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destroy-the-cannon · 3 years

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Chapter Three: A Detestable Obsession

Hello hello hello! This week’s chapter is exciting because it’s in Olivia’s POV this time. I’ve decided that I’m going to alternate it from now on, which I think was the best choice. I was hoping to be able to get to the derby and really get things going, but I had to cover a bit of backstory, the masquerade from Olivia’s perspective. I think it’s a good one this week!

Taglist: @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @kingliam2019 @cordonian-literature @kamilahsayeet2063

Story Tags: Eventual lemon, sexual tension, enemies to lovers, slow burn, idiots to lovers, weapon loving women, woman loving woman.

Story Warnings: Swearing.

Olivia let out a long sigh as she wiped the last of her makeup off. She started on pulling out the million little pins from her hair, dropping them into the dish on her counter. She was absolutely exhausted, and not nearly as satisfied as she’d hoped to be.

I’m sorry, Olivia. I don’t want to hurt you.

I’m Lady Paige Langley.

She let out a frustrated growl as the events of the night played in her mind. Too many surprises had popped up at once, and she felt knocked off balance. She had swaggered into court with a loud look-at-me kind of confidence that made the weaker girls tremble, and she had left looking no more impressive than a deflated balloon.

I’m sorry, Olivia. I don’t want to hurt you.

Her time with Liam had started out fine. She had grown up with the man, so of course she knew how to work him. Coy smile, low laugh, dart the gaze towards his lips. She had popped out her hip and chest and watched how his eyes fell predictably to her cleavage before moving quickly away. He’d been stuttering like an idiot, which she’d taken to mean that he was liking what he saw. Until, that is, he finally stilled, ending the fidgeting and stuttering. Instantly, she knew that something was off. She had seen that look on his face before, and she knew what it meant for her.

“Olivia, listen-”

“Liam, l-”

“No. Please, this needs to be said.” She hated the way he squared his jaw and finally, finally held her eye. He had made up his mind on whatever he had been struggling with.

“Olivia. You know how much I care about you, and I’m glad you’re here, but this isn’t what I want. With you. If you prove to be the best candidate, then of course I’ll choose you, but I would be choosing you as a queen, not as a wife. I say this now because I don’t want…” He paused.

“I don’t want you to look back on this ten years from now and feel betrayed. Or like I led you on. You’re my friend, and you always will be, but I just don’t feel anything more for you.”

He might as well have put a goddamn knife through her chest. He wasn’t subtle, or vague, or wishy-washy. He had essentially just told her that he never loved her and didn’t think that he ever would. They were barely half an hour into the ball, and already it was completely ruined. She hunched her shoulders, feeling suddenly too exposed in the night air.

“Is there someone else?” It was a last, desperate attempt to regain control of the situation, and they both knew it. There was a horde of other women on the other side of the palace doors, each one more eligible than the last. But this was personal. This was him saying wasn’t him saying that Olivia Vanderwall Nevrakis, Duchess of Lythikos, wouldn’t make a good queen. This was him saying that Olivia, just Olivia, wouldn’t make a good wife. But maybe someone else would.

“Whether or not there is someone else, my feelings remain the same.”

“You didn’t answer the question.” He started fidgeting again, but she stopped him with a look.

“You owe me that much, at least.” Liam stopped and nodded hesitantly.

“You’re right. The truth is, there might be. I don’t know if she feels the same way, but I…” A ghost of a smile appeared on his face, and Olivia’s heart squeezed painfully.

“She’s got something about her that’s just so... different. Incredible. She’s smart, and ridiculously strong, and-” He stopped when he noticed her expression. He cleared his throat and looked away bashfully.

“Sorry. Wrong audience, I know.” Olivia sighed and tilted her face up towards the stars. The moon was nothing but a sliver in the sky. “I should go. Your time with me is running long.”

She turned to go back in. Just before she closed the door behind her, she heard him call it over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Olivia. I don’t want to hurt you.” She clenched her jaw and pulled the door shut behind her, leaving him alone in the cold air.

I’m Lady Paige Langley.

Olivia was sipping on champagne when she heard the herald announce the new girl. She didn’t bother to look up from her drink, even as the gasps and murmurs echoed through the room. Whispers of envy and shock flitted around her head like butterflies.

Hm. Must be a pretty one. The girl was announced with Maxwell Beaumont, so she must’ve been his date, some pretty little nobody he’d fallen for in a bar somewhere.

Sighing, Olivia swirled her glass absentmindedly, watching to see what the old fixtures of these types of events were doing. It was the same as always: Drake was in a corner practically snogging a glass of whiskey he’d managed to scrounge up, Hana was making polite conversation with an old, half-dead looking duke, and Kiara and Penelope were whispering together in a corner.

After her conversation with Liam, Olivia barely had the energy to stand from her chair, let alone walk about the room and mingle. She downed the last of her drink in one quick gulp, hoping it would give her the strength she needed. All she had to do was keep a low profile, do some eavesdropping, and introduce herself to the newbie. Should be easy enough. She adjusted her dress and pasted on an enticing smile, scanning the room for a figure she couldn’t recognize.

She spotted her target, a dark-haired woman in the corner talking to Drake. From the look on his face, she must have been chewing him out over something. She wore the angel outfit that went with Olivia’s devil costume. Interesting.

She came up behind the woman (Paige, wasn’t it? Olivia couldn’t quite remember how she’d been announced) and stood for a moment, waiting to catch Drake’s eye. It was always funny to watch him notice her: his features would go big and frozen, like he’d just seen a ghost. He seemed strangely wrapped up in his conversation with the girl, though, so Olivia took another step forward.

“Pardon me, but I must steal her away.” She shot a devious grin his way as Drake finally reacted, vague panic spreading on his face.

“Um, I’ll just…” He flew towards the bar. As soon as he was gone, the girl spun around to face Olivia.

In retrospect, the duchess didn’t really know what she’d been expecting. Some seemingly overwhelmed goody-good, maybe, excited to spend a night in the one and only royal palace. One of the girls Maxwell would bring in to these events and then probably never see again, a girl who wouldn’t have the guts to compete. A lost little calf, marveling at how the other half lived.

But that’s not what Olivia saw. The woman before her was no delicate little thing, as she’d expected. She had a kind of roughness, grit, that the other nobles there could never even dream of knowing. Kario akys, they said in Lythikos. Warrior’s eyes.

Her eyes travelled the rest of the woman’s shape. God, she was gorgeous, almost infuriatingly so. For a moment, Olivia said nothing. What could she say? Her usual fear tactics weren’t going to work on someone like this. She had been counting on Paige being a meek commoner, terrified to stand up for herself. But this woman clearly wasn’t going to take any bullshit. Even in a lacy angel outfit, she stood like a fighter, just the sort of stance that made Olivia’s heart hammer. She started to speak, her voice a low tone.

“I am Lady Olivia Vanderwall Nevrakis, Duchess of Lythikos.”

“I’m-”

“Lady Paige Langley. Yes, that’s right. That’s why I’m here.” As soon as the other woman spoke, the trance was broken. Olivia shook her head slightly, trying to regain control of the situation. She searched for something she could do to fix that, something she could say-

It came to her. She chatted idly for a minute or so, making sure that the girl really was planning on entering the race, before planting the bomb:

“When you go to meet the king, here’s what you’ll do…”

* * *

Finally, Olivia pulled the last pin free from her head. Her crimson hair pooled around her shoulders as she shook it out, the riot of color a sharp contrast against her pale skin. She paused a moment to stare into the bathroom mirror, trying to anchor herself somehow. Her face was completely free of makeup, and she wore only her pyjamas and a silk robe. Just yesterday, she had been so sure of herself, positive she was better than everyone there. But the face staring back at her seemed so fragile and lost that it surprised her a little. Maybe even worried her. She had no friends here anymore, and she’d ruined her chances of making an ally of Paige. She was alone again, and only in the solitude of her room could she admit how much that was starting to frighten her.

Or maybe she couldn’t. Not yet, anyway. She let out a groan as she straightened, banishing her doubts from her mind. The derby was tomorrow, and that was where her most important obstacle lay: the queen. The queen was really more important than the king, in a few ways. If she didn’t approve of you, she would let you know. It would become impossible to win unless you somehow made it up to her, which, seeing how stubborn she tended to be, was quite the challenge. A few of the girls would probably even drop out, which meant that the competition would be growing that much smaller.

Climbing into bed, Olivia reviewed her mental checklist. She had an appointment at the boutique scheduled for tomorrow morning, an alarm set so she’d wake up in time, a period to do her makeup, some time for breakfast…

She yawned as exhaustion settled on her bones like a heavy blanket. Turning off her lamp, she tossed over in bed, trying to use her last moments of consciousness to cobble together some sort of plan. Her two biggest problems right then were Liam and Paige. She needed to figure out some way to get Liam to start falling for her, and some way to get Paige… out of the competition. Olivia would never be able to focus with the girl around as a distraction. Her heartbeat seemed to speed up as she remembered gazing at her, having that one moment before she got her wits about her, a moment where she could just look and want and appreciate.

As sleep closed in, the duchess couldn’t help but wonder where everything had gone so ridiculously wrong.

* * *

Sun streamed through the windows as the beat of traditional Lythikanese war drums pounded through the room. Olivia let out a low grumble as she rolled to reach her alarm. Shutting it off, she lay in bed for a moment, trying to collect herself. It was the morning of the derby at last, a golden opportunity to get herself back on top. She knew she couldn’t risk being late, but the bed seemed to swallow her up as she tried to roll over and out.

Finally lugging herself across the room, she went to begin on her morning routine. Brushing her teeth and washing her face were important, obviously, but the focus of the day was makeup.

Some noblewomen searched for weeks to find the perfect makeup artist to hire for an event like this. The best and most promising ones were usually snapped up a month or so in advance, which meant that you had to start looking early. The artists would travel with the women to the various duchies, and fix up their makeup to suit whatever the day’s activities held. This was, of course, in addition to the team of other specialists that were typically used: a stylist to accompany you to the boutique each morning, a dietitian to make sure you didn’t fall ill during a trip, a facialist to recommend the best products to keep your skin glowing, and so on.

Olivia, though, hadn’t bothered. Partially because she knew Liam didn’t really care about all that, and partially because she found the whole thing to be dreadfully over the top. If there was one thing Olivia despised, it was a lack of independence. Draping herself across plush chairs while someone she hadn’t exchanged more than five words with rubbed, buffed, and polished away at her sounded like an expensive hell. She was perfectly capable of doing her own makeup and picking out her own outfits, thanks very much. It didn’t even make any of these women more likely to win. It just made them feel more secure in their chances.

Rubbing sunscreen into her skin, she went over her plan in her head. Once she arrived, she would meet with the press and talk a bit about who she was, her plans for Cordonia, why she was different from the rest. She’d walk around for a short while, grab a drink, and settle in to watch the races. The queen was coming to speak with everyone once the races were finished, so she’d have a bit of time to herself before then. Hopefully she’d be able to spot Paige as well. No doubt she’d be good and mad about last night, hopefully mad enough to make some irrational decisions. Hopefully she’d scream at Olivia, or push her, or even throw a drink in her face. Olivia could then play the victim to the press, Paige could drop out, and the two would never have to see each other again. Expect, perhaps, when Paige was invited as a guest to the royal wedding. Oh, how satisfying it would be to watch the girl kneel before her throne. Olivia grinned as she finished up with her lipstick, grabbing her purse. Making her way to the boutique, she sighed in satisfaction as she imagined her entrance to the derby. The press would swarm her, desperate for a quick word or photo. She would positively glow in the sun, and even Liam would have to notice and be awed.

She threw open the doors to the boutique, breathing in the mingling scents of a thousand expensive perfumes from visits past. She was relatively early, so only a small, terrified looking girl remained. Olivia shot a sneer her way, and she dashed out so fast she crashed into a servant in the hall. Laughing, Olivia strode to grab her outfit off the rack. Red was her signature color, but not really derby appropriate. She had picked out a floral fit-and-flare with blue and yellow roses, something elegant yet fun. Her hair was going up in her signature braided bun, complete with…

It was the derby. You had to wear a headpiece. But as Olivia stared down at the obnoxiously cheery looking bird that sat in a nest of feathers, she had to suppress the urge to chuck it out the nearest window. ‘Bright’ and ‘cheery’ were not words one typically used to describe a Nevrakis’ wardrobe. ‘Terrifying’ and ‘awe-inpring’ were much more within Olivia’s comfort zone. God, the things she did for her goals.

Adjusting the pin in her hair, she checked herself out in the mirror. Perfect. She looked perfect. Her morning was starting to shape up, at last-

“Okay. Here we are. Remember to pick something that the queen would like. That’s the big goal here. I’ll meet you in the car in like and hour, ‘kay? We’ll be parked out front.”

“Cool. See you then.”

Olivia froze. Goddamnit. She closed her eyes, willing herself to remain calm. There was no getting out of this now. She stepped out from behind the dressing room curtain.

“Paige. What a pleasant surprise.”

#olivia nevrakis #the royal heir #the royal romance #the royal romance mc #trr au #trr fandom #trr maxwell #trr mc #trr #hana lee #drake walker #liam rys #liam rhys #maxwell beaumont #slow burn #slowburn #enemies to lovers #idiots to lovers

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