#choices maxwell beaumont

[alj4890]

Can't Take My Eyes Off of You

(Maxwell Beaumont x Olivia Nevrakis) in a Choices The Royal Romance Crackship

Masterlist

Part 5

"Can I ask you something?" Riley picked up another stone to skip across the small stream.

"Sure. You can ask me anything." Maxwell tossed his.

"Have you ever been in love?" She asked.

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

Ramsford...

"Maxwell? Hey!" Riley waved her hand in front of his face.

Maxwell blinked a few times as he slowly came back to the present.

"Good to have you back." She teased. "I was worried you were going to leave me all alone with our caviar creation."

She held up a container of paprika. "I'm also pretty sure you're going to make it to where my fingerprints are the only ones found on this so Bertrand will know who to kill if these appetizers don't come out right."

He chuckled while taking the paprika from her.

"Nah. I'd never let you take the fall for one of my ideas." He began to sprinkle a little on top of each spoonful.

"What else needs to be done?" Drake asked while coming around the corner. His nose wrinkled over their choice in food. "Or am I free to go?"

"Um..." Maxwell picked up his phone and breathed a little easier. "Oh thank God. Bertrand found a caterer. All we have to do now is clean up the place."

He slipped his phone back in his pocket then helped Riley and Drake put the trays of hors d'oeuvres back into the fridge.

Once Riley left to check to see what Bertrand wanted them to focus on next, Drake spoke up.

"You seem more distracted than usual."

Maxwell paused in scrubbing the counters. "I do?"

"Yeah. You're quiet. It's almost as if you're in deep thought." Drake added.

Maxwell shrugged. "I guess I have been."

Drake eyed him over the handle of his mop. "Is something wrong?"

"You mean beyond the obvious money woes of House Beaumont?" Maxwell quipped. "Or my brother pointing out every single mistake I make? The pressure he feels and is passing onto me if Riley fails to win Liam."

"We all know Liam's going to pick Riley." Drake reminded him.

He went back to mopping the floor and muttered, "Who wouldn't choose her?"

"I hope so." Maxwell completely missed the hint that Drake might have fallen for Riley too. "Then maybe my life can begin."

Drake paused once more. "Begin? What are you--"

Maxwell tossed his scrubber in the sink. "We should um, probably go see what Bertrand wants worked on next."

He hurried out before Drake could ask him to clarify.

Maxwell spent the next few hours trying to work alone. Normally he'd be over the moon to be preparing for the annual Beaumont Bash. He had a sense of pride that their parties were the ones held to end the social season on a high note.

This year though, he wished they could skip it completely.

It wasn't just the money troubles or the fact that Bertrand was one temper tantrum away from a massive stroke, it was the competition that was getting to Maxwell. He knew Riley and Liam were soulmates and honestly, he couldn't be happier for them.

His own happily ever after though seemed less likely to occur than ever before.

Ever since his conversation with Olivia on the beach, the two had not interacted. At Applewood, he kept his distance and focused on encouraging Riley. Olivia in turn did the same with him, yet she seemed to go out of her way to talk to Riley. Surprisingly, both usually were smiling and not in the I really hate you but appearances demand I look like I adore you type smile that many at court were forced to wear.

Maxwell was dying to ask Riley what Olivia said in those moments. He summoned all his willpower to hold those questions at bay and tried instead to keep things light and optimistic for Riley's sake. Bertrand was adding so much pressure on her as it was that the last thing Maxwell should do would be to involve her in his own miserable love life.

If anyone has a real shot at being with the one they want, it's Riley and Liam, Maxwell thought. So I should do all I can to make that happen.

He released a deep, heartfelt sigh. He knew it was pointless to pretend he didn't still want to do all he could to win Olivia. He was simply, for the first time in his life, unsure how to go about it from this point.

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

The next evening...

Olivia took the lead of ladies walking into Ramsford. She glanced around noting all the typical decorations that the Beaumont's were notorious for. She knew that by the end of the night most of it would be strewn about, tangled up with the drunken people who would later try and pretend they were decent nobles.

She ignored the whispers of the ladies wondering what might happen tonight. She already knew they'd be beyond intoxicated before three in the morning. She could care less about the party or the food or whatever shenanigans the Beaumont brothers had up their sleeves.

She only wanted to see two things.

The first was to be able to observe more of Liam and Riley. She'd spent time since the beach watching them throughout the stay at Applewood. There was no denying the mutual attraction the two shared. Since Maxwell insisted that Riley was sweet, she began to go out of her way to talk to her.

As much as it galled her to admit, Maxwell was right. Riley really was sweet. Thankfully, she wasn't too sweet or Olivia would lose all respect for her. After interacting with her at Applewood, she realized that out of everyone here, she might be able to tolerate losing Liam a little easier if she lost to the American.

The second thing she wanted to see was how Liam and Maxwell acted with herself.

Her lips firmed into a thin line the moment she stepped into the ballroom. While the ladies behind her cooed over the decorations and Riley's sparkly blue gown, she focused on the one man who'd thrown her whole way of thinking out of whack.

Maxwell was beaming with delight over the praises he was hearing. As happy as he was, one would think he'd been the one to prepare the food and decorate the place.

Olivia waited until Bertrand pulled Maxwell away for a private word before approaching Riley. After a quick greeting that wasn't as smug or cold as she normally would have given, she sat down at one of the front tables.

It was the perfect vantage point to watch Liam. Her eyebrows furrowed for a second to see him in a tux that not only matched Riley's royal blue gown, but also the Beaumont colors. It was a blatant statement that Liam had not made for anyone else during the season.

It wasn't manners that made him wear it. If that was the case, then he'd have worn what she'd offered him at Lythikos. He was polite about the red jacket with black dress shirt and slacks, but told Olivia he couldn't wear it since he was supposed to be giving every suitor equal treatment.

I see that notion didn't last long.

"You noticed it too?"

Olivia looked up at Madeleine.

Madeleine's court mask slipped to reveal her obvious disdain. "I think it's in poor taste."

Olivia humphed. "I never suffered a moment of doubt that you would think of it that way."

Madeleine narrowed her eyes upon Olivia.

"This doesn't bother you?" She snapped.

"It's clothes, Madeleine." Olivia replied. "He's yet to get down on one knee and propose to Riley."

"I would have thought you'd be furious with this statement he's making. After all," Madeleine sneered, "you are madly in love with Liam."

Olivia glared at her.

"There's the reaction I was expecting." Madeleine needled. "I'm surprised you haven't challenged her to a duel."

Olivia's glare slowly turned to a smirk.

"It must be hard for you to lose out twice for the crown." She struck back. "Seeing Liam go ahead and voice his choice without saying a word probably makes you think how you'll have to return home in shame once more."

Madeleine stilled at her words.

"But you have parents who understand failure, don't you?" Olivia smiled at her. "I mean, they would have to by now, wouldn't' they?"

Before Madeleine could utter a denial, Olivia waved towards the back of the ballroom.

"Better go find your seat Maddie. One would hate to be caught gawking over the loss of another prince."

Madeleine stormed away with her head held high.

Olivia smiled to herself as she reached for her wine glass.

Tonight might not be so bad after all.

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

After dinner...

"Excuse me." Olivia glanced at Riley then turned towards Liam. "May I speak to you for a moment?"

"Of course." Liam still had a hold of Riley's hand. "It's been days since I've had a free moment to speak to, you, Lady Olivia."

Olivia watched as he leaned close to whisper to Riley. His lips brushed the delicate shell of her ear before placing a kiss right below it.

Riley's and Liam's eyes met in a heated exchange as she vaguely promised to think about it.

Olivia mentally rolled her eyes. Clearly they were planning a rendezvous. Any imbecile could see that. They needed some lessons in subterfuge if they were going to try and hide their mutual regard for one another.

It'll all be over soon. Then there will be no reason to hide anything.

She blinked over that thought. It wasn't because she thought about it, but rather the lack of emotion it evoked. It was as if her heart already accepted the fact that Liam was in love with someone else.

Her mind though, still needed proof.

Once Riley disappeared into the crowd, Liam turned expectantly back to Olivia.

The loud music, laughter, and shouts of conversations left little chance to discover if Liam truly felt nothing for her. Taking his hand, she pulled him down a hallway that led to the Beaumont's study.

Once they were behind closed doors, she perched her hip on the edge of the desk and studied her prince.

Liam lifted an eyebrow when the silence stretched between them.

Olivia searched his eyes. "You've made your choice, haven't you?"

"I..." He rubbed the back of his neck while a sheepish smile played about his lips. "I suppose there's no hiding it from you."

He gave her a decisive nod. "I have."

Olivia blinked over actually getting him to admit it.

"Riley is your choice?" She prodded.

He nodded. "I'm in love with her."

Olivia grimaced. As much as she knew this was the case, it still stung to have her dream destroyed in one conversation.

"Are you certain?" She found herself asking.

"I am." Liam grinned at her. "I can't tell you how good it feels to admit it to someone who is a close friend of mine."

"I can imagine." She mumbled.

Shaking off the sting of his declaration, Olivia asked him a question she hoped would help herself.

"How do you know that Riley is the one?"

Liam sat down on one of the leather wingback chairs. He propped his chin on his fist while staring off into the distance to think of how to answer her.

Olivia took the chair across from him and did her best to wait patiently for his answer.

"There are so many things about Riley that made me realize she is the one for me." He began. "From the moment we met, she has been all I can think about."

Olivia grimaced somewhat. If one were to go with her own mind, they would find it filled with Maxwell. It was irritating how often he took over her thoughts.

Liam's pensive expression softened as he continued to explain. "When we kissed, I felt an instant passion. Not just desire, but a need for it to never end, as if," he hesitated in trying to describe it to her, "as if my body only recognized her touch."

Olivia blinked over that. She recalled both kissing Liam and Maxwell the night of her ball. Of the two, Maxwell's had ignited a passionate response in her.

But is his touch the only one my body will recognize?

"The few precious moments I've had with her and getting to know the type of person she is, the more I want to be around her." He turned his attention back to Olivia. "I fell in love with her during those moments. Riley is everything my heart yearns for."

Olivia gave a brisk nod. "I see."

Liam reached over and took her hand. "I know that many believed you would be my choice. Most of my advisors insist upon you being my choice."

She stilled, not entirely sure she wanted to hear what else he had to say.

"If I had never met, Riley," he lowered his eyes to their hands, "I would have chosen you. You are one of my oldest friends. I trust you, admire your strength and loyalty, and believe you would make an amazing queen."

He lifted his eyes back to hers. "Now that I've experienced what love does to a person, how could I choose anyone other than Riley?"

Olivia squeezed his hand. "Of all the people I know, you're one of the very few I actually care about."

Taking a deep breath, she attempted to smile at him.

"And since I care, I actually want to see you happy. If Riley is what you want, then she is the one I hope you get in the end."

Liam's smile lit up his entire face. He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles.

"I care about you too." He searched her eyes. "I hope I haven't hurt you."

Olivia shrugged her shoulders. "I've known for some time that you felt something for Riley. Anyone with half a brain can see it."

He chuckled. "True. I've never been good at hiding my feelings." He kept hold of her hand. "But, I would never intentionally hurt you."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, Liam."

"I know." He gently let her hand go. "I wish that you could find someone worthy of you."

She hesitated. "I think there might be someone."

His eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"Maybe." She clarified. "I think I need to do a few more," she searched for the right word, "experiments to know for certain."

"Experiments?" He began to laugh.

Olivia glared at him. "Not all of us are so certain when it comes to love."

Liam held his hands up in surrender. "I meant no offense."

She eyed him to see if he was making fun of her or not.

He bit back a smile. "I simply never thought of discovering love as an experiment. I suppose it is when one thinks about it."

"How so?" She asked.

"There's definitely a chemical reaction." Liam teased. "Being touched by the one, hearing their voice, or simply seeing them across a room sets off endorphins. Everything in your body, your mood, your very way of seeing things in the world is altered by their presence."

He smiled warmly at her.

"I say perform all the experiments you need to know if you have found the one."

Olivia relaxed back in her chair. Seeing now that she wasn't being foolish in her path forward helped in her knowing what steps she should next take.

"I shall." She declared.

Liam rose to his feet and began to walk towards the door.

"Liam?"

"Yes?" He turned back towards her.

"Thank you."

He bowed to her.

"Anytime, your grace."

With another smile, he left her alone.

Olivia's pleasant expression changed to one of frustrated resignation. She supposed she'd hoped there was still a chance with Liam because he'd been the one her mind had accepted so long ago. Now, she could see that there really was no use in thinking like that any longer. Even if Riley were to refuse Liam's proposal, she knew she could never be with him.

Liam wasn't the kind of man to stop loving someone just because they refused to return his affection. Olivia knew her own pride and heart couldn't take being with someone who didn't care for her in the same manner. A Nevrakis either gave everything or nothing and expected the same in return. There was no in between.

"I can't believe it's come down to this." She grumbled to herself.

Of all the men she knew, there was only one who had given everything. To find out if she could do the same, she needed to test the waters a bit more.

"How in the world am I to get Maxwell alone at a party?"

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

Many, many hours later...

Maxwell hummed to himself as he left Hana's room. Ending the wild party with a game of truth or dare with his friends was the perfect way to end a crazy night. Plus, it'd helped him at least for a little while, not think of Olivia.

How much more fun would it have been to see Olivia do a dare or admit a truth?

He knew what he would have dared her and he knew what question he'd ask. What would have happened might have left him even sadder than before.

Can't have that, he argued with himself. Who wants a depressed Maxwell hanging around?

He unlocked the door to his room, pausing halfway inside. He glanced down the hallway where he knew Olivia was. He'd been the one to clean and prepare her room. He wondered if she even noticed he'd made certain to have a bouquet of red roses in there. Did she notice the red throw he'd left draped over the Beaumont blue chair? Did she even recognize the meaning behind doing something like that?

"Probably not." He mumbled, closing his door behind him.

Maxwell had left his desk lamp on before the party began. The rest of his suite was shrouded in shadow, giving a quiet almost serene feeling after hours of absolute drunken chaos. It was just what he needed to bring him back down off his adrenaline rush.

He began to undress. Kicking his shoes off, he next dropped his pants. Stepping out of them, he stumbled over to his dresser while pulling his shirt off.

He dug around in the dark for a soft T-shirt to sleep in. After finally pulling one on, he stilled to hear a knock on his door.

When it happened a second time, he rushed over to it in the hopes of seeing Olivia. He'd lost sight of her during the beginning of the Beaumont Bash. He'd hoped to find a way to talk to her. Maybe see how things were going and if she'd finally given up on Liam.

His smile disappeared the moment he saw his brother.

Bertrand swayed, nearly toppling over.

"My dear Maxwell," he slurred, "could you be so kind as to point me in the direct- *hic* -shun of my quarters?"

He glanced down, his eyebrows nearly disappearing in his hairline.

"Good god, man! You lost your pants!"

Maxwell tugged his shirt down in an effort to hide his boxers.

"Did an acrobat steal them?" Bertrand laid a commiserating hand on Maxwell's shoulder. "I believe one stole my vest."

"You're wearing it on your head." Maxwell told him.

Bertrand reached up and pulled it off, causing his hair to stand on end. "The blackguard returned it!"

"Uh huh." Maxwell turned his brother around. "Straight down there is your bedroom. Only door at the end of the hall."

"Right." Bertrand stumbled in that direction. "Thank you."

"Anytime." Maxwell watched to make certain he didn't accidentally go into anyone else's room.

His breath caught in his throat the moment Bertrand bumped into Olivia's door.

Nothing happened, leaving him slumping his shoulders and returning to his own room.

Maxwell finished up his nighttime rituals in his ensuite bathroom then finally collapsed on his bed.

"What a night." He mumbled into his pillow.

"Yes, it was."

His eyes flew open. In his haste to reach his lamp on his nightstand, he knocked a glass of water off. Cursing, he blinked against the brightness.

There beside him on the bed was the only woman he'd dreamt of one too many times in that exact spot.

Olivia calmly sat there, hands folded in her lap. She'd puffed up some of his bed pillows to put at her back as she reclined in an almost upright position.

"You're here?" He asked, unable to wrap his mind around the concept.

"So you see." She replied.

"In my room?" He continued. "You're here in my room? On my bed?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "No. I'm on Bertrand's bed. Of course I'm on yours!"

Maxwell's eyes widened. His lips parted to ask more questions yet nothing but a squeak slipped out.

Olivia leaned closer to him, her brow furrowed in irritated concern. "Are you going to be sick?"

"No." He rubbed his eyes. "I'm pretty sure this is a dream."

She rolled her eyes once more. "It's not."

"That's what you usually say during my dreams." He argued.

Olivia reached over and pinched him. "Now do you believe me?"

Maxwell shook his head. "You do that in my dreams too."

Olivia had used up all her patience in waiting on getting Maxwell alone. Now that she finally had him without any chance of someone seeing them together, she was in no mood to reassure him that this was real. Besides, it was her feelings she needed to test.

With a frustrated breath, she straddled him.

Maxwell's eyes widened even more. Unsure what to do with his hands, he fisted them in the sheets. His heart was beating so hard that he wasn't certain if he'd survive this dream.

Audibly swallowing, he waited to see what she would do next.

She leaned down. The tip of her nose touched his. Her eyes held his startled gaze. A slight smirk curved her lips when she heard his sharp intake of breath.

"Maxwell?"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

#choices trr #maxwell x olivia #trr maxwell #trr olivia #choices maxwell beaumont #choices olivia nevrakis #choices the royal romance #choices stories you play #choices fic writers creations #trr #choices crackship

[harleybeaumont]

Thirsty pics of my FC for Maxwell - Xavier Serrano!

I was going to make a moodboard but I just can't crop these puppies!

@maxwell-beaumont-appreciation

#maxwell beaumont appreciation week #maxwell beaumont #xavier serrano #trr maxwell #choices maxwell beaumont

[maxwell-beaumont-appreciation]

Day 7 - Visuals!

We've reached the final day of Maxwell Beaumont Appreciation Week! Show us your Max face claims!

#mbaw #maxwell beaumont appreciation week #trr maxwell #maxwell beaumont appreciation #choices maxwell beaumont #maxwell beaumont #day 7

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 1 MATCH 51

Yuuma propaganda:

“he can be yuor everything <3

im not even kidding like he has taken on so many different roles he can be your dream man (horse?) whatever your type is

he has

-won a race for you

-gone skiing with you

-gone to the beach with you (he can surf)

-offered you his scarf when it was cold

-rescued you from trouble (multiple occasions)

-fought his rival for you (another horse with a handsome human face)

-fed you asparagus (homemade)

-gotten a job in construction

-become a rockstar (dedicated a song to you and let you live your wattpad fanfic life)

all this i listed off the top of my head. theres probably more he has done but i just cant remember

hes very talented and treats you right ✓ experience rapturous love today”

Maxwell propaganda:

“First of all he’s a silly goofy guy AND he’s extremely loyal and will always have your back. Within hours of meeting you, he decides his family will sponsor you in the competition to become the crown prince’s bride. He falls in love with you along the way, never expecting you’d choose him, the younger brother of a bankrupted duke, over the prince himself. Maxwell supports you through scandals and assassination attempts, eventually facing down his own father Barthelemy to protect you and your child from the former duke’s scheming. All this on top of the years he spent providing for his brother’s ex and her secret son, keeping them both safe and out of harm’s way simply because he cared. He’s always thinking of his friends, making them laugh and eagerly joining their crazy plans without ever expecting anything in return. His smile hides a sensitive side, a man who lost his mother at a young age and overcame body-image issues, yet still holds insecurities about his value to others. Maxwell is a sweetheart who always tries to do the right thing, and I still think about him years after playing The Royal Romance series.

Okay so it's a mobile gacha game, let's get that out of the way. BUT LISTEN. 

The premise of the story is that the MC is a regular waitress in New York, when a foreign prince and his friends come to her table as a way to have a bachelor party for the prince who will soon have to choose a woman to marry in a The Bachelor -type of contest. MC and the prince hit it off pretty well and one of his friends, Maxwell, decides to throw in his lot with the MC, since the house the future queen is from gets a lot of perks and his family is Broke. MC goes along bc her job sucks ass and she figures why not.

BUT THEN! As the competition progresses, the MC spends a lot of time with the prince and other nobles, yes, but also with Maxwell. And Maxwell is a clown-type comic relief character for most of the time, but also genuinely sweet and considerate, and very much on the same wavelength with the equal goofball MC. What for me personally changed the game was when MC and Maxwell dance at a ball together, and the MC can say that there's no one they'd rather dance with than Maxwell. I myself chose that in a completely platonic bestie way. But he gets a bit panicky and says to be careful not to let anyone hear things like that when MC is in the running for the hand of the prince so that no one gets any wrong ideas! And I went "....ideas? 👀"

“Unlike other romancable characters, Maxwell isn't romancable until book 2 (the previous scene is in book 1, each book ~20 chapters), and unlike other romance options, you really have to have your eyes set on him in order to unlock his route, and ohhh it's so worth it! The set-up of falling for the person who brought you there to marry someone else, to choose the jester when you were meant to have the king.... exquisite. 

The dynamic between MC and Maxwell is so fun and full of genuine affection, and while other characters can dismiss Maxwell as an unserious clown, MC is very much characterised by the dialogue as Getting him and loving to express joy in life the same way he does. When MC and Maxwell can finally marry, it feels like they're really choosing their best friend to spend their lives with and are so excited about it.

I know this wrestles in a league multiple times smaller than many of the other combatants, but the Maxwell romance in genuinely one of my favourites in any video game. Give him a chance!”

#Yuuma #My Horse Prince #Maxwell Beaumont #Playchoices #The Royal Romance #choices the royal romance #Round 1 #MDDC 2

[karahalloway]

(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

Permatags

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

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

@thetruthisthatiloveyou @anakjaybon-blog

#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

[zoeywades-spouse]

I love how if MC tells Liam that they cannot marry him because they’re in love with someone else he’s surprised but if it’s Hana or Drake he’s like makes sense, they’re both wonderful people who deserve happiness and I hope you find it with them.

However, if it’s Maxwell Liam literally just stares at MC in shock, completely bamboozled, blown away. Because out of all the beautiful and available nobles and people in the court MC literally fell for the most ridiculous person there

#Liam really was just like are you shitting me? #MAXEWELL?? #choices #playchoices #choices stories you play #the royal romance #the royal romance 2 #trr #trr 2 #king Liam #maxwell beaumont

[storyofmychoices]

Shadows and Deceptions: A Royal Murder Mystery (Masterlist)

In the heart of Cordonia's grand ballroom, an eclectic cast of characters gathers, their lives interwoven as a result of a shocking turn of events. Trystan Thorne, the exiled prince with a taste for mystery, Olivia Nevrakis, the snarky Duchess skilled with daggers, Tyril Starfury, the noble elf Lord a defender of the realm, Amalas, the enigmatic spy queen, and Prince Hamid, the charming and formal imperial prince. Amidst the grand party of the birth of King Liam's third heir, Princess Ariana, the joyous celebration is broken by a piercing scream, a dead body, and a room full of royal suspects.

Each section begins with a quote that provides some insight into the story. Most are by famous fictional detectives. Each post includes two sections (ie: I & II, III & IV, etc)

I. Every man at the bottom of his heart believes that he is a born detective. (John Buchan)

II. Have patience and endure; this unhappiness will one day be beneficial. (Ellery Queen)

III. From now on, it is our task to suspect each and every one amongst us. (Justice Wargrave)

IV. Truth arises from the seemingly irrelevant. (C. Auguste Dupin)

V. --- In the Ballroom with the Dagger? (Clue inspired)

VI. Put two and two together... sometimes the answer's four... and sometimes it's twenty-two. (Nick Charles)

VII. When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. (Sherlock Holmes)

VIII. It is not the past that matters, but the future. (Poirot)

Series Information:

Books: The Royal Romance Series, Crimes of Passion, Desire & Decorum, Blades of Light and Shadow

Characters: Trystan Thorne (M, race not mentioned), Marguerite Thorne, Olivia Nevrakis, Queen Amalas, Maxwell Beaumont, Daniel, King Liam, Tyril Starfury, Nia Ellarious, Prince Hamid

Pairings: Olivia Nevrakis x Queen Amalas ; M!Trystan Thorne x (no gender given) MC (mentioned) ; King Liam x Riley (mentioned)

Total Word Count: 6,600

Rating/Warnings: Teen, mentions of blood, stab wound, knives/daggers (no graphic descriptions)

Series Video Edit

The loveliest and talented @secretaryunpaid created little mini videos/gifs for each section and edited them together into what would be an amazing commercial for this series. Check it out:

#playchoices #choices game #the royal romance #blades of light and shadow #crimes of passion #desire & decorum #choices fan fiction #tyril starfury #trystan thorne #marguerite thorne #nia ellarious #maxwell beaumont #olivia nevrakis #queen amalas #prince hamid #lovealexhunt #choices book club

[cordonianroyalairlines]

All I Want for Christmas Part 1

Series: Cordonian Royal Airlines

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Various

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Drake, Liam x Max

Word Count: 2,475

Rating: General

Warnings for this chapter: None

A/N: Listen. I had an idea for the @choicesprompts #rewritechallenge holiday edition. I had the whole scene in my head, but then I decided it needed a little lead-up. Then I decided the lead-up needed a lead-up and then these characters completely just took over, threw my script out the window, and took a whole detour to examine a little budding romance between Liam and Max when this story was supposed to be focused on Drake and Riley (and it still is, mostly).

Long story short, it got a little out of hand so I have split it into two chapters. I'm tagging all of the following:

@choicesprompts rewrite challenge, holiday edition TRR x Untamed Heart (one of my all-time favorite movies). @choicesficwriterscreations holiday prompt: Stuck together in the snow; @choicesdecember2023 Christmas and @choicesholidays: This is the worst Christmas ever.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Lassiter, have a pleasant stay!” Riley waved with a smile painted on her face as the last passenger debarked. The smile faded from her face as the guests disappeared down the jet bridge and her eyes took in the heavy snowfall blanketing the runway.

Max noticed her despondent expression. “You okay, Ri?”

She turned toward her best friend and coworker with a sigh. “Remind me again why I volunteered to work this flight?”

“Uh…because your sister is getting married in less than two months, and you needed the overtime to pay for the ridiculous over-the-top bachelorette party she wants.”

“Right. Amelia,” Riley nodded to herself, “I’m doing this for her.”

“I think you do too much for her, Ri,” Max clucked at her like a mother hen, “She takes advantage of your generous nature.”

“Oh, Max, it’s fine. You only get married once!”

He arched an eyebrow at her.

“Okay,” a giggle burst out of her, “Hopefully, she only gets married once!”

“Frankly, I’m surprised she found anyone willing to marry her. Is there something wrong with him?”

“Max!” Riley laughed as she thumped him playfully on the shoulder before turning serious. “I just hope we’re able to take off tomorrow as planned.” Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and she had promised her mother she’d be home so she could spend Christmas day with her parents and siblings.

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

Riley turned toward the voice to find the pilot striding toward them. Captain Liam Rys stopped in front of the flight attendants to announce, “There’s a blizzard headed straight for us.”

“Maybe we could just fly out right now—” Riley started hopefully.

“That’s a negative,” Liam cut her off, “that would put me over my flight limit for the day. We’ll proceed to the hotel as planned and hope for the best but be prepared to spend Christmas here.”

“Remind me why you agreed to fly into Estonia, the blizzard capital of the world, two days before Christmas?” Max grumbled.

Liam’s eyes flicked to him in annoyance. “Because of the obscene amount of money Mr. Lassiter was willing to pay for me to do so. You’ll thank me when you get your next paycheck and there’s a substantial bonus on it, on top of the holiday bonus you just received.”

“It’s okay,” Max shrugged with a tinge of disappointment in his tone, “My brother is in Japan anyway.”

Liam’s expression softened a little. “I’m sure he wishes he could spend Christmas with you.”

“Well, he’s flying with Leo, which he loves. I’m just disappointed that we’re almost never assigned to the same flight.”

Liam averted his eyes, unwilling to tell Max that was on purpose. Bertrand had requested that Max not be on the same flight as himself after the younger Beaumont’s enthusiasm became embarrassing for him. Max had gushed to a passenger about his pride in his older sibling, proudly articulating that, “My brother’s the co-pilot. He’s really good at it. He’s almost good enough to be the pilot!”

Liam shuffled his feet awkwardly, then nodded at Max, “Yes, well…. See you at the hotel.”

“You will?” Max’s head whipped around in surprise. Liam had never expressed an interest in seeing him outside of work before.

“Well, he was a little snippy,” Riley observed as Liam disappeared down the sky bridge.

“But did he seem….I don’t know…interested in-“ a flush crawled up his neck and then flared across his face, “Never mind. Of course not.”

Riley’s brow furrowed. “Interested in what?”

“Nothing. Let’s just get this cabin cleaned up so we can go.”

***

Riley awoke the next morning to sheets of snow pouring from the sky, blanketing the city in white as far as she could see from her hotel window. Which wasn’t that far. The snow was coming down too fast and too thick for her to see past the parking lot.

“Shit!” She aggressively pulled the curtains closed and dove back under the covers.

***

“So, what have you two been up to all day?” Liam asked as the four-member flight crew sat down for dinner in the hotel restaurant.

“Well, I slept in, then I called my mom to let her know I wouldn’t be making it home today and probably not tomorrow either. Then I drown my sorrows in a steaming hot bubble bath.” Riley responded as she pulled the menu over to her.

“Yeah, but then we saw a movie,” Max reminded her. Turning to Liam, he rambled excitedly, “This hotel has a theater in it. There was popcorn and everything! And then we took a cooking class! Can you believe that? The hotel chef hosts a class here once a week, but they did an extra class today because it snowed everyone in.”

Liam smiled at Max’s enthusiasm. “That sounds like fun. Now I feel boring. I read all day. Drake, what about you?”

“What about me?” Drake was busy shoveling a complimentary roll into his mouth.

Riley laughed. “Have you not been listening to the conversation? He wants to know what you did to keep busy today, you dork.”

Drake grabbed his water glass and chugged the cold liquid down to cover the fact that he had not heard a word of the conversation since Riley stopped talking. He was still picturing her in that bubble bath. When he sat the glass down, he responded, “I did my usual morning workout. The gym here is excellent. Since I couldn’t go for a run, I hit the heavy bags and then swam a few laps.”

“How many is a few?” Max asked.

“Twenty.” Drake’s eyes flicked to Max as he answered before landing quickly back on Riley’s face searching for any clue that she was impressed, or at least interested in him.

Not that he cared. She was a coworker, and he didn’t date coworkers.

“All before lunch?” She raised an eyebrow.

He wasn’t sure if she found his morning activities impressive or stupid. Her expression gave away nothing. “I find it hard to sit still,” he answered.

Liam scoffed, “You sit in the cockpit for hours at a time.”

“First of all, that’s different. I’m doing plenty as you well know and second of all, that’s why I need more physical movement when I’m on the ground.”

“Makes sense to me!” Max nodded emphatically as the waitress arrived with the menus.

They ordered their food and ate while making companionable chit chat. After dinner, Max suggested they continue the night across the lobby.

The hotel bar was crowded. The four coworkers quickly parted in the crowd. Drake and Liam navigated to a small table in the back and ordered drinks.

“You don’t want to ask her to dance?” Liam nodded across the room to the dance floor where Max and Riley were laughing and twirling to the music.

Drake followed Liam’s eyes and froze as he watched her sway and shimmy to the thump of heavy base. “I don’t dance.”

“I’ve seen you dance.”

“Not well.”

“So, you’re worried about embarrassing yourself in front of her?”

“What? No!” Drake reached for the tumbler of single malt scotch as the server placed it on the table in front of him and took a long pull as his mind spun with ways to shift the conversation away from his nonexistent love life. “What’s going on with you and Max?”

Liam startled so hard that bourbon sloshed over the rim of his glass. He stared at Drake in a blind panic. “What do you mean?”

“I mean….you usually pay no attention to what the flight attendants are doing when we have layovers. Yet you invited everyone to dinner tonight and you’re the one that was watching them dance. I’m pretty sure you’re not into Riley because if you were, you wouldn’t be pushing me toward her. So that leaves Max. Tell me I’m wrong.”

He lowered his glass to the table with a sigh. “It’s that obvious?”

“To me, but I’ve known you for a long time, Li.”

Liam blew out a long breath. “Shit.”

“Why don’t you just tell him you’re interested?”

“No,” Liam shook his head vigorously, “I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“So many reasons! Starting with the fact that I’m his boss and that’s a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen.”

“Not if he likes you back,” Drake countered.

“That’s not likely.”

Again, Drake asked, “Why not?”

Liam scoffed as he gestured toward the dance floor. “I mean, look at him! He’s fun and popular and hilariously funny. And look at those dance moves! He’s interesting and cool. What could he possibly see in me?”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, man.”

“I’m a stick in the mud and you know it. I was the president of my debate team. He was the lead in his school’s production of Beetle Juice.”

“How do you know- “

“Bertrand told me.”

“So, you’ve been pumping his brother for information?”

“Not the point. He’s amazing and fun and talented and I’m….me.”

“Liam, come on, man, you-“

“When I was twelve, I read law books for fun.”

“Geez, okay. Never mind. You’re definitely going to die alone.”

“Shut up,” Liam laughed, “I know you think I’m being dramatic.“

“You fly planes for a living,” Drake reminded him. “In my experience, a lot of people find that sexy.”

“Yes, well, I know your experience is quite extensive in that area but-“

“Are you calling me a man whore?”

“If the shoe fits….” Liam muttered into his drink.

“Insult me all you want, but it isn’t going to change the fact that you’ve got it bad. You should just tell him.”

“Oh, okay, Mr. I don’t like Riley.”

Fuck. Drake took another long drink. The conversation had come full circle. His eyes drifted across the room to find her again. She was still with Max.

***

Riley led Max off the dance floor and to a table as she flagged down a server for some water. “What’s up with you tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve been acting squirely all night and you keep looking around like you’re searching for somebody. What’s that about?”

Max flushed, “Ah….I think I might have a thing for Liam.”

“Wait…what?” Riley shrieked, then clapped her hands over her mouth.

“I don’t know….” Max dropped his eyes to the table. “I mean, you know, he’s hot or whatever.”

“Max!” She slapped his shoulder. “Since when? And why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged. “Just recently I’ve started to notice him more, that’s all. He’s always being nice to me and- “

“He’s nice to everyone.”

“I know, but it’s more than that! I can’t explain it, okay? It’s just…the way he looks at me sometimes….”

“I have never seen you act shy before! You hit on that model last week!”

“Oh, him? Yeah, but that was just--”

“That man is an international star, and you had zero qualms asking for his snap.”

“I know, but- “

“And he gave it to you!”

“Sure, but Liam isn’t just a pretty face, Riley! He’s so fucking smart and serious. He’s sophisticated, and there’s just no way he’d be into a goofball like me.”

“Ah, Maxey, anyone with half a brain would be into you.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend.”

“Yes. But also because it’s true.”

“No, it’s not. I’m the general fuckup in my family. Just ask Bertrand. Or my father.”

“Max, you’re not a fuckup!” Riley admonished. “You’re just different from your brother and father, thank God! I’m sorry, I know you love him, but Bertrand is the most boring man alive, and your father is a dick, so please don’t judge yourself by his opinion of you.”

“Bert’s not boring. He just had to grow up fast. My father put a lot of pressure on him and he, unlike me, rose to the challenge. I mean, look at us. He’s a pilot and I’m a flight attendant. Do you remember what my father said when I told him I wanted to be a flight attendant?”

“Yes, but on the bright side, it was the first time he acknowledged your sexual orientation.”

Max snorted, “That’s not funny, Riley.”

“You laughed.”

He bumped her shoulder with his own with an amused shake of his head, “If your point is that my father is a homophobic, controlling, abusive asshole whose opinion should mean nothing to me or anyone else with a lick of self-respect, then point taken.” He lifted his glass to her.

She lifted hers and tapped it into his with a grin. “My work here is done. Now go over there and ask him to shoot darts or something.”

***

“All right, well, this has been fun, but I’m going up to bed now.” Liam pushed away from the table and stood up, stretching as he did so.

“You really are a stick in the mud,” Drake laughed as the server cleared their table and asked if he could get them anything else. “Yeah, an unopened bottle of what we’ve been drinking tonight.”

Liam turned to go but froze as a voice that sent heat shocking through him spoke, “Hey…Liam….you wanna…go play darts or something?”

He turned to find Max smiling at him. Trying to push down the rising panic in his throat, his eyes flicked to Drake, who just gave him an amused smile, then back to Max, who looked uncharacteristically nervous. “Uh…. sure.”

“Great!” Relief washed across Max’s features. Then he remembered himself and begrudgingly turned to include Drake in the invitation. “Would you like to join us?”

“Nah, I’m good. You two go ahead. I’ve got a bottle of top-shelf whiskey, and this hotel has steak on their room service menu. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay then, goodnight and Merry Christmas,” Liam didn’t meet Drake’s eyes as he waved bye and then followed Max to the dart boards lined up against the far wall.

Drake chuckled to himself as he took the bottle from the server and thrust a handful of bills at him. He started for the door, then thought better of it and backtracked to the bar, reaching across and grabbing a clean tumbler to take to his room with him.

He had to dodge a bunch of drunk people on his way back, causing him to veer off course until he was damn near on the other side of the room.

It wasn’t so much that he saw her as he felt her presence. His head lifted and his eyes somehow went straight to her despite the dozen or so people between him and the table she was seated at. Without making a conscious decision, his body angled in her direction, and he made his way over to her, reminding himself the whole way that he didn’t get involved with coworkers.

#cordonianroyalairlines #trr au #the royal romance #drake x mc #drake walker #liam rys #maxwell beaumont #liam x max #christmas 2023 #drake x riley #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

[bombomangooo]

Lord Maxwell Beaumont, the loveable screwup!!

#choices #pixelberry #choices fanart #maxwell beaumont #the royal romance #fanart #my first post on this account … and it’s choices fanart #I can’t wait to draw more stuff #I’m multi fandom btw you’re gonna see choices stuff one day and Sally face stuff the next #finally finished #bombomangoo #digital art

[aria-ashryver]

Big fan of

"MC who loves and celebrates Maxwell exactly as he is, doesn't try to change him, matches his energy"

and its glorious sequel

"Maxwell is so comfortable being himself around her and starts to foster a sense of self-confidence and self-worth beyond being just The Funny Guy Who is Good For a Laugh but No One Takes Seriously"

#choices trr #the royal romance #maxwell beaumont

[angelasscribbles]

Behind Closed Doors Chapter 1: The Invitation

 Series: Behind Closed Doors

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for this chapter: Riley x Max, Liam x Max (he hopes)

Word Count: 916

Rating: R for mature themes

Warnings for this chapter: sex is alluded to

A/N: I teased this one a long while back. Finally had some inspiration for it, so here's the first chapter!

A/N2: This story explores a bit of relationship anarchy. Here's a link if you want to learn more.

Series Premise: Six people come together in a kaleidoscope of shifting boundaries.

My other stuff: Master List.

Riley’s eyes widened as her mouth fell open. “Wait…you want me to go to the palace with you?”

“Yeah,” Max nodded, “I need a wingman, Riley, and you’re really good at it!”

“But—”

Max took in her hesitation and a startling thought occurred to him. “Oh! Is this awkward because we…because of…”

“Oh, good god, no!” Riley threw her head back and laughed. It was a full-throated belly laugh. Her hand landed on his bicep as she leaned forward to catch her breath. “I love you, Max. Truly, deeply, madly, but as friends! You know that!”

“I know.” His fingers scratched at the freshly shorn hairline along the back of his neck as a flush raced across his face. “I just wanted to be sure…after what happened last month…”

Riley stepped closer and traced a finger across his lips. “I don’t regret it if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He shivered as her touch sent a sliver of desire sparking through him and, without much conscious thought, his arm shot out to pull her in even closer. “Does that mean we can do it again sometime?”

She laughed again as she gazed up into the cobalt-blue eyes that were as familiar to her as her own emerald-green orbs. Max had been her best friend since they met in a ridiculously overpriced private kindergarten.

Neville Van Couer, big for his age and just as disagreeable then as he was now, had yanked Max’s stuffed octopus from his arms and was holding it above his head, taunting him with it.

“Please give back Sir Inks a Lot.” Max’s trembling voice betrayed his fierce determination not to cry. “My mom gave him to me.”

“Oh, are you going to cry, little crybaby? It’s just a stupid toy. I tell you what—”

“Give it back.” A firm, uncompromising voice cut in.

Neville spun to find the interloper. His malicious grin widened when his eyes fell on the slight girl with the wispy brown hair. “And what are you going to do about it if I don’t?”

Without warning or preamble, the girl moved. She darted forward so quickly that Neville had no time to process what was happening. A sharp blow to his stomach sent him pitching forward, grabbing his midsection as the toy was ripped from his grasp.

“Here.” The girl thrust the plushie out to Max.

He wiped the moisture from his tear-streaked cheeks with one hand as he reached out for his beloved Sir Inks a Lot with the other. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She gave him a bright smile that washed all of his sadness away. “My name’s Riley. Want to play with me?”

“We can do it anytime you want.” She assured him. “It’s not like we’re not good at.”

Max smiled at the reference to their romantic and sexual past.

They had lost their virginity to each other in high school and spent six months exploring everything the other had to offer. Then Max had confessed to being bisexual and wanting to explore with other people. Primarily men. His relief when Riley had agreed to break up romantically but remain friends had been overwhelming. She was and remained the closest friend he had.

A month ago, they had gotten drunk and fallen into bed together. It had felt good, comfortable, and familiar. He loved her.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t in love with Liam and that’s why he needed her support at the upcoming Beltane Ball that the palace held every year.

His arms tightened around her. “So to be clear, you know I love you and you’re okay helping me try to get Liam’s attention?”

Her grin widened until her cheeks hurt. “Boy, yes. Did we or did we not discover relationship anarchy at the same time?”

Giddiness crashed through his chest. The idea that you could love people but still remain autonomous was brilliant enough. Add in the deconstruction of things like relationship hierarchy and mono-normativity and, well, it had been paradigm-shifting.

“Okay,” he nodded as relief washed over him. “I would never do anything to hurt you, Riley!”

“I know.” She leaned up and kissed him softly on the lips.

He melted against her for a moment, then drew back. Because he had to know for sure everything was okay between them. “Then why the hesitancy when I asked you to go to the ball with me?”

“Because I’ve never been to the palace, silly!” Her family was insanely wealthy, but not noble.

“Oh, yeah!” Max tended to forget the difference in their social status. Mainly because it didn’t matter to him. People were people and titles like Duke and Count meant nothing when it came to what kind of person someone was. After all, Neville was noble.

“Oh, yeah! I mean…what do I even wear? Do I need to know how to curtsy? What if—”

Max cut her off by jerking her back into his embrace. “Don’t worry, padawan. We have two weeks. I’ll teach you everything you need to know!”    

“Great!” Riley bounced on her toes, excitement swirling through her midsection.

The palace! What an exciting adventure!

She threw her arms around him. “We could make a week of it! Go into the city. Shopping, dining, museums, the theater….”

He dipped his head toward her, his lips bare inches from hers. “Can we share a room?”

“Oh, we’re going to share a lot more than a room!” she assured him just before their lips crashed together.

#behind closed doors #trr au #trr fanfic #liam rys #drake walker #hana lee #trr poly #trr #angelasscribbles #the royal romance #choices stories you play #cfwc fics of the week #choices fic writers creations #the royal romance fanfic #choices #maxwell beaumont #riley brooks #leo rys #choices trr #choices the royal romance

[alj4890]

Can't Take My Eyes Off of You

(Maxwell Beaumont x Olivia Nevrakis) in a Choices The Royal Romance Crackship AU

Masterlist

A/N This chapter focuses mostly on Olivia's thoughts and actions just as the prologue focused on Maxwell's. The following chapters will show both sides as they begin to see each other more and more during the social season. On a side note, you have no idea how delighted I was to replay Book 1 the other night and notice the colors Maxwell wore to the Masquerade Ball. It was meant to be 😉

Song Inspiration for Olivia: Cold as Ice by Ava Max

Chapter 1

Olivia's chambers, The Royal Palace, Night of the Masquerade Ball...

Olivia eyed her dark gray and silver gown critically. Even though Liam had seen her more times than anyone else in Cordonia, she still wanted to appear at her best for the new crown prince. After all, this was her moment to finally make him consider a future with her.

Who knew when Leo abdicated that this could be the beginning of a dream she'd held onto since she was a little girl?

There was no one like Liam. He was everything good, loyal, and true in her world. His patience and unending kindness was something she herself struggled with, yet admired all the more in him. Since he had the heart, she knew she could be just what his life was missing: strength.

Her very genetic makeup was overflowing with the attribute. It also was filled to the brim with a cold, calculated ruthlessness that few women of the Royal Court possessed. Since Liam's compassion might possibly make him a target, she knew she was the perfect person to protect that rare gift from the ones who would take advantage of it.

She finished brushing her hair, placed a diamond clip to hold her rich red curls in a cascade over her shoulder, and then reached for her locked travel case that held her jewelry she saved for balls and formal dinners.

Her eyes fell upon a rather worn set of papers that were slightly singed in places that she hadn't seen in a few years.

Without wondering why she was doing so, she lifted them out.

Maxwell's poem had caught her eleven year old self completely off guard. After all, she had eyes for no one but the younger prince. Maxwell might have been a good friend and fun playmate growing up, but to actually have him as a significant other...that was...well...

It was something she could never allow herself to contemplate, much less even give a chance. It was a forbidden, almost taboo subject that her aunt spent one of her rare visits harping upon.

She could recall her Aunt Lucretia's reaction to finding the poem a few days after she received it as if the irritating woman was recreating the scene in her room right now.

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

"What is this, Libby?" Lucretia demanded.

"It's nothing!" Olivia felt both embarrassed to be caught with something like that and furious that her aunt had gone through her personal keepsakes. "Maxwell gave it to me."

"Beaumont? The Spare of Ramsford?" Lucretia's eyes narrowed. "Are you encouraging his," she spat out the next word, "love?"

"No!" Olivia snapped. "We're just friends! I don't know why he wrote that!"

"A Nevrakis doesn't have friends. She has allies, ones who give more than they receive." She crumbled up the papers that Maxwell had poured his heart into.

Before Olivia could stop her, Lucretia threw the wad of sentimental drivel into the great room's fireplace at Lythikos.

"You are meant for far greater things than some spare to a dukedom. Your parents intended you to sit and rule over people, not lower yourself for some lesser noble. You might as well dirty yourself with that commoner Constantine allows to live in the palace with his sons. That's closer to Maxwell Beaumont's level in society." Lucretia narrowed her eyes at her niece. "Besides, love makes one weak. It makes a fool out of people. We Nevrakis are never fools. Do you understand?"

Olivia nodded, watching as the poem began to burn along the edges.

"Good." Her aunt rang for one of the servants to have her car brought around and her bags taken. "I expect to never see anything like this in your room again."

Without so much as a farewell, Lucretia swept out of the room.

Once the door was shut, Olivia dashed over to the fireplace and quickly pulled the crumpled papers out. She ignored the burns to her fingers as she quickly patted out the flames. She gently smoothed the wrinkles out as best she could.

She didn't quite understand why Maxwell had given her this. He always acted strange whenever it was July, saying and doing things to get her attention. She just chalked it up to him being simply Maxwell. She also didn't understand why her aunt acted like a noble born from a bloodline almost as impressive as her own was basically a pariah social wise.

All she did know was that she wanted to keep this poem. Nothing would ever come from it, but it was still something that somehow held a great deal of importance to her. She felt almost a sense of pride for being the first girl amongst her peers to receive a love poem from a not so secret admirer.

She'd keep it hidden for herself as a trophy of sorts. There was no reason anyone should ever know just how important it was to her.

Or that she liked it.

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

Olivia found herself rereading Maxwell's old love letter once more. Her lips curved somewhat as she came to the part where he described her hair as a crown of flames that put the beauty of a setting sun to shame. Shaking her head over such foolishness, she slipped it back in her jewelry case.

She'd gotten used to his overly dramatic professions of love. It at first embarrassed her, but as she grew older she simply took it for what it was: Maxwell saw her attributes and couldn't help himself. Olivia knew what others admired about her. She knew her worth and what her greatest assets were: her sharp mind and her striking good looks.

Why stop the compliments when it was simply the truth?

She noticed the time and quickly finished getting ready. Once her mask was firmly in place, she smiled at her reflection.

There is no way Liam will be able to even think of choosing someone over me.

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

The ballroom was packed with nobles and dignitaries from around the globe. Olivia eyed some of her competition with an amused smile.

It's almost too easy. There's no way these other ladies can possibly compete with me.

Her attention snapped to the door when she heard Maxwell's name announced. Her amused smile slowly fell when another name was mentioned tied to House Beaumont.

Who in the hell is Riley Brooks? And why is Maxwell practically doting upon her?

Olivia meandered through the crowd, keeping the pair within her sights. It was strange that Maxwell had not looked around for a glimpse of her. He always sought her out at these types of events. She'd humor him for a while with conversation and a dance or two. He wasn't a bad sort and she probably was more fond of him than she would ever let on.

But he wasn't acting normal. His dimpled smile was directed only on this mystery woman. He was unusually calm. There was no thrumming with the excitement he typically had for a party. He didn't laugh. He hadn't even made a move to get out on the dance floor nor was he sneaking sweets from the nearby buffet.

Olivia despised change, especially in a man who up to this point behaved in a consistent, outrageous manner.

She also hated the unknown, an unknown who must be a suitor for Liam. Her prince.

Summoning a smile, she made her move once this Riley was talking to Drake.

"Will you excuse us," Olivia said in a syrupy tone that made Drake's eyes widen with shock, "but I must have a word with Lady Riley."

She grasped the other woman's arm and practically dragged her away.

"Hey!" Riley wrenched her arm free.

"You're new here." Olivia somehow managed to remain pleasant.

Her gaze swept down the woman's red clad figure. It lingered on the well placed horns.

She really is a devil, Olivia thought. Who else would have the unmitigated gall to wear my color?!

A devious smile curled Olivia's lips.

"Have you met the king yet?" She asked.

Riley shook her head. "No. Maxwell said he would go talk to him first."

"He did, hmm?" Olivia felt an unusual amount of anger flood through her in hearing that. "Let me give you some advice, since you're clearly not a Cordonian."

Riley only quirked an eyebrow in response. If Olivia was already not so set against her, she'd have admitted she was impressed with Riley keeping her cool.

"When you greet the king, remember to kiss his shoe."

Riley blinked. "Kiss his what?"

"Shoe." Olivia replied. "It is customary for all in attendance to pay homage to our king. We being so far below our monarch," her dispassionate gaze swept over Riley once more, "some more so than others, we all must prostrate ourselves before him."

"I see." Riley mumbled, eyes narrowing somewhat in thought.

Olivia noticed Maxwell approaching. She met his eyes and felt a jolt to her system. It was an unusually guarded look in those ocean blue depths of those eyes of his. She couldn't quite tell what he was thinking.

Feeling a bit off kilter in not seeing the obvious adoration in his gaze, she excused herself from Riley. She glanced back to see Maxwell smiling once more at this interloper. He took her arm to lead her over to the line of nobles waiting to greet Liam and Constantine.

Olivia couldn't find a good enough vantage point inside the ballroom. She slipped outside into the courtyard and made her way over to a set of glass paned double doors that allowed her a perfect view of the dias on which Liam stood.

Though she watched Riley with a hint of irritation greet Constantine with a proper non kissing of the shoe curtsy, she could not stop her attention drifting over to Maxwell. He was still acting so out of character. His ramrod posture. The proper tilt to his head. The simple polite smile. She wanted to go over and slap the back of his head to knock the real Maxwell back into place!

If there was one thing she always knew she could depend on, it was that Liam always did the right thing and that Maxwell was always doing his own thing.

She rather admired that quality in Maxwell. No matter what the consequences might be, he never hesitated in doing what he wanted. If he'd been a touch cruel and ruthless in his actions, she'd have thought that a Nevrakis might have at one time been with a Beaumont. But, his antics were innocent and almost always somewhat endearing.

What made him change?

She scanned the crowd for Bertrand. Was he the root cause of Maxwell's new behavior. When she didn't see that more serious minded duke anywhere, she settled her attention once more on Riley.

It has to be her that made him like this. When did it happen? How did they meet? What power does she really have over Maxwell?

And why does it look like she and Liam know each other?!

Olivia was practically seething. She briefly nodded to Kiara and Penelope when they joined her outside. Their conversation revolved around those in attendance and all the usual bits of gossip. Hana soon came outside to greet them.

She was one of the new women to enter their world. Olivia had investigated her the moment she was mentioned to be visiting Cordonia. She might be a possible contender for Liam. She'd been trained in everything and succeeded beyond what many of the ladies could do. She was gorgeous. She also seemed genuinely kind.

She's weak. Too weak. She won't be an asset to anyone, much less Liam.

If she'd known about Riley, she could have investigated her beforehand too. Now she'd have to go about it during the season.

Riley came outside, smiling brightly at them all, and settled between Hana and Penelope.

"Hello." She said to the others. "Everyone having a good time?"

"Of course." Hana replied, relaxing somewhat. "How did it go with meeting the king and Prince Liam?"

"Great." Riley sent a brief smug look towards Olivia. "Both were very happy to meet me."

Olivia humphed. "It looked like you and Liam already know one another."

"Funny how looks can be accurate." Riley quipped. "We've met before."

Olivia's eyes narrowed. Kiara and Penelope took their cues from her and also glared at this unknown entity.

"And where would someone like you possibly meet a prince?"

Riley shrugged with a smile. "The usual places."

"When?" Olivia snapped, irritated with getting nothing out of this woman.

"Once upon a time." Riley teased, thoroughly enjoying this conversation.

"Cute." Olivia bit out. "Regardless of your relationship with Liam, you don't stand much of a chance with him."

"And why is that?" Riley asked as if they were discussing the weather.

"Look around you. You are surrounded by noble ladies who possess the stature and knowledge one needs to reign over a country."

Olivia gestured towards Penelope and Kiara, explaining their lineage and talents.

"Even Hana has a better chance than you despite her broken engagement."

"Thanks?" Hana grumbled.

Seeing Riley still unfazed with the notion of competing with women so far out of her league, Olivia released her frustrations on Hana.

"You should be proud of yourself, Hana. I can't think of too many women who are brave enough to face everyone after such an embarrassing end to their engagement. I mean, to think that after being dumped by some minor earl that you could capture a future king is truly remarkable."

The tears filling Hana's eyes gave Olivia the reassurance she needed that she could still cut people down with her sharp tongue as well as she could with the dagger strapped to her leg.

Riley had somehow made her doubt that ability for a few seconds.

"Hana?" Riley reached out to comfort the distraught lady. "You don't have to listen to her."

"But she's right!" Tears began to fall down Hana's cheeks. "I should have never thought--"

Grasping her skirt, she fled back into the palace.

Riley whirled back towards Olivia.

"You," she hissed, "are a bitch!"

Olivia puffed up with pride.

Damn right I am.

"For what? Reminding her of her place in society?" She asked with a delighted smile.

Riley eyed Kiara and Penelope. "You're really okay with her talking like this?"

"Olivia's only speaking the truth." Kiara snapped.

Penelope added, "If anyone can't take it, then they don't belong here."

Riley glared at them. "I see."

"Do you?" Olivia needled.

"Oh, I definitely do." Riley replied. "Tell me, what makes you so far above the rest of us?"

Olivia began to explain her status as a duchess and why her chances were so great with Liam.

"He would be stuck with a friend like you." Riley taunted. "Good thing I'm here to save him from having to pick his princess from a bunch of children pretending to be so called ladies."

Before Olivia could respond to that, Riley went after Hana.

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

Later that night...

Olivia caught sight of Maxwell leaving a bedroom that must be Riley's. Determined to find out what was going on, she called out to him.

He paused mid-step and walked towards her.

"Good evening, your grace." He greeted politely. "Did you enjoy the ball?"

Olivia glared at him. "What's wrong with you?!"

He blinked. "Nothing. Why?"

"Because you're acting weird!" She snapped.

"I am?"

"Yes!" She hissed. "And I don't like it."

Maxwell's eyes drifted over her face.

"Why?" He asked.

"Why what?" She demanded.

"Why don't you like how I'm acting?" He reiterated. "I thought my behavior tonight was pretty appropriate for the most part."

"That's what I don't like! Since when have you ever acted like some proper, boring nobleman?" Olivia jabbed her finger into his chest with each word.

Her eyes widened when she finally noticed his suit. It was black and red...Lythikos colors. Had he chosen it on purpose for the Masquerade Ball or was it just a coincidence?

"You don't like proper, boring noblemen?" He asked, a hint of a grin forming upon his lips.

Her eyes lifted once more to his. She was not going to dwell on the fact that her colors suited him.

"Who does?!" She threw her hands up in frustration. "Did she make you do this?"

"Who?" He asked.

"That woman you brought tonight."

Maxwell put his hands in his pockets then propped his shoulder against Olivia's doorframe. He studied her about two heartbeats, then shook his head.

Olivia felt her frustrations quadruple. Maxwell was being unusually quiet for once in his life.

She hated it.

"Where did you find that woman?" She demanded.

"In New York." He replied.

"New York? When did you go to New York?!" She nearly screeched.

"Not too long ago."

Olivia groaned. He was giving her a headache with his evasive answers.

"Riley is House Beaumont's suitor." He told her.

"Yeah, I gathered that. And?" She prodded.

"And since this is her first time in Cordonia, I'm going to do my best to make her visit with us as pleasant as it can be." He explained.

Olivia took an involuntary step back.

"You like her, don't you?"

Maxwell nodded. "Of course I do. She's sweet and a lot of fun! Once you get to know her, you'll like her too."

His dimples deepened with his warm smile.

"Riley's really great." He added.

Olivia felt angrier than before she began this conversation.

He never says that about other women. I'M the only ONE he thinks is GREAT!

"I really need to go talk to Bertrand." He glanced down at his watch, completely oblivious to how upset he'd made her with his comments. "He just got to the palace."

Pushing away from her doorframe, Maxwell grinned once more at Olivia.

"See you around, Liv."

Olivia stood there in shock as he walked away without a backward glance.

#choices the royal romance #maxwell beaumont x olivia nevrakis #trr maxwell #trr olivia #trr crackship #can't take my eyes off you #choices the stories you play #choices maxwell beaumont #choices olivia #choices fic writers creations

[harleybeaumont]

My submission for Day 6 of @maxwell-beaumont-appreciation week- Marriage and Parenthood. This could technically count as a throwback fic, but I wanted to save it specifically for today. This was inspired by a Father's Day writing prompt and depicts how I view Maxwell as a husband and father <3

Click here if you're interested!

#mbaw #maxwell beaumont appreciation week #maxwell beaumont #maxwell x mc #choices maxwell beaumont #maxwell beaumont appreciation

[maxwell-beaumont-appreciation]

Click here to see what’s next for Maxwell Beaumont Appreciation Week!

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

[playchoicesconfessions]

Sent by anonymous

‘I will never understand the romantic appeal of Maxwell Beaumont.’

POST/CONFESSIONS DO NOT REFLECT THE MOD’S PERSONAL OPINIONS!

#choices the royal romance #the royal romance #choices trr #trr #maxwell beaumont #playchoices #choices #choices stories you play #confessions #mod bruffle

[kristinamae093]

Ghosted

Ghosted - Always Watching (Chapter 8)

Series Summary - Prince Liam fell for Riley Brooks hard and fast. A marriage filled with love and devotion was within his reach. But everything changed when she vanished just before the end of the social season. As everyone voices their concerns regarding her scandalous departure, a confession from an unlikely source turns Liam's world upside down and makes him question everything around him.

Book/Pairing - TRR - Liam x MC (Riley Brooks)

A/N1 - This AU starts right before the beginning of the engagement tour. There is a two-month lapse between the coronation and where we pick up, but we will stray from canon. Please excuse any errors found.

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

The morning after the discovery of the maid’s body, Liam sat with Olivia, Drake, and Maxwell inside the study at the Applewood estate. Liam canceled the barn raising scheduled for the day early that morning. He told the press it was because of inclement weather, which was not necessarily a lie, although it wasn’t the entire truth. 

Liam realized they could not keep the murder under wraps forever. Only a few people knew the real reason for the cancellation, including those in the safe room, Drake, Olivia, Maxwell, and the guards. He planned to keep it that way until they knew who was responsible, and then he would happily release that information to the public. He visited with Rhonda’s family briefly and told her husband they would receive a stipend from the crown, as well as college funds for her children. 

They all believed that the incidents shared a relation; the only steady lead they had regarding Riley wound up dead days later, and that was no coincidence for anyone. Olivia explained to Liam in great detail her observations at the crime scene; after hearing her retelling, he too believed the area was staged, but he couldn’t make too many conclusions until Bastien presented him with the evidence. 

The bloodied dress put a sense of urgency on things, but the murder really made everything more critical. Whoever was behind this was clearly not playing a game and didn’t want their plan to be uncovered. He was growing restless, not knowing the extent to which this treachery ran. 

It appalled him that all of this happened right under his nose. The doubts about the narrative against Riley were always there, but this runs deeper than just wanting a particular woman to sit on the throne as Queen. Whoever orchestrated all of this was an enemy of the Crown, and Liam was determined to rid that negativity of his court. 

Another part of his impatience was purely the need to see with his own eyes that Riley was safe. The guilt he felt for turning his back on her crept up on him at random times throughout the day, but he was trying to push that aside and focus on locating her at any cost. He hoped that whoever was responsible hadn’t been able to locate her either; he prayed with everything in him that after she arrived in New York, she found a safe place to retreat, far away from the turmoil that was unraveling around him. 

“OH! What about this one?” Maxwell exclaimed, as he sat next to Drake and scrolled through an online catalog of outfits for an upcoming gala.  

Drake rolled his eyes. “Please stop showing me this crap. S’long as you wear something, I don’t really give a shit what you show up in.” 

“What are you going to wear?”

“Clothes, most likely.”

“Clothes, most likely.” Maxwell mocked under his breath. 

“What was that?” Drake snapped. 

“Nothing! Oh, this has a matching one! Look! Ohmygosh we could match! Twins!” Maxwell exclaimed as he once again shoved his phone in Drake’s face. 

Drake grimaced at the sight before him. It was a set of bright blue ocean wave suits, complete with a bright orange squid bow tie. “God, no. Not even if you paid me.” He replied as he shook his head. 

“Oh, come on, Walker. You can be a sea creature instead of one who drags his knuckles on the ground.” Olivia added with a smirk. 

Drake flipped her off. “Fuck. You.” 

Olivia snickered. “I’d rather take a lava bath, but thanks.” 

“I’ll see if Bertrand will match me,” Maxwell said with a mischievous grin. 

“Good luck with that, Beaumont,” Drake answered. 

“It could go better than you think, honestly. He’s been super nice to me ever since we told him about all this stuff with Riley. I miiiiight be able to get him to do it.” 

“I’m taking pictures if it happens, hands down,” Drake chuckled. 

Olivia subtly rolled her eyes. “Stay away from me, regardless of what you wear. You too, Walker.” 

“Way ahead of you there, Ice Duchess.” 

Liam stayed quiet; although he still held rage with Bertrand and his tasteless actions, he hadn’t given his status as Duke much thought. Although it had not left his mind, for now, especially for Maxwell’s sake, he was keeping his inner thoughts to himself. 

A knock interrupted them from their uplifted moment. Liam stood and granted them entrance, and Bastien appeared with a bow. “Your Majesty, I was hoping to give you an update on the homicide.” 

“Of course.” 

“We have no clear suspects. However, we discovered a murder weapon.”

Olivia’s ears perked up from her seat, and Liam’s eyes widened. “You did?” 

“Yes, sir. We found it in the woods near the area, and I sent it off for analysis. It was a black knife with gold trimmings; I believe it to be the same one used in the earlier ceremony that night.” Bastien held out a folder to Liam, who accepted it and started looking through it immediately.  

The picture at the start revealed the murder weapon, which was the same knife used to cut the apple with Madeleine, but covered in blood from the tip to the hilt. He flipped further and felt his stomach churn at the images of the crime scene. The first few photos were of the maid’s face and he could recognize her, but barely. As he proceeded, he suddenly pulled the file away from his face with a grimace as he saw the cause of death photographed.

“I apologize, sir. I should have given you a warning beforehand.” 

Liam swallowed thickly and with a deep breath resumed, but a tad more prepared for the sight this time. “My God…” He gasped. “What – How – I –” He stammered before closing his mouth with a shake of his head.  

“We still don’t know a lot, sir, as it’s still the early stages of investigating. But we are working around the clock to ensure we receive a solution promptly. Obviously, we’re certain the cause of death was the wound in the jugular, however, we have sent the body for analysis as well. When I spoke with the other staff, they recalled seeing her earlier in the day, but her whereabouts past three p.m. are unknown.” 

“Is that everything?” 

“For now, yes. I will let you know something else as soon as I know.” 

Liam resumed his venture through the folder and furrowed his brows at some of the random items photographed as evidence; the things Olivia noted were present, as well as what appeared to be a cap for a tube of lipstick with a clear set of fingerprints. Of course, the suspect could have dropped the item, but it seemed conveniently placed within the other markers. The only thing that implied relevance was a bloodied shoe print. He could tell it was a woman’s, as the base was short and narrow, not to mention the pinpoint of a heel. However, it was still an odd discovery given that there appeared to be no other signs of blood anywhere else except on the body itself. “Bastien, are you questioning the legitimacy of this crime scene? At all? I see multiple red flags here just at first glance.”  

“We found a few things out of the ordinary, but I have sent everything for analysis. I’m confident either way, the forensics will produce some kind of answer.”

Liam nodded, sufficed by his response. “Have you looked for Riley? Or Tariq?” 

“I have attempted but have found no new leads. However, I am still continuing even with arrangements for the tour and the homicide investigation. I am doing everything in my power to provide you with some answers.” 

“Thank you, Bastien. Just… keep me updated…” Bastien nodded and bowed before he exited. As he did, Liam stood staring blankly at the door behind him, his mind a jumbled mess of chaos that seemed to only get worse by the day. 

Drake cautiously approached Liam. “You alright, man?” 

Liam laughed sardonically. “No, Drake, I’m not… How am I just supposed to wait? How long is it going to take Bastien to find something?”

“I’m not sure, but what else can we do?” 

Liam ran a hand down his face and let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know. If I did, we’d be doing it.” He snapped, but immediately caught himself and retracted. “Sorry, Drake. I’m just…” 

“Na, it’s cool. I get it. I wish there was something we could do, but… it sounds like we’re just waiting until Bastien can get those reports back.” 

“Goddamnit,” Liam growled as he slammed his fist down on the desk he stood beside. “I– I can’t just sit here and wait. I need to do something now."

“Perhaps we should seek outside help,” Olivia interjected. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I have an acquaintance who is somewhat of a… ‘private investigator’. He’s not cheap, but he’s worth every penny. He can look into Riley and Tariq’s locations, for sure, as well as whatever else you may see fit…” 

“I’m not against the idea… but how would that even work?” 

“We can figure out the details later, but I have somewhat of a cover already thought of. I can easily say he’s my driver, or bodyguard, or anything, really. Who’s going to question me? Honestly?” 

“Much as I hate to admit it, maybe she’s onto something, Li,” Drake interjected with a sour face. “Bas clearly has his hands full, and I know you wanna get some kind of answer.”

“See? Even the cave dweller agrees!” Olivia exclaimed, earning her a middle finger from Drake. “Plus, perhaps having another set of capable eyes around will do us some good.”

“I want to agree, I really do. It’s just… the last person to get involved with this was… well, you know. Do we really want to put someone else in danger like that?”

Olivia snickered. “It’s cute of you to worry, but he’s more than capable of defending himself.” 

“I don’t know…”

“Do it, Liam! DO IT! Or I will myself!” Maxwell exclaimed. 

“No offense, but how are you gonna pay him?” Drake asked. 

“Perhaps he would be interested in a one-on-one interpretive dance class; we could trade one service for another.”

“Hate to break it to you, but your dance class ain’t worth shit.” 

Olivia rolled her eyes but approached Liam and blocked Maxwell and Drake from view, forcing him to focus on her. Of course, her top priority was ensuring Riley’s safety, but in addition, she had her own questions regarding her blackmail. She would help Liam with anything, but this was more than merely a favor; it was personal. However, Bastien’s competency was undoubtedly questionable in Olivia’s mind. She couldn’t rule him out as a suspect, but she didn’t exactly have something concrete to tie him to anything. For the time being, she needed a second set of capable hands.

“Liam, we have to act on this now. Whoever did this is actively covering their tracks. If we don’t do something, we may never figure this out.” Olivia pleaded.

Liam swallowed thickly and kept his gaze trained on the floor. “I know…” 

“So, let my associate come and assist us. If he doesn’t provide answers, I’ll pay his service fees out of pocket. But of course, I’ll be working alongside him.” 

“I trust you, Olivia, I do. However, I’m worried that putting another person into the equation may end up biting us in the ass in the long run.” 

“I understand, but again, he’s highly trained and knows what he’s doing. All we have to do is keep his cover intact until we can locate one of them. We can’t tip the mastermind off and give them an opportunity to bury this deeper. As long as everyone in this room keeps their mouth shut about his true purpose, we should have no issues.” 

Liam looked away with a heavy sigh; although he remained hesitant to add another person to this mess, the thought of getting any kind of answer outweighed any con he could think of. And, he trusted Olivia to steer him correctly. He finally said, “Okay, do it...” 

“I already did, Liam. He’ll be in the country this evening, hopefully,” Olivia smirked. “Now, we need to address the next order of business…” she trailed off as she approached the window and stared out. “Whoever did this killed that maid to send us a message; I think we need to send one back.”

Liam’s jaw fell open. “What?! Why would you think that, Olivia? We–”

Olivia held her hand up to stop him. “Let me finish; we need to send a message while doing ourselves a favor. The tour leaves for Italy in four days, but that can not happen, Liam.” 

Liam furrowed his brows. “You want me to cancel the tour?” 

“No, I want you to rebuild it to stay in the country. Think about it; you’re technically still going along with their plans, but perhaps throwing a wrench into them. You’re showing that you’re willing to play along for now, but you won’t back down entirely like they assume you’ll do.” 

Liam shook his head. “I don’t think that’s smart, Olivia. We don’t know what they’re capable of or what lengths they’ll go to.” 

“I’m aware of that, but it’s not like you’re canceling everything; you’re simply rerouting, so to speak. The results will still be the same; you’ll ‘marry Madeleine.’ How you get there shouldn’t matter.”

“Isn’t that suspicious? To suddenly keep the tour within the country?”

“It would be, but I thought ahead and I think I have a decent proposal laid out.” Olivia produced a file and handed it to Liam. “How are we going to figure this out internationally? We have to stay here…”

Liam opened the folder and saw a detailed explanation for the sudden changes, as well as a list of future events to be held within the duchies. “Wow,” He responded with wide eyes. “This – this is convincing, and you’ve practically already planned everything… When did you have time for all this?”  

“Last night. I wanted to come and find you right after Walker and I left the crime scene, but I assumed my plan would get a stronger reaction if I laid it out for you. All you have to do is make the calls…”

“I think it’s a solid move, Li,” Drake interjected. “You’re standing your ground but yet still giving the appearance that you’re moving forward for the ‘greater good of Cordonia.’ I’ll help you take care of anything you need help with, or try to at least. But she’s right; we won’t find any more information about what happened to Brooks globe-trotting.” 

“Trust me, I don’t want to leave, but we already set these events! What am I supposed to do to–” 

“You need to pull your head out of your ass, Liam.” Olivia interrupted. “You’re the King and I think this would be a lot easier if you’d start acting like it.” She saw Liam contemplating her statement and stepped closer to him with narrowed eyes. “It’s time you put your fucking Crown on and show these assholes that you won’t back down. What’s really important to you here, Liam? Do you want to figure this out, or are you going to let them use your duty to control you – again? I lay the plan out for you and when my associate joins us, we are that much more prepared if they were to strike back, but we can’t pussyfoot around anymore. You wanted to do something now, so do it.” 

Liam stared at her for a long moment as her words echoed in his mind and a newfound determination took over him. His nostrils flared as his hands balled into fists at his sides. The bright blue orbs that were previously dimmed seemed to darken even further. Olivia was right; this was his country, his call, and the ball was now in his court.

Liam never said a word, but soon marched over to the desk and picked up the phone. He listened intently until someone answered the other end of the line. “Buonasera, Francesco. I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel our pre-scheduled festivities...” 

Liam, Drake, and Maxwell worked the rest of the day and into the evening to cancel all the tour’s events, and were well on their way to planning what Olivia had mapped out. With the newly produced schedule, they would have much more time to focus on their investigation while still keeping the same number of events as before.

Liam’s determination in his decision stood firm, however, he couldn’t deny feeling apprehensive as well. He was sure there would be retaliation in some form and was unsure as to just how far they would go. However, the power he felt at that moment was something he wasn’t used to. Since his ascension, he’d signed treaties and other small documents, but this was the first time he was going to assert his authority in such a large capacity. Adrenaline ran through his veins and for the first time, he felt like a King. 

The door to the study was suddenly flung open without warning, startling everyone inside. Madeleine marched into the room with a red face. “What the hell, Liam?!” Constantine trailed not far behind her, although his expression was one more of confusion than anger. 

“Ah, I take it you’ve learned of our changes?”

“There will be no changes! We’ve had this planned for weeks! We’re not canceling within a few days–”

“I already did.”

The color drained from Madeleine’s face. “No, you didn’t.” 

Liam indignantly laughed. “Oh, I sure did.” 

Madeleine’s cheeks heated further, nearly purple. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Constantine put a gentle hand on Madeleine’s shoulder. “Language.” He scolded. Madeleine stepped back with her arms crossed over her chest. “Liam, I want to believe you’re not doing all of this for an irrational reason.”

“I’m simply doing what’s best for Cordonia.” Liam shrugged. 

Madeleine scoffed and shook her head. "Unbelievable! Have you completely lost your mind? How is this what’s best for anyone?!” 

Constantine turned and gave her a warning glance. “Although I do not agree with her delivery, I echo Countess Madeleine’s question.” 

“First off, explain to me how an international tour is beneficial to Cordonia at this current moment. The only event that even made a difference was the charity banquet in Paris; the rest of it was just a bunch of bullshit. This way, we can rally our people behind us.” 

“It was for publicity, Liam!” Madeleine exasperated. “We need to worry about our international standings, which are going to be shit now that you’ve–” 

“Our key priority is the Cordonian people. My father pointed out to me that the citizens doubt our union already, and I can’t say I blame them. It isn’t a secret that you weren't my first choice, not even the second.” Liam had to hide his smile as he stood from his seat and crossed the room to stand in front of Madeleine. 

He forced the softest tone he could when he spoke again. “I want to do everything I can to ensure this works. I know I haven’t done my part, but this is my first step in making amends. Although the international publicity would be good, we need our homeland’s support more. We can enlist in media coverage so we can still get the word out, but Madeleine, we need to stay here. Cordonia needs us right now; Cordonia needs to see its future leaders united. We have to show them we are going to lead them together.” He swallowed down the lump of bile in his throat. 

Constantine observed Liam’s body language during their interaction. Never had he seen him so confident about a decision; he looked regal, authoritative, not a hint of doubt to be present. Liam made undeniable points, and he had preached to both of them to do more to keep the people's faith in their union. However, he couldn’t help but feel like Liam could have ulterior motives for the sudden change. 

Constantine arched his brow. “That’s why you’re doing this?” 

“Yes, father. I just want to ensure the right people are supporting us. We need strength internally. I’ve adapted all the best traditions into our stops along the tour to honor those who have come before us. And, well–” Liam sighed and looked away. “I need to show the Cordonian people I am in the right mind to lead them. They’ve questioned me since my coronation. I have to show them I can do this… I can’t do that from Italy or Paris...” 

Constantine eyed Liam sternly for a long moment. Throughout his life, he could force Liam to break with only a glance. It never worked on Leo, but Liam always cracked under the pressure if he was hiding something. However, Liam showed no signs of hesitation and there were no slips in his facade. He looked regal, poised, composed, calm, and firm, with just a hint of vulnerability. Since he passed the signet ring to Liam, he was practically begging him to get his head together, and the man standing in front of him appeared to be doing just that.  

Liam knew exactly what Constantine was doing as soon as his brow arched. It’s the same glare that had gotten him into trouble multiple times growing up and he expected to endure the stare as soon as he told his father the news. It took all of his restraint, but he never let his carefully placed expression stray from his features. He silently prayed Constantine couldn’t notice the sweat profusely forming in his palms, though. 

After a long moment, Constantine’s face broke out into a small smile. He stepped forward and patted Liam on the shoulder. “I believe this is an excellent idea, son. You have my full support.” 

Liam had to fight hard to hide his surprise. He expected more of a fight from Constantine, but perhaps Olivia provided the perfect excuse. He slightly bowed and said, “Thank you, father.” 

“Let me know if you require any support in the plans.”

“Thank you, but we’re nearly finished.” Liam turned to Madeleine, who stood with her arms still crossed over her chest. “What do you say, Madeleine? You’re free to look over the arrangements if you’d like. We’ve left your bachelorette party on the same day as before, but the location is open to the entire country… Just say the word and I'll have the jet prepared...” 

Madeleine rolled her eyes. “I don’t get why you want to cancel an international tour so we can go to the same old duchies–” 

“Countess, your King made his wishes known and his reasons are relevant. Do you wish for the people to doubt your reign as Queen?” Constantine asked with his hands clasped behind his back. “Perhaps after the coronation fiasco this would have been the best solution, anyway.”

“Fine, we can proceed with your new plans.” Madeleine finally relented. “But there had better be media coverage, Liam.” 

Liam fought the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he nodded. “You have my word.” 

Constantine smiled and put a hand on both of their shoulders. “I’m proud of both of you. You’re going to change the course of Cordonian history, the two of you. Have you prepared a statement, son?”

“I’m working on it,” Liam answered. “Would you like to be present with me, Madeleine? Perhaps it would be better if we announce the changes together.” 

Before Madeleine could respond, Constantine did so for her. “Yes, that’s a splendid plan. Do use urgency so we may stay on track. Be sure to extend invitations to our international counterparts who we expected to see along the tour, though.”

Liam nodded, and Constantine exited with Madeleine at his side, who trampled away with heavy footsteps. Drake audibly gagged as soon as the door closed behind them. “That was hard to watch.”

Liam shuddered. “Tell me about it. Do you think they bought it?” 

“I think so,” Maxwell answered. “Your dad seemed really into the idea, honestly… and as long as it’s heavily publicized, Madeleine will be happy.” 

Liam rubbed his hands together. “Right… Right… You’re right…”

“Calm down, Li. You did good.” Drake patted him on the back. “They bought it and I think you made a smart move by enlisting Maddy to make the statement with you.”

“I agree. It’s showing the mastermind that although I’m changing things up, Madeleine is on board. That’s who they’re concerned about, anyway... I’m hoping that having her support on this will work to our advantage.” 

“Damn straight. Now, we gotta hurry and throw all this bullshit together so you can get your statement out there.” 

A few hours later, Olivia was on her way to meet with her contact on the outskirts of the city limits. Her acquaintance was someone she worked with in the past and trusted to assist them. He helped her look into the source of her own blackmail after she hit a wall. Olivia only traced it back to three different middlemen; had it not been for her associate’s aid, she never would’ve found the others. He didn't classify himself as an investigator, spy, or hacker; simply a jack of all trades. His skill set and knowledge were insurmountable, and Olivia knew he would be a worthy asset. 

Olivia pulled up to an empty parking lot aside from one other vehicle. A tall man in a black leather jacket stepped out and adjusted his shirt underneath as he did so. He took off his sunglasses and leaned against the side of the car. She exited her own SUV and made her way over, all the while looking around to ensure they were alone. 

“Thank you for meeting with me, Ray. I have a job for you.” Olivia cautiously spoke as she reached him. 

Ray smiled and bowed to her. “What can I do for you, Duchess?” 

“I need you to look into the whereabouts of two people. The first is Tariq, second Riley Brooks.” 

Ray nodded. “I was wondering if you were going to seek help there.” Olivia’s brows furrowed, causing Ray to chuckle. “Please, anyone could tell those photos were fakes or set up. It seems likely that the one who leaked the story is the same person who blackmailed you.”

“It’s not just the story, Ray. We think someone removed her from the situation. We found this–” Olivia produced the trash bag with Riley’s contaminated dress and held it out to Ray, who took it and glanced at the contents. “–inside a shed, along with all of Riley’s other belongings.”

“A shed?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Ray gave her an unsure expression. “I don’t like that, Olivia. That instantly gave me an unsettled feeling. There’s a reason her stuff is there.” 

“Trust me, I know...” 

Ray once again looked inside the bag. “You haven’t sent this off anywhere? To check the DNA?” 

“I intended to, but then I was called to a homicide for the only solid lead we’ve had regarding Riley.” Ray didn’t even try to hide his shock, which caused Olivia to chuckle. “Yeah, tell me about it. Obviously, we’re thinking it’s all connected, but…” 

Ray noticed Olivia’s hesitant expression and inquired, “What?” 

Olivia sighed and explained to Ray all the things she observed the night of the maid’s murder. When she finished, she added, “I was going to have Bastien send that dress off to forensics, but after his futile behavior, I don’t think I want him near it. He’d probably fuck around and lose it or something.” She rolled her eyes. 

“I can have it sent to the lab I use if you’d like. If I tell them it’s a stat order, I should only have to wait a few days.” 

Olivia nodded. “Yes, do that.”

“You got it. Now, have there been any leads into either of your missing persons?” 

“All Bastien has found is that Riley landed in New York the morning after the jamboree.”

“Nothing on Tariq?” Olivia shook her head. “Hmm… I find it odd that there would be no trace of him.” 

“I can confirm on my end I found the same result when I searched.” 

“I’ll begin at once. And you want me to travel with you?”

“Just for now. If we’re correct once the news breaks of the tour’s new destinations, there may be retaliation. I’m not sure what that could look like at this point and I need more people around who can properly assess situations. Honestly, finding Riley’s dress and leaving it opened my eyes to the fact that we’re all emotionally involved in this. There’s no reason for it to have sat in there a second longer once we found it, but we were all so stunned nobody was thinking. I hate to admit it, but even myself included.” 

“I can see why; it’s a lot of information to learn at once and not a lot of it makes any sense from where I’m standing. But I agree that having someone with a firm and clear mindset could benefit you.”

“I’m counting on it.” Olivia handed him a thick folder. “Here is your dossier to cover you throughout the tour. You are now Harold Marshowitz, my new bodyguard. Alternative forms of identifications are in there as well as any security clearance you may need.” 

“Got it.” 

“Great, let’s get moving.” 

“Wait–” Ray stopped her. “While we’re free to speak openly, I wanted to bring forth another potential lead I see…” 

Olivia arched her brow. “I’m listening…” 

“Have you looked into that article? At all?” 

“What do you mean?”

“It had to come from somewhere; it didn’t just appear. Not only did someone have to take those photos, but there was a story attached to it. Someone concocted that; I’m unsure if it’ll be the same person, or…” 

Olivia shook her head as frustration washed over her. “No, I hadn’t even thought about that…” 

“As you said, you’re all emotionally involved in this. I’m not, so I can see things a little more clearly…” Ray trailed off, then hesitantly spoke. “I’m, uh – a little surprised that the guard didn’t think of that.” 

“Bastien is an idiot, but something about his demeanor lately has struck me as off… I don’t know if he’s developing dementia, or if it’s something deeper…”

“All the more reason to have me around,” Ray smirked. 

“Is that something you can look into? The article?”

Ray flashed her a cocky smile and straightened his jacket. “Who do you think you’re talking to?” 

Olivia rolled her eyes. “I’m trusting you, Ray. I need you to come through for me.” 

Ray placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “All jokes aside, this is what I live for, Olivia. I love sinking my teeth into a juicy mystery. I will find them, you have my word.”

Out of sight, a figure was lurking in the shadows not far away, intently watching and listening to the meeting. As Olivia and Ray vacated the area together, the peeper clenched their jaw and repetitively punched the tree they stood beside. After removing their surveillance equipment and slamming it to the ground, they started vigorously pacing.

Everyone assumed Liam could start asking questions, but his duty and broken heart were supposed to keep him blinded. The expected time for his inquiries was long after the wedding when the job would be fully completed. However, Liam and his collective group of friends were making progress in their search and had uncovered too much in a short period; not everything, but it wouldn’t be that hard to find the rest of those answers, especially now that he brought on a competent professional to help. Considering how early it was in the tour, the possibility of him figuring it out suddenly skyrocketed. 

As a result, the entire operation was in more danger than ever before; that was not an option for anyone involved. They served the deception all around; if the mission was uncovered, multiple people would go down for it, and they would face the wrath of more than the current monarch. 

It wasn’t hard to guess where their investigation would lead them next, and that meant another loose end just identified itself. The unknown person brought out their phone to make a call, which was answered on the first ring. “We have a tremendous problem…”

Tags (let me know if you'd like added or removed): @choicesficwriterscreations @ao719 @txemrn @imashybish @queenrileyrose

@kingliam2019 @riseandshinelittleblossom @dcbbw @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight

@amandablink @cordonia-gothqueen @sfb123 @jared2612 @harleybeaumont

@bebepac @charlotteg234 @busywoman

@malblk21 @angelasscribbles

@bascmve01 @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie

@mysticalfangirl @umccall71 @fuckitweball0000 @differenttyphoonwerewolf

@lovingchoices14 @emersyn-in-cordonia

@aussiegurl1234 @karahalloway @the0afnan @nestledonthaveone

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