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tessa-liam · 1 month

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Turning the Page

A Step Back in Time, chapter 11

Choices, The Royal Romance, AU

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

Turning the Page Series Masterlist

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!OC Riley Brooks

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

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

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

Words: 3268

A Step Back in Time, Chapter 11

Chapter Summary: Liam, Riley and William arrive for a weeklong retreat in Lythikos. Olivia takes Riley ‘under her wing’ to mentor and to offer advice for her return to court. Olivia was determined to get her friend into the right frame of mind and to ultimately get the sparkle back in her eyes.

Music Inspiration: What Was I Made for? Billie Eilish ; Lose Control, Teddy Swims

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

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

‘Cause I, ‘cause I

I don’t know how to feel

But I wanna try

I don’t know how to feel

But someday I might

Someday I might

Think I forgot how to be happy

Something I’m not, but something I can be

Something I wait for

Something I’m made for

Something I’m made for’

Cordonian Royal Palace, Capital

If you told Riley Brooks that she would be living in Cordonia, in the Royal palace, with the King of Cordonia just last summer ... she would not believe you. She would tell you that ‘once upon a time’, she fell in love with that King and competed for his hand in marriage in his social season. By reason of the cruelty of fate, and the callousness of the Royal court, that dream would be ripped away from her by a world that was foreign to her. Where outsiders, or commoners, were frowned upon and/or deemed lesser than the noble class. She would be relegated to be the other woman, the mistress to that immensely powerful man whose duty to his country dictated that he must marry a ‘chosen’ woman, even though he did not love her.

...and she had to watch that man she loved, marry another.

...because she loved him, she remained. Confiding to him, ‘I’ve made my decision ... I want to be with you. I don’t care what it looks like.’

...and it broke her.

In the Royal east wing, inside William’s bedroom, Riley meticulously packed his clothing into a large suitcase. Carefully selecting each item with love and care for their winter vacation in the Alps of Lythikos, she folded his small woolen sweaters with matching pants and jeans. Soft mittens and a woolen cap were nestled next to his favorite plushie, Scooby; ready to go with him on his snowy adventures.

"Li Li, sweetheart, come here please," Riley called out, her voice echoing through the spacious room. William bounded towards her; his eyes wide as he watched his mother pack his belongings.

"We go away, Mama?" William asked, his voice filled with wonder.

"Yes, my sweet boy," Riley replied with a smile, scooping him up into her arms and placing him down on his bed. "We're going to the mountains with your father to visit a good friend of ours. It's going to be so much fun."

William's eyes sparkled with delight at the mention of his father. In the five short months since he met his father for the first time, the bond between father and son had grown stronger exponentially. William adored Liam, who always had time for his son's playful antics in New York and now, here in Cordonia, as well. Despite his Royal duties, Liam made the point to spend as much time with William as possible. Riley was not surprised. Liam often spoke about what kind of father he wanted himself to be. The exact opposite of his own father. She could tell that Liam was trying his best to make up for all the time they had lost. And she could not be happier.

Riley continued to pack, tucking away William's favorite books and toys to keep him entertained during their trip in Lythikos. She had already arranged for snacks with the kitchens, ensuring they would have everything they needed for the long drive to the northern chateau.

Riley looked up, catching Liam's gaze.

Liam stood and silently watched, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded. A gentle smile played on his lips as he watched Riley packing their son's belongings for their trip, while William happily tried to help his mother.

"Come, my King," Riley softly spoke and smiled with a playful glint in her eyes. "Help me double-check if we have everything for our little adventurer."

Liam pushed himself away from the doorframe and strolled over to Riley; he crouched down beside William, who was wide-eyed with anticipation.

“Daddy, look.” William pointed to the large suitcase, smiling happily at his father.

"Hello, my little prince," Liam greeted, ruffling William's hair. "Are you ready for an adventure?"

William giggled and nodded his head vigorously, his eyes reflecting the admiration and adoration he held for his father. Liam chuckled, “I see you have lots of toys packed.”

William climbed over to the suitcase and plucked his favorite plush to show his father.

“Ah, I see you packed your little dog. Is he your special friend?”

“Yes, Daddy. I love puppies.” William grinned, squeezing his toy.

“You do? That is good to know,” Liam winked at Riley as William returned his toy to be packed.

“I will meet you two in an hour. All right, love?” Liam asked Riley.

“Okay, Daddy,” William answered as Liam and Riley chuckled together at his response.

As Liam left to go to his study, Damien entered, bowing to Liam, “Your Majesty”.

Liam smiled and nodded 'hello' in response as he walked towards his assistant waiting in the hall followed by his security detail.

Nevrakis Chateau, Lythikos, Cordonia

Driving through the majestic mountains, Riley stared at the vista overlooking the Nevrakis chateau. Memories flooded her mind as they passed the frozen lake below. The lake where she, along with the other suitors skated on, with Liam during his social season years ago.

Riley shivered. Was it from seeing the beautiful winter landscape or from those memories of past competitions for the man she loved? Riley’s thoughts were interrupted by the happy sound of her son’s voice.

William giggled; totally enthralled by Liam’s storytelling of his past adventures in the snow. The sight of father and son was precious to Riley, as she softly smiled at the two of them. William was sitting on Liam’s lap as he pointed to the large chateau coming into view ahead.

The escalade stopped at the grand entrance of the Nevrakis chateau as members of the royal guard went into formation and opened the vehicle doors.

As they made their way toward the entrance, a flurry of snowflakes fell from the sky, adding a layer of white powder to the ground.

"Wow, this is beautiful.” Riley raised her arms to the sky. “I remember my first visit here during your social season.”

"It is. If I remember correctly, it was just as cold." Liam quipped adjusting William’s scarf.

Members of Olivia’s waitstaff greeted the party as they entered the lavish and grand estate. Standing at the base of the grand staircase, Olivia grinned as William squealed at the pair of Alaskan malamutes sitting inside the foyer.

“King Liam, Lady Riley and Prince William ... welcome to my quaint northern lodge. I am delighted to host the three of you.”

Liam approached Olivia and kissed her cheek, then gestured to Riley and William to join them.

"Olivia, it's been far too long since I last visited. The grounds are magnificent.”

"Indeed, thank you, Liam.” Olivia beamed with pride.

"Thank you for hosting us. Your hospitality is greatly appreciated.” Riley added.

"Anything for my dear friends."

Olivia's attention was drawn to William, who was petting the dogs and giggling.

"Well, hello again, prince William." Olivia walked over and knelt beside and offered treats to her two canine companions.

William looked up at her and smiled.

"Hewwo."

"He's even cuter than I remember," Olivia grinned. “This one,” she motioned to the brown tipped dog, is ‘Mischa’. And this big guy is ‘Zeus’, "she cooed.

"Now, Riley." Olivia stood and walked forward slowly, looping her arm through Riley's arm and leading her inside. "We have lots to catch up on. Liam, make yourself at home. Your Royal suite is ready for you. Gustav will be your personal attendant for your stay."

"Thank you, Liv. That is much appreciated."

"You are quite welcome. Now, Riley, let us get started on our girl time.” Liam winked at Riley, his shoulders shaking as he chuckled at Riley’s faux scared expression.

"Okay, sounds good." Riley shook her head grinning as she walked by Liam.

Olivia and Riley climbed the grand staircase and disappeared around a corner while William sat on the floor playing with the dogs.

"William, let's get you changed and settled." Liam extended his hand down for his son to take.

"Okay, Daddy."

“Bye bye puppies.” William exuberantly spoke to the large dogs.

***

Riley and Olivia sat on a plush sofa in front of a large window overlooking the mountains. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the snowy landscape.

"It's so beautiful here." Riley marveled at the picturesque view.

"I'm glad you like it.” Olivia proudly acknowledged as she handed a large glass filled with chardonnay to Riley.

Olivia sat back and watched Riley; her expression turning serious.

"Riley, I know that things have been difficult for you since you've come back, but you have to remember, you're a force of nature. You are stronger than you think.” Olivia was continuing the conversation of their last visit at the palace.

Riley looked down at her hands, which held onto the wine glass with a death grip. She knew the invitation to spend the week in Olivia's duchy was not just a holiday for her, Liam and William. Her once adversarial friend, and now, her good friend, wanted to assist her with reuniting with Liam.

"I can see the pain and sadness in your eyes." Olivia continued.

"Oh... "

"How is it really going? Riley, how is everything between you and Liam?"

Riley sighed and set her wine glass on the table.

"I'm...I'm not sure."

"Do you still love him?"

"Yes, of course. I have never stopped loving him.”

"Do you think he loves you?"

"Yes.” There was a small smile followed by biting her top lip.

"Then what's the problem?"

"I'm not sure."

Olivia shook her head and sighed.

"You have to trust him, Riley. He loves you. And I can see how happy William makes him.”

"I know that.”

"But there's something else, isn't there?" Olivia eyed her friend for clues.

"It's just that... we've spent so much time apart. And now that we are back together, things feel different.”

"I think I understand. That is quite normal, all things considered."

"And I'm worried that he'll eventually resent me for leaving him while I was pregnant with William."

"He could never resent you, Riley. You are the mother of his child. It'# not in his DNA.”

“I keep thinking that that there will be another scandal around the corner. That something or someone will tear us apart.”

"What happened to that confident and free spirited American girl? The one who turned the court on its' head. Where did she go?"

"I know what you are asking. I feel scared; waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

"Scared of what? And why?"

"That he won't forgive me."

"Riley, listen to me. That is your guilt talking.”

Olivia reached over and grabbed Riley's hands, looking her in the eye.

"Liam loves you. He will always love you. You and William are his world. And I know that he wants nothing more than to make you happy.”

"But..."

"But, nothing. There is no 'but'.”

"Okay." Riley was not convinced. "But, Madeleine ..."

"Is out of the picture; where Liam is concerned. You have the power of position now, make Madeleine feel it."

Riley looked at her friend and took a staggered breath.

"Most importantly, you hold the King’s heart...show the world, show Cordonia, show Madeleine what that means...you will bring her to her knees." Olivia sneered.

"This is why I wanted you to come for a visit. To remind you of who you are and what you are capable of.”

“Olivia ...” Riley sighed, shaking her head, ‘no’.

"Now. Come with me."

Olivia stood and motioned for Riley to follow.

Olivia took her down to an armory in the bowels of the chateau.

"Here we are." Olivia turned and motioned to a wall of weapons.

"What are we doing down here?" Riley asked, eyeing the collection of weapons displayed on the wall.

"We're going to do some training.”

"Training? For what?" Riley questioned, perplexed.

"For the press."

"Why do I need training for the press? With weapons?"

"Because they're vultures. They will try to get a rise out of you. They will ask rude and invasive questions. They will try to trip you up.”

"But why do you think I need training? I know you haven’t forgotten that I was subjected to them during Liam’s social season."

"Because they're relentless idiots.” Olivia sneered.

"Okay, but ...”

“Now that you are back in Cordonia, the mother of the crown prince, no less ...they want to find out your intentions with their king.”

Riley took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

"Don't worry. I'm going to teach you how to handle them.” Olivia confidently proclaimed with a smirk.

"Thank you, Olivia.” Riley sighed as she eyed the collection of pointy weaponry again.

"Of course. Now, let us get started.”

Riley was grateful for Olivia's help and advice. She knew that she was right about the press, having dealt with them through the engagement tour, after the scandal was brought to light.

Riley didn't have to know that. At least, not yet.

And she knew that she needed to be prepared. Riley understood the extent to which the press would dig and manipulate information to get a juicy soundbite. But she was not aware that Madeleine would have her own agenda to discredit and sabotage her at every chance she got, all the way from Morocco. However, Olivia was well aware of Madeleine’s spite and her bitterness over losing the crown.

"First off. I want you to choose a weapon." Olivia pointed to her collection of weaponry mounted on the wall.

"A weapon?" Riley’s eyes were wide looking at the selection before her.

"Yes. You cannot fight the press with words alone.”

"Um...okay." Riley answered sceptically.

Riley looked at each weapon closely. There were swords, halberds, axes and daggers, among others.

She picked up a sword.

"Hmm...a sword? Interesting choice."

"It's light and I can move fast.”

"Good. Particularly good.” Olivia nodded approvingly. “That would be a weapon that Liam would choose.”

“Really?” Riley admonished.

"Now, we'll practice some moves.”

"Moves?"

"Yes. Maneuvers. Stances. Blocking and parrying.”

"Wow. This is serious.”

"Indeed. I'll start slow, but don't let your guard down.”

"I won't.” Riley responded warily.

"Good. Now, attack me."

"What?" Riley looked aghast.

"Attack me."

"Oh, um ... okay."

Riley raised the sword and ran at Olivia, who easily dodged the blow.

"Is that the best you've got?"

"No.”

Riley lunged at her again, and again, Olivia sidestepped each attack.

"You're leaving yourself open.” Olivia challenged.

"I am?"

"Yes. If this was a real fight, I would have cut you down by now." Olivia chirped.

"Oh.” Riley let out a large breath, wondering to herself how this lesson was going to end.

"Here. Let me show you."

Olivia demonstrated a series of moves, her sword flashing and swooshing in the air.

"Now, you try.”

Riley imitated the movements, her sword swishing through the air.

"Better.” Olivia critiqued.

"Thanks." Riley answered questionably.

"Again.” Olivia commanded with Riley going on the defensive.

They continued to spar, their swords clashing together. Riley was impressed with Olivia's skills and ability to read her opponent and react accordingly.

As they continued to fight, Riley became more comfortable with the sword, her moves becoming more fluid and graceful. Liam slipped into the back of the room, quietly watching the sparring.

"Excellent.” Olivia praised.

"Thanks.” Riley smiled at the compliment, picking up a bottle of water.

"Now we need a target." Olivia led her to a stuffed, practice dummy.

Riley chuckled as she watched her friend attach a large face photo of Madeleine onto the head with a dagger.

"Here, let me help you." Olivia handed her an assortment of knives, before she expertly threw her dagger.

Riley's first few throws landed wide, but she quickly found her mark, sinking several blades into the center of the picture.

"Nicely done.”

"Thanks."

"Feel better?" Olivia snickered as Riley laughed.

“Yes! Yes, actually I do. But I don't understand. How is this going to help me?”

"When the press asks you questions, you need to stay calm and confident. If they try to rattle you, throw them off balance. Focus on your target.” Olivia pointed to the picture.

"Let's practice."

"All right."

"Imagine I'm a member of the press. And I ask you, 'Lady Riley, where have you been all these years?'"

Riley cleared her throat and straightened her posture.

"I've been raising my son in New York. It's where he was born and raised.”

"Why did you leave Cordonia?"

"I left to protect my child. And because I knew that King Liam had an obligation to the Queen.”

"What are your intentions now that you've returned?”

"I'm here to support my son and to be a part of his life.”

"Do you still love the King?”

"Yes, of course."

“No! STOP!!!”

Olivia moved assertively towards Riley. "This is where you say, 'that's all the questions for today’ and then you walk away from the microphones. Show confidence. Show determination. Show stoicism. Control the narrative.”

Riley raised her eyebrow. "How did you get so good at this, Olivia?"

Olivia shrugged, her shoulders rising slightly. "I'm the duchess of Lythikos. People talk. And sometimes they don't realize I'm listening."

Riley nodded, a new respect for Olivia blossoming in her heart with a renewed sense of determination in her step.

Feeling his arms, Riley giggled and leaned back against him with a content smile.

Liam sauntered up to Riley from behind, wrapping his arms around Riley’s waist.

Riley turned around to look at Liam, her eyes filled with love.

“The Royal guard will then lead you away from the gathering,” Liam interjected. “You will never be left without protection.”

"Thank you, Liam.” Riley tearfully smiled.

"I want you to know that while I am alive, you will always have a home in Cordonia. And I will never let anyone threaten that ... or you ... ever again.”

Riley felt a warm feeling in her chest and a sense of calm.

Maybe everything was going to be all right, after all. As long as she had Liam and William, she knew she could face anything.

"Liam, I love you."

"I love you, too, Riley."

Liam pressed his lips to hers, and Riley melted into his embrace. They kissed for a long moment, savoring the feel of each other's bodies.

"Come, let's go get some sleep. We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow."

"I'm ready.*

"Pleasant dreams you two. Good night."

"Olivia, thank you for your expertise. It is much appreciated.

"Your welcome, Liam. It's my pleasure."

Good night." Riley called out.

Riley followed Liam out of the room, her hand firmly grasped in his.

And for the first time since she had come back to Cordonia, she truly felt like she was home.

"Thank you, Olivia," she whispered as she lay in Liam's arms, his steady heartbeat lulling her to sleep.

Thanks for reading; please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from this series.

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karahalloway · 3 months

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(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 16 - Snakes in the Garden

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

"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.

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."

"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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#harper gale #drake walker #the royal romance #less than noble intentions #king liam #maxwell beaumont #bertrand beaumont #olivia nevrakis #trr fanfic #cfwc fics of the week #choices fic writers creations #choicesmonthlychallenge #choicesjanuary2024 #Spotify

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angelasscribbles · 2 months

Text

Round Robin Chapter 1: Welcome

This is still untitled and with no mood board because I have no idea where it's going lol.

Word Count: 448

Next writer: @christina-stark-skarlet-stileto

Bertrand Beaumont stepped up to the podium and surveyed the conference room full of malcontents with equal parts excitement and trepidation. This was the most ambitious project of his career.

They were in an undisclosed location. He had a full production team and camera crew on standby. He was acutely aware that the results of this endeavor would make or break his PR firm. But he had complete confidence in his staff.

Tapping on the microphone, he began. “Settle down, please. I understand that everyone in this room is powerful in some way. You’re royalty, celebrities, and top performers in your field. Doctors, CEO’s, etc. You’re not used to being told what to do. I get it. However…”

He waited for the grumbling to die down before continuing. “You’re all here for the same reason. You’ve become a liability for your family, your agency, your recent movie. You’re a PR nightmare for whoever and whatever you’re attached to.”

This time the grumbles were less angry and more conceding.

Bertrand smiled reassuringly. “We’re here to change that. We’re here to help you. I know none of you are accustomed to taking much direction however, for many of you, this is your last chance before you’re fired, blacklisted from Hollywood, or exiled by your families.”

The former crown prince of Dravokia exchanged a sidelong glance with the former crown prince of Cordonia as he mouthed, “Too late!”

Tobias Carrick rose from his chair to demand, “And how, exactly, are you going to do that?”

Bertrand smiled, “I’m glad you asked! This program will not only teach you the skills you need to spin public opinion but will put you in situations to showcase those skills. Publicly.”

“Publicly?” Came a question from the back.

“Yes, publicly. First, you’ll receive instructions on how to conduct yourselves and then you’ll put what you’ve learned by attending a series of public appearances where you will behave properly. You will rehabilitate your images with the support of our staff and your partner.”

A murmur broke out as several people asked, “What partner?”

“Oh, we have taken the liberty of pairing each of you up with a mentor. Someone who already has a stellar public image. Just being seen with them in public will help you. This person will be your shadow for the duration of the program.”

“How long are we stuck here?” Leo Rys spoke up. He hadn’t abdicated a throne to have his life micro-managed by a PR firm.

“Until your approval ratings are acceptable.”

“Great.” He huffed as he slumped back into his seat. “Just fucking dandy.”

“Everyone get a good night’s sleep,” Bertrand told them brightly. “We start in the morning!”

#choicesprompts #round robin #round robin 2024 #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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cordonianroyalairlines · 2 months

Text

Staking a Claim

Series: Cordonian Royal Airlines

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Various

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Drake

Word Count: 2,340

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Language mostly

A/N: This is for the @choicesholidays Valentine's Day prompts: "Be my fake date for a wedding."

The hair color is wrong for my Riley, but this image was perfect!

The copilot twisted around in his seat one too many times, craning his neck as if searching the cabin for something, jostling the pilot in the process.

Liam grunted in consternation. “Drake!”

Drake spun back around, “What?”

“What is your malfunction?”

“What do you mean?” Drake blinked at him in confusion.

“What do you mean what do I mean?” Liam grunted, “We haven’t made it through the preflight checklist because you keep turning around to stare into the cabin! What the hell is so interesting out there?”

“Nothing!” Drake rolled his shoulders, stared blankly out the cockpit window for a moment then turned back to Liam, “Can you see the guy in 12B?”

“What?” Liam’s head swiveled around and then back. “No. Why?”

Drake’s bottom lip protruded as he shook his head. “No reason.”

Liam watched him skeptically. Drake had been visibly agitated since he’d reported for duty. “There has to be a reason.”

“I…he just….he looks a little squirrely. You know what I mean? Untrustworthy.”

Liam’s eyes widened in alarm. “Is he a threat? Do we need to alert security? Did you see a weapon?” He whipped his head around quickly to try and get a good view of the man in 12B. “I can’t see anything. Riley’s blocking my view.”

“Is she talking to him?” Drake’s entire body moved just as Liam turned back around. Their heads collided with a resounding thwack.

“Ow! Fuck!” Liam grabbed his forehead.

“Sorry, sorry!”

“Seriously man, tell me what’s going on right now. I’m calling security!” Liam reached for the microphone but just as he got it to his mouth, Drake slapped it out of his hands.

“No!”

Liam watched in astonishment as the microphone flew out of his grip and hit the window then bounced off the dash. “Are you on drugs right now? Do I need to get another copilot?”

Drake gaped at him. “Seriously? When have I ever done drugs?”

“I don’t know man, but you’re acting really fucking weird.”

Hana ducked her head in to ask, “Are we almost ready? A couple of the passengers are getting antsy.”

“Which ones?” Drake asked.

Hana’s brows pulled together for a moment then smoothed out as she chuckled. “Oh. You know Riley’s ex is out there, don’t you?”

“What?” Drake’s eyes shot to Liam then back to Hana as he denied it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

A relieved breath whooshed out of Liam. At least he now knew Drake wasn’t on drugs and there wasn’t a terrorist on board. He stifled a laugh. “Sure you don’t.”

“I don’t!” Drake glared at them both.

Hana giggled as she backed out of the cockpit.

They finished the checklist and got airborne, but Drake’s agitation quickly returned. “Do you think he’s better looking than me?”

“Who?”

“The guy! In 12B.”

“How would I know?”

“You’re bisexual, right? You can judge that kind of thing.”

Liam scoffed. “First of all, I haven’t laid eyes on the guy. Second of all, I thought you didn’t care.”

“No, I don’t! I mean….just objectively speaking, out of curiosity….I overheard Hana call him eye candy. He can’t be that good-looking, can he?”

“I dunno Drake, Riley is a ten, so I imagine her ex is no slouch in the looks department either.”

“Great.” Drake huffed as he spun around in his seat again.

“Oh, for the love of God, just go look!”

“I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Because then she’ll know I care!”

Liam cocked an eyebrow at him, “So you do care?”

“I mean she’ll think I care!”

“You’re really an idiot sometimes, you know that?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Of course you don’t.” Liam shook his head. “The only person you’re fooling is yourself. Put the rest of us out of our misery and just tell the girl that you like her already!”

“I’m not going out there.”

“Okay.”

Drake tapped his fingers on his knees for several seconds before jumping out of his seat. “I need to use the bathroom.”

“Sure you do.”

“I had a lot of coffee before we boarded.”

“Sure you did.”

“Fuck you. I’m going to take a piss.”

“Great. Tell Riley I said hi.”

Drake ignored him as he exited the cockpit and headed for the back of the plane where the restrooms were located. He slid his eyes sideways as he passed aisle 12 and scoffed to himself. The guy wasn’t that good-looking.

He was clean-shaven with a strong jawline, and raven hair swept back and gelled to perfection. Was that an Armani suit? How were his eyes that blue?

He slammed into the lavatory and locked the door to glare at himself in the highly polished silver surface of the mirror as he regarded his deep copper-colored eyes and messy, fly-away hair that barely saw a brush, much less hair gel. He ran a hand across the stubble dotting his jaw. It was a strong jawline, wasn’t it? Should he shave?

The guy in seat 12B looked like a CEO or something. Did she like that type? Drake was far more likely to be found in a tent than a boardroom. Did he even own a suit? He owned uniforms. Didn’t women like men in uniforms?

He made pretty good money as a first officer for Cordonian Royal Airlines.

Not CEO money.

“Fuck!” He spun and lashed out at the toilet. His foot connected to the stainless steel sending a sharp jolt of pain shooting up his leg.

There was a knock at the door. “Everything okay in there?”

Shit! It was Riley! “I’m fine. Dropped my…. Wallet…” Fuck, Walker! What the shit is wrong with you, man? Your wallet really?

“Are you sure because that didn’t sound like—”

“I said I’m fine!”

“Okay. Just let me know if—oh, excuse me what?”

From the other side of the door, a man’s voice murmured something he couldn’t make out then both people moved away.

Was that the ex talking to her? He forced himself to count to twenty so he didn’t just barrel out of the bathroom after them. He took several deep calming breaths like Max had tried to show him last time he had been upset about something. At least he thought it was what Max had done. At the time, he had mostly ignored him.

With an air of calm he most certainly did not feel, he exited the lavatory. His eyes went straight to seat 12B. Empty. He backtracked and ducked into the crew area.

Sure enough, there was Riley standing in the middle of the empty inflight catering kitchen talking to Mr. CEO.

All his jealousy evaporated in an instant as he took in her demeanor. Her arms were folded defensively across her chest and her face was furrowed into a frown. She was shaking her head as she leaned forward, her voice lowered but her entire body radiating her discomfort with the conversation.

The guy reached out and grabbed her arm.

She flinched away.

Oh hell no.

Drake didn’t remember moving but he was suddenly next to them, his hand wrapped firmly around the man's wrist. He flung the other man’s arm away from Riley and through gritted teeth asked, “Is there a problem here?”

The man gave him a startled look then annoyance flashed across his face. “We were just having a discussion.”

“Doesn’t look like the lady’s enjoying the conversation.”

“Mind your own business,” he shook his head dismissively and reached for her again, “Riley, if we could just talk privately—”

Drake intercepted the motion before he could touch her. “If you’re attached to that hand and wish to keep it, then I would strongly advise you against touching her again.”

He jerked his hand out of Drake’s grasp and rubbed his wrist. “Was that really necessary?”

Drake never took his eyes off the man as he leaned his body toward Riley, “Do you want to talk to this guy?”

“No.”

“But, Riley—”

“We have nothing to talk about, Nick!”

Drake angled his body so that he was blocking Riley from Nick’s view. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You heard her.”

Nick looked like he wanted to press the issue, but after taking in Drake’s stormy expression, thought better of it. He straightened his suit jacket with a sharp tug. “Fine. I’ll see you at the wedding. We’ll talk then.”

“You’re not coming to my sister’s wedding!”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? I’ll be there as Clarissa’s plus one.”

Riley shook her head back and forth. “Seriously? When we were dating, you couldn’t stand her!”

A gloating smile crept across his face. “Jealous?”

“Why would I be jealous?”

“Because you’re not over me, Riley. If you were, you’d have bothered to line up a date for the wedding.”

“I—”

“She has a date for the wedding.” Drake cut in as he casually slung his arm around her shoulders.

Nick turned his gaze to Drake for a long, evaluating moment. “Are you the new boyfriend then?”

“Yep. And I’m only going to ask you once to return to your seat. If you don’t stop harassing the flight crew, I will land this plane and have security escort you off of it.”

Nick’s eyes widened slightly as he huffed out, “You wouldn’t dare!”

Riley ran her hand down Drake’s arm as she smirked at Nick, “He would. He’s very protective when it comes to me. I wouldn’t test him if I were you.”

“Whatever,” Nick bumped Drake’s shoulder as he shoved past them and exited the kitchen.

Drake’s arm was still around Riley as he turned his head to watch Nick leave. “Let me know if he bothers you again and I’ll—”

Riley spun on him in fury, her fists raining blows on his chest. “What the fuck did you just do, Drake?”

His hand flew to his chest. “Ow! What the hell, Riley? I just rescued you from that guy!”

“I didn’t need rescuing, Drake. I can handle Nick. He’s an asshole, but he’s not a serial killer or something!”

Drake scoffed with a shake of his head, “I think the phrase you’re looking for is thank you.”

“Oh yeah? Really?”

“Yeah, really!”

“Do you know what you just did? Do you?”

“Um…got the asshole ex-boyfriend to leave you alone?”

“No, you fucking jackass.” She slapped his arm. “You just told him that you’re my boyfriend and my date to my sister’s wedding!”

“So?”

“So?” She threw her arms up in the air. “So when I show up at the wedding with no date and no boyfriend he’ll know that was a lie and I’ll be humiliated!”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…oh!”

They stood in silence for a long moment, Drake rubbing his chest and Riley fuming. Then Drake quietly said, “I’ll go to the wedding with you.”

“What?”

“I mean….if you want me to.”

“I…”

“I did get you into this situation. Let me make it up to you by getting you out of it. One fake boyfriend slash date for sister’s wedding coming right up!”

All the fight went out of her as she took in the hopeful smile on his face. “I can’t ask you to do that, Drake.”

“Why not?”

“Because the wedding is on Valentine’s Day and I’m sure you already have plans. I can’t ask you to cancel—”

“Pfffftttt.” He waved a hand dismissively in the air. “I do not have plans for Valentine’s Day!”

“You don’t?”

Did she sound hopeful?

“No, I do not. No girlfriend, no friend with benefits, no romantic entanglements at all.”

Except with you.

A delighted smile broke out across her face. “Okay, then.”

“So, we’re good?”

She gave him a flirtatious smile as she flipped her hair and turned to leave. “We’re good.”

“Okay, good.”

He watched her walk away with a contented smile on his lips then followed her out of the kitchen and back to the front of the plane. He glowered at Nick as he passed aisle 12.

Nick returned the glare as he adjusted his headphones and slid down in the seat.

When he stepped onto the flight deck Liam greeted him with smug satisfaction. “That was the longest piss in the world.”

“Shut up.” He slid into the copilot seat without looking at his best friend.

“So how’d it go? Did you get a good look at her ex?”

“Um….yeah… he’s a pushy bastard. I had to tell him to keep his hands to himself and….”

“And?”

Drake released a long-suffering sigh knowing Liam was going to find out sooner or later. Riley would tell Max and Max would tell everyone else. “I’m going as her date to her sister’s wedding.”

“Wow! That’s quite a jump from ‘I don’t like her like that’.” Liam chortled gleefully.

Drake kept quiet but his foot started tapping nervously.

“Oh, shit, there’s more! What is it?” Liam prodded.

“Ah…”

“Don’t make me call Max and find out.”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Come on, what else?”

“It’s on Valentine’s Day,” he answered with a resigned sigh.

Liam practically danced out of his seat. “This is amazing! This is epic! Mr. I will never take a woman out on Valentine’s Day because that’s far too much pressure and it’s all about commercialization anyway is taking a woman out on Valentine’s Day. To her sister’s wedding!”

“Why does this make you so happy?”

“Because I get to say I told you so forever!”

“It’s not even a real date.”

“Sure it’s not.”

“It’s not!”

“Does she know that?”

“Yes! I just said I was her boyfriend so that Nick guy would stop—”

“Wait! Wait! You played the pretend boyfriend card to back off her ex?”

“Yeah…so?”

Liam threw his head back and belly laughed. “You are such a goner!”

Drake pressed his lips into a tight line and returned his attention to the control panel. He wanted to argue, he really did. But he couldn’t.

He was absolutely a goner.

And he was going to have to buy a suit.

Shit.

#cordonianroyalairlines #trr au #the royal romance #drake walker #drake x mc #cfwc fics of the week #choices fic writers creations #choicesholidays #liam rys

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liaromancewriter · 3 months

Text

Daddy’s Girl

Premise: A poignant moment between father and daughter after the poison attack.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); feat. Robert Valentine (OC) Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff. Words: 1,510

A/N: Submission for @choicesjanuary2024 day 16 prompt "relationships". I'm also using @choicesflashfics week 69, prompt 3

Robert Valentine had a plan. He’d graduate from college, sail around the world and then settle down to live out the Valentine legacy of working in the family business. His father also had a plan, and it featured only two of the three items on his list.

Unable to say no to the strict man who’d raised him, Robert gave up his dream of feeling the wind in his hair on the open seas. A chance encounter in Greenwich during summer break from Wharton further altered his plans.

A year later, he was married to a woman who not only shared his love of adventure but actively encouraged his carefree side. Becoming parents hadn’t been part of the plan, at least not so soon after getting married. But fate had other ideas.

As they stared down at the two tiny humans behind the glass of the nursery at Newport Hospital, he gently hooked one arm around Olivia’s waist. The boy was restless while the girl was asleep, their hands lightly touching.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Olivia murmured, still tired, her head resting on his shoulder.

Even though they’d known Olivia was carrying multiples, seeing them was a different reality. On top of that, the twins had arrived a month early. They still hadn’t landed on names or completed the nursery in the townhouse they’d bought near his work.

“We should come up with appropriate names,” he said quietly after a while. “Can’t keep calling them Thing One and Thing Two.”

“Imagine the shock on our parents’ faces if we put that on their birth certificates,” Olivia teased, her eyes swimming with laughter.

Robert chuckled, folding his wife in his arms. Being a father would change him; it was inevitable. But he didn’t have to give up his dreams, just adjust them for two more.

Now, all these years later, Robert watched his daughter’s even breathing as she lay sleeping on the hospital bed and wished he could turn back time to when she was a baby, tucked safe and sound in his arms.

The last two days had been harrowing and emotional. The panicked call from his son in the middle of the night, the long flight to Boston from Paris, the uncertainty about Cassie’s condition, and the anger when he and Olivia were denied entrance into the hospital.

But that was all over now, he sighed in relief. His daughter was no longer on death’s door. It would take time, but he’d been assured she would recover. If he thought Cassie wouldn’t be pissed at him for doubting her precious Dr. Ramsey, Robert would’ve whisked her off to the best specialists in the world for a second opinion.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice Cassie’s eyelids fluttering as she slowly awoke. But he heard her whimpers and the sound of sheets rustling. He was out of the chair and by her bedside seconds before her eyes drifted open.

“Hey, kiddo,” Robert smiled softly, taking her hand.

“Daddy?” Cassie said in a confused tone, her voice reed thin and somewhat raspy.

She struggled to sit up, and he placed a steadying hand on her back while pressing a control button on the guardrail to raise the bed’s head. He adjusted the pillow to support her neck and poured a glass of water when she started coughing.

“Better?”

When she nodded, Robert set the glass down on the table. He turned away to drag the visitor’s chair closer to the bed and sat down, covering her hand with his palm. They smiled at each other, matching green eyes.

“You haven’t called me kiddo since I was ten,” she commented, smiling despite the sudden discomfort under her sternum.

The machines she was hooked up to briefly beeped before settling down as the pain subsided. Robert stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Old habits,” he said, taking his eyes off the flashing numbers on the monitor. “You haven’t called me Daddy since you and Max decided that word was for babies.”

“Well, I feel weak as a baby right now, so that could be the reason,” she joked, and then tears filled her eyes, dripping down her cheeks. “I was so scared I’d never see you or Mom again. ”

Robert leaned in and wiped the tears away with his fingers, shushing her the way he used to when she was five and had a nightmare.

“When I was in that room, all I could think of was the last time you took us sailing,” she continued in a watery voice. “It was just before I moved to Boston. The fresh ocean breeze tossing my hair, the taste of salt on our lips as water crashed around us. Max cursing as the unruly waves rocked the boat and almost tipped us over. Your laughter booming in the wind. That feeling of truly being alive.”

Leaving the chair, he sat on the side of the bed and folded her into his arms, mindful of the drip lines and wires.

“You are alive, Cassie honey,” he whispered over and over as sobs wracked her body, and she burrowed her face into his chest. “You’re here, safe in my arms.”

Eventually, the storm passed, and he returned to his seat. The comforting silence stretched, broken only by the beeps and hums of the machines.

“Where’s Mom?”

“At the hotel, hopefully getting some rest,” Robert explained. “She barely slept these last couple of days. Max, too. Your brother pretends to be invincible, but he was running on fumes by the time we got here.”

“Maybe if he drank coffee every now and then,” Cassie said with a wry twist of her lips.

Robert shook his head in amusement and chuckled, well familiar with his children’s opposing views on this matter and their needling of each other as a result.

“Have you seen Ethan?”

“Yes, he dropped by an hour ago to check on you,” Robert replied, hiding his disquiet at how Cassie’s eyes locked on the closed door, waiting for the other man to walk in.

He steepled his index fingers under his chin as he sprawled on the chair, stretching his legs out under the bed. “I take it you’re both still hiding your relationship?”

Robert was glad Cassie at least had the good sense to look abashed. He wasn’t happy with the turn of events, but his wife was convinced it was the real deal and they should give the couple space to work it out. Olivia’s instincts were flawless, which was the only reason he exercised restraint.

“What do you think of him?” she asked, her eyes beseeching him to understand. “You didn’t say anything during or after the weekend in Newport. I really want you to like him, Daddy.”

“He’s certainly different from Jackson or anyone else you’ve dated before,” he said neutrally. “Older, reserved, and perhaps a little austere for my carefree daughter.”

“That’s just the side he shows everyone else,” Cassie said, her voice full of conviction. “He’s different when it’s just the two of us. Granted, our relationship is still evolving, but he cares for me, deeply.”

“I know, Cassie,” Robert said, remembering the tender look in the other man’s eyes earlier. “This isn’t up for debate. But as your father, I’m allowed to be concerned. Gossip from a workplace romance is rarely kind to the woman, especially when there’s a power imbalance.”

He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest. “You still have two years left in your training here. All I ask is that you be careful and protect your reputation if not your heart.”

Before Cassie could respond, there was a perfunctory knock on the door, and then it swung open. Ethan Ramsey crossed the threshold and suddenly stopped, causing the nurse accompanying him to crash into his back, the tray in her hand rattling before she steadied it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Ethan said, his brows furrowing as if sensing he’d stepped into a quagmire. “We need to draw Dr. Valentine’s blood, check her vitals and run a few tests.”

“Yes, of course,” he said, pushing the chair back and standing up. “I’ll let you get on with it while I grab a coffee and check in on Olivia.”

Robert turned to smile down at Cassie. “Why don’t I get you something to eat?”

“Well, I am feeling a bit peckish,” Cassie mused, a teasing twinkle in her eyes. “Hospital food sucks.”

“I’ll ask the chef at the hotel to whip up your favorites.” Robert leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Be good, and no more heroics.”

He nodded at Ethan, who came to stand across from him on the other side of the bed. He noted the softness in Cassie’s eyes, the concern in Ethan’s and felt like a third wheel.

As Robert left the room, he glanced at the nurse, oblivious to their situation, and hoped Cassie heeded his advice. Ethan seemed decent enough, but if he hurt Cassie…. Well, when it came to his children, all bets were off.

---------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @lucy-268 @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate @zealouscanonindeer

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart choices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #open heart fanfics #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfics #choices fanfiction #ethan ramsey x cassie valentine

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potionsprefect · 21 days

Text

Adjusting

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Victoria is back at work, and not everything is the same

Rating: Teen

Category: Angst, Fluff

Victoria sat down in the cafeteria, a whole pizza in front of her. Today was her first day back at work since the Senator attack. She knew she would have to come back eventually but it didn’t seem real that she was finally back, sat in her white coat, helping those who desperately needed it.

She was desperately avoiding the corridor where her room was. She knew all she would see would be herself in that room, terrified of whether she was going to die. The team had a patient in there but Victoria hadn’t met them yet.

Slowly, Victoria ate her lunch. She had opted to go early to avoid the queues but she really avoiding doing as much work with the patient as possible. Instead, she stayed in the teams room, helping devise a treatment plan. It was unlike Victoria to hide away and she knew she was being unprofessional.

A figure sat down in front of her, a handsome but concerned look on his face. “You’re in here early.” Ethan said.

“I wanted to beat the lunchtime queue.” Victoria shrugged.

“So it’s nothing to do with you wanting to avoid the patients room?” Ethan folded his arms, an eyebrow raised.

Victoria sighed. “Am I that obvious?”

“Yes. And I don’t need to tell you that it is also unprofessional. But we’re letting you figure it out on your own. You know you can’t avoid that room forever.” Ethan said.

“I know I just… I can’t go back in there. All I see is myself, struggling to fight for life.”

“Maybe you’ve come back too soon.”

Victoria sighed. “It’s not down to me. Blame the system.”

“You know to take it one step at a time. But I’m saying this as your boss and not as your boyfriend. I would like to see you visit at least once before the end of your shift. And I’m saying this as your boyfriend. I’ll come with you if you want.” Ethan reached across the table and took Victorias hand in his.

“I think this is something I need to do myself. But thank you for the offer.” Victoria smiled. “I will probably come back to the office as quickly as possible.”

“Then I’ll be in the office waiting for you with a hug.” Ethan smiled.

Victoria ate the rest of her pizza, quiet in the presence of Ethan. She knew this would be one of the biggest parts of her recovery to date and the longer she put it off, the harder it would be further down the line.

Today would be the day she faced it. The day she proved to herself how strong she really is.

Victoria took several deep breaths as the elevator doors opened. She was thankful that she was in the lift alone for which she could deal with her emotions by herself and not have to embarrass herself in front of anyone else.

The only sound that could be heard was Victoria’s shoes as she walked slowly down the empty corridor. Victoria loved it like this, an empty corridor where she could consider her thoughts was always better than a crowded one.

She cast her mind back to that day, all she could see from her room was the frantic faces of her colleagues who were rushing about trying desperately to find a cure.

We’re running out of time. What if they don’t make it?

The voices were loud and frantic, panic evident in their voices. Victoria wanted desperately to smash her way through the glass and break free.

Victoria approached the window and saw the patient gazing out the window. Victoria smiled softly at the patient. It seemed surreal to think of the horrors this room saw not that long ago.

With a gentle push, Victoria opened the room door. “Mrs Winston? I’m Doctor Clarke. How are you feeling?”

“Oh much better thank you. I don’t believe we’ve met. Are you one of the doctors working alongside the team?” Mrs Winston smiled.

“I am. I’ve been helping draw up some treatment plans for you. I apologise for not coming to visit you sooner.” Victoria replied.

“I understand dear. I remember reading on the news about the awful events that happened here. I’m glad you’re alive.” She smiled.

“Thank you. And I have no doubt that the team and I will help find out what’s wrong with you soon.” Victoria smiled.

After a while, Victoria left the room, heading back to the diagnostics teams office. She felt lighter on her feet, happier even. She had done it and now it was over, she could look forward even further.

Victoria reached the office and opened the door. Ethan was sat at his desk, paperwork in front of him.

“How did it go?” Ethan stood up and walked over to Victoria.

“Better than I hoped. It wasn’t easy but it’s done now.” Victoria said.

Ethan took her face in his hands. “I am so proud of you. He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

Victoria pulled away after a few seconds, resting her forehead against his, eyes closed. “This isn’t easy.”

“It was never going to be. Recovery is slow and sometimes painful.” Ethan pulled her to his chest, running a gentle hand through Victoria’s hair.

“I just don’t like living in uncertainty. I want to know what’s happening and I want to know when. But I know that can’t happen and I should just accept whatever comes my way.” Victoria said.

“You don’t need to rush anything further. It can all go at your own pace.” Ethan smiled.

“What if I’m like this for a long time? What if you don’t want to put up with that?” Victoria asked.

“I will endure anything for you. And I don’t care how long it takes. Your health is number one priority and no matter how long your recovery is, I will be by your side throughout.”

“You’re a really good man you know that?”

Ethan laughed. “So I’ve been told. By all the right people.”

Victoria always knew that coming back to work was never going to be easy. But she knew that as long as she has the right people by her side, she could face anything.

And she had exactly that with Ethan. Her fiercest and most loyal protector.

I made it sad and then I made it happy lol

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#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey x victoria clarke #ethan x victoria #playchoices #fanfic #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #choices: open heart #angst #fluff #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week

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jerzwriter · 3 months

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A Different Fate - Final Chapter

OMG, it took me entirely too long to complete this, but I'm so happy now that it's done! I am so, so grateful to the anonymous (to you, not to me 😉) donor to the Write for Gaza project, who requested I finish this by the end of January. Well - I did it! And thank you so, so much - I can't tell you how much it means!

A Different Fate - Series Masterlist

Book: Open Heart (Post Series)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (past)

Featuring: Tobias Carrick, Sienna Trinh

Rating: Teen

Words: 3,700

Category: Short-Series/AU/Lost Love

Summary: Ethan's first attempt to talk to Casey didn't work out, but now, with Tobias & Sienna's help, will it finally work out? Or will they have to resign and accept their fate?

A/N: When I started this, it was supposed to be a one-off, and now, I'm finally done after 5 parts! It's funny how these things take on a life of their own. I know a few of you have been very anxious for this to post, and I thank you for your extraordinary patience. I hope you find it's worth it in the end! @choicesjanuary2024 Day 23 - Hope Ethan x Kaycee Masterlist | My Full Masterlist

The bus jolted forward the moment the light turned green, jostling its passengers around like dolls—every passenger except for Sienna Trinh. Growing increasingly impatient with her “charge,” she sat firmly in place, arms crossed defiantly before her chest.

“This is a stupid idea!” She said, slapping a startled Ethan’s arm across the bus aisle.

“Oww!”

“Don’t oww, me!” She fired back. “You blew my advice off yesterday, and look how well that went. Maybe you should listen to me now.”

“I know,” Ethan droned. “But this is different.”

“Si, I have to agree with Ethan on this one,” Tobias said, his face twisting as he realized his words. “Shit! It hurt more than I expected to say that.”

“Thanks, pal.”

“Don’t mention it,” Tobias smirked. “Si, he can’t do this right now. He’d have to ambush her at work, and you see how well that went. We have a plan in place; it will be fine.”

“Normally, I’d agree with you, but I’m done tempting fate with these two. Something always goes wrong.”

“Look, the bonehead has put it off eight years. It can wait another eight hours to ensure it’s done right.”

“You know,” Ethan interrupted, “it might be helpful if the two of you wouldn’t talk about me like I wasn’t here.”

Sienna turned to him, brow raised. “It would be great if you didn’t need the two of us here to make sure you don’t blow it!”

“She makes a point,” Tobias nodded, pleased with Ethan’s exasperation.

“Can we stick to the point?”

“The point is, you’ll speak to Kaycee tonight.”

“Yeah, after your date,” Ethan chuckled ruefully. “

“It’s not a date!” Tobias spat. “You know damn well I’m just going to the party with her to get that asshole Douglas off her back.”

Ethan shot a half-doubtful look.

“Really?” Tobias said incredulously. “I’ve been rooting for you two since she left Boston, and this is how you treat me? Trust me, Ramsey, all Kaycee wants is you, and the last thing I’d ever want is to have you as a metamour.”

Sienna’s nose scrunched. “A meta-what?”

Tobias waved her off with a chuckle. “Trust me, Si, you’re better off not knowing. Now, stop worrying. I’ll take Kaycee to the party, give the creepy doctor a few death stares, and after a drink or two, I’ll mention you’re in town, play wingman, then you swoop in for the grand finale. We’ve got it under control.”

“Yeah,” Sienna rolled her eyes. “With you two at the wheel, what could possibly go wrong?”

~~~~~

“I’m coming!” Kaycee clumsily rushed across her apartment to answer the door, slipping into her silver heels along the way. She opened the door breathless but stunning nevertheless. “Hey,” she smiled.

A grin spread across Tobias’s face; he had forgotten how well Dr. MacClennan cleaned up. With her long blonde curls cascading over her shoulder, barely skimming the bodice of her strapless ice-blue gown, she looked more like someone who spent her day posing for Vogue than saving lives in scrubs.

“What do you think?” she grinned.

“What do I think? If this is how you look for a fake date, what the hell do you do on real ones? How many heart attacks have you been responsible for, MacClennan?”

“Shit!” She said with a stomp of her foot. “I screwed up! I shouldn’t have brought you tonight!”

“Oh, why?”

“I should have invited Dr. Douglas himself! If I knew cardiac arrest would be the result, well, that would be one way to be rid of him.”

Tobias burst out laughing. “I forgot just how wicked you could be.”

Slipping an earring in, she winked. “I’d feel guilty about it ten minutes later. Not guilty enough to start CPR, but guilty all the same."

"Well, I'm happy to provide a less lethal way of getting rid of Dr. Jackass.”

She grabbed her clutch off the side table and looked at Tobias, casually leaning against the door. She swore he hadn’t aged a day, still wearing that signature confident swagger as well as he wore his dark, tailor-made suit. She crossed her arms and shook her head disapprovingly.

“What?” He asked, checking his attire to see if something was wrong. “Do I not clean up as well as you?”

“Too well. If word gets out that I’m dating you, no one will ask me out again. They’d be afraid of the competition.”

He chuckled softly, visions of Ethan in his mind. “Well, let’s hope it won’t come to that.”

Stepping to Kaycee’s side, he offered his arm. “Shall we?”

“Let’s go!”

~~~~~

The party was exactly what one would expect to cap off the career of a renowned doctor from one of the top hospitals in the world. The rooftop ballroom’s floor-to-ceiling windows provided a panoramic view of the City’s famed skyline; fairy lights scattered throughout the room illuminated it with an ethereal glow. Warm notes from the piano wafted through the air, competing with the gentle hum of convivial chatter as tuxedoed waiters distributed flutes of Dom Perignon. Tobias and Kaycee were on a mission and played the part of an enamored new couple so well that they earned envious stares, not only from Dr. Douglas but from several others as well. But as much fun as that was, Tobias couldn’t get his mind off his primary goal of the night: getting Ethan and Kaycee together. He looked at his watch. She only wanted to stay two hours, and they were about to hit that mark.

“Hey,” he whispered, “Wanna take a spin around the dancefloor before we blow this joint? Make this look legit?”

Wordlessly placing her empty champagne flute on a passing waiter's tray, she took Tobias’s hand and led him to the dancefloor. Ironically, finding the most privacy they’d had all night.

“Dancing was a good idea,” she said. “Everyone knows I wouldn’t leave a party without dancing... and it’s not like you’re a stick in the mud that would refuse me.”

“Kacyee, it would be difficult for anyone to refuse you.”

“Yeah,” she smiled sadly, “You’d be surprised.”

“I don’t know about that. For Christ's sake, you used to get Ramsey to dance back in the day. I thought only an act of God could accomplish that!”

Kaycee’s body tensed, and her feet seemed to forget what they were supposed to do. As she stood still on the dance floor, Tobias looked her in the eye.

“I’m sorry, did I overstep?”

Kaycee shook her head and continued to dance. “It’s been so nice seeing you, but it takes me back, and sometimes, that can be hard, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. It takes me back, too, but is that such a bad thing? We had some good times.”

“Ha! It all depends,” she chuckled. “Do you have a time machine? Because I’d be happy to go back, but only if I could write a different fate.”

“I can’t do that,” he sighed. “Not the time machine part, but... maybe I can help with the different fate.”

Her brow furrowed. “What?”

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “Follow me.”

Kaycee remained silent as they ran down the plushly carpeted hall. But, when they found an empty banquet room, she wanted answers.

“OK, we’re alone now. What’s going on?”

“I want to talk to you about Ethan.”

Kaycee shook her head, throwing her hands in the air in frustration.

“We did that. We had that conversation at dinner the other night. We don’t need to do it again.”

“Did we have that conversation? Because as far as I remember, I didn’t tell you that he was here.”

“He’s what? He’s here... like in New York?”

“I’ll do one better,” he smiled. “He’s sitting at the bar in the lobby.”

Her eyes narrowed, and Tobias wasn’t sure if he saw shock or anger flickering in them.

“You told me he was in Boston. You said he refused to come with you!”

“He was. Or at least I thought he was. But when I got to my hotel that night, he was there.”

She crossed her arms smugly. “So he came to attend the conference. Right?”

“Nope. He didn’t come for the conference. He came here for you.”

“For me?” Her voice cracked. “He came here for me. Yet he’s been in town for two days and hasn’t reached out to me once.”

“Well... about that. He did. He stopped by Langone yesterday and sort of heard you tell Dr. Douglass that you had a thing... for me.”

Kaycee felt her stomach drop. “No!”

“Yes.”

“No, no, no, no! He doesn’t really think I want you, does he?”

“Hey, don’t act so disgusted!” Tobias said defensively. “Believe it or not, most people would kill to get with this... but Ethan knows you’re not one of them. I can’t give you a time machine, but you can give yourself a second chance.”

She remained silent, her heart beating faster as she stared out the window into the night.

“Tobias, it’s taken me eight years to say his name without crying. To recall our time together and feel whistful, not just sad. I’m content with my life here, and if I open that door and it slams shut once again... I don’t know that I could take it.”

“Kaycee, you’re right. Eight years have passed, and a lot has changed. Like you – you’re not a young, wide-eyed resident anymore. You have a brilliant career that can only be attributed to one thing – and that’s you. No one could dare say you made it because you were involved with him. You love each other. Why keep denying it.”

“He loves me?” She asked. “He used those exact words.”

“Well, he didn’t actually say the words, but... why would he say them to me? Why don’t you give him a chance... to say them to you?”

“But Tobias,” she said with a quiver in her voice. “What if... what if it doesn’t work?”

“But Kaycee... what if it does?”

~~~~~

Boston and Philadelphia had skyscrapers for sure, but neither city could hold a candle to New York, and right now, Kaycee couldn't be more grateful to the town she now called home. Sixty-eight floors, she thought, taking a tentative step into the elevator. Sixty-eight floors stood between her and the lobby, and she hoped they’d stop at each one.

Standing in the back corner, she relied on the walls to keep her upright as passengers piled in. She needed time. Time to think, to decide what she’d say, to breathe.... sixty-eight floors should have given her the time she needed to center and gain a semblance of composure. But it went by in an instant, and when the elevator doors began sliding over, all she could do was watch in horror.

Her head was spinning, and her mind was lost in a cloud of confusion. Ethan was waiting in the lobby... for her? It couldn’t be real. Tourists and locals alike chatted happily about their evening plans as they stepped out, a direct contrast to Kacyee, who stood frozen in fear. Only the elevator operator’s gruff voice brought her back to reality.

“Ma’am, are you getting out?”

She turned to him, then back to the door, and considered returning to the grand ballroom. But something inside her stirred. Tobias was right; she was no longer playing the part of the ingenue, filled with hope and naivete that were somehow both her greatest strength and weakness. No, she was a big girl now, and whatever happened when she walked through that door... she’d be able to handle it.

“Ma’am," the man repeated with increased irritation. “Shall I close the doors?"

“Uhm. No," she said, standing upright and dusting off the front of her gown. “No. I’m getting off here.”

The world seemed to move in slow motion as she stepped into the lobby. If this were a movie, Ethan would be waiting across a crowded room, their eyes would meet in an instant, and the credits would roll as soon as they shared a perfect kiss, one that left no doubt that they were destined for happily ever after. But real life seldom ran so smoothly, as Kaycee was about to confirm. She looked all around, to the left and the right, but no sign of him. She walked the perimeter of the room, even just outside, and still... nothing. Tobias said Ethan would be at the bar, so she returned and hopped on a stool to wait and wait. She was patient at first, but five minutes passed, then ten. Her fingers began to rap against the rich mahogany countertop when it reached fifteen, and by twenty? By twenty, she had enough.

Standing up with a weary sigh, she chastised herself for opening that door even a crack. You should have learned by now, she thought as she headed toward the exit. She was almost outside when she saw Tobias coming off the elevator. She turned on her high heel and headed his way. Why lambast herself if she could lambast him? He didn’t see her coming and reacted with surprise when he felt the shove on his shoulder.

“He’s here, huh? He’s waiting for me at the bar? Well, guess what? He didn’t show!”

“Kaycee,” Tobia started, but she wouldn’t allow him to speak.

“No! Don’t Kaycee me! This is precisely l why I didn’t want to get my hopes up! This is how it always ends with us... either he walks away, or he doesn’t show... and I swore I wouldn’t put myself in this position again!”

“Kayce, if you’d just let me....”

“NO! No, I don’t want to hear what you have to say because all that matters is that he’s not here! He’s not here, and....”

Her breath hitched when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Is that....” she whispered.

“You know,” Tobias smirked. “You might want to turn around.”

She turned around slowly, and just like that, life was imitating art. A feeling of warmth surrounded her the moment their eyes met. He may have aged a little, but she’d know him... she’d know those eyes... anywhere.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, handing her a single red rose. “I stepped out to buy this from a street vendor. I thought it would be a nice touch.”

With her heart racing, she lifted the flower to her nose and inhaled its fragrant scent.

“And that took twenty minutes?” she grinned, putting Ethan at ease.

“Well, I also needed to go to the men's room. It took more than one glass of Scotch to get up the nerve to offer you an apology that could make up for eight years.”

“Ethan,” she whispered, at a loss for words.

“Well, this is the shittiest rose ceremony I’ve ever seen, and I’ve had to suffer through many an episode of The Bachelor,” Tobias observed. He pat Ethan on the back. “Nice touch, a little cheesy, but not bad for you.”

“You can go now,” Ethan grumbled.

“I was planning on it,” Tobias nodded at Kaycee, then looked Ethan in the eye. “You two can take it from here. Don’t fuck this up.”

“Can we?” Kaycee asked once Tobias was gone. “Can we take it from here, or will one of us mess it up somehow?”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” he smiled. “Why don’t we go someplace and talk.”

~~~~~

She couldn’t remember leaving the hotel lobby or how they decided where they would walk. All she knew was they ended up strolling along Central Park West, a comfortable distance between them, as she chattered aimlessly about nothing at all. Anything to avoid an awkward silence or, worse yet, an awkward conversation. While Kaycee faced straight ahead, Ethan couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She was as beautiful as he remembered, perhaps even more so. He was afraid if he took his eyes away, she’d disappear, and he wouldn’t allow that. Then, even in the dim streetlights, he saw her starting to shiver, and without missing a beat, he removed his jacket and placed it over her shoulders, bringing her to a stop.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a half step back. “You looked cold.”

“Yes,” she smiled nervously. “It is... it is getting cold.” She motioned to a food truck on the edge of the street and smiled. “I’d suggest we get coffee to warm up, but I know that wouldn’t meet your standards.”

“Is that what you want?” He asked. “Go. Go sit on that bench, and I’ll get us some.”

“You’re going to drink coffee... from a food truck?”

Ethan shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. “I have to start living a little sometime. Tonight sounds like the perfect time to start.”

He walked away, and Kaycee hollered after him. “Wait, you didn’t ask how I wanted my coffee."

He turned around with his hands in his pockets and utter confidence. “At this hour? Decaff. Definitely, decaff with a splash of milk, preferably almond, but if they don’t have that, plain milk will do. And Splenda, two Splenda... even though you know they’re not good for you.”

A slow smile spread across Kaycee’s lips. “You... remember.”

“Yes,” he nodded. “I remember everything.”

“Well, I take three Splenda now,” she winked, and he felt his heart flutter.

“Go sit,” he smiled, and she all but skipped away.

She watched his silhouette in the ethereal light, still attempting to convince herself this was real. But she had to believe it was true when she felt the steaming hot cup in her hand. She watched with anticipation as Ethan took a sip from his cup and couldn’t help but laugh when he tried to contain a grimace.

“Oh, it’s funny,” he smiled. “Do you enjoy watching me suffer?”

“No,” she whispered, gently taking his hand and placing her coffee on the bench beside her. “No, I think we’ve both suffered plenty, and I don’t want either of us to suffer anymore.”

The touch of her hand impacted him more than he could have imagined, and he found himself unable to speak. He turned to her with tears in his eyes, just managing to mutter her name before pulling her into a tight embrace. Kaycee buried her face in his shoulder, taking in the warm, familiar scent she used to know so well. One of Ethan’s hands was entangled in her curls, while his other arm pulled her as close as he possibly could. They stayed there a long while, silent and amazed at the reality – both had assumed if this day were ever to come, it would be filled with fireworks. An explosion of passion that couldn’t be felt miles away. But the reality was different. It was warm, safe, comforting, a loving embrace each had desired for so long – it wasn’t fireworks, it was coming home.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” her voice cracked. “I can’t believe you’re in my arms.”

“I’m trying to believe it myself,” he said, pulling back to gaze into her crystal blue eyes. His hand cupped her chin, his thumb tenderly stroking her cheek. “You’re so beautiful. What kind of fool am I depriving myself of seeing this face for so long?”

Kayce reached up to take his hand, gently placing a kiss on it. “Then, shall we try to rectify that now?”

“We could. If that’s what you want.”

Kaycee sat back with a smile so gentle and warm Ethan didn’t need words to know her answer. She reached up and messed up his hair. “How did we screw us up so badly? I mean, I can blame it on being young and stupid, but you didn’t have that luxury.”

Laughing, he took her hand. “You may have been young, but you were never stupid. You knew so much more than me. I know there’s no fairy godmother that will show up with a magic wand, and I know we will still have things to work out. But the thing I know most of all is that I love you. I love you with all my heart, and I’ve wasted too many years without you by my side. I’m determined to put an end to that as soon as I can.”

“You love me,” she sighed. “Well, that’s good... because I love you. I love you so much.”

Ethan reached over and embraced her, letting out a joyful groan as he lifted them to their feet. She held on tight as he spun her around, stopping to gently put her back down. They stood face-to-face, a world of memories crossing their minds as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Time and distance had done nothing to them; their love remained the same. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, lighting a flame that had flickered but never extinguished. It was more than a kiss. It was a promise, a silent vow that was a testament to their love, which had never, ever died.

“We can’t screw this up, Ethan,” she said as they broke away. “If we’re going to do this, I want this to be forever. I can’t lose you again.”

“Good!” He grinned brighter than she had ever seen. “Because I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Ethan offered his arm, which she gladly accepted, nuzzling her head into his shoulder as they started to walk.

“So, where are we going?” She asked.

“Well, I do have a hotel room nearby.”

Kaycee playfully nudged him. “A hotel room? Mister, I have a whole apartment, and it’s quite nice! You know, your girl did all right for herself!”

“Oh, I’ve kept tabs on you. I know you did.”

“Then let’s go!”

As they walked to her apartment, they passed the café Kaycee had dined in not too long ago, and she told Ethan the story of that night. How two estranged lovers had come together, and he professed his undying love. She relayed how she was trying to listen in on their conversation, but in the end, she didn’t need to since the young man yelled it out for all to hear. The crowd applauded, and she secretly paid their bill. It was straight out of a movie.

“I’m glad you got to see that,” Ethan smiled. “You always loved a happy ending.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she agreed. “And now, I’ve got one of my own.”

(Yep that last part was from Part 1. 😊)

Thanks so much for reading!

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x f!mc #tobias carrick #sienna trinh #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #playchoices #open heart #open heart choices #choices open heart #open heart fanfic

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cariantha · 4 months

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Talk is Cheap (2/2)

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Warning: Mentions of pregnancy Category: AU; Angst (with a happy ending) Word count: 2.7K Prompt: What would have been the outcome if Sawyer had discovered that she was pregnant whilst Ethan was in the Amazon? A/N: The theme song for this fic is “Go Get Her” by Restless Road.

Part One

It took Sawyer two days and ten chewed up fingernails to work up the courage to call. And it took three unanswered calls to realize that her heart wasn’t done breaking.

“Ethan, it’s Sawyer. Please call me as soon as you get this message. I really need to talk to you.”

Ethan listened to the message several times. There were only two possible reasons for her call: something was wrong, or she wanted to talk about them. The only clue he had, her shaky and hesitant voice, was not enough to go on. Worried that weeks of strategic silence and self-inflicted loneliness would be for nothing, he determined that the safest course of action was to call his mentor. Speaking to Naveen would rule out several of the “something wrong” scenarios that were racing through his anxious mind.

Ring, ring. “Hello, Ethan. It has been a while,” Naveen answered. The two hadn’t spoken since the video call that ended with Sawyer darting away from his office in tears.

“Naveen. How are you? How have you been feeling?”

“I’m fine, son.”

“Did you have your check-up with Baz this month?”

“I did. My labs were normal.”

“Good… that’s good… uh, how’s the team?”

“They are managing quite well, and June is taking full advantage of her time at the helm,” Naveen chuckled.

“I don’t doubt it. And the interns? Have they killed anyone while I’ve been away?”

“The interns?” Ethan’s attempt at small talk was already suspicious, but asking about the interns was a dead giveaway. “Or one in particular?” Naveen pressed.

Giving up his pretense, Ethan confessed, “She left me a vague message. I was concerned that something had happened. That one of you might be sick or hurt.”

“I think it’s safe to say she’s hurt, Ethan,” Naveen challenged.

“You know that’s not what I meant. Is she okay? Has there been any more backlash from the trial? Has Nash been harassing her?”

An exasperated Naveen sighed, “I don’t know the reason for her call, Ethan. And even if I did, I would tell you to speak with her yourself. Tell me, how are you planning to work together if you’re not on speaking terms?”

“Our relationship will return to that of a strictly professional one. Working together on your case, sharing that secret… the lines got blurred and I let things go too far. It was the result of heightened stress and frequent exposure to-”

“Bullshit,” Naveen interjected.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. We both know if that’s all it was, you wouldn’t have bothered to call me. You wouldn’t care this much. Now, swallow your pride like that over-priced whiskey you drink and call her.”

<><><><><><><><><><>

The following day, Sawyer stood outside of Naveen’s office. “Hi Danielle, any chance the chief has some free time in the next day or two?”

“Let me check his schedule, Dr. Brooks,” the assistant answered, clicking her computer mouse.

“Sawyer? Is that you out there?” Naveen called from inside his office. “Come on in.”

Sawyer offered a thankful smile to Danielle and then stepped into Naveen’s office, closing the door behind her. “Thanks for giving me a few minutes.”

“I can always spare a few for my grand-mentee.” He gestured to one of the seats in front of his desk. “What’s on your mind, dear?”

Sawyer took a grounding breath, then proceeded. “A lot actually. I, uh…” She paused, nervously biting her bottom lip. Then as if ripping off a Band-Aid, she came right out with it. “What is the policy for taking a leave of absence? And if I did, how would that impact my fellowship?”

Naveen pursed his lips, mentally diagnosing the situation. “Well, that depends on the type of leave being requested.”

Sawyer hung her head for a moment, and when she looked up, her eyes were glassy. “Maternity leave.”

He followed her eyes when they shifted to a picture displayed on the hutch behind him, confirming his suspicion. Naveen hoped that Ethan had taken his advice last night. With a sympathetic air, he leaned forward and folded his hands. "Does he know?"

She shook her head and bit her lips, trying to prevent the spill of tears. “He hasn’t returned my calls," she finally managed.

“I’m so sorry, dear. Is there anything you need? Anything I can do for you?”

Sawyer reached for a tissue. “I just need to know what my options are.”

He nodded.

“And if it comes to it… the process for transferring my residency.”

He couldn’t help the frown on his face. “Of course.” A short while later, with a hug and another offer of support, Naveen said goodbye to Sawyer.

"Danielle, would you mind letting Dr. Cyrus know that I am running a few minutes behind?" Closing his door for privacy, he retrieved his phone from the pocket of his white lab coat.

Later that night, in his tiny studio apartment in Atalaya, Peru, Ethan sat on the edge of the bed and scrolled through his phone contacts. He stared at Sawyer’s profile picture for a long while, gathering the strength to stay firm in his resolve, while also preparing for the worst. If she was sick, he would call in every favor he was owed. If she was moving on with someone new, he would hate it, but wouldn’t interfere with her happiness. If she was quitting… leaving… he would break.

With his thumb hovering over the call button, he was startled when the phone pinged. Tapping on the notification, he read the incoming lines of text and quickly realized that he had not anticipated this scenario.

In her bedroom in her Boston apartment, Sawyer paced back and forth. The word “Read” appeared after the last line of her text message and she anxiously chewed on her thumbnail waiting for any kind of response. Preferably a call, but she would settle for three bouncing dots and a few lines of text. A half hour later, accepting the silence as his response, she powered off her phone and tossed it aside. Curling up in her bed, she cried herself to sleep.

In those same thirty minutes, Ethan stared at the sonogram picture and choked back tears. His knee bounced up and down nervously, carefully considering what to say and do to make things right. When he finally pushed the green call button, he immediately heard her voice on the other end of the line. “Hi there, you’ve reached Sawyer. Leave me a message.” He redialed several more times, but each time it went straight to voicemail. “Dammit!”

Ethan stood and raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. He spun around taking in his humble surroundings, considering his current obligations. “To hell with it.” After calling for a ride, he tossed his phone on the bed and began shoving his belongings into his open suitcase.

An hour later, from the backseat of a taxi, Ethan made another call. “Dr. Stehl, it’s Ethan Ramsey. I’m sorry to do this, but something has come up back home in Boston. A family emergency. I’m on my way to the airport now…”

After twenty-four hours of cramped bus rides and connecting flights, and a quick stop at home to freshen up, Ethan stood outside of Sawyer’s apartment door. Taking a deep, calming breath first, he knocked.

Elijah greeted him a half minute later. “Dr. Ramsey? I didn’t know you were back.”

“Yes, just. Is Sawyer here?”

Elijah moved backward and gestured for him to enter, assuming that Sawyer was already expecting him. It wouldn’t have been the first time she entertained Dr. Ramsey in their apartment, after all. It would also explain why she passed on going to Donahue’s with the other roommates for “Ladies Night” half-priced drinks. “She’s in her room. You remember which one, right?”

Ethan nodded. “Thank you.”

“By the way, I like the beard,” Elijah remarked, closing the door. “Maybe I should try to grow one so my patients won’t think I’m fifteen anymore.”

“Hmph,” Ethan huffed in amusement as he moved deeper into the quiet apartment.

He inhaled and exhaled slowly before gently knocking on the last door at the end of the hall, the door to Sawyer’s room. Though light emanated from underneath the door, there was no answer. He knocked again, and when she still didn’t answer, he carefully turned the doorknob and peeked inside.

Sawyer was fast asleep, hugging a pillow close to her body.

Quietly shutting the door behind him, he softly padded to the side of her bed and carefully sat on the edge. Her laptop lay open behind her. On the screen, an application for residency at the Mayo Clinic in Arizona, which made Ethan’s stomach sink.

Odds were she hated him at this point. Despite the risk, he reached out to touch her. Tenderly skimming his fingers along her hairline, he brushed a few loose strands out of the way. “Sawyer,” he quietly said her name. When he repeated it, she finally began to stir and then opened her eyes.

Shocked, she bolted upright and backed away, nearly knocking her laptop to the floor. “W-what are you doing here?” she asked, trying to get her bearings.

“I came to talk. To apologize. To try to make things right.”

“Ethan, I–”

Sensing her distrust, “Please, give me a chance,” he implored. “I know I don’t deserve it, but will you please hear me out?” When she didn’t protest, he continued.

“I have been so selfish, Sawyer. When Naveen appointed you to the diagnostics team, I feared a scandal if people discovered we were together, especially with the ethics trial still fresh in people’s minds. I could never, in good conscience, put you in a position like that. You worked so hard and earned this fellowship. It’s a rare opportunity that I don’t want to get in the way of.” His eyes begged for understanding. “Please believe me when I say this… I want to be with you. So much so that I considered stepping down as team leader. Hell, I even considered resigning from the team altogether.” He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “As much as I care for you, Sawyer, I couldn’t give it up. I have spent my entire career preparing to one day fill Naveen’s shoes. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, until you. But everything between us happened so fast. It was still so new-”

“Ethan, I would never expect you to make that kind of sacrifice. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you did,” Sawyer firmly cut in.

“I know, Rookie, and that’s why I told myself the only way forward was as colleagues, and nothing more.” He made a point of looking her in the eye. “But the problem is we’ve never just been colleagues, have we. There’s always been something more between us. I took advantage of the distance, hoping that if we cut ties for a while, the connection would fade and make it easier to leave what we had in the past.”

Sawyer shook her head in frustration.

“You don’t have to say it. I can probably guess what you’re thinking,” Ethan acknowledged.

“That you’re an idiot?” she quipped.

“Yes, and you’d be right to think so. I had convinced myself it was a solid plan. As long as we still worked together, I would still get to see and talk to my best friend without the constant worry of holding you back or jeopardizing your career.” Sawyer followed when he tipped his head to the laptop screen behind her. “Knowing how badly you wanted to be at Edenbrook, and how hard you fought for the fellowship, I hadn’t considered the possibility that you would leave. When you said you might move back to Arizona, I realized my plan backfired.”

Ethan gave her a moment to process.

“Why didn’t you call or write me back after I told you about the baby?” she demanded an answer.

"I know this will be hard to believe, but I swear I was just about to call you when I got your text. You can blame me for a lot, but you can’t blame me for the sudden shock of learning that I was going to be a father. It took me a while to catch my breath and find my words. When I finally got my shit together, I tried calling. Several times. But I kept getting your voicemail.” Ethan absent-mindedly stretched his hand toward her. “Sawyer, we both know words without action are meaningless. You mean so much to me and-”

“You have a real shitty way of showing it,” she interjected.

"And I'm here now because I want to change that. You deserve better than a phone call, and certainly more than a text message. You, Rookie, have the unnerving ability to read me like an open book. I want you to be able to look into my eyes and see the truth in my words when I tell you how I feel."

Protectively clutching her pillow to her chest, she braced herself. “And how do you feel?”

“About you?” he paused, his eyes darting between hers. “I am hopelessly in love with you, Sawyer Brooks.”

She swallowed, nervously anticipating his next words.

“How do I feel about this baby?” He sighed softly. “I’ll be honest, I never pictured myself settling down or having a family. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours on buses and planes alone with my thoughts, and they were consumed with the idea of becoming a father. For the first time in my life, Sawyer, I could picture it… a family of my own... but only because you were with me in that dream. And I’m worried that I’ve fucked it all up.”

Overcome with emotion, Sawyer hid her face with her hands and sobbed.

“Sawyer?”

“Arrrrrgh,” she growled into her hands before lowering them. “I’m still furious with you… I’m not sure where we go from here… how to trust that you won’t walk away again.” She wiped her tears away. “But I guess we have a lot to figure out…” she said, her voice cracking, “because despite myself, I’m still in love with you, too.”

A wave of relief washed over Ethan. There was hope, even if the space between them made it feel like they were still on different continents.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, looking her over.

“I’ve had a little morning sickness, but mostly I'm exhausted.” She opened her mouth to say more but stopped herself.

“What is it?”

Her bottom lip quivered when she continued. “I’m scared to death.”

Ethan gently removed the pillow barrier and drew her near. “Come here.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and murmured, "It will be okay."

“You’ve said that before,” she mumbled into his chest.

He pulled back to look her in the eyes. “I’m sorry for letting you down before. I know that it will take time to earn back your trust. But I promise you, Sawyer, I’m here for you… for both of you. You can count on me,” he assured, his fingers twining with hers. “I will be the man... the partner… that you need me to be.”

They held onto each other in comforting silence for several minutes.

“I missed you, Asshole,” she whispered, then lifted her head to really look at him.

Ethan smiled. “I missed you, too, Rookie. Every minute of every day that I was away.”

Sawyer ran her hand over his scruffy beard, then over the soft leather of his jacket. “We’ve got ourselves a brand new Ethan Ramsey,” she assessed.

“This jacket’s been through a lot with me.”

“It suits you.”

Scratching his cheek, “And the beard?”

She studied him for a moment, then with the playful smile that he had missed so terribly, she teased, “You look like a dad.”

Seven months later…

Ethan stared in awe at the carefully wrapped bundle his wife held in her arms. The newborn’s tiny hand wrapped around the tip of his finger. Without letting go, he carefully nestled next to his wife on the hospital bed. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he leaned in and pressed an appreciative kiss to her temple. When he pulled back, she turned to him with a smile, soliciting another kiss but this time on her lips.

“I love you. How are you feeling?” he asked.

Before she could respond, there was a gentle knock on the door. Two older men bearing flowers, balloons, and teddy bears quietly entered. While the silver-haired man exchanged cheek kisses with Sawyer, the dark-haired man in the sweater vest moved to the other side of the bed and placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder.

“Dad. Naveen. Let me introduce you to your grandson,” Ethan announced. “Brooks Winter Ramsey.”

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #ethan x sawyer #choices stories you play #choices open heart #playchoices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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kristinamae093 · 6 months

Text

Ghosted

Ghosted - Two Steps Back (Chapter Ten)

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/N 1 - 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.

After the Regatta

Penelope hobbled to her room on a sore foot and a painfully bruised ego. This wasn’t going as expected; advisors told her toward the beginning of the season she might stand a chance, but after only the first few events, they hastily changed their tone. Between Madeleine, Riley, and Olivia, they knew Penelope would not be the new king’s choice.

Regardless, Penelope was enjoying her time away. The friends she’d made were irreplaceable; she and Kiara formed an everlasting bond. Even Riley was incredibly friendly, despite her commoner status. Penelope was rooting for Riley to win it all because she was genuinely a nice person, and Penelope was looking forward to what Cordonia could look like with her as queen.

Penelope approached her door whilst humming to herself. The day was long, and she was relieved to be in the comfortable solace of her own space. She planned on calling her parents for their daily video chat, and to get some doggy face time to tide her over while away. Her anxiety was through the roof without having them close, but the friendships she’d made were a momentary distraction. She was glad the ladies were nice enough; otherwise, this experience would’ve been a nightmare.

Penelope entered and made a bee-line for the bathroom. She did her business, washed her hands, and bounced her way over to the dresser to get more comfortable for the evening. Just as she opened the drawer, a stern knock sounded on her door. Penelope scrunched her face; she was expecting no visitors but thought perhaps Kiara wanted to hang out.

As Penelope opened the structure, a thunderous force shoved through her and entered, slamming the door shut. Penelope stumbled backward but caught her footing. She could only stare at the person in front of her as panic flourished through her body. She didn't recognize them, but the death glare plastered on their face told her that notion was not applied on both ends. Her instinct told her to scream for help, but the visitor addressed her before she was given the chance.

They spoke in a low, raspy voice. “Have a seat, Lady Penelope. We have a lot to discuss.”

“W–who are you?”

“You need not worry about who I am, only what I know.”

“What do you mean?”

The person clasped their hands behind their back and stalked around Penelope; like a vulture circles its prey. “Everyone around you thinks you're the sweet, poodle-obsessed Penny, but I see otherwise. I know all about you… The things you’ve done… What your daddy tries his damndest to hide…”

Penelope’s already increasing heart rate spiked. “I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. It’s alright, I wouldn’t want anyone to know, either.” They dismissively shrugged.

“Know what?”

The person snickered at her attempts to deflect, but they could see the panic rising in her eyes. “It’s quite a common expression — young and dumb. But, when you’re in the nobility, there are no secrets unless you know the right people.”

Penelope thickly swallowed. “I don’t – I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? So, then you’ve never been — joined in holy matrimony, right?”

Penelope’s eyes widened. “I–”

“Enough with your attempts to feign confusion; that will only prolong this process and I am not in the mood to play games. I know of your estranged marriage; how your father pays plenty of hush money per month to keep his mouth shut. I imagine it would be fairly difficult to talk yourself out of that situation if the press were to catch wind; considering Portavira continuously requests the Crown’s compensation. And I do believe the monarch would not be happy to learn your family has developed a slush fund, either.”

The intruder gave Penelope a wicked smile and added, “Not to mention the — fatality that was caught amid your poor life choices…”

Penelope visibly tensed. “That’s not – I didn’t–” she stammered before snapping her mouth closed; her flustered state prohibited her from forming an argument.

“It’s a matter of opinion, I suppose. Regardless, I attained the records from your procedure.” They waved a piece of paper in Penelope’s face, and recognition swept over her instantly. She released a shuddered breath as the document came to a stop, her tearful eyes centering on the text.

Despite Penelope’s panicked state, the aggressor continued, “Tell me, do your parents know of your aborted fetus? I mean, I saw you on security cameras entering the clinic alone. It was smart of you to use a fake name, but unfortunately, that was not enough to cover up your mistakes.”

Penelope never answered, but the assailant watched her swallow thickly with shame etched in her features. She couldn’t fathom how this stranger had found her deepest secrets that she was certain would never see the light of day.

Penelope found out she was pregnant the day after her annulment was discreetly settled. Terrified wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how she felt, as she stared down at the positive test; she went to the clinic in disguise to find out about her options and decided abortion would be the best solution. Being only nineteen years old, Penelope was practically a child herself and didn’t believe she was at a point to care for a baby like they deserved. And she was alone; when she dreamt of this moment, it happened completely differently in her head. She longed for the fairytale love, where they would start a family together; not single and inevitably disgraced.

Her parents didn’t know, she was too afraid to tell them — especially after her father agreed to pay a continuous hefty fee for Guy’s silence. Penelope was always well-behaved; the perfect trophy daughter. The look of pure disappointment held in their eyes when they found out about her marriage haunted her; she never wanted to do anything out of line again. All Penelope desired was to move on from her mistake, but life had other plans.

Panicked and ashamed, Penelope made the impossible decision alone, not wanting anyone to know of the stupid decisions that led her there. Her fear and guilt only increased after the procedure, but she grieved what could have been and pushed it into the deepest pit of her mind.

She never told a soul – nobody knew – or so she thought.

“All it would take is a small whisper to the press and it would destroy not only you, but your fraudulent parents as well…”

Penelope gasped as her tears freely flowed. “No! P–please, don’t!”

The person laughed; the sound sending an involuntary chill down Penelope’s spine. They stalked forward until her back hit the wall and they breathed over her. Penelope squeezed her eyes closed, but felt them draw nearer. The tangy scent of alcohol mixed with cigar smoke filled her nostrils, as they whispered in her ear, “If you want my silence, you’re going to have to earn it.”

Penelope’s eyes shot open as she frantically nodded her head. “Okay, j–just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

“I knew you’d see reason,” the unknown presence spoke while taking a small step away. They produced an envelope from their jacket and handed it to her.

Penelope opened it and started skimming over the information; it was an email address with a set of instructions and a few other notes. She didn’t understand what it all meant; the main thing that stuck out was the location of where they wanted the photographer to be.

“Why are they going to be outside Riley’s room?”

“The less you know, the better.” They once again reached into their jacket, this time pulling out a small vial and handing it to her. “You need to give this to her beforehand. I do not care how it happens, just make sure it gets in her system; the earlier, the better.”

“W–what is this? Is this a drug?” Penelope stammered as she stared down at the bottle in her trembling hands.

The person smiled; a dark, wicked smile. “You don’t need to worry about that; just make sure she ingests it at an early enough hour.”

Tears once again streamed down Penelope’s cheeks as she frantically shook her head and tried to hand the items back. “N–no. I can’t do that, and I won’t. I would rather disgrace myself than–”

“You’re going to do it.”

Penelope stood a little taller and yelled, “No, I won’t! I–”

Penelope received a sudden, sharp backhand to her cheek. She fell to the floor cradling her face but was soon flipped over onto her back, her aggressor pinning her to the ground. She opened her mouth to scream, but quickly closed it as she saw the gleam of a blade in the light right in front of her face.

“Make a sound and I’ll kill you right here, right now.” The attacker moved the knife to hover over Penelope’s throat, applying just enough pressure to keep her subdued. “You have two options — you either comply and do as you’re told, or this is where your life will end. If you refuse to cooperate, you already know too much, and I will ensure you don’t live to tell the tale personally. But I won’t stop there, no – I’ll ruin your parents as well; the entire world will know what a fraud you and your family are.”

“No… P–please. I – I can’t – I –” Penelope frantically stammered, trying to develop a coherent sentence.

“You can, and you will. Otherwise,” they leaned forward, close enough to touch noses with Penelope. “I’ll dig your grave myself and throw those mangy mutts in with you after. Perhaps we can make it a family affair and shove your parents inside, too. After all, being exposed to the world and losing their only disappointment of a child would leave them with nothing left to live for; especially once they know of your treacherous sins.” They sat back with a vile chortle, letting the words linger.

Penelope cried harder, her breathing rapid and erratic as her panic boiled over. She opened her mouth to shout for help despite the blade at her throat, but a firm hand abruptly pressed against her lips. “I think I’m being very understanding, actually. I could just end you and move on to the next useless suitor, but I’m allowing you to make the correct choice; to answer the call of service for your country. That commoner has no business being here; you know it, I know it, everyone knows it! We have to deal with her!”

After a tense moment of silence, her intruder grew restless. They rolled their eyes and huffed, “You’re running out of time. I’ll gift you ten seconds; agree, or...” The blade on Penelope’s throat suddenly held more force; hard enough she could feel her skin being lightly pierced. “I don’t think I really need to finish that sentence, do I?”

Penelope subtly nodded her head, afraid to move too much. Although she didn’t want to betray Riley in that way, she saw no other way out. Not only was her own life being threatened, but her parents as well; she was not willing to let them die because of her secrets they knew nothing about.

Her attacker soon chortled and sat up. “I had a feeling you would see it my way.” They patted her cheek, hard, before they stood and adjusted their clothing.

The intruder walked to the door and turned back around to address a whimpering Penelope. “As a reward for your service, I will make you a lady-in-waiting for the soon-to-be queen. I’d suggest you take the position and use discretion whenever necessary from here on out. If you do anything to compromise this operation, you will be sorry. Am I clear?“

The following afternoon, Olivia met with Liam, Leo, and Ray as they discussed the events of the night prior. The court just arrived in Portavira, although there was a break in events until the polo match in a few days. They gathered in Olivia’s room, as that’s where Ray set up his equipment and continuously ensured the area remained free of compromises.

Olivia told them about Penelope’s involvement, and Liam was certain Olivia was lying or playing some kind of sick joke. However, after seeing the proof himself, he knew it had to be true. He wasn’t close with Penelope by any means, but still felt betrayed. Riley was kind and warm to those around her, not a malicious bone in her body; what made Penelope want to get rid of her?

“We have to question her. I can’t be sure, but she might know we’re onto her. The look in her eyes –” Olivia shook her head with a heavy sigh. ”– I can’t explain it, but I don’t like it.”

“I agree,” Leo interjected. “We need to know why she did it, man, because this makes absolutely no sense. I mean, Penelope – of all people? Did she accidentally eat some dog food or something, and it made her go kookoo?”

Despite his overflowing anxiety, Liam laughed. “I really don't know. But we’re not all going to question her. I think it’s best if myself and Leo did this, so we don’t overwhelm her.” He spoke to the entire group.

“Are you… okay to do that?” Leo tentatively asked. “I can take Olivia — or hell, even Maxwell or Drake, if you don’t think you can keep your cool. We can’t really risk her shutting down and withholding anything important...”

Liam remained silent for a long moment. Honestly, he didn’t know if he could control himself. The selfish side of him wanted to confront Penelope face-to-face and demand answers. However, he knew he was teetering on a dangerous ledge, and her confession could provoke several different reactions.

He didn’t remember the last time he’d slept or ate a full meal. Days were molding together, and he had no sense of time unless it pertained to the tour. Liam was simply muttering through, doing the dutiful checklist a monarch should on the daily and trying his hardest to stay afloat; even though in all reality, he felt like he was drowning in a sea of uncertainty. No amount of training could prepare him for something like this; he was simply in limbo until one of the many open ends finally led them to something of importance. As the King he held mighty authority; yet, he’d never felt so powerless. Every second of not knowing something was torture; he just wanted to see Riley with his own two eyes.

“I… don’t think I can, actually. If you wouldn’t mind questioning her, I would very much appreciate it, Leo.”

Leo patted Liam on the back with a reassuring smile. “No problem. Care to accompany me, Livvie?”

“I suppose if we want some kind of answer, I’ll have to, won’t I?” Olivia smirked.

“Are we doing this now, or?”

“Yes. The sooner, the better.”

“And we’re certain she’s here?” Liam asked.

“She was out earlier with her dogs,” Olivia answered with an eye roll.

Liam nodded as he rubbed his palms together. “This is a decent plan. I have a good feeling about this, guys.”

For the first time since he opened his eyes to the truth about the narrative against Riley, Liam felt like this could take them somewhere relevant. This was a solid lead and although he knew it probably wouldn’t provide him with all the answers he was seeking, it was a damn good start.

Liam spoke again, “Any other updates?”

“I received the diagnostic report on Lady Riley’s dress on the way here." Ray explained. "The blood was mostly Riley’s, but traces from Tariq were present as well. There were a few hairs and skin cells noted, but the DNA only registers those two.”

“Oh… okay…” Liam quietly responded. He hoped deep down the mess was from someone else, but immediately felt foolish to let himself believe such a thing. Hearing it confirmed out loud made his stomach burn with anxiety; this is what he blinded himself to, this is what he ignored. The overwhelming guilt Liam was fighting momentarily took his breath away.

“Otherwise, there are no new leads.” Ray briefly met eyes with Olivia, the both of them having a silent conversation; unbeknownst to Liam. It wasn’t technically a lie, but not the entire truth. Ray found something — interesting, but Olivia decided now was not the time to bring it up to Liam, at least until after they learned what exactly Penelope knew. “Where Tariq is concerned, I’ve hit a complete brick wall; there’s absolutely nothing.”

“Nothing?”

Ray shook his head. “Not a trace. His accounts show no transactions, and his family has not heard from him in months. I’ve checked every mode of transportation available to leave the country and he wasn’t on any of their databases.”

“How is that even possible? There has to be something, somewhere. Seriously – Tariq has the IQ of a fucking peanut.” Leo interjected.

“It could be a collection of reasons,” Ray answered. He suddenly stopped typing on his keyboard and took in everyone’s curious expressions. “Either he’s just incredibly clever and has an immaculate ability to cover his tracks, has hired someone to do that for him, or…”

“He’s dead…” Liam quietly inserted, just above a whisper. His palms started trembling in his lap, and the only thing he could feel was his heart erratically thumping.

The deeper this web went, the further Liam felt himself slipping from reality. All he wanted was a sign, a concrete clue, anything to put him one step closer to finding Riley. The longer that time passed, the more he believed there was a grim reason they couldn’t find them. Just when the light at the end shined brighter, Liam was suddenly drug further down into the abyss of questions, making him doubt everything.

“We can’t confirm that right now, Your Majesty. I’ve searched hospital records and there are no reports of him checking in at any of them and nothing solid to point to that conclusion. There are a lot of open ends regarding his whereabouts, but I have a couple more places to look before we should start truly discussing that possibility.”

“Right…” Liam quietly responded as his mind raced. If Tariq’s DNA was on her dress, does that mean he’s the one who injured her? They already knew he was close to Riley; the pictures obviously showcased them together, but was Tariq responsible for attacking her, too? Those thoughts created a storm of rage he’d never felt before; just when he thought the fire had sizzled out, another splash of gasoline was poured onto the diminishing coals. Liam may not have felt a lot of hope, but he sure as hell felt the rage consuming his entire being.

Leo noticed Liam's forelorn expression and reassuringly gripped his shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. We’re going to get an answer — soon.”

A short while later, Olivia, Leo, and ‘Harold’ walked the halls of the Portavirian estate, searching for Penelope’s room. Liam opted to have a drink with Drake instead of being alone, as his already overflowing anxiety seemed to increase with every passing second.

They rounded the corner and Olivia tapped on Penelope’s door, but received near silence; muffled barks rang out beyond the structure, although seemingly at a distance. After a few moments, she stepped forward and repeated the process, but again, no answer. Leo knocked a few times a little louder, but heard nothing — aside from the dogs. He reached for the handle and tried to turn it, just to see, only to find it locked.

“What should we do?” Leo asked Olivia.

Olivia tapped her index finger against her chin. “I don’t know…” She furrowed her brow and stared at the door in front of her. “The poodles are inside, so she shouldn’t be far… Maybe we search around and see if we spot her anywhere? It’s still relatively early; she could have stepped out for a moment.”

Leo and Ray both agreed, and the trio began their trek. They started outside by the pool and checked the lounge area, but Penelope wasn't located anywhere. They searched nearly every floor, even the roof, but found no signs of her. Everyone else was already in their room for the night, the estate nearly deserted as they scoured the abandoned hallways. After a while, everyone agreed to take their chances and return to Penelope’s door, as a good hour passed since they last attempted.

A voice called out to them as they made their way up the grand staircase. They turned around to see Landon making his way to them with a grin on his face. “Good evening, Your Majesty, Duchess, a pleasure to see you both. Are the two of you just strolling, or have you been out on the town?” He chuckled with a playful side eye directed at Leo.

“You know me,” Leo smirked, “but actually, we’ve been looking for your daughter.”

Landon’s smile faded, instead replaced with a perplexed expression. “What do you need from Penelope?”

Leo and Olivia shared a hesitant look. “Actually, it’s confidential… Do you know where she is?”

“She said she was retiring to her room earlier.”

Olivia spoke next. “We checked there. We checked everywhere and we have no clue where she’s at.”

“Perhaps she’s already in slumber; she is quite the heavy sleeper. How about I come with you? I was headed there anyway, as she was acting fairly strange earlier.”

“Strange how?” Leo asked.

“She kept hugging her mother and me, and told us how much she loved us. She just seemed — sad, as if she would burst into tears at any moment. And she asked me to ensure Merlin and Morgana get plenty of treats.” Landon furrowed his brows and shook his head. “I asked her what she meant, and she just gave me another hug. Emmaline thinks she’s getting ready for her time of the month, which is why I came prepared.” He held up a wad of chocolate bars and laughed.

“I take it Merlin and Morgana are the poodles?”

“Oh, yes. They’re practically her children. It’s been hard on her to leave them at home, but she’s done fairly well. The unexpected route changes actually ended up being very beneficial to her, since she gets to be with them for a few days. I’m certain she’s going to have a hard time leaving again, but I know she appreciates getting to see them. When it was time to leave for the engagement tour, she was practically inconsolable; she didn’t want to leave, to the point we weren’t sure she would attend at all.”

“So, she didn’t want to return, then?” Olivia inquired, hanging on his every word.

Landon sighed and looked away. “I don’t believe so, no. But we made sure she knew how much of a tremendous opportunity this was for her. She was incredibly reluctant, but finally agreed. In all honesty, I think most of her reservations were regarding the fact that she was going so far away. Penelope is a very timid girl; she doesn’t particularly enjoy the crowds or being away from home. I’m confident staying in Cordonia where things are a little more familiar will turn things around for her; perhaps she will enjoy herself a bit.”

“Right…” Olivia trailed off, as her mind swirled around these new little bits of information. She questioned if Penelope's reluctance to come back had to do with Riley's disappearance. The haunting look in Penelope’s eyes as that cab drove away told Olivia she could be correct.

“Lead the way, then,” Leo inserted with a forced smile, as uneasiness crept into the pit of his stomach. The hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood at attention, an involuntary shudder traveling through his body; he shook it off and politely smiled at Landon, who returned the gesture before starting the journey.

Everyone strolled through the halls together and within a short time, they were nearing Penelope’s room once again. Leo and Landon made small talk along the way, but Olivia didn’t listen most of the time. A bad feeling rapidly grew as they walked; why, she wasn’t sure, but it was becoming impossible to ignore. As they got closer, the air suddenly felt cold, raising goosebumps on her skin and sending a shiver down her spine. The hallway had an eerie aura to it that was beyond explanation; judging from the cautious expressions of everyone around, Olivia knew her feelings were not in her head. Landon appeared to be the only one who didn’t notice the atmosphere shift, although he hadn’t stopped talking long enough to take in the environment.

Just as they were about to arrive, they heard muffled voices speaking not far away. Olivia furrowed her brows and started walking faster, practically running, with Ray and Leo not far behind.

She came to an abrupt stop as she saw a litter of guards standing outside of Penelope’s room; dressed in full riot gear with what she assumed to be loaded assault rifles, all appearing to be awaiting instructions. Standing toward the back of the mass of people was Liam, who was speaking with Bastien in hushed tones. She could tell even from afar he was talking sternly; his angry demeanor instantly drew Olivia to him. Drake lingered close-by, wearing an expression of pure confusion.

Olivia approached them and inquired, “What’s going on?”

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you,” Liam replied. “Did you question Penelope?”

“We were looking for her, that’s why we’re here, now.”

“But you didn’t find her?” Liam snapped, not even trying to hide the annoyance in his tone.

“Not yet…” Leo answered as he took in Liam’s tense shoulders and ticking jaw. “Liam, what is going on?”

Before Liam could respond, Landon interjected himself. “What is the meaning of this?!”

Liam took a deep breath to calm himself and spoke in a calm, yet authoritative voice. “Duke Landon, I understand this may be hard for you to hear, but we have to take Penelope into custody.”

“Custody?! On what grounds?!” Landon hollered.

Liam swallowed down the ball of anger and agitation lodged in his throat and spoke in a flat voice. “She is the prime suspect in the murder of Rhonda Floros.” Everyone’s eyes widened as their jaws hit the floor. “We will investigate further, but she has to be detained until we can–”

“I – what?! You have no proof! This – this is an injustice!” Landon yelled as he frantically paced in front of Penelope’s door.

Leo hesitantly spoke in a hushed manner. “Li, all we knew about was the photographer. How can you jump to that conclusion?”

“The forensics came back and Penelope’s prints were all over the murder weapon. Her DNA was on everything else as well, but I’m focused on that knife.”

“Impossible! There has to be some kind of mistake!” Landon pleaded.

“I’m sorry Landon, but the forensics does not lie,” Liam replied with a sad smile. “Trust me, I don’t want to believe she could have done something like this and I intend to figure it out, but we have to locate her first!"

Landon quickly stepped toward Penelope’s room and pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “She is in here — I know she is; she’s sleeping. I’ll wake her up and we can figure out this mess together, because I know for certain she is innocent.” He spoke as he unlocked the door and turned the handle. He entered and flipped the switch on the wall, the area becoming illuminated.

Liam motioned for the guards to stay outside and followed closely behind. Olivia entered next, followed by Ray. However, a stern hand on Ray’s chest halted him in the doorway.

“You are unauthorized personnel,” Bastien snapped.

Liam quickly intervened. “No, he’s not.”

“Your Majesty, with all due respect, I entered his credentials myself. I know for a fact what clearances he has and doesn’t.”

Liam stepped up to Bastien with narrowed eyes. “Poof.” He snapped his fingers. “I just gave him access. Now, step aside.” He growled through clenched teeth, the vein in his neck profusely popping out.

To be honest, Liam was stalling until he found Ray and Olivia; the three of them were going to question Penelope together. His earlier worries about keeping his cool were well out the window; now he was simply confused. Why did she hire the photographer? Did she really kill that maid? Did Penelope know they had spoken to her? Every piece of random evidence found had Penelope’s DNA – and only hers – on it in some fashion. Although the legitimacy of the scene was still in question, her fingerprints on the murder weapon were more than enough to detain her for questioning.

Bastien never once took his eyes off Ray during the entire interaction. Ray observed Bastien's face crack slightly and saw him swallow and clench his jaw when Liam commanded him to stop. He finally moved his hand to allow Ray entrance, but held his intent gaze for just a moment too long. Olivia watched and noted how she wasn’t stopped, nor Drake or Leo — only Ray. She couldn’t help but wonder why Bastien didn’t want him specifically there.

Liam glanced around as he entered and saw no signs of Penelope and nothing raising any kind of alarm. He’d never been inside this room before, but to the naked eye, not a thing was out of place. However, Liam couldn’t deny the sudden chill he felt as he stepped over the threshold. His skin instantly clammed up, and his heart rate increased substantially with every tense second that passed.

Everyone else followed behind and did the same, but Landon circled the room while frantically calling Penelope’s name, only to get no response. He ducked into the bathroom to check there, but saw no traces of his daughter. Everything appeared just as it was earlier that morning when he personally prepared everything for Penelope’s arrival.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Landon huffed as he reemerged. “She said she was coming to bed. Where else would she go? Should we contact Lady Kiara? They had grown quite close.”

Liam sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Bastien, send someone to Lady Kiara’s room to check.” His patience with this situation was dissipating. An answer was right there dangling in front of his face; he could practically taste it. Even if he had to turn the entire continent upside down, Liam was going to find Penelope and make her answer for her part in this mess — whatever that could have been.

“Yes, sir.”

Olivia glanced at the dresser and saw a jewelry box. Something on top of it quickly caught her attention; it was a piece of paper neatly folded with the words read me written on it in red ink. Her breaths immediately stopped as she stared at it for a long moment. Goosebumps raised on her skin as she realized the penmanship was strikingly familiar.

She slowly reached out and brought it closer; Ray noticed and came to stand beside her to see what she had found. Liam and Landon continued to speak on the other side of the room, completely unaware of their discovery. Olivia carefully unfolded the sheet and quickly scanned over the contents. As she started reading, the color suddenly drained from her face, her hands trembling, and even tears were forming in the corners of her eyes. Her mind instantly started spiraling, trying to decipher what this meant.

Olivia and Ray stood gawking at the paper in a trance for an unidentified amount of time. The sound of Landon’s thunderous voice suddenly brought both out of their dazes. “This is absurd! She did nothing wrong!”

“I understand your frustrations but as I said before, the forensics does not lie,” Liam answered in the calmest tone he could muster. “I have questions about all of this, Landon! But one way or another her DNA was littered–”

“Bullshit! Run the tests again! Something is going on here!”

Liam winced at Landon’s volume, but shook it off and stood to his full height. “Duke Ebrim, you’d do well to remember who you’re speaking to and watch your tone. While I understand why you’re upset, I’m only here to figure this out. If you want to clear her name, help us find her so we can speak to her!”

Landon frantically looked throughout the room, desperately trying to make sense of what was happening. At that moment, they heard a bark, followed by another softer cry; everyone suddenly stilled and an eerie silence took over, as they glanced at one another with furrowed brows. It sounded undeniably close, but there were obviously no dogs in the area. The silence in the air was deafening, but then it happened again and Landon finally pinpointed the location — the closet. It would make sense; Penelope heard the commotion and retreated in there with her poodles to hide because she was afraid.

Landon made a bee-line for the door and wildly swung it open. He took a step back and two fluffy dogs slowly came out with their heads down, causing Landon to take a few steps back; they laid at Landon’s feet and whimpered.

“What is it, Merlie?” Landon asked as he rubbed one of the dogs’ heads, their howls intensifying.

The room’s air suddenly felt incredibly thick at the interaction. Liam felt physically sick to his stomach as recognition swept over him from head to toe — something was waiting for them in that closet. His hands shook at his sides, his breathing shaky and uneven as he stared into the dark, open doorway.

Landon stepped over the poodles, who went and lay on the bed, but continued whining. As he entered, he ran a hand along the wall until he found the switch. The small area came to light, and his worst nightmare suddenly became reality right in front of his face.

“NO!” Landon wailed at an ear-piercing volume as he dropped to his knees near the doorway.

“What’s wrong?” Liam sought, but Landon broke into a fit of sobs and crumpled to the floor.

Liam swallowed thickly and took a couple of cautious steps forward. Olivia suddenly appeared and tried to redirect him, but Liam was steadfast; whatever it was, he needed to see it for himself. As he got closer, he could see a chair lying on its side. His eyesight started on the floor and slowly traveled upward. He hadn’t made it very far before the color drained from his face with sweat immediately beading his brow at seeing a pair of dainty feet dangling in the air; one heel on, the other nowhere to be seen.

Liam looked away but with a shuddered breath followed the body back up to the face, and sure enough, it was Penelope.

Landon suddenly shoved Liam out of the way. “MOVE!” He rushed over and held Penelope’s lifeless form, lifting her easily with one hand; the other quickly moving to remove the belt from around her severely bruised neck. Her limp body dropped into his arms and he cradled her to his chest as he rocked back and forth, making cries that would haunt Liam until the day he died.

Liam regained his footing but remained cemented in place. This was it; this was their big break, but they only received more unanswered questions. Hopelessness flourished, as he saw no other solutions in sight. He felt like a mouse, mindlessly running through a maze just trying to reach the end for the reward. Penelope's testimony was that reward, but instead of finding the end of the maze, he encountered a sudden, abrupt wall.

Regardless of their actions, they faced a grim reality where a devastating setback countered every advance they made; one step forward, only to be met with two deadly steps back.

Liam suddenly couldn’t breathe; his lungs felt like fire with every rapid, hollow breath. The room started spinning, his vision hazing at a rapid rate. His heart pounded mercilessly, the sound overpowering Landon’s continuous wails filling the room. His hands flew to his chest and he stumbled backward, Leo and Drake quickly moving to catch him before he hit the floor.

They lowered him to the ground and sat over him as Liam’s vision slowly faded out, their faces disintegrating into a pixelated, blurry image. He blinked his eyes a few times to regain himself, but found the rapidly spinning room made him nauseous. He felt Leo lightly tapping his cheeks, but when he tried to open his mouth, only an anguished cry escaped.

Liam stared at the ceiling until the bright lights suddenly dimmed. His eyelids grew incredibly heavy until he succumbed to the weight of the world forcing them down. Darkness consumed him as he slipped into unconsciousness, a still silence overcoming his being.

"Goddamn it," Leo grumbled to himself, as he watched Liam’s body relax. "Get a fucking ambulance! Now!" He hollered over his shoulder before his teary vision centered on his brother again. "Cummon, Li..."

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bebepac · 4 months

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Traditions

This is a special holiday edition of School Dayz. To catch up on the series in general please click School Dayz

I am participating in @choicesdecember2023 for Christmas

I am also participating in @choicesprompts holiday rewrite challenge in which I used the candy cane gram scene from Mean Girls.

I am also participating in @choicesflashfics christmas prompt # 59: "Ice-skating? Do you seriously trust me with knives on my feet?" will appear in bold. I also used a previous prompt as well Are you seeing this too or am I having a stroke?

Series: School Dayz

The Book: TRR (no royals)

The Pairings: Liam x Riley

Word Count: 1464

Warnings and Ratings: None. This is for anyone who has eyes. A total fluff piece.

Original post: 12/31/23 at 7:15PM EST.

Science class was different for me now that I no longer sat next to Liam, and shared a table with my sister, since Mrs. Barbour decided to make the class sit in alphabetical order, which I think the only reason for the change was to make taking roll easier. I glanced across the room to Liam whose partner was now Rashad.

My adorkable boyfriend who caught me watching him, smiled and held up his hot cocoa cup to toast me from across the room. Liam was the sweetest boyfriend and stopped by the local coffee shop Brew Bros and always got hot chocolate every morning the way that I liked it.

So I smiled while holding up my cup.

“Oh my God, can you two be any more nerdy?” Taylor asked.

“He’s nice, and you reap the benefits of it too. My boyfriend brings us both hot chocolate, or in your case a coffee drink you like every day without us asking.”

Taylor cocked her head to the side and air toasted Liam, taking a sip from her drink when the door opened.

“Ho , Ho, Ho!!!!! Candy Cane Grams, sponsored by the National Honor Society.”

“Make it quick, Santa.” There was a hint of sarcasm in Mrs. Barbour’s voice as she went to sit at her desk for a moment.

“And his lovely assistant Max Noel!”

“Wait… a sec… Are you seeing this too or am I having a stroke?”

Taylor doubled over in laughter “It is!!!! It’s Drake Walker-Claus.”

Taylor’s laugh seemed to antagonize Drake for a second, but good thing he had his assistant Maxwell. His brooding mood was offset by Max Noel making the class laugh with his dance versions of Christmas music as he followed around the room behind him.

“Hana Lee one for you.”

“Chris Powell four for you, you go Chris Powell!”

“Do we have a Riley Brooks here?”

“That’s her Max Noel. She’s Riley Brooks and looks nothing like the girl sitting next to her. Those two can’t possibly be related.”

“Riley Brooks here you go, one for you.”

“Thank you Santa.”

“Um….”

“And nothing at all for Taylor Brooks, not even coal or black licorice, bye.”

Drake and Max ran out of the room.

Taylor looked at me with curious eyes at the candy cane gram in my hand.

“Who’s that from?”

It wasn’t any of her business. I opened the envelope and read silently to myself.

Liam’s sweet words made me smile, and I didn’t have to answer her, and I looked at him from across the room.

“Oh my god. You guys are too much.”

Taylor looked upset, even though she shrugged it off. Later I found out why at her locker.

“I told you to get me a candy cane gram Nico!!!!”

“Well you telling me to do it, takes the surprise out of it. Me not doing it, guess what you were surprised weren’t you?”

My sister who was always loud looked at him and said nothing.

Before I knew it the words flew out of my mouth.

“Wow, you’re a really bad boyfriend Nico, my sister deserves better than you.”

I slammed my locker walking away from the two of them. I found out later that day, my sister broke up with him, in front of everyone in true dramatic Taylor fashion. I was proud of her.

Christmas Eve

Everyone had come over and was enjoying mom’s Christmas cookies and snacks. My dad brought in a big box sitting it down on the floor.

“I want to thank everyone for coming over tonight to spend time with our family. Our children picked people they care about to spend this time together with you. Ren and I are happy to have you in our home. We both grew up in the foster care system, and learned early in life, sometimes the people that care about you most, are not your blood relatives. So we try to celebrate that.”

“And when we had the opportunity to open our home up to two adorable identical twin girls, we couldn’t say no.” My mother chimed in.

“It’s the best decision they ever made. I went to sleep one night wishing I had a little sister. The next morning I woke up with two.” Jaiden spoke up.

“And we know what it’s like to be alone on Christmas, or missing someone special on Christmas that you were once close to. So we wanted to do something special. Liam would you mind sharing the Christmas Eve tradition you had that you told me about?”

“Christmas was my Mom’s favorite holiday. Every Christmas Eve that I can remember she’d dress us up in these ugly Christmas sweaters

and we would go ice skating on Lake Pine. She loved to ice skate. Then she’d make us take these dorky pictures in our Christmas sweaters that matched. I miss her a lot.”

“I miss her too. I’m not adopted, but Liam’s Mom always made me feel like I was her son too. So I really get what you’re saying about family not always being blood related. She was my mom too.”

Liam hugged his brother.

My dad opened the box.

“With a little help from Riley I found some what I would think are hideously awesome ugly Christmas sweaters, and am secretly happy for your love of Star Trek too. I’m sorry Liam, you can’t be the Captain, this is mine. But this one is yours.”

“Well if I can’t be Captain, being the science officer is the next best and most logical choice.” Liam took his blue sweater graciously.

“That’s what I said! Dad please say you got me a blue sweater too.”

“I did.”

After all the sweaters were handed out, there was still one left in the box.

“Guess you guys bought this before I broke up with Nico. No big deal.”

Once everyone was dressed, they headed out to the vehicles, and Liam stuffed the extra shirt into Leo’s trunk.

“I really don’t know how this is going to go Liam.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ice skating? Do you seriously trust me with knives on my feet?”

“Well good thing you’re not just Riley Brooks today, you’re the science officer for the USS Enterprise. Live long and prosper.”

Liam expected Riley to be as horrible on ice skates as she had been on roller skates, but Riley amazingly was incredibly balanced.

“Have you ice skated before?”

“No! I don’t know how I'm good at this! I usually have no natural balance.”

“You’re a natural at skating…”

“Ice skating. Let's clarify that.”

Taylor was still sitting on the bench watching the couples skate by. “She still hasn’t gotten out on the ice yet. I think she’s feeling lonely and the extra shirt probably made her think of Nico.”

Liam’s phone beeped. “Why don’t you go sit with her for a little bit, and I’ll be back in a few with some hot cocoas for us all.”

“Is cocoa your favorite drink?”

“Yes, and my mom used to always say your heart won’t feel cold if you always have a nice warm cup of cocoa. It always makes me feel better.”

I went to sit with Taylor and Liam continued walking toward the concessions stand.

“You okay?” I asked Taylor.

“I just don’t feel like skating, and look over there.”

Nico was there, with another girl on his arm.

“To be honest I never liked him Taylor. He called you T, like you were a drink or a shirt or something. He wasn’t even really that nice. Good riddance, I say.”

“I never thanked you for standing up for me that day Riley. It really meant a lot.”

“You’re my sister Taylor. I will always have your back, even when you pull me into a tornado.”

“Not on purpose!” She laughed.

“Oh it never is.” I remarked pulling Taylor closer to me in a hug. After a few seconds she pulled away from me.

“What are you doing here?”

“Helping Liam deliver hot cocoa. This one is yours.

I don’t like all the extra stuff in mine.”

Drake handed Taylor her cocoa, as he sat down next to her.

“Just hot and cocoa pretty much then right?”

“Exactly. I’m not that difficult to understand.”

“Do you like to ice skate, Drake?”

“Like it? It’s okay, but I can. Would you like to skate Taylor?”

Drake took off his coat wearing the remaining ugly sweater.

“Okay.” Taylor said in a nonchalant voice.

Taylor’s mood picked up immediately as she skated around with Drake on the ice. She never once glanced in Nico’s direction.

“That was really nice of you to do Liam.”

“He really does like her, you know. Maybe now she can finally see him with Nico out the way.”

“You’re so adorkably sweet Liam.”

“I know Riley, I know.”

#bebepac writes #bebepac still writes #christmas fic #choices fandom #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trr liam x riley #school dayz #adorkable liam #adorkable riley #trr no royals #choicesprompt #choicesflashfics #choices monthly challenge #choices fic writers creations #fic of the week

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choicesficwriterscreations · 2 months

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March MC of the Month: Evie Ayana

Please welcome March 2024's MC of the Month! Each month, we highlight one MC or OC on our Meet My MC / OC List. They are selected randomly on the Wheel of Names, and eligibility requirements can be found here. We accept MC / OC profiles on an ongoing basis. Please feel free to send yours in!

This month’s MC of the month is…

@cadybear420's Evie Ayana!

More below...

1..In your own words, tell us what you like most about Evie.

It’s hard to choose a specific thing… but most probably her drive to keep moving forward.

Before coming to Berry, Evie dealt with social anxiety a lot in her old schools. She didn’t have many close friends, she struggled to talk to people she liked, she had a little more insecurity about joining certain social/group activities, etc. And she’d lived in the same house all her life up until moving to Cedar Cove, so she wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about moving up north from the Bay Area and leaving behind what friends and memories and familiar places she did have.

She does start out as a little more impulsive and “holding herself back” when she first comes to the school– unsure how to respond to Brian at first, unthinkingly introducing herself as “Emma’s wingman” to Caleb, gives Hugh a startled look when they make eye contact at the school assembly. She didn’t have quite as much drive for change yet and wasn’t expecting much from the school, but she was definitely going to stick with the few friends she did make (such as Emma).

But one thing she did somewhat hope for was that Berry High was a new change of pace. And as Principal Hughs said on the first day assembly in canon, “That’s the great thing about a fresh start. You can be anybody you want to be”. This was perhaps the core motivator for Evie to start changing things. Soon enough, she comes to realize that Berry is sort of this “fresh start” for her, a chance to find herself in a brand new environment. She wants to be someone who is sure of herself, someone who can get shit done. And a school that strives to be welcoming to all is the perfect environment for that. That’s kind of what the OG HSS Trilogy always was to me. High school, but if it were, y’know, actually good.

So, Evie is partly motivated by the fact that the environment at Berry is much more welcoming, and partly motivated because of the opportunity of a fresh start in a new town. And so she starts to push herself out of her comfort zone a little and soon becomes a lot more outspoken, protective, proactive, and helpful towards others. Evie becomes a lot more confident through her journey at Berry High.

One major motivator for Evie is that her first friend and the one who takes her under her wing when she’s lost and nervous at the start of her first day, is Emma Hawkins, a socially awkward wallflower. So right away, she has some companionship with someone she can relate to a bit. And not only that, but seeing someone as socially awkward as Emma have no problem extending kindness to her, kind of motivates her to do the same with others.

Another major green flag for Evie is also probably in her involvement in sports. In Evie’s old high school, she had considered joining football, but was nervous about it due to the team being all guys and not co-ed. Evie is fairly secure in her enjoyment of certain sports and wanted to join the football team at her old school, but was nervous about not being allowed to join and seeming like an idiot for trying to do so. She had heard that some schools might make exceptions for girls who wanted to join, since there generally wasn’t a girls’ football team, but she was still very nervous about the possibility of “sticking out like a sore thumb”.

But since she was most familiar with Caleb of all the people she saw in the cafeteria and knew him to be a friendly guy, I had her sit with him and the other jocks at lunch that day to maybe get the chance to know more about the football team. Much to both of our surprises and delights, the sports teams at Berry are all co-ed and Caleb and Julian encouraged Evie to join football. And the best part? As she was on football, basketball, and baseball, she was treated like yet another part of the team. Rather than being pathologized, patronized, sensationalized, or tokenized for being a female football player/jock on a team of mostly guys… she was just treated as normal (Sonic Boom Knuckles would be proud, haha). As per canon, Brian did make a few comments to her during that one mini-race, but Caleb nonchalantly shot them down.

And lest we not forget her beloved Aiden Zhou. He’s passionate and dedicated to his creative craft; but also shy, reserved, socially awkward, and afraid of coming off as a screw-up or a failure in social interactions. A major reason why Evie is so drawn to him (along with her finding him incredibly attractive) is that she sees a lot of herself in him, and she can relate to him. She sees how passionate he is, and that inspires her to do better herself. It inspires her to keep doing better. And as she works to improve herself and move past her own struggles, she can sort of connect with Aiden and help him with his struggles as well, as she understands to some degree what that sort of social anxiety feels like.

2...Do you feel Evie is like you at all? How are you alike or different?

Evie is very based off of how I am, especially when it comes to the little details. She’s a cat lover, she’s a picky eater and especially hates spicy food, she’s fairly into sports and writing, she’s obsessed with scented products and cute stuff, she’s pretty horny-on-main, and a lot more. I had Evie be a jock in each of the three books because I myself was involved in sports when I was in high school (though I was more of a track-and-field/runner and I didn’t really have a lot of experience in football, basketball, or baseball; meanwhile, Evie gets experience in each of those). I can’t play an instrument to save my life, and cheerleading is absolutely not my thing, and so the same applies to Evie.

But in a more general sense… Evie is partly based off of who I am, and partly based off of the kind of person I aspire to be.

When I was in high school, I sort of dealt with social anxiety a lot, and even now I still struggle with it a fair bit. I did get along with a fair amount of people, but it was on a very superficial level with most of them and so I wouldn’t exactly have considered myself “well-known” back then. So I’ve imagined the same for Evie.

The difference, of course, is that Evie is much more outspoken, social, and heavily proactive in the school community than I was when I was in high school. I mean, I was a bit like that myself every now and then. But with Evie, she sort of gets more opportunities to be that kind of person, and she had somewhat more drive for it. And that’s what allows it to manifest. That doesn’t mean her anxieties go away by any means, she just becomes better at managing them.

Though, one thing I’ve liked about generally being more shy and reserved is that it did sometimes help me stay a little more aware of boundaries, if that makes sense. Evie is much the same, and although she becomes a more confident person throughout her story, that doesn’t mean she also can’t be aware of boundaries– and that especially shows with how I had her approach her crush on Aiden in the first book.

Evie took a slight interest in Aiden when she first met him; it started out as superficial, but it developed into an actual more deep attraction when he invited her in to listen to him play. She’d sort of push herself to talk to him and hang out with him, but for the most part, she knew not to explicitly flirt with him (not that he’d really have minded in the game but yeah). Occasionally she’d be a little bit forwards with him by accident (see: teaching him how to do “sexy moves” at Brian’s party), but wouldn’t express explicit attraction to him until when he asked her to homecoming and admitted he did like her.

And once she knew that he liked her back, she was much more comfortable with explicitly making romantic gestures/moves onto him. I’d never gotten that far with any of my high school crushes, but if I had, I certainly would have been the same. (It’s also worth noting that the more I replay the series, the more I feel like Aiden and I both share similar qualities as well, so naturally I envision Evie as someone who can relate to him).

A final MAJOR way in which Evie and I are very similar is how very GNC we are. I’d say Evie is a lot more openly masc/butch leaning than I am, especially appearance wise (as much as I wish I did, I do not have defined muscles like Evie does, lol). She prefers to keep her hair short; she loves masc clothing like pantsuits, tuxes, boxers, and swim trunks, and she takes pride in her more masc body figure. Similar to me as well, there are a few feminine-associated things (for lack of better wording), such as flowers, glittery/sparkly patterns, heart shapes, general cute stuff, etc., that you can pry from her cold, dead hands. But there are certainly a lot of feminine-associated things she has a distaste for indulging in, such as wearing short shorts or high heels or doing cheerleading– not because they’re “feminine,” but quite simply because they just aren’t her thing. We also both have major bottom dysphoria and would rather die than ever get pregnant.

3.. What is most important to Evie? What is their motivation in life?

Stability.

Not just being sure that she can end up in a good point in life and nothing changes from that, but also being sure that if things do change, she will be able to manage it. Even when things are at their worst point, she wants to do what she can to fix the problem and make the situation better.

For a lot of her life, Evie has been very unsure about what specific thing she’d want to be doing in the future, and while she agrees with the “it’s okay if it takes a little longer for you to decide” sentiment that people tell her, she does also know that she can’t spend her whole life indecisive, and the fact that she’s still figuring things out frustrates her sometimes. And as I’ve mentioned before, her and her dad’s move to Cedar Cove was initially very hard on her. Even as she gets settled in Berry and Cedar Cove, she worries about anything that could possibly disrupt it.

A big contributor to her drive for stability is her parents’ history. After her dad Scott and Emma’s mom Julia had gone their separate ways with university as per canon, he’d eventually meet a woman in his year but with a different major. Her name was Rani, and he’d fall in love with and marry her after they’d both got their graduate degrees. Rani eventually became pregnant, but it was only a few months into the pregnancy when she realized she was not interested in being a parent.

Scott, of course, had always wanted to be a dad, but he respected Rani’s decision. So, due to this contrast of life goals, the two divorced on amicable terms. Rani was okay with carrying the baby AKA Evie to term (though Scott was okay with it if she wanted to terminate the pregnancy), and after that she’d simply take on the title of being Evie’s Auntie Rani. And it was heartbreaking for both of them because they were otherwise a perfect match.

Evie knew the full story growing up, and while she did not resent Rani at all for leaving, knowing that story had amplified her own cautiousness– particularly when it came to her own romance. She’d crushed on Aiden, wanted to be official with him, and fell in love with him long before he did with her for each of those points, but she didn’t want to push anything too suddenly onto him. Often, she’d wait until moments, such as when Aiden confessed to liking her after asking her to homecoming or when he confessed he loved her at prom, before she’d start taking things further. She wouldn’t express romantic gestures and attraction to him until after he said he liked her. She wouldn’t confess her love to him until after he confessed to her.

That doesn’t mean she’d never initiate, though. She’s the one who took Aiden outside to talk about becoming official, even though he ended up being the one to ask her to be his girlfriend. After their moment on Hearst’s rooftop, she had started making plans to ask him to be her date to homecoming (but of course, Aiden beat her to it). And she was the one to (as per my headcanons) dip him in their first dance at homecoming and (as per canon) initiate their first kiss during that dance.

And make no mistake, all those moments– learning Aiden liked her, having a steady relationship with him that year, to the point of them becoming official in late February and him confessing he loved her at the end of prom, and seeing Aiden become a more confident and self-assured person throughout their relationship… she was incredibly happy about all of it. But in the back of her mind, she sometimes couldn’t help but think it to be too good to be true. Sometimes she feared that they’d end up the same way her dad and her Auntie Rani did: a seemingly perfect couple at first, all until one singular but major area of incompatibility.

Later on in their relationship, she would start to become fussy over making sure Aiden actually enjoyed what he was doing with her, telling him she didn’t want to force him to do anything he didn’t want to do. This would become a point of contention between them, as Aiden would be a little upset at Evie not being fully sure in his choices. But in the end, they’d be able to work it out together. To this day she still isn’t fully sure about what she’d do if she and Aiden ended up separating, but she would become better at being able to manage any difficulties or disagreements between them. She would do what she could to better the situation. The two would eventually get married (Evie being the one to propose), having talked about it prior and both being sure that they were happy with each other.

As for everything else in her life? She does slowly become more welcoming to change. As of now, I don’t imagine her going through a lot of sudden changes in her life, but she does become more comfortable with the idea. A year after they marry, Aiden and Evie move out of Evie’s old house and into a cozy apartment in the Bay Area, and then move back into Cedar Cove but in their own home when they decide they want to have kids. Events like these where Evie does have a bit more control over the situation, do help her get used to the idea of major change.

4.. What are Evie's biggest pet peeves/dislikes?

Evie loathes gender essentialism, gender complementarianism, TERFs, and the like (Then again, any person with common sense would loathe those things, haha). But especially as someone who is very openly and proudly GNC, she just absolutely loathes them. She hasn’t experienced a lot of direct bigotry from TERFs herself, but to put it briefly, she’s been paying attention to their behaviors, and she’s not having any of their bullshit. Especially not with their blatantly two-faced behaviors towards GNC cis people (especially cis female athletes with even the smallest bit of “masculine” features, AKA people like her3). All the more reason why she sings her praises to Berry for having co-ed sports.

For something on a lighter note… she can’t stand spicy food despite her South Asian heritage. A bit of mild spice is alright, but very spicy food is just… she doesn’t get the appeal at all. She’s generally a very picky eater, even being averse to most South Asian dishes. And overly spicy food is probably the bane of her picky eater existence.

I imagine she just also dislikes… bullies in general. In her old schools, she would get bullied quite a bit, but she never quite knew how to stand up to them. So at Berry, she does try to change that, starting with standing up for her friends (like Emma) who get bullied. She aspires to be a protective girlfriend to Aiden and an overall reliable friend. It’s not always easy– such as when Isa and the hall monitors screw over Aiden and band and cheer, when band and cheer turn on the basketball team, or when Max and Kara frame her for sabotage. But she doesn’t let it stop her. She always tries to get through it, one way or another.

5.. If Evie could change one thing - anything - what would it be?

I’m not fully sure, honestly. I imagine there are lots of things she’d want to change.

Although it’s a bit more general, Evie would change… a lot of her past. She has way too many moments of “I look back on this thing I did in the past, and I fucking cringe at it.” She knows she’s grown from all that and has become a much better person, but it’s just hard for her to not feel bad about herself over her past mistakes.

For something that’s a little more specific, her parental situation is something she’s sometimes wished she could change. To reiterate, she does not resent Rani for leaving and understands why she did. But there have been times when she’s wished that Rani and Scott never separated. From what Scott had told her, Rani sounded freaking awesome to her, and she imagined she’d have loved having her as a mom, along with Scott as her dad.

Rani would sometimes visit them, taking on more of a title of being Evie’s Auntie. But she wouldn’t visit often because it could be very awkward knowing the past, especially so when she and Scott hadn’t fully moved past their feelings for each other.

Evie and Scott have had a very healthy relationship, but the situation with Rani has created some confusion for both of them. With Scott, he’s often feeling guilt. He’d told Rani that he was okay if she didn’t want to carry the pregnancy to term– Evie knows this and understands, but he sometimes feels guilty for having felt that way about Evie, even though it was before she was born. But he also sometimes feels guilty about giving Rani a pregnancy she ended up not wanting and seeing her carry that pregnancy to term even after realizing that, even though she had agreed to it at first and agreed to carry it to term anyways.

I headcanon a big part of why he’s extra sweet to Evie, on top of her being his daughter, is the fact that he sort of considers himself lucky to have ended up with Evie. Rani chose to carry the pregnancy to term, even though both she and Scott were well aware that she was in every right not to. He’s always wanted to be a dad, and he got just that. So he tries his best to not take her decision for granted.

With Evie, she’s certainly fine with having just Scott, but she’s known the story of Scott and Rani’s separation ever since she was very young and it’s hard for her not to feel like she missed out on having Rani as a mother figure. But she also sometimes feels guilty for feeling that way, knowing Rani did not want to be a mother.

At one point or another though, she does come to terms with her parental situation. Rani would come to visit more often when she could as she and Scott were eventually able to move on from each other.

6.. What is Evie’s favorite quote or song?

I don’t think Evie can really pick just one song, haha. Though Evie can't play an instrument for shit, let alone compose a song and a lot of the musical terminology Aiden uses is mostly just pure jargon nonsense to her… she's quite the enthusiast for good songs and soundtracks.

She excitedly raves to Aiden about her favorite soundtracks from movies, video games, TV shows, etc. Often, she'll even recommend a show or movie to him partly on the basis of it having a bomb-ass soundtrack and almost 100% of the time, he will enjoy it, and they'll rave about the best parts of the soundtrack together.

So it’s a little hard for Evie to pick just one song (or one quote, for that matter). Probably something Aiden composed for her, but I’m not sure.

7.. Is there anything else you’d like to share about Evie?

I guess I’d like to ramble a bit about how fun it is to build the character of my OG HSS MC, both within the game and outside of it.

In Choices, I generally tend to prefer MCs with a more open-ended backstory and especially choices in what kind of personality they have and how they respond/behave/act. I know even the most choice-based story can’t account for every single granular detail about what we want for our MCs, but most of the time I just like being able to decide *who* my MC is whenever fitting. I like being able to make choices for the MC, and create my own backstory for them that sort of informs said choices, maybe even make two different versions of the MC that feel like completely different people from one another. (Truth be told, I’m a fan of any MC that’s allowed to have a spine and be proactive in the story, but the ones that are flexible in their character score extra major points with me).

OG HSS is definitely a series that allows for stuff like that, which is part of why both the trilogy and the MC are my favorites of all Choices. There’s a lot of variety in the kind of story experience you can have, and probably only two or three moments where default dialogue made me go “Evie would not say that”. Honestly, I don’t think the series would have had nearly as much of an impact if MC had only one activity they could do, or one singular specific backstory for Scott and their mom and their old school.

Although I haven’t really played as a MC other than “Evie Ayana” in any of my 7 playthroughs, I have tried a couple of different choices and routes for her. Once I’ve had her as a band kid instead of a jock, and I loved all the extra moments she could get with Aiden. Twice I’ve had her romance Michael, and as much as Evie would be attracted to him, they do not have all that much romantic chemistry (and so I’m making a new HSS MC for his route). One time I’ve even had Evie try and side against her own team at the basketball game in Book 2… and oh my God, it was so puke-inducingly out-of-character for Evie that I had to scrub it from my HSS screenshots history.

Once I’ve deliberately made mostly bad choices for her (outside of her activity), and it was quite interesting to see outcomes such as losing the baseball game, losing homecoming crown and guest-of-honor-– and most notably, how she can lose her tryouts spot to her respective Hearst rival if she’s been mostly awful to the Hearst kids, even if she’s otherwise good at the actual tryouts. Like hello? I can make my MC not be nice? And face consequences for it? I like. I’ve sometimes seen the HSS MC get flak for being “too perfect” or “too much of a fantasy” or “not having much personality”, and I’m just like, “Honey, with all due respect… they’re only perfect because you made them that way.”

I’ll admit, with the most recent playthrough I did to record Evie’s official storyline, I did make the choices that would lead to the “good” outcomes. But with most of it, I was just making whatever choices felt right for the kind of character I wanted for Evie and then let things take their course. I wanted her to be someone who was fairly good at her sports. I wanted her to become someone who tries to step up and be a leader, and someone who is outspoken about her opinions and stays true to them, but also knows her boundaries. But sometimes she can act without thinking and that does make her very self-conscious a lot of the time, even as she becomes more confident throughout her time at Berry. Some of it was more intentional– I did want her to be fairly competent at her activities. But other stuff like the homecoming/prom crowns felt more like bonus things for her.

Fun Fact: during my most recent playthrough, where I was recording the official choices and outcomes in the story for Evie, I kind of wanted a way to represent her lack of experience in baseball since I headcanon it’s Evie’s first time doing the sport. So what I did was I just took my glasses off and backed away from the phone screen a bit when the minigame choices were in session. And Evie did miss a few of the throws, but performed mostly successfully in the end, getting the tryouts spot and winning the baseball game.

I’ve actually gone through a couple of different “canons” for Evie, throughout each of my 7 playthroughs of the story. I’ve tried different routes and options for the sake of trying them out, but there are quite a few choices I’d imagined as “canon” for her that are now different. When I first played the trilogy, Evie was actually named “Cady Heron” after the main character of Mean Girls, my favorite HS-based movie (Scott calling her “Cady-bear” all the time is how I came up with my username). She had the blonde beachy waves hairstyle in the first book, and was a bit more openly flirtatious with the characters she liked (Aiden, Michael, and Maria), she told Koh’s secret to Isa out of panic and thinking that it would get Isa off of Koh’s back. I imagined her having figured out clear goals for herself by the end of the first day: take down Brian and Zoe, and get with Aiden+Michael+Maria.

But upon developing her character, I was sort of trying to make her a bit more like me. With that in consideration, Evie would have been someone who wouldn’t be so openly forward and would take secret-keeping pretty seriously. In my “Evie’s official choices” playthrough I did have her slip the secret to Isa, but it felt so wrong, and so I had to restart the chapter right after the choice in order to choose otherwise.

And I am planning to make a couple more OG HSS MCs too. One will be a male MC named Alan Parke, a cheerleader who is a total diva– he’ll romance either Maria or Emma, and he’ll be very flirty, preppy, and pompous. Book 3 would be a sort of a character arc for him where he may have to set his self-aggrandizing habits aside as he comes to sympathize with fellow male cheerleader Kieran, with whom he’s competing in tryouts. Another will be a female MC named Violet Jones, the one I’ll have to romance Michael. She’ll be a lot more suave and no-nonsense– she hates self-policing and is a lot more quick to call people out on their crap whenever she can, and will certainly have a lot more romantic chemistry with Michael than Evie did.

And I’m definitely gonna have one or two MCs that are utter screw-ups at everything in the game– crap at their activities, they don’t win the dance titles, they’re cold to the Hearst kids. And I also wanna do a couple of playthroughs that switch activities between books. Some that are more slow-burn in their romances. I’m even planning an “AU/alternate timeline” playthrough where Evie tries band (and is mostly crap at it). Agh, there are so many route combinations I wanna do in HSS!

Bottom line: it’s just really fun to give my MCs their personalities and make them feel like my own, and it especially applies with Evie. It brings me joy to build her character and share/discuss it with the fandom here (as well as seeing how others build their MCs too)!

#cfwc mc of the month #high school story #cadybear420 #meet my mc #choices fic writers creations #playchoices #choices stories you play #march mc of the month

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tessa-liam · 3 months

Text

Turning the Page

Now and Then

- Chapter 9-

Choices, The Royal Romance, AU

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

Turning the Page Series Masterlist

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!OC Riley Brooks

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

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

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

Words: 2498

Now and Then – 9

Chapter Summary: Riley and William arrive in Cordonia

Title & Music Inspiration:

Now and Then, The Beatles

When You Love Someone, Gretchen Peters, Bryan Adams

Wherever You Will Go, The Calling

A/N2: My submission for @choicesflashfics, Week#67, prompt #1 - “Nothing could ever change how I feel about you.”

A/N3: My submission for @choicesjanuary2024, prompt Day 25 - ‘Remembrance’ #choices monthly challenge @lilyoffandoms #choicesjanuary2024

A/N4: Damien Nazario has been assigned as William’s personal bodyguard.

In Flight, Cordonian Royal Jet, above the Mediterranean Sea

Looking out over the vast expanse of water below her, and under the clear blue skies above the Mediterranean Sea, no clouds were in sight ... not a white cloud, nor a black cloud.

Riley gazed out the large passenger window of the private jet, in solace, with her memories. Everything felt calm; almost too calm. The flight from New York to Cordonia was eight hours in duration, and even though they left early in the morning, they would not arrive at the palace until late in the evening with the change in time zones.

Trying to and not getting any rest, her thoughts returned to the events over the holidays.

...Remembering when Liam arrived at her door, in New York on Christmas Eve, a short week ago. The expression of elation on his face as she opened the door for him...

[‘Hello, my love,’ he tenderly smiled; He was standing there with an exquisite bouquet of long-stemmed red roses, as uniformed delivery drivers from the toy store waited patiently at a distance behind him, as the Royal guard performed a security check.

Liam stepped over the threshold, leaning down to draw her in for a kiss on the cheek, as she accepted his gift. ‘Oh Li, these are gorgeous; thank you so much.’

At Bastien’s prompt, the delivery people entered the brownstone with prewrapped gifts and placed them under the Christmas tree, also filling the extra space in the living room very quickly.

Chuckling, Riley watched as Liam thanked them with a generous tip, as he closed the door after them.

“Our son will be so thrilled at what Santa brought him; wait till he wakes up tomorrow.”

Liam laughed, moving quickly to put his arm around her, pulling her to his side. “Who says all these gifts are just for him? Hmmm?” Riley turned her head towards him, as Liam bent to capture her lips in a passion-fueled kiss.

“Ah yes, your gift is right here.” Liam slipped his hand inside his coat to reveal a small box, wrapped in gold with a red ribbon. “This is for you.”}

Riley breathed out, shaking her head.

...Remembering wanting him so badly that evening ...as he kissed her forehead to say ‘good night’ before turning to the guest room; Leaving her feeling so confused, once again.

...Remembering how excited LiLi was when he saw his father again Christmas morning ... and the look of pure joy in Liam’s expression as he watched his son blissfully playing with his new toys.

...Remembering the look of adoration between Liam and his son; a private and sacred bond established between the two ... a bond only meant for them.

Riley looked down at her phone and smiled fondly at the picture of William. He was proudly standing beside his gingerbread house gift for Liam, alongside Daniel and Matteo, to smile at the camera. Riley marveled at how unequivocally her son loved his father, so quickly. As if two loose puzzle pieces finally clicked into place. There was never a doubt in her mind that William needed to be wherever his father was. The connection between father and son was undeniable.

...and with those thoughts, she agreed to return to Cordonia.

And now, she found herself on the Royal jet headed back, leaving behind her New York world for the place that shattered her ‘happily ever after,’ again.

Liam, being the new, ever-doting father was pointing out to his son the shores of Cordonia through the window. She saw the look of marvel in Liam’s eyes, as he watched his son’s reaction to seeing Cordonia for the very first time. They were sitting in seats across the aisle from her as she glanced over.

Catching Riley’s eye, Liam responded with a wink and a smile.

"Welcome home, love."

Riley smiled in return, as her heart skipped a beat.

Home...

It had been a while since she had felt this way about Cordonia. Another lifetime; so much has changed, and yet remained the same.

***

Damien Nazario, the Interpol agent who was now permanently assigned to be William Rys's personal bodyguard, was reviewing the Crown prince's dossier, and his duties to the Cordonian crown, his new employer. Bastien took a seat beside the young agent to answer any questions he may have, as head of the Royal guard, at the rear of the plane's cabin.

"So, Damien, any questions for me?"

"No, sir. I believe I have a handle on the situation.”

"Good, because you are now the official head of the security detail for Prince William, the future king of Cordonia."

"Understood, sir.” Damien was well aware of the complexity of a constitutional monarchy.

"Now, there's one more thing I need to discuss with you,” Bastien eyed the young agent.

"Yes, sir?"

"Madeleine Amaranth, the former queen of Cordonia. I have forwarded her updated dossier to you."

"Yes, I've read it through.” Damien paused, waiting for more information.

"Good, because she has expressed malicious intent towards Prince William and Lady Riley, should they return to Cordonia."

"Understood. I'll ensure her movements are tracked and reported inside and out of the country, sir."

"Thank you, Damien.”

"My pleasure, sir.”

Bastien, looking pleased, leaned back in his chair, checking the time on his watch, as he felt the plane begin its descent.

Cordonia, Capital

The jet touched down smoothly on the tarmac, as the engines powered down. The cabin door opened, and the stairs were lowered.

Riley could feel the warm breeze blow past her as she stepped off the plane.

Taking a deep breath, Riley looked around. The air was different here. It was fresh and clean. She closed her eyes and let the wind brush her cheeks.

Liam followed, with William sleeping in his arms.

"Is everything alright, love?" Liam’s brows were raised in concern, noticing her hesitation.

"Yes, I'm just taking it all in." Riley, looked down, unable to keep eye contact.

"Are you sure, Riley? You've been very quiet throughout the entire flight home."

"I'm fine, Liam. It is just a lot to process. I'm just a little overwhelmed."

"All right, I understand. Let us get to the palace, so you and William can get settled and rest ... okay?"

"Yes, thank you, Liam."

Liam glanced over at Riley with concern as he personally buckled his son into the car seat. It was quite easy for him to see and feel the apprehension in her mood. She could not hide her emotions from him as well as she always thought she could.

Riley had remained noticeably quiet during the ride to the palace as well, looking out at the passing countryside. Liam could not help but wonder if she was having second thoughts about returning to Cordonia, and/or to him.

As they pulled up to the palace gates, Liam looked over at Riley, noticing a small smile on her face.

"What is it, love?" Liam spoke softly, reaching for her hand.

Riley returned his touch with a squeeze. "This place...it's beautiful."

"Thank you, that, it is. Welcome home."

“William will be so excited when he wakes up.” Riley glanced at a still sleeping William as the SUV slowed to a stop.

"I can't begin to tell you how much it means to me.... to have you both here." Liam confessed.

"You're welcome, Liam. It's the least I can do."

Liam's heart sank at her words. He hated the distance between them. He wanted to take her in his arms and make everything right, but, for right now, he knew that was not the best strategy.

He had to accept that things had changed, and their relationship was different now. He had to be patient and give Riley the space she needed.

But he also had to make her see how important she was to him. He had to show her how much he had missed her ... that he wanted a future with her and William in Cordonia.

As the SUV door opened for her, Riley felt a sense of Deja vu. This was where she had started her journey with Liam in Cordonia all those years ago. And now, here she was, back again.

"Do you want me to take you and William to the guest wing, or do you want to stay in my chambers?"

"I would like to stay with you, if that's okay."

"Of course, Riley. I would love that."

It was surreal for Riley as she walked the pristine palace halls towards the Royal Chambers. Liam carried William, who was fast asleep in his arms beside her.

The memories of the past times she was here flooded her mind and her heart ached as she pushed the painful memories aside. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.

As they reached the large double doors of the entrance to the Royal east wing, the guards opened the doors for Liam and Riley to enter.

Riley stepped inside; the same chambers where she had spent so much time before. The familiar scent of Liam's cologne filled the air, sending a wave of longing for a past time through her mind.

Walking into her room ... it was exactly as she remembered it. Everything was in its place, from the elegant chandelier hanging above the bed, to the intricate paintings adorning the walls.

Riley took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bed. She looked around the room, taking in every detail.

She felt a pang of sadness as she remembered those past times.

After tucking William into his bed in the adjacent room, Liam came in and sat down next to her. He gently placed his hand on hers, and she looked up at him, their eyes meeting.

"What are you thinking about Riley?"

"I'm okay, Liam. I was just thinking about how much things have changed since I was here last."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and held her close. "I know it's a lot, but I'm here for you, and I'll help you in any way I can," Liam whispered.

"Thank you, Liam."

He pulled away and cupped her face in his hands, staring into her eyes intently. "You're welcome, Riley. Always. Nothing could ever change how I feel about you.”

He moved in to press his lips to hers, and she melted into his kiss.

It was soft and gentle, and full of longing.

He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. "God, Riley, I've missed you."

"I've missed you, Li."

He leaned down and kissed her again, deeper this time.

His tongue swept across her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth to him.

Their tongues tangled together in a dance that was familiar and yet new.

They were no longer the same people they were when they had last been together. They were both older and wiser, and the passion between them burned even brighter.

Riley pulled away and put her hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating beneath her palm.

"Liam, I..."

"Shhh."

He placed a finger over her lips. "Don't say anything, Riley. Just feel."

His lips found hers again, and the world disappeared. There was nothing but the two of them, lost in each other.

She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

She moaned into his mouth as he slid his hands down her back and pulled her closer.

He broke the kiss and buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent.

"Riley," he breathed. "God, I want you so much."

“Liam, I ...”

Liam pulled back and looked into her eyes, “stay with me tonight.”

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aria-ashryver · 4 months

Text

I Cannot Bear To Hold You With These Unworthy Hands

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow

Pairing: Aerin x m!human!MC (Dorian Silvertongue)

Words: 2.4K

Summary: After the night they spent together, Aerin weighs his troubled thoughts, trying to muster the strength to leave the bed, leave the tent, leave Dorian behind.

(or; Aerin writes his stupid little letter)

Ratings/Warnings: Teen - brief allusions to the fact that Aerin and MC have just slept together; brief mention that Baldur was abusive; brief mention of self-inflicted injury

A/N: A little ✨Aerin angst✨, as a treat! I haven't written for him (or Blades) before, so I'd love to know what folks think of the style and characterisation! Also, if you enjoy atmosphere (and being in pain), this piece was written to Adam Skorupa and Krzysztof Wierzynkiewicz's A Nearly Peaceful Place

@choicesficwriterscreations

Aerin was a smart man. He knew that. Prided himself on it, in fact. He’d always been quick-witted, clever, his rigorous education obvious to anyone he spoke to. There wasn’t a puzzle he’d ever come up against that he couldn’t unravel with ease.

Until Dorian.

The celebrations in Riverbend had continued well into the night; beyond the confines their tent, Aerin could still hear the light refrain of a flute, the slow, poignant swell of a fiddle, as a pair of minstrels played their longing to skies littered with stars. It wasn’t so loud that he couldn’t sleep through it; beside him, curved protectively around him, Dorian’s breath had evened out into the slow rhythm of true sleep.

Aerin felt him sigh against his skin. His body was warm with rest and the lingering heat of their lovemaking. Not for the first time, Aerin marvelled at how utterly, hopelessly stuck he was.

Not in the least because, even asleep as he was, Dorian didn’t seem as though he would deign to let him go any time soon. The man had a build borne of long years of physical labour and swordsmanship; those iron-banded arms hugged Aerin firmly against his chest, one arm looping around his waist, the other curving around his shoulders. He held him so sweetly, so securely, that it seemed that Aerin’s half-baked escape plan would fall apart at the first hurdle — namely, ever getting out of this blasted bed.

An alarmingly vocal part of him hoped that that would be the end of it.

Because that was the other thing that gave him pause. Try as he might, Aerin simply couldn’t make up his mind.

He should go.

Right?

Right. He should go.

Leaving the party, leaving Dorian —a gasp hooked in Aerin’s lungs— it was the right thing to do.

A breeze shook the walls of the tent, the burnt gold silks cracking and shuddering in the wind. How much nicer it would be, to just stay in the bed.

It was warm, inside. Next to Dorian. Everything was soft linen sheets and warm wood, the tent’s furnishings humble and plain, but comfortable. The candles burned low at the small table where they’d sat together and shared a cup of wine earlier that evening.

They’d talked for an hour or two after slipping away from Riverbend’s quaint little festival —Dorian had laughed at his own jokes, as he was wont to do, and he’d grinned at Aerin’s acerbic wit in a way that had his stomach tripping over itself— and then Dorian had kissed him like there was nothing and no one else in the world at all.

Like the answer to every question he’d ever had was as simple as that.

How easy it would be to pretend. To stay here, his head nestled on his lover’s chest, listening to the slow rise and fall of his breathing. How easy, to forget the outside world existed.

Aerin’s mouth twisted in a bitter smile. It was exactly the sort of irony he ought to have expected, he thought. All his life, he’d been trapped. Trapped by Baldur’s abuses; trapped by the minutiae of courtly decorum; trapped in a role wherein no one would ever see him as a person, merely an idea, a ghost of a farce of a mockery of what they all thought a “Prince” ought to be.

Then, when the abuses had worn him down to nothing, and he’d thought to seize some measure of independence for himself… It had been mistake after catastrophe after vainglorious disaster that had won him nothing but regret and a year-long stay in a cold cell.

Now that he finally, finally had the freedom to make decisions for himself, now that he had a chance to atone and do some good with his wretched excuse for a life, well.

How ironic that that very freedom was little but another cage.

Self-loathing was a demon that pressed him bodily into the sheets, turned the warmth around him hotter by degrees until it was suffocating.

Doing right by Dorian meant being worthy of him. And being worthy of him meant he’d have to shatter the nascent trust growing between them. He’d have to betray Dorian, again, after all the kindness he’d shown him.

They had been three days out from Riverbend when the party had set camp one night, and a whip-thin fox had darted across the edge of the clearing. It was clearly wild, its hackles raised in gnawing hunger and fear, but Dorian had simply grinned and hunkered down with a strip of dried meat in his hand.

It had taken him most of the evening, but eventually Aerin had returned from gathering kindling with Mal to find the creature eating the meat right out of his outstretched fingers. Another half-hour of gentle coaxing and it had chirruped and curled up right in Dorian’s lap.

Mal had rolled his eyes, shaking his head as if he found the whole thing laughable. Expected, even. As though he knew how little chance anything —anyone— had of resisting Dorian’s charm.

As Aerin had stroked disbelieving fingers through the creature’s flame-red pelt, he’d finally understood that the gut-deep pull he’d been feeling since their first kiss by the lake was some combination of a deep, pervasive sadness… and a potent yearning.

An unabating ache.

Teeth, and claws, and snarling wildness; none of it seemed to bother Dorian. A deep-rooted instinct to lash out in self-defence, stemming from a life of fear and pain, it was simply no match for his easy smiles and slow coaxing. Once Dorian Silvertongue set his sights on something —on someone— they were all but his. Aerin yearned for Dorian to tame him, as patiently and painlessly as he had the fox.

When they’d packed up camp the following morning, the fox was gone, but the feeling lingered.

And when they’d happened upon a particularly tricky patch of forest trail not long after they’d left the clearing, Aerin hadn’t been able to resist taking Dorian’s outstretched hand.

For a fleeting moment, Aerin let himself imagine he could stay.

That the pair of them weren’t tangled up in a mess of his own making; that the hand Dorian had held so gently wasn’t covered in blood he couldn’t wash clean.

That maybe they’d lace their fingers through one another’s to stroll along the piers of Port Parnassus, taking in the markets and the brisk night air. That they could be just a pair of travellers, unremarkable, unburdened save for the kiss of salt upon their skin as ocean mist sprayed up from the docks.

Laughter on their lips as an unexpected swell left them drenched.

Perhaps he’d get the chance to get back at Dorian for those godsawful sausages he’d had them all eat at the festival tonight — they could taste the fare from various street vendors, feed each other unfamiliar fruits and spiced wine of dubious vintage.

…He’d buy Dorian a handcrafted ring to replace the one he still wore on a chain around his neck. One that wasn’t a mark of Whitetower, of the Valleros family, but just him.

Just Aerin.

An honest gift from one beating heart to another, both of whom had known far too much pain and burden. A mark of a new beginning.

Dorian’s skin was hot beneath Aerin’s cheek; stifling a gasp, Aerin pulled back, blotting away the few errant tears that had begun to pool on his chest.

He stared long and hard at Dorian’s sleeping face. The way his hair fell in his eyes. The bruised shadows beneath them. The rasp of stubble at Dorian’s jaw that even now he could feel burning against the delicate skin of his thighs, his neck.

Dorian’s shifted slightly in his sleep, his fingers spasming on Aerin’s skin, clutching at him in a way that had a flurry of butterflies alighting in his stomach.

Frozen, Aerin caught his lip between his teeth, scared to move.

Hoping Dorian wouldn’t wake.

Praying he would.

It would be selfish of him to stay, he should go. He was a smart man; he knew he should do what needed to be done. It was the right thing to do.

Never mind that even thinking of walking away from the one good thing he’d ever had in his accursed life felt akin to shoving a knife into his own chest.

He’d done that, once.

The Nerada stone hadn’t wanted to budge, the rituals he’d undertaken to free himself of Shadow corruption were long, and laboured, and exhaustingly brutal, but he’d taken that pain as penance.

Somehow, it hurt less than the thought of Dorian waking to find that Aerin had betrayed him yet again.

Sand hurtled through the hourglass as Aerin let his looming choices fall by the wayside.

He knew he was running out of time.

But right now, all he wanted to do was memorise exactly how it felt to be held.

It was with a slow reluctance that Aerin drew his unworthy hands away from the only person he’d ever loved. Easing out of Dorian’s grasp, he slipped from the bed. Located his smallclothes in the jumbled pile of leather and linens and weaponry on the floor. Pulled those on. His trousers and boots, those too.

The heat of Dorian’s skin still warmed his palms; an echo that he knew would fade all too soon. He tugged his tunic on over his head, hopeful the clinking music of buckles and straps might rouse him from his slumber, dreading whatever excuse he’d make if it did.

Aerin knew Dorian hadn’t been sleeping well since his escape from the Ash Empire. Most nights he’d wake with a scream catching in his throat, a skittering panic in his eyes that Aerin knew well himself. More cruel then, that the fates would have him sleeping so peacefully tonight, the marks Aerin had left on his throat a brand, a traitor’s kiss, a ghost edge of a knife wound.

Aerin finished dressing.

Dorian slept.

He crossed to the nightstand, poured himself a glass of water from the decanter. Tried to swallow past the tightness in his throat.

Still, Dorian slept.

Would he think of him, Aerin wondered? Would Dorian ache for him the next time he bedded down alone?

…would he even be alone?

Aerin clamped his jaw shut against a swell of sudden nausea. He knew Dorian was open with his affections, and he’d thought he didn’t begrudge him that —what he shared with Mal was strictly physical, at least on Dorian’s part, though his blossoming relationship with Nia hadn’t survived their confrontation with the Dreadlord— but for a moment, bitter, ugly jealousy made him feel ill.

Would this second betrayal be enough to carve Aerin’s name out of his heart for good? Push him back into Nia’s arms?

Aerin swallowed.

Perhaps it was better that Dorian hate him. He didn’t deserve his kindness, much less his love. Not after everything he’d done.

Dorian was a blazing comet streaking through the night sky; Aerin the empty void he lit with his passing. He didn’t regret the night they’d shared together; far from it, he couldn’t remember ever being happier. Just this once, Aerin had longed to blaze up alongside him, lost in his fire, in his light.

Just this once, he’d wanted to cling to him as he burned.

It had been better than anything he’d ever dreamed.

Aerin set the glass down, his hands shaking around the decanter as he poured himself a second glass of water.

Of course he had to leave. How could he kid himself that he could have a place amongst the great heroes of Morella? Him — a hero? Who was he trying to fool?

Jaw clenching, Aerin took a seat at the table, drawing some papers and ink from his satchel. He laid them out with slow precision, hating himself, hating the world, hating everything he had to do.

Behind him, Dorian gasped in his sleep; it was an agonised shock of sound that cut Aerin to the quick. He leapt to his feet, crossing the tent to perch on the bedside as Dorian jolted himself awake.

‘P-please!’ Dorian gasped. ‘Don’t. Don’t!’

‘It’s alright,’ Aerin said.

One of Aerin’s hands came up to cradle Dorian’s face; the other rubbed soothing circles against his chest. Dorian’s hand flew up to clutch at his wrist.

‘Aerin?’

‘I’m here, it’s okay,’ Aerin murmured. His heart clenched painfully as Dorian’s sleep-addled gaze locked onto his and immediately grew less panicked. ‘You’re safe, Dorian. I’m right beside you.’

Almost before he’d finished speaking, Dorian’s eyes drifted closed — but not before he’d slid his hand higher to lace their fingers together where Aerin’s hand still cradled his face.

It was almost too much.

It would be so easy to sink back into that bed, sink back into a sense of belonging he didn’t deserve.

Aerin sucked a strained breath against the tightness in his lungs, gently extricating himself from Dorian’s grasp. He didn’t know if it was some ill-begotten vestige of Shadow, lingering in his chest even now, or if breathing was simply beyond him where Dorian was concerned.

Every time they met each other’s eyes, the air in Aerin’s lungs turned to pitch.

Perhaps… he could stay? Dorian’s love would alight him, and the pitch in his lungs would blaze and burn, every breath between their kisses turned golden and glowing with light and fire.

Perhaps he should leave.

Let it cool and harden. Let his lungs solidify. Let him never draw a joyous breath again.

He should leave.

He sat at the table, his pen poised above the crisp parchment. He stayed frozen in place for so long the ink dripped from the nib, pooling into a dense, black blot on the page. It soaked into the paper, the sight eerily reminiscent of tendrils of shadow bleeding into smooth, pale skin.

Aerin choked down the tears, the bile threatening to rise, and scribbled down the only useless words he could muster.

Dear Dorian,

I apologize for leaving so abruptly, especially without saying goodbye...

...what a Gods-forsaken joke.

Drying his eyes, Aerin stole one last look, not knowing if he would ever see Dorian again. He wanted to kiss him goodbye. Wanted it so desperately it burned. He wanted Dorian’s eyes to flutter open at the first touch of his lips; for his hand to snap out one more time to clutch at Aerin’s own; for him to whisper please.

Please, Aerin. Don’t go. Stay with me.

Dropping the folded parchment on the table, his fingers trembling, Aerin turned to leave, knowing he was a jester, he was a fool, he was the realm’s most miserable joke.

#blades of light and shadow #bolas 2 #aerin valleros #aerin x mc #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #cfwc lgbtqia+#🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈

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angelasscribbles · 2 months

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My Lonely Valentine (The Agreement) A One-Shot

Series: The Agreement

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Rating: NSFW 🍋🍋🍋

Warnings for this chapter: Lemons, or should I say almost lemons? Lemon adjacent?

Word Count: 3,269

A/N: This is a prequel one-shot. Occurs before the events in the main series.

Submission for the @choicesholidays Valentine's Day prompts.

My other stuff: Master List.

Riley walked into the informal dining room of Balymore, her estate in Valtoria, to find the table draped with a red silk cloth, flames flickering from wrought iron candelabras, and gleaming silver cloches gracing the tabletop.

Her mouth fell open and she turned to her husband in name only in astonishment. “What is all this?”

“Oh…ah…” Drake stuttered over his words as his brain spun frantically trying to find the right thing to say that would make his romantic gesture less romantic and not awkward. “I…um…I know you were disappointed that Liam had to cancel your plans for today, so I just wanted to do something to cheer you up.”

Disappointed was an understatement. It was Valentine’s Day and Liam had cancelled their plans. She shouldn’t be surprised. She should be used to it. But it hurt. A good cry and a hot bath had helped, but after a long nap, she’d found herself ravenous. Her quest for food had led her downstairs where she’d followed her nose to find the source of the delicious aroma wafting up to her.

Confusion pinged through her as she took in his demeanor. “What about your plans? Didn’t you have a date?”

“Yeah, well, that fell through.”

“Oh, Drake, I’m so sorry!” Her voice was full of so much sympathy that he felt like an ass for lying.

“It wasn’t anything serious anyway.” The truth was, he had canceled the date when he’d realized Riley would be left home alone. He had only asked the girl out so that he wouldn’t be home when Liam arrived. Not out of jealousy, but fear of discovery. He was sure his best friend could read his love for his supposedly in-name-only wife all over his face.

It was getting harder to fight his feelings for her. The more Liam fucked up and neglected her, the harder it became.

He wasn’t jealous of Liam per se. He loved the guy, and he was fully aware of the myriad web of circumstances that had led to him having to marry for political alliances and not love.

Still.

The effect it had on Riley was the same and it hurt him to watch her suffer. He had agreed to marry her to keep her at court and near Liam. A marriage of convenience. A favor for his friends. An act of service for the two people he loved most in the world.

The problem was that the longer they lived together, the closer they became and the harder he fell. He had tried to fix it, put distance between them, but his stupid, traitorous heart wouldn’t let him move on. And he had tried.

The first year they were together had been so full of turmoil that he had just focused on getting her through it. Once they had moved to Valtoria and she had settled into her new position as Duchess, she had encouraged him to find a relationship of his own.

“You shouldn’t have to suffer just because I am.”

The full truth of the situation was that he had only half-heartedly dated so that she would stop worrying about him and his happiness. Because he would do anything for her. Even date other women. But his heart had never been in it.

Every relationship he had entered had ended before it really began. Two or three dates at most. Several of the women had dumped him citing with confusion that he seemed to actually love his wife.

Everyone on the planet could see that, apparently. Everyone but her.

Because she was too busy letting Liam break her heart over and over.

“Still. I’m sorry your date canceled. I know what that feels like.”

“I’m fine.” He brushed her concern off with a twinge of guilt but telling her that he had been the one to cancel would just open up questions he wasn’t ready to answer. Or more to the point, questions he wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answers to.

He would confess his feelings right then and there if he thought she returned them. But she was in love with Liam. He knew that.

“Stop worrying about my love life and come eat before it gets cold.”

She inhaled deeply as she stepped toward the table, “It smells so good! What is it?”

“Deep fried chicken and cheese stuffed avocado.” He told her as he pulled her chair out for her.

Her face lit up as she sat. “Really?”

“Yes,” he affirmed as he took his own seat. “I know it’s your favorite.”

“But…how? I gave the kitchen staff the night off!” Neither of them had planned to be home.

“Oh, ah…” a flush spread across his face as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I made it.”

She pulled the cloche off the plate then turned her head to him in bewilderment, “You made this?”

He scoffed while shaking his head. “Don’t act so surprised. I can cook. You know this.”

“I mean yes but this is next level!” The avocados were browned to perfection and served with a beautifully roasted Mediterranean vegetable medley, garlic mashed potatoes, and piping hot Ciabatta bread.

He tried to lighten the mood. “I’m offended that you’re this impressed, Riley. I have mad kitchen skills.”

“I know. I just can’t believe that you did all this for me.” A single tear slid down her cheek.

He leaned forward in concern, wiping the tear away. “Hey, hey, hey! What’s that about?”

“Nothing,” she smiled at him through the wetness pooling in her eyes. “These are happy tears. I didn’t think this day could be salvaged, but you somehow managed it.”

“Yeah, well, what are husbands for?” He gave her a disarming smile as he sat back in his chair and turned his attention to his plate.

She laughed at their shared joke. He always said that when he did something nice for her. It was funny because he wasn’t really her husband.

But he kind of was, wasn’t he?

She dropped her eyes to her plate to cover her sudden flush. He was always doing sweet things like this. He was always there when she needed someone to talk to. Though she would never tell Max or Hana, Drake had become her best friend.

He had left his job as a member of the King’s Guard to move to Valtoria with her. He had been there for her when her grandmother passed away. The last time Liam had stood her up, Drake was ready with her favorite pizza and a movie she’d been wanting to see.

What are husbands for?

It was beginning to feel less and less like a joke because it had become the truth.

How true?

She suspected Drake’s feelings for her. How could she not? She had pushed him to date others. It wasn’t fair to let him waste his life taking care of her when she was in love with another man.

Yet here he was, on Valentine’s Day, taking care of her once again.

She stole a surreptitious glance at him as they ate. Maybe he had deeper feelings for her than she initially suspected.

No, she was imagining things. He was just being a good friend. Because that is what he was. Her friend. And Liam’s.

Liam.

Guilt swirled through her at the thought of her supposed boyfriend. Annoyance followed the guilt. He had stood her up. Again. Why should she feel guilty for anything? He married another woman for the love of God.

Not because he wanted to.

The guilt was back at the reminder of the impossible situation Liam had been placed in, but it was mingled with hurt, embarrassment, and a fair amount of anger.

She knew everyone thought she was an idiot for waiting around on scraps of the king’s time and affection. For uprooting her entire life to chase after him to Cordonia in the first place, for staying even after his rejection, and for continuing to believe that she was a priority to him.

Everyone but Drake.

He never judged her.

She lifted her eyes to his face as he regaled her with tales of Max’s misadventures from when he had tagged along on Drake’s latest fishing trip with Bastien.

“… And then he tripped over the side of the boat and fell in the water!” Drake shook with laughter at the memory.

Riley forced an obligatory smile, but she had missed most of the story, her mind occupied with an entirely new idea.

Her eyes focused on his mouth hoping he didn’t notice the flush on her face as her mind refused to stray away from imagining what his lips would feel like on her neck, on her mouth…other places….

She forced her eyes down to her plate and focused on eating her dinner. The dinner that her husband in allegedly name only had taken the time to prepare with his own two hands.

When the meal was over, she tried to clear the table, but he wouldn’t let her. “No, no, I’ve got this! I’m just going to clear the table and rinse the plates real quick. Why don’t you go pick something to watch? Whatever you want.”

“You sure? You did all this work. The least I can do is let you pick the movie.”

“Nah.” He waved her offer away. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

A multitude of emotions swirled through her as she watched him walk out of the room with the dishes. If you’re happy, I’m happy. He meant that. He was always saying things like that. He was always going out of his way to do little things to make her happy.

She made her way to the media room and flipped absently through the streaming selections as a million images of Drake fell through her mind. Drake, making her laugh when she was sad. Drake, holding her when she cried. Drake, always keeping himself between her and the reporters. Drake, scrambling eggs in their kitchen at two a.m. because they’d stayed up late watching stand-up comedy specials again.

When had he become such a huge part of her life? Yes, she had married him, but that had been on paper only, so she could stay near Liam.

And yet it was Drake who had attended her grandmother’s funeral with her. It was Drake who had taken care of her when she had the flu last year. And it was always Drake who picked up the pieces after Liam shattered her heart time and time again.

Why was she keeping him at arm’s length?

He showed up in the media room with her favorite blanket, a steaming cup of hot chocolate, and a small box tucked under his arms.

She accepted the cup and the blanket while trying to peer at the box. “What’s that?”

“Oh, this?” He teased, holding it out toward her but up out of her reach.

Her eyes widened as she glimpsed the label. “Are those dark chocolate truffles?”

“Maybe…”

“Drake!” She laughed as she deposited her cup on the end table and made a grab for the promised treat.

He lifted them easily out of her reach with a teasing smile. “What? Did you want these?”

“You know I do!” She tried to pout but the smile tugging her lips upward made that difficult to maintain.

“I don’t know….” He pretended to think deeply about it. “Maybe I should keep these for myself.”

With a joyful laugh, she launched herself off the couch, her fingers touching, but not completely grasping the elusive chocolates. The impact of her body colliding into his, combined with his misstep as he tried to dodge her, sent him toppling backward onto the couch where he landed in a slightly reclined position. Her momentum carried her forward so that she landed on top of him, laying on his chest, looking up into his face.

They were both laughing as their gazes met. A sudden silence descended on them as they stared into each other’s eyes. The smiles faded as lips parted and breath caught.

She moved first, bringing her lips to his. Her kiss was tentative. His response was not.

His arms went around her, the box of truffles dropped and forgotten on the floor. He pulled her tight against him as his tongue deftly took control of her mouth. One hand tangled in her hair as the other slipped under her shirt to caress the smooth skin of her back. A plaintive whimper escaped him as he pressed his rapidly growing hardness up into her.

Riley responded, melting into his embrace, no longer tentative. She pressed herself against him as their kisses became more passionate, almost frantic.

She broke the kiss to gasp for air. “Drake…should we—"

Drake froze for a moment, and then jolted upright, gently moving her off him. “Shit, Riley!” He raked a hand through his hair as he pushed himself back away from her. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry!”

“What are you sorry for? I kissed you!”

“It was just the heat of the moment.”

“Is that all it was?” She asked him softly.

“Yeah…” He responded unconvincingly.

“Are you sure it wasn’t more than that?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know…” her fingers twisted the hem of her shirt nervously. “You made this whole romantic dinner…”

“I wanted to cheer you up. Because we’re friends and—"

“You went out of your way to get me my favorite candy.”

“No, I didn’t. I just….” He closed his eyes with a shuddering sigh before pushing through with the lie. “I was already in the store, and I saw it…”

“You’re a bad liar.”

His eyes flew open, and he fixed her a look that was almost pleading. “What do you want from me, Riley?”

“I think the question is, what do you want from me, Drake?” She scooted closer to him taking in the way he watched her warily. Like a rabbit watching a coyote approach, his face full of fear, longing, and a guarded passion.

He swallowed thickly and tried for a normal tone of voice. “The movie…”

Her hand slid up his thigh to the bulge in his pants. “A movie? Is that really what you want right now?”

“Fuck…” he breathed out in defeat as a shudder ran through his body. He grabbed her wrist to stop her but instead of pushing her away as he had intended, he found himself pulling her into him as he leaned forward, and then they were kissing again.

Lips and hands explored bodies and pulled at clothing. His heart thundered in his chest as a small part of his mind screamed at him to stop, to put the brakes on this.

That part was overruled as she pulled her top off and dropped it on the floor next to them. He stopped breathing for a moment as he drank in her naked form. He yanked his own shirt off and dove back in.

Riley arched her back as she gave herself over to the sensations cascading through her body. Drake’s hands on her bare skin were calloused, rough. The friction was a sharp contrast to the smoothness of her bare flesh. It felt good, forbidden, delicious. She shivered as goosebumps erupted along her spine.

His hot lips on her throat sent ribbons of white-hot desire shooting through her and coiling in her center.

She cried out in protest when he withdrew that touch. “Why are you stopping?”

“I…we shouldn’t…”

“Don’t you want me?”

A self-deprecating laugh slipped out of him. “I want you so fucking bad….you have no idea….. but not like this.”

“Like what?”

“You’re upset…vulnerable...”

“I was upset.” She drew his hand back to her body; he didn’t resist as she placed it so it was cupping a pert breast. “That’s not what I’m feeling right now.”

He was struggling mightily to keep his voice even as he gasped for breath. “…don’t want you to regret…”

“I won’t…”

“You’re in love with Liam…”

“I am…” She dropped her hand and pulled back a little. “We can stop if you want.”

“If I want?” His gaze searched hers, unsure exactly what he was looking for.

“Yes, you. I don’t want to stop.”

“But Liam—”

“I don’t want to think about Liam right now, Drake. I don’t want to think about tomorrow or what any of this means. But…” She moved away from him reluctantly. “I understand if you do.”

He instantly regretted the distance between them.

Before he could decide how to proceed, there was a knock at the door.

Drake’s eyes closed as frustration, relief and a smidge of anger pinged through him.

There was only one person it could be this late.

Talk about timing.

He quickly pulled his shirt back on and tossed her blouse to her. “I’ll go answer the door. You might want to fix your hair, it’s a little mussed.”

“Drake—”

“No, it’s okay,” he told her as he pulled her to him and dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head before pushing her gently away. “Go make yourself presentable. I’ll show Liam in.”

“Right.” She redressed and hurried over to the closest mirror to smooth her hair back into place.

Drake combed his fingers through his own hair on his way to the front door. Pulling it open, he greeted his best friend with, “Thought you couldn’t get away, Your Majesty?”

“Some last-minute things came up, but I finally managed to slip away.”

“It’s a little late. Valentine’s Day is pretty much over.”

Liam glanced at his watch as he stepped through the doorway. “Not really. Where is she? And why are you home? I thought you had a date.”

Drake shrugged. “She canceled on me. Sick pet or something.” He was only a little horrified at how easily the lie rolled off his tongue. “Riley’s in the media room. We were just about to watch a movie.”

Liam started down the hall. Looking over his shoulder, he asked, “Are you coming?”

“No. I’m going to turn in early. You two have fun.”

He needed a shower. A cold one.

He sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He slammed his bedroom door behind him and then leaned back against it, gently banging his head into it several times before muttering to himself, “The fuck did I just do? Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

He shed his clothes as he walked across to the room and into the ensuite. He needed relief.

The water pounded down on him as he wrapped his hand around himself. His head tipped back and his eyes fell closed as he remembered her half-naked form in front of him, the feel of her skin under his fingers, the taste of her lips…..

He groaned out loud as streams of milky whiteness pulsed out of him and splashed onto the tile. He placed both hands on the wall and leaned forward, letting the water run over the back of his head as he watched the detritus of his desire swirl down the drain.

It wasn’t the first time that his ardor for her had landed him in this position, but he knew it was different this time.

They had crossed a line tonight. A line that couldn’t be uncrossed. Even though they hadn’t done the deed, the genie was out of the bottle-- his feelings for her, their obvious sexual attraction to each other, all of it.

He just had no idea what to do about any of it.

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