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justcallmefox89 · 2 months

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Cinderfella's Adventures in Cordonia - Chapter Twenty

An AU of The Royal Romance with a male MC and a bisexual prince.

Masterlist

Drake and Liam learn more about Callum's past.

“What’s going on, Pops?” Callum asks again.

“You’re back earlier than I expected,” Niall answers, shooting a dirty look at Donny.

The blonde man shrugs nonchalantly, taking a pack of cigarettes from his jack pocket and tapping it against the palm of his hand.

“Yeah… turns out there wasn’t a problem at the club after all.” Callum narrows his eyes at his father.

Niall innocently widens his eyes. “I must have misunderstood.”

“Then you just mistakenly let yourself into my apartment while I was out?”

“I do own the building, Callum,” Niall sniffs. “Technically I can go into any apartment I want to, with or without your permission.”

Donny lets out a slightly breathy and panicked, “Oh shit.”

Drake’s eyes bounce back and forth between the men like ping-pong balls and Liam sits rigidly next to him, tension evident in every line of his body.

“That’s how we’re going to do this? Seriously, Pops? You didn’t try that line on me when I was sixteen but you’re doing it now?”

“You had better sense at sixteen,” Niall snaps. “Back then you weren’t jumping at the chance to ruin your life every time a hot piece of ass smiled at you.”

“I need a smoke,” Donny suddenly announces loudly. He points at Liam and Drake. “You two. Come with me.”

Confused, Liam blurts out, “We don’t smoke.”

“You can hold my lighter,” Donny replies, tugging the pair to their feet.

Ioan rises from his chair. “I think I’ll join you -”

“You better keep your ass in that chair, old man,” Callum grinds out between clenched teeth.

Stunned at his grandson’s tone, Ioan plops back into his seat, and Donny seizes the opportunity to hustle Drake and Liam out onto the balcony. He manages to slam the sliding glass door closed just as the shouting starts.

“What the actual FUCK were you two thinking?” Callum yells.

Donny lights a cigarette and inhales deeply, letting the pale grey smoke slowly curl out of his nostrils. “I hope the two of you are pleased with yourselves.”

“Us?” Liam gapes, pointing between himself and Drake. “You think this is our fault?”

“Isn’t it?” He takes another drag. “Callum was fine, happy again. You two are back in his life less than three days and him and his father are at each other’s throats with Ioan snapping at their heels.”

Liam’s cheeks flush and he scowls. “The MacKenzie family’s dysfunction has nothing to do with us.”

“It has everything to do with you, cupcake.”

Drake braces his forearms on the railing that runs around the perimeter of the balcony. “I didn’t mean for anything like this to happen. I never wanted to cause Callum any problems.”

He sounds so miserable that Donny takes pity on him. “I know you didn’t mean to, kid. But goddamn… why couldn’t you just stay away?”

The voices from the living room get louder and the three men wince in unison.

“He’s going back with you,” Donny says, flicking his cigarette butt onto the ground and crushing it with the toe of his boot.

Liam sighs. “He hasn’t made a decision one way or the other yet.”

“I know my son. He’ll go.”

Drake and Liam exchange startled looks.

Donny chuckles at their shocked expressions. “I’ve been raising that boy for nearly thirty years, and I’ve been with Niall for almost as long. Callum’s my son.”

“We didn’t realize…” Drake trails off, embarrassed.

“Did Callum ever tell you about his mother?”

“From the way he phrased it I assumed she died when he was very young,” Liam says slowly.

Donny barks out a harsh laugh. “Fuck. That woman will still be alive when there’s only cockroaches roaming the earth.”

Drake’s mouth drops open and Liam frowns uncomfortably.

Taking in their shocked expressions Donny sighs and lights another cigarette. “That was probably unfair to Cassie. We’ve always had a… complicated relationship.”

“So his mom is alive?” Drake asks.

Donny shrugs. “He’s never met her. She showed up once when he graduated high school. Niall almost had an aneurysm. She futzed around a bit, said she wanted to finally meet her son. But in the end she did what she always does and disappeared before anything could happen. Thank god we didn’t tell the kid anything and get his hopes up.”

“How did… How long… um…” Liam flounders, unable to articulate the potentially offensive question.

“You wanna know how I fit in to all this?” Donny grins around the cigarette in his mouth.

Drake and Liam nod in unison.

“I met Niall when I started working for Ioan, back when the old man was still running everything. I was young, stupid, pissed at the world. Dishonorably discharged from the military. At the beginning I was just supposed to be muscle at a few of the different strip joints, but for whatever reason Ioan took me under his wing. Brought me into his home, started teaching me about the business.”

“Is that when you started dating?” Liam asks.

Donny laughs and rolls his eyes. “Fuck no. Back then there was no telling me I was anything but straight. But we got to be friends and if I had the occasional thought about how good his ass looked then I would just ignore it. I knew Niall batted for both teams and it never bothered me… but back then I just wasn’t ready to accept certain things about myself, you know?”

“Oh, I know.” Drake gives Liam a slightly dirty look from the corner of his eye and the king’s cheek flush a soft pink.

“Anyway, one night we’re out with some of our other friends doing a bar crawl and we wind up at this dive that has live music.” Donny stubs out his cigarette on the balcony railing. “Cassie’s band was playing that night. I hate to say anything nice about the woman but she’s a fuckin’ stunner and goddamn talented to boot. Long story short Niall starts chattin’ her up after her band has finished for the night and they start seein’ each other. This goes one for a few months, and Niall and I started drifting apart a little. I didn’t really understand it then, but looking back I was jealous of Cassie and seeing them together… hurt.”

“I get that,” Drake murmurs softly, looking down at his feet. With a sad smile, Liam silently reaches out and takes his hand.

“So after they’ve been together a few months Niall gets picked up on some charges related to uh… a few substances that were being sold out of a few of the clubs. Gets sentenced to five to ten. Cassie disappears.” Donny rolls his eyes. “Me and Ioan weren’t all that surprised, she was never all that serious about Niall and it’s hard enough being in a relationship with somebody on the inside when you’re committed.�� We moved on thinkin’ she was gone for good. Niall being locked up was hell on the old man, and I wasn’t taking it much better, but we were doing the best we could. Then about eight months into Niall’s sentence, I get a phone call from Cassie.”

Drake and Liam lean forward, drawn in by the older man’s story.

“So it’s two in the morning, and I’ve got this chick I can’t stand calling me at the club I was working at that night. I was ready to tell her to piss off, but she starts crying, telling me she’s at the hospital and I’m the only one she can call for help. And me being a total fucking sucker I went to the hospital because I knew that’s what Niall would’ve wanted. I show up and she’s in a hospital room, lying in bed, holding a fucking baby of all things.”

“Callum,” Liam says quietly.

“Bingo.” Donny shoots a pair of finger guns towards him. “At first I didn’t know what the hell to think. Honestly I just wanted to leave her there and pretend I never saw a thing. She breaks down crying again, saying she doesn’t know what to do, didn’t know who to call since Niall’s in prison, she’s scared of Ioan, she needs help, and on and on.”

“Wait, why was she scared of Ioan?” Drake asks.

“You’ve met the old man, yeah? Are you scared of him now?”

Without hesitation Drake and Liam both nod.

“Now imagine him thirty years ago and pretend you’ve been hiding the fact that you were pregnant with his only son’s child.”

The pair shudder.

Donny nods. “Exactly. I didn’t know what the fuck to do anymore than she did, and I told her so. She begged me to stay with her just a little while, asks me to hold the kid so she could take a shower and get some things situated with the hospital. I didn’t have the heart to say no. I mean, the poor girl had been alone in the hospital with a brand new baby for three days at that point, I figured that was the least I could do for her. So she gives me the kid, just this squishy little thing, and I settle down with him while she goes to clean up. He was the cutest fucking thing, all fuckin’ chubby baby rolls and this thick, curly black hair. I didn’t mean to but as some point I fell asleep holding him. Next thing I know, Callum is screaming his lungs out and I got a pissed off nurse shaking me awake asking me where Cassie was.”

“And where was Cassie?” Liam asked.

“Fuck if I know. As soon as I fell asleep she grabbed her shit and got the hell out of dodge.”

“She just left her baby with you? Without telling you where she was going? She didn’t even really know you!” Drake exclaims.

“I feel like we’ve already established she’s not a good mom, kid.” Donny gives him an exasperated look. “So I’ve got Callum, fresh out of the oven, Niall’s locked up, and I don’t have the first fucking clue how to find Cassie. I’m only 28, living in a shitty apartment, spending nearly all my free time drunk, high, or both.”

Drake starts to speak, hesitates, then powers on. “Why didn’t you just call Ioan and let him take care of it?”

“Siobhan, Callum’s grandma, was fighting a losing battle with breast cancer. Ioan wasn’t handling it well… didn’t seem fair to add something else to the bullshit he was dealing with. He wasn’t in the best headspace then anyway. Siobhan was the only thing he cared about, only thing he could focus on. Even if I wanted to let him have Callum I don’t think he would’ve been able to take care of him. So I told the hospital I was Callum’s father, signed the birth certificate and everything. Cassie hadn’t even named the kid yet, so I had to do that too.”

“You named Callum?” Liam arches an eyebrow in question.

Donny’s cheeks turn pink and he squirms in place, an oddly endearing gesture for a man in his fifties. “I knew Niall would want to honor his dad in some way, so the middle name was easy. Then I just thought about what name I’d want to use if Niall and I would ever… you know,” he mumbles.

Liam and Drake share a conspiratorial smirk. “That’s adorable,” Liam says.

Donny coughs, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Anyways. The nurses gave me a crash course in fatherhood then shoved me out the door. I waited a few days before I told Ioan and Siobhan… I wanted some time to think on what I was going to do. I brought Callum to their house, told them everything that happened, and said I wanted to take care of Callum until Niall got out. Siobhan wasn’t on board at first, and I don’t blame her. I was young and stupid, never taken care of a baby before, didn’t know a damn thing about kids. But for whatever reason, I knew I was meant to protect that baby. Ioan was relieved, in a way, I think. God only knows why but he trusted me with his grandson, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay him for that.”

“What did Niall have to say about everything when he found out?” Drake asks.

“Oh he was pissed,” Donny laughs. “He would’ve taken care of Cassie if she’d told him she was pregnant, made sure she had everything she needed. But the fact that she just abandoned Callum without a word was the thing that really rustled his jimmies. He would’ve forgiven anything else but that I think.”

“How did that work though?” Liam asks delicately. “With Niall being… indisposed?”

“You can say he was in prison, Your Majesty.” Donny smirks. “Niall didn’t want Callum to see him in that place, so they didn’t actually properly meet until Callum was six. Niall wrote letters every week, and I read them to him. Things got a little more complicated when Callum started to talk and then he had a whole lot of questions. I always made sure he knew that Niall was his dad, but I never let him forget just how much I loved him too. The adjustment period after Niall got out was rough on all of us. Callum didn’t want to leave me, and Niall didn’t want to be away from his son. Understandably. So Niall got a bigger apartment and Callum and I moved in with him.”

“So is that when you and Niall got together?”

Donny grins at Drake question. “Not quite. By that time I had pulled my head out of my ass enough to realize that I wasn’t quite as straight as I wanted to believe. It was a couple more years before Niall and I got into a proper relationship. But that is a story for another time.”

Donny sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “Look, at the end of the day Callum is going to do whatever he wants to do… no matter what me, Niall, or Ioan have to say about it. Just… just take care of my boy, ok? Try not to hurt him any more than you absolutely have to.”

“I don’t… I never want to hurt Callum,” Liam protests.

“Are you still going to marry that girl you’re engaged to?”

Liam stay silent, anxiously gnawing on his lower lip.

“Then he’s going to be hurt,” Donny replies with a sad smile. He looks through the sliding glass door into the living room, frowning. “Shit.”

Drake and Liam whip around just in time to see Niall glare up at his son one last time before stalking out the front door, Ioan following closely behind him. Callum tips his head back and his shoulders slump, but he quickly collects himself and moves into the kitchen.

“That went about as well as I thought it would,” Donny sighs. “Give me a few minutes.”

Drake and Liam wait out on the balcony while Donny says goodbye to Callum.

“We’re being selfish,” Drake says eventually.

Liam glances over at him. “Excuse me?”

“We have royally fucked up Callum’s life.”

“I see what you did there.” The Cordonia king smirks over at his friend.

Drake shoves him away half-heartedly. “Stop. I’m being serious. I wasn’t thinking about Callum when I dragged him back into this. Not the way I should have.”

“I don’t understand.”

“When we got to New York all I was focused on was finding Callum again because I missed him. Because I wanted to remind you that you could actually be with someone you loved instead of Madeline. I didn’t think about what would happen to his life, how all of us being back together would affect him.”

“Considering how close the two of you have gotten I wouldn’t say our returning presence has been all bad.”

Drake blushes furiously. “I... That’s not… Liam!”

“Just saying.” Liam shrugs innocently.

“What I meant was that I only considered how having Callum back would make our lives better, make us happier. I didn’t even stop to think about what that would mean for his life here… with his family, and his job, and his other friends. How can we ask him to leave all that for us again? Especially when you’re still going through with the wedding to Madeline.”

Liam groans. “Why do we keep having to go over this? I have a duty, an obligation to Cordonia. That doesn’t mean we can’t be together. All three of us.”

“This!” Drake smacks Liam’s chest. “This right here is the problem! Callum won’t be happy just being your affair on the side.”

“And you will be?” Liam challenges.

“Of course I won’t! But if that’s the price I have to pay to be with you again I will. Callum can’t do that though.”

Liam scowls. “Can’t or won’t?”

“That’s not fair,” Drake sighs.

“What Callum’s asking isn’t fair either.”

“Callum actually isn’t asking you to do anything,” Drake points out. “He only told you what he was willing and not willing to do given the circumstances.”

Liam falls silent, unable to come up with a reasonable counter argument. The pair stare out at the bustling city streets for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.

Drake is the first one to break the silence. “Liam, what are we going to do?”

@superharriet

@angelasscribbles

@kingliam2019

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sfb123 · 1 year

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Christmas in Cordonia - Part 2

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Catch up here.

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Summary: Liam and Riley celebrate Eleanor's first Christmas.

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,192

I am participating in @choicesflashfics holiday prompts. The prompt What's wrong? Do you not like your gift? will appear in bold below.

A/N: Thank you @txemrn, as always, for pre-reading!

“His majesty King Liam, her majesty Queen Riley, and her highness Princess Eleanor,” the herald announced as the ballroom doors opened.

Liam and Riley entered the room arm-in-arm with Riley carrying Eleanor on her opposite hip. The young princess took in the crowd that was clapping for her, and she began giggling and clapping back much to the delight of the attendees.

The royal family walked across the dancefloor to the stage. Liam stepped up first, extending his hand to guide Riley up the steps. They stood for a few moments posing for photos before Liam stepped up to the microphone.

“Good evening, everyone,” he began, “I would like to thank you for celebrating with us tonight.” Liam paused, turning to Riley and smiling when he saw Eleanor nestled into the crook of her neck. “This is certainly a milestone holiday for Cordonia, but most importantly, for my queen and myself as we celebrate Princess Eleanor’s first Christmas.

“It has been a difficult year, faced with many challenges. But we have come together as a country, and now we are stronger than ever.” The crowd applauded, and Liam stepped away from the microphone, signaling for Riley to step up.

“Tonight is not about treaties, or policies, or politics,” the queen began. “There will be plenty of time for all of that in the new year. Tonight we invite you to eat, drink, dance, and be merry. With that being said,” She continued. “I would like to invite my husband to join me in opening the dance floor for the evening.”

Riley stepped to the side of the stage where Regina was standing and handed Eleanor off to her. She then turned to her husband, taking his hand. The two stepped off the stage and into the center of the dancefloor. Once they had taken their positions, the band started playing “White Christmas”, and they began moving across the floor as the members of court looked on.

“You were perfect up there,” Liam beamed.

“I learn from the best,” she smirked at him, and he chuckled, pulling her closer.

As the evening progressed, everyone seemed to be having a great time. The atmosphere was much more laid back than a typical royal function, which is exactly what Liam and Riley had hoped for. When Riley first came to Cordonia, events like this were very rigid and formal. They still were, for the most part, but for Christmas, she wanted everyone to just relax and enjoy each other's company.

Riley used to spend Christmas Eve at her aunt’s house. It would be packed full of friends and family, and it was her favorite night of the year. They would all sit around laughing, eating, and telling stories. She knew that it wasn’t going to be exactly the same here, but she wanted to bring a little of that at-home Christmas spirit to the Cordonian court.

After making their rounds and sharing a few more dances, Liam and Riley invited their guests to sit down for dinner. As the first course was served, the ballroom doors flew open, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“Merry Christmas, Cordonia!” The former crown prince announced as he entered the room. He was clad in his full royal regalia, and donned a headband that dangled a sprig of mistletoe over his head.

“Leo?” Liam said in disbelief, as he stood from his seat. “What are you doing here?”

“What’s wrong? Do you not like your gift?” Leo jested as he approached his brother, extending his arms out for a hug.

Liam stepped forward, embracing his brother. “No, it’s perfect. I just didn’t expect to see you. I thought you were traveling.”

“I was,” he clapped Liam on his back before pulling away. “But I decided to surprise you. Besides, I couldn’t miss my niece’s first Christmas.”

Leo leaned down to Eleanor’s high chair, lifting her out and kissing her cheek. “First rule of Christmas, El, this is mistletoe.” He pointed to the small plant suspended over his head. “If you’re under it, you’re getting kissed.” He peppered kisses all over her face as she giggled in delight.

Once Leo had said the rest of his greetings, he settled into the newly set place beside his brother, and everyone tucked into their meals.

As the last of the plates were cleared, the guests began pairing up and making their way to the dance floor.

“Whelp,” Leo began as he stood from his seat. “I think it’s time to work off that meal by dancing with my favorite sister.” He bowed to Riley, who was still seated beside Liam.

Riley rolled her eyes as she took his hand. “Leo, I’m your only sister.”

“Semantics.” He shrugged before leading her out to the dance floor.

Riley and Leo glided effortlessly across the floor. “Look at that, you’ve still got it.”

“Pfft… it’s like riding a bike,” Leo said as he led her into a spin. “So, how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine. This royal function stuff is all old hat at this point.”

“Ri, that’s not what I meant,” Leo responded, dipping Riley with a flourish. “Liam mentioned you’ve been missing your family. I know you’re close with them.”

“Yeah,” Riley sighed. “I mean, I have to be okay, right? Besides, I’ve got my Cordonian family. It’s my daughter’s first Christmas. I’m not going to ruin that by being all Grinchey.”

Leo laughed, and twirled his sister-in-law once more. “That’s too bad; you look good in green.”

The pair turned their attention when they heard a throat clearing behind them.

“May I cut in?” Liam asked, smiling at his wife.

“Aww… little brother, I thought you’d never ask!” He stepped away from Riley and took Liam’s hand. “I’ll lead.”

Riley burst out laughing as Liam slapped his brother’s hands away. “Would you get off of me! I want to dance with my wife.”

Leo sighed playfully. “Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.” He said as he wiped away a fake tear. “Excuse me while I go drink my pain.”

Liam chuckled as he pulled Riley close. “I’m glad Leo was able to make it for Christmas.”

“Me too.” She smiled up at her husband.

He could see the sadness in her eyes. “Riley…”

She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over, and shook her head quickly. “It’s fine, I’m good.” She looked around the room before looking back to Liam. “Hey, did you lose our kid?”

Liam leaned down, kissing her on the nose. “Nope.” His lips moved to hers, kissing her again. “Savannah was bringing Bartie up to the sitter, so I asked her to bring Eleanor as well.”

He smirked when Riley’s brow lifted in curiosity. “I thought we might be able to slip out for a bit,” he said, as his hand traced her curves, landing on the small of her back. “Perhaps take an evening stroll through the maze?”

“Would it be a true royal function if we didn’t?” She smiled.

Liam leaned down, kissing her softly on her lips once more. “True.” He leaned in close, his breath tickling her ear. “Follow my lead.”

“Yes, my king.”

*****

Permatag:

@3pawandme @busywoman @cariantha @charlotteg234 @choicesficwriterscreations @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @emkay512 @foreverethereal123 @gryffindordaughterofathena @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @i-am-only-here-for-sims-cc @imashybish @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @nikirennie87 @princessleac1 @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @secretaryunpaid @sincerelyella @theroyalheirshadowhunter @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @txemrn

TRR:

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

Liam:

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

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ao719 · 4 months

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What's Already Mine

A/N: This is a part of my Us Again series. Submission for @choicesflashfics using prompt #2. Not beta’d. Please excuse any errors.

Title Inspiration: Already Mine - Us The Duo

Book/Pairing: TRR; Liam x MC (Katherine)

Rating: G • Warnings: None.

Word count: 2500

Catch up here

Both my suit jacket and arm are draped over Katherine’s shoulders as we walk back towards the hotel from her old bar where I found her.

We’ve walked in silence for a few blocks and it’s deafening despite the bustling city around us. We’ve seemed to have only a silent understanding of the situation; neither of us has said a word.

My mind is too muddled to speak. I don’t know what to say because there’s so much to be said but nothing all at once. I don’t want to ask if she’s alright because obviously she isn’t. I don’t need to ask what’s wrong because I know. I know why she was there. I know why she broke down when she saw me.

Despite knowing, I don’t know what to say … and I hate myself for it.

I glance down at her when I hear a sniffle; she’s staring at the ground as she walks holding my jacket securely around herself. I watch her hand poke up from beneath the lapels to wipe a tear from her cheek and I feel my heart break a little more.

I want to tell her it’s ok, that it’ll be ok, that we’ll be ok. I want her to tell me the same. But I know that neither of us can say that right now with certainty.

So we continue to walk … in silence.

****

Once back at the hotel, Katherine and I step inside our suite. I shut the door behind me and start to follow her as she walks into the bedroom; now that my arm isn’t around her, I notice that she’s a little wobbly on her feet thanks to her slightly tipsy state. She didn’t have much to drink, only a couple of glasses of wine at the gala, and based on the tab I paid at the bar before leading her out, I’d surmise no more than two drinks there, but I know she’s barely eaten anything today which is doing her no favors and she’s always been a bit of a lightweight as it is.

When I enter the bedroom steps after Katherine, I see her draping my suit jacket on a chair. She then reaches back, attempting to grab the zipper of her gown, but she can’t quite reach it. When she becomes frustrated, evident by the small huffs of breath she keeps releasing, I step up behind her and gently cover my hand with hers. She goes completely still. After a moment, she glances over her shoulder; her eyes are rimmed red and still misty when she meets my gaze. I give a soft nod, and she slowly lowers her hand as she looks straight ahead again.

As I lower the zipper of her gown, I let my thumb graze her spine, and I swallow thickly. When was the last time I touched my wife like this? The last time that my fingers brushed against her bare skin? I think back … it’s been a year. We were in Ramsford for the Beaumont Bash and we both had a lot to drink that night. I vaguely remember stumbling into our room, my hands tugging at the fabric of her dress and her arms wrapping around my neck as I kicked the door shut. Before that night, it had been months since we’d last been intimate, and before that, even more months. When we woke the next morning, we showered and dressed without a word, and when we arrived back at the palace, she went to the east wing while I headed to my study. It was awkward in a way and treated like it never happened. I think that’s when the deteriorating state of our marriage started to slowly consume my thoughts.

Once her zipper is lowered enough, Katherine takes a step away and turns to face me, holding the front of her gown against her chest so it doesn’t fall. I slip my hands into my pockets to stop myself from reaching for her because I don’t know if that’s something I’m allowed to do anymore. We stare at one another, and my eyes are silently pleading with her. Talk to me. Please. Talk. To. Me. I can swear I see a similar plea in her own eyes. I open my mouth to speak but quickly snap it shut because I still have no idea what to say.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“Of course,” I nod in reply. After staring at me almost expectantly, she lets out a soft breath and turns. “Katherine, I …”

She stops and looks back at me; I see a flicker of something … of what I think is hope mixed with desperation and worry. “Yeah …?”

I hold my breath and her gaze for a moment before shaking my head. “Nothing …”

Her breath subtly hitches in her throat as she drops my gaze and nods. When she disappears into the bathroom, I hang my head, squeezing my eyes shut in disappointment.

Disappointment with myself, where we are, and my inability to grasp how to fix it.

I begin to loosen my tie, but I freeze as my eyes shift to the bathroom door when I swear I hear a muffled cry from behind it.

Where did it go? The love I once knew? It’s lost in the dark The light can’t shine through Where did we go? I can’t see it now I’m fighting the night To find you somehow…

*******

My fingers are steepled over my lips as I stare out the window of my study. My mind is in the same place as it has been for the past week since returning home: my marriage. Hell, my mind was here before our trip, but now, it’s all I can think about morning, noon, and night.

Katherine and I have yet to speak about what happened in New York. The morning after finding her in the bar, we sat through a silent breakfast followed by a few appearances that were scheduled before heading to the airport for our flight home. On the jet, I almost said something but decided against trying to have that conversation 35,000 feet in the air with no escape if we needed one.

In hindsight … maybe that wouldn’t have been the worst idea.

Since we’ve returned home, things have gone back to exactly how they’ve been. I work through the day and go to the east wing for our nighttime routine with the children. But instead of leaving the moment they go to sleep to go back to my study or the west wing … I’ve lingered. I think she believes I’m just waiting to be sure the children are asleep before slipping out, not realizing I’m there for her. I’m trying to give myself the courage to bring it up, but I find an excuse every damn time. It’s not good timing. It’s late. The kids are there. Whatever my mind can conjure up, it does. My fight or flight has turned to strictly flight; I flee every time. And either she’s having the same thoughts and coming up with the same excuses to not bring it up herself … or she’s completely given up, which after what happened in New York, it’s plausible.

The bottom line is this: I know we’ve reached our limit. I know, one way or another, a very difficult conversation is eventually coming.

At this point, it’s inevitable … and it fucking terrifies me.

I’m so lost in thought that I don’t even register the knock on my study door. It’s not until I feel a shove against my arm and hear my name that I finally snap out of it and glance up to see Drake staring at me questioningly.

“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head as I straighten in my chair. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“No shit,” Drake playfully scoffs. “I knocked a few times … called your name when I came inside, but you were zoned out.”

I release a breath and nod, rubbing my eyes with the pads of my fingers. “Yeah … sorry. It’s been a long week.” I blink a few times to focus my vision and when I do, I see Drake now sitting across from me. His arms are folded across his chest and his brow is arched. “What?”

“Seriously, Li … what’s been going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve caught you like this over the last few months. You seem like you have a lot more than just the stress of running a kingdom on your mind.”

I look away, unable to hold his gaze. Neither Katherine nor I have ever mentioned anything to our friends pertaining to the state of our marriage. We’ve put on the same show in front of them that we have in front of everyone else.

“Liam … talk to me.”

I look at my best friend again, trying to rein in the sadness I feel. If I can’t talk to Katherine, maybe talking to someone will help. I clasp my hands together and lean forward against my desk as I let out a heavy sigh.

And I end up breaking down as I tell him everything.

Drake listens without interruption, but he doesn’t hide the surprise in his expression. When I finish, I can see him still trying to process everything I’ve just told him.

“I never would have guessed … any of that,” Drake finally says.

“We’re good at hiding it,” I say. Too good. “It’s just … it’s become our norm. It’s like second nature now … putting on the front.”

“Why haven’t you guys ever said anything?”

I can hear the hint of hurt in his tone. “I don’t … I don’t know,” I reply truthfully. “I can’t speak for her, but for me … I guess it’s … I feel like I’ve already let her down … and the kids. I didn’t want to let my friends down, too.”

“Liam, you’re not letting any of us down.”

“I’m supposed to maintain this image of my life. Acknowledging that my marriage had completely fallen apart to myself was hard enough. Saying it out loud to someone else …” I shake my head.

“So what the hell are you going to do?” Drake asks. “I mean, you’re going to fix it, right?”

“I don’t know,” I scoff with a shrug. “I don’t know if it can be fixed.”

Drake’s brow furrows. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that …” I trail off, chewing the inside of my cheek, not wanting to say my next words, but they come anyway. “I’m saying that perhaps this is the end of our story.”

“What the fuck, Li?” Drake barks as he abruptly stands from his chair. The reaction startles me, and I look at him, unable to hide my surprise. “How could you even say that?”

“Do you think that’s what I want?” I snap. “Because it’s not! But I can’t force us to get back to where we once were!”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Drake chides, and when I open my mouth to retort, he leans forward, getting right in my face. “It’s bullshit. And. You. Know. It.” He stands upright. “To just accept defeat is not only the easy, coward’s way out, it’s not you!”

“Drake—”

“No, I don’t want to hear it,” Drake interrupts. “What you and Katherine have … it’s the fucking dream, Li. And I’m not talking about the literal fairytale crap,” he says, waving his hands dismissively. “I’m talking about the real shit. I watched you two; I had a front-row fucking seat. I watched your story unfold. I watched you both fight like hell to be together. And here you are now, a decade later, and you’re ready to wave the white flag because you two hit a rough patch that you won’t acknowledge to each other? Fuck. That.”

As I stare up at him, I feel a tear slip down my cheek … because I know he’s right. I clear my throat and snap my gaze toward the window, trying to fight back my emotions.

“I know you both, Li, and neither of you would keep putting yourself through this if you truly wanted to walk away. That’s gotta stand for something.”

My gaze shifts up to his again. “I don’t want to walk away,” I say through a cracked whisper.

“Then you fight.”

Where did it go? The passionate fire? We can’t find the flame And now we’re both tired What do we do When all we have left Is dying for life But on its last breath?

****

That evening, as I’m finishing up my work for the day and finalizing some plans I’ve set into motion, I hear a knock on my study door and call for them to enter. When I look up, Katherine steps inside. “Hi,” I greet her as I rise from my chair.

“Hello,” Katherine responds. She quietly closes the door behind her. “I’m sorry to bother—”

“You’re not bothering me,” I interrupt as I walk around my desk.

Katherine swallows, holding my gaze as she subtly nods. “I, uh … I was just trying to get things in order with my schedule for next week, but it’s … did you have it cleared?”

“I did,” I answer, and my heart is pounding in my chest as I watch the confusion fill her expression while I try to keep mine impassive.

“Why?”

“Because we’re going on a trip.”

Katherine’s brows raise. “We?”

“Yes,” I nod. “We … as in you and me.”

“A trip for what?”

“That’s still to be determined,” I say cryptically.

Katherine furrows her brow. “Is it a work-related thing?”

Even though I expected her to think that, it still hurts when she asks. “No,” I shake my head. “It’s not.”

“I’m confused …”

“About?”

“We … we haven’t gone on a trip that wasn’t duty-related in a long time,” Katherine says. “At least … not together.”

“I think it’s safe to say we’re a bit overdue,” I quip.

“But what about—”

“Eleanor and Lucas are going to have some quality time with their Uncle Drake,” I interrupt again, knowing what she’s wondering. “I spoke with him and made all of the arrangements already.”

Katherine lets out a sigh as she continues to stare at me. “I …” She trails off, shaking her head. “I don’t understand …”

My impassive wall drops and I sigh as I let the emotion I’ve been trying to conceal fill my features. “Katherine …” I speak just above a whisper. “You and I … we’re lost.”

I see her eyes slightly widen as she lets out a breath before she drops my gaze, but not before I see the pain fill her expression. It’s as if hearing me finally acknowledge the truth we’ve both known but have remained silent about out loud has gravely wounded her.

“We’re lost and we both know it. And we can’t keep running from it. We need to face it. We need to … to talk about it and figure out if we’re going to find ourselves again — find us again — or …” I trail off, struggling to say the next words out loud. “Or if we’re going to walk away from this … from each other … because we can’t keep living this way.”

When Katherine looks back up at me, tears trickle down her cheeks. She parts her lips to speak but stops as she lifts a hand and rests it against her throat to where I assume the lump is that’s stolen her voice. More tears fall and more confusion crosses her expression as she continues to hold my gaze.

“I cleared both of our schedules for the next two weeks,” I continue to explain, “and made arrangements for this trip … just for us.”

Katherine’s breath hitches. “Where … where are we going?”

“To the private island …”

I hear the soft breath of acknowledgment Katherine releases.

We can’t run there; we can’t hide or avoid each other. And she knows it. We’ll be left with no other choice but to face this … to face one another.

We stare at each other, and I’m certain the worry and fear of the unknown of what this trip will bring that I’m feeling is the same thing she’s feeling.

We both know we’re going into this completely broken. And we both know that we’re either going to come out pieced back together and on the mend to being whole again … or we’re going to come out irreparably shattered.

I can’t control you Or what your heart will decide But I’ll never stop Trying to fall back in love with what’s already mine…

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

Perma Tags (if you’d like to be added or removed for this story, please let me know): @zaffrenotes @cocomaxley @emichelle @sweetest-marbear @indiacater @gibbles82 @the-soot-sprite @esmckenzie @dcbbw @burnsoslow @deb-1106 @bbrandy2002 @charlotteg234 @neotericthemis @foreverethereal123 @choiceskatie @sirbeepsalot @gnatbrain @openheart12 @sincerelyella @superharriet @queenrileyrose @aestheticartsx @kingliam2019 @indiana-jr @bascmve01 @rainbowsinthestorm @emkay512 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @forallthatitsworth @walker7519 @iaminlovewithtrr @amandablink @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @princessleac1 @21-wishes @appleone @tessa-liam @pixelatedpassion @malblk21 @lovingchoices14 @nestledonthaveone @forthebrokenheartedthings @nomadics-stuff @differenttyphoonwerewolf

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tessa-liam · 6 days

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...Marabelle Series

Crown Prince Liam Rys & Lady Sophia Taylor

Six Sentence Sunday

...future chapter

...Liam's heart was racing as he leaned in, his lips a fraction of an inch away from hers. But suddenly, he felt Sophie's hand pushing him back, her expression sad.

"I can't do this," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Liam froze. "Why not?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Because we can't be together, Liam," she replied, her voice cracking with emotion.

"What are you ... but why not?" he persisted, his heart sinking.

"Because you will be king, and I ... I am just a commoner." Sophie covered her now tearful face, as she broke down in despair.

"I don't belong here..."

Marabelle Series Masterlist

❣️art commission by @/artbyainna❣️

📌taglist in notes

👑Whatcha working on?! @ao719 @ladylamrian @kristinamae093 @jerzwriter @karahalloway

#tessa liam writes #the royal romance #liam rys #trr fanfic #choices fic writers creations #sophie taylor #marabelle #six sentence sunday #cfwc sunday six

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dwiankus · 8 months

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The S-Tier LI *male edition*

I am proud of my babies

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lizzybeth1986 · 5 months

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TRR's Alternative LIs: The "Romances" that Didn't Happen

A complaint that often emerges from readers about the TRH series, is the amount of time that LIs who are not married to the MC spend hovering around her. They seem to be ever-present, ever- ready to do her bidding, give her attention, and shower her with praise. They hardly seem to spend much time at their own homes, don't date, and haven't settled with anyone in the five year-timeline of the series.

"It's almost as if they have no life of their own!" we complain.

Yet this wasn't always the case. TRR was in fact one of the rare Choices series' that had intended - at different points in the first 3 books - for an alternative romance for each of the LIs. So what happened? Why did these attempts fail?

It is easy to assume that the answer would be the same for every alternative pairing - the "crazy stans" threw a tantrum, and the writers backtracked. But one has to only look at the trajectory of each pairing to realize that this reading doesn't apply equally to all of them.

Many factors played into why the writers did a full about-turn and left all their LIs single. Some related to the writers' attitudes towards an LI, some related to how they felt about the side characters they paired the LIs with. And often, the fan response to each fed into those biases and opinions. This essay is an attempt to explore these factors and give as full a picture as I can manage, to answer the question of "why did these pairings not happen?". I hope I can succeed in that.

I will be tagging all those who had responded to the previous feeler post on this or showed interest earlier, but if you see this and would like to be tagged in this series, do let me know!

Intro: A Brief History of Alternative Romances in Choices

Liam and Olivia: When You Prefer the Side Character to the Main

Maxwell and Penelope: When You Like the Side Character So Much, You Gift Her a Shiny New LI

Hana and Madeleine: When You Reward Your Favourite Bully with One of Her Victims

Drake and Kiara: When You're Fucking Racist

#liam rys #hana lee #maxwell beaumont #drake walker #kiara theron #olivia nevrakis #penelope ebrim #madeleine amaranth #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #essay series: trr's alternative LIs

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thosehallowedhalls · 22 days

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three princes walk into a bar

Books: Crimes of Passion, The Royal Romance, Rules of Engagement

Pairing: M!Trystan Thorne, Liam Rys, Leo Rys

Rating: Teen

Word count: 1200+

Summary: Liam has been roped into fixing Trystan's public image. Leo? Leo is just along for the ride.

A/N: This is the seventh chapter of the Round Robin 2024 saga, hosted by @choicesprompts.

Over the rim of his martini glass, Trystan examined the two men watching him.

"You two trying to get into comedy or something? Three princes walk into a bar?"

"I'm a king," Liam corrected.

"I've had to deal with a lot of bullshit this week, Drakovia," Leo shot back, hunched over his own glass. "Don't test me."

"I'm just trying to understand why the two of you sought me out here, Cordonia One and Two. Aren't you," he pointed at Leo, "one of us degenerates in need of a PR miracle? And you," turning to Liam, "a little busy ruling a country?"

Leo downed his whiskey like a shot of tequila. Appalled, Trystan shook his head. "It ought to be a crime to treat a fine blend like that."

"Believe me, if you'd had the week I had," he glared at Liam, "you'd want to gulp down a good whiskey too."

"Which brings us to why I'm here," Liam added. "I've been assigned as your partner."

"You're fucking with me. How the hell does a king get roped into playing PR consultant in a reality show?"

"Hypothetically, a king gets a desperate call from an old friend after your original partner quit."

"I see Bertrand is not above a guilt trip. Good for him. But what makes you think I want your help?"

Liam leaned closer. "Let's be honest here, Trystan. Your public image is a mess. At this point, short of solving a murder, I'm your only option."

"I'll take the murder. Got any dead bodies handy?"

"Afraid not. And no offense, but I really don't see you as a detective. You're too scatterbrained for that."

"Ouch." Trystan sipped from his martini. "Enlighten me, then, Coach. How do you plan to make an honest man out of me?"

Liam took Trystan's wrist and pushed it down. "First of all, you put that drink down. According to a cursory Google search, there are barely any pictures of you from the past three years, minimum, where you're not holding a drink."

"You're calling me an alcoholic?"

"Considering I haven't seen you in almost eight years, I have no idea. But you certainly look like one, and that’s what matters."

"Ohh, appearance makes reality. Is that a royal saying? I always thought it was a Queen Viktoria saying."

"It's a rational person saying. The next step is making you look like you have other thoughts besides who you're going to screw next." He made a face. "Maybe Leo could take some pointers there."

"Hey, you're not my partner, I'm just along for the ride. Besides, may I remind you, I'm happily married."

"I'm aware, and I also know you're faithful to Katie. But if you keep acting like you did before you were married, the public will think it's not a big leap from getting wasted and puking on bushes to cheating on your wife."

Trystan exchanged a commiserating look with Leo. "Was he always like this?"

"Unfortunately."

"Pity."

"Back to you," Liam continued unaffected. “You were exiled almost eight years ago, and it doesn't look like you'll be welcomed back into the fold any time soon. We both know you didn't have anything to do with Countess Juliana's death..."

Trystan drank again. "Do we?" He asked softly.

"Right. I know you didn't have anything to do with Countess Juliana's death." He jerked a thumb in Leo's direction. "So does he."

"You're a lot of things, Drakovia," Leo agreed. "But a murderer isn't one of them."

"Too bad everyone else disagrees."

"Indeed. But you're still a prince, your actions still reflect on your country, and it's only a matter of time before King Maksim and Queen Viktoria tighten the leash."

Trystan sighed and ran a hand over his jaw. His stubble contributed to the general air of dissipation that enveloped him like a mist.

"If you want to keep your comfortable life," Liam continued. "You'll make sure to go from 'drunken waste of space'..."

"Christ, Rys. Why don't you tell me how you really feel."

"... to 'proper gentleman.'"

"Proper gentleman? Seriously?"

"He can't help it," Leo put in. "Put a man on a throne long enough, he'll start to sound like an etiquette manual. Then again," he turned to his brother. "I'm not sure you weren't born this way."

"Carry on like this, brother dearest, and I'll make sure your partner swaps places with Olivia. She finished with Carrera early anyway, I'm sure she could fit you in."

Leo grimaced. "As I was saying, Liam makes excellent points."

"Coward." Trystan gestured to the waitress. "Bring me another one, will you, darling?"

Liam pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did anything I said in the past twenty minutes get through?"

"Maybe? I vaguely recall something about proper." He laughed when Liam dropped his head into his hands. "Relax, Your Majesty. I'll be on my best behavior all week."

"By whose standards?"

"There goes my loophole." Trystan sighed. "Look, I couldn't care less about my public image, but I'm not in any rush to face my mother's wrath. Besides, you're quite frankly pitiful right now. Saying no would make me feel like I was kicking a puppy. A sweet, annoying puppy."

Leo slapped a hand on the table. “Thank you! That's what he reminds me of! A thirty plus year old mystery, solved in a single night. Maybe you really should be a detective.”

Liam looked heavenward when Trystan and Leo laughed and clinked glasses. Praying for patience, no doubt. "Not quite what I was going for, but I'll take it."

"So what's the plan, oh wise one? We've already covered my drinking.”

“We’re going over the basics.”

“How to Be a Productive Member of Society 101?”

“Exactly. And as your partner…”

Trystan sighed. “Can we come up with a different word? I don't really do partners.”

“As your mentor…”

“Partner it is.”

“... It's my responsibility to make you look squeaky clean for the cameras.”

Leo groaned. “Liam, no. I'll grant you that he needs to improve his reputation, but squeaky clean won't do. People will start theorizing that he died and was replaced with a clone. Or a very elaborate AI video.”

“You might be right. What do you propose instead?”

“He leans into the role of loveable rogue. He works hard, he plays hard. He's aware of his privilege and doesn't take it for granted.”

Liam turned to face his brother. “That's rather good. Why the hell haven’t you been doing that?”

A shadow passed over Leo’s face, but he grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know? But you’re not my partner, thank God. So let’s focus on our exiled prince here.”

Trystan blew out a breath. “Look, I’d like to get out of this island sooner rather than later. Can we get this over with?”

“Surprisingly, Leo makes a good point. Too big a change wouldn’t feel authentic. You still need to come across as you, just…”

“An upgraded version?”

“Exactly. So.” He pulled out a leather-bound notebook and a fountain pen. “We begin.”

Three hours later, Trystan had a headache, Liam was inching ever closer to a migraine, and Leo… Well, Leo had his face buried in another drink. But the sense of satisfaction permeated the air.

“There’s hope for you yet, Thorne,” Liam said delightedly. “Two more days or so and you’ll be ready for the cameras.”

“Oh joy.”

“But.” He planted his hands on the table and leaned forward. “If you screw this up, I’ll personally make sure that your next partner isn’t as nice as me.”

Trystan laughed. “Fear not, young Jedi. No offense, but I’m done with partners. Never again.”

#round robin 2024 #trystan thorne #liam rys #leo rys #crimes of passion #the royal romance #rules of engagement #playchoices #30 drabbles in 30 days

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gaiuskamilah · 4 months

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for @choicesfandomappreciation's secret pal event, i got @tessa-liam! here's a liam and riley (and chance the corgi) for you, i hope you like it and happy holidays!! ❤️

bg & silver medal from pb official art bc i was too tired to draw it by hand lol

#playchoices #choicessecretpal23 #the royal romance #trr #liam rys #liam x mc #riley brooks #my art

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karahalloway · 4 months

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

Fandom: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Harper greets the world as the new Duchess of Valtoria, but that is not the only newsworthy item that rocks the Apple Harvest Festival...

Word Count: 7,300

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, angst, possible ulterior motives)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: Things are slowly coming to a head! Thanks for bearing with me on this series - I know I have a lot of other projects in the works, so I have not been updating as much as I probably should. But, we are finally getting to the exciting parts (as if what's happened until now hasn't been exciting 🤣) as after this chapter, we are into the meat of the engagement tour, and all the juicy plot changes that I have been wanting to write for over a year will finally come to a fore! *evil laugh*

A/N2: If you have not heard of TURN - the TV show from which I borrowed the chapter theme song - then, I can highly recommend it (especially if you like historical dramas, US history (specifically the Revolutionary War period), or just really good story-telling)!

A/N3: This is also much submission for @choicesjanuary2024 Day 12: Smiles / Secret

Chapter 16 - Snakes in the Garden

"Are you sure I look okay?" I ask, nervously pulling at the high-necked strip of emerald lace that circles my throat.

"Stop fiddling!" Bertrand berates, slapping my hand away. "We are running late as it, and we cannot afford to lose any more time to last minute touch-ups!"

"Yeah, but—"

"You look great, Harper," Maxwell assures me with a beaming smile. "Marcie did a great job."

The petite make-up artist that the Beaumonts had procured out of thin air bobs a curtsy to my right. "It was my pleasure, Your Grace."

Her words hit me like a whiplash.

Your Grace.

My new form of address. One I'm not sure I'm ever going to get used to. Lady Harper had been one thing, but that had always felt like a curtesy. A temporary formality that had been extended to me by virtue of my sponsorship by the Beaumonts during the social season.

But there is nothing temporary about my current situation. The weight of the ring on my hand — and its implications — bears down heavily on my finger... and my thoughts. Especially since I still haven't found a moment alone with Drake to finish our conversation from this morning... or bring him up to speed on my new status.

Because no sooner had my ennoblement been sealed with the very expensive — and very potent — champagne, than the Beaumonts had shown back up (somewhat mercifully) to crash Christian's surprise party.

And from there it had been a whirlwind of hair, makeup and outfitting for the all-important Apple Harvest Festival where I am due to make my grand debut as the new Duchess of Valtoria.

A position of some importance — Bertrand has stressed, multiple times — given that in addition to the impressive estate that I am now the official caretaker of, I also have a seat on the infamous Council, as well as a seat on the even more exclusive Privy Council. Not to mention my own fleet of staff, vehicles, bank accounts, and carefully curated online profiles.

Which is why — on top of everything — the ever-industrious press corps have worked at record speed to throw the fruits of yesterday's labours together into an exclusive, twelve-page spread as part of a special edition of Trend magazine, which dropped this morning.

And while I haven't actually had a chance to read through the copy that currently sits on the coffee table of my room (together with every other major national and international news publication), Maxwell has assured me that the social media reactions have — so far — been positive. The snaps of my stress-fuelled efforts at yesterday's apple pick have apparently helped.

Which means that Jonathan's PR gamble is starting to pay dividends, and I now have a public image to maintain. Not just for myself, but for Cordonia as well. Because when I step outside today, I'll be representing everything that the kingdom under Christian's burgeoning rule is striving to be — beauty, modernity, opportunity.

Definitely not the best day to wake up with a litany of awkwardly situated bruises!

Thankfully, both Maxwell and Bertrand seem to have had a chance to pull themselves together after this morning's surprising (and definitely explosive!) turn of events, and — after the initial shock — have set about covering for mine and Drake's mess with the same coordinated precision that they employed to pull the Beaumont Bash out of their butts.

With the result that they somehow managed to transform me from the black and blue disaster I woke up as, into the picture of a polished and refined lady.

I glance apprehensively out at the bright sunshine blanketing the hills. Hopefully, the carefully applied window-dressing survives the literal trial by fire it's about to be subjected to. Because just like yesterday, the temperature is set to climb into the mid-90's today as well, which means I'll most likely end up sweating buckets again, thanks to the Edwardian nature of my dress's neckline.

And what I definitely don't need today is for all the blush and cover-up getting smudged away so that everyone at the event can start speculating about the intimate placement of my of hickeys!

I close my eyes wearily. God, I can't wait for all this to be over...

"No catnaps!" snaps Bertrand, slapping a wide-brimmed hat onto my head. "The people are waiting on us!"

I barely have time to grab my matching clutch before the Beaumonts are whisking me out of my room and down the length of the corridor towards the manor's lawn.

"Surely the Festival can start without us...!" I gasp as I stumble after Bertrand in my heels.

"No, it cannot," he reprimands. "All members of the Council must be present for the ceremonial tree planting."

I frown. "Tree planting? Isn't that a little... agrarian for the aristos?"

"It is a time-honoured tradition!" corrects Bertrand. "Cordonia owes its existence and livelihood to the noble Ruby, so it is the duty of the Council to ensure that the fruits of our bounty are secured for future generations! Hence, the requirement to plant new saplings at the end of each harvest!"

"If you say so..." I concede as we pass through the back doors of the manor.

Based on what I saw at the apple pick, Bertrand's pronouncement seems optimistic at best, given that none of the aristos even bothered to lift a finger to a tree yesterday.

But, looks can always be deceiving, so maybe today is the day that the I am pleasantly surprised for once.

A deafening cheer erupts as the Beaumonts and I step out onto the manor's steps.

Snapping my head towards the source of the commotion, I see what appears to be thousands of people crammed behind velvet-lined cordons, screaming and jostling for position like they're in the front row of a Taylor Swift concert...

...and it takes me a second to realise that it's my name that they're shouting.

"Duchess!"

"Lady Harper, we love you!"

"You're the true Apple Queen, no matter what anyone says!"

"Wow..." I blink, taken aback by the fervency of the crowd's reaction. "I didn't realise I had such a rabid following..."

"Best wave to them," suggests Maxwell, leaning in as he raises his arm into the air with a wide smile.

"Okay..." I concede hesitantly, turning to the crowd to do the same.

The last time I experienced anything remotely like this had been on the red carpet at the Derby — my first public outing as a suitor. But even the bright flash of the cameras and the intrusive questions that the reporters had flung at me paled in comparison to the reaction I am receiving today.

Phones and cameras are thrust into the air as the Beaumonts and I descend the manor's stairs to the accompaniment of the increasingly frenzied cheers and shouts of encouragement. Even a few bouquets of flowers fly through the air, narrowly missing my hat.

And I can't help but smile in the face of the genuine outpouring of support from the crowd. Because it sure as heck feels good to be on top for once!

However, arriving at the edge of the orchard where the tree planting ceremony is due to take place, I am greeted by a very different type of welcome.

Snooty expressions drip down the ends of aristocratic noses as the members of the Council pass silent judgment on my somewhat bombastic entrance.

"They're just jealous," Maxwell whispers to me as we take up our spots at the edge of the gathering.

"Yeah..." I agree with a stilted voice. "That's what I'm worried about."

I know firsthand of the lengths that these people are willing to go to in order to exact vengeance for perceived slights. And I did not particularly feel like painting a target on my back a second time while I am still trying to recover from the hurt caused by the first.

Maybe this is a mistake...

But I don't have time to think on it long, because the public erupts into an even more deafening outburst as Christian appears with Madeleine on his arm.

"Look at her..." snips a voice from behind me. "Acting like she's Queen already."

I whip around in disbelief. "Olivia!"

The Duchess of Lythikos cuts her green eyes over at me with a derisive look. "Oh, don't look so surprised, Harper. Just because you are now a duchess, does not mean that the rest of us have taken early retirement."

"Trust me," I grumble under my breath, "this was not the plan."

"Opportunities multiply as they are seized," she replies sagely.

I quirk a brow at her. "Meaning?"

"Meaning," she expounds surly, "opportunity breeds opportunity. And only by exploiting every advantage will you uncover previously hidden gains. Do they not teach The Art of War inyour schools?"

"No..."

She scoffs under her breath. "Explains a lot."

I roll my eyes at her as Christian and Madeleine pause on the steps for photos and a couple of quick sound bites. "I guess this means your sabbatical was productive?"

"Exceedingly."

I heave a breath. "At least one of us is making progress..."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short," she counters out of the corner of her mouth. "Your recent advancements have served as a welcome distraction..."

"Not sure if that’s a compliment, or not..." I admit sourly.

"You have more power than you realise," she insists quietly. "Make sure you use it."

"Wow..." I mutter, glancing over at her in genuine surprise. "Friendly advice from the Scarlet Duchess? What else have you learnt during your time away?"

"Our interests are temporarily aligned, nothing more," she replies, shooting daggers across the lawn towards Madeleine. "And I'll fill you in shortly."

"Well, it's good to have you back, regardless," I say with a dip of my head. "Your Grace."

Olivia shoots me a sidelong look. "Don't get sentimental on me, Duchess."

But I can see the hint of a smile pulling at her lips.

Christian and Madeleine arrive at the edge of the trees. Stepping up to the row of waiting saplings, Christian pulls a stack of notecards out of his pocket and delivers a short speech to the click of the cameras.

As the mandatory applause dies down, he slots the pieces of paper carefully away... and pulls off his jacket.

"What are you doing?" hisses Madeleine as the crowd descends into a hubbub of excited reactions.

"Taking a leaf out of the Duchess of Valtoria's book," he replies, handing his jacket off to the closest shocked Councillor as he sets about rolling up his sleeves.

"Out of—!" Madeleine bristles in indignation, while trying to maintain an outwardly calm composure. "The only thing you have taken is leave of your senses! Now get back here and—!"

Ignoring his fiancée's outburst, Christian grabs the ribbon-bedecked shovel out of the hands of the footman that was holding it, and steps up to a clear patch of grass. Adjusting his grip on the handle, he digs the metal blade decisively into the ground to the accompanying slew of clicking camera shutters.

"Shall we?" asks Olivia with a sly smirk as she pushes her way to the front of the line of gawping nobles.

"Let's," I agree, instantly catching onto her plan.

"Lady Harper!" hisses Bertrand from behind me. "What do you think you're—?"

"Lending a hand to the King," I throw back over my shoulder as I step to the front of the row of aristos who are looking mutely onto the sight of their monarch working up an actual sweat before them.

Grabbing another shovel from the pile in the corner — these ones obviously having seen some honest work already, judging by the dirt encrusted on their faces — I join the King of Cordonia in enlarging the hole in the ground.

Because regardless of Christian's underlying motives for ennobling me, and whatever his broader game may be, what he is doing right now is bigger than me, bigger than him, bigger than any of us. And that deserves recognition. Especially when he is taking such active — and public — strides towards being the change he wants to see unfurl during his rule. Where the ruling class doesn't just offer empty platitudes and hollow ceremony, but actually practices what it preaches. So, what better way to do that, than by planting the seeds of change in front of thousands of people in the literal heart of the kingdom?

Christian rewards my arrival with a nod and a smile as I take up position next to him.

Hefting my shovel, I slice it into the earth that he's already uncovered, using the somewhat flimsy sole of my heeled sandals to drive it deeper.

Scooping the blade back out, I suddenly feel a presence to my left. Looking up, I see that Maxwell has also joined our impromptu work crew.

Throwing me a wink, he drops his shovel in next to mine.

With the three of us working on tandem, it takes us almost no time at all to dig out a hole large enough to house the new apple tree.

Wiping the sweat from my forehead — the weatherman had not lied, that's for sure! — I see that Olivia, with some assistance from Hana, has already prepared the sapling by shunting it closer to the hole and removing the burlap covering from its roots.

Laying down our shovels, we help her manoeuvre the tree to the edge of the dint. Cheers and applause rise up from the onlookers as the sapling thuds into the earth. Olivia uses one of the knives from her hidden arsenal to slice off the twines holding the branches together, and the tree unfurls itself with a satisfied snap.

"Your Majesty!" shouts a reporter, who I recognise as Frederick Capone. "One for the Cordonian Times, if you please!"

"And for the CBS!" adds Donald Brine, muscling his way to the front.

"Certainly," accedes Christian graciously, holding his arm out. "It was a group effort, after all."

We all gather in — sweaty and dirty, but smiling — as the press corps immortalises the scene...

...and I innocuously sweep my hair over my shoulder in a vain effort to try and hide any bruises that may have become uncovered as a result of the unplanned exertion.

"Thank you for joining me in my moment of impulsivity," Christian acknowledges softly as the bulbs flash.

"Please," scoffs Olivia out of the side of her mouth. "It was coordinated from the start."

"The people don't seem to mind," counters Hana with a demure smile as she faces the cameras.

"With the exception of about half-dozen," I note, glancing back at the disgruntled looks of the Councillors from behind us, as they try to save face by applauding our efforts together with the rest of the crowd.

"They'll fall in line." Christian assures me as he lifts his hand with a wave.

I feel a prick between my shoulder blades. Turning my head, I catch sight of the cold fire radiating out of Madeleine's gaze from behind the mask of her perfect smile.

"Maybe not everyone..." I mutter under my breath as I turn back towards the paps.

I'm already on Madeleine's shit list for daring to return to court after my very public humiliation and banishment. On the night of her engagement tour launch party, no less! So, the fact that I ended up upstaging her — again — probably means that I've sunk even further down the ladder of her estimations.

To what end, I have no idea. But I'm going to have to start being more careful from here on out.

Once the press are finally placated, we disperse across the lawn in search of some much-needed refreshments.

"Harper!"

I swallow a groan as I'm brought up short, mere steps from the freshly squeezed, rosemary-infused lemonade that I desperately need after toiling away in this heat. "What now, Bertrand...?"

"I... uhm..." He clears his throat as I turn to face him. "I wanted to apologise for my earlier outburst. It was unseemly... and in retrospect, short-sighted."

"What do you mean?" I ask with a frown. Bertrand very rarely — if ever! — apologised.

"The public reaction to the tree planting has been overwhelming," he clarifies, pulling his phone out.

My eyes bulge as I take in the view count on the screen. "A hundred thousand views already!"

"And counting," Bertrand adds. "And that is only one website."

"And look at the comments!" I exclaim, scrolling through the feed. "They're loving Maxwell as well!"

"Yes, it appears that my brother has a keener instinct for media relations than I do..."

"You should tell him that," I say. "It would mean the world to him."

Bertrand looks momentarily taken aback. "I... Well..." He clears his throat again. "Yes. Maybe I will. He deserves some recognition for his efforts in diverting — at least temporarily — the negative attention away from our financial predicaments."

"A simple hug and a 'thank-you' will do," I tell him with a knowing look.

Bertrand reels back in abject horror. "I will not subject my brother to such a sordid display of affection! Especially in public!"

I heave a sigh. "And there's your problem, right th—"

I trail off as I spot a familiar figure signalling to me from over Bertrand's shoulders.

"Excuse me," I say, palming Bertrand's phone back to him as I move towards one of the marquees that had been set up at the edge of the lawn.

Slipping inside the flap of the tent, I come face-to-face with Ana de Luca.

"Your Grace," she nods, dipping into a curtesy, something she hasn't deigned to do before. "Thank you for making the time."

"Ana," I nod in return, wondering why the influential editor of Trend chose to pull me away for a private meeting. Especially after I cornered her so forcefully at Madeleine's garden party a few days ago.

"I suppose congratulations are in order," she continues, straightening back up. "Since returning to court you have managed to elevate yourself not just in rank, but in the eyes of the public as well. Rolling your sleeves up in tandem with the King was a masterful piece of image enhancement."

"I didn't do it for myself," I reply evenly.

"Of course," she nods quickly. "We must all step in line with our new King. But your reputation is certainly reaping the benefits as well."

"As is your bottom line," I point out.

"Your initiative is markedly boosting sales of this month's special edition, as well as traffic to our website," she concedes. "For which Trend is very grateful. But that is not the reason I pulled you aside."

"What is it then?"

"I found out the name of the photographer," she replies, reaching into her handbag.

I feel my heart jump in my chest. "You're joking..."

She raises a brow at me from behind the lenses of her black-out Versace shades as she pulls a small flash-drive out. "I can assure you that I am not."

I quickly pull myself back together. "No. Of course not..."

Handing the drive over, she adds. "On there you will find all the pertinent information I was able to obtain through my own means."

"Thank you," I say sincerely, taking the piece of plastic from her. "I honestly was not expecting this..."

She shrugs an elegant shoulder. "I said I would look into it, so I did. It is not much, but I am sure you have people who can hopefully take it further."

"I do," I affirm, slotting the device into my clutch.

"After all," she adds with a knowing quirk to her lips. "You are not the only one with a vested interest in seeing your name cleared, Your Grace."

With another quick bob, she exits the marquee.

I let out a low exhale as the tent flap drops back into place in her wake. "Thank God..."

Some much-needed progress at last!

Hopefully, Drake can take the information from the drive and do a deep dive into the photographer to see if they ever crossed paths with whoever it is that has it in for me.

Which reminds me...

Opening my clutch up again, I pull my phone out and type up a quick message to my elusive boyfriend.

I haven't seen or heard from him since the event started. And now I have two pieces of critical information I need to share with him. So, rather than chasing after him like some damsel in distress, I'm going to make him come to me for a change. Because time is of the essence, and I don't want to wait.

Hitting send, I exit the tent and head back towards the orchard. I figure that since everyone is on the lawn, the secluded garden hidden amongst the trees will give me and Drake the best chance to meet in private, away from the prying eyes of the court and the press.

Slipping between the tree trunks, I try to make my way as casually as possible through the orchard, as if I am simply out for a walk, in order to ward off potential suspicion. But, as I drift further away from the Festival, I start to pick up the pace, mindful of the short timeframe I gave Drake... as well as the exposed roots on the ground.

Because as much as I might want to hurry, I definitely don't want — or need — a twisted ankle the day before we're due to start the international leg of the trip. As Mom was right — I should take advantage of the upcoming whirlwind tour of Europe to at least try and get some sightseeing in. As who knows when I'll get the chance to do this again...

...especially if I'm forced to become a hermit because we fail to expose the mastermind behind the press scandal.

I shake my head. No. I need to stay positive. It's the only way I'm going to get through—

"Competing with a herd of elephants, Gale?"

I snap my gaze up at the sound of Drake's voice... and nearly trip over a hidden apple lodged in the grass.

"You try sneaking ‘round in four-inch heels," I grumble back at him, while using the trunk of a nearby tree to steady myself.

He mutters something under his breath as he steps over to me with an outstretched hand. "Here."

Grabbing his hand, I navigate gingerly away from the tree, only to find that the slightly rotten fruit has become impaled on the end of my stiletto.

"Great..." I groan, trying to flick the stupid thing off... But it stays stubbornly stuck.

"You're a walking disaster, y'know that, right?" drawls Drake as he drops down in front of me.

"Ha-ha, funny," I snark back at him while trying to balance on one foot on the uneven ground.

He meets my eye with a wry look as he finally manages to pull the offending fruit off with a squelch. "You're only gripin' 'cause it's true."

"Yeah, well, not all of us have... reflexes... like Neo..." I reply sardonically as I save myself from tipping over by grabbing onto Drake's shoulder.

He stifles a scoff as he tosses the apple into the trees. "You good?"

"Yeah," I confirm, righting myself again and letting go of his shirt.

Drake regards me critically for a long moment — as if expecting me to keel over again at the drop of a hat — before pushing himself up.

"Thanks," I say, laying an appreciative hand on his arm.

The humour fades from his gaze at the contact.

"Drake..." I start...

...but he's already pulled away.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asks, not quite meeting my eyes as he slots his hands into his pockets, the momentary lightness of our previous interaction gone.

I heave a breath.

We really need to talk about what happened this morning. But his suddenly standoffish demeanour makes it clear that he's not quite ready for that yet.

So, I decide to start with something less contentious.

"We have a lead on the photographer," I tell him, reaching into my clutch.

His head perks up with interest. "That was fast."

"Teamwork makes the dream work," I agree with a smile, pulling the flash drive back out and holding it out to him.

His posture suddenly stiffens. "The hell is that?"

I glance around me uncertainly. "What?"

"The fucking ring on your finger," he declares dispassionately, his accusatory gaze scorching into my outstretched hand.

My heart drops. Oh, no...

This is not how I wanted to break it to him. But unfortunately for both of us, the cat has now ripped itself out of the proverbial bag, so I'm just going to have to scamper after it.

Taking a steadying inhale, I look him square in the eye. "It's my new signet ring." I turn my hand over to show it to him.

His face darkens. "Fils de pute de—" he grits under his breath, snapping a hand out to grab my wrist.

My eyes widen. "Drake, what are y—?"

A storm is raging in his espresso gaze. "Signet rings go on the little finger. On the right hand."

"Oh," is all I can manage as he swipes the golden band off my left ring finger.

"You didn't know, did you?" he asks softly, reaching for my other hand... more gently this time.

I shake my head with a constricted throat. "No, I—"

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

My head jerks ‘round at the sound of the unexpected voice. "Christian!"

"I see you couldn't resist a somewhat impulsive stroll through the orchards, either?" he asks, more rhetorically than anything else. "The scent of apples is truly luscious this time of year."

"Erm... yes...!" I manage to squeak out, shoving my right hand behind my back. "Smells like apple juice!"

Christian's brow quivers ever so slightly at my slightly random — and obviously unexpected — comparison.

But I'm too busy coordinating with Drake to get the signet ring shoved back onto my hand while trying to palm the flash drive off to him without dropping either in the process. As both outcomes would lead to some very awkward conversations!

I feel the warmth of the metal slide onto the index finger of my hand (Drake had probably ascertained that the circumference of the band was too large for my pinky), and I'm finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Embarrassing backpedaling, narrowly averted!

Drake uses the opportunity to extract the flash drive from my hand as well, dropping the device casually into his pocket as he moves beside me. "She ain't wrong."

"No," concedes Christian, eying the two of us for a second longer than strictly comfortable. "She rarely is."

"So, umm... Are you hiding from the paps as well?" I ask in a bid to diffuse the growing tension in the air.

"No, I came looking for you, actually," he corrects, taking a step forward. "I saw you slip into the orchard, and thought it prudent to follow you."

"Oh?" I say, feeling my stomach tighten again. "Worried I might get lost?"

"I was hoping to catch you alone," he corrects, coming to a stop in front of me.

I swallow tightly as I see him glance over at Drake.

Please don't fight... Please don't fight...

Christian's gaze reverts to me. "But I suppose it is convenient for Drake to happen to be here as well."

My heart skips an uncomfortable beat. "It is?"

"Yes," he affirms. "I have received some news that you'll both be interested in hearing."

"Well, don't keep us in damn suspense, then..." mutters Drake with a noticeable edge to his voice.

I try to reach discretely out to brush my fingers against his, to reassure him that come what may, we'll get through it together, that—

"We found Tariq."

Christian's words hit me like a kick to the chest. The breath explodes out of me so forcefully that I am actually forced to take a step back in a bid to maintain my balance as the apple trees descend into a spin around me.

No way...

"Where?"

Drake's voice floats across the edge of my awareness. And even in my spaced-out state, I can feel the weight of the cold, calculated fury infused into that single word.

No corner... No mercy.

"Dubai," replies Christian, who also sounds like he's miles away. "He—"

But Drake's already spun away. "Send me the coordinates."

"Harper?"

I blink up at Christian in a daze. "Huh?"

"Are you alright?" he asks, laying a concerned hand on my cheek. "You... You looked as if you were about to faint..."

"I..." I swallow past the sudden dryness in my throat. "I'm okay."

"Are you certain?" he presses, peering down at me. "I could ring for a doctor, and—"

"No," I insist, pulling away from him. "I'm fine. I... I guess I just got caught off-guard..."

"It is an unexpected development, certainly," he concedes. "But hopefully still a welcome one?"

"Yes!" I blurt out. "Of course! I want to clear my name more than anyone, and Tariq is key to that! I just..." My voice trails uncertainly off.

Christian flashes me a knowing half-smile. "Feel some trepidation about the prospect...?"

"I guess so," I concede, my fingers moving unconsciously to the horseshoe charm at my wrist.

Because as much as I may want Tariq to pay for what he did from a rational point of view, from an emotional standpoint, I’m terrified.

As even though I know in the back of my mind that a lot of my trepidation has to do with the fact that I am still trying to recover from the psychological trauma that Tariq inflicted on me, a major part of me is also scared of what setting the record straight would entail in practice.

Christian had mentioned that there were 'methods of persuasion' that could be used to force a confession from Tariq. But then what? Would I be made to very publicly relive the entire horrible episode in the form of TV spots and interviews, or would we be able to get by with one official press release? And given my spotty history with the press, will people actually believe my side of the story...?

I mean, Meghan and Harry didn’t exactly fare well in the court of public opinion when they tried to counter the official royal narrative...

On top of all that, in light of my very visceral reactions to returning to Applewood, I have no idea how I'm going to react to seeing Tariq in person again. Would I burst into tears? Have a nervous breakdown? Dissolve into a panic attack? Stab him in the gut and then the nuts?

And (possibly worst of all) what if we discover that Tariq had been acting alone? And his attack on me — while traumatising — is in no way connected to the larger, and definitely more dangerous plot to remove me from the running for Queen? What then...?

"Your qualms are not as misplaced as you may initially think," Christian consoles. "It is a daunting prospect to face the person who actively sought to harm you."

Something in his tone catches my attention. "What do you mean?"

Christian heaves a sigh. "I do not know if you are aware of this, but several years ago, I was the target of an assassination attempt."

I nod tightly. "Yes. Drake told me."

"Then I presume he also told you how deeply the experience affected me," he says, catching my eye with an uncharacteristically guarded look.

"Yes," I affirm, thinking back to the conversation in Olivia's wine cellar that felt like years ago.

"What he probably didn't tell you, however," he continues, "is that I visited the perpetrator in prison."

My jaw drops. "You what!"

"Not publicly and certainly not in any official capacity." He shakes his head wryly. "I did not even talk to the man."

"Then why...?"

"I... I was having trouble reconciling with what had happened," he explains. "And moving past it. The trauma councillor that I was working with suggested that it was perhaps because I was subconsciously endowing the gunman with too much power, and thereby transmuting the man into something more akin to an evil monster."

A shiver runs down my spine at Christian's words. It's like he's talking about Tariq...

"So, to help break the negative emotional associations I had built up, my councillor arranged a clandestine meeting where I would have the opportunity to face the man."

"How... How did that go?" I ask nervously.

"I was terrified, of course," Christian admits. "I had no idea what to expect and each scenario I imagined in my head was worse than the last. But, when I finally got into room where the meeting was to take place, I was surprised by what I saw. As rather than some hulking, shadowy fiend, it was a pale, somewhat diminutive man sat across from me."

"So… what did you do?"

"We simply sat at a table and stared at each other," he recounts. "He with more than a bit of contemptuous malice, I have to admit, but in that moment, I realised that he was a flesh-and-blood person who had fallen prey to the same misguided emotions as I — anger, fear, resentment — just manifested differently. And that helped set me onto the path of true healing. As ultimately, I was able to forgive him."

"Forgive him?" I gasp disbelievingly. "For trying to murder you?"

"Nobody acts in isolation," Christian advises calmly. "Even the most unconscionable horrors perpetrated by the villains of humanity — torture, mass murder, genocide — sprout from the basis of an emotional or psychological motivator such as love, fear, greed, jealousy... to name but a few. So, while we may disagree with and condemn the action retrospectively from the safety of the moral high-ground, it is very possible that had we found ourselves in a similar situation, we would end up being just as guilty as the person we are looking to condemn."

"So, what?" I demand testily. "I should feel sorry for Tariq for what he did to me?"

"Showing empathy and compassion towards our counterparts does not mean forgetting or excusing the harm suffered," counsels Christian. "But it will certainly allow you to start on the path of true healing."

I shake my head as I turn away. "I'm not sure Tariq deserves that..."

"It is by no means an easy assignment," he admits, laying a hand on my shoulder. "But even if you cannot find it in your heart presently to forgive him, do at least try to keep yourself open to the possibility down the line. You may be surprised by the results."

Looking up, I can see that there is sincerity welling on his emerald gaze. And — for once — I don't doubt the true intent of his words. "Thanks. I'll think about it."

"As diplomatic as ever," he smiles, the tips of his fingers brushing down my back as he drops his hand. "And, regardless of what you choose to do, I'll be right by your side to support you."

"Thanks," I mutter with what I hope is a genuine smile, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that with Drake’s abrupt departure, it’s just me and Christian amongst the trees. Taking a step back towards the way I’d come, I ask, "So, umm... How did you end up finding him?"

"Instagram," replies Christian with a wry chuckle as he falls into step beside me.

My head snaps up in bewilderment. "He posted his whereabouts?"

"No," he laughs, looping my arm through his in reassurance. "Not intentionally, at any rate. He took shelter on his cousin's yacht docked off the coast of the Palm Jumeirah, and—"

"What's that?" I ask with a frown.

"One of a trio of artificially constructed archipelagos located off the coast of Dubai," he explains. "They are so called for their shape, which resemble stylised palm trees."

"Sounds... fancy," I admit, while trying to maintain some semblance of platonic distance between the two of us.

"They really are a sight to behold," he affirms, pulling me back to his side. "But it is part of the reason why we were not able to locate him initially — we knew he has family in the Emirates, of course, but—"

"He does?" I interject in surprise. This is certainly news to me...!

"Yes," he nods. "His father is a Cordonian nobleman, but his mother hails from the House of Al Falasi, the branch of the Bani Yas tribe that also produced Dubai's ruling family."

My eyes widen. "So, his mom is royalty?"

"No," chuckles Christian. "She is not directly connected to the Al Maktoum dynasty. But her family is nevertheless influential in the region. Which is why when we hit a roadblock with the French authorities, we decided to focus our efforts on countries where we knew he had familial or business connections. The Emirates, however, boast a multitude of private airfields, not to mention water-based ports of entry, so attempting to narrow down Tariq’s possible time and method of arrival and determining where he went from there was providing to be a complex undertaking. Especially since we had to ensure to conduct our enquiries outside of the official channels."

"Specifically, via social media," I supply dryly.

"Yes," confirms Christian, only half jokingly. "When we realised that Tariq must have switched off or changed out his phone, Drake suggested that we set up a facial recognition-based search algorithm that could scour the various social media and news portals in a bid to help us pinpoint his exact location."

"That sounds... technical," I admit.

"A few years ago, it would have been, But the technology is relatively commonplace now, thankfully."

"So, you managed to get a hit?"

"Yes," he affirms. "One of his cousins on his mother's side posted a selfie featuring his new yacht a couple of days ago... and someone who partially matched Tariq's features was visible on the edge of the frame. But it wasn't until this morning that our man on the ground was able to obtain independent confirmation that it really was him."

"Wow..." I manage. "Talk about blind, dumb luck."

"Never underestimate the awesome power of serendipity," counsels Christian with a smile as we reach the edge of the trees again. "It certainly played a hand in crossing our paths."

I swallow nervously. "Yeah, I—"

"You have some nerve!"

Before I have a chance to realise what is happening, Madeleine has swooped in from seemingly out of nowhere to intercept us with all the wrathful precision of a homing missile.

"Ow!" I hiss, feeling the ends of her manicured nails sink into my arm as she wrenches me off Christian like I'm some kind of plague.

"One would think you would be grateful to His Majesty for his benevolent generosity in elevating your previously non-existent status to that of a duchess," she spits with barely disguised contempt as she pulls me nose-to-nose with her.

"Get off me!" I grit, trying to shake her loose.

"Madeleine..." interjects Christian from behind me in a voice that I only heard him use once before... in the hallway at Ramsford when he realised that Drake had brought me back to Cordonia. "You overstep."

But the Countess of Fydelia seems to hear neither of us as she tightens her claw-like hold on me. "Yet instead, you repay him by not only by hijacking a royal event to serve your own shameless self-aggrandisement—"

I shake my head in disbelief. "Wait... Wh—?"

"—but then you have the unmitigated gall—"

"Madeleine," says Christian again, more forcefully this time. "That is enough."

But Madeleine is oblivious to the quiet threat suffused into the sound of her name, choosing to continue her tirade instead, "—to sneak off into the bushes with my fiancé in order to do God-knows-what when he should be—"

"I said, enough!" snaps Christian, coming suddenly between Madeleine and me with a face of thunder.

The force of his command is loud enough to cause a few heads on the edge of the lawn to turn curiously towards us.

Even Madeleine startles somewhat in response to the uncharacteristically vehement order. But not enough to let go of me.

"Can you not see what she is doing?" she demands indignantly as she turns to face Christian. "Or does she have you wrapped so tightly around her finger that you cannot even—?"

"How I choose to spend my time with the Duchess of Valtoria in private is of no concern to you, Countess," interjects Christian bluntly. "Or do I need to remind you of the conditions of our engagement?"

Madeleine's alabaster cheeks flush scarlet. "No..."

"Then I strongly suggest that you unhand Lady Harper, and ensure that this kind of juvenile outburst does not happen again."

Madeleine's eyes blaze with cold fury. But she relinquishes her hold on me, nevertheless. "My apologies, Duchess..." she snips, her voice dripping with insincerity.

I reach up to rub the spot where her nails had been on the verge of puncturing my skin.

Bitch...

Christian nods tersely in approval. "Now that that is sorted, I believe our guests are waiting. Lady Madeleine, if you'd be so kind..."

Madeleine takes his arm with a look that could've killed. "Of course, Your Majesty."

"Lady Harper," acknowledges Christian with a dip of his head as he starts to steer his seething fiancée away.

Knowing that all eyes are still on us, I drop into a quick curtesy as they walk past, on one hand grateful to Christian for shutting Madeleine down, but on the other hand wondering how badly we kicked into a nest of hornets in the process.

As it is clear that Madeleine is still raging with jealous insecurity... Perhaps even more so than she had been back at her manor when she cornered me in the bathroom. And the fact that — despite the massive diamond on her finger — I now technically outrank her is definitely not helping the situation!

So much for making allies at court…

Blowing a wayward strand of hair out of my face, I turn back towards the festivities…

…only to be greeted by a wall of judgemental eyes, and more than a few camera lenses.

"Great..." I mutter under my breath.

Whether catching me with Christian had been the genuine straw that snapped Madeleine's cool, or whether she deliberately fabricated the showdown to undermine the positive reactions I got from the press earlier, the end result is the same...

I'm going to be on the front page tomorrow. Again.

Exactly in what form, I have no idea. But I've been at court long enough now to know that the whole thing will be blown completely out of proportion, and the resulting story will generate even more press frenzy.

But if there’s one thing that Drake has taught me, it’s that I cannot allow myself to give the aristos the satisfaction of ever thinking that they’ve managed to squash me into the dirt. Because that would undermine the entire reason why I came back to court in the first place, and given how close we now are to claiming back the truth, it would be a massive and premature admission of defeat.

So, raising my chin defiantly, I make my way back across the lawn to rejoin the remainder of the Festival.

The story continues in Chapter 17 - News Flash

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

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

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cordonianroyalairlines · 3 months

Text

Staking a Claim

Series: Cordonian Royal Airlines

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Various

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Drake

Word Count: 2,340

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Language mostly

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

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

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

Liam grunted in consternation. “Drake!”

Drake spun back around, “What?”

“What is your malfunction?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ow! Fuck!” Liam grabbed his forehead.

“Sorry, sorry!”

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

“No!”

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

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

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

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

“Which ones?” Drake asked.

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

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

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

“I don’t!” Drake glared at them both.

Hana giggled as she backed out of the cockpit.

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

“Who?”

“The guy! In 12B.”

“How would I know?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Because then she’ll know I care!”

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

“I mean she’ll think I care!”

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

“I don’t follow.”

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

“I’m not going out there.”

“Okay.”

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

“Sure you do.”

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

“Sure you did.”

“Fuck you. I’m going to take a piss.”

“Great. Tell Riley I said hi.”

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

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

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

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

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

Not CEO money.

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

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

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

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

“I said I’m fine!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The guy reached out and grabbed her arm.

She flinched away.

Oh hell no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“But, Riley—”

“We have nothing to talk about, Nick!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why would I be jealous?”

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

“I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah? Really?”

“Yeah, really!”

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

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

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

“So?”

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

“Oh.”

“Yeah…oh!”

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

“What?”

“I mean….if you want me to.”

“I…”

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

“You don’t?”

Did she sound hopeful?

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

Except with you.

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

“So, we’re good?”

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

“Okay, good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?”

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

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

Drake kept quiet but his foot started tapping nervously.

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

“Ah…”

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

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Come on, what else?”

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

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

“Why does this make you so happy?”

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

“It’s not even a real date.”

“Sure it’s not.”

“It’s not!”

“Does she know that?”

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

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

“Yeah…so?”

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

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

He was absolutely a goner.

And he was going to have to buy a suit.

Shit.

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

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justcallmefox89 · 5 months

Text

Cinderfella's Adventures in Cordonia - Chapter Nineteen

An AU of The Royal Romance with a male MC and a bisexual prince.

Masterlist

Liam finally faces the consequences of his actions.

Drake and Liam jump, startled by the stranger’s sudden appearance. They had been so engrossed in their conversation that hadn’t even heard the door to the apartment open. Deep green eyes study the pair intently as the stranger makes his way towards Callum’s abandoned chair. He sits back in the chair with fluid grace, neatly straightening his charcoal colored suit and crossing his legs, not a strand of silver hair out of place.

“Now,” the stranger begins pleasantly as he adjusts the cuffs of his suit jacket. He gaze zeros in on the two younger men, intense and predatory. “I would like to have a small chat with the two of you about my son.”

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

I exit the Uber, expecting to see firetrucks, flashing lights, EMTs, and a parade of pissed off clubgoers. Instead I see a long line of mildly impatient twenty-somethings waiting for the pair of bouncers at the doors to card them and adorn their hands with a UV stamp so they can enter.

He lied to me?

“Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” A husky voice floats out from the shadows, quickly followed by a handsome man in a brown leather jacket.

“Wasn’t expecting to be here,” I respond, smiling briefly. “But Pops text me; said there was an emergency situation here and an owner was needed on-site.”

Jax Matsuo’s brown eyes glitter as he smirks and makes a show of peeking around me to study the semi-orderly line that snakes around the building. “Well, everything seems to be in order. You wanna get out of here?”

Someone calls my name, saving me from giving my occasional friend with numerous benefits an awkward answer of why I can’t invite him over to my place and let him fuck me into my mattress like I usually do on Friday nights.

“Callum!” Donny yells at me from his illegally parked car, motioning for me to come over.

“Another time maybe.” Jax gives me a brief kiss, then meanders over to the club doors, joining the line of people waiting to be let in.

I jog over to the car, sliding into the passenger seat. I barely have time to buckle my seatbelt before Donny rockets into the flow of traffic, heading in the direction of our apartment building.

“What’s going on?”

“You never should have left those two in your apartment,” he mutters, simultaneously jerking the wheel hard to the right and flipping off some poor soul in the bike lane.

Spidey senses activate.

“Donny… what’s going on?”

“You father decided to pay your little boyfriends a visit.”

“What the fu-”

“Ioan’s with him.”

Pure fear rockets through me. “Drive faster!”

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

Drake and Liam exchange a worried glance, each one slightly afraid to speak.

A wheezy laugh catches everyone’s attention as an elderly man saunters out of the kitchen, leaning heavily on a cane, sugar cookie in his free hand. “Good job, Niall. Now do your Batman voice and really scare the shite out of these boys.”

“Christ almighty, Da.” Callum’s father closes his eyes and exhales heavily, massaging his forehead with the tips of his fingers. “I thought Donny was going to take you home.”

“I decided to come help you instead.”

“So help me and go home, you wrinkled menace to society.”

The old man rolls his eyes and slowly walks to the empty recliner. “You’ve gotten so tetchy since your last birthday, Niall. I swear, the closer you get to sixty the crankier you get.”

Liam giggles nervously, but quiets instantly when Niall shoots him a nasty look. Callum’s grandfather settles into his chair, shifting this way and that until he’s fully comfortable.

“Go on, son. Introduce me and then say whatever it is you want to say,” he commands, waving his hand imperiously.

Niall sighs heavily and tips his head back, closing his eyes and no doubt praying for the patience to keep from throttling his father. He opens his eyes, emerald gaze falling directly on Liam. “I’m Niall, Callum’s father. And this living museum artefact is Callum’s grandfather, Ioan.”

“Nice to meet you,” Drake and Liam mumble in unison.

“You know, my very first job was in Boston. At a fish market. I didn’t move to New York until a few years later,” Ioan suddenly muses, apropos of nothing. “What is it that you two boys do again?”

“Oh um.” Liam nervously clears his throat. “I am the king of Cordonia, Mr. MacKenzie. Sir.”

“That’s right,” Ioan murmurs, stroking his thumb over his lower lip the way Callum does when he’s thinking. “You’re the one who made my grandson compete.”

Liam pales. “It wasn’t… I mean… I didn’t personally make him compete, no.”

Ioan gazes sharpens and he raises one silver eyebrow. “Oh?”

“It’s Cordonian tradition,” Liam sputters. “There are standards one must meet before they can become the spouse of a king and -”

“Are you saying my grandson isn’t up to your standards, young man?”

“My standards and Cordonia’s standards are two separate things, Mr. MacKenzie. Callum is lovely, but my future spouse must be approved by both the Cordonian council and the public,” Liam rushes to explain, falling directly into Ioan’s trap.

“So you encouraged Callum to play a losing game?”

Liam makes a strangled noise and shoots Drake a look of pure terror, silently begging him to step in. Drake shrugs, quietly gleeful at Ioan’s interrogation of Liam.

“Drake, isn’t it? What do you do for work?” Niall’s green eyes, just a few shades lighter than Callum’s, pierce Drake with their intensity.

“I- um,” Drake falters while Liam hides his snickering behind his hand.

“Yes?” Niall prompts.

“I… help Liam?”

Niall looks unimpressed. “In what capacity exactly?”

“With- uh… whatever he needs?” Drake shrugs helplessly.

“So you’re a professional friend then? Are you paid for your time and services?”

Ioan chuckles. “Maybe he gets paid the same way you pay Donny for his ‘services’.”

“Da!” Niall’s voice pitches higher for a moment and a faint pink colors his cheeks, before he scowls and returns his attention to the two young men on the couch. “Why are you here?”

“Here as in…?” Liam ventures carefully.

Niall’s right eye gives a barely perceptible twitch. “As in my son’s apartment. As in the building that I own. As in this city. As in this state. As in this fucking country. So I repeat myself, which I truly hate to do. Why. Are. You. Here.”

Liam frowns and straightens his spine, annoyed by the other man’s tone. “New York is the final stop on my engagement tour. An international engagement tour. It’s not as if I picked this city solely because Callum lives here.”

“Any yet…” Ioan murmurs, pointedly gazing around the apartment. “Here you are. In Callum’s home.”

“When you’re engaged to someone else.” Niall’s gaze flicks over Liam, studying him, and he frowns, as if finding the young king lacking. He glance over at Drake. “I still don’t quite understand your part in all of this though.”

Drake guiltily avoids Niall’s gaze, picking at a small hole in his jeans. “Some of this is my fault,” he admits in a small voice. “I encouraged Callum to meet up with Liam. To talk.”

Any pretense of civility leaves Niall in that instant. “I don’t know what either one of you could possibly have to say to my son that has any value at all, and to be frank, I don’t care. Get out of this apartment. Go back to Cordonia. And never speak to Callum again.”

“With all due respect,” Liam begins.

Drake closes his eyes and braces himself for the inevitable fallout that always follows any statement that begins with ‘With all due respect’.”

“Just because you’re his father doesn’t give you any right to dictate who Callum does or does not speak to,” Liam continues indignantly. “He’s a grown man. He doesn’t need you to interfere in his personal affairs.”

“And yet you allow your father to interfere in yours,” Ioan murmurs, studying his fingernails. “I’ve always found hypocrisy so interesting.”

Liam falls silent, red-faced and fuming.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Your Highness,” Niall snarls. “Callum loves too deeply, cares too much when he shouldn’t care at all. I’ve seen my son broken before, held him while he cried over some boy. I watched him go to prison for five years when he was innocent, to protect someone who probably never really loved him. I was just starting to get my Callum back, my son who used to laugh and joke and come over for Sunday dinners and to watch football. And then you came along.”

Niall fairly spits the word ‘you’, so intense is his anger.

“A few weeks with you and he comes back to New York a broken shell. I held my son as he cried over another boy who didn’t deserve him. Do you have any idea how many nights he cried for you? Of course you don’t. You moved on with your life and got engaged as if he never mattered. My son was barely a blip on your radar. I had to pick up the pieces you left behind. I had to coax him to eat when all he would do is lay on that fucking couch and stare at the wall. I was the one who got him to shower, to get dressed, and go to the therapist I arranged for him to see. I was the one who encouraged him to start working, to leave this apartment and start interacting with people again.”

Liam’s eyes never leave Niall; he stares at the older man as if he’d been struck, the full implication of how his actions had hurt Callum hitting him for the first time.

“And yet, he’s still in love with you. He misses you every single day, and you being here is only dragging out his pain. You’re going to leave him again, go back to your pretty little castle and get married, have children. And he’s still going to be here. Alone and mourning the future he should have had with you. Just leave… quit tormenting him with hope, with thoughts of a future you never intend to give him.”

“I… I never meant… I…” Liam looks helplessly to Drake for assistance, to help him explain the rolling turmoil of emotions stealing his words and the air from his lungs.

“Stop. Talking.” For the first time that night Ioan raises his voice. “You’re going to leave and never speak to my grandson again. As far as you’re concerned he no long exists. You ever attempt to contact him, even once, and I will gut you like the spineless sack of shite you are.”

The old man’s eyes are flinty, the cold, pale blue of them startling in it’s intensity. Drake has no doubt that he means every word he just said.

“Pops! Grandda!”

All four men turn their heads towards the sound of a door slamming and footsteps pounding against the hardwood floor. Callum skids to a stop in the living room, studying the impromptu gathering warily.

“What’s going on?”

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sfb123 · 1 year

Text

Christmas in Cordonia - Part 1

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x Riley

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Summary: Liam and Riley celebrate Eleanor's first Christmas.

Rating: G (one curse word, and a fair amount of angst, but other than that, it's fun for all ages!)

Word Count: 1,072

I am participating in @choicesflashfics holiday prompts. The prompt Tis the season will appear in bold below.

A/N: This was a story that I started as a one shot last year, but was never going to finish in time for Christmas, so I tabled it. When I found out about the Flash Fics holiday prompts, I decided to dust it off and revisit. It quickly went from a one shot to a mini-series. The plan is to release once a week until Christmas, so I hope you enjoy!

A/N 2: Thank you, as always, to @txemrn for pre-reading! 😘

Riley put the finishing touches on her makeup, trying to get herself mentally prepared to lock away her emotions for the evening. She needed to tap into her lessons on stoicism tonight to be the perfect hostess and queen.

It was Christmas Eve, and she and Liam were hosting a ball for the court. It was her second Christmas as Queen of Cordonia, but more importantly, her first Christmas as a mother. She thought back to the past year, and all of the struggles they had faced bringing Eleanor into the world. From the second Liam and Riley had returned from their honeymoon, it was one hurdle or complication after another. Culminating with one of their most difficult challenges to date, a forced betrothal contract with Auvernal; a contract that they spent the first several months of their daughter’s life trying to get out of.

After an arduous battle, they were finally successful in severing ties with Auvernal, but at a personal cost to Riley, who had gone nearly a year without seeing her family. Eleanor was five months old, and she hadn’t even met her grandparents. They were supposed to fly out to be there for the birth, but she went into labor earlier than planned; and between the battle with Auvernal, and the search for Godfrey, everyone agreed that it would be safer for them to postpone their visit until things had been resolved. Now, it was Christmas, and the royal family had obligations that would keep them in Cordonia through January.

Riley felt a single tear break out and roll down her cheek. “Fuck,” she groaned, throwing her makeup brush on the table. She picked up a tissue, trying to salvage the work she had done to look presentable, even though this ball was the last thing she wanted to do. Riley knew that marrying Liam came with certain responsibilities and obligations, and that she wouldn’t be able to spend much time with her family, but this is the longest she had gone without seeing them, and having Eleanor made it even more difficult.

When she dreamed of having children, it always included her family. Birthday parties, holidays, random get togethers for occasions that only made sense to them. Now here she was, a mother, and her family had only seen her baby in pictures and through video chats. She loved her life in Cordonia, but it had been an adjustment to get used to the distance from home.

“Riley, Eleanor is dressed. Are you ready to go?” Her husband’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she turned to him as she blotted away a makeup smudge from her cheek.

“Yeah, sorry. I just need a couple of minutes.”

Liam instantly saw that his wife was upset and rushed to her side. “Love, what’s wrong?”

She turned back to the mirror, adding some blush to her cheeks as she watched her husband’s concerned expression through the mirror. “Nothing, I’m fine. You know, I just get extra emotional around the holidays. Tis the season, I guess.”

Liam placed his hand on Riley’s arm and turned her so that she was facing him. “Riley, talk to me. I know it’s more than that, and I can’t help you until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s stupid, it’s nothing.” She dropped her gaze to the floor, but Liam immediately placed a finger under her chin, lifting her face to meet his stern expression. She let out a deep breath. “Fine, I just… I had a very specific vision my whole life of my child’s first Christmas. And I knew that marrying you would change that vision, that Eleanor wasn’t going to get to go to Grampy’s house on Christmas day and open presents in the same living room I did when I was a kid. And I’m totally fine with that; I don’t want you to think I regret being here… or being with you. At all. I just figured that my family would have at least gotten a chance to meet her by now.” She felt the tears threatening to fall again.

Liam wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “Oh Riley, I’m so sorry, love.” He kissed the top of her head as his hand ran up and down her back, trying to soothe her. “I promise you, Eleanor will get to meet them very, very soon.”

They stayed like that for a few moments, giving Riley a chance to release her emotions. When she pulled back she noticed the time on the clock behind Liam. “Oh crap, we’re late. And now I have to re-do my makeup, and I’m not even dressed yet. I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” Liam cupped her face in his hands and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “We are the king and queen; we are never late. Everyone else is just early.” He winked at her, and she chuckled in response. “Take all the time you need. I will be in the living room with Eleanor when you’re ready.” He brought her hand up, kissing the back of it. She smiled gratefully at him, and he left her to get ready.

While Riley touched up her makeup and got dressed, Liam sat holding his daughter in one arm, sending out a few text messages with his free hand. He turned toward the hallway when he heard a throat clear. His eyes went wide as he rose to his feet, sliding his phone into his pocket. “Riley, you look…”

“It’s okay?” Riley spun in a circle to show off the sequin red, off the shoulder ball gown that she had paired with an emerald necklace.

“Riley, I am at a loss for words. You look beyond stunning.” He approached her, taking her hand and lifting it, coaxing her into an encore spin so that he could admire her beauty once more before he had to share her with the rest of the court.

“Shall we?” Riley asked, taking Eleanor out of Liam’s arms and looking her over to make sure she was ready to go. “Look at that, and you didn’t even put her dress on backwards or anything. You’re really starting to get the hang of this whole dad thing,” she teased before kissing her daughter’s cheek and holding her close.

“That was one time,” Liam protested. He offered his arm, Riley looped hers through it, and they made their way downstairs.

Permatag:

TRR:

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

Liam:

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

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ao719 · 3 months

Text

Best Kept Secrets

Best Kept Secrets - Maybe We’ll Get It Right (Chapter 18)

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

Summary: An unforeseen encounter with the past proves that even the best-kept secrets eventually make their way into the light.

Title inspiration: Hold On Tight - Forest Blakk

Book/Pairing: TRR; Liam x F!OC

A/N: Thank you to @burnsoslow for prereading most of this. Please excuse any errors.

Rating: M • Warning: This series will contain NSFW material. If you read, you acknowledge you are 18+

Catch up here

Standing in her bedroom inside the north wing, Amara stared at her reflection in the floor-length mirror. She scanned over her outfit before meeting her own anxious gaze; she took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to settle her nerves.

Today would be Amara’s and Liam’s first public outing with Sophia since the statement had been given. It would be the first time the press would not only catch a glimpse of the heir but see the three of them together … as a family. She knew that the purpose behind the outing was to show the public that their King had moved beyond her betrayal and that they were putting the past behind them for the sake of their child. It was all in hopes of shifting the negative attention she was receiving and showing her in a more favorable light.

Amara was nervous, however. One would think she would find this to be fairly simple; working the press to change public perception was literally her job, but it was much different being the one whose image you’re trying to change their perception of. She wouldn’t be working her PR magic behind the scenes because she was the one under the microscope. She knew her every move was going to be picked apart, questioned, and, at times, manipulated to fit whatever narrative they were attempting to paint of her. Whatever they felt was going to sell a story was what they were going to try and sell, truth or not.

Despite knowing this was something they needed to try, Amara had second-guessed the decision since Daniel suggested it; they’d given themselves an extra week behind the palace walls to prepare, but she felt anything but because she couldn’t get out of her own head. She didn’t want her presence during these planned outings to make things even more difficult for Liam than she’d already made them.

However, when Amara subtly brought up the concern, Liam didn’t seem all too phased. They planned to spend the day on the private beach, and he reminded her that while, yes, the press was sure to be camped out nearby, they would still be far enough away so they’d be able to enjoy their day together with Sophia and that he was looking forward to spending the day out … with both of them. He seemed to be treating it as both a casual and normal outing and not one that was planned with a purpose.

Amara wasn’t reading too much into what he’d said, however, seeing his words for exactly what they were. She knew it was nothing more than his way of trying to make her feel more relaxed because he could sense that she was on edge about it. To think he meant anything beyond that was pointless. Despite her feelings for him, she’d forced herself to face reality over the last month and a half, a reality where she knew that any chance she might have had at continuing to rekindle things between them was long gone. After what she’d done, he’d never give her a second chance, and she didn’t deserve one. Her feelings for him didn’t matter and didn’t mean anything to anyone but her, so she shoved them into a box and pushed any notion of them being anything more than co-parents as far down as she could. It hurt, of course, but it was the consequences of her actions. And she’d suffer in silence because she wasn’t going to let those feelings get in the way of his and Sophia’s relationship.

A knock on the door pulled Amara’s attention, and she gave herself one last glance in the mirror before turning and exiting her bedroom. When she opened the door, she smiled at Sophia, who was giving her signature toothy grin.

“Mama!”

“Hi, baby,” Amara chuckled as she took her from Liam’s arms when she leaned over to her. She kissed her cheek as she ran her hand over her head of blonde hair.

“Morning,” Liam said.

Amara offered him a tentative smile. “Morning.” She stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind her. “I have her stuff ready. I’ll just go get her changed real quick.”

Liam nodded and watched the two of them disappear down the hall, listening to Sophia babble and Amara laugh, smiling as he sat down in the living area to wait. He drummed his fingers against his thighs, wondering what the day was going to bring.

They would be spending the day at the private beach, and while he knew it would be accessible to the press, it would keep them far enough away so they wouldn’t be too overbearing. They couldn’t go out in public and make it obvious that they were putting on a show for the cameras.

Truthfully … it wasn’t about the cameras for Liam nor was it a show. Yes, he was doing this as a way to hopefully shift the narrative surrounding Amara, and he was looking forward to finally taking Sophia beyond the palace walls, but it was more than that for him. He wanted to spend the day out with Amara, too.

Over the last month and a half since everything had happened, one of the things he struggled with most was his feelings for Amara. At first, those feelings were suffocated by anger and resentment, but once he forced himself to let go of those emotions for the sake of moving forward, they came back tenfold. Now that he’d been spending every day with her the past two weeks, practically playing house inside the palace with her and Sophia … the three of them, together, as a family … everything he felt before seemed amplified. His feelings began to consume him, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to continue to shove them aside. And maybe he shouldn’t. He’d been trying to do what was best for Sophia, but perhaps what was best for her was the very thing he’d been trying to ignore.

Liam had a couple of reservations, however, and they seemed to be the one thing holding him back.

The first reservation was trust. No matter which way Liam looked at the situation, he’d been betrayed. Did he now understand the place in which Amara was coming from? A little. He’d allowed himself to see things from her perspective, and he understood her headspace at the time. It didn’t change the fact that he was still lied to and kept in the dark about something as important as the existence of his child. Were there other secrets she was keeping? He didn’t know. And he didn’t know if he could trust her to not keep more in the future.

The second reservation was fear. Twice now Liam had tried to make things work between them, and he was left broken both times. They say the third time’s the charm, but this was something that now went beyond just him. If they tried again and they failed a third time, not only would it affect him but Sophia as well. He and Amara had a knack for being unable to get their stars to align. Could he really risk Sophia being collateral damage in a game he wasn’t sure he would ever win?

“Dada!”

Sophia’s squeal pulled Liam from his thoughts. He glanced over and a laugh bubbled out of him at the sight of her toddling towards him in a white cover-up that concealed her bright pink bathing suit, tiny aviators, and a floppy white sun hat. “Look at you looking like a little beachy princess,” he chuckled as he scooped her into his arms. “Are you ready for our day at the beach?” Sophia nodded with a clap of her hands. “Is mommy ready?”

They both looked at Amara at the same time, and she forced a smile. “I’m ready.”

****

When Bastien pulled into the private parking lot of the beach, Amara turned her face away from the window, shielding her eyes from the flashes of the cameras. The press had been camped outside of the gate when they left the palace and had followed them. Having spent so much time tracking the royal family’s movements, it didn’t take them long to realize where they were headed; they raced ahead so they were there waiting when they arrived.

When Liam exited the vehicle, the press, who were contained behind another gate where two more guards stood to ensure they didn’t cross, began shouting his name. He turned and tossed his hand up in a wave as they snapped photos before turning back toward the vehicle.

Liam met Amara’s gaze as she finished unbuckling Sophia from her car seat. “Here we go …”

Liam lifted Sophia from her seat and into the safety of his arms, and when he pulled her from the vehicle, the frenzy ensued. The press shouted louder as the shutters from their cameras went off. Sophia turned her head toward the clamor as her grip on his shirt tightened. “It’s ok, little love,” he whispered.

Occupied by their first glimpses of the princess, the press almost missed the moment Amara came into view. Almost. The moment they noticed her, more shouts ensued as their cameras continued to snap photos.

“Why is she with you, King Liam?”

“Anything to say about your betrayal to the King, Ms. Onasis?”

“Will she be leaving Cordonia soon?”

“Will the Princess be staying?”

Amara turned so her back was toward them and inhaled a deep breath. She felt Liam’s hand on her shoulder a moment later and looked up at him; he gestured toward the path that led to the beach and she nodded before starting toward it.

Once down on the beach, Amara set the bag she’d packed beside one of the chairs that were set up beneath an umbrella. She glanced around, taking in the silence, feeling a little more at ease, but only for a moment before she saw the press hurrying toward the edge of the barrier. The guards were already in place, ensuring they stayed on the other side, and they were far enough away where they wouldn’t be a bother, but just knowing they were there at all had her right back on edge.

“Did you hear me?”

Amara snapped her gaze to Liam. “No. I’m sorry … what did you say?”

“Sunscreen?” Liam pointed to Sophia.

“Yeah.” Amara shook her head and crouched down next to the bag, pulling out the sunscreen she’d packed for her.

Liam set Sophia down on the chair, and Amara removed her tiny cover-up before smothering her in sunscreen. Once she was finished, she stood and turned to see a now shirtless Liam setting up the toys he’d brought on the massive beach blanket that was laid out for them; he’d slipped inside the tent just behind their chairs to change. She turned away from him and closed her eyes; between the press and him, her mind was jumbled.

“Ready?” Liam’s voice sounded from behind her, and she turned, but he was speaking to Sophia. He scooped her up and set her on the edge of the blanket so she could reach the sand before laying on his side next to her.

Amara stood and stared at the two of them as they played. Then her gaze flickered to the edge of the beach where the press remained, continuing to snap photos. She couldn’t help but wonder what story they were going to try and spin from this.

“Are you going to join us?” Liam asked.

Amara looked back at him. “Uh … yeah.” She kicked off her flip-flops before reaching down and grabbing the hem of her cover-up to remove it but froze as her eyes lifted to the press again. She casually brushed her hand against the fabric of the cover-up as she moved toward the blanket and sat down on the other side of Sophia.

Liam looked up at her, squinting against the bright sun. “Did you not bring a suit?” he asked, gesturing to her cover-up that was still on.

“I’m … I’m fine right now,” Amara lied as she looked out at the water. She wasn’t fine.

Under the heat of the Mediterranean sun and the watchful eyes of the press, Amara was hot and flustered … but she didn’t want to take off the cover-up, afraid of what story the press would spin from it. Would they say she was trying to seduce him into forgiveness by flouncing around in a bikini? Would they criticize her for said bikini because she was the mother of the heir and not setting the example they thought she should? Hell, she was afraid to even look at Liam for a second too long, knowing what type of story one photo of that could paint.

Liam stared at Amara as she gazed out at the water. He knew something was bothering her and he didn’t have to ask what it was. She’d been on edge the past week since they planned this first outing, and when he saw her this morning, he knew she hadn’t eased up. It was easy for him to ignore the presence of the press because he’d grown up with it and learned to drown them out a long time ago. Amara, however, wasn’t used to being on this side of things. On top of that, she was consumed by how her presence would rub off on him and Sophia and worried what stories would be in the papers the next morning. Because of that, she was being careful. Too careful, considering she wouldn’t even remove her cover-up.

“Amara,” Liam said, and she glanced at him. “Relax.”

“I am relaxed.”

Liam snorted. “No, you’re not.” She dropped his gaze and bit her lip self-consciously. “Hey, look at me,” he whispered, but she shook her head. “Look at me.” She hesitated another moment before glancing up. “Don’t pay them any mind. It’s just you and me here, ok? Just us.”

Amara held his gaze. He knew exactly what was running through her mind without her having to say a word. And she felt the sincerity behind his words from the way he looked at her. But she needed to defuse the situation before her stupid heart took any of it to mean something more than it really did. “And Soph,” she quipped.

“Yes,” Liam shook his head with a small smile. “But you know what I meant.” With Sophia occupied with filling her bucket full of sand one small scoop at a time, he laid on his back, tucking his arms under his head as he closed his eyes. “Take off the damn cover-up and enjoy yourself.”

Liam heard her let out a quiet chuckle, and after another beat of silence, he could hear the quiet shift of the fabric against her skin. He opened one eye and inconspicuously slid it in her direction; his chest tightened at the sight of her body in the navy blue bikini before he quickly snapped the eye shut.

****

That night, Liam and Amara put Sophia to bed inside her room in the north wing. They’d spent the entire day at the beach, playing in the water and lounging on the shore. Once they returned to the palace, she’d taken a bath, and barely made it through dinner before she passed out in Liam’s arms.

The press had watched them the entire day, but Amara took Liam’s advice and ignored them as best as she could. She knew she had to come to terms with the fact that they were going to write what they wanted and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it except suck it up and deal with it.

They quietly shut Sophia’s door behind them before creeping down the hall, stopping in front of the living area. “She racked out,” Liam quietly chuckled.

Amara smiled as she leaned against the entryway, crossing her arms and tucking her hands beneath them. “She had fun today.”

“Minus the evil wave,” Liam quietly laughed.

Amara jutted her lip out in a pout before bowing her head and covering her mouth with her hand to contain her laugh at the memory of the wave that washed away the sandcastle they’d helped Sophia build. She was not happy, and her extreme meltdown over the loss was when they knew it was probably time to pack it up and leave.

“I thought she was going to try and kick that wave’s ass,” Liam chuckled.

Amara snorted against her palm before looking back up at him, and when she did, a strand of her hair caught on her eyelashes. Instinctively, Liam reached up to brush it away.

The air suddenly felt very thick as they stared at each other and both their smiles slowly faded.

Snapping from his momentary daze, Liam quickly dropped his hand. “Uh … sorry. You had — your hair, I mean … it was …” He trailed off and blew out a breath.

Amara continued to stare at him, feeling a bit bemused as her heart and mind argued over what just happened and what it meant. Nothing, she told herself. It was nothing. “Yeah … uh, thanks.”

“Well … I should probably …” Liam gestured over his shoulder to the door. “I have sand in places where there shouldn’t be sand and need to shower,” he chuckled, earning a laugh from her. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’ll let you know when she’s up so we can meet for breakfast.”

“Sounds good.”

Liam leaned down and kissed her cheek, letting it linger a heartbeat longer than normal before he drew back; he met her gaze for a split second before he turned and opened the door, quickly disappearing into the hall.

*******

Sitting inside his study, Liam read over an article from Trend magazine, detailing his and Amara’s outing over the past weekend in Applewood; he was needed there to go over a proposal to expand the orchids and invited Amara to bring Sophia. The article had several photos printed beside it, each one from a distance; a few of him and Sophia as they walked through the orchids, some of just her, and a few of the three of them together.

It had been nearly a month since that first outing at the beach, and the many they had after seemed to be doing the job they were intended to do. Most of the press — Trend being one — had done exactly what Daniel had said and followed his lead, looking beyond the past and focusing on the here and now. A few remained skeptical, however, questioning Amara’s motives for remaining in Cordonia and her intentions going forward. They didn’t know that she’d already decided to stay because he had yet to make a public statement. He knew he would need to make one soon, though; he’d spoken to Daniel, who told him the next step would be for the people to hear directly from him since they hadn’t at all since Sophia’s existence had been made public nearly two months ago.

Liam was happy to know that things with the press were starting to settle down. What wasn’t settling down were his feelings for Amara. Each night after they would put Sophia to bed, the length of time they lingered behind got longer. They went from a few moments of simple conversation to now talking over drinks or a late-night snack about their day and making plans for the next. They had gotten closer and had fallen back into a place where things didn’t feel so tense.

It was comfortable.

It was familiar.

Every day they spent together chipped away at those reservations Liam had and drew out his feelings even more. And every day he came closer and closer to throwing caution to the wind and taking that leap.

Hearing a knock on his study door, Liam called for them to enter; when it opened, he lifted his gaze from the magazine article just as Amara stepped inside with Sophia.

“Dada!”

“Hi, little love,” Liam grinned as he stood and walked around his desk; he crouched down as she toddled toward him and he scooped her into his arms, smothering a mix of playful kisses and raspberries against her cheeks as she giggled.

“Hope we’re not interrupting anything,” Amara said.

Liam situated Sophia on his hip. “Not at all,” he replied before leaning forward to kiss her cheek; his hand brushed down the length of her arm as he drew back. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I wanted to come talk to you.”

“About?”

“I’m going to have to make a trip to New York.”

Liam looked at her. “Oh?”

“My lease is up at the end of the month,” Amara explained. “I’ve been putting it off, hoping to have found a place beforehand, but that hasn’t happened yet.”

Despite the surprise her words gave him, Liam kept his expression impassive. “I hadn’t realized you’d been looking.”

“Well, I haven’t … not really, I mean. I’ve perused some listings, but I’m still weighing my options between renting or buying and haven’t made a decision yet. But I can’t put off packing up my apartment any longer since I only have a couple of weeks. And I’ll have to clear out my office space as well.”

Liam nodded. “Ok. Are you thinking this weekend, or …?”

“I wanted to check with you first,” Amara said. “I didn’t know if you had anything going on, and I figured you’d want Soph to stay here with you.”

Liam thought for a moment as he glanced at Sophia; he scrunched his nose with a smile when she offered him one of her toothy grins. “How about we go together?”

Amara’s brows rose in surprise. “You … you want to go?”

“Sure,” Liam shrugged as he looked back at her. “Let Imogen know, and we can leave Friday and take the weekend … get it all done in one shot so you don’t have to worry about going back for anything. There’s plenty of room on the jet to store whatever you need to bring back with you.”

Amara stared at him for a moment. “If you’re sure …”

“I am,” Liam smiled. “I’ll have Bastien make arrangements.”

*******

A few mornings later, the SUV pulled up on the tarmac, stopping alongside the waiting jet. Liam glanced out the window at the press that were huddled together on the other side of a barrier.

“How did they know we would be here?” Amara asked.

Liam sighed with a shrug. “They always manage to find things out one way or another.” He looked over to where she sat on the other side of Sophia’s car seat. “Get her on the jet. I’ll handle them.”

Amara nodded and unbuckled Sophia’s straps before lifting her out of the seat. A guard opened the door and she and Imogen slid out; she ignored the volley of shouted questions from the press as she carried Sophia up the stairs and disappeared inside the jet.

“Sir?” Bastien said from the driver’s seat.

Liam looked up, meeting his gaze in the rearview mirror as the other two guards took their luggage and Sophia’s car seat to the jet. “I’ll talk to them.”

Bastien nodded before getting out and opening Liam’s door. When the King came into view, the press shouted at him; he was a picture of calm as he buttoned his suit jacket and made his way toward the crowd.

“King Liam, where are you headed?” Donnie Brine from the CBC asked as Liam neared.

“I’ll be in New York for a few days,” Liam answered.

Another slew of shouted questions ensued, and they were all asking the same thing in various ways: is Amara leaving with Sophia? Thinking back on his several conversations with Daniel over the past couple of weeks, and knowing he could use this as an opportunity to put any more doubts about her intentions to rest, he decided to be transparent.

Liam held up his hand to quiet them, and once he had their attention, he cleared his throat. “We’re headed to New York for the weekend to pack up Ms. Onasis’ belongings as she will be staying in Cordonia permanently so that I may continue to maintain a relationship with our daughter.”

More questions were immediately volleyed, but one in particular had caught his attention.

“Are you concerned she’ll try to leave again with the princess?”

Liam sighed, knowing they were referring to what was mentioned in Daniel’s statement. “The circumstances surrounding Ms. Onasis trying to leave in the past were entirely different.”

“Can you elaborate?” a reporter asked, holding their recorder out in front of him.

Transparency, he reminded himself. “Ms. Onasis had been spooked by the betrothal aspect of the alliance that Auvernal had been pushing for. When she learned of the blackmail threat, she became frightened of what that meant for our daughter, and in a moment of panic, yes, she tried to leave. But as a mother, she was trying to protect her child … and that’s not something I can or will fault her for. As for the move … she’s uprooting her entire life to ensure that the princess and I stay together, and I’m extremely grateful that she’s so willing to do that.”

The reporters stared at Liam in a bout of awed silence, and a heartbeat later, they were shouting more questions.

“Will they be staying with you at the palace?”

“What’s the status of your relationship with Ms. Onasis?”

“Are you rekindling your romance?”

They’d changed their tune so fast, it gave Liam whiplash. He let out a breath, feeling a bit lighter, but decided he wasn’t answering any more questions. He didn’t really have the answers at the moment anyway. He threw his hand up in a wave before turning and heading towards the jet.

****

After the long flight and traffic-jammed ride from the airport, Liam and Amara arrived at their hotel in New York that afternoon; they’d planned to arrive early enough to leave them time for Sophia to hopefully nap off the jet lag.

Once Sophia was asleep in the guest room of the suite, Liam sent Imogen to her own room that was situated across the hall to rest. He plopped onto the sofa in the living area while Amara stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, taking in the view.

“Have you missed it?” Liam asked.

Amara shrugged. “Certain things, like pizza and breakfast bagels, yes,” she chuckled. “But other than that … not particularly, no.”

Liam stood and came next to her. “Where’s your apartment from here?”

“About 15 minutes that way,” Amara pointed. “It’s in Tribeca.” They were at the Millennium in lower Manhattan. “And my office is only a block from there.”

“Have you made any decisions regarding your company and what you plan to do?”

“Not yet,” Amara shook her head. “We’re on a bit of a pause at the moment until I figure things out. Daniel hasn’t decided whether he’s staying yet, but with both Riley and I now there and him not having anything tying him down here …” She shrugged. “But I could still run the company from there and set up an office … or I could sell it …”

“You’d really consider selling it?”

“If that’s what needs to be done … yes,” Amara answered. And I know a couple of competitors that would probably be more than willing to take it off my hands.”

Liam leaned against the window frame as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “You seem pretty content for someone giving up so much of themself on a whim.”

Amara looked back out the window. “I wouldn’t say it’s on a whim.”

Liam’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean …” Amara paused, taking in a breath and slowly letting it out. “I mean that all of this was stuff I’ve thought about from the moment I found out I was pregnant.” She tucked her hands beneath her arms as she fought against the urge to look at him. “I always thought about the what-ifs … and I planned out all these different scenarios in my head for the day I finally drummed up enough courage to … to tell you. And in all of those scenarios, the outcome was the same … I was leaving New York, and either running the company from where I was or selling it. Now that I think about it … it was never really a what-if, but more of a when.”

Liam remained silent for a moment before speaking. “I just … I don’t want this move to be something you come to regret later on.”

“It’s for you and Sophia.” Amara looked up at him again. “I would never regret it.”

Liam stared at her, not having realized until that moment how close they’d shifted to one another, and he saw the moment she realized it, too. Her gaze was both hesitant and questioning, but then she looked away from him and took a step back.

“Um … I think I’m going to nap while Sophia is.”

“Yeah.” Liam cleared his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh … I’m actually not that tired, so I can listen for her if you want to go lay down in the master.” He’d already offered for her to take the bigger of the two rooms.

“Ok,” Amara nodded.

Liam watched Amara turn and heard her let out a breath as she disappeared inside the room.

*******

The following morning, Liam and Amara headed over to her apartment while Imogen stayed with Sophia at the hotel. Liam had arranged for a moving company to meet them there to take the boxes she would be bringing back and load them on the jet. From what she’d told him, most of it would consist of her and Sophia’s clothes. Anything she didn’t need, she planned to throw out or donate.

When they pulled up outside of the tall brick building, Liam slid out before turning to help Amara out. They greeted the staff of the moving company that was already there waiting before heading inside.

After riding the elevator up to the seventh floor, they stepped out, and Liam followed Amara down the hall. She paused in front of a door and unlocked it, and when she pushed it open and stepped inside, he followed.

Liam glanced around as he moved further inside. He’d never seen her apartment, but it was exactly what he pictured her having. Casual with a touch of modern sophistication. “This is nice.”

Amara looked around fondly; she’d always loved her apartment. “Thanks.”

“Where should we start, Miss?” a voice spoke from the doorway.

Amara turned to the movers lingering in the hall. “Uh …” She glanced around. “Living room and kitchen.” She then looked at Liam. “We can get started on Sophia’s room and then mine.”

“Lead the way,” Liam gestured.

****

Within a couple of hours, most of the apartment had been boxed up. While the movers carried boxes from the kitchen, living room, and Sophia’s room down to the truck, Liam and Amara finished up in her room.

“I’m going to take this out,” Amara said when she finished taping the last box of her shoes shut.

Liam nodded. “I’ll bring the nightstand out for you.”

“Thank you,” Amara replied before pushing the box out the door and down the hall.

Turning to the nightstand next to the bed, Liam reached down and hooked his fingers under the lip of the top. He lifted it, and when he realized it was heavier than he anticipated, he tilted it to adjust his hold; the movement caused the drawer to slide out of it and crash to the floor.

“Shit.”

Liam set the nightstand back down before kneeling to pick up the contents from the drawer now scattered on the floor. As he scooped up the items, something caught his eye, and he froze as he stared at it. A photo. He reached down and grabbed it, bringing it closer, only to notice another beneath it. And they weren’t just any photos, but ones of him and Amara. He remembered the night the one he held in his hand was taken. They were watching a movie in his quarters and were on the sofa; she was resting back against his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around her and his face was playfully nuzzling her neck with a grin as she smiled. He picked up the other from the floor. It was of them in the maze; she was on his back with her arms looped around his neck, both of them laughing.

At that moment, at the sight of those photos, at the realization that she’d kept them all this time, Liam felt the last of the reservations he’d been holding onto crumble. He wanted to be the two people in those photos again.

Two people who could make each other laugh and smile.

Two people who were better when they were together.

Two people who were happy and in love.

“Liam?” Amara’s voice carried down the hall.

Liam snapped from his daze and cleared his throat. “Coming.” He placed the rest of the items back in the drawer but slipped the photos into his back pocket before standing and carrying the nightstand out.

****

That night, Amara stood out on the balcony of the hotel suite while Liam put Sophia into bed. She stared out at the view of the city she’d called home all her life, but she couldn’t say she’d miss it all that much.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Liam said behind her.

Amara glanced over her shoulder, and her eyes followed him as he came to stand beside her. “Nothing,” she said, “just … taking in the view. Did she go down ok?”

“Yeah,” Liam nodded as he leaned against the railing. “Out like a light.” He glanced out at the view, staying quiet for a moment before looking over at her. “Are you going to miss it?”

“No … not really,” Amara answered. “I think … I think I’m ready to start over somewhere else.”

Liam stared at her for a moment before taking her answer for the opening it was. “Speaking of starting over …” He stood upright and reached back, pulling the two photos from his back pocket. “When we were packing … these fell out of your nightstand drawer.”

Amara focused on the photos in his hand, fighting against looking at him as she blinked away the sting in her eyes. “Yeah …”

“I didn’t realize you had them.”

“I …” Amara let out a soft breath and cast her gaze to the ground.

Liam’s thumb slid under her chin and he lifted her eyes to his. “No more secrets.”

Amara swallowed. “I would look at them … in hopes I could convince myself to reach out to you … to tell you about Sophia.” She fell quiet for a moment before speaking again, her next words coming out just above a whisper. “And on days when I missed you … which was all the time … I’d look at them to remind myself of what it felt like to be whole … because that’s what being with you made me feel. Whole and complete … and happy.”

Liam searched her eyes for a moment, and in the next, he leaned down, capturing her lips in his. Amara stiffened in surprise, needing to rest her hands against his chest to keep herself upright, but when his arm curled around her waist and pulled her closer, she went more than willingly. When her lips parted against his, she felt his tongue softly curl against hers, so slowly at first it was as if he were trying to savor the moment, but then he deepened the kiss, and she gripped his shirt to steady herself.

Forcing himself not to get too caught up, Liam drew back. It took her a moment to open her eyes, and they stared at each other in silence for a few heartbeats before she looked away from him. He could see the self-consciousness fill her expression and realized it was because she determined that he must have thought what just happened was a mistake … but she was wrong.

“I want to go back to being the two people in these photos. I want this again.” Liam held up the pictures. When she looked at him again, he saw the surprise in her eyes, like she couldn’t believe what he was saying. “I want this … I want us. But I want to slow down because I want us to be sure when we go in, if not for our sakes, then for Sophia’s.”

At his words, a tear trickled down Amara’s cheek, and he reached up, brushing it away with his thumb. “I didn’t think … after what I’d done—”

“When I told you I was leaving the past in the past, I meant it, Amara,” Liam interrupted. “I just need to know if you want the same … that you’re willing to try.”

Amara took in a shuddered breath as her tear-filled eyes searched his. And then she nodded. “I want the same,” she whispered.

Liam dropped his hand from her face and curled his fingers around hers. “Then we take it day by day once we get back home … and we’ll see how things go.”

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

#the royal romance #trr #choices trr #choices the royal romance #liam rys #king liam rys #king liam #trr liam #liam x oc #trr liam x oc #choices liam x oc #king liam x oc #trr fanfic #trr fanfiction #trr fan fic #trr au #trr au fanfic #cfwc fics of the week

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tessa-liam · 1 month

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Turning the Page

A Step Back in Time, chapter 11

Choices, The Royal Romance, AU

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

Turning the Page Series Masterlist

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!OC Riley Brooks

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

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

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

Words: 3268

A Step Back in Time, Chapter 11

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

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

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

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

‘Cause I, ‘cause I

I don’t know how to feel

But I wanna try

I don’t know how to feel

But someday I might

Someday I might

Think I forgot how to be happy

Something I’m not, but something I can be

Something I wait for

Something I’m made for

Something I’m made for’

Cordonian Royal Palace, Capital

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

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

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

...and it broke her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Riley looked up, catching Liam's gaze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nevrakis Chateau, Lythikos, Cordonia

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Anything for my dear friends."

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

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

William looked up at her and smiled.

"Hewwo."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay, Daddy."

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh... "

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

Riley sighed and set her wine glass on the table.

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

"Do you still love him?"

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

"Do you think he loves you?"

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

"Then what's the problem?"

"I'm not sure."

Olivia shook her head and sighed.

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

"I know that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Scared of what? And why?"

"That he won't forgive me."

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

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

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

"But..."

"But, nothing. There is no 'but'.”

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

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

Riley looked at her friend and took a staggered breath.

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

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

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

"Now. Come with me."

Olivia stood and motioned for Riley to follow.

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

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

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

"We're going to do some training.”

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

"For the press."

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

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

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

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

"Okay, but ...”

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

Riley took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

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

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

"Of course. Now, let us get started.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She picked up a sword.

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

"It's light and I can move fast.”

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

“Really?” Riley admonished.

"Now, we'll practice some moves.”

"Moves?"

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

"Wow. This is serious.”

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

"I won't.” Riley responded warily.

"Good. Now, attack me."

"What?" Riley looked aghast.

"Attack me."

"Oh, um ... okay."

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

"Is that the best you've got?"

"No.”

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

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

"I am?"

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

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

"Here. Let me show you."

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

"Now, you try.”

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

"Better.” Olivia critiqued.

"Thanks." Riley answered questionably.

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

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

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

"Excellent.” Olivia praised.

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

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

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

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

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

"Nicely done.”

"Thanks."

"Feel better?" Olivia snickered as Riley laughed.

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

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

"Let's practice."

"All right."

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

Riley cleared her throat and straightened her posture.

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

"Why did you leave Cordonia?"

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

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

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

"Do you still love the King?”

"Yes, of course."

“No! STOP!!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you, Liam.” Riley tearfully smiled.

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

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

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

"Liam, I love you."

"I love you, too, Riley."

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

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

"I'm ready.*

"Pleasant dreams you two. Good night."

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

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

Good night." Riley called out.

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

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

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

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

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#tessa liam writes #the royal romance #liam rys #trr #riley brooks #trr fanfic #choices fic writers creations #king liam #king liam rys #choices liam x oc #turning the page

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kristinamae093 · 7 months

Text

Ghosted

Ghosted - Two Steps Back (Chapter Ten)

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

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

A/N 1 - This AU starts right before the beginning of the engagement tour. There is a two-month lapse between the coronation and where we pick up, but we will stray from canon. Please excuse any errors found.

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

After the Regatta

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W–who are you?”

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

“Know what?”

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

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

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

Penelope’s eyes widened. “I–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re going to do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are we doing this now, or?”

“Yes. The sooner, the better.”

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

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

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

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

Liam spoke again, “Any other updates?”

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

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

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

“Nothing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What should we do?” Leo asked Olivia.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Strange how?” Leo asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are unauthorized personnel,” Bastien snapped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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