out his phone, Drake suggested that we set up a facial recognition-based search algorithm that could scour the various social media and news portals in a bid to help us pinpoint his exact location."
"That sounds... technical," I admit.
"A few years ago, it would have been, But the technology is relatively commonplace now, thankfully."
"So, you managed to get a hit?"
"Yes," he affirms. "One of his cousins on his mother's side posted a selfie featuring his new yacht a couple of days ago... and someone who partially matched Tariq's features was visible on the edge of the frame. But it wasn't until this morning that our man on the ground was able to obtain independent confirmation that it really was him."
"Wow..." I manage. "Talk about blind, dumb luck."
"Never underestimate the awesome power of serendipity," counsels Christian with a smile as we reach the edge of the trees again. "It certainly played a hand in crossing our paths."
I swallow nervously. "Yeah, I—"
"You have some nerve!"
Before I have a chance to realise what is happening, Madeleine has swooped in from seemingly out of nowhere to intercept us with all the wrathful precision of a homing missile.
"Ow!" I hiss, feeling the ends of her manicured nails sink into my arm as she wrenches me off Christian like I'm some kind of plague.
"One would think you would be grateful to His Majesty for his benevolent generosity in elevating your previously non-existent status to that of a duchess," she spits with barely disguised contempt as she pulls me nose-to-nose with her.
"Get off me!" I grit, trying to shake her loose.
"Madeleine..." interjects Christian from behind me in a voice that I only heard him use once before... in the hallway at Ramsford when he realised that Drake had brought me back to Cordonia. "You overstep."
But the Countess of Fydelia seems to hear neither of us as she tightens her claw-like hold on me. "Yet instead, you repay him by not only by hijacking a royal event to serve your own shameless self-aggrandisement—"
I shake my head in disbelief. "Wait... Wh—?"
"—but then you have the unmitigated gall—"
"Madeleine," says Christian again, more forcefully this time. "That is enough."
But Madeleine is oblivious to the quiet threat suffused into the sound of her name, choosing to continue her tirade instead, "—to sneak off into the bushes with my fiancé in order to do God-knows-what when he should be—"
"I said, enough!" snaps Christian, coming suddenly between Madeleine and me with a face of thunder.
The force of his command is loud enough to cause a few heads on the edge of the lawn to turn curiously towards us.
Even Madeleine startles somewhat in response to the uncharacteristically vehement order. But not enough to let go of me.
"Can you not see what she is doing?" she demands indignantly as she turns to face Christian. "Or does she have you wrapped so tightly around her finger that you cannot even—?"
"How I choose to spend my time with the Duchess of Valtoria in private is of no concern to you, Countess," interjects Christian bluntly. "Or do I need to remind you of the conditions of our engagement?"
Madeleine's alabaster cheeks flush scarlet. "No..."
"Then I strongly suggest that you unhand Lady Harper, and ensure that this kind of juvenile outburst does not happen again."
Madeleine's eyes blaze with cold fury. But she relinquishes her hold on me, nevertheless. "My apologies, Duchess..." she snips, her voice dripping with insincerity.
I reach up to rub the spot where her nails had been on the verge of puncturing my skin.
Bitch...
Christian nods tersely in approval. "Now that that is sorted, I believe our guests are waiting. Lady Madeleine, if you'd be so kind..."
Madeleine takes his arm with a look that could've killed. "Of course, Your Majesty."
"Lady Harper," acknowledges Christian with a dip of his head as he starts to steer his seething fiancée away.
Knowing that all eyes are still on us, I drop into a quick curtesy as they walk past, on one hand grateful to Christian for shutting Madeleine down, but on the other hand wondering how badly we kicked into a nest of hornets in the process.
As it is clear that Madeleine is still raging with jealous insecurity... Perhaps even more so than she had been back at her manor when she cornered me in the bathroom. And the fact that — despite the massive diamond on her finger — I now technically outrank her is definitely not helping the situation!
So much for making allies at court…
Blowing a wayward strand of hair out of my face, I turn back towards the festivities…
…only to be greeted by a wall of judgemental eyes, and more than a few camera lenses.
"Great..." I mutter under my breath.
Whether catching me with Christian had been the genuine straw that snapped Madeleine's cool, or whether she deliberately fabricated the showdown to undermine the positive reactions I got from the press earlier, the end result is the same...
I'm going to be on the front page tomorrow. Again.
Exactly in what form, I have no idea. But I've been at court long enough now to know that the whole thing will be blown completely out of proportion, and the resulting story will generate even more press frenzy.
But if there’s one thing that Drake has taught me, it’s that I cannot allow myself to give the aristos the satisfaction of ever thinking that they’ve managed to squash me into the dirt. Because that would undermine the entire reason why I came back to court in the first place, and given how close we now are to claiming back the truth, it would be a massive and premature admission of defeat.
So, raising my chin defiantly, I make my way back across the lawn to rejoin the remainder of the Festival.
The story continues in Chapter 17 - News Flash
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shyjusticewarrior · 4 months
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I feel your compliments like bullets on skin
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it's so nice when you didn't realize you were freaked out and now you're calm. like, i didn't feel bad before and i didn't even know i was that tense but i feel ten times better now. anyway I survived another chemistry lab so here's the batkids as Olivia Rodrigo songs:
Babs - the grudge
I have nightmares each week about that Friday in May One phone call from you and my entire world was changed
Dick - hope ur ok
Address the letters to the holes in my butterfly wings Nothing's forever, nothing is as good as it seems
Jason - vampire
'Cause I've made some real big mistakes But you make the worst one look fine I should've known it was strange You only come out at night
Tim - logical
'Cause if rain don't pour and sun don't shine Then changing you is possible No, love is never logical
Steph - pretty isn't pretty
And I bought all the clothes that they told me to buy I chased some dumb ideal my entire life And none of it matters and none of it ends You just feel like shit over and over again
Cass - ballad of a homeschooled girl
Cat got my tongue And I don't think I get along with anyone Blood running cold I'm on the outside of the greatest inside joke
Damian - enough for you
And you always say I'm never satisfied But I don't think that's true 'Cause all I ever wanted was to be enough for you
Duke - teenage dream
And when does wide-eyed affection and all good intentions start to not be enough? When will everyone have every reason to call all my bluffs? And when are all my excuses of learning my lessons gonna start to feel sad? Will I spend all the rest of my years wishin' I could go back?
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arrowheadedbitch · 6 months
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Currently listening to Get Him Back by Olivia Rodrigo and imagining tim singing it about a shifty ex that his brothers did not know about. Him saying "But I am my father's son, so should I try to fix him?" AUGGHHHTFUF
And afterwards his brothers are trying to get him to tell them who the guy is so they can 'just talk' to him hydjfhj
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kristinamae093 · 8 months
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Ghosted
Ghosted - The Apple Banquet (Chapter 7)
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Series Summary - Prince Liam fell for Riley Brooks hard and fast. A marriage filled with love and devotion was within his reach. But everything changed when she vanished just before the end of the social season. As everyone voices their concerns regarding her scandalous departure, a confession from an unlikely source turns Liam's world upside down and makes him question everything around him.
Book/Pairing - TRR - Liam x MC (Riley Brooks)
A/N1 - This AU starts right before the beginning of the engagement tour. There is a two-month lapse between the coronation and where we pick up, but we will stray from canon. Please excuse any errors found.
Characters belong to Pixelberry
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The Apple Banquet was set to begin inside the ballroom of the Applewood Estate momentarily. The entire country was excited, as it was the first one to take place since Constantine wed Regina. All of the nobility gathered to witness the bride and groom share an apple from the year’s first harvest before the wedding.
The wedding, Liam scoffed at the thought. After they found all of Riley’s things a few days ago, he completely changed his view point on the scandal and her disappearance. He spent all this time believing she left to be with someone else, but he began to see the situation from a different light.
It seems the more he learns about Riley’s last night here, the more he believes she was forced away.
Liam learned of Riley retiring early from Maxwell, so they had a solid timeframe where someone could have gotten her out of the estate undetected and the maid to pack and move her things. He felt a sense of relief when the maid reiterated that she was not seen leaving with Tariq, but another man. Of course, he wished she would have been able to identify the unknown person, but in a way, his heart swelled knowing she didn’t leave with Tariq, although it opened a world of other unanswered questions.
Bastien had been searching for Tariq and Riley but had no luck in locating either thus far. The last trace of Riley was landing from her flight in New York, the morning after the Country Jamboree. From there, her trail runs cold. There was no trace of Tariq after his arrival to Applewood whatsoever; there wasn’t even a record of a car coming to pick him up from the estate that night. They had both simply vanished into thin air, like a ghost.
Without either of them, Liam was clueless as to how to proceed further. The few clues they had were just that, clues. There was nothing prominent enough to place blame anywhere. Riley's room had been cleared, not a trace to be found. Nothing was spotted outside, no predominant leads were found in the shed, aside from the dress and the piece of mail. Much to everyone's dismay, Bastien confirmed that he disposed of Riley's phone and the letter left in the room, so no comparison could be done. Liam took blame for everything and felt helpless, there was nothing more he could do; but he felt he had to put on his Kingly facade and continue as if nothing was amiss, at least for the time being.
However, Liam felt the time constricting on him. He was set to marry Madeleine in just a few short weeks, and he didn’t have a clue as to what he was going to do about that. Although he knew it was his duty to marry and produce heirs, he didn’t know if he could marry Madeleine just to appease the nobility, especially now that he knew someone potentially plotted to put her on the throne.
More than that, after they found Riley’s bloodied dress, Liam felt a renewed sense of urgency about locating her; he needed to see that she was unharmed. Of course he wanted nothing more than to hopefully bring her back and ultimately make her his Queen, but he didn’t want to get too far ahead of himself. Just seeing with his own two eyes that she is okay would suffice him, although it would break his heart all over again.
As Liam stood on the dias next to Madeleine greeting all of the court’s nobles, he couldn’t help but look at everyone as if they were a suspect. Although the maid said she saw Riley with a man in a suit, every single person there could have benefitted from getting rid of her; he was aware of the fact that Riley was a commoner and not everyone would be okay with having her as a Queen. Furthermore, Liam was sure it was a hired person who escorted Riley away; he knew his nobles were not stupid, but conniving and malicious. They wouldn’t risk getting their hands dirty, especially with something of that magnitude considering she would have been his selection. That meant the suspect list was open to all of the nobility at this point.
“Liam? Are you even listening to me?!” Madeleine snapped.
“No, I’m not.” Liam retorted. He realized the other nobles were lining up behind the double doors, a sure signal that they were about to be announced into the ballroom with his Father and Regina at the head. He turned away from Madeleine and headed toward the line of people. He took his position in the back of the procession, as tradition dictated. He squared his shoulders, stood to his full height, and waited.
“Penelope!” Madeleine snapped her fingers. “My train!”
Liam silently scoffed as he watched Penelope scurry over and take position behind Madeleine. He saw her struggling to keep up with Madeleine’s pace, but she never once let that train touch the ground.
As they reached Liam’s position, Madeleine shooed Penelope away before she turned to Liam. “Cute. I don’t know what your deal is but you need to knock it off.”
“Or what?” Liam snapped as he turned to face her.
“I’m sure I can think of something.”
“Are you threatening me?”
Madeleine indignantly laughed. “No, darling, whatever would make you think that?” She feigned innocence.
Liam stepped closer to her and lowered his voice to where only she could hear. “I told you, I'm not playing whatever game it is that you are trying to play. You'd do well to remember that you are not the Queen, not yet… I hold that power, so I would advise you to tread carefully, Countess.” He hissed through clenched teeth.
Liam found himself on edge; he was not in the mood to deal with Madeleine, or anyone else for that matter. This is the last place he wanted to be, and he was not about to let Madeleine try and boss him around or assert whatever dominance she thought she held over him.
Liam stood back up and adjusted his lapels. Madeleine’s face turned a hundred shades of crimson, but she returned her attention to the line in front of her. She attempted to thread her arm through Liam’s, but he pulled away. At a nod from the herald, the doors swung open and Liam strode inside with Madeleine walking closely beside him.
They were led by a servant to a banquet table adorned with a white lace tablecloth. A wooden stand sat in the middle of the table with a bright red cordonian ruby sitting atop it, beside the apple was a knife with a black handle and gold trim.
Liam took his position behind the table next to Madeleine and directed his attention to his father, who had taken place in front of the table with a champagne flute of cider in hand.
"The sharing of a Cordonian ruby dates back to the times of King Fabian. At that time, the King and Queen would not share cake when they wed, but instead a Cordonian ruby. The monarchy has since modernized, but this tradition is to honor those who have paved the way before us.
We gather here today to celebrate not only another year's bountiful harvest, but the matrimony that these two will share. Although no vows will be exchanged here today, the symbolism remains the same."
Constantine stopped his speech as applause filled the air. He waited for a few moments before he raised his hand to quiet the crowd and continued. "We have a bright future ahead of us as a country. I have no doubt in my mind that these two will lead us with distinction and grace, just as the Kings and Queens before them. We will not only thrive under their rule, but prosper." He lifted his glass in the air. "To King Liam and our soon to be Queen, Countess Madeleine."
The crowd all raised their glasses and echoed the former King's sentiments. Liam and Madeleine then each cut a slice from the apple and ate it to complete the needless ceremony. Liam grew up loving the Cordonian ruby and was incredibly proud of his heritage, but that particular apple tasted incredibly tart and bitter. It took all of his willpower not to scrunch his face as the tangy, sour flavor overcame his taste buds.
Liam was forced to stand for photographs with Madeleine before he could take a moment for himself. He didn't smile, but instead just started blankly into space past the camera. Madeleine was positioned at a slight angle in front of him and he made it a point to put as much space between them as he could and still get a 'natural’ looking portrait.
Once pictures were finished, Liam made a beeline for the bar and ordered himself a scotch on the rocks; he needed something to calm his dangerously high stress levels. As his drink was delivered to him, he felt a hand on his back. He turned around to find Drake. “How you holding up?”
“I’m not, Drake. I haven’t slept, I don’t want to be here. I need to be looking for them, for her; I have to find her.” Liam said before he downed his drink in one gulp and motioned to the bartender for another.
Drake stepped forward and signaled for a whiskey as the bartender refilled Liam’s glass. As he waited he addressed Liam. “I know this is hard on you especially. But, for now, you gotta just play along. Make ‘em think you’re really gonna go through with the wedding.”
“It's just around the corner. There's not a lot of time…”
“Don’t think about that. Right now, our focus is this investigation. We just need a little bit more to go off of, and we’re going to find it, Li. However, that means you gotta pretened to be a pretentious stick in the mud to appease all these ass wipes for a little bit…” Drake smirked as he took a sip from his drink and looked around the room.
Liam half-laughed. “I know you’re right. This is the best option, at least for now.” He shook his head and looked into his drink. “I’m just having a hard time being diplomatic when I know that someone very likely in this room is responsible for hurting the woman I love.”
Drake patted Liam on the back. “I know. But, just think, when all this is said and done and we figure out who did this, you’re gonna get to go full blown King on that mutherfucker! Goddamn I can’t wait for that!” Drake exclaimed with a huge smile on his face.
Liam laughed, for real this time. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy, even when I got you that international whiskey subscription for your birthday.”
“Man, I should order another one of those, that Hakushu Single Malt was to die for.” Drake responded as he took a drink of the whiskey in his hand, imagining it was the japanese liquor.
“Maybe when this is all said and done I can get you a whole case of that.” Liam chuckled when Drake’s eyes widened, but he soon sighed and looked out at the crowd in front of them. “I suppose I should circulate the room, pretend I want to be here. But thank you for lifting my spirits.”
“What I’m here for.” Drake replied as he lifted his glass to Liam, who returned the gesture and downed a large drink after. Liam shook his hand before he turned and made his way through the crowded room.
As he turned away, Liam saw some lesser nobles and the suitors he hadn’t chosen, minus Olivia, who was not yet joining the tour officially. At first glance, he noticed Lady Hana was not present. He was unsure if an invitation had been extended or not, but made a mental note to find out. He shook his head and looked away as he observed Penelope dabbing Madeleine’s mouth with a napkin. She trailed behind holding her drink, even going as far as bringing the glass to Madeleine's lips.
Liam continued through the room, stopping on occasion to shake a hand and exchange pleasantries. He spotted his Father and Regina as they glided throughout the ballroom together. Even though Constantine hadn’t been given much time to live, he insisted on being present throughout the tour. Liam told him he didn’t need to accompany them on the entire route, but Constantine was stubborn and was outside with everyone else when it was time for the motorcade to leave the capitol.
As Liam made his way to the other side of the room, he noticed Bertrand and Maxwell in a secluded alcove. Bertrand waved his finger in Maxwell’s face and Maxwell had his gaze trained to the floor in front of him. Bertrand’s body was turned slightly away from Liam, but he could still see his reddened face and it appeared he spoke so fast he hadn't even stopped for a breath.
Liam decided he needed to intervene and walked toward the pair. He cleared his throat as he approached them. Bertrand turned with wide eyes and bowed to Liam.
“Is everything alright?” Liam asked.
“Oh, yes, of course Your Majesty. We were just discussing House business.” Bertrand replied as he slid his eyes over to Maxwell with an irritated expression.
“That’s not what appeared to be happening. It looks as though you were once again berating Maxwell when I specifically told you to lay off of him.”
“I understand that. However, I learned today from a potential business partner that Maxwell left the estate when he should have been awaiting their call! We didn't secure that deal because he decided he had something more important to do!” Bertrand exasperated as he kept his steely gaze trained on Maxwell.
Maxwell finally looked up to meet eyes with Liam. Liam knew that Maxwell snuck away from the estate to meet Drake and Olivia before the tour started; he also knew that Maxwell had not told Bertrand about their investigation, per Liam's request. Instead, he continued to let Bertrand berate him and place blame on him for their houses' tanked reputation and financial crisis.
What Liam saw in Maxwell’s gaze was complete devastation, he knew judging from his defeated expression he was starting to break. And Liam couldn’t blame him, he had put up with Bertrand's rants daily for months.
Although Liam wasn’t entirely sure if he should, he couldn’t bear to watch his friend be torn down to nothing and let it happen; it was time to set Bertrand straight.
Bertrand began again. “He’s continuously shown his irresponsibility! You can’t pick a suitor, you can’t answer a phone, what can you do, then?! I am this close to–”
“Enough.” Liam said in a quiet but stern tone as he held up his hand to stop Bertrand from his tirade.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty, I forget myself–”
“No. You are not going to berate Maxwell any longer as if this is his fault: it is not. As far as him missing your 'important' phone call, I happen to know where he was and who he was with, and that meeting was far more important, I assure you.” Liam bit out.
Bertrand grew confused. “What? I don’t understand, what meeting? Why didn’t you tell me about this meeting?” He asked Maxwell.
“I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone…” Maxwell quietly answered, avoiding eye contact.
“What does that even mean?!”
Liam quickly looked behind him to the crowded ballroom and decided it was too risky to talk there. He motioned for Maxwell and Bertrand to follow him and led them down a hallway close by. He stopped at a nondescript door and ushered them inside.
As he faced them, Liam addressed Bertrand, specifically. “Duke Beaumont, I’d first off like to say that you should be ashamed of how you’ve treated Maxwell as of recent. Let's not forget, you didn’t even select a suitor to begin with.”
“With all due respect, Your Majesty–”
Liam held up his hand to stop him. “I’m not interested in your excuses, nor your apologies. Those are not meant for me, anyway.” Liam looked to Maxwell with a sad expression, then back to Bertrand. “I just wanted you to understand that your King is incredibly disappointed in your horrific behavior, which you had no reason for.”
“No reason?! Sir, I have every reason to be upset! Maxwell brought that… that… harlot here and she–”
“You are two seconds away from finding yourself in the cells. I know you don’t know the truth, but I’d advise you to watch your tone.” Liam hissed through clenched teeth.
“The truth? What truth is there to know? We all know what happened–”
“I have officially opened an investigation into Lady Riley’s disappearance.”
Bertrand’s eyes bulged from the sockets. “D-Disapperance?!”
Liam told Bertrand about what they had learned so far and where they were at with the investigation, as well as his suspicions of Riley being forced to leave. He told him about the shed they found, as well as the bloodied dress and letter inside.
When Liam was finished, he and Maxwell watched as Bertrand slowly walked over to a chair and sunk himself down into it. He clasped his hands together and stared in front of him for a long while. Liam and Maxwell didn’t say a word, just observed as a plethora of emotions crossed Bertrand’s features.
Finally, Bertrand spoke. He kept his gaze to the floor in front of him, “So… she was set up?” he whispered.
“We believe so, yes.” Liam answered.
Bertrand broke into sobs. Maxwell quickly crossed the room and crouched in front of Bertrand. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but we’re going to figure this out! We’re going to fix this!” Maxwell promised him as tears of his own streamed down his face.
Bertrand shook his head and looked away from Maxwell. “While I’m upset she was set up, I’m mostly ashamed of how I’ve treated you since... I’ve blamed you and berated you this whole time, and you were never at fault. You never once challenged me in all the atrocious things I said about you, you just… allowed me to do it…” He tried to swallow the overwhelming lump in his throat and quietly asked, “Did you know about Lady Riley? This whole time?”
Maxwell shook his head and quietly responded, “I only found out before the tour, although I will admit I didn’t know when I snuck out.” He looked away. “I had my doubts about it though… But you were so mad at me and I didn’t want to make it worse.”
“Maxwell… I-I’m so sorry...” Bertrand shook his head as more tears flowed down his cheeks. “You didn’t deserve any of that treatment. I can’t believe I’ve acted this way…”
Maxwell inched closer. “It’s okay, Bertrand!”
“No, it’s not okay. I treated you so… maliciously, as if you weren’t my own flesh and blood.” Bertrand wiped at his cheeks and looked Maxwell directly in the eye. “I’ll never forgive myself.”
Maxwell leaned forward and embraced Bertrand; he squeezed him as tight as he could. Even though Maxwell was still indeed hurt from Bertrand’s harsh words, he didn’t want to see him beat himself up over it. All he wanted to do was to move forward and put this entire mess behind them. Ultimately, all Maxwell wanted was to clear his best friend’s name and bring her home to make the family complete again.
“I love you Bertrand, and if I forgive you, you have to forgive yourself. You’ve been under so much pressure since Dad got sick, and I know I’ve always added to your problems. And then to lose our suitor at the very end of the season…” Maxwell took a deep breath to steady himself and continued. “You were under a lot of stress, and it was technically my fault for bringing her here to begin with, so…”
“No.” Bertrand firmly said as he pulled himself from Maxwell’s embrace, “You are not to blame here whatsoever Maxwell… In fact, I may be more at fault here than you..." He took a deep breath and quietly said, "I – I'm afraid I may need to come clean about something…"
Maxwell immediately moved and stood next to Liam with a furrowed brow. Liam felt his heart rate increase and stepped forward instantly. "What do you mean?"
"I – I worry you may find out anyway during your investigation, and I feel after my other atrocious actions I may as well come clean and take my punishment."
Bertrand was suddenly yanked up from his seat by Liam's strong hands. Liam held Bertrand by the collar of his sweater and pulled his face to eye level, nearly lifting him off his feet. "What did you do?"
Maxwell stepped forward to intervene, but Bertrand held a hand out to stop him. As he spoke, his eyes never left Liam's steely gaze. "Don't. I deserve whatever may come." He took a deep breath and told them about going through Maxwell’s phone and selling the photos from Liam's bachelor party. Bertrand realized if Liam found out on his own, his fate would be ten times worse than whatever he would be facing now. To hopefully spare himself, he was willing to come clean.
The longer Bertrand spoke, the more Maxwell's shock intensified; he couldn't believe Bertrand stooped so low. Liam saw red; he yanked Bertrand closer and growled, "You fucking snake."
"I understand your anger, sir–"
"Did you do it? Did you set her up?" Liam slightly shook Bertrand. "Did you force her to leave?!"
Bertrand's eyes widened once more. "No! My indiscretions were toward the beginning of the social season, and I changed my view on her! I believed in her until–"
"Why? Why do it then?!" Liam shook Bertrand harder, audibly tearing his vest in the process, but Liam was quick to bunch up more fabric to keep his hold intact.
"I assumed she wouldn't last and I was desperate for the money." Bertrand quickly spat out.
"So you not only sold your suitor out, but you sold me out as well? For profit?" Bertrand didn't respond, only nodded his head with shame etched in his features.
At that moment, every single thing that happened over the past couple of days combined with this newly added betrayal sent Liam overboard. He tightened his grip on Bertrand’s vest and pulled, ripping it down the middle with ease and leaving it dangling like the jacket over it. Bertrand stumbled backwards but was given no time to react before a fist connected with his jaw, the popping sound echoing throughout the room. Bertrand dropped to the floor with a yelp cradling his face as he frantically prepared himself for the next blow. Maxwell wanted to help, but he was frozen in fear at seeing the look of pure rage in Liam's features.
Liam stared down at Bertrand through narrowed eyes with heavy breaths. "Your actions are making me question whether or not you are truly fit for the title of Duke. To not only exploit your suitor, but your future King?" He stalked toward Bertrand, who was scooting backward across the floor.
The moment was interrupted by a stern knock. Without notice the door swung open and Bastien rushed inside. He quickly approached Liam and said, “Sir, we need to get you to the safe room, now.” and placed his hand on him to begin leading him away.
“What, why?!” Liam questioned as he attempted to evade Bastien’s grip.
“There’s been a body found.”
Liam forcefully stomped his feet on the ground. “What?! Do you know who it was? What happened?”
“Sir, I don’t know a lot of information right now, but I have to get you to safety before I can go secure the area.”
“Where was it?”
Bastien remained silent for a long moment. He looked as if he didn’t want to answer, but once he saw Liam’s budding impatience he finally spoke. “The west grounds, sir.”
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While Liam was locked away in the guarded safe room with Madeleine, her parents, Constantine and Regina, Olivia and Drake were on their way to examine the crime scene with Bastien. The royal family had a secured area inside all the major estates for this purpose, although houses were available nearby. However, those were only used in drastic scenarios such as terrorist threats or assassination attempts. Since there was no signs someone was attempting to target the nobility, Bastien assured them they would be safe there while he and the guard did an initial investigation.
Olivia was not yet ready to join the tour on an official standpoint. She knew the time would come when she would have to, but right now she was only stalking in the shadows looking for any kind of information. Only a select few knew of her presence and she intended to keep it that way until absolutely necessary.
Olivia went back and searched Riley’s room again to ensure nothing was missed and returned to the shed to retrieve the contaminated dress. As her initial shock faded, she realized that was a prominent clue laying right in front of their faces. She went back and grabbed the article at the start of the Apple Banquet while everyone was distracted. She intended to give the item to Bastien, but when he found her and informed her of the crime committed she sprung into action and followed along, the dress momentarily forgotten.
As they walked along the path she immediately realized where they were headed; the shed she had visited just a few hours prior where Riley's things were hidden. From the front, everything appeared as it was when Olivia visited the area. Her anxiety increased as Bastien approached the structure, but he veered to the left and led them to the back, which she was nowhere near during her earlier venture.
Guards scoured all around, some people in lab coats were taking pictures, multiple evidence markers lay on the ground near the area. As her eyes searched over the vicinity, she couldn’t help but feel like it seemed incredibly – tame, for what she was guessing had happened.
Propped against the back wall of the shed was a lifeless body. Upon first glance, the cause of death was undoubtedly clear; the victim's throat had been slashed nearly from ear to ear. Olivia grew up around weapons and knew exactly what kind of damage her skills could do. As she gazed upon the gruesome gash, she immediately knew that wound was deep and absolutely intentional; whoever did this did not hesitate whatsoever. Furthermore, the face was severely battered; both eyes were swollen shut and painted every shade of black, as well as a severely broken nose. She stared at the battered face for only a moment before a small gasp escaped Olivia as recognition swept over her; it was the maid they had spoken with only a few days prior.
Olivia’s widened eyes traveled down the body and she was unable to tell if there could be more wounds on the maid’s chest and abdomen, or if the coat of blood was due to her fatal injury. However, that’s where Olivia’s suspicions sky rocketed; the body was covered in a heavy layer of blood, but the ground around her had nothing.
“Walker, come here.” Olivia beckoned. Drake walked over to her with furrowed brows as Olivia stood. “Tell me I’m crazy, but there’s absolutely no blood around that body.”
“Huh…” Drake answered as he looked around. “You’re right. Hey Bas!” He hollered over his shoulder. Bastien appeared within an instant with a pen and pad in hand. “Have you noticed how there’s no blood here?”
“Hmm…” Bastien glanced down at the area with an unreadable expression before he nodded and wrote something down. “I’ve added it to my notes. Do be sure to let me know if you notice anything else. The more information we have, the sooner we can find an answer.”
“Are we just going to ignore the gigantic elephant in the room?" Olivia motioned to the shed. “This is no coincidence. Who this is, where she’s at, the fact that I'm certain this body was placed here specifically…”
Drake’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Holy shit–”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “I’m going to start charging if I have to keep spelling everything out for you.”
Bastien spoke before Drake could retort, “I hadn’t made that connection; excellent work Duchess.”
Olivia raised an eyebrow and watched Bastien jot something yet again on his pad. “Okay, him I understand needing a preschool explanation, you on the other hand should’ve made that connection instantly.” She snapped as she continued to eye him critically.
Bastien was slightly taken back, but quickly recovered himself. “I understand your frustration. However, I’m becoming aware of developments at the same rate as you. I’m grateful for your assistance.” He bowed to her. As he stood he addressed the pair, “I’m going to secure the perimeter.”
Olivia watched him leave with narrowed eyes. He went over to a guard and spoke quietly then aimlessly walked around the area. Every now and again he would write something down, but otherwise he only made laps. She knew Bastien was senseless at times, but he almost seemed more so than normal.
For the first time, she took a good look around and again couldn’t help but notice how everything seemed conveniently placed. The yellow evidence markers were almost in a straight line in clustered areas. She approached one and bent down to observe and saw it was a wad of hair; not one single hair, a bunched up ball of long, dark hair. Another was simply a piece of gum; she was no criminal mastermind, but who in their right mind would spit their gum out in the middle of a vicious murder? Of course, it’s possible to be unrelated, but this area was practically of no use; that is until Riley’s things were shoved here. Regardless, Bastien still continued to search the area as if this was a normal crime scene and nothing was amiss.
As she scanned the area, the sudden realization of what was going on on a broader spectrum hit her; whoever orchestrated getting Madeleine on the throne was surely onto the fact that they were now asking questions. It was a silent agreement that whoever managed to remove the top two suitors from the social season was a powerful force, but it suddenly seemed much stronger and deadlier than before. This entire scene was pieced together to send a message; someone knew, and whoever it was was not happy about their venture for answers.
Olivia pulled Drake aside and spoke in a low, cautious tone. “We need to get out of here.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Look around, Drake! Even you have to notice something does not add up! This was fucking staged – someone is trying to send us a message.”
“We gotta tell Bas–”
“Why? So he can write it down?” Olivia rolled her eyes. “We need to plan our next steps… our next move has to be calculated.” She looked around with a nervous expression. As she did, her eyes landed on Bastien who simply nodded and returned to his grazing.
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Tags (please let me know if you'd like added or removed): @choicesficwriterscreations @ao719 @txemrn @imashybish @queenrileyrose @kingliam2019 @riseandshinelittleblossom @dcbbw @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @amandablink @cordonia-gothqueen @sfb123 @jared2612 @harleybeaumont @bebepac @charlotteg234 @busywoman @malblk21 @angelasscribbles @bascmve01 @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @mysticalfangirl @umccall71 @fuckitweball0000 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @lovingchoices14 @emersyn-in-cordonia @aussiegurl1234 @karahalloway @the0afnan
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dutifullynuttywitch · 1 month
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Replaying TRR but romancing Drake this time around. I am here for the cynical, sarcastic guy with a fluffy marshmallow heart 🥰 but also, what does he do all day at court?!
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redrobinbutnot · 1 year
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Tim is the kind of guy who would sing Good 4 You at the top of his lungs while driving even though he’s been in a perfectly healthy relationship for 2 years.
…And Kon would do the air guitar thing next to him
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ezzasaurus · 1 year
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No cos now I need the GK kids at cons as well
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fadingreveries · 27 days
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The Royal Romance Retelling Masterlist
Series Summary: In this novel-style retelling of TRR, beloved scenes with original commentary from the Choices stories including your favourite group of royals and friends will be expanded upon. Contains extended commentary and scenes from the original story, in-depth descriptions of bonus scenes, and premium choices and outfits.
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The Royal Romance, Book 1 🏰 - Bk1 Ch1: Once Upon a Time (part 1/part 2/part 3/part 4/part 5/part 6/part 7) - Bk1 Ch2: Welcome to Cordonia - Bk1 Ch3: Reunited
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queenrileyrose · 8 months
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Gonna Leave You Anyway Part Five: We Move Like a Bad Scene
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Series Premise: Riley and Leo meet at the wedding of a mutual friend. A one night stand turns into more, despite their better judgment.
This is based on You’re the Worst, some lines and scenes are from the show.
Some canon, some not. Most TRR/RoE characters are messy versions of canon characters.
Francesco Mancini belongs to me, all other characters belong to Pixelberry.
A/N: it’s been 84 years, but these guys are back! I’m in the process of moving (the movers are literally at my house right now) but I’ll update fics when I have the time. I hope to be back to my regular schedule soon. 💕
Catch Up Here
Book: RoE/TRR
Rating: T
Pairings: Leo x Riley, Bertrand x Madeleine
TW: Language, sensuality, crude conversation
Music Inspo: oh baby-LCD Soundsystem
Word Count: 3036
Thank you to everyone who reads, likes, comments, and/or reblogs this. I appreciate it so much. ❤️
Riley leaned back against the soft headboard, Leo’s phone in her hands as she scrolled pictagram.
“Why do you need my phone to do this?” Leo struggled into a sitting position, the sheet draped loosely across his waist. 
“Because Madeleine blocked me from Bertrand’s account,” Riley snickered at a photo of Bertrand making his signature beverage for a Beaumont bash. “Damn. I miss trash juice.”
“It’s just sangria in a garbage can,” Leo scooted next to her, his head resting on hers. “I only accepted his friend request so you could snoop. It’s been sitting there for over a year.”
“Oh fuck, are those handcuffs on the nightstand?” Riley pinched her fingers together to zoom in on a photo of Bertrand carrying Madeleine over his shoulder into their bedroom. “How very vanilla of them.”
“Madeleine isn’t the one wearing them,” Leo guffawed. “I still can’t believe she had the audacity to wear white.”
“Right?” Riley swiped down, accidentally double tapping and liking a photo. 
Leo saw the heart on the screen; panic flooded his chest as he bolted upright. “Fuck no! Undo it!”
Riley tapped quickly, and the heart disappeared. “He totally didn’t notice.”
“He better not have,” Leo sighed and slid back down in the bed. “What’s on your agenda today?”
“I have a new assistant to train,” Riley tossed Leo’s phone on the nightstand. “I also have dinner with Francesco. I can come over after.”
“No, thank you,” Leo grimaced. “I don’t want to smell Italian Old Spice on my sheets. He probably recites poetry while he’s inside you.”
“Nah, just hot stuff about my vagina in Italian,” Riley shrugged, leaving out the intense eye contact. She was ending things with Francesco, but wasn’t telling Leo that yet. It wasn’t for him. She was just tired of that whole arrangement. “What about you?”
“Figa,” Leo muttered. Riley blinked, taken aback by his perfect accent. 
“I have an interview with Victoria Fontaine,” Leo scowled. “It should be fun, even if I have to go over to the West side.”
Riley and Leo shuddered. 
“She’s super bangable,” Riley swung her legs out of bed and retrieved a pair of black shorts from across the room. “She’s definitely in your spank bank.”
“From the sound of that, she’s in yours too,” Leo countered. Riley wasn’t wrong. Victoria Fontaine was beautiful and bitchy. Two of his weaknesses.
“So?” Riley pulled a black t-shirt over her head. “I’m equal opportunity. I like all people. You don’t?”
“Just women,” Leo pushed the sheet down. He looked for his shorts before realizing Riley had them on. He pulled a pair of sweatpants from the dresser and sat on the edge of the bed. “But yeah, she’s hot.”
“Oo, is Leo going to try to sleep with her?” Riley pushed his shoulder playfully. “Dream big, buddy.”
“Why not?” Leo stood, adjusting the waistband. He’d been kidding, but if Riley thought he couldn’t, he was definitely going to prove he could. “We aren’t together. I could; I am a catch.”
“If you can pull that off, good for you,” Riley shrugged, acting unaffected by Leo talking about sleeping with someone else. She felt something in the pit of her stomach and ignored it. “Text me about it.”
Leo’s eyebrows raised. “Really?”
“Why not?” Riley plastered a smile on her face.
“Drake is making me breakfast pizza. I better get up there.”
Riley grabbed Leo’s face and pulled it to hers, kissing him passionately. That’d give him something to think about when he was interviewing Victoria.
———
Leo cleared his throat and double-checked his notes. He glanced around the bar; definitely a dive. It reeked of stale beer and peanuts, although the booth he occupied was exceptionally clean. 
“So, Ms. Fontaine,” Leo gave his companion a winning smile. “In the last five years, you’ve made out with a mannequin of Lenin, gotten kicked off a movie by a nobody, and started mentoring young actresses. What piece of wisdom do you think is most important for aspiring actors to know?”
Victoria blinked a few times before brushing her long blonde hair over one shoulder. “First, that off the record is the most important phrase to know and use.”
Leo jotted a few words in his notebook. “Second?”
Victoria leaned in; her lotus blossom perfume made Leo fight a sneeze. “When an attractive man acts like an asshole, he is, in fact, an asshole.”
“What, for the question?” Leo asked. “That’s the magazines’. I had a different one.”
“By all means,” Victoria gestured for him to continue. 
“The Warmest Winter has been called unwatchable, but it’s my favorite film,” Leo said after a moment's hesitation. “The scene of you and Cassandra in the snow, when she tells you about her husband. I cried real tears.”
“That’s my favorite scene of all time,” Victoria put a hand on Leo’s arm. He stopped himself from flinching just in time. What was wrong with him? “The part after, when we’re in the bathtub. That was all real.”
“You really had sex?” Leo gaped.
Victoria leaned in and nodded. “Cassandra and I spoke about it before and decided to make the scene the best it could be.”
“My question was if you regretted making it, but that’s been answered,” Leo smirked, subtly adjusting himself by moving over in the booth.
“Does your girlfriend like that movie?” Victoria asked innocently.
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Leo said. “I’m sleeping with one woman, but we aren’t together.”
Riley said that all the time. Leo was getting increasingly irritated by it. But, if he could use it to his advantage now, it might work in his favor.
“All girls say that,” Victoria argued. “She’s trying to act cool.”
“Nah, she’s different,” Leo smirked. “In fact, she said if I could pull off sleeping with you, good for me.”
Victoria eyed Leo warily. He was handsome, and he certainly knew it. She mentally ran over her schedule for the day. She had a few hours. Why not?
Victoria signaled for another round. “We need to drink more.” 
———
Riley studied the woman who stood on the other side of her desk. She was tall and thin, her scarlet hair in a tight bun. Her red nails were long and pointy, and her green eyes were fierce.
It took balls to wear a dress the same color as your hair. Some people looked like a weird crayon. Not Olivia. 
Riley was a little scared of her. Maybe she needed a different assistant. 
“How’d you get into this kind of work?” Riley asked. “Your application had armorer as your last job. I had to look that one up.”
“My ex was into weapons. So was I.” Olivia sank into the chair Riley indicated. “He joined a militia and wanted to move to Nevada. I stayed here and decided to get into public relations.”
“Dude,” Riley remembered a news article she’d seen about a militia compound in Nevada. The old leader had been ousted by someone new. He was making threats, and the FBI was involved. “It’s not Anton Severus?”
Olivia pressed her lips together and nodded. 
“Yikes. Dodged that bullet. This job is going to be good for you,” Riley stood. “First order of business, my fridge is empty.”
Olivia looked at the small white appliance to the side of Riley’s desk. “You need what, exactly?”
“Diet Coke me, Liv!” Riley flopped into her leather executive chair. “Do you know Italian?”
“Yes,” Olivia folded her arms. “Is that important?”
“Yes! We’ll talk about it when you get back.”
Olivia nodded and left the office. She was having second thoughts about choosing this over Anton. She dismissed the thought. No, Anton wanted her to live underground and eat freeze-dried food. No matter what Riley made her do, it wouldn’t be that bad.
“You want me to dump your boyfriend for you?” Olivia couldn’t help but smirk. 
“He is so not my boyfriend,” Riley shuddered. “We’re going to do it in Italian, okay? That’s how he’ll know I am serious.”
Olivia took a seat on the hard gray couch. “Number?”
Riley rattled it off, and Olivia dialed, putting the call on speaker. 
“Ciao amore mio,” Francesco crooned. “Are you on your way?”
Olivia fought not to grimace. She didn’t know this man, and he was already making her sick to her stomach.
“Erm,” Oliva tried to remember the word for break. “Ti sto lavando.”
Francesco chuckled. “We can do that later, in the bath.”
Riley rolled her eyes. She had to do everything herself. Francesco didn’t even catch that she wasn’t the one on the phone.
“Frankie,” Riley dropped her chin into her hand. “I’m not coming over. This was fun, and I’ll miss all the feelings talks, but we’re done.”
“You say this every six weeks,” Francesco said indulgently. “Why have you decided we are through this time?”
Riley bristled at his patronizing tone. Francesco wasn’t wrong, but unlike the other times she’d dumped him, this felt different. Everything about him made her stomach twist in a bad way. 
“It’s permanent this time,” Riley winced, hoping Francesco wouldn’t say that she always said that. In her defense, she said it was different, not permanent. Then she’d sleep with men who couldn’t get her off, and she’d wonder why she gave up Francesco and call him up the second she got drunk. “You want more, and I don’t.”
“Bella,” Francesco sounded less relaxed, his voice tighter. “You are worrying me.”
“Don’t do that,” Riley massaged her temple. She needed this call to be over. “It’s run its course, right?”
Francesco burst into loud, snotty tears. Olivia’s mouth dropped open, and Riley gestured that it was okay for her to leave. Olivia almost twisted her heel as she fled, hoping she never had to deal with Francesco again.
Riley closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She tried to figure out how to play this so Francesco would stop crying and she could go about her day. At least she hadn’t done it in person. 
“You’ll meet someone so much nicer than me,” Riley began. “I’m a mess! I don’t have a house; I eat mostly garbage. You deserve better than me.”
Francesco’s wail hit a new pitch as he tried to say something Riley couldn’t make out.
Riley ignored the sting behind her eyes. Sure, she didn’t want to marry Francesco, or be with him forever. But it hurt when the words she was saying felt true. Like Francesco did deserve better than her. Like she wasn’t enough.
“Fuck,” Riley muttered and shook her head. She covered the mouthpiece of the phone. “I am awesome. He gives me the ick now, and that’s fine! He’ll find someone else.”
Riley uncovered the phone. “Gotta go, Frankie. Feel better.”
Riley dropped the phone back in the cradle and leaned back in her chair. She checked her cell. The last text was from Leo a few hours ago; he and Victoria had been doing shots at a dive bar.
“Maybe she’ll teach him something new,” Riley shrugged, refusing to acknowledge the pit in her stomach. “His moves are old.”
———
Drake slammed the front door with his shoulder, hefting the full bags of groceries into the kitchen. He paused, swearing he heard a voice come from downstairs. 
He shook his head, sure he was hearing things. Drake unloaded the broccoli, eggplant, corn, tomatoes, and peppers into the appropriate containers in the pantry. Riley helped him organize last week. He pushed the lamb and beef into the freezer.
Drake heard the noise again; it sounded like a small dog yapping. He washed his hands quickly and crept down the stairs.
The noises increased in volume, and Drake realized it was Leo. His lip curled at the corner, about to head back upstairs, when he heard another voice. 
“I’ve never heard a man make that noise before,” a female voice snapped. 
Drake covered his mouth with his hand, muffling the gasp. That was not Riley.
“You bit my tip!” Leo said in a pained retort. “Fuck.”
“You’re too delicate,” The woman laughed. “I’m going to take a rain check; the moment has passed.”
“You can say that again,” Leo agreed quickly. 
Drake heard footsteps and scrambled up the stairs, almost tripping at the top. He was seething; he couldn’t believe Leo cheated on Riley.
Drake slipped onto the patio and pulled out his phone, tapping in a number from memory.
———
Leo hissed as he settled a bag of frozen peas in his groin. “That was not cool. Who bites like that?”
Drake paused, then continued to furiously scrub the counter with a sponge. “I bet Riley doesn’t.”
Leo’s ears perked up. “Huh?”
“How could you?” Drake exploded. He stalked from the kitchen to the couch, chest heaving. “You finally find a woman you click with, who’s nice and funny, and you screw it up!”
“Whoa,” Leo held up his hands, accidentally dropping the bag. “Fuck! It was her idea! We aren’t exclusive!”
Drake’s shoulders relaxed the smallest amount. “You say that, but what if Riley was out sleeping with someone else right now?”
Leo shrugged, but Drake saw the flicker of jealousy. “She probably is. She had a date with Francesco.”
“We both know she can’t really stand him,” Drake challenged. “You don’t fool me, either of you.”
The front door banged open, and Riley stomped into the room. Drake cleared his throat, and she rolled her eyes before removing her ankle boots and tossing them in the direction of the entryway.
“Dude!” Riley tried to keep her face straight but couldn’t help but giggle. “Victoria Fontaine is all over Tweeter, talking about how she made you bleed!”
“She did not,” Leo scowled and reached for his phone on the coffee table. He opened the app, his eyebrows raising. “I have four hundred notifications.”
Drake peered over Riley’s shoulder as she scrolled. “She said you’re all bark and no bite. That noise you made makes that true.”
“Leo barked?” Riley snickered before patting Drake's shoulder comfortingly. “Sorry, bud.”
“I thought you had to see Francesco,” Leo muttered as he closed the app. He didn’t need to see people making fun of him. Leo swore Victoria filed her teeth into sharp points. That hadn’t felt normal.
“Nah,” Riley fought to keep her expression neutral. “I dumped him earlier.”
Drake backed into the kitchen silently.
“Why?” Leo frowned, hiding how happy those four words made him.
“He’s too clingy,” Riley dropped to the sofa, moving Leo’s feet into her lap. “It was getting boring.”
“Does that mean I have to stop fucking other people?” Leo wrinkled his nose. He wasn’t sleeping with anyone else. Even if Victoria hadn’t bitten him, Leo knew he wouldn’t have gone through with it. He wasn’t prepared to follow that line of thinking right now. 
Leo shifted uncomfortably. He hoped Victoria was up to date on her shots. 
“Like who?” Riley swiveled her head to lean against the sofa, glancing at Leo.
“I didn’t mean anyone specific,” Leo said quickly. “But is that off the table now?”
Riley rolled her eyes and sighed. “Why? Because I’m not sleeping with Frankie anymore? I don’t see how that changes things.”
Riley kept the smirk on her lips, ignoring how her stomach plummeted. She wondered if Leo held other women’s hands above their heads, interlacing their fingers, whispering exactly what he was going to do before-
No. Riley refused to go down that road. Why was Leo screwing everything up? 
“Maybe,” Leo said slowly. “We should be exclusive?”
Riley snorted, relieved Leo was making a joke. “Sure, bro.”
“I’m not being sarcastic,” Leo winced. “I think we should be. Or I could go out, get sympathy for my sore dick.”
Leo hid a smile as Riley’s shoulders tensed. She shook her head, trying to organize her thoughts. Sure, Leo was fun to be around. She was at his house more often than she was at her place. Their conversations always flowed easily; he never made her feel stupid or less than. 
Maybe she could be exclusive with Leo. But hell if she wasn’t going to make him work for it.
“You can’t handle me sleeping with anyone else,” Riley slid over and poked the center of Leo’s chest. “Admit it!”
“If that’s what you need to hear,” Leo rolled his eyes. “Fine! I don’t like the thought of anyone else with you like that!”
“You’re adorable when you’re jealous,” Riley sighed happily. “Okay. We can be exclusive.”
They grinned at each other, each feeling satisfied with the decision.
Leo’s phone vibrated, and he scowled before answering it. “What, Bertrand? Did Madeleine make you a creature of the night?”
Riley guffawed, and Leo nudged her with his foot.
“No, man,” Bertrand sounded ecstatic. “I saw the love this morning, and I gotta say, I’m so glad you appreciate my online presence.”
“Your what?” Leo’s nose scrunched as he remembered Riley accidentally liking a photo earlier. Dammit. He knew she hadn’t unliked it fast enough. “Oh. Sure.”
“I, for one am pumped your bro is coming into town!” Bertrand continued. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen the fam bam! They couldn’t come to the wedding on account of the business but-“
Leo hung up. “Drake!”
Drake poked his head out of the kitchen. “Huh?”
“Why does Bertrand think my family is coming to visit?” Leo held his breath. It couldn’t be true. He wasn’t sure how close Drake and Liam were; he didn’t ask. He also didn’t speak to Liam if he could help it.
“Maybe because I invited them to teach you a lesson,” Drake said timidly. “I thought you cheated on Riley, and I made a call.”
“Drake!” Riley leapt from the couch, jostling Leo’s legs as she rose, wrapping her arms around Drake’s midsection. “You defended me!”
“Of course,” Drake smiled awkwardly. “You gave me cheese.”
“I didn’t cheat!” Leo exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “I can’t believe this!”
“They won’t be here for two days,” Drake said defiantly. “They’re excited to see you.”
Leo slumped against the couch. His phone vibrated with a text. 
Liam: Can’t wait to catch up, big brother.
———
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