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sfb123 · 1 year

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Leaping to Conclusions

Pairing: Liam x Riley

All characters belong to Pixelberry

Summary: The pressure to produce an heir is getting to Liam and Riley, leading them to turn to some unconventional methods.

Rating: PG, Adult Language

Word Count: 1,395

A/N: This fic is insanity guys, I'm not even going to pretend it's anything but. I learned the most absurd fun fact this week, and after sharing it with pretty much everyone I know, @ao719 convinced me that it needed to be a fic, and here we are.

For the record, this story doesn't take place in any of my timelines. My Liam and Riley can be weird, but never this weird. 😂

I am participating in @choicesflashfics, the prompt: “Wait a second. Pause and rewind … what did you just say?” will appear in bold below.

And finally, nobody has pre-read this, so apologies in advance for my horrendous grammar, and anything else about it that sucks.

Riley’s eyes fluttered open as she felt Liam’s lips trailing slowly across her shoulder. She moaned softly and arched back into him.

“Good morning, love.” He whispered huskily into her ear.

“When it starts like this it is.” She replied, reveling in the attention she was receiving from her husband.

As his hand traveled up her body, her stomach started to lurch. Her hand flew to her mouth and she leapt out of his arms and rushed to the bathroom of their guest room in the Walker ranch. Liam sat up and watched with worry as the door slammed shut.

After a few moments, Liam stood and approached the door. He could hear his wife on the other end, and he knew exactly what was going on. He rapped gently on the door. “Riley, are you alright? Can I get you anything?”

The only response he received were a few more retching noises, followed by the toilet flushing. Soon after, the door opened, and Liam met Riley’s red, blotchy eyes. “Sorry.”

Liam wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. “You don’t have to apologize, it’s not your fault.” They stood there in silence as Liam held her. “Riley, do you think you may need to take a test?”

Since the royal couple had gotten married, they’d been facing pressure to produce an heir. While they did not take their positions as monarchs lightly, for them, it was more about building a family together.

“It wouldn’t hurt.” Riley shrugged before returning to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Liam took a seat at the end of the bed to wait for her.

“Oh no!” Liam stood and rushed back to the door at Riley’s cry. She came back into the bedroom, more distraught than she had been before. “I dropped the test in the toilet.” She buried her head in her hands.

Liam chuckled slightly, as he wrapped his arm around her. He had read that pregnancy hormones could cause overreactions; he assumed, hoped, that was why she was so upset. “It’s alright, just take another one.”

“Liam, it was the last one!” She snapped.

He stepped back, shocked by her aggression. “That’s alright, we can go into town and get more.”

“Are you kidding?!” Riley threw her hands up in frustration before moving to the bed and dropping down, burying her face in the pillow. “The press has been all over us, the last thing I need is for them to get a picture of me buying pregnancy tests!”

Liam sat beside her on the bed, rubbing her back gently as he racked his brain for a solution. “I’ve got it!”

Riley rolled over and sat up, leaning against the headboard. “What?”

“We’re in Texas, surely there is a frog around here somewhere.” He said as he moved to the dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans.

“Liam, this is no time to go wildlife gazing, I might be carrying the heir!” Riley chided him.

“Love calm down, the frog will be able to tell us.” He said matter of factly as he continued to get dressed.

Her face contorted into a confused expression. “Wait a second. Pause and rewind … what did you just say?”

He sat beside her on the bed and slid on his boots. “For about twenty years, starting in the nineteen forties, before the pregnancy tests we are familiar with today, there was the Hogben test. A British zoologist, Lancelot Hogben, discovered that when urine samples from pregnant women were injected into frogs, the frog would spawn eggs within eighteen hours. It was the most rapid and reliable pregnancy test of the time.”

Riley stared at her husband in stunned silence. “How the fuck do you even know that?”

“I like history.” He shrugged.

Still befuddled by her husband’s solution, Riley took a deep breath. “So you want to inject a frog with my pee, and then in 18 hours either nothing happens and I’m not pregnant, or I am pregnant and we also have a hundred and seventy two frog eggs?”

“They’re called frogspawn, love.” He corrected.

She slapped her palm against her forehead. “Yeah, because that’s the most crucial thing in this conversation.”

“I’m sorry, force of habit,” Liam smiled sheepishly. “Would you like to try it? It’s a fascinating concept, I would be interested to see it in action.”

“Liam, I don’t even want to touch a frog, let alone do science experiments on it.”

“I’ll take care of everything,” he insisted. “I’ll just need your… well, your um… sample.”

Riley chuckled when Liam started to get flustered. “Alright, if it’ll make you happy, and all I have to do is pee in a cup, then let’s give it a try.”

Liam grinned and leaned in, planting a quick kiss on Riley’s lips. “Excellent!”

“I guess Kermit was right, it’s not easy being green.” Riley said, shaking her head.

Liam made his way to a nearby pond in search of the perfect frog. His eyes roamed the banks in search of his test subject. “If I were a frog, where would I be?”

Finally, he noticed a slight movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see a frog seated on a nearby rock. “Perfect.” He stalked toward his prey, making sure to stay as quiet as possible.

Liam was so laser focused that he didn’t notice Drake coming up behind him, curiously observing the actions of his best friend. “Li, what the fuck are you doing?”

Drake’s words startled Liam and before he had time to catch himself, he tumbled over into the pond as the frog lept away. Drake cackled as the King of Cordonia sat waist deep in the pond glaring at him.

“Sorry,” Drake apologized as he reached down, helping Liam out of the water. “But seriously, what are you doing?”

“Riley might be pregnant,” he answered.

Drake furrowed his brow, even more confused now that he had the explanation. “Okay, so you decided to go frog hunting to celebrate?”

“No, we lost the test,” he responded. When Drake continued to stare at him with a blank expression, Liam sighed and explained the Hogben test just as he had done for Riley earlier.

“And Brooks agreed to go along with this?” Drake chuckled.

“We would do anything for eachother.”

Drake rolled his eyes and moved toward the pond. A few moments later he returned with a frog.

“How did you do that?” Liam marveled.

“You had your training growing up, I had mine.” He shrugged in reply.

Liam took the frog from Drake, thanking him for his efforts and began walking back to the house.

“I’ve gotta see this.” Drake said to himself as he followed Liam.

Liam entered the house heading toward the stairs, until he saw Riley sitting with Madeleine on the living room couch. When he stepped up to them, he noticed the crestfallen expression on his wife’s face.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

“I’m not pregnant,” she responded, her eyes trained on the floor.

“But how do you know? I’ve got the frog right here.” He held it up to show her.

Madeleine stood from the couch, glaring in confusion and disgust at the sight in front of her. “When I was in town this morning, I bought some tests. I figured you would need them.”

“Oh Riley,” Liam moved to Riley, outstretching his arms.

“Liam,” she held a hand up to stop him from getting any closer. “You’re slimy, and wet… and holding a frog.”

“Oh, right.” Liam looked down at himself, and the frog in his hands. “I should shower. Care to join me?” He asked slyly.

“Um… maybe you should handle this one solo,” she cringed.

Liam handed the frog over to Madeleine, who grabbed it instinctively. He signaled for Riley to follow him, and they made their way up the stairs to the bedroom.

“So you’re not going to pee on a frog?” Drake called out as they exited the room.

“Ugh,” Madeleine groaned. “None of this would be happening if I were queen.” She turned to Drake, thrusting the frog in his direction. “Make yourself useful and deal with this thing.” She stormed out of the room, mumbling to herself, questioning where things went wrong for her.

Drake looked down at the frog with a grin. “God I love Texas.”

Permatag:

@3pawandme @alj4890 @busywoman @charlotteg234 @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @differenttyphoonwerewolf @emkay512 @foreverethereal123 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @imashybish @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @malblk21 @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @secretaryunpaid @sincerelyella @theroyalheirshadowhunter @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @txemrn

Liam:

@amandablink @custaroonie @jared2612

TRR:

@21-wishes @ao719 @belencha77 @burnsoslow @lovingchoices14 @the0afnan

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesflashfics

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harbingerofdespair · 2 months

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Yes I paid $15 to sleep with Olivia, yes it was worth it.

#playchoices #choices #pixelberry #choices stories you play #choices the royal heir #trr #olivia nevrakis

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cadybear420 · 1 month

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I'm thinking of edit of Drake baby cg with a background of trans and/or gay flag but I can't edit 😭😭

I gotchu fam

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choices-binglebonkus · 1 year

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I will never understand how TRR MC giving birth didn’t traumatize the hell out of her or give her any kind of health complications

-she was injured and FORCED into labor in the middle of a ball surrounded by important nobility and other guests

-during a palace lockdown with a known killer on the loose somewhere

-without an epidural or anesthesia of ANY kind

-and was in labor for HOURS on end with all of this in mind

Like girl are you okay??? How are you not traumatized as fuck? I would’ve died right there on the ballroom floor

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txemrn · 1 year

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Déjà Vu

Chapter 4

New? Check out the first THREE chapters HERE! (Go ahead; we'll be here. 😉)

Series Summary: After an unforgettable night with a stranger, Princess Eleanor finds herself caught in a secret love triangle between a noble and a commoner.

Chapter Summary: Drake heads to Club Core with Leo; he unexpectedly meets a young woman that reminds him of a past life.

Pairing(s): mention of Liam x Riley; Drake x Riley (former)

Word Count: ~4970

Warning: 🔞 Mature Audiences Only 🔞 language (tons; it's Drake); sexual references (crude); mention of excessive drinking; drug-use reference; brief violence

A/N: Welcome to my Crack Fic! If you are new, hi! Thank you for joining us! This story takes place approximately 2 decades after TRR/TRH. I have made some canonical changes (they will be mentioned). Although this is from my crazy mind, it takes a village! Huge thanks to my sweet writing buddies for helping me figure out various parts! Love y'all! Characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry! This was not Beta'd; please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

Drake

What the fuck was I thinking? I hate large crowds and eardrum-piercing music. I hate being around people who can't hold their liquor, not to mention I hate dancing. But even worse, I hate Leonardo Anselm Phineas Rys. Old thorn in my side. What in the actual fuck made me agree to hang out with blondie in the first place? At a club? On opening night?

Because you're lonely, and he offered free booze…

My twisted expression relaxes as I shrug my shoulders. Meh. I guess it could be worse.

"Okay, baby… I'll be home later… yes… I'll tell Liam you said, 'hello'..." Leo gives an obnoxious kissing sound before disconnecting his call with the touch of a button. He lets out a sigh, taking a hit of his vape pen. "Dahlia," he answers to the question I never asked. He glances at me, sucking in his bottom lip before giving me a slow flutter of a wink. "She's a bit clingy."

I nod, drumming my fingers against the leather interior, playing it cool like I care. "Is… she your–?"

"Friend."

Ah. Okay. 'Friend.' The term just glides off of his tongue. Nonchalant. Sweet and syrupy, almost as if he believes the bullshit he's feeding this poor girl that's waiting at home for him.

And she thinks what now? That he's coming over after an evening with his brother's family which, no doubt, she has never met. And judging by that brief interaction with goldie locks here, she doesn’t seem to have the intellectual capacity to wonder why she wasn't invited to the dinner in the first place.

Side-piece. Booty-call. Friend. It's all just semantics to douchebags like Leo Rys.

I fidget with the navy collar to the button-down shirt Leo loaned me. I could barely fit my broad shoulders into the lean cut of his tailored threads. The guy has a rock hard physique, but tough, manual labor creates a different kind of body. A strong one. Like mine.

The buttons pull slightly across my chest as I flash a glance in the car visor mirror. I look like a fucking tool. I'm not used to my stubble brushing up against starched cotton; I'm usually wearing a tee, my work denim and my steel-toes. I mean, unless I'm meeting with a client or going out to dinner where you have a waiter and utensils. But, other than that, I am a fish out of water: this shirt is uncomfortable. And I have a feeling this is just a prelude of what's to come.

At least Leo approved of my jeans and Tecovas. He tried throwing my trusty chambray shirt in the trash. "No one has worn this for at least twenty years… and they weren't even wearing it then."

Fuck off.

We pull up to this club, and I swear everyone in Cordonia has turned out for this spectacle. The moment Rys steps out of his 'I didn't want anything too flashy' red Ferrari, the paps were on him like white on rice. Flashes of light rain from every direction as reporters flood him with curious questions about his Gucci loafers and gray Brioni blazer.

Lucky for me, I'm a nobody, and the press quickly discovers that the moment I step out onto the red carpet. Dropping their cameras and microphones in disappointment, they instantly turn their attention elsewhere. I don't know if I should be grateful… or offended, to be honest. At least confuse me for Leo's new lover… bunch of dickwads.

I push past the commotion, combing my hair out of my eyes as I look around the red carpet. This place is pretty snazzy, but holy fuck, they didn't spare with any expenses. It’s like a fucking fortress: a tall, wrought iron fence encased with stone surrounds the perimeter. Armed security in black tie a la James Bond swarm the space.

Now, the entrance? This wasn't just any ol’ red carpet; oh, fuck no, that wouldn't do for such a prestigious guest list. Contortionists and acrobats on pedestals perform sultry poses and maneuvers, leaving the crowd bewildered and amazed.

Scantily clad women tend to the average Joe commoners waiting in line. They serve hors d'oeuvres and complimentary spirits, fooling them into thinking they're still important even though they're on the outskirts of the main event, and truth be told: they'll never get in.

Taking it all in, I suddenly feel a massive clap against my back before an arm hugs tightly around my neck.

"Ready, Walker?" Leo pops his gum in between his smarmy grin. "Let's get our dicks wet."

—

Fucking. A. I'm pretty sure I just entered the third level of hell.

"Hey-yo, Walker!"

Make that the fourth level…

I glance back at Rys who is now flocked with an entourage of, and I quote, ‘aspiring models,’ all with their fake tits falling out of their tops, their overly-injected blow-job lips, and lashes so thick, you can't tell if they're sleeping or having a stroke. He flashes those pearly whites as he dangles a small, gram-size plastic bag of white powder.

Now, I'm not against tokin' up or getting obliterated with alcohol, but cocaine isn't my style… not to mention, if we got caught–no doubt, Leo knows people that could bail us out, but if Liam and Riley were to hear about this? They'd kick me to the curb in an instant, especially with their kid around. They’d label me as a bad influence, and Liam would give me that fatherly disappointment glare.

"What do you think, Walker?" Leo nods with eager anticipation. "Wanna join… all of us?" He lets out a knowing laugh, winking at the women around him. They take his cue and begin to giggle, as if he was the funniest, most charming man they've ever met.

And my IQ just dropped two points.

"I think… I'm going to… " I notice a large bar area, quickly throwing a hitched thumb back at it. "...I'll check out the bar,"

"Suit yourself." The women practically swallow him whole with their arms. "Don't forget: give 'em my name. Drinks on me!"

The drove of venereal diseases buzzes off with their king, and a sense of relief washes over me. Would I rather be at home? Absolutely, but since I'm already here…

I make my way toward the crowded bar area, ducking between drunken cat fights and groping couples. Finding a stool, I plant my ass down, and despite how busy it is, the bartender tends to me quickly–probably because I'm a 45- year-old man alone in a club. Translation: I have money, I know what I want, and chances are, what I order doesn't require my rim being bedazzled with seasonings, flowers, or fruit.

"What can I get ya?"

Oh, shit, I haven't heard that distinct nasally Portavira accent in so long. My God…

"Um… Larceny. Neat."

"Double?"

My man… I nod as I watch him pull out the bottle and a clean tumbler.

"Do you have a tab started, sir?"

I reach for my wallet, but I abruptly stop, remembering Leo's words. 'Give 'em my name. Drinks on me!'

"I do. It's under Rys," I smirk, "and actually, do you have Macallan?"

The bartender stops, giving me a glance over when finally a Cheshire grin creeps across his face as if he just struck oil. "We sure do, Mr. Rys." He extends his hand to fist bump me before reaching to the top shelf for a new bottle of the liquid gold. Before I knew it, he's twirling the tumbler across the bar. "Enjoy, Mr. Rys."

Taking a sip, I give him a wink as a thank you as I bask in the much needed woodsy burn of clove on my tongue. Damn, that's tasty.

Feeling more relaxed, I glance out onto the dance floor as other club-goers get lost in the hypnotic buzz of the ethanol electrifying their veins. The tantric beat of the music and the flashing swirl of multicolored lights feeds the adrenaline and raging hormones as people grab and grope one another.

I am way too old for this scene.

I grab my glass to take another pull when out of the corner of my eye, I see a familiar face at the bar. Turning my head to get a better look, I suddenly swallow my whiskey down the wrong pipe, causing me to fall into a fit of coughs. Smooth, Walker, real smooth.

Blinking back the tears, I sniff into a napkin before looking back at the beautiful face. Shit. She's absolutely…wow. Gorgeous dark, silky waves, porcelain skin, that pouty mouth with those big, doe eyes… She's the spitting image of… Riley.

"Fuck," I growl at myself before rubbing the shit out of my eyes. No way, it can't be. I look up again, and instantly I can feel my jeans begin to tighten.

You're just wanting to see her. You're just wanting it to be her, especially with what happened back at the palace.

I down the rest of my drink before allowing my attention to be completely saturated by this girl.

It's not Riley. It's not…

See? Her nose appears more prominent from the side, and-and her neck. Her neck seems longer, slender. And her eyes. They're gorgeous and big… they aren't Riley's navy blues, but damn, that sparkle–

"Would you like another–?"

"Please," I grumble as I stare at this Riley look-alike. I just… can't tear my eyes away. Her presence feels so real, so intimate. Now, judging from this woman's creamy, velvet skin, she's young. Maybe early 20s. Way out of my league… but still that face. It's like looking into a past life, a life I once loved.

—

(Two decades ago…)

"Brooks," Drake whispers loudly, "come on!"

"Shhhh!" Riley presses a finger to her lips, stifling her giggles as she looks down from her palace window. "Are you trying to wake everyone up? You're going to get me into trouble."

"You are trouble, lady."

Riley looks back at the commoner, the glint of mischief in his eyes making her adrenaline pump faster through her veins. "Now are you sure about this?" She bites her lip, "you'll catch me if–"

"For the hundredth time, yes," Drake rolls his eyes, holding his arms out wide.

Since Drake's confession to Riley at Applewood, the two of them have been enjoying each other's company, especially after hours. They flirt with danger, sharing in kisses that they swear will never happen again for obvious reasons: she is there to pursue Liam and his hand in marriage; Drake is his best friend.

After watching Liam share a kiss with Riley, a dam of excruciating jealousy broke in Drake's heart. He already shared with Riley before that he was developing feelings for her, but now, it was… something else. Something more.

During dinner, the commoner passed her a note, asking her to meet him outside her window after midnight because they needed to talk.

Riley is staying in the guest quarters off the West Wing with the other suitors. She's only on the second floor, but still, a jump from that high could be dangerous. So, Drake helped the brunette construct a climbing rope with her top sheet.

"I've got ya. Just… ease yourself over."

Riley takes one step at a time, following Drake's directions; but when she gets close to the ground, she looks back at Drake, raising an eyebrow, then jumps.

"Whoa!" Drake stumbles as Riley crashes into his chest, his arms quickly cradling her close. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Riley giggles, combing her fingers through Drake's thick hair. "Sometimes a girl just wants to be caught."

Their eyes lock on one another, Drake's hand finding her cheek. He gently rubs his thumb across her soft skin, her eyes fluttering closed as she leans into his touch.

"Come with me," he whispers softly while grabbing her hand.

"Wait… I thought we were going to talk–"

"I want to show you something." Riley gives him a curious glare. "It's a surprise," he smirks, pulling her to follow him.

They walk silently, hand-in-hand across the grounds, playfully gazing back-and-forth at one another–that is, until all a sudden a bright flashlight skims over where they are walking.

"Who goes there?" A palace guard bellows.

"Brooks, take off your flip-flops," Drake commands under his breath, watching the guard in the distance.

"What? Why?"

"Just trust me," he squeezes her fingers.

Riley quickly kicks them off, holding them in her hands. "Okay… now what?"

Drake grabs her hand again, his grip tight. "Run!" Giving her a warning tug, they both take off across the wet lawn, Riley following Drake's lead.

"Where… are we… going?" She pants, laughter bubbling from her chest.

"You'll see," Drake chuckles, "but we have to lose Barney Fife first!"

Dodging the glow of the searching lights, Drake and Riley finally make it to a large wall of greenery. Finding an entry, they pass through the walkway and hide behind the vines and leaves.

Drake looks to see if they finally lost the guards, but Riley takes a moment to look around the thicket they just entered.

"Whoa," her eyes widen as she looks at the well-manicured covert. "Where… where are we?"

"It's… a maze. A hedge maze that we used to play in as kids."

"Are you serious?" She meanders down a corridor, looking around a corner. "It's so dark. Did you ever get lost?"

Drake chuckles, reaching into his pocket. "Plenty of times." He saunters closer to Riley, pulling out a flashlight and handing it to her. The air crackles around them as the charm of the blue moon ignites the twinkle in their eyes. Drake lowers his voice into a deep gravel. "Come get lost with me, Riley Brooks."

With that, he smiles and takes off jogging, Riley staying close behind. "Hey, not so fast Drake." She turns a corner and notices his denim shirt discarded on the grass. "You lost your shirt."

"Did I now?" He snickers. "Can you bring it to me?"

Riley scoffs into a giggle as she continues through the maze at the sound of his voice. "Maybe if you'd stop running away–"

"Maybe if you weren't so slow–"

"Hey!" Riley chides, "I just jumped out of a window–" she falls silent as finds Drake's belt tossed on the ground. She collects it in her hand, biting her bottom lip. "Drake?"

"You're getting warm," he teases. Riley stumbles through another corner, turning left, then right. The sounds of her toes in the grass compliment her heavy breathing as she stops again to the cooing of his voice. "Warmer, Brooks."

She continues until suddenly, she notices a warm glow just up ahead. Her steps quicken until finally she reaches a small clearing in the maze that opens to a stunning backdrop of the star-filled sky. Gas-lit sconces illuminate the garden, revealing tapestries of vines and flowers fixed to wooden lattice work amongst the bushes.

"Wow," Riley gasps, her eyes glowing with the wonder all around her. "This is beautiful." She feels Drake's warm touch on her hand, their fingers lacing together.

"Cmon," he tugs on her, "I want to show you something."

"There's more?" She giggles, following his lead. They walk a short, pebbled path until they are standing in front of a large gray-stoned well. Riley presses her fingertips to the cold marbled edges before looking down into the dark abyss. Her eyes shift to Drake, "Is this where you murder me?" He chuckles, shaking his head as she turns back to the well opening. "Hello!" She shouts, the echoes welcoming each other back and forth.

"I'll be honest, Brooks." Riley looks back at Drake. "I'm kinda shocked Liam hasn't already brought you here. It's one of his favorite places to show off in the entire estate."

"Oh," Riley's eyebrows knit together with a pained expression.

"Hey," Drake nudges her playfully. "What's with the long face?"

Riley snickers into a scoff before finally succumbing to tears. "I'm just exhausted," she pulls her hands to her face.

"Brooks," he pulls her into his comforting arms.

"This social season bullshit is just … it's really screwing with my head," she sniffles. "I've never been more insecure in all my life, and what for?" She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, clearing her throat. "I wish I knew where I stood. I wish the competition was over. I wish–"

Drake reaches into his pocket, pulling out a couple of worn copper coins. He offers them to a confused Riley.

"Pennies?" She sniffles.

"Yeah," he chuckles, "I forgot to get rid of them when we were in New York. They're worthless here. No conversion."

Riley's lips begin to curl. "Then why keep them?"

Drake starts inspecting the coins in his hand, allowing them to softly clang together in his palm. "I read a book once–"

"--picture books don't count as reading."

"Ha. Ha." He smirks, feigning annoyance as he starts to jingle the coins in his hand. "I read that in ancient civilizations, finding random metals was a sign or a blessing from the gods."

"You see them everywhere back home. The streets, sidewalks," she snickers, "a whole cent. How generous of the gods."

"What? A penny isn't enough for you?" Drake playfully growls, slowly leaning closer to Riley. She coyly bats her lashes, a soft titter in her throat. "Here." He puts a coin in her hand.

"What's this for?" Riley studies the trinket.

"For something bigger, citizens would offer the metal back to the gods, like a payment. So they would say a silent prayer, then toss it–"

"--into a well," Riley softly finishes.

Drake nods over his shoulder to the stoned well. "Let's make your wishes count."

One by one, Drake and Riley silently take pennies, casting them into the well with unspoken hopes and dreams until every last coin was gone. Feeling his close proximity, Riley stares up into his dark eyes, getting lost into a charming stillness.

"What did you wish for?" She whispers.

Drake slowly shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

He offers a crooked grin. Combing his fingers into Riley's dark, espresso waves, his hand gently grips the back of her neck, pulling her closer. "All my wishes have already come true, Brooks." He closes the space between them, their lips grazing one another. The feather-light touch instantly ignites a hunger, one they both feel and crave. Drake pulls back, chuckling under his breath as he fidgets with the hem of Riley's shirt. "So... why didn't you take off any clothes?"

Riley bites her bottom lip. "Maybe... because... I wanted my wish to come true." She pauses, her fingers tucking into the front pocket of Drake's jeans, pulling his hips flush against hers.

He swallows thickly. "Which is?"

"Take them off for me, Walker."

—

(Present)

Damnit. I adjust myself in my jeans, but my cock always hardens at the memory of Riley and me that night. We fucked. A lot. But that night, our first night together, it was more than just sex. We made love.

I take a swig of my new drink that the bartender must've dropped off while I was taking a stroll down the boulevard of broken dreams when my eyes dart to my Riley look-alike.

And I feel my dick shrink.

She's with someone, some blond tool, probably named Chad, with a tool haircut that shops at Tools-R-Us with a matching trust fund.

I sigh to myself, polishing the rest of my drink before staring at my empty glass.

He is pretty hot; I don't blame her.

I glance at them one more time, kissing my own dirty fantasy away when I notice something odd. His hand is sternly gripped around her wrist, staring at her like she's his next meal.

But her face tells a different story. She seems to be struggling, trying to tear her arm away from him. Those big, doe eyes are panicked, large as table saucers as she frantically looks for help.

I sigh. Goddamnit...

I wipe a napkin across my mouth as I stand, my glare fixed on this commotion transpiring before me. I shrug my shoulders, loosening the tight fabric off my back as I stretch my muscles. Just in case.

I hurry my way through the dense crowd of patrons gathered around the bar. I flex my fingers, bending my wrist as I get closer.

Ah, shit. This is the part I'm bad at. What do I say first? 'Stop that!' No, that's lame. I need something clever, like maybe, 'Is there a problem here?' How about–

My clenched fist meets his jaw, knocking the asshole in one swing into a bartop table before he crashes down onto the floor. He's so disoriented; he's trying to get up, but he keeps slipping on shards of glass, falling back into the pathetic rumple he calls his life.

Fuck. My hand. I know it will hurt like a bitch in a few minutes when my body depletes of adrenaline, but for right now, I'm basking in the moment.

A smirk grows on my mouth, but it doesn't last for long. The young woman. I turn to the Riley look-alike, her terrified stare already fixed on me. Instinctively, I carefully put my hand on her shoulder. She's shaking.

"Excuse me, miss. Are you alright?"

Ho.ly. Fuuuuuuck.

Brooks? Seeing her up close is almost painful; I can feel my balls beginning to ache. This woman is hauntingly stunning: the subtle freckles on her nose, the curve of the bow to her top lip, even the flounce of her long, flirty eyelashes. She's beautiful; she's… like somebody I used to know…

The young woman shyly nods, but she's trembling. She's clearly not alright.

And I suddenly possess this overwhelming need to take her in my arms, hold her tight and let her know she's safe.

Calm down, Walker.

"Let's get you away from this." I look up, noticing an open lounge-type area near the dance floor with large, plush couches. Offering my arm, she holds on tightly as we escape through the debris of the nightmare that just happened. Placing a reassuring hand on her back, I encourage her to sit.

I, on the other hand, keep an eye on douche canoe who is being helped up by security and his friends. But, I don't think he'll be a problem for us anymore tonight. He never got a good look at me, and even if he had, something tells me his ego would keep him away from telling the truth of who made him taste his own blood.

Turning towards the young woman, I notice she is anxiously looking around, her body on edge. I tilt myself to her ear, shouting over the blaring music, "Are you here with anyone?"

She nods, "B-but it's okay," she yells back, waving her hands. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

She fakes a smile, and my God, it knocks me back. Stunning.

Focus on her words, Walker...

"I don't exactly want to…"

I don't quite understand the rest of her statement, her words lost in the heavy beat of the music. I give her an inquisitive look, causing her to careen towards my ear, her hand brushing across my shoulder.

And my cock twitches. Breathe, buddy…

"I said… I don't want to interrupt their fun." She motions aimlessly to the dance floor. Got it.

"Can I call someone for you? Family perhaps?"

Her eyes widen. "What? No, no."

She grins, but it's clearly hiding her true feelings. Which is fine. I'm a complete stranger. Shit, she probably thinks I'm some creepy old man, hitting on her at the bar. And sure, maybe on a night where she wasn't assaulted, maybe I would've bought her a drink, asked for her number.

But the fact of the matter is this: I really don't feel comfortable leaving this girl alone. She just got into a physical altercation with… whoever that guy was. Her boyfriend? Oh shit, husband? I look at her hand; I don't see a ring, but that doesn't mean anything. You never know these days. Still, she doesn't need to be by herself right now. She really doesn't need to be here, but again, who am I but another creep at the bar.

I run my fingers through my hair. Oh, what the hell. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

A hint of fear crosses her expression as she looks me over.

I hold up my hands in defense before leaning over her shoulder. "I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone in a place like this," I shout, "especially with what happened with your boyfriend."

She takes a deep breath. She flashes those big, brown eyes at me before finally nodding in agreement.

And my heart melts.

I offer my hand. "Drake."

The corners of her lips curl as she takes my hand, leaning towards my ear. "Jake?" She yells.

I shake my head, facing her ear more directly. "Drake!" I holler over the deep thrumming of the bass.

She raises an eyebrow. "Jake?"

Eh, close enough. I smile in agreement.

"I'm Nora," she smiles, already more relaxed.

"Nora?" I repeat, ensuring I heard her correctly. At least one of us should be called by our real names this evening.

She nods innocently, a beautiful rosy pink painting her cheeks. "Oh, and, um… he's not my boyfriend." A piece of her hair falls like liquid silk into her eyes as she looks down at her lap. She quickly shoos the wisp away, chasing it behind her ear before looking back at me, trying to figure out my angle. Am I here to hurt her? Flirt with her? Invite her home for a messy, drunken fuck?

Don't worry, sweetie, you're safe with me.

"American?"

She catches me off guard with that one. "Uh, yeah. How did you–?"

She points to her mouth, her lips perfectly rounded and plump, painted a deep crimson. Oh, duh. My watered-down accent. Toto, we're not in Texas anymore. It's hard to believe that at one point in my life, I actually sounded like these people. Every once in a while, the Cordonian beast pounces, but these days, I sound like the typical American mutt.

"Are you on vacation?" Nora asks.

I smirk, shaking my head. "I… moved here for work."

"To Cordonia?" She snickers. "Of all places?"

"Fair," I chuckle under my breath as I feel the heat rise up my neck. "I… grew up here, so I have… connections, friends and family. It makes for an easy transition. How about you?"

Her eyes brighten, like a pageant contestant being asked about world peace. "Cordonian. Born and raised."

"That's unfortunate," I joke. Sorta.

"Hey," she giggles, scrunching up her nose playfully. She swats the back of her hand against my shoulder. The touch sends a shockwave of familiarity, robbing me of my breath. "I love Cordonia–"

"Spoken like a true Cordonian."

"And… what's wrong with that?"

Drake guffaws. "What isn't wrong with that?"

"Your tone is suggesting that there's something wrong with having pride in your country–"

"It's egotistical–"

"The only thing egotistical is thinking that your opinion about Cordonia is the only opinion to be had." She furrows her brows. "If you hate it so much, why did you come back?"

Shit. She's feisty. And this conversation has gone completely off the rails. I can't tell if she's really pissed… or if I'm just really turned on and wanting a sparring match.

Fuck. You just had to be a jackass…

"Okay, truth?" I offer, even though I'm sure she wants to toss a drink in my face at this point.

She turns to face me, tucking her leg underneath her. "Please."

"I had a rough time fitting in here. Except for my best friend. He's–" I grin thinking about Liam and I, growing up together, how perfect and inseparable we were. "--as Cordonian as you can get. Well, except… I mean, his mom… nevermind," I shake my head. "He's the nicest person I've ever met in my life. I needed some help after a bad business deal, and… he was there and… now I'm here."

"Huh." She sits back, crossing her arms as she takes me in. She raises an eyebrow, the corner of her lips curling. She's clearly unsure of me, and I don't blame her.

"Drinks?" A cocktail waitress dressed in a skimpy, leather skirt interrupts us.

Rubbing the back of my neck nervously, I turn to Nora. I have a feeling that this might be the end of the night for us, especially if I don't offer her a cocktail.

I stare at the sparkling flecks of bronze in her eyes. There's something about this girl, more than just the memories she stirs up in me. I can't explain it… shit, then again, maybe I'm fooling myself, wanting something to be there that never was. Still… I clear my throat… you never know unless you try.

"Would… you like one? A drink?"

She narrows her eyes in thought… and fucking hell, she's so goddamn beautiful. Like Riley incarnate. The mannerisms, some of her expressions. Watching her literally robs me of speech and air, and I am dying to spend more time with her. Hell, who knows where the night will take us.

I really hope she agrees to this drink. I can tell I haven't exactly won her over in the past twenty minutes, but if she would just agree to one more drink, just a few more minutes with me, maybe history could repeat itself. Maybe I could experience the woman of my dreams in a different way. Now, I could never tell Nora this; she could never find out. I mean, I am attracted to her, it's just…

"Sure," Nora interrupts my thoughts, her lips curling. "I'll take a drink."

~🖤~

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

~🖤~

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#the royal romance #the royal heir #choices the royal romance #choices the royal heir #choices trr #choices trh #princess eleanor #drake walker #riley brooks #liam rys #crack fic

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alj4890 · 1 year

Text

Love Drabble

(Liam x Riley) along with their daughters from this drabble

A/N Yes, I couldn't stay away from this story. I thought it would be a good time to return to this to show how Liam and Riley are doing along with Charlotte and Hope. Romance is in the air for not just our main couple, but for their daughters too 🥰 On a side note, I started this before Valentine's Day, then writer's block struck in the middle, LOL! Hopefully I can finish up this two to three part miniseries soon.

@gkittylove99 @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg @amandablink @neotericthemis @mm2305 @sfb123 @tessa-liam @thesvnsins @krsnlove @choicesficwriterscreations

Rating: G for major Fluff ☺️

Masterlist

Song inspiration:

L-O-V-E (part 1)

Cordonia...

"Purple is Hope's favorite color." Charlotte explained. "So I think we should change some of these landscape paintings to highlight the new bedspread and chaise lounge."

Liam watched with a smile upon his face as the servants eagerly began to do as the princess suggested.

He wrapped his arm around his daughter and squeezed her in a side hug.

"Hope's going to love all the ways you are trying to make her first visit here special."

Charlotte bit down on her bottom lip. "I hope she does. I want her to feel at home here."

"So do I." He led her out of the bedroom towards their informal den. "How are the ball preparations coming along?"

"Everything is set." Charlotte scrolled through her tablet for her to-do list. "I went with a red theme since it is so close to Valentine's Day"

"Perfect." He replied. "That should put everyone in a more romantic mood."

Charlotte nearly tripped over that observation.

"Dearest?" He stopped her. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing's truly wrong." She sighed. "I've been so focused on discovering I have a sister that I forgot about choosing a suitor."

"You know I'm not going to pressure you into naming someone." Liam pointed out.

"I know." She slipped her hand in his to gently squeeze. "But the public is anxious for me to do so." Her nose crinkled. "As are some of our nobles."

"I see." He could very well remember all the pressures of that nature. "Perhaps this ball will be the one to eliminate that worry."

Charlotte began to smile. No one could be more optimistic about her uncertain future than her father.

"You come from a long line of Rhys who have found their significant other at a ball." He wrapped his arm around her as they continued down the hallway. "I have no doubt you'll continue that tradition."

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

"I'm so nervous." Hope quickly buckled her seatbelt. "I don't know if I'm ready to meet a whole country."

Riley laughed as she buckled her own. "You're not having to meet everyone in Cordonia. Just most of them."

"Not helping, Mom." Hope grumbled.

"Do we have to stay by your side while you greet everyone or can we go on to the palace?" Her best friend, Sean, teased.

"Don't make me regret forcing you to come." Hope playfully pushed him. "If you do, I won't introduce you to my sister."

"Just as I thought." He settled back in the plush leather seat of the private plane. "Already acting like a spoiled princess."

He clucked his tongue in disapproval.

"Ms. Brooks, what are we going to do with Hope?"

Riley studied her daughter for a moment. "Only one thing to do, Sean."

Hope's eyes widened. "No! Please! Not that! Anything but--"

They both began to belt out Don't Worry, Be Happy.

Hope covered her ears to the song she'd always despised.

"Alright!" She yelled out when they got to the chorus. "I'll introduce you to Charlotte!"

"Thank you." Sean's unrepentant grin appeared on his face. "I can't believe I missed all the excitement of a king and princess appearing on your doorstep."

"It was crazy there for a while." Hope motioned towards her mom. "She was speechless for a good ten minutes."

"In my defense," Riley softly smiled over the memory of seeing Liam again, "I'd had a very hard day and was not suspecting to see any former flames of mine."

"Former flames?" Hope chuckled. "I don't think my father really fits in that category anymore."

"Hope." Riley shook her head.

"He calls you, my love." Hope reminded her. "I think he is still in love with you."

Riley tried to dismiss that.

"He did fly all the way to New York for you." Sean added.

"He came to see the child he'd unknowingly fathered." Riley reminded them.

"He came for you first though." Hope argued. "You were the one he went to first to explain everything."

"It doesn't matter." Riley ended the conversation. "He's a king and I'm still that same girl I was twenty years ago who was nowhere near a part of his world."

She closed her eyes and tried to stop her own butterflies in her stomach from fluttering too much. Too much time had gone by for her to begin to hope for another chance with Liam.

He and Charlotte remained in New York over the holidays. For nearly two weeks, she'd had daily contact with the man she'd thought she had gotten over. Seeing him be so open and happy over finding out he now had two daughters made her want to melt.

Deep down, he was still that shy prince who only wished for a family of his own.

Why was he the one man she could fall in love with each time she saw him?

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

"I have to hurry!" Charlotte held up two dresses. "I don't want their plane to land and not be there to greet them."

Lord Bartie Beaumont sat on the edge of her bed, head tilted in thought over her choice of clothing.

"Maybe you shouldn't go with a dress. How about something a bit more casual?"

She dropped the dresses on her floor and rushed back into her closet.

"I can't wait to meet your sister." Bartie said a bit louder so she could hear him. "After all that Uncle Max told me about Riley, I bet Hope will be just as much fun as her mom."

"She is!" Charlotte responded excitedly. "You're going to love her!"

His dimple grin appeared when she came back out to talk about her sister, forgetting the need for the perfect outfit.

"Lottie?" He interrupted her descriptions of Hope. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

He motioned toward the pile of clothes she'd yet to choose from.

He laughed when she squealed and ran back into her closet to find just the right outfit.

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

"They're here!" Charlotte nearly bounced in excitement. "Hurry, Father!"

Liam chuckled as he followed his daughter out to the tarmac. He couldn't help but feel excited himself. He'd been just as anxious in welcoming Hope to Cordonia. He was also just as nervous to welcome Riley back.

The time he spent with her in New York was perfect. He loved every moment being with the ladies who held special places in his heart. Seeing his two daughters grow close and his former love embrace Charlotte as a member of her family made him, for the first time in his life, wish he didn't have to return to Cordonia.

He'd wanted to remain in Riley's small apartment forever.

He couldn't stop his imagination from thinking that this is how it would have been. The two of them watching their children enjoy the holidays together, sharing a bond he knew so well. That bond had been what had made his marriage to Madeleine more easy to endure.

Yet, he felt so much more for Riley than his late wife. He always had.

Liam wondered if this could be his chance at the love he'd lost twenty years ago.

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

"Hope!" Charlotte hurried over and hugged her sister the moment she stepped off the plane.

Hope hugged her just as tight.

The two began to talk over the other, laughing and answering each other's questions.

Liam looked up at Riley standing on the next to the last step of the plane. Her delighted smile over the girls' greeting made his own appear.

He edged his way around them to offer his hand to her.

Riley's fingers fluttered in his hand at the contact.

"How was your flight?" He asked.

"Perfect." She responded. "You didn't have to send a private plane for us."

"Nonsense." He glanced up at the young man who followed after her.

"Oh!" Hope exclaimed. "Sorry. This is my best friend, Sean Yeoh." She waved towards Liam. "That's my dad and this," she kept her arm around Charlotte, "is my sister."

Sean chuckled as he held his hand out towards Liam to shake. "Hope hasn't stopped talking about either of you. I feel like I know you already."

Liam shook his hand with a welcoming smile. "She did the same with you while we were in New York."

Sean turned towards Charlotte to shake her hand and stilled for two heartbeats.

A slight blush covered her cheeks from the way he stared at her as she held her hand out.

"Welcome to Cordonia." She managed to get out.

"Tha--thanks." He stuttered.

Hope only smiled over the way they were reacting to one another.

She'd planned for just this reaction to the two finally meeting.

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

"This is my room?"

Hope's jaw dropped over the immense size of her bedroom and bathroom. The closet alone was bigger than her bedroom back home in New York.

"And this is your sitting room."

Charlotte opened a hidden door to reveal a room filled with plush furniture, a large flat screen, and a wall covered with bookcases.

"Holy crap!" Hope exclaimed.

Riley snorted in amusement.

"If you want to change anything," Charlotte said quickly, "please let me know and I will have it done at once."

"Change anything?" Hope's eyes widened. "I wouldn't change a thing! These rooms are gorgeous!"

Charlotte visibly relaxed in hearing her sister gush about how much she loved it.

"Charlotte's been working ever since we returned to make sure you felt at home here." Liam gently placed his arm around Hope's shoulders. "We both want you to feel like you belong here."

Hope hugged him before pulling Charlotte into the hug.

"Thank you." Tears of joy sparkled in her eyes. "Both of you."

"We'll let you get settled." Liam pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Once you've recovered from the flight, I would like to introduce you to Regina and a few other close friends." His smile was warm. "I managed to keep the other nobles away until the ball, to give you time to adjust."

"Right." Hope paled some. "I'm still not sure how to act as a princess."

"Just be yourself." Charlotte told her.

Liam nodded. "I only want everyone to meet my daughter. Nothing else is expected of you."

Hope tried to smile at that.

"We'll be right by your side the whole time." Charlotte promised.

"And you've got us in your corner too." Sean reminded her.

Riley slipped her hand in her daughter's. "You'll do great."

They all filed out, leaving the new princess alone with her thoughts.

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

"Charlotte, would you mind showing Sean his room?" Liam asked. "I need to have a word with Riley."

"Of course." She smiled at them both before leading Sean away.

"What's wrong?" Riley asked once they were alone in the hallway.

"Nothing at all." He opened the door to her room, following her inside.

She paused at the sight of the room she'd been given her first visit to Cordonia.

A reminiscent smile graced her lips as she thought back. The flood of emotions swept over her. Excitement over being in a palace and being a suitor for a handsome prince. Delight in making new friends. Hopefulness in a future with the man she'd fallen in love with.

And then sadness when he chose another.

"Riley?" Liam cleared his throat. "There will be a ball while you are here."

"Yes, I heard about that." She turned towards him. "I hope Drake, Hana, and Maxwell will be there."

"They will be." He chuckled. "The moment I told them about Hope, they insisted I allow them to visit you both first."

"Good." She sat down and motioned for him to do the same. "I take it no one has objected to Hope once you received the paternity test results."

"You were right to make me go ahead and have that performed before I left New York." Liam sighed. "I suppose it was naive on my part to assume they would accept Hope without question like I did."

"Perhaps."

Riley felt her heart she had tried to protect from him grow softer with remembering how he didn't see a reason for a test. He'd accepted her explanation without a shadow of a doubt. After all these years, he still believed the best in her.

"Then again," she smiled at him, "perhaps that simply makes you a good man."

"I hope so." He dropped his gaze to his clasped hands. "I have a request."

"You do?"

He nodded. "Would, would you allow me to escort you to the ball?"

Liam's bashfulness flashed making Riley melt even more.

"I'd always wanted to escort you to one when you were last here."

He swallowed a touch nervously.

"Are you sure you can be seen with such a scandalous woman?" Riley halfheartedly teased.

"You aren't a scandalous woman." He argued.

"I am." She pushed out of the chair to stand at the window. "I was caught with another man and managed to have your child." She snorted. "If that isn't scandalous with a capital S then nothing is."

"Riley," he got to his feet, "I know you were innocent with Tariq." He rubbed the back of his neck when she remained silent. "And I am just as guilty for Hope's creation."

When Riley remained silent, he took another step towards her. He wanted to hold her in his arms and take her mind off the past. If he could only redirect her thoughts to the possibilities the future held for them.

Liam instead reached for her hand.

"I won't pressure you into allowing me to be your date for the evening." He lifted her hand to his lips. "But I do hope you allow me the pleasure of your company."

He bowed to her and left.

Riley softly groaned as she sank down onto her bed.

It might as well be twenty-one years ago. She was more than ready to be with Liam as much as he wanted her to.

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

"Thank you, Charlotte." Sean said. "Er, I mean, your highness." He flushed when she smiled at him. "Your majesty?"

"Just Charlotte." She insisted. "If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call the staff or myself."

She waved towards a phone on his nightstand.

He walked over to it, reading the various extensions to the kitchens, housekeeping, and stables.

"What's your number?" He asked.

Charlotte brushed past him to reach for the notepad and pen.

He stilled at her being so near.

She quickly wrote her number down.

"Here." She looked up at him with a shy smile. "Just in case."

"Just in case." He repeated with a grin, trying to summon his usual confidence around beautiful women.

"I'll see you soon, I hope." Charlotte said on her way out.

"I'll make sure of it." Sean promised.

The moment she shut his door, he collapsed face first on the bed.

"I'll make sure of it?" He groaned into the mattress. "Brain, you failed me again."

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

An hour later, Hope peeped outside her room. She'd been unable to get ahold of Charlotte. She knew her mom was probably napping. Sean most likely was too since he didn't respond to any of her texts.

Her curiosity over the palace had grown to the point where she didn't think she could wait any longer without doing a bit of exploring.

Once she saw that the coast was clear, she slipped her tennis shoes off and padded silently down the hallway.

Bartie Beaumont was walking past a connecting hallway and saw her creeping further away from where he was, holding her shoes. Grinning, he took his own shoes off and tiptoed quickly until he caught up with her.

Hope didn't notice him behind her as she paused before stepping out in the open area of the second floor. Glancing right and left, she softly huffed over not knowing which way she should go.

Bartie was about to whisper a suggestion when she suddenly threw one of her shoes in the air.

When it landed the toe pointed towards a little to the left. Swiping it back up, she dashed over toward that hallway.

The young lord covered his mouth. Tears of laughter filled his dark brown eyes as he realized she'd used her shoe as a substitute coin. Shaking his head in wonder, he followed her on to see what other mischief she'd get into.

Voices could be heard further down, causing Hope to freeze in uncertainty. She spun around and crashed into Bartie.

Her eyes widened as she looked up at his smiling face.

"Hide me!" She pleaded in a breathless whisper.

He quickly unlocked his bedroom door and shoved her through, closing her in there.

"There you are." His father, Bertrand, grumbled. "Your mother and I were wondering if--why the devil are you not wearing your shoes?!"

Bartie dropped the objects and did his best to appear innocent.

"Your uncle perfected that expression." Bertrand softly groaned. "I don't believe I have the stomach to hear what you've truly been up to."

Savannah laughed, looping her arm through her husband's. "Knowing Bartie, he's probably helping Princess Charlotte entertain her sister."

His dimpled smile appeared. Bartie could always count on his mother believing he was doing something worthwhile. Even if he occasionally, on a regular basis, got up to trouble with the crown princess.

Bertrand merely humphed in response. "Do try and keep the Beaumont name free of ridicule this time."

"Yes, father." Bartie promised.

Once the couple disappeared, he collapsed back against the door in relief.

Bartie tried to catch his balance when his door popped open. With arms flailing he crashed back into his room, landing on a soft, definitely feminine figure.

Hope's muffled cry of surprise turned to a painful laugh.

Bartie quickly rolled off. Worry clouded his features when she flopped her arms weakly over her face. Hope's entire body trembled violently.

"Where are you hurt?" He pleaded. "Did you break or--"

She lowered her arms to reveal how hard she was silently laughing. Unable to hold it in any longer, she released the biggest guffaw Bartie had ever heard.

He joined in, delighted to finally meet a lady able to truly ugly laugh without worry over how it appeared.

He got to his feet and offered his hands to help her stand.

She grasped them with one more giggle and allowed him to pull her upright.

She slid in her socks, crashing against his chest.

Bartie's arms instinctively wrapped around her to keep her standing.

"Thank you." She smiled up at him.

"My pleasure." He smiled back. "I'm Bartie, by the way."

"I'm Hope." She responded.

"I guessed as much." He chuckled. "My uncles were friends with your mom."

"They were?"

"Drake Walker and Maxwell Beaumont." He added. "Given how much they spoke of her, I believe we are destined to be friends too."

"My first friend in Cordonia." Hope said with a great deal of relief. "I can't tell you how grateful I am that you aren't pompous."

She realized she was still in his arms.

Breaking away with a blush, she held her hand out.

Bartie took it. Instead of shaking it like she intended, he swept an elegant bow before her and kissed her hand.

Her lips parted in a delighted surprise.

He winked at her. "Shall I escort you around the palace? Or would you rather continue to sneak about?"

Another giggle escaped her.

"Sneaking is more fun." She pointed out.

"I couldn't agree more."

Bartie kept her hand in his, and tiptoed the two of them further into the castle.

#Spotify #choices trr #the royal romance #trr #choices #liam x riley #king liam x riley #choices the royal heir #choices fic writers creations #mood music monday

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sciralta · 2 years

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Not to TRR-post in the year of our lord 2022, but… is Kiara, like, the only person in the cast who demonstrates any proficiency in being a politician? I’m serious.

#i’m only thinking about this because of that ruthless drag we all know the one i’m talking about #playchoices #choices #kiara theron #the royal romance #choices the royal romance #the royal heir #choices the royal heir

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playchoicesconfessions · 10 months

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Sent by anonymous

‘King Liam is one of the best LIs of all time. ’

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

#choices the royal romance #choices trr #trr #the royal romance #choices the royal heir #the royal heir #choices trh #trh #king liam #liam rys #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices #confessions #mod bruffle

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sfb123 · 2 years

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I was lucky enough to win a commission by the wonderful @/artbyainna for @ao719’s Tumblrversary giveaway, and I am absolutely FLOORED!

LOOK AT MY BABIES! This is Liam and Riley from a pivotal scene in my series Sapere Aude. I was going to post a snippet, but it's completely loaded with major spoilers, so iykyk. If you don’t, check out the series master here. If you don’t want to read the whole thing, and want the spoilers of this scene, it’s from chapter 8.

Thank you so much to Anitah for your generosity (and congrats again on that Tumblrversary), and to Ainna for using your incredible talent to help me bring one of my silly stories to life yet again.

Permatag:

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TRR:

@21-wishes @ao719 @belencha77 @burnsoslow @lovingchoices14 @ofpixelsandscribbles @queenrileyrose @the0afnan @tinkie1973

Liam:

@amandablink @cordonianprincess @custaroonie @jared2612 @xpandass420x @yourmajesty09 @zaffrenotes

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a-cloud-for-dreams · 7 months

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Cordonia and Drakovia fr

#jk jk i didn't finish the ridiculously long TRR/TRH series so this might not be super accurate but the vibes are so different it's hilarious #playchoices #the royal romance #the royal heir #crimes of passion #crimes of passion 2 #choices book club

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cadybear420 · 7 days

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Why is r/Choices so obsessed with complaining about TRR MC not having a backstory... like that is such a non-issue. It's the king god of non-issues.

like... just come up with your own backstory for your own MC. the writers even said that that was the point. and seriously like... try it. it's fun. sometimes less is more.

#same goes for OG HSS MC too #although people don't complain about that nearly as much #choices stories you play #choices #choices game #choices stories we play fandom #choices stories we play #trr mc #trr #choices the royal romance #the royal romance #choices the royal heir #the royal heir #choices trh #trh

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choices-binglebonkus · 1 year

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Flanderization is the process in which a complex, fleshed out character gradually gets reduced to one or two traits through oversimplification. While present in varying degrees across certain Choices series, Flanderization is most present and potent in The Royal Romance/Heir/Finale.

Pre-Flanderization

MC: A newcomer to court who’s hella oblivious but incredibly resilient and willing to go out of her comfort zone for her friends. She is fiercely independent and free-spirited, something that each character she meets in Cordonia comes to respect her for. She has her silly and ditzy moments, but she's usually good at behaving in a relatively civilized manner when she needs to be. She is no stranger to hard work, and this greatly helps her adjust to courtly life.

Liam: A crown prince and eventual king as of book two who longs for freedom while also grappling with his role in the monarchy. He CONSTANTLY struggles with his desire for freedom and levity versus the leaden weight of the crown, though his sense of duty usually wins out in these internal battles. More than anything, even his own longing for freedom and independence, he wishes for the safety of his people and the prosperity of Cordonia.

Hana: A prodigy who has been forced into rigorous classes on etiquette and courtly skills since young childhood. She is remarkably talented, though incredibly humble, and is always happy to help teach others when they need assistance. She is very meek and doesn't like confrontation, and often struggles to stand up for herself, but ultimately grows stronger and more confident as the story progresses, eventually even standing up to her demanding parents. Ultimately, she wishes for the agency to choose her own path, whatever that may be.

Drake: A commoner who has long struggled with his place in the Cordonian court, regardless of his friendship with the prince and his father's service as a Guardian of the Realm. He is gruff and jaded from his negative experiences and poor treatment by nobles and royals, which only worsens when his sister disappears. He fears the prince will eventually forget about him, or worse, will be embarrassed by him, because he is merely a commoner. He is teased by his friends for his lack of courtly knowledge but does eventually take time to learn courtly customs for the sake of the prince's image. Regardless of these fears and his bitterness, he is a loyal friend with a heart of gold and a healthy dose of humility.

Maxwell: A younger brother to the Duke of Ramsford who feels he is a screw-up and believes he is rightfully overshadowed by his much more responsible brother. He is carefree and fun-loving and sometimes a little absent-minded, but he has moments of wisdom and true helpfulness sprinkled throughout. He is goofy when the occasion calls for it and is always happy to indulge in a wild party, but can just as easily embody seriousness and solemnity when need be.

Olivia: A catty duchess who clings to the prince as a result of his kindness to her during the most traumatic time of her life as a small child. She is devious, two-faced, and extremely petty, often starting arguments or going for low blows just because she can. She is not used to people standing up to her, which ultimately mellows her out, though she is still aggressive at times. Particularly pressing situations let her fierce loyalty to king and country as well as her competency in combat shine through despite her initial struggle with her identity as a Nevrakis, who are known for their betrayals and scheming.

Post-Flanderization

MC: Constantly flies by the seat of her pants and somehow makes it through the most dire situations unscathed. Her silly side stops being silly and starts being unapologetically idiotic. Of course, despite her bumbling nature, she's still seen as a dangerous threat by the Via Imperii, a top-secret society that has ruled parts of the world for over two millennia. (Flanderization began in TRR book 3)

Liam: Primary trait is his sense of duty to his kingdom and his people, yet his ability to rule and prevent chaos and upheaval is terrible. He has no competence to match his promises to his kingdom. (Flanderization began in TRH book 2)

Hana: She is still remarkably talented, but the extent of her talents grow to be utterly unrealistic. She also occasionally has instances of incredibly dark or violent dialogue that in no way fit with her character ("I'm sorry Olivia, I only kill when absolutely necessary") that really throw the reader and sometimes even the other characters off. (Flanderization began in TRH book 1)

Drake: Still gruff and jaded and grumpy but to a slightly higher degree. He is also clowned on and made into a meme by his friends and the Cordonian public. (Flanderization began in TRH book 1)

Maxwell: Loud, annoying, obsessed with parties and dancing, clumsy as hell, and almost comically self-absorbed. (Flanderization began in TRR book 2)

Olivia: Much more frequently aggressive, constantly goes on about knives, hidden blades, and spy missions. She is still loyal to king and country, but her personality has been reduced to that of a human weapon. (Flanderization began in TRH book 1)

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txemrn · 1 year

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Déjà Vu

Chapter 2

New? Check out the first chapter HERE! (Go ahead; you're not late. Sure, we can wait.)

Series Summary: After an unforgettable night with a stranger, Princess Eleanor finds herself caught in a secret love triangle between a noble and a commoner.

Chapter Summary: Drake attends dinner at the palace, and even though some things will never change, he discovers quickly everyone has moved on without him.

Pairing(s): Liam x Riley; Bertrand x Savannah; Maxwell x m!OC; Olivia x Amalas

Word Count: ~4885

Warning: 🔞 Mature Audiences Only 🔞 language (like, a lot); references to infidelity, pregnancy; teasing/bullying

~🖤~

Drake

The gentle purr of the engine beneath my grip of the steering wheel shoots pleasurable waves of pure octane ecstasy. My nerves ignite with palpable electricity, coursing through my every cell. The cream leather interior is like butter against my skin, and the scent of luxury leaves me completely intoxicated.

Lucky little shit.

I still can't believe my nephew–my fucking nephew–owns this beauty. How many twenty-four-year-olds own an Aston Martin Vantage convertible? I wish I could give him more shit about it, coming from such privilege as being the oldest son of a duke, but Bartie has more than earned it.

He may not have exactly been planned, but he was the answer, and essentially the savior, of Ramsford. Back when I lived in this God-forsaken country, some twenty-odd years ago, Ramsford was in financial ruin. My brother-in-law, Bertrand, Bartie's father, scraped, scrapped and pinched every monetary morsel to keep them afloat for years.

Then along came Bartie: finished the top of his class at some preppy private institute at Stormholt with a degree in finance, and in just three fucking years of working with his dad… well, that little shit has an Aston.

I'm actually very proud of him. Surely he knows that. We weren't much for talking over the years, but I'd send cards telling him I loved him, and I'd ask about him during video calls with my sister.

Judging that I am sitting in his custom-painted cherry-red luxury car right now? Yeah, Bartie knows I care the world about him. The fact that he's going to allow me to drive it? Fuck, I don't think I even trust myself, especially on these European roadways. Sure, I learned how to drive in Cordonia, but that was over two decades ago. And it wasn't a stickshift.

Can't be that hard, right?

I study the mechanism of the gear shift, comparing it to a quick Google search on my phone as I wait for my nephew to return to the car with a necktie–my suggestion. Afterall, we're heading to dinner with the royal family… A.K.A. my childhood best friend, his daughter. And his wife.

The love of my life.

Eh, don't feel sorry for me. I'm over it. Seriously. And besides, technically, Liam had first dibs on her; but then again, he had first dibs on several other women at the exact same time, social season and all for his highness, the fucking crown prince of Cordonia. Whoop-de-do.

He's the one that asked me to look after his hot American suitor during his own personal season of The Bachelor. Are you really surprised I fell for the chick? The guy was never around. And Riley and me? She... she was fun, smart. She was fucking hilarious, gave those noble bitches a real run for their money. And yet, she was still kind and caring. She was easy to talk to; I found myself opening up to her in ways that… well, no one else could.

Riley Brooks. I guess you could say she's the reason I never settled down with anyone. No one–and I mean no one–ever measured up.

Oh well. That was a long time ago. And she made her decision. Him. And even though he was like the brother I never had, I… I couldn't. I just couldn't sit back and watch them play house and build a life together. Well, for Liam, it was real.

I had fallen for her. But so had Liam. I knew that if I stayed–if I had stayed, the secret of Riley and me wouldn't end. Shit, if it didn’t end after they said, "I do," when would it?

Time heals all wounds, right?

Bartie opens the door, and slides into the passenger seat with two neckties in hand, both black as he holds them up to his crisp white oxford. "What do you think?"

"Think about what? The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost? You look like a fucking mormon," I jest as I point to the one with a subtle matte paisley design. "Why are you fussing about this anyway?"

"Just cause," he passively offers as he stares in the visor mirror, knotting his tie. "I'm speaking with King Liam privately after dinner, and… well, I just want to look alright."

Sensing his raw nerves, I pause for a moment, watching him fidget anxiously with the garment. Jesus, when did my baby nephew become a fucking man? I smile, placing my calloused fingers on his shoulder. "You do, kid." I fasten my seat belt as I turn my attention to the dash. "So, how do I put this thing into drive?"

------

It’s surreal walking into the palace after so many years away. White marble floors. Crimson curtains with gold accents. Childhood memories flood my mind of our sword battles on the grand staircase, pretending to be blood-thirsty pirates. Or when we would gallop through the secret labyrinth of corridors deep within the estate, charging on our make-believe stallions like mighty Spanish conquistadors.

We would always sneak to the kitchen between meals to taste the desserts being made for dinner–unless Ms. Marta was working. That fucking old hag. Most of my ass whoopings were from her tattling on us.

Liam was a fucking weirdo on our kitchen raids. We would slip through the window of the bakehouse, and when we would confirm that the coast was clear, he would always head straight for the pantry to a bag of pistachios. We're talking about a place that had every sweet, every chocolate, every cookie imaginable, readily available in sealed containers. And he chose nuts.

I always had my eyes on a nightly staple in the palace: warm apple pie. They were made daily, and I could always find at least one cooling on the window sill.

Fuck, now I'm salivating over a fucking pie.

To this day, I humbly have to admit that Cordonia apple pies are the best–don't let the taste of a raw ruby fool you. Something about the bitter compounds reaching a certain temperature causes… something-something to do something… ah, hell. Tell you what. If you're that curious, ask Liam. I mean, I'm assuming he's still a nerd–

"Drake!"

I startle at the greeting, instantly recognizing the tall, broad-shouldered blond striding closer to me, wearing… an apron? The fuck? The apron has the phrase, 'I love you a bushel and a peck'.

Oh, yeah. He's still a fucking dweeb.

His outstretched hand takes mine as he shakes it before pulling me into an embrace. "It's so good to see you, old friend," he pats my back before standing back to take me in.

He looks so different, but undoubtedly, he still looks like Liam Rys. Stray pieces of silver litter his perfectly styled, perfectly placed waves. His strong jawline and high cheekbones were cut more razor-sharp by his more mature, thinned face. His strong chest and the swell of his biceps made him look like a fucking Greek god. Lucky bastard. It's like turning forty didn't wreak havoc on his appearance or metabolism, save for a few fine lines around his eyes and smile.

"Bartie," Liam smiles endearingly, "always a pleasure." He extends his arm to my nephew before the scared kid had a chance to bow. I could see the flood of panic in Bartie’s eyes, but I gave him a reassuring nod as he hesitantly took his majesty's hand.

Don't worry, kid. I won't tell your daddy about your ‘poor manners’.

"Please," Liam rests his hand on my shoulder while turning to guide us to the queen's hall, the largest dining area in the palace for private parties. The room boasted an impressive, custom eight-meter-long table that could easily fit twenty-five guests comfortably. "Come, come. Everyone is just being seated." We follow him down the east corridor when suddenly, the savory aroma of roast and… something garlicky teases my senses. Liam obviously caught the delicious waft too, turning back with a devious grin. "I hope you brought some hearty appetites. Riley and I have something special for you tonight."

Riley. Why does the mere mention of her name make me–shit. Get it together, Walker. You're over it.

As expected, my closest friends during my time in Cordonia are all present along with their families. Well, 'friends' might be too strong of a word to use on this crowd. They were nobles and friends of Liam. I was friends with Liam. Ergo, we were friends. Sorta.

My sister Savannah and her husband Bertrand were sitting at the end towards my right, speaking in hushed tones to one another. They came separately from Bartie and myself from their estate since, well, there wasn't enough room for them and the triplets. Yes. You read right. Triplets. As in three babies at once. They had tried for years to have more children with sadly no avail, and it took a terrible toll on their marriage. I still remember Sav's tearful call five years ago, revealing to me that they were separating. I was preparing to hop on a plane to execute my brother-in-law's accidental demise for breaking my little sister's heart when I got a second call a few weeks later. They were pregnant. I got a call a week after that. I had three nieces on the way. Sydnie, Stella and Simone: the cutest little shits you've ever seen… and not just because they have their uncle's dashing good looks.

I'm talking about me, their uncle. Not their other uncle.

Maxwell Beaumont–said other uncle– was sitting next to his brother Bertrand. He officially married Baron Friedrich von Lehndorff twelve years ago when Cordonia overturned their marriage clause of traditional unions. One hundred forty-eight same-gender couples came forward that day to be legally married; Max and Rich led the way to the Capitol. They became a beacon of light and love, not just for Cordonia, but to the world. I remember reading about their march for equality and their victory in my local paper. Maxwell and I weren't necessarily best friends, but a sense of pride bloomed in my chest, seeing him do something so incredible and bold with his life.

He and Rich have a 9-year-old daughter Gia and 4-year-old son Ollie, both adopted from South Korea. Don't tell them I told you, but I follow their TikTok. Those two are fucking adorable.

Across from the Beaumont-von Lehndorffs is the Scarlet Duchess herself. Olivia Nevrakis. And… I almost can't believe the sight myself–

"Hey, Walker!" She waves, a smile growing on her face.

What. The. Fuck. Was she… happy to see me?

She stands up and makes her way around the table of guests to greet me.

With a hug.

Shock number two: she’s touching me in a friendly manner. But that's when I was hit with shock number three.

Is she? No, no… she can't be. Is that a–?

She must've seen the curiosity etching across my face as I stared down at a rounded abdomen that just pressed up against me during our embrace. She instinctively cradles her belly and giggles.

Giggles.

Was I in the Twilight Zone?

She married Amalas a few years after I moved away. I wasn't surprised; the few times Livvy and I hooked up felt odd, like something was missing. I mean, not that I didn't satisfy her. That was never a problem for me with women. Turns out, ol' red was looking for a queen.

Together they serve as queen and queen consort of Monterisso, and apparently are known for creating quite a riot at international events. I'm not surprised. They have four children: Macaela–Amalas’s daughter with her late husband–Josefine, Joaquin, and Joseph. And then baby Timothy will be joining them soon. Because that name makes sense.

I'm starting to feel a little self-conscious. It's been over twenty years, and everyone seems to have grown up. Had families. Changed the world. And what did I have to show? Nothing. I mean, I did have quite a successful construction company that I developed with almost seventy employees under my leadership, but… well, that went under thanks to my business partner fucking me over. Fucking twat-waffle.

But is this really what my life comes down to? Is this how you would sum up my life? Compared to childhood friends, I was still nothing. And here I was again on the coattails of Liam.

An abrupt delicate tink to a wine glass echoes over the various conversations and children squealing, silencing everyone as we turn our attention to the head of the table.

And there she was. Just as breathtaking as the last day that I saw her.

"Drake," she gasps as I pull her into the dark shadows behind the barn. "We can't. Not anymore."

I shake my head, her eyes refusing to meet mine. I took a step towards her, but she instinctively shifts, her back pressing against the wall.

"Brooks–"

"Rys," she interjects, the correction like a serrated blade piercing my skin. A sob escapes her as rivers course down the planes of her velvet skin.

Placing my arm against the splintered wood next to her head, I lean closer to her, capturing her intoxicating scent. My hand slips up her neck, my fingers tenderly lifting her chin to look at me, to captivate me with those ocean eyes.

My thumb caresses her rosy lips, feeling her breath hitch. I flutter my mouth across her wet cheeks, my feather touch kissing away her tears.

But we suddenly freeze.

"Riley?"

Liam's smooth voice carries over the moonlit pasture, drowning out our abilities to hear the bustle of the reception.

"Riley…Don't–"

But it's too late. Before I could stop her, she was gone.

I blink. Casually shifting in my seat, I glance nonchalantly around me. Whew, everyone is still staring at the head of the table. No one seems to notice that I got lost in my thoughts for a moment. I nervously scratch through my stubble before grabbing the water glass in front of me. I take a longass sip of water, but when I pull the glass from my mouth, two crystal-blue orbs with long, flirty lashes are locked on me.

Fuck, I choke on the water on my attempt to swallow it down. I start coughing violently as Maxwell starts patting my back.

"You okay there, Drakey?"

I finally take a gulp of air, and glare at him. "Yes… and it's Drake, Maxi pad." Okay. I admit it. It was childish to retaliate by calling him the name me and some of the other guys called Maxwell growing up. But to my surprise, he laughs before finger-gunning me.

"Good one, Drake. I haven't heard that in years."

I turn back to our royal hosts just in time for Liam to give me a friendly nod, as if to ensure that I'm okay without creating more of a scene. But when I glance over at Riley, she quickly averts her eyes, slipping her hand into Liam's.

Jesus Christ. If that was a sign of how things were going to be, her cowering and treating me like I'm some kind of criminal for something she did willingly… something she pursued… fuck that. Send me back to Texas.

"We brought wine!" Rich singsongs, pulling out two large bottles from a nearby refrigerated wine rack. "Who'd like–?"

I refused to let the poor bastard finish.

"Me."

------

I can't remember a single time in my life where I have been so positively and exuberantly grateful for Maxwell fucking Beaumont. He fended off the anticipated awkwardness and helped the dinner conversation progress, making the casual assist to include me in this special meal that was supposedly in my honor.

I'm not saying the others were rude to me, Liam especially. He was treating me like a long lost brother, like the prodigal son that has finally returned home. And I'm not going to lie: it felt good to be reunited with him.

But Riley couldn't even look me in the eye, and judging by the flashes of guilt and her over-eagerness to leave the room every chance she got, I know she never told her husband the truth about our relationship. He had his suspicions. And I owned up to falling for her, thus the ending of our friendship and me moving to Texas. I mean, I thought it was the end…

But, I didn't just fall for her; it wasn't pining for her from afar, hoping she would give me the time of day.

We were in love.

"This was absolutely divine," Savannah sings praises, taking a sip of her tea. Everyone begins chiming in with their sentiments, thanking the royal couple for the delicious meal. Yes, they prepared it. I know; I was impressed myself.

Individual conversations continue through dessert and coffee when suddenly, the ring of a phone interrupts us into silence.

"Excuse me," Amalas whispers with the phone against her ear, "I need to take this. It's Josie."

Liam and Riley flash looks of concern at one another. "I hope everything is okay," Riley says softly as she twirls her necklace between her fingers, turning to her husband with a more hushed tone. "Did Ellie text you?"

Liam is already looking at his phone, but he's casually shaking his head, appearing more relaxed than his wife. His gaze catches my curious look as I try to put the pieces together of what's going on this evening.

"Josie–err, Josefine–is out with our Eleanor and Madeleine's daughter Bethany this evening."

Ah, that's right… Josefine must go by Josie, Amalas’s second daughter, her first daughter with Olivia. Shit, I can’t keep these spawn straight….

"Crisis averted!" Amalas sweeps back into the room, placing her cell into her pocket. "The girls said the restaurant was too crowded, so they're going over to the Vancoeur's for a–" she imitates an American valley girl, "girls' night."

"Vancoeur?" I mutter, turning to Maxwell. "Did he… reproduce, too?" The idea sounded ridiculous. What woman lowered her standards that low to sleep with that bastard?

"Yep," Maxwell responds, "he has a beautiful daughter." He takes an obnoxious sip of his espresso. "You know, Bethany, the girl that's out with Eleanor and Josie."

No. Fucking. Way.

"I thought Beth was Madeleine's kid?"

"It is." Maxwell chuckles as mischief glows in his eyes. "Oh Drakey, you missed it. Maddie and Neville were actually married for about ten years." Pulling a napkin up to his mouth, he lowers his voice. "Rumor has it she was about to lose what was left of her inheritance, slept with that weasel, then faked a pregnancy to get him to propose." He snickers. "I wish I could've been a fly on the wall when her fake pregnancy turned out to be a real pregnancy."

"What the–?"

"Mhrmm," Maxwell bounces his eyebrows, "she claims she had no idea." He stares at me intently before rolling his eyes and gesturing with his hand a dramatically large curve over his stomach. “Agnes, my seamstress–can you believe she’s still working for us? Well, anyway, that woman can work absolute miracles…” He takes another sip of his drink. He quiets his voice while he averts his eyes, slowly crossing his legs. “There was no hiding that bump.”

I shake my head in disbelief, chuckling under my breath when suddenly, I feel a large hand on my shoulder. I whip around quickly, pulling my body away, when I see–

"Shit, Li–"

"I didn't mean to interrupt," he offers a friendly smile.

I blow away the air I had quickly sucked in, willing my heartbeat to slow down. I guess I'm still a little on edge being here, but fuck, that scared me.

"I thought before you left tonight, we could discuss, um… arrangements. For you."

"Yeah… yeah, of course." Following his lead, we start to make our way to the exit for privacy.

When Liam invited me to Cordonia, he was very specific that he wanted to help me get back on my feet. And I believe him. I know his generosity is genuine; he doesn't have any ulterior motives or some secret vendetta against me from the past. At least I hope he doesn't. But this isn't a vacation for me; part of the deal was I needed to work. I'm not sure if that meant finding temp jobs or something more long-term.

“Do I smell imported cheap whiskey?”

I stop short of the door.

Fuck me. Leo Rys. Liam’s older brother and notorious international womanizer. The man just turned fifty last year, and it’s like he unlocked a new group of admirers, especially now that he’s sportin’ a little silver around the edges these days.

He and Liam are complete polar opposites. Apples and oranges. Night and day. If Liam was thoughtful and selfless… well, you get the gist. And clearly by his entrance, I’m discovering that some things never change.

As if his deep bellow wasn’t warning enough, his black leather boots announce his presence as he struts across the polished tile, his arm hooked around his helmet. He slaps his free hand on my shoulder, squeezing it firmly as he obnoxiously sniffs me.

"Cheap whiskey… and… is that a hint of beef jerky and cow patties I'm detecting?"

"Good to see you, too." Jackass. I slap his chest before pushing him off of me. I may have used a little more force than I should've. My bad.

"Am I late for dinner?" He slaps Liam on the back before walking towards the kitchen.

Liam sighs. "Just… a little–"

"Ahh, don't worry," he stops to kiss Riley on the cheek. "I'll serve myself."

As Leo disappears, Liam and I give each other a knowing look before leaving the room as well.

------

"Trust me, you're going to love what Riley has done with the guest quarters."

Liam and I had a good talk. A really good talk. We didn't have to say it, but it was clear: we missed each other. We missed our camaraderie, the confidence we had in one another. He was the first person I called when Dad died; I was the first person he called when Leo abdicated. We grew up and became men together.

But then Riley Brooks happened… but, I'm guessing you know that by now.

Liam has already a number of jobs for me to sift through, several carefully picked out that would play to my strengths with architecture and construction. But since these jobs were either on the grounds or here locally in the Capitol, he insisted I move into one of the private guest quarters with its own private entrance and balcony.

'You don't need to be making that drive from Ramsford everyday.' He's right. It's quite the journey, not to mention I don't exactly have a vehicle of my own here. So, I'm back in the palace. Ain't life a bitch?

"Now I hope you don't mind all-electric. The gas lines and how they were designed don’t–"

"Beggars can't be choosers, love."

Her words are like ice, the sharp chill making even her husband shudder.

"Riley–"

"What?" She giggles under her breath. "I was joking." She turns a venomous stare towards me. "Drake knows I'm kidding. Don't you, Drake?"

I clear my throat. "Yeah," I play along, "good one."

"Love?" She slips her hand around Liam's arm, lowering her voice into a whisper. "Bartie Beaumont has requested to speak with you privately."

"Oh!" Liam brightens. "Sure. Of course." He gives me a pleasant nod. "Excuse me, Drake. And, please. Feel free to look around." He begins to make his way towards the dining area, Riley following in step behind with no acknowledgement to me.

I breathe a sigh of relief. I needed a moment to myself anyway.

"Actually," Liam turns on his heel, waving a finger in the air. "On second thought, Love?" He smiles lovingly towards Riley, placing his hands affectionately on her shoulders. "How about you go show Drake the renovations you made?"

Shit.

------

Riley barely spoke two words to me besides pointing to the obvious fixtures and control buttons in the guest suite.

Light... Refrigerator… Bathroom…

"This, uh, looks really nice," I try to converse, combing my fingers through my hair. "I never thought I'd see the day this room would have a–"

"We don't have to do this." She walks out of the room and into another part of the suite.

Why was she being such a frigid bitch?

Fuck, I need a smoke.

I take a deep breath, shoving my hands in my pockets as I stroll back out into the hallway of the apartment.

"Is there anything else you needed to see?" She swallows thickly. She tries to remain stoic with a stiff bottom lip. Her jaw ticks… but her glare betrays her as something else brews that I … can’t quite discern.

But then, without warning, Riley's eyes roam down my body, catching on the crotch of my khakis before returning to my face.

Eyes up here, your majesty.

She clears her throat, pretending I didn't just catch her checking me out. "Um, anything else you wanted to see… of the suite, that is? Because, uh, we should probably –" she shuffles backwards, pointing aimlessly behind her, towards the door.

"You go on ahead," I tell her. "I'm gonna check out the balcony if you don't mind."

A heated swirl of rouge ignites on Riley’s cheeks. She nods, turning on her heel quickly without saying a word, and exits the apartment in record time.

Thank God. I don't know what just happened, but… this is a very interesting turn of events. Does she still have feelings for me?

No. Stop.

Shit. Maybe moving in is a mistake.

I make my way outside, and damn. The view from this balcony is stunning. It actually overlooks the Cordonia countryside, which means less lights from the city and plenty of stars to be seen at night. It's... actually a nice reminder of home.

Taking a seat on the balustrade, I pull out a cigarette and nestle it between my teeth as I search for my lighter. I pat my pockets, both in the back and front of my pants before checking my shirt.

Shit. Can the universe just pass me a fucking bone?

I slump over, resting my elbows on my knees. Holding my hands in front of me, I begin to pick at my calluses as the events of the evening replay like a movie reel in my head.

But suddenly, there's a snick, then a spark; then a single flame is held in front of me. Fishing my cigarette out from behind my ear, I fix it between my lips and lean into the fire. I pull heavily, deeply until the familiar burn touches my anxious nerves, and I blow away my initial puff.

"You know smoking can kill you."

I raise an eyebrow at the deep voice, taking another inhale before blowing it in Leo's face.

"Malaka."

I chuckle at his insult, watching that smug grin pull out his own cigarette to light. He leans against the side of the balcony before hoisting himself up onto the balustrade.

"So," he licks his lips, looking at me inquisitively. "How does it feel to be back in lovely Cordonia?"

I look at him, scrunching my face. Really? That's the best you can do? I look back down, flicking some ash on the ground.

"How does it feel–" he blows smoke over his shoulder, "--being back close to Riley?"

My head shot up.

"Ohhh," he snickers, "that got Walker's attention really fast."

How the fuck does Leo know? How the fuck does Leo know anything? I can feel my heart begin to pound, my eyebrows furrowing in anger.

"Now hold up, Walker," he holds up his hands in defense. "I come in peace. I don't care that you fucked my sister-in-law once upon a time… okay, fine. Maybe just a little–"

"What do you want, Leo?" I interrupt, irritation baited in my voice.

He looks down fidgeting with his fingers. When he turns back to me, he has an indiscernible expression on his face, as if a wave of vulnerability is crashing over him.

"I know it can be… challenging, you know? Moving back to Cordonia after a hiatus, and I figured tonight was probably a lot for you."

And now Leo is trying to have a heart-to-heart with me… What the fuck happened to these people while I was gone?

"I thought maybe… you could use a friend."

"Well," I stand up, taking a step away. "Thanks. I appreciate it–"

"I mean it," he holds a hand to his chest. "Say–" he jumps to his feet, sandwiching himself between me and the door. "What are you doing tonight?"

Besides leading the exciting life of letting my nephew drive me back to his parent's house, eating a bag of Doritos in my boxers and getting shit-faced?

"There's a new club opening in town tonight. Tons of people. Who's who. VIP–"

"Thanks, but–" I try to shove past him, but he stops me, putting his hands against my chest.

"Six full bars, and–" he wiggles his eyebrows. "Lots… and lots… of fresh Cordonian-grade pussy. How do you like them apples?"

Like I said, some things never change.

"C’mon, Walker… you in?"

~🖤~

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alj4890 · 11 months

Text

The Promise

(Liam and his daughter, Charlotte) in a Choices: The Royal Heir drabble

Thirty Kisses in Thirty Days Challenge with the prompt: An "I forgive you." Kiss

A/N I've written a few drabbles of Liam marrying Madeleine and having a daughter with her. Those stories have Charlotte grown and beginning to face the pressures of having to choose a suitor. For this drabble though, Charlotte is a little girl trying to adjust to having a father who can't be there whenever she wants.

Rating G: for family fluff

@gkittylove99 @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @twinkleallnight @lodberg @amandablink @neotericthemis @mm2305 @sfb123 @tessa-liam @thesvnsins @krsnlove @busywoman

Masterlist

"Here's another request from the King and Queen of Auvernal, your majesty."

Liam glanced at the documents with forced interest. With Madeleine out of the country visiting many of their allies, he was left to deal with the day to day operations of being King of Cordonia. He'd had more than the usual needs brought to his attention and without his capable queen here to divide the work, he was on his own bearing the full weight of the crown.

"Just set them over there, Galani." He gestured over to a nearby table.

His secretary did as requested. He then cleared his throat to get his king's attention again.

Liam quirked an eyebrow in question.

"You have someone wishing to speak with you, sir."

"Ask them to make an appointment." Liam pointed at his cluttered desk. "I don't have time today to see anyone."

"It's Princess Charlotte, sir."

Liam slumped back in his chair. Other than seeing her at breakfast and tucking her into bed at night, he'd been too busy to spend special time with his daughter. He knew that her visit to his study in the middle of the morning meant that he'd been neglecting her.

"Send her in."

Galani smiled as he opened the door.

Liam felt his spirits lift the moment he saw his seven year old. Charlotte's shy smile was directed first at his secretary bowing to her and then at him.

He got up and came around his desk to crouch down before her.

"How's my princess?" He asked.

"Good." She kept her hands behind her back. "I have a surprise for you."

"You do?" Liam found himself smiling for the first time today. "That is very thoughtful of you."

Charlotte produced a picture she'd drawn.

"My goodness!" Liam pretended to be astounded. "Where did you buy this work of art?"

His daughter giggled. "I didn't buy it, Father!'

"You didn't?" He leaned closer, eyes darting around the room, before whispering, "did you steal it from a museum?"

Her giggles grew louder as she shook her head.

"Then where on earth did you acquire this?"

"I made it!" She announced.

"No!" He gasped. "I knew you were talented, but I had no idea you were at this level."

Charlotte beamed at him. She stepped closer and pointed out the two figures in her drawing.

"That's you and that's me." She told him.

"A perfect likeness." Liam wrapped his arm around her, squeezing her in a side hug. "I see we are at the beach."

"On one of our special walks." She added. "See! There's the pink shells we always try to find."

Charlotte looked at him with a hopeful expression on her little face. "Could we go there today?"

Liam's smile slowly fell. "I'm sorry, dearest, but I'm very busy today."

"Oh."

Charlotte's eyes filled with tears.

Liam couldn't stand to see her unhappy. Scooping her in his arms, he hugged her close.

"We'll make time for a walk another day."

"Yes sir." She mumbled with a sniff.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head then set her down.

"One day soon, you'll be working in here with me and your mother." He told her, hoping that might make her smile again.

Charlotte merely nodded.

"Tell you what." He tried to cajole a smile from her. "How about I try and finish work early enough so that we can have dinner together this evening?"

She nodded, her face scrunched with trying not to cry.

Liam felt his spirits plummet once more.

"Dearest," he began, "we',ll--"

"Princess Charlotte!" Nanny Ferguson burst into the room. "Oh! Forgive me, your majesty. The princess and I were in the library earlier and she must have decided to come see you."

Charlotte colored some. "I'm sorry Nanny. I didn't mean to make you worry. I just didn't want to wait on giving Father his picture."

Her middle aged nanny chuckled warmly. "I understand, your highness."

She knelt down before the little girl. "I never could wait to see my father either when I was your age."

With his brow furrowed, Liam watched his daughter take her caretaker's hand and leave. He could remember all the times in his life where he wanted a moment of his father's attention, only to be told that the needs of Cordonia must come before his own.

Didn't I want to be a different man than my father was? Madeleine and I swore when we had Charlotte that we would not mimic our parents' neglectful ways. Am I doing the very thing I never wanted to do?

"Sir," Galani interrupted his thoughts. "The phone conference with Queen Amalas is ready to begin."

"Right." He glanced down at the colorful drawing in his hands. "Thank you, Galani."

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

"Princess?" Nanny Ferguson called out. "Shall I have the staff prepare your lunch?"

Charlotte looked up from her dollhouse.

"Yes mam." She mumbled with a resigned sigh.

The crown princess missed her parents. Usually if one was busy, the other made certain to spend special time with her. Her mother had been gone for over a week and her father hadn't been able to get away from his duty.

Her nose wrinkled over that word. She still wasn't quite certain what their duty to Cordonia was. She only knew that whatever it was, it kept her from time alone with her parents.

"I hope I'm not interrupting."

Charlotte looked up in surprise to see her father poking his head into the nursery.

"Not at all, your majesty." Nanny reassured him. "The princess and I were just discussing having lunch sent up."

"I see." Liam stepped inside. He winked over at his daughter. "Nanny, might I steal Charlotte away." He cleared his throat. "It's for Crown business."

"Yes, of course." She responded. "I shall have her ready after lunch."

"I'm afraid time is of the essence." He stalked over and picked Charlotte up. "We must depart immediately."

"But, your majesty, when will--"

"No time!" He said, hurrying out the door. "I'll have her back in time for dinner."

Liam slipped through a hidden panel further down the hall which hid a staircase, set Charlotte down, and took her hand.

"Where are we going?" She whispered, knowing this stairwell was only meant to be used in emergencies.

"To the beach." He whispered back. "I escaped my duties and decided to take you with me."

"We're going to the beach?!" She covered her mouth after her excited outburst.

Liam chuckled. "We are. Your drawing made me want to spend some time there with you."

Charlotte threw her arms around his waist and hugged him tight.

Taking her hand, he led her down the stairs and out to a waiting car.

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

"We get to have a picnic too?" Charlotte's eyes widened at the large basket Bastien handed Liam.

"Of course." He smiled down at her. "You didn't think I would forget to bring all our favorite treats for our outing did you?"

"No sir." She replied taking his hand once more.

"Enjoy yourselves." Bastien called out.

"We will!" Charlotte replied.

Liam set up their picnic then gestured for Charlotte to dig through the basket for them.

"Father!" She gasped. "There's no sandwiches!"

"There's not?" He leaned over to peek into it. "That's odd. I could've sworn I packed some."

Charlotte giggled as he grumbled about his memory failing him once more.

"I guess then we are stuck with nothing but treats to eat." He pulled out pieces of vanilla cake. "We'll try and find something more sandwich like on the way back."

She settled next to his side and took a dainty bite. Her eyes closed over the sweet taste of the vanilla frosting.

"Good?" He asked, taking a bite of his own.

"Ummhmm." She said while swallowing a mouthful of cake. "Vanilla is my favorite!"

"Mine too." He added.

"This is the best lunch ever."

Liam smiled at her. "Because of the cake?"

She shook her head. "Because it's me and you at the beach."

"Ah, so it's the location that makes it the best."

"Not that!" She giggled. "Nanny brought me here a few days ago and it wasn't the best."

"No? And why wasn't it?"

"Because you were too busy to come along." She told him.

Liam wrapped his arm around her and set his plate down.

"Dearest," he said softly. "I'm sorry I've been so busy recently."

"You're king." She reminded him. "Mother said that there will be times you can't be with me because of your duty."

"That's true." He hugged her close to his side. "But you are and will always be more important than my duty to Cordonia. Everything I do is for you. I know, as king, I should say it is for our country, but ultimately, you are the only one I'm thinking of with every decision I make."

Charlotte listened quietly.

"I want you to remember that every time it seems that I'm too busy. I also want you to know that it doesn't matter how many hours I work for the Crown, I will always find time for you."

He smoothed her blonde hair back behind her ear that had escaped her ponytail.

"Can you forgive me, princess?"

Charlotte stood up and placed a kiss on Liam's forehead.

He realized she was mimicking his actions whenever she was sad or hurt.

"I forgive you." She said in her sweet, little voice.

Charlotte sat back down to finish eating her cake.

Liam pulled out some more vanilla goodies along with a dish of fruit. He felt more relaxed in this moment than he had all week.

"After we finish, why don't we see if we can find a pretty shell to add to your collection?"

"And one to surprise Mother with?" She added.

"Of course."

Liam smiled over seeing the return of her sunny personality. He didn't want to miss out on anymore special moments with her. She was already growing into a little lady. Her manners and the way she spoke showed how fast the years were slipping away from him. He couldn't let there come a day where the only memories he was left with were those of regret.

No matter what was demanded of his time, he would do all he could to never make Charlotte sad again.

#thirty kisses in thirty days #choices king liam #choices the royal heir #choices the stories you play

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