#drake walker x f!oc

[txemrn]

Stay

Chapter 2: "Ten Feet Under and Upside-Down"

Catch up here!

Word Count: ~6835 (I apologize; it's a long one)

Series Summary: With her family facing deportation back to Auvernal, fun-spirited Reid Ambrose quits college to support her family. But as fate would have it, she accepts a temporary job as a caregiver for the royal family, an experience that will challenge her, break her, and devastate her world in the most exciting of ways.

Chapter Summary: An old face returns to Cordonia to work for the royal family. But even after almost a decade away, not much has changed, and he's more miserable than ever.

Series Warning: ⛔ Please Be Advised: 18+ Only ⛔This series will contain mature material, including foul language, NSFW 🍋, discussion/depictions of war, violence, gun violence, assassination attempts; medical situations, including major character injuries; ethical dilemmas including euthanasia & bodily autonomy; mental health, including depression, PTSD, suicide

Series Music Inspo: “Awake” by Secondhand Serenade

Chapter Music Inspo: "Storm" by Lifehouse

AN: Majority of these characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry. Special thanks to my amazing friend @kat-tia801 for prereading, and my sweet friend @ao719 for helping me dial-up a scene as well as pre-reading it. Also, you will recognize some items from canon; other items may be completely contradictory to canon. Just got with it, and enjoy the story. 😊

~🖤~

Present (as a reminder: 3 years after Leo's tragic birthday party)

Coasting into the assigned parking spot at his apartment complex, Drake Walker haphazardly downshifts his truck before ripping the keys out of the ignition. All the lights seem to be out in his place, which will work in his favor for a possibly quiet night at home. No talking, especially no arguing. Hopefully with his quick maneuvering, the rumble of his old pick-up won’t disturb his wife and son from their sleep.

Fuck. It did. A lamp in the master bedroom flickers on, a glow illuminating through the window. 

Drake lays his exhausted head on the steering wheel, unsure if he should turn back around and go back to his job and stay the night there. At least then he wouldn't have to hide himself, hide his emotions from his bride, pretend to be the man he promised her he would be.

Jodi doesn't deserve this. Any of this. The silent treatment. The avoidance. The denial of connection. She's too faithful, too fucking loving for her own good. Truth be told, her gentle answers, loving support, and abundant encouragement are the reasons Drake has been so successful both in college and starting his career as a physical therapist.

Why was he shutting down on her now?  

It all started about six months ago, when Drake found the crown prince of Cordonia wandering on their front porch of their newly-built Texas home. 

“Leo?” Drake cocked his head, furrowing his eyebrows in disbelief.  He hadn’t seen the tall blond since the aftermath of his birthday party almost three years ago. 

“Walker!” he extended his hand, striding widely to greet the commoner. “Long time no see, brother!”

Brother? Drake eyes the prince’s outstretched arm before hesitantly gripping it. Taking in Leo’s appearance, he notices a thick file folder under his arm, filled with what looked like a stack of disjointed documents with tabs and post-it notes.

“Jesus Christ, Texas is fucking hot,” Leo chuckled, dabbing his forehead, but his perfect pearly white smile remained on Drake. “Beautiful place you got here.”

Always the charmer. “Yeah,” Drake shifted his gaze to the screen door, seeing a curious Jodi with their son Finn on her hip. He gave her a nod with the notion that everything was okay before turning back to his visitor. “Listen, Leo…” he clapped his hands, “um, what are you doing here?”

Leo snickered. “Straight to the point as always, Walker. Is there some place we can talk?”

“Right here is just fine,” Drake fired back quickly, not trusting the future king’s intentions. He folded his arms, leaning a shoulder against a wooden post.

“On behalf of the Cordonian royal family, we’d like to hire you.”  

Leo had offered Drake a full-time job to be the prince’s personal physical therapist. This, of course, made the commoner scoff, making it clear that he would never cross onto Cordonian soil again. Not for anyone, not even him.  But when he stormed inside, he was stopped by Jodi who had been listening.

“He traveled halfway around the world, Drake Walker,” she quietly scolded, “at least talk to him. We’re talking about your old stomping grounds, your family… I know they treated you like shit, but… at least hear him out. Maybe it’s time to bury the hatchet, you know? Let go of your bitterness.”

“Jo… I don’t know.”

“Think of the good example you’ll be setting for Finn,” she smiled, batting her puppy-dog eyes.

Fuck, she was good.

Luckily Leo hadn’t retreated too far away from their land.  Drake waved down his driver, and then invited Leo back to the house for a drink and for the opportunity to discuss his proposal. Once the crown prince was introduced to Jodi, the three of them sat down at the kitchen table while Finn took a nap on the couch.

Looking like an episode of Criminal Minds, the documents in the folder were carefully explained and spread out before the young couple’s eyes. It was a medical file, complete with lab test results, written diagnoses and prognoses by doctors, some of which were second and third opinions. Lists of medications, photographs of scarred skin, MRIs of nerve damage, degeneration and muscle atrophy: it was clear that there was a serious need.

But why him? Why Drake?

“We’ve already been through three therapists, and all of them have left us,” Leo answered somberly. “I’m not going to lie; it’s… difficult, and not just because your job is already difficult. But… he’s difficult.” Leo folded his hands on the table, mindlessly fidgeting with his thumbs. Suddenly something came over him, something more honest, something more human. “Please, Walker,” his voice shook before clearing his throat. “We… We need you.”

Drake quietly sits in the driver's seat in the stillness of the night, fidgeting with his wedding band as Leo’s words echo in his head. 

We need you…

He reminisces about his childhood in Cordonia, about games of tag in the hedge maze, fishing trips out on Lake Malus, and sleepovers on the back lawn of the palace with only his sleeping bag, a flashlight and comic books. 

But, along with the fond memories of his childhood came the bittersweet remembrance of his friendship with Liam. He was always there. Always–well, for the most part, at least up until the end. The prince was Drake’s confidant, his greatest support. He gave sound advice, but also knew when to sit, whether it was to listen or because Drake needed silence.

He didn’t turn his back on Drake even after he felt abandoned by his own family.

Maybe that’s why Drake finally agreed to this arrangement; maybe he felt indebted somehow to the royal family, to the memory of Liam being patiently supportive when tragedy struck. The sacrifice probably didn’t seem great to the leaders of a country, but to Drake, it was everything.

Never in a million years would Drake have guessed this would be his life, a selfless life of servitude to the royals, a miserable life putting them first before his own family. Just like his father. When he left Cordonia almost a decade ago, his decision seemed so certain, so clear, and he swore that he would never see any of these horrid people again.

He glances towards the orange glow, pouring from his bedroom window, and he worries about his marriage. The pent-up regret and festering anger has been building since the moment he stepped back onto Cordonia soil. The job was difficult, and it was near impossible to work with his ornery client. Drake returns home late every night with battle wounds on his heart.

But, tonight he suddenly feels an overwhelming sense of guilt as he watches the shadows shift against the ambient lighting.  Has he been silently taking out his frustrations on his wife? He’s trying to spare her his heartache by keeping it to himself; but in doing so, is he neglecting her needs?

Damnit, my family needs me, too.

He reaches into a secret pocket of his duffle bag, and pulls out two cigarettes. Tucking one behind his ear to chainsmoke later, he lights the other one, pulling in the deep burn. He combs his fringe out of his eyes before leaning back on his head rest, exhaling his smoky breath. But still, the haunting anxiety remains.

How the fuck did we even get here?

------

9 Years ago

A sudden loud clatter jolts nineteen-year-old Drake awake from his impromptu nap. Unsure of the time or how long he has been asleep, he intently rubs his eyes with his fists before succumbing to a large, vocal yawn, stretching his sculpted arms over his head. Quickly noticing the darkness outside, he reaches for his phone and notices the time.

1:24 AM

The fuck, Liam?

Last year, the young prince started his rigorous royal training in preparation for his older brother Leo’s ascension to the Cordonian throne. Being separated from his best friend, Drake quickly made himself busy around the palace, mainly serving as a stablehand, until Liam would retire from the evening.  But, with constant travels, the wearisome studies and the long diplomatic meetings, the two men discovered less and less free time to spend together. Liam was forming new bonds and new relationships with fellow dignitaries and politicians while his friendship with Drake was starving for a connection.  After a few short months, they were barely texting one another.

Today is Liam’s birthday, and the two men had agreed to finally catch up with drinks at the beer garden to celebrate. Drake came home early to make himself presentable before heading over to Liam’s quarters early.   He was nervous, not because he was finally going to come face-to-face with Liam, but he was anxious about talking with him.  Drake had come to an important conclusion, and having Liam’s support meant the world.

When he arrived to the room, no one answered the door.  The commoner let himself in with his spare key only to discover a dark room with the young prince nowhere to be found. 

After leaving multiple voice messages and sending off several unopened texts, Drake contacted Lars, Liam’s personal guard.

“Walker, you know it’s against protocol for me to tell you where he is at–”

“Lars, just… c’mon,” Drake sighed, “we had plans. Tonight. I mean, maybe he forgot? Or–or maybe he thought I stood him up?” The silence on the phone spoke loud and clear, giving Drake the answer he didn’t want. “When you find a heart, tell him I was looking for him.” Ending the call, Drake slumped into a leather loveseat in Liam’s bedroom.

Sitting alone in the dimly lit room, Drake was left to his own thoughts.  He remembers his mom lecturing Savannah all the time about the importance of the quality of friendships rather than the quantity of friends she claimed she had.  She would say kitschy phrases, like, “Some people come into your life for a lifetime while others come into your life for a season.” 

But the latter was for other people and their failed relationships; this didn’t apply to Drake and his childhood friend Liam. Right? They grew up together; they became men together. They’ve seen each other at their best and at their absolute worst.  They’ve rejoiced together; they've grieved together. Liam was his ride or die. 

Then why was it all of a sudden so goddamn hard to even be around each other, let alone talk to each other?

Drake rakes his fingers through his hair, finally resting his forehead in his hands as the racket continues.  First, he hears keys pawing at the door, like a cat to a scratch post, followed by poorly stifled giggles and even more obnoxious hushes. Finally busts open with an unkempt, very drunk Liam with lips glued to a shapely brunette, her dress already unzipped.

Drake clears his throat, causing the couple to jump apart.

“Drake!” Liam slurs, “Just the man I was looking for!” He glides towards his best friend, patting him on the shoulder before turning his attention to the woman in the room. “I want you to meet Lady… Lady… Latvia–”

“Actually, it’s Leilani,” she kindly interrupts, “Lady Leilani of Latvia.” She offers a crooked smile to Drake while Liam plays cool, snapping his fingers and pointing to her in acknowledgement that she was correct. She stumbles forward towards the commoner with an extended hand to shake while her other arm keeps her bodice covering her chest.

Raising an eyebrow at the trainwreck in front of him before glaring at the inebriated prince, Drake raises his voice. “We need to talk, Li.”

With Leilani giving Liam a concerned look, he walks up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist as he nuzzles his nose into her neck. “Can this wait until tomorrow?” Liam calls out, his words nasally and muffled against her skin.

Drake stands quickly with a heavy foot. “No.” 

With his friend’s words shooting through him like an arrow, Liam quickly gives a sober nod.  He whispers something into the young coed’s ear, causing her to giggle as he helps her back into her dress. She makes her exit, swaying her hips through the door, but not before she blows a kiss to Liam.

Liam catches the airborne kiss, touching his palm to his face as she finally exits the room.  “Isn’t she something?”As he turns to face Drake, the prince is met with a cold stare, a lump suddenly forming in his throat.  “Well,” Liam clears his throat as he makes himself comfortable on the side of his bed. “So, what’s up–hey! We missed you tonight, bruh” he jokes, finger-gunning towards Drake.

“‘Bruh’?” Drake scoffs. “I was here, Li… waiting for you… like we had planned.”

Liam gives him a funny look. “We did?” He shrugs off his sports coat, letting it crumple on the ground as he untucks his pale pink oxford. “Well,” the blond lays back on his bed, letting out a hefty exhale. “You should’ve joined us–”

 “Are you fucking for real right now?”

“Drake, relax,” he waves his hand flippantly in the air, closing his eyes. But, when he hears a loud sigh, he sits up on his elbows with one eye open.  "Wait… are you seriously mad at me? For not drinking with you? Last I checked–” Liam extends his arms above his head, allowing his head to hit the plush comforter. “It’s my birthday!”

“Fuck it,” Drake mutters, standing up to head for the door. “I’m leaving–”

“Whoa, whoa,” Liam jumps up to stop his best friend from leaving, tripping over his jacket on the way. “Seriously, dude,” Liam puts his hand to his chest as he begins to sing, “talk to me. Tell me your name–”

Drake pushes Liam out of the way, causing him to stumble to the ground.

“Whoa there, old friend,” Liam pulls himself back up. “That was kinda hard.”

“It wasn’t that hard.” Drake opens the door.

“I thought you wanted to talk,” Liam shouts, a twinge of humor in his voice.

“You’re drunk–”

“And for once,” Liam draws closer to the shaggy brunette, jabbing his finger into his chest, “you’re not!”

Drake sees red as he glares at the shell of the man that he used to consider his brother. When did he become so rude? So flippant? So careless? So… Leo? “You know what, Li?” He raises his hands in surrender, slowly stepping backwards through the door. “We’re done.” He turns on his heel and storms towards his private quarters.

“Drake? Drake, c’mon,” Liam calls out, jogging towards the commoner. He grabs him by the shoulder, turning him around. “Listen, I’m sorry. I–I'm dunk–drunk. Let’s just talk about this tomorrow–”

“No, Li. There is no more time to talk.” Drake shrugs off Liam’s hand as he returns to his pursuit. “Besides, I have a plane to catch in the morning.”

“A plane?” Liam catches up to Drake again, this time cutting in front of him. “Where–where are you going?”

"Away," he grumbles, finally reaching his room.

"Okay," Liam curiously stops, raising an eyebrow, his voice becoming softer. "When are you coming back?"

On cue, Drake unlocks his door to reveal a few packed boxes and luggage. Liam flips on an overhead light, his eyes registering the scene. He furrows his brows, as he tracks his pacing friend. Drake finally turns around, shoving his hands in his pocket before daring to look up at the prince.

"You're moving," Liam states matter-of-factly.

"To Texas," Drake finishes, eyes trained to the floor.

"But… but what about your life here–"

"What life, Liam?" Drake angrily interrupts. "I see the same three guys every day down in the stables. I eat breakfast and dinner by myself," he suddenly chokes on his words, his breath hitching as he turns away to collect himself. He looks back to Liam, his eyes reddening with the threat of tears. "I spend my free-time wondering if my fucking best friend will actually talk to me today."

"So this is my fault?" Liam shifts his weight, putting his hands on his hips. "Drake," he scoffs, "we knew this day was coming, my noble training, my duties. And this is harder, harder than I ever imagined. I’m sorry that we don’t hang out as much. But, cut me some slack."

"I have… For a long time now." 

Liam looks away, his lips twisting.  Every emotion flashes across his youthful, chiseled face. Confusion. Anger. Worry. Betrayal. Running a hand over his stubbled chin, he looks back at his friend.

"How do I fix this?"

Hearing the genuine desperation in Liam's voice, Drake drops his head. He rubs the back of his neck, his eyes still trained on the floor. "Li, I–"

"Just tell me. And I'll make it happen. Anything."

Drake sardonically snickers, shaking his head. "Don't you want better for me?  For me to make something of myself?"

"Is it a job? Because I can get you a better job. Or we can get you into Cordonia U in the Fall–"

"Wow," Drake blows a raspberry with his lips. "Do you seriously think I need your help? That I'm incapable of creating my own life? My own future?" Fuming, Drake catches his breath. “Jesus fucking Christ, you nobles are all the same. You think you can just throw your wealth, your fucking title and get your way–”

“It never stopped you from accepting my help before.”

A dark stillness engulfs the room as the two friends stare daggers into each other. Liam crosses his arms, his physique growing rigid as he towers his extra three inches of height over denim-clad commoner. Breathing madly, Drake’s broad chest rises and falls as his hands grip into fists. They stood there for a few minutes, hurling silent insults at each other, tearing each other apart with their quiet thoughts. 

Finally, Drake shakes his head in disgust, throwing up his hands before heading for the door.  “I’ll send for my stuff,” he mutters under his breath as he intentionally bumps his shoulder into the prince’s arm, pushing him off balance.

Liam scoffs. He brushes off his arm as if Drake had left something dirty on him from impact. He follows him out the door to watch him walk down the main corridor. 

“Like mother, like son.”

Drake spins around, his jaw tightening. He closes the space between him and Liam before launching a wrathful swing of his arm, his fist abruptly meeting a hearty crack against the prince’s chiseled face. 

Liam stumbles backwards, falling to a knee as he holds his cheek. But before he can retaliate, Liam’s guard Lars quickly apprehends Drake, knocking him to the ground as he calls for reinforcements over his earpiece.  With six more guards swarming the floor, Drake is picked up by his pinned arms.

“Stop!” Liam bellows, struggling to stand up. With the help of another guard, Liam steadies his gate before drawing closer to Drake, He wipes at his lip, noting the dark red crimson trickling from his mouth. He locks his eyes on his childhood friend before slowly shaking his head. 

“You ungrateful bastard,” Liam growls before turning to Lars. “Show Mr. Walker out.” Liam turns on his heel, walking back to his quarters before slamming the door.

------

Present

An abrupt knocking on the glass breaks Drake’s reverie. He anxiously sits up, but his troubled heart instantly takes comfort at the sight of her, his bride, his person. It was his Jodi. Even in a ratty old SFA t-shirt and an old pair of his boxers, she was still stunning. Her hair reflects the moonlight, turning her usual golden strands into ethereal white. Her warm caramel-chocolate eyes hold the universe, Drake’s whole universe, as they sparkle and dance just for him.  She delicately presses her fingertips against the pane, her heart-shaped lips offering a pleading smile.  Baby, please. I’m here.

Drake furrows his brow at the sight of her. His lips can’t help but frown as the pricking of tears sting his eyes.  He finally drops his head into hands, shielding his face from her view.  He knew the dam that was holding back his emotions would eventually break, and his heart would bleed out as the unbearable weight on his shoulders came crashing down around him. But, he didn’t want to do this in front of Jodi, not in front of the woman that trusts him to be her rock and strength.

“Drake?” She softly calls to him. “Drake baby?” She gently taps her fingertips against the window again to get his attention, but he doesn’t answer her.

Jodi quickly rounds the truck, climbing in on the other side while shoving his duffle bag into the back of the cab.  “Baby? Baby?” She slides her arms around Drake’s broad shoulders, pulling him snuggly into her embrace, resting her chin in his tousled hair.  Her face etches with worry, but she’s not a fool; she knows her husband, and she knows that this–whatever this is– has been building like a cancer inside of him for a while now. 

At least since they moved to Cordonia.

“I’m sorry,” Drake whispers, but Jodi quickly hushes him endearingly, combing her fingers through his hair and behind his ear. “I promised you a better life than this. I promised you a better husband than–”

“Don’t you dare talk about my husband that way, Drake Walker.” She playfully scorns, planting kisses on the crown of his head. 

Drake sits up, giving his wife a half-crooked smile as he quickly dries his eyes with the heel of his hand. He then wraps a strong arm around her, pulling her to his side, their lips tenderly meeting.

Jodi reaches over, lacing her petite hand with his large fingers. Her eyes find his glassy stare, but he quickly looks away from her, clearing his throat.

She squeezes his grip before casually looking out the window. “Your mom used to say, 'He's just like Jack.'  

Drake's eyes widen, turning back to his wife. "What?"

The corners of Jodi's mouth turn up as she continues. "Apparently your dad was incredibly strong. Tough. Hard-headed–"

Drake guiltily chuckles under his breath. "Sounds slightly familiar." 

"And yet… very emotional. Haunted even." She looks up at her husband, their eyes locking on one another. As silence fills the truck, Jodi's attention falls to their laced fingers. Gently letting go of his hand, she begins twirling his platinum wedding ring.

"Listen, Jo–"

She holds a finger to his mouth and sweetly grins. "I love you, Drake Walker," her eyes twinkle, "just the way you are, even when you feel like being quiet and I know,” she chuckles, “I know. You have to mull things over before you can talk about them." She cups his face, gently stroking the coarse hairs of his bearded jaw. “But you married me. You don't have to shoulder the pain alone anymore. You don't have to worry about tomorrow or about decisions or about life alone anymore." Watching a tear swell and threaten to drop from his long lashes, Jodi gently rubs her thumb across his lower eyelid. "You can be quiet, that's fine. But you eventually need to talk to me, Drake. Please–" she sniffles, "don't shut me out. Don't–don't shut us out–"

"Oh, baby," Drake exhales, his arms enveloping his wife. He leans in, resting his forehead against hers as he closes his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry… I–" he sighs, "I never meant to do this to you. All I want to do… is protect you, be a man that you are proud of–”

“Drake–”

“Jodi Walker… you are the most precious thing this life has ever given me… damnit–” his breath hitches as he presses his face intimately into her hair, "I need you. God, everyday. I need you every fucking day. More and more." 

"I need you, too, baby," Jodi sweetly whispers in his ear, her voice hoarse from tears. She presses a firm kiss into his hairline, her fingers tangled tightly in his hair. “And I am proud of you.”

For the first time in almost six months, Drake suddenly understands what it means to be supported, to be heard and to be loved. It's not that his wife failed to do these things for him. But he realizes it's easy to feel comforted when he feels positive about himself and rewarded by life. He promised Jodi happiness, and he is bound and determined to ensure she always has that.

Even if that means hiding himself and his own demons.

But he had forgotten one very important detail: Jodi made the exact same promise of a happy life, to love him, and to comfort him through every curve ball thrown at them. He’s not that little boy anymore, suffering through his father’s death and mother’s abandonment alone. He has someone now, his person, his better half, his forever.

After spending some much needed time in each other's arms, whispering sentiments of love and sharing sweet kisses, the couple is interrupted by a tiny voice on the baby monitor.  They both stare at the device intently, finally raising an eyebrow to one another, holding their breath as they try to decipher the message. 

"Damnit! Okay! Fine. I have no idea,” Jodi confesses, throwing up her hands as a guilty expression paints across her face. “I have no fucking idea what the hell he is saying half the time."

"Shit, I thought it was just me," Drake snickers, rubbing his forehead.

Jodi slowly furrows her eyebrows. “You think he’s normal?”

“Meh,” Drake shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t think we’ve fucked him up too badly just yet–”

“Drake!” Jodi swats at her husband’s arm as he pretends to shield himself.  They tumble into a fit of snickers as Drake puts his arm around her shoulders, hugging her tightly.

"Well, I better go check on him," she gives a sorrowful smile before pressing her lips to Drake one last time. "Take your time… but don't dare keep me waiting alone for too long, Mr. Walker," she winks as she begins to slide out of the truck.

Drake grabs her elbow, pulling her back to his side as their mouths meet again. A soft moan tumbles from her chest as he strokes her hair back. 

"We're in this together… right, Mrs. Walker?" he kisses her nose, making her scrunch it up.

"Always."

------

By the time Drake makes it upstairs, a lone kitchen light illuminates his path in the open-concept layout of his apartment. He quietly sets his bag down next to the front door before kicking off his tennis shoes. He strips down into his white undershirt and boxer briefs, gathering his dirty scrubs to throw into the wash. 

Softly padding to the kitchen to warm up some dinner, he notices a certain little 3-year-old’s upside-down handprint on a piece of construction paper.  As he draws close to the craft, Drake’s smile begins to grow as the gray blob of paint begins to take the shape of an elephant, complete with a googly-eye glued near the base of the tiny thumb and his ear, toes and tail drawn on with a permanent marker, no doubt drawn on by Jodi.

To: Daddy

Drake traces the hand print, a sense of pride billowing in his chest. My boy. Feeling the tight ache in his cheeks from smiling, he glances towards Finn’s room and notices the door is ajar, his night light pouring through the crack out into the hallway. He quietly moseys to his son’s room, peering in to see his son, sleeping soundly with his chestnut strands sprawled out carelessly on his pillow. With a secure grip on a toy firetruck, the young child’s arm is relaxed over his head while the thumb of his other hand is tucked barely into the waistband of his dinosaur underwear.

Drake chuckles to himself, admiring the adorable vision when he suddenly looks down, noticing that he had his own thumb tucked into the waistband of his boxers.

And it hits him: what else am I unknowingly teaching him? 

Drake has fond memories of his father: camping, fishing, learning how to tie a tie, grilling the perfect steak, tuning up a car. But one thing he doesn’t like to think about are the times his father wasn’t there–especially since those times outnumber the moments he was present. 

And it was all for the sake of the job. Drake remembers phone calls in the middle of the night, impromptu international trips, interrupted holidays. And then when his dad was home, he wasn’t always present with them. Often times, his mother would shoo Drake and his younger sister away to allow for Jackson to rest by the fire with a bottle of scotch in his hands.

But Drake has nothing, but admiration and gratefulness for his dad, for all of the good times, the life lessons and pep talks. Because of the early, pleasant experiences, Drake always imagined raising his children the exact same way.

Only now that he’s in Cordonia, he’s not.

But that stops tonight.

Drake tenderly picks up his son, Finn’s head instantly nuzzling back to sleep on his dad’s shoulder, gripping tightly to his shirt. He knew that Jodi was probably going to kill him for getting the little one out of his bed, but at this moment, holding their boy, reminding him that Daddy is always there seems more important.  

Drake strolls into his bedroom with a snoozing Finn in his arms, wrapped up with his patch-work blankie.  With her eyes growing heavy, Jodi is mindlessly scrolling through TikTok in the dark when she hears her husband’s heavy steps. She sits up on her elbow, and then notices her son.

“Drake?” She turns on a lamp, slowly sitting up in bed.  “What are you doing? Is he okay—?”

“Yeah,” Drake looks down at his son, nestled in his arms, “everything is perfect now.”

------

The next morning, Drake feels renewed, like shackles have been broken off of his hands and feet, setting him free. There’s no sense of dread or anxiety. He doesn't feel agonizing guilt or slithering voices of self-loathing. Rather, he's at peace; he's comforted. He has a swelling of confidence in his chest and a new lease of determination in his soul. And when he wakes up next to his wife and son, his heart almost aches from the overflow of love for them. 

He contacts his work, notifying them that he would be present for his client at the regular scheduled start time in accordance with his contract. He took a very excited Finn to the kitchen for breakfast, knowing that his early-bird of a wife would be in shortly.

Only she wasn’t.

After bribing his son to take five ‘big boy bites’, Drake cleans Finn up before securing him inside a baby gate with his blankie and a new episode of Dino Ranch.  Returning to the kitchen, he pours a mug of piping hot coffee for Jodi while preparing a short stack of pancakes with spiced apple butter, his wife’s new favorite topping since moving to Cordonia.  Arranging the meal on a rustic, wooden tray, he carries it, tiptoeing carefully into the bedroom.  He finds her already up, rinsing out her mouth before returning to bed.

“Morning, Mrs. Walker,” he smiles, presenting her breakfast like a trophy.. 

“Mmmm, morning, Mr. Walker,” her voice is raspy. “I see you’ve been cooking–”

“Jo–” he interrupts, putting the tray down and cradling her face. “You okay?”  He gently strokes his thumbs across the dark, purple circles under her swollen eyes.

“Yeah,” she reassures, putting her hands on his wrists. “I–I’m just tired. Someone invited a certain little boy into our bed that I swear is going to be the kicker for the Cowboys someday."

“A kicker instead of a… walker?” he mischievously raises his eyebrows, ensuring his wife got the punchline. 

Oh, she did. Jodi playfully glares at her husband. "You know? Just because you're a dad now doesn't mean you have to tell dad jokes."

"You love my jokes," he badgers, his voice growing heated as his mouth grazes gently across her lips. 

"Mmmm… I love you," she croons. 

Their mouths meet again, but the intimate touch is gone too quickly. Jodi playfully pouts, the adorable sight coaxing Drake to kiss her again. And then again. And then once more. “Greedy girl this morning,” he growls, handing her the coffee before pinching her ass.

“Baby," she yelps. "Hey, wait… shouldn’t you be at work?” Jodi furrows her eyebrows before sniffing her mug and stealthily setting it down.

“Technically my contract says I have to be in by 8:30 AM. The only one that wants me there at 6 is my fucking client–”

“Drake,” she warns.

“What?” He shrugs his shoulders, feigning ignorance.

“Are you going to always refer to him as your ‘fucking client’?”

“That’s all he is, Jo,” he spits back. He watches his wife calmly push her loose tendrils behind her ear before she dips her finger into the apple butter. Drake sighs, “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just… it’s different. He’s different.”

“I guess I don’t understand. What about all the phone calls and facetimes?” She licks her finger. “I mean I know that all stopped when… uh, well… after everything happened, and–and–and you and I had Finn, then the wedding. But I thought surely you two would go back to–”

“It’s not like that anymore, Jo,” he sighs.  “I know you were hoping that somehow moving back here would be like some magical family reunion. It’s not. We’re not family anymore.”

“Have… you… talked to–?”

“No. And we don’t talk about her either.” He bites back, a silence falling between them as he stares at his twiddling thumbs. He finally sighs. “Look, Jo, I’m sorry. I know I’m being short with you, but this?  This is my nightmare. Every-fucking-day. I spend my entire day trying to save him, and he’s a stranger, as if we have absolutely no history. He’s… just a fucking asshole.”

Jodi places an endearing hand on his upper back. “I know, baby. But, you’re doing the right thing–”

“Right thing?” Drake blows a raspberry with his mouth.  “The only reason why I’m even here in Cordonia is I was a last ditch effort. He wants to move on, and they thought I’d be the cure,” he sarcastically snickers, “he doesn’t want a fucking cure.” He looks away from his wife, taking a moment to think.  “You know? They are actually considering hiring another ‘caretaker’,” he air-quotes, “but she has to be a young female–”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Who knows? Maybe that will interest him in wanting to stay.”

“Will she have big tits and dollar bills hanging out of her g-string?” Jodi jokes. 

“They can’t hire you,” Drake winks, earning him a swat from his wife. He gets up and retrieves her plate and mug. “Which… how is the training going at your new job?”

“It’s good,” she brightens, as she follows Drake into the kitchen where they can see Finn playing with his toy cars in the living area. “I start at the embassy on Monday, and then I’ll go to the satellite campuses for interviews after that—”

“Jodi?” He interjects, his voice becoming worrisome as he observes her untouched plate. “Aren’t you hungry? That’s fresh apple butter.” 

“I can tell it is,” she grins. “I’m just not hungry yet.”

Drake nods in understanding, but suddenly notices her untouched coffee, an early morning staple for a fully functioning Jodi Walker.

“So,” she continues, “I found out some good news.”

Drake sits down to put on his shoes, turning his ear to her. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“A spot opened up at the employee daycare, so I don’t think we need Sav afterall.” 

“Jo,” Drake runs his hands down his face, “we talked about this. Sav is family–”

“And this is the start of our son's education. Did you know that they use the same programs that the nobles use for private lessons–”

Drake grumbles. “Weren’t you just asking me if I thought he was normal?”

“Drake.”  

“--about how if we’ve fucked him up yet?”

“Drake Walker.”  Jodi crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Please don’t start with that noble shit right now. I’m only wanting the best for him. I love Sav, but I want him doing more than just playing with cars and watching television. Not to mention that drive? Everyday? Especially in Valtoria traffic?” 

“You also don’t have to go back to work,” Drake mutters. When he notices the room is silent, he turns around to see a glaring Jodi with her hands on her hips.  He nervously clears his throat. “Sorry. Continue, sweetheart.”

“He needs structure–”

“Have you met Bertrand?”

“Drake,” she rubs her head as if she is developing a headache.  She quietly saunters towards her husband, slowly snaking her hands around his abdomen. “Please. This will be really good for Finn. I promise.” She tightens her embrace, pressing her forehead into his broad chest. “They have an open house in a few weeks that we can go to. Would that make you feel better?”

Drake gently runs his hands up and down his wife’s back, milling around the information he just learned. He takes a deep breath, finally looking down and meeting her pleading gaze. “Fine. Open house, but Savannah until then.”

“Deal.”  Their lips meet briefly, eliciting a soft moan from Jodi.

“Any other benefits I should know about?” Drake sasses.

“Actually…” Jodi bites her bottom lip, “remember how I only got eight weeks off after I had Finn, and only six of them were paid for?”

Drake huffs under his breath as he pulls out his lunchbox to pack. “Don’t remind me… fucking school district is a bunch of crooks.”

Jodi widens her eyes, placing her pointer finger on her mouth as she shifts her eyes to Finn. Drake retracts his head like a turtle before mouthing the word sorry. 

“Anyway,” Jodi jovially rolls her eyes, “so get this: even as a part-time employee, I still get six months of paid maternity leave. Guaranteed.”

“O…kay.” Drake titters, opening up the refrigerator, “is this your subtle-not-so-subtle way of bringing up the baby conversation again?”

“No–I mean… sortof?” She cocks her head, her tongue pressed to the back of her teeth.  

The moment Drake hears the inflection in her voice, he freezes. Then whirls around to face his wife, noticing how extremely tired she looks. Then he turns to face the sink, glancing at her untouched plate and mug of coffee.

“Jo?” His eyes shift suspiciously towards his wife.

“Drake?” She smiles sheepishly.

“You’re… not…” he tries hard to stifle his smile, but the joy in his gaze betrays him.

Jodi shrugs her shoulders before nodding her head enthusiastically, biting her bottom lip. Within seconds, her husband scoops her up in his arms, lifting her off the ground as their lips melt in a tender kiss.

“Are you serious?  Wait… are you sure?”  He whispers. “You’re not fucking with me? We–we’re really having another baby?” Watching her husband fumble with his words, Jodi is consumed with giggles, her cheeks pinking with joy. Before she can even answer a single question, Drake pushes his mouth back into hers, tracing a trail of heated kisses to the back of her neck before finally embracing her tightly, burying his face into her gold locks. Wrapped in each other's arms, they fall into a pleasurable silence as they gently rock each other back and forth, basking in the blessing of turning into a family of four. “I love you, Jo.”

“Love you, Walker," she echoes hoarsely, sharing one last peck on his lips. Suddenly, she bounds to the baby gate where Finn is watching intently, reaching for his parents.  Jodi picks him up, saddling him on her hip as she spins him around. “And… I love you!” She squeals, grabbing his belly, tickling him lightly as he throws his head back with giggles.

“Oh, damnit.”

Jodi abruptly stops, growing concerned as her husband’s face drops. “What’s wrong?”

“I just realized… I’m not gonna have any extra dollar bills for that new stripper–”

Jodi scrunches up her face. “Let’s get Daddy,” she whispers to Finn. They begin to tickle Drake as he shields himself, all the while laughing hysterically. “No strippers, ya hear me? Y’all are going to hire a sweet girl with manners…  that can keep her clothes on during working hours.”

“That’s what strippers do during working hours,” he snorts, enveloping his small family, planting a kiss on Finn's chubby cheek. As Drake tries to smooth down his son's inherited cowlick, he grows quiet, his expression pensive.  “You’re right, you know.”  Drake exhales, becoming more serious. “I do still care… And if I can’t make him feel better, then I hope this crazy plan of hiring a nice girl works.”

“I hope so too, baby.”

“I just hope she can break through to him,” he sighs, “and that it’s not too late.”

~🖤~

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[tessa-liam]

Marabelle Series

The Game of Kings 

Chapter 10

Choices – The Royal Romance, AU – (cross-over with Rules of Engagement) 

Series Premise – An American teenager from New York City is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobility, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret? 

Marabelle Series Masterlist 

Main Pairing – Prince Liam Rys x F!OC Lady Sophia (Sophie) Taylor 

Other Pairings – Maxwell Beaumont x M!OC Daniel (from NYC), Drake Walker x F! OC Melanie Smithson 

Most characters belong to Pixelberry Studios 

Series Rating – M*🔞Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, crude language & innuendo. 

Not Beta’d - Please excuse all errors. 

Category – Alternate universe/on-going series/angst/fluff/cross-over with Choices Rules of Engagement 

Words: 2483 

The Game of Kings – Chapter 10 

Chapter Summary – Liam and Sophie practice for the charity polo match. Leo is on a cruise ship in the Mediterranean where he meets a woman. Speaking with his father, Leo abdicates the throne. Liam sends Sophie a Valentine’s Day gift. 

Music Inspiration: Everything Has Changed, Taylor Swift (feat Ed Sheeren) 

A/N1: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the U.S. and is Barthelemy Beaumont’s second wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) is Bertrand’s mother. 

A/N2: ‘Social Season’ in this AU series refers to a traditional period in the spring/summer for royalty and members of the court to take part in Balls, dinner parties and charity events. 

A/N3: My submission for Choices Flashfics @choicesflashfics, Week #72, prompt 2 - “I wasn’t the one to walk away. You were....” 

A/N4: My submission for Choices Holidays Valentine’s Day Prompts 2024 - Be my valentine/I love you @choicesprompts, @choicesholidays

.......All I know since yesterday 

Is that everything changed....... 

The Cordonian Royal Polo Club 

After adjusting the strap on Marabelle's harness, Sophie accepted the polo mallet from an attendant. She was in her element today; any time spent riding her horse was a joy but spending time with Liam, on top of that ...this was a dream come true. 

When Liam invited her to join his polo team, she was over the moon. To be personally invited to join him was extremely flattering. Her heartbeat raced and butterflies danced inside anytime and every time she thought of him. 

‘Remembering that beautiful Sunday afternoon while working on a paper for class on the terrace of the Beaumont estate, Sophie looked up, pleasantly surprised to see Liam and Maxwell come into view.  

“Good afternoon, Sophie.” Liam smiled warmly as he walked up to her table. “Hard at work as always, I see.” 

“Oh, hello, Liam. Maxwell.” Sophie stood, moving her laptop to the side. 

Liam bent down to kiss her cheek and waited for her to sit back down before he took a seat himself at the glass patio table. 

“Yes, just trying to get this paper finished before the deadline.” 

Maxwell, grinning mischievously, “Ah, the diligent scholar. Little blossom, take a break for a moment. Liam has something he would like to ask you.” 

“Oh?” Sophie smiled, curiously looking at Liam. 

Clearing his throat, a hint of nervousness in his demeanor, “well, I know your love and passion for horses. And as you know, there is a fundraising event planned for flooding relief in Portavira on Valentine’s Day. 

Sophie nods sadly, “Yes, I have heard of that tragedy; It is heartbreaking.” 

Taking a breath, Liam continued. “Indeed...I was wondering if you would consider joining my polo team. Your skills would be invaluable, and I can assure you, we would make quite the formidable duo on the field.” 

Clearly taken aback, but flattered, “Oh, Liam, I ... I don’t know what to say.” 

“Say yes, Soph! It’ll be a fantastic experience, and I can personally vouch for Liam’s team being a lot of fun. ‘Ya know, cuz I am on it.” Maxwell chuckled. 

Sophie smiled, touched by their enthusiasm, “well, how can I refuse such a charming invitation? I'd be honored to join your team, Liam.” 

Liam, grinning widely, “wonderful! I knew I could count on you, Sophie. This event is going to be legendary, mark my words. Thank you, love.”’ 

Practicing today for the Portavira Charity Polo match, Sophie, along with Liam, Drake, Melanie and Maxwell were in the field taking turns with knock-ins. 

She looked over to the sideline and spotted Liam watching her intently. He gave her a small wave and she waved back with a smile.  

"Let's go, girl," Sophie urged her horse. 

Marabelle broke into a gallop, Sophie leaning forward and keeping pace. 

Liam watched as Sophie rode toward the goal, her posture perfect, her movements smooth and confident. 

Sophie raised her mallet and struck the ball, sending it sailing through the air. 

"Nice shot," Liam called out. 

“Yes!” Sophie cried out as she turned back down the field to where Liam was standing. 

"You're a natural out there!"

"Thanks," Sophie replied, blushing. Liam offered his hand as she dismounted Marabelle. "I love riding.” 

"So, are you looking forward to the match tomorrow?" 

"I am," Sophie said. "I'm a little nervous, too. It's my first time playing in front of a crowd." 

"You'll be great," Liam assured her. "And we'll be a great team." 

“Will the entire team meet today?” 

“Yes, you will meet Rashad and Tariq this afternoon.” 

“Are we interrupting?” Drake asked hesitantly as he and Melanie walked over. 

"Hey guys ... of course not," Liam answered. 

"How's practice going?" Melanie asked. 

"Great," Liam and Sophie replied in unison, both grinning, sharing coy smiles. 

"Looks like you've got a winning team, Liam." Melanie grinned, noticing Sophie move closer to his side.

"Thanks," Liam replied, a wide grin on his face. 

“I think so, too,” Liam winked at Sophie, who smiled softly in return. 

“We only have 7 players though. Leo flew out of Cordonia last night.” Drake shot Liam a concerned look, making a mental note of asking Liam about his brother’s absence after practice. 

"We're gonna have so much fun," Drake grinned. 

"You're playing, too?" Sophie asked, surprised. 

"Of course. You didn't think Liam would let me miss the opportunity to beat him, did you?" 

"We'll see about that," Liam smirked. 

"Oh, it's on," Drake replied, a competitive glint in his eyes. 

"Don't worry, we'll kick their asses," Melanie said to Sophie. 

"Yes, we will," Sophie agreed, laughing. 

As Drake and Melanie left to finish their rounds, Liam and Sophie continued practicing. Their easy banter and playfulness made it clear to anyone watching that there was a definite attraction between them.

... And the way Liam looked at her when their eyes met, his gaze filled with admiration and affection...it made Sophie's heart race. 

She could only imagine how good it would feel to be in his arms again, his lips on hers. 

The thought made her blush, and she tried to push it aside, focusing on the game. But the feeling remained, simmering beneath the surface as they walked their horses to the stable. 

"You're incredible," Liam murmured as they left the field. 

"Thank you," Sophie replied, grinning. "You weren't so bad yourself." 

"High praise coming from you," he teased. 

"I mean it," Sophie said, her tone serious. Liam reached over and took her hand in his as the stable hands led the horses to their stalls. 

With a gentle smile, “high praise indeed, Sophie. And I assure you, I mean it. Your talent with Marabelle is unmatched.” 

Their hands remained clasped as they walked to the clubhouse. 

Azamara Cruise Ship, off the Italian coast, Mediterranean Sea 

As the luxury ship cruised through the Mediterranean Sea, the sun was setting in a vibrant display of reds and oranges. 

Leo stood on the deck, admiring the view, lost in thought. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?"  

He turned to see a young woman standing beside him, her blond hair blowing in the breeze. 

"It is," he agreed, turning his attention back to the sunset. 

"I'm Katie, by the way." 

"Leo." 

"Nice to meet you," Katie said, offering her hand. 

"Likewise," Leo replied, shaking her hand. 

"So, Leo, what brings you out here? On a pleasure cruise?" 

"Just needed to get away for a bit." 

"Yeah, me too," Katie replied. 

"It's been a tough week," Leo confided. 

"Really, how so?" Katie asked. 

"I had to make a decision that changed the course of my life." 

"That's heavy," Katie replied. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

"Not really," Leo admitted. "I'd rather just try to forget about it for a while." 

"Fair enough," Katie replied. "So, tell me, Leo, what do you do for fun?" 

Leo laughed. "Honestly? Not much." 

"Seriously?" Katie challenged.

"Yeah. I have a pretty serious job, and I'm usually focused on that.” 

"Well, that's no good," Katie replied. "You need to have some fun, too.” 

"What do you do for fun, Katie?" 

"Everything!" she exclaimed. "I love exploring new places, trying new things, meeting new people." 

"Sounds exciting.” Leo chuckled, turning his body towards her. 

"It is," she went on. "And it's made me a lot more open-minded and adventurous.” 

"Adventurous, huh?" Leo asked, intrigued by her temerity. 

"Yeah," Katie said, grinning. 

"Well, I could use a little adventure in my life." 

"Then come with me," she said, holding out her hand. 

Leo hesitated for a moment, then took her hand. 

Katie led him down to the pool area, where several people were lounging and enjoying the warm evening air. 

"Come on," she said, tugging him along. 

"Where are we going?" 

"To the hot tub," she replied. 

Leo followed her to the hot tub and watched as she slipped out of her cover-up, revealing a white bikini underneath. 

She stepped into the hot tub and turned to look at him. 

"Well, are you coming?" Her eyebrow raised.

Leo could not resist her invitation. He quickly removed his clothes down to his boxers and joined her in the hot tub. 

"Ahhh, this is nice," he sighed, sinking into the warm water. 

"Isn't it?" Katie agreed, her body glistening in the soft light. 

"So, what do you do for fun, Leo?" 

"I'm a crown prince," Leo said. "So, my life is pretty much dedicated to duty." 

"That doesn't sound very fun," Katie said, frowning. 

"It's not," Leo admitted, noting her non-chalance of his mention of his title. 

"Well, I'm sure we can find something fun for you to do," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

"I'm sure we can," he agreed, his heart beginning to race. 

"How long are you on the cruise for?" Katie asked. 

"The rest of the week," Leo replied. 

"Perfect," Katie said. "We have plenty of time to get into some trouble." 

"Trouble, huh?" 

"Don't worry," she said, laughing. "I won't get you in too much trouble. 

"I'm counting on it," Leo replied, his gaze locked on hers. 

"You are a flirt, Leo." 

"I can't help it," he said, his voice low. This woman was everything that Madeleine wasn't.

"You're very flirtable." 

Katie laughed. "I'm sure that's not a word, but I'll take the compliment." 

"Good," he said, smiling. 

"So, what's your story, Katie?" 

"My story?" 

"Yeah. What brings you out here? On a pleasure cruise?" 

"Same thing as you," Katie replied. 

"An escape..."

Beaumont Estate, Ramsford, Cordonia 

Sophie woke to the sound of knocking on her door. Groggily, she pulled herself out of bed and stumbled across the room. She opened the door to see Daniel standing there, a huge grin on his face and a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses in his hands. 

"Good morning, Squirrel," he chirped. 

"Morning, Dan. What are you doing here so early?" 

"I wanted to bring these to you before you left for the polo match." 

"Wow, they're beautiful," Sophie said, accepting the bouquet. "Thank you." 

"They're not from me, silly. They're from your prince..." 

"Oh," Sophie blushed. 

"Here's the note," Daniel said, handing her a small envelope. 

"Be my Valentine," Sophie read, her heart racing. 

"Aww, that's so sweet," Daniel smiled. "He's really smitten with you." 

"I guess so," Sophie replied, still a bit stunned. 

"So, are you excited about the game today?" 

"Yeah, I am," Sophie said. "I just hope I don't mess up." 

"You'll be fine," Daniel assured her. "I have complete faith in you." 

"Thanks, Dan," Sophie said, giving him a hug. 

"You're welcome, Squirrel." 

Sophie spent the rest of the morning getting ready for the polo match, her heart fluttering every time she lookrd at her roses. She couldn't believe he had sent her such a romantic gift, and she was eager to see him... to thank him personally.

Cordonian Royal Palace 

The morning of the charity polo match, King Constantine was getting dressed when his attendant informed him of an incoming international call.  

“Sir, your son, Leo, is on line one."

Constantine was surprised and concerned, and at once picked up the phone. 

"Son, what's wrong? Where are you?" 

"Father, I had to get away. I had to think." 

"What's there to think about, Leo? Your duty is clear. Your kingdom needs you." 

"But I don't want this," Leo said, his voice thick with emotion. "I never wanted this." 

"Son, I know it's not easy, but we all have to do things we don't want to. It's part of being royalty." 

"... that's the burden we bear." 

"I can't do it," Leo said. "I won't."

"You must," Constantine said, his tone firm. 

"No, I won't. I would rather give up my title than marry Madeleine."

"I'm sorry, son, but you don't have a choice."

"Then I'll abdicate," Leo said, his voice shaking. 

"Leo, where are you now? Are you somewhere safe?" 

"I'm on a cruise ship in the Mediterranean." 

"You are, what?! You are the Crown Prince. You need to return home right away." 

"I won't," Leo replied somberly.

"Leo, listen to me. Your place is here, in Cordonia. You just can’t walk away."

“I have. Liam will be a better King," Leo insisted. 

"Leo! You ...."

“Father," Leo interrupted.

"When have you ever put me or Liam first?” 

“I wasn’t the one to walk away. You were....”, Constantine admonished.

Leo remained quiet, steadfast in his decision.

"Leo, please," Constantine replied, his voice pleading. 

"Goodbye, Father," Leo said, and then he hung up the phone. 

Constantine stood there, stunned. 

.......All I know since yesterday 

Is that everything changed....... 

Thanks for reading

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Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesflashfics @choicesprompts @choicesholidays

#tessa liam writes #liam rys #the royal romance #trr fanfic #choices fic writers creations #choices flashfics #choicesprompts #valentines day 2024 #trr liam x oc #prince liam #marabelle #sophie taylor #trr

[karahalloway]

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

Fandom: TRR

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

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

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

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

Word Count: 7,300

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

Chapter theme song:

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

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

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

Chapter 16 - Snakes in the Garden

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

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

"Yeah, but—"

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

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

Her words hit me like a whiplash.

Your Grace.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Duchess!"

"Lady Harper, we love you!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe this is a mistake...

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

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

I whip around in disbelief. "Olivia!"

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

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

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

I quirk a brow at her. "Meaning?"

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

"No..."

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

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

"Exceedingly."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Harper!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it then?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With another quick bob, she exits the marquee.

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

Some much-needed progress at last!

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

Which reminds me...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Competing with a herd of elephants, Gale?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The humour fades from his gaze at the contact.

"Drake..." I start...

...but he's already pulled away.

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

I heave a breath.

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

So, I decide to start with something less contentious.

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

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

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

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

I glance around me uncertainly. "What?"

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

My heart drops. Oh, no...

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

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

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

My eyes widen. "Drake, what are y—?"

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

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

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

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

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Embarrassing backpedaling, narrowly averted!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We found Tariq."

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

No way...

"Where?"

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

No corner... No mercy.

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

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

"Harper?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My jaw drops. "You what!"

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

"Then why...?"

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

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

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

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

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

"So… what did you do?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So, you managed to get a hit?"

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

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

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

I swallow nervously. "Yeah, I—"

"You have some nerve!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"—but then you have the unmitigated gall—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bitch...

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

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

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

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

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

So much for making allies at court…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The story continues in Chapter 17 - News Flash

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

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[ao719]

Vancross

Vancross - Real As A Dream (Chapter 14)

Most of the characters belong to Pixelberry.

Summary: A group of friends embark on their final year at Vancross Institute with the hopes of making it their best year yet. When a new face with a complicated family plagued by secrets and rumors arrives on campus, new friendships are formed, a new relationship blossoms, and threatening challenges arise.  

Title inspiration: Infinitely Falling - Fly By Midnight

Main Pairing: Liam x F!OC

A/N: Multiple crossover series. There will be random sprinkles of canon throughout this story, but for the most part, it’s pretty much out the window. Thank you to @burnsoslow for prereading! Please excuse any errors.

Rating: M • Warnings: This series will contain nsfw material, language, some alcohol and drug use, and is not suitable for minors. If you read, you acknowledge you are 18+

Catch up here

After arriving back to their suite and quickly packing their bags for their impromptu weekend trip, Croía and Alia walked out of their building, flanked by their guards who were carrying their bags. Liam had told them not to worry about finding something to bring for the ball because the palace had a boutique with an array of gowns for them to choose from.

“Ready?”

Croía heard his voice and looked up, seeing Liam, grinning as he walked toward her. “Yeah,” she smiled.

They walked to the waiting SUV that was parked at the back entrance of campus and loaded their bags before slipping inside. Anthony, Liam’s guard, promised updates to the others before driving off and heading for the airport.

Liam leaned over to Croía. “I’m really glad you’re coming,” he said before kissing the top of her head.

“Me too,” Croía smiled as she looked at him.

Blaine’s head suddenly poked between them from the back seat. “What about me?” he asked, tapping his cheek to Liam.

Laughing, Liam palmed his face and shoved him back. “I think you have enough to worry about once Lena gets wind you’re there.”

“Why does he need to worry about that?” Croía asked.

Blaine, Alia, and Liam all chuckled. “My sister is absolutely smitten with Blaine, and she makes no attempts to hide it, either.”

Croía stared at him; she found herself a little nervous about meeting the rest of his family. “What are your brother and sister like?”

“Lena is your average, obnoxious little sister,” Liam chuckled. “But she’s a good kid. Leo … Leo is …”

“Awesome,” Blaine laughed.

Liam chuckled. “He’s very carefree and laid back, a bit of a jokester, says what he means and means what he says. And I’m sure he’ll try to embarrass the fuck out of me in front of you.”

“Yeah, he will,” Alia laughed as she and Blaine nodded in agreement.

“So, what are the plans, anyway?” Blaine asked.

“Nothing until the ball tomorrow evening,” Liam subtly rolled his eyes, shaking his head with a small smile. “And then coming back sometime Sunday. So tonight and most of the day tomorrow we can do whatever.”

After a short drive, the SUV pulled up to the tarmac alongside the waiting jet. When Liam exited the vehicle, he was approached by Jackson. “Hello, sir,” Liam chuckled.

Jackson shook his head with a good-natured grin as he shook his hand, then looked at the others that gathered around him. “Rashad and Olivia are already on board with your parents, I just need to add these guys to the manifest. I already know you two,” he nodded with a smile toward Blaine and gave a bow of his head to Alia before gesturing to the jet; they grinned before heading for the stairs.

Liam slid his arm around Croía’s waist. “Croía, this is Jackson Walker, my parent’s head guard. Jackson, this is my girlfriend Croía.”

Jackson bowed his head, already having been made aware of Croía’s title. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well,” Croía smiled.

“Jackson here is like my second father,” Liam chuckled as he looked at her. “You remember my best friend Drake that I told you about, the one that lives in New York with our other friend?” She nodded in reply; he had talked about them on several occasions since she’d first met him. “This is his dad.”

Croía smiled with a nod of understanding as she glanced back at the guard. She already knew her upbringing was different, but hearing that truly solidified it. Liam’s childhood best friend — a man he spoke so highly of, a man he made sound more like a brother than a friend — was a commoner, the son of a guard. Her parents would never. She was barely allowed to associate with their court of nobles let alone anyone her parents deemed beneath them.

“Yes, yes. I can tell you loads of stories about this one growing up,” Jackson tilted his chin toward the Prince.

“Whatever do you mean? I was a saint,” Liam grinned. “Still am.”

Jackson arched a brow and looked at Croía. “You’re not really buying this illusion of perfection, are you?” She laughed as he glanced back at Liam and dropped his voice. “I could write a book.”

Liam smirked. “But you won’t.”

“Can’t,” Jackson corrected him. “It’s in my contract,” he winked as he clapped him on the shoulder before gesturing to the aircraft.

Liam laughed as he and Croía walked toward the jet and climbed the stairs. When they turned the corner into the cabin, he smiled at his parents in the front; Blaine, Alia, Rashad, and Olivia were all in the back.

“Hello, again,” Eleanor smiled. Liam kissed her cheek before shaking his father’s hand. “I’m glad you could make it, Croía.”

“Me too,” Croía smiled. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“We’re glad to have you,” Constantine nodded. “The flight is a couple of hours. Why don’t you two go get settled?”

Liam nodded before he and Croía headed toward the back of the cabin, and after greeting Olivia and Rashad, they settled in their seats. Several minutes later, the aircraft was turning onto the runway. Croía looked out the window as they started to lift into the air; she felt Liam’s hand slip into hers, and she looked at him. “Are you excited?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Croía grinned. “I’ve only ever been to two places outside of Drakovia — New York once, and then school.”

Liam leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “We won’t have time to really explore and show you the sights, but I promise to make it worth your while,” he smiled.

****

A couple of hours later, Liam glanced up at the cabin light above upon hearing the soft chime, signaling the passengers to fasten their seatbelts for landing. He smiled as he looked beside him and gestured to the window. “Welcome to Cordonia.”

Croía looked out the window as Liam leaned forward to peer over her shoulder; the jet dropped from the clouds and the island below came into view. A wide grin spread across her face as she took it in.

Sandy beaches and a bustling city boarded the seaside below, and far off in the distance toward the other side of the island, Croía could just make out the silhouettes of mountain peaks against the dusky sky. As they circled toward the airport, Liam pointed out the palace, perched atop a massive hill above the rest of the city.

“It’s beautiful,” Croía smiled. It truly was. It looked like something out of a dream and not a place she would have expected to visit just a mere few months ago. At that moment, she only wished she had more time to be able to explore it.

When the jet landed, everyone was escorted off to the waiting vehicles. Rashad and Olivia said their goodbyes; they were heading back to their duchies just for the night. The others climbed into the three-row SUV and took off for the palace.

After a short drive, they pulled through the gilded gates at the bottom of the hill; Croía looked out the window, taking in the pristine grounds as they drove up the long drive. When the palace came into view, her eyes slightly widened. No, it wasn’t the first palace she’d seen — she grew up in one — but the welcoming bright colors and Baroque architecture of the Cordonian palace were vastly different in contrast to the dreariness and isolation of the one she grew up in.

The SUV came to a stop outside of the doors and everyone climbed out; they were greeted by staff as they came to retrieve their bags from the motorcade. Croía stared up at the structure in awe.

“Welcome to our home,” Eleanor said as she came beside her.  

Croía looked at her. “It’s beautiful,” she smiled.  

“Wait until you see the inside,” Blaine chuckled from behind her.

“Come on,” Liam grinned, taking her hand and leading her inside.

Croía didn’t think the place could surprise her anymore, but when they stepped into the foyer, it blew her away. A panoply of historical paintings lined the walls, and two massive staircases curved around from either side of the foyer, leading up to the second level. To her left was a great room and what appeared to be a few small offices. To her right, two opulent white and gold doors were opened, leading into an enormous ballroom.

“Li!”

At the sound of the voice, Croía glanced over to see a man walking down one side of the staircase; he had the same height and build as Liam as well as the same blonde hair and blue eyes, and he wore a smile as he approached. There was no doubt who he was, but she waited for the introduction. She looked up at Liam who was grinning as he took a step forward; the two shook hands before pulling one another into a hug, but a moment later, their feet shifted, and in that hug, they began to playfully grapple.

“I can still kick your ass,” the man grumbled through a laugh.

“Bet,” Liam chuckled before swinging his arm up and wrapping it around him in a headlock.

“Whenever you two are done acting like children, there are introductions to be made,” Constantine said.

Liam and the man stood upright with smiles, both combing their hands through their now-disheveled hair. “Missed you, little brother,” the man laughed.

“Missed you, too,” Liam snorted. He glanced over, gesturing with his hand. “You know Blaine and Alia.”

“Alia, you look lovely as always,” Leo crooned, kissing her on the cheek. He then looked at Blaine. “You’re still ugly.”

“Still better looking than you,” Blaine quipped.

“That’s not what your mom—” The man paused, sliding his eyes to Eleanor who was arching a warning brow as Blaine coughed to cover up his laugh. “Heh.”

Liam silently laughed, shaking his head as the man turned back to him; his eyes fell on Croía with a broad grin. “Croía, this is my brother, Leo. Leo, this is Croía.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Leo said as he stepped up and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

“You as well,” Croia smiled.

“Liam here hasn’t shut up about you since the start of the school year when you two got paired up on that project together,” Leo smirked.

Liam’s brows shot up. “That’s not—”

“It’s true,” Leo interrupted. “He talked about you non-stop like a schoolgirl with a crush.”

Blaine and Alia laughed as Liam furrowed his brows; he shook his head, looking at Croía. “I-I didn’t—”

“And he went on and on and on about how beautiful you were,” Leo interrupted again, “but his words didn’t do you justice.” Croía’s cheeks flushed, and beside her, Liam shook his head with a smile, not bothering to try to correct his brother’s exaggeration that time. “So, Trystan Thorne’s baby sister …” He grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. “How is your brother?”

“He’s doing ok,” Croía smiled. “I heard you two were suitemates the year he attended Vancross.”

“We were,” Leo nodded with a grin. “We certainly had our fair share of fun. I’ll have to get his number from you so I can call him and catch up … and to badmouth Liam, of course,” he smirked before dodging a punch from Liam.

“You’re here!” another voice sounded from the top of the stairs. Croía glanced up to see a girl with blonde hair coming down the stairs. When her eyes fell on Blaine, they widened along with her smile as she picked up her pace. She went to Liam and wrapped her arms around him. “Hi.”

“Hey, yourself,” Liam replied as he hugged her back. When she stepped back, she looked at Croía and tilted her head to the side. “Lena, you know Blaine and his girlfriend Alia.” She gave him a sideways glance at his extra emphasis on Alia’s label before smiling at the pair. “And this is Croía. Croía, this is my sister, Lena.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Croía smiled.

“You too,” Lena grinned. “I’m glad to see you’re still with us after Liam cooked you dinner.”

Constantine, Leo, Blaine, and Alia barked out a laugh as Eleanor shook her head with a faint smile. Liam narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you have a tea party or something to go to?”

Lena’s eyes slid to Blaine with a smile. “Nope.”

“Alright,” Eleanor said. “It’s been quite a long day and we have yet to eat. Liam, why don’t you take everyone to your wing to get settled, and you can call down to the kitchens to have something brought up for all of you.” Liam nodded before kissing Eleanor’s cheek. “Lena, have you eaten, sweetheart?”

“No,” Lena replied. “I’ll just go with Liam.”

“No, you won’t,” Liam shook his head.

“Come on! Let me come hang out with you!”

“No, because you’re not coming to hang out with me. Go with Mom and Dad and eat with them.” Liam looked at Leo as they started toward the stairs. “You wanna eat with us?”

“Liam!” Lena bemoaned.

“Don’t worry, little sis,” Leo smirked. “I’ll flirt with Blaine for you,” he laughed. Lena’s cheeks burned as she narrowed her eyes while the others started up the stairs.

When they reached the landing, Leo said he needed to stop in his wing but would meet them at Liam’s before disappearing down a corridor. Blaine and Alia turned one way while Liam, who was holding Croía’s hand, turned another. “Where are you going?” Blaine asked when he realized.

Liam glanced over his shoulder. “I’m not in the east wing anymore,” he replied, gesturing his head for them to follow. As they walked and turned down a few corridors, Croía took in her surroundings; the entire place was luxurious.

“Why did they move you?” Alia asked.

They finally neared the backside of the palace and Liam pushed open a door that led into an antechamber and a set of double doors. “After the abdication, they said I should have a bigger space, so they put me in the south wing.”

Liam pushed open the doors and they stepped inside the sprawling wing. Blaine grinned as he looked around. “Hell yeah, they did!” It was much grander than Liam’s old space.

The first level housed the kitchen, living, and dining areas spread out through an open-concept floor plan; it was painted a deep black, and the floor was a combination of marble and black wood. Near the massive chandelier that hung by the entryway was a staircase leading up to the second floor.

“Ok, Crown Prince,” Blaine rocked his head before feigning a hair flip.

Liam laughed, shaking his head. “They had it remodeled. It didn’t always look like this.” They grabbed their bags that sat at the bottom of the stairs before heading up. He turned to Blaine and Alia once they reached the top. “Guest rooms are down there. Pick whatever one you want.”

“Where’s yours?” Blaine asked, and Liam pointed to a lone door that stood at the end of a small hall at the opposite end of the other longer one in response. “A master suite. Noooice,” he shook his fist.

Liam chuckled. “What did you guys want to do for dinner? I’ll call down to the kitchens while you get situated.”

“I’m good with whatever,” Alia answered.

“Pizza and wings?” Blaine suggested. “Something easy and greasy.”

Liam looked at Croía, who nodded in agreement. “I’ll make the call and meet you guys back down in the living area.”

Blaine and Alia turned to find a room while Liam, still holding Croía’s hand, led her down the other hall. He pushed open the door, and she looked around as they stepped inside the massive bedroom. Like downstairs, it was painted in a deep, rich color. A door leading to a master bath and another leading into a walk-in closet was on one side. A king-sized bed was against the back wall, covered in stone-gray bedding. And along the other side was a set of double doors that led onto a balcony.

“This whole wing is yours?” Croía asked as she moved to look out the balcony door window.

Liam smiled sheepishly as he came up behind her. “When Leo and I turned 18, we got our own wings. Lena will get her own next year. It’s just to give us our own space within the palace. No one comes unannounced … except my mom, only on birthdays, though,” he chuckled. “She lets herself in every year to make a birthday breakfast, and the rest of the family comes to eat. So Sunday, she and the others will let themselves in. But other than that …” He wrapped his arms around her. “It’s my place.”

“It’s amazing. This whole place … I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Your room at your palace isn’t like this?” Liam quipped with a chuckle.

“No,” Croía shook her head. “I have a room. Not a wing. And it looks nothing like this …” She turned in his arms and peered around his broad shoulder. “And I don’t have a king-sized bed.” Liam bit his lip through a smile as he pulled her back until they collapsed on the mattress. “And mine isn’t this soft.”

Liam propped himself up at her side, looking down at her as he smiled. “I know I already said it, but I really am glad that you came.” She smiled up at him as he leaned down, capturing her lips in his. His hand settled on her bare waist where the hem of her shirt had risen as the kiss deepened.

Croía slightly arched into him when his thumb brushed against her stomach. “You have to call down for dinner,” she whispered against his lips before kissing him again.

“Mmm,” Liam hummed with a smile before pulling back. “We can pick this back up later.”

****

A short while later, Liam, Croía, Blaine, Alia, and Leo sat around the living room with various pizzas and flavors of wings set out on the large coffee table. The others caught Leo up on life at Vancross, and Leo asked Croía more about Trystan and his life in New York; he kept his questions as casual as possible, careful not to ask about his banishment from their country or the rumors that went along with it as for the reason why.

A knock on Liam’s door caused them to fall silent for a moment. “It’s probably Lena,” Liam chuckled. “Wanting to hang out.”

“I’ll run her off,” Leo smirked as he stood from his seat. As he rounded the corner to answer the door, the other four continued talking. A moment later, he came back. “Hey, Li …”

Liam looked over his shoulder, and a broad grin spread across his lips. “No fucking way.” He stood, and Croía looked behind her to see two men standing on either side of Leo, both with grins of their own as Liam approached them.

“Hey, brother,” the one man said as Liam shook his hand and pulled him into a tight embrace.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” Liam asked as he stepped back and moved to the other man, greeting him the same.

“Like we’d miss your birthday weekend,” the second man chuckled.

“You didn’t have to come all the way home for this,” Liam shook his head as he stepped back. Despite his words, Croía could hear a happiness in his tone that said he was glad they were there. “You guys hungry?” He asked, gesturing to the pizza and wings.

“Starving!” the second man said as he walked by Liam, rubbing his hands together. “Hey, Blaine. Alia,” he smiled as he greeted them. He then looked at Croía. “I don’t think I know you …”

Liam chuckled as he, Leo, and the other man approached. “You know Blaine and Alia,” Liam said, gesturing to the pair on the loveseat; the first man tipped his chin toward them in silent greeting. “And this,” he said, taking Croía’s hand, helping her to stand to bring her beside him; he slipped an arm around her waist. “Is Croía. Croía, that’s Maxwell,” he pointed to the one now shoving a slice of pizza into his mouth; she chuckled with a wave before looking at the other man. “And this is Drake.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Drake said, tilting his chin toward Liam with a grin. “Nice to meet ya.”

“You as well,” Croía smiled. “And Liam’s talked a lot about you, too.”

“I told her how Liam hasn’t shut up about her,” Leo chimed in. “Isn’t that right, Drake?”

“Oh, yeah.” Drake knitted his brows, nodding as he sucked in a breath; he knew what Leo was doing, and what kind of guy would he be if he didn’t give his best friend a hard time every once in a while? “He’s had it real bad for you from day one.”

“Really?” Liam scoffed, cutting his eyes to Drake. “You too?”

Drake shrugged, clapping Liam’s shoulder. “Honestly, Croía, this poor little prince has been a walking hard-on for you,” he snorted as he dodged out of the way of Liam’s fist. Blaine choked, spraying beer from his nose from the sip he’d just taken as Leo threw his head back with a bark of laughter.

Liam looked at Croía, shaking his head as he stifled a laugh. “Please ignore these assholes that I call my friends and family.”

****

After visiting with Drake and Maxwell for a few hours, the two-headed home for the night; they made plans to meet up with the others at the private beach the next morning to relax and hang out before Liam’s birthday ball. Leo went back to his wing and the other four called it a night.

Once changed, Liam sprawled out on the bed and closed his eyes; it was much larger and more comfortable than the one in his suite back at Vancross.

Croía stepped out of the bathroom after changing and brushing her teeth, walking around to the other side of the bed. She clicked off the light on the nightstand and slipped beneath the comforter, letting out a content sigh a moment later. “I think this bed is the softest thing I’ve ever laid on.”

Liam looked over at her and began scooting closer. “I’m glad, but you’re too far away.” She giggled when he draped his arm over her waist, pulling her back flush against his bare chest and molding her body to his. “That’s better,” he whispered into the crook of her neck. Croía tilted her head back; a stream of moonlight coming through the balcony door illuminated his face, allowing her to make out his smile. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow kiss. When he drew back, he brushed the tip of his nose against hers. “Where were we earlier?”

Croía quietly chuckled as his lips found her neck and his fingers grazed her thigh beneath the hem of the shorts she was wearing.

*******

Croía felt the bed shift and her eyes fluttered open to see Liam sitting on the edge beside her. “Good morning, beautiful,” he smiled, leaning down to smother a kiss against her cheek.

“Morning,” Croía smiled. When he drew back, she saw a sparkle in his eye as he grinned. “What?”

“I like waking up with you in my bed,” Liam chuckled before kissing her lips.

Croía smiled. “You’ve woken up with me in your bed before.”

“Yeah, but not here … in my home … in Cordonia. It feels different,” Liam grinned.

“You’re so cute,” Croía giggled.

Liam smiled, leaning down to trail his lips up her neck before finding hers again. When he drew back, he brushed his hand across her cheek. “We’re going to eat breakfast then head down to the private beach to meet the others. Leo and Lena are both tagging along.”

“Ok,” Croía nodded as she sat up in bed.

****

At the beach, Croía lounged beside Alia in a chair; on her other side was Olivia, and next to her was Lena. On the sand, the guys were playing a three-on-three game of volleyball — Liam, Blaine, and Drake against Rashad, Leo, and Maxwell.

When they first arrived, Croía sat and talked with Drake and Maxwell, getting to know Liam’s two oldest friends a little more. They told her about school and life in New York, and Drake talked about Riley, who had been unable to make the trip due to work she couldn’t get out of. They told her stories about them growing up while playfully poking fun at Liam a bit more, but also telling her about what a great person he was.

Croía smiled to herself as she watched Liam laughing and joking with his friends and brother. She’d never met anyone so well-liked by so many people. He was the golden boy at Vancross but here in Cordonia as well; the people’s Prince and future King, a bright spot in the lives of his friends and family. It wasn’t like she couldn’t see why, though. From the moment she had met him, he treated her with nothing but respect and kindness, two things she hadn’t exactly been used to. And he continued to treat her in ways she wasn’t used to … to make her feel things she wasn’t used to.

The way Croía felt about Liam was something she had never felt before; not too long ago, it wasn’t something she’d even thought possible for herself with the way she had been isolated in Drakovia. And her feelings seemed to grow stronger every day, but as someone treading in very unfamiliar territory, she wasn’t sure exactly what to call it. Sure, she’d heard about love, she’d read about it in stories and watched it play out on television screens, but she’d never experienced it. Maybe it wasn’t yet something that she could call love, but it was, at the least, heady infatuation.

“Hey,” Liam’s voice pulled Croía from her musings and she glanced up as he approached her, shading her eyes from the sun. He leaned down, kissing her cheek. “Want to go for a walk with me? There’s something I want to show you.”

“Sure,” Croía smiled.

“We’ll be back,” Liam called out to the others as he helped her to stand from the lounge chair.

As the pair walked down the beach hand-in-hand, Drake watched as he stood next to Blaine. “If he’s going where I think he’s going … that’s a pretty big deal.”

Blaine furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say he’s never taken anyone else there before … ever.”

“Not even Kennedy?” Blaine questioned, not sure of the ‘where’ he was even referring to. “All those times she came to visit?”

Drake shook his head. “Not even her.”

“Well shit,” Blaine chuckled, looking back as Liam and Croía disappeared into a pathway between the trees. “Our boy’s in lurve.”

****

Liam silently led Croía along the path deep into the trees that bordered the beach. “Where are we going?” she finally asked.

“It’s just up here,” Liam replied.

A few moments later, Croía could make out a burble of water; it continued to grow louder the deeper they walked into the path until the sound surrounded them. She glanced around but saw nothing of its source until he veered off the pathway.

Liam led her to a clearing, and glanced down, watching her face light up at the sight. “This is the Forgotten Falls.”

Croía grinned as they walked toward the edge of the plunge pool, looking up at the massive waterfall. “Liam, this is amazing!”

“There’s a folklore behind it,” Liam said. “The story goes that hundreds of years ago there were two lovers from warring clans. They were forbidden from being together, but they would meet here, at this hidden cove, and make their plans to run away together. When the day came for them to leave, they vowed to meet here at dawn. When dawn came, the woman waited and waited, but her lover never appeared. It’s said that he was caught by her people and killed. But she never had the heart to leave this spot. So she knelt on the cliffs and wept, and her tears became the waterfall … until that’s all that was left of her.”

“That’s beautiful. Heartbreaking … but beautiful,” Croía smiled sadly.

“Well, there’s a little silver lining,” Liam smiled. Croía could hear a hint of mischief in his tone and looked over at him. “It’s said that if two lovers climb to the top of the waterfall—” he pointed up to it “—and jump in together, they’ll get the blessing of the lady of the waterfall.”

Croía chuckled as she looked back at the falls; her gaze abruptly snapped back to him once she realized what he was saying. “You want to jump?”

Liam nodded with a grin. “If you’re up for it, that is.”

Croía looked back at the falls again, glancing up at the high cliff above. “And we have to climb? There’s no other way up?”

“We have to climb,” Liam nodded, taking her hand and leading her toward the wall of rocks and vines; she glanced at him, mirroring his smile as she gave a nod. “You go first, and I’ll be right behind you.”

Liam helped Croía get situated on the first few notches on the wall, pointing out a clear path for her to go up; she scaled, and he followed right behind, watching her carefully to make sure she didn’t slip. After several long minutes, she disappeared over the ledge; Liam’s head popped up, and he smiled at her as he hoisted himself onto the edge of the cliff.

“How was that?”

“Not bad,” Croía chuckled. They both stood and she peered over the edge. “I didn’t realize how high up we were.”

“If you can do the skycoaster at the amusement park, this will be a piece of cake,” Liam smiled, reaching out his hand.

Croía took it, and he laced their fingers together as they took several steps back. “Are you sure the water is deep enough down there? How many times have you jumped off this?”

“It’s deep enough, I promise,” Liam chuckled. “And by myself, I’ve jumped loads of times.”

“And with someone else?”

Liam glanced at her, his blue eyes sparkling against the sun. “Never,” he smiled. No, she might not pick up on the significance of that, but he knew. “Ready?” She nodded and they looked straight ahead. “Three … two … one!”

They took off in a run and flung themselves over the edge; Croía let out a scream as they fell, and Liam laughed beside her before they hit the plunge pool with a splash.

When they surfaced above the water, Liam wiped the water from his face and looked at her with a grin. “Verdict?”

“Amazing,” Croía chuckled.

****

After several more jumps off the cliff, Liam and Croía stood in the plunge pool; his feet were anchored in the sand with her legs and arms wrapped around him as he held her tightly. She glanced up at the falls above them. “Do you believe it?” she asked as she glanced back at him. “The folklore behind it?”

“I’m sure along the way any truth became stretched and fabricated to sell the tale.” Liam chuckled when she gave him a look. “I believe in the message about love behind it.” He smiled sheepishly.

Croía held his gaze as that question she’d been asking herself floated in her mind. “Have … have you ever been …”

“In love?” Liam questioned, and she nodded. He smiled, scanning over the details of her face before meeting her gaze again. “I thought I had been … but I’m not sure that’s exactly what it was.”

Liam wasn’t sure because what he felt before didn’t feel like this. It didn’t make him feel the way he felt when he was with Croía. His feelings for her had grown into something he never saw coming, and it happened rather quickly. If what he felt before was love, this was a vastly different kind of it, so different that there wasn’t even a comparison to make between his past and present.

Leaning in, Liam captured her lips in his; when he drew back, she rested her forehead against his. “We should probably head back. We’ll be leaving soon to go get ready for the ball.” Croía nodded, kissing him once more as he lowered her to stand in the water, feeling him smile against her lips.

****

That evening, Liam and Blaine stood in the living area of the wing, waiting for Alia and Croía. When they returned from the beach, the two had gone into the palace boutique with Lena to pick out their gowns.

“They’re probably doing each other’s hair,” Blaine chuckled.

Liam laughed, glancing down at his watch. “We have plenty of time. It’s not a typical ball anyway; there’s no receiving line or announcing anyone in. I asked them to keep it as casual as possible.”

“A casual ball,” Blaine snorted. “Sounds like a bit of an oxymoron to me.”

“Look at you using your big words,” Liam teased, laughing when Blaine flipped him off.

Just then, Alia rounded the corner from the stairwell; Blaine grinned as he took in the sight of her wearing a champagne-colored fitted twist front halter top gown. “Baby,” he crooned as he approached her. “You look damn good.” Liam nodded his agreement as he offered her a smile.

“Thanks,” Alia giggled before kissing him.

A moment later, Croía came into view and Liam’s heart stuttered. She wore a one-shoulder A-line gown with a thigh-high slit in a dusty shade of mauve. Her hair was loosely swept back in an effortless low-twisted bun with a few curled tendrils falling to frame her face. It was the first time he’d seen her this way, the simple yet elegant dolled-up version of the Princess of Drakovia. “You look …” Liam trailed off, his smile growing with each sweep of his eyes. “Wow.”

Blaine laughed. “I think the word he’s looking for is—”

“Incredible,” Liam interrupted with a sheepish smile. “You look incredible.” He approached her, leaning down to place a tender kiss on her lips.

Croía’s cheeks blushed. “Thank you.”

“Shall we?” Liam smiled, holding out his arm. Croía chuckled as she switched her clutch into her other hand and linked her arm through his.

****

More than halfway through the ball, Croía headed to the bar to get a refill. Despite it being a ball, the evening was as Liam promised: casual and laid back. It wasn’t something she was used to seeing. When balls were held in Drakovia, which wasn’t very often, the atmosphere was entirely different.

For starters, everything had to be perfect and grandeur beyond reason. The timing for every moment of the ball was planned down to the wire; nothing was to go a second more or less. Her parents would sit predatorily in their thrones on the dais the entire evening, eyeing the guests as if they were prey. They greeted no one until they came to them, and even then their conversations were no more than a mere nod of acknowledgment to their subjects, perhaps a hummed hello if they liked them enough. The few dances they allowed were all traditional choreographed numbers. And Croía was expected to be barely seen and never heard; it’s what had made sneaking out so easy … until it wasn’t. After the incident where her sister caught her and the son of her mother’s guard, she was not allowed to leave the dais beside her mother unless she was asked to dance in one of those choreographed numbers, which was a rare occurrence.

This ball, however, was unlike one she’d ever seen. The King and Queen of Cordonia wandered around the room, greeting every guest with smiles, taking time to speak with each of them as if they were all old friends. There had been only one choreographed number — The Cordonian Waltz — at the beginning of the evening to officially commemorate the start of the ball. After that, Liam stayed with Croía and his friends, laughing, drinking, and dancing, but spoke with the guests in attendance, introducing her to each of them, and thanking them for coming to celebrate his birthday.  

As she waited for her drink, Croía’s eyes fell on the table that housed the multi-tiered birthday cake that was now cut into; the crowd had gathered around it not too long ago to sing happy birthday to Liam. It was beside another table that was piled with gifts, despite Liam’s request that in lieu of gifts, a donation be made to one of his charities instead. It was another reminder of how much his court adored him.

Just as Croía grabbed her drink, she felt a pair of hands curl around her waist, and she smiled when Liam nuzzled into her neck. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

“I am,” Croía chuckled.

“Want to go get some fresh air with me before the fireworks?”

“Sure,” Croía nodded. She followed Liam toward a set of doors, setting her clutch and drink down on one of the tables before taking his offered hand. He led her out onto the balcony, nodding to a few others who were out there as he headed toward the stairs. “Where are we going?”

“I want to show you one of my favorite places,” Liam smiled. He guided her away from the palace toward an entrance between a row of hedges that arched to create a canopy above a pathway. “My mother designed this maze,” he said as they started down the path; it was lined with lights, as was the canopy above them. “I used to come in here and stay for hours … and Drake and I would play maze-tag,” he chuckled.  

“Maze-tag?” Croía giggled.

Liam looked at her with a lopsided grin. “Yeah,” he nodded. “We’d run through to the large tree at the center of the maze.” His grin grew. “Wanna play?”

“I don’t know where I’m going,” Croía chuckled as she looked up at him. “You would already have an advantage.”

“I’ll give you a head start,” Liam smiled. “I’ll even turn around so I don’t see which way you go.”

The playful spark in his eyes caused Croía to laugh; she turned to face him, walking backward as he bit his lip through a grin. “Turn around then.”

A low rumble of mischievous laughter escaped Liam as he rubbed his hands together and turned his back to her. Croía slipped off her heels to quiet her steps before turning and sprinting down the pathway to the first split. She veered left and kept running, to where she didn’t know. The center. A large tree. That’s all she knew.

Croía took a right, another right, and then a left, glancing over her shoulder; she could hear his footsteps, but couldn’t tell which direction they were coming from.

“Oh, Croía,” Liam loudly singsonged, causing a giggle to erupt from her as she continued to run. When she took another right, she halted to a stop when Liam came around the opposite bend. “Fancy running into you here,” he smirked. She eyed the entrance to the next path and she knew it had to be the one to the center just by the way he was also eyeing it. She took off toward it as he did the same, both laughing. “No, you don’t!” He lunged for her but she dodged his grasp with a melodious laugh, and he swore he could listen to that sound all night … for the rest of his life … and never tire of it.

With Liam hot on her heels, Croía raced toward a large tree she could see beyond the pathway. She turned as she exited the hedges into the clearing and he swept her into his arms as she laughed again; he swung her around before placing her back on her feet.

Croía turned and a soft breath fell from her lips; the center of the maze was covered in dim twinkling lights and flowers. A large-flowered rope swing hung from the tree, which was also wrapped in lights. “This is beautiful.”

“Do you have mazes at your palace?” Liam asked.

“Yeah,” Croía nodded. “But they look nothing like this … they have more of a horror film vibe.” Liam laughed as he slipped an arm around her waist. Just then, a whistling sound pulled their attention to the sky; the first of the midnight fireworks went off, exploding in the air and sending streams of gold down. She turned in his arms as they wrapped around her and she looped hers around his neck. “Happy birthday, Liam.”

Liam smiled. “Thank you.”

Leaning down, Liam captured her lips in his. Sure, he had been surrounded by family and friends celebrating him that night, but that particular moment with Croía was what made his heart feel so full he thought it might burst. And that feeling further solidified what he knew was happening.

Drawing back, Liam met her gaze when her eyes fluttered open; he smiled as he brushed his lips against hers. “Come on,” he said, taking her hand in his. “We don’t want to miss the whole show.”

****

That evening, after the ball had ended, Croía and Liam headed back to his wing with the others; Drake and Maxwell were staying the night to have breakfast with everyone in the morning before they headed back to New York.

After changing out of her gown, Croía had realized she’d left her clutch down in the ballroom; Liam had offered to go get it for her, but she told him she’d run down.

Once she had retrieved her clutch from the table she’d left it on, Croía headed up the grand staircase, back toward Liam’s wing. “Croía?” She glanced up upon hearing her name to see Eleanor standing at the end of the main corridor, holding two full bags in her hands. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh … yes,” Croía nodded. “I just left my clutch in the ballroom.”

Eleanor nodded as Croía fell into step beside her. “Did you enjoy yourself this evening?”

“I did,” Croía smiled before she glanced down curiously at the heavy bags in her hands.

“I had to raid the big kitchen for some ingredients,” Eleanor chuckled.

“For breakfast?” Croía asked, and Eleanor nodded. “Liam told me you make him breakfast every year,” she smiled.

“Well these—” Eleanor struggled to raise the bags “—are for one dish in particular. Liam has quite an affinity for baklava, so while it’s a dessert, I’ve always made some for him for his breakfast every year,” she chuckled.

“Let me help you with those,” Croía offered to take one of the bags. “They look heavy.”

“Thank you,” Eleanor smiled appreciatively, handing one to her. “I know it’s late … but if you’re up for it, would you like to help me with the baklava? I can show you how to make it for him should you feel like spoiling him one day,” she chuckled.

Croía met her gaze and smiled. “I’d like that.”

Eleanor led her to the west wing of the palace and into the King and Queen’s quarters, and Croía looked around as she followed behind her. She was surprised to find it a little smaller than Liam’s; it had a similar layout and was just as grand but in a simpler, more homey way. She glanced over to the open living area as they walked to the kitchen; the first things she noticed were the walls and fireplace mantle decorated with family photographs. Again, her parents would never; they didn’t have a single photograph of any of their children on display.

Croía set the bag on the counter next to the one Eleanor had set down and placed her clutch on an empty stool. “We’re not going to wake His Majesty, are we?”

Eleanor laughed as she began to empty the bags. “No. That man can sleep through a bomb.” Croía laughed before looking over at the edge of another counter where a trio of framed photographs sat; they were all of Eleanor, each photo with one of her children when they were younger, helping her in the kitchen. She giggled when she saw Liam’s; he was covered in a deep red substance. “I was teaching him how to make jam,” she chuckled. “He made quite the mess as you can see.”

Croía glanced back at her. “You’re very close with all of them,” she smiled. Even Leo, who Croía knew wasn’t biologically hers, seemed to have such a strong bond with her. She wondered what that felt like … to have that close of a relationship with a parent.

“They drive me up the wall sometimes,” Eleanor chuckled. “But I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

“Liam’s always spoken very fondly of you and about how close you two are.”

Eleanor smiled at her. “And he speaks just as fondly about you.” She noticed the blush that crept up Croía’s cheeks as she smiled sheepishly … and she also noticed the look in her eyes. She knew that look and what it meant, and she felt her heart swell a bit for her son. “Alright,” she smiled, stepping away to grab two aprons from a hook; she handed one to Croía. “First thing … the phyllo dough …”

*******

The following morning, Liam awoke to Croía nestled in the crook of his arm, sound asleep. Not remembering her coming to bed, he winced, realizing he had fallen asleep before she’d gotten back from grabbing her clutch; he hoped she hadn’t gotten lost. He softly kissed her forehead before slowly slipping from the bed, careful not to wake her. After throwing on a shirt, he crept out of his room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Liam quietly padded down the hall from his bedroom and down the stairs, smelling the aroma that wafted in the air; he knew exactly what to expect once he rounded the corner. As he suspected, he chuckled when he saw Eleanor in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. “Good morning.”

Eleanor turned with a grin. “Good morning,” she replied as he greeted her with a kiss on her cheek. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” Liam smiled as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He inhaled the scent of the French toast she was making as he turned back to the counter; his eyes scanned the food already prepared for what he knew was there. When he spotted it, he grinned and grabbed a small plate, layering two slices of baklava onto it before taking a seat on the stool.

“You can’t even wait for the others?” Eleanor chuckled when she turned, watching him take his first bite.

Liam covered his mouth as he chewed, hiding his grin behind a fist. “It’s my birthday,” he laughed.

Eleanor shook her head with a good-natured grin. “And how is it?”

“Amazing, as always,” Liam chuckled. “Thank you.”

“Well, you’ll have to thank Croía, too,” Eleanor smiled, and Liam gave her a curious look. She turned back, checking the food on the stove. “I saw her last night on her way back from the ballroom after she retrieved her clutch. I asked her if she’d like to help me. We talked a little while we made it.”

Liam looked down at the plate as a warm smile curled on his lips. “Thank you … for being so welcoming to her.” When Eleanor turned back, she gave him a look, and he chuckled. “I know it’s how you treat everyone, but to her … I can almost guarantee it means so much more than you just simply being nice.”

Eleanor studied him thoughtfully as the thoughts she had the night before crept back into her mind. “You really care about her … more than I’ve seen before. Not that you didn’t care about others in the past, but this … seems different for you.”

Liam let out a breathy laugh as he glanced back down at his plate; he stayed quiet for a moment before the words came tumbling out. “I think … I think I’m in love with her …” When he looked back at his mother, she was smiling. “I know it might sound crazy—”

“Why would it sound crazy?” Eleanor questioned.

“Because I know it probably seems soon … we’ve only been seeing each other for a few months, but …” Liam shook his head. “I don’t know. I thought I’d been in love before … but it wasn’t … it didn’t feel like this.”

“Perhaps you should talk to her …”

“I don’t want to say anything yet,” Liam shook his head. “I don’t know how she feels. And I know this is all new for her, so I don’t want to … spook her or make her feel like I’m trying to rush things to a place she might not be ready for.”

Eleanor was fairly certain she knew how Croía felt for him, but she didn’t want to insert her opinion. This was something Liam needed to figure out on his own. “Well … just be patient with her then,” she smiled.

Just then, the door to Liam’s wing burst open; Constantine, Leo, and Lena trailed inside. “There he is!” Leo grinned. He came behind Liam and wrapped his arm around him in a chokehold. “Happy birthday.”

Liam chuckled, receiving more birthday wishes from his father and sister. “Thank you.”

“I smell bacon,” a voice came from the archway. Liam glanced over to see Blaine with a sleepy grin standing next to Alia.

“I smell it too,” Drake mumbled as he strode into the room. He, Blaine, and Alia greeted the royal family and wished their friend a happy birthday before moving to the coffee pot.

“Happy birthday!” Maxwell grinned as he rounded the corner.

“Thank you,” Liam chuckled. A moment later, Croía walked around the corner, and he grinned when her eyes fell on him. She greeted everyone else as she made her way towards where he sat on the stool at the counter; his arm curled around her waist as hers went around his shoulders, and he pulled her to him. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Croía smiled. “Happy birthday.”

Liam placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Thank you.” He turned toward the counter a moment later, watching as the others began to load their plates. “And I hear I also have you to thank for this,” he said as he grabbed another slice of baklava.

Croía glanced at Eleanor, sharing a smile with her before looking back at Liam. “You’re welcome, but your mom did most of the work. But she did show me how to make it.”

Liam grinned as he kissed her cheek. “Do you want coffee?”

“I can get it.”

“I’ll get it for you.”

“It’s your birthday. Get your breakfast,” Croía chuckled. She moved to the coffee pot while Liam filled a plate; she made herself a plate a moment later and joined him and the others.

Eleanor smiled as she looked at the crowded table, her heart feeling full.

****

The staff loaded bags into a waiting SUV as Blaine, Alia, Croía, Rashad, and Olivia said their goodbyes to Liam’s family; Drake and Maxwell had left an hour beforehand, catching their flight back to New York.

Liam made his rounds to his father, Leo, and Lena before stopping in front of his mother. “Thank you,” he said as he hugged her.

“You’re welcome,” Eleanor smiled. “I’m glad you had a decent birthday.”

“It was perfect,” Liam grinned as he stepped back. “I’ll see you guys soon.”

“Break, right?” Eleanor said.

Liam nodded. “We have the ski trip in a few weeks followed by a long weekend the week after, those last four days for exams, then break.”

Eleanor smiled. “Well, I’m sure I’ll talk to you beforehand, but just in case, be careful on your ski trip.”

“It’s just a weekend ski trip,” Liam chuckled. “What could go wrong?”

#choices crossover series #the royal romance #trr #choices trr #choices the royal romance #liam rys #prince liam rys #trr liam #choices liam #choices liam rys #liam x oc #trr liam x oc #choices liam x oc #choices foreign affairs #choices blaine #blaine hayes #choices crimes of passion #choices trystan #trystan thorne #trr fanfic #trr fan fic #choices trr fanfic #trr fanfiction #trr au #choices trr au #choices au fanfic #trr au fanfic #cfwc fics of the week

[choicesseptemberchallenge2023]

Choices September Challenge Masterlist

• OPEN HEART :

What Could Have Been (9/9) by @liaromancewriter [Day 7] (Ethan Ramsey x F!MC)

Public & Private by @liaromancewriter [Day 14] (Ethan Ramsey x F!MC; Sienna Trinh x M!OC)

Sadie's Self-Care Sunday#40 by @peonyblossom [Day 6] (Ethan Ramsey x F!MC)

Predictable by @jerzwriter [Day 9] (Ethan Ramsey x F!OC; Tobias Carrick x F!MC)

Her Secret Weapon by @jerzwriter [Day 18] (Tobias Carrick x F!MC)

Shopisticated by @liaromancewriter [Day 14] (Ethan Ramsey x F!MC)

A Special One by @zealouscanonindeer [Day 3] (Ethan Ramsey x F!MC)

By Chance: The Morning After by @jerzwriter [Day 7] (Tobias Carrick x F!MC)

Movie Night by @jerzwriter [Day 22] (Tobias Carrick x F!MC; Bryce Lahela x M!MC)

Love Bites by @liaromancewriter [Day 21] (Ethan Ramsey x F!MC)

Fairytales by @liaromancewriter [Day 22] (Sienna Trinh x M!OC)

Summer's Kiss by @peonierose [Day 3] (Bryce Lahela x F!OC)

What Could Have Been? by @zealouscanonindeer [Day 19] (Ethan Ramsey x F!MC)

High Seas (2/2) by @jerzwriter [Day 2] (Ethan Ramsey, Tobias Carrick)

Not Meant To Be by @zealouscanonindeer [Day 20] (Ethan Ramsey x F!MC)

What's Cooking? by @jerzwriter [Day 16] (Ethan Ramsey x F!MC)

A Quick Study by @jerzwriter [Day 5] (F!MC x F!OC)

Bookcase Corner by @potionsprefect [Day 19] (Ethan Ramsey x F!MC)

Know It All by @jerzwriter [Day 25] (Bryce Lahela, F!MC)

Celebrate by @jerzwriter [Day 22] (Ethan Ramsey x F!MC; Tobias Carrick)

Recovery by @jerzwriter [Day 25] (Ethan Ramsey, Tobias Carrick)

The Great Outdoors by @jerzwriter [Day 2] (Tobias Carrick x F!MC)

Produce-ing A Laugh by @jerzwriter [Day 22] (Ethan Ramsey, Tobias Carrick)

Our Little Girl by @storyofmychoices [Day 21] (Bryce Lahela x F!MC)

It Was A Date by @liaromancewriter [Day 8] (Ethan Ramsey x F!MC)

Private Matters by @liaromancewriter [Day 14] (Ethan Ramsey x F!MC)

Taking Care Of Business by @liaromancewriter [Day 25] (Ethan Ramsey x F!MC)

• BLADES OF LIGHT AND SHADOW :

Shadows of Hope by @storyofmychoices [Day 1] (Mal Volari x F!MC)

Go On, Feel It by @storyofmychoices [Day 1, Day 21] (Mal Volari x F!MC)

Her Legacy by @storyofmychoices [Day 1, Day 4, Day 7] (Mal Volari x F!MC)

The Quest For Daenarya by @storyofmychoices [Day 21, Day 30] (Mal Volari x F!MC)

Love Is Love Is Love by @storyofmychoices [Day 21] (Mal Volari x F!MC)

• THE ROYAL ROMANCE :

Smoke And Mirrors by @tessa-liam [Day 6] (Liam Rys x F!MC)

Turning The Page by @tessa-liam [Day 30] (Liam Rys x F!MC)

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 15 by @karahalloway [Day 25] (Drake Walker x F!OC)

Marabelle by @tessa-liam [Day 4] (Liam Rys x F!OC)

• PERFECT MATCH :

Saffron Sugar, Turmeric Spice by @lizzybeth1986 [Day 14] (F!Hayden x Poly M!MC, F!Hayden x F!OC)

Harvest Moon by @lizzybeth1986 [Day 4] (M!MC x F!Hayden, Basil Park x Sloanne Washington, Kim Washington)

• CRIMES OF PASSION :

A Moment In Time by @jerzwriter [Day 4] (M!Trystan Thorne x F!MC)

#choices monthly challenge #choices september challenge 2023 #choicesmonthlychallenge #choicesseptemberchallenge2023

[springfeverpitch]

From the host... This was such a fun event! I can't thank our talented creators enough for making SFP such a success! I thought I was simply hosting an event, but rather, I got to chat and get to know know several of y'all, and in turn, you blessed me! Thank you for sharing your gifts and creativity! Hugs all around! 🖤

Please go check out these fics! Give them a like, reblog and/or a comment! You will really make someone's day brighter!

Also, don't forget to check out the stories from the Home Team!

⚾- Fic created with the help of the Concession Stand

🔞 These stories are intended for mature audiences only. 🔞

The First Kiss ⚾ - @twinkleallnight

Location: Domestic, Fun

The Royal Romance; Drake Walker x Olivia Nevrakis

Paint the Night (Colourblind) - @socalwriterbee

Location: Water

The Nanny Affair; m!Sam Dalton x MC (Marie Castro)

We're Still Friends - @txemrn

Location: Work/School

Open Heart; Ethan Ramsey x f!OC (Tatum Erikson)

Wildflower ⚾ - @peonierose

Location: Domestic

Open Heart; f!MC (Keiki Lahela) x m!OC (Koa Haulani)

Sweet Escape - @socalwriterbee

Location: Work/School

Witness: A Bodyguard Romance; m!Cassian Keane x f!MC/OC (Viviana "Ana" Marin)

Fever - @ofmischiefandmedicine

Location: Water

Open Heart; Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Laura Levchenko)

The Lighthouse ⚾ - @socalwriterbee

Location: Fun, Water

The Royal Romance; Maxwell Beaumont x Olivia Nevrakis

Pearls - @txemrn

Location: Domestic

The Royal Romance; Liam Rys x MC (Riley Brooks-Rys)

Conquest - @the-pale-goddess

Location: Fun

Open Heart; Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Tiffany Addams)

The Long Way Home - @cariantha

Location: Water

Open Heart; Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Sawyer Brooks)

Sleepless in New York, Chapter 10: Darkfall - @karahalloway

Location: Domestic

The Royal Romance; Drake Walker x f!OC (Harper Gale)

Ti Amo Molto ⚾ - @tessa-liam

Location: Fun, Water

The Royal Romance; Liam Rys x MC (Riley Brooks-Rys)

A Wild Ride - @kristinamae093

Location: Fun

The Royal Romance; Liam Rys x MC (Riley Brooks)

~⚾~

#spring fever pitch #choices spring fever pitch #choices fanfic event #choices sfp #sm*tty challenge

[moodmusicmonday]

Luck of the Draw 2023 MASTERLIST

It's HERE! It's finally here, and we are THRILLED to share this Masterlist! Our fandom is so creative, and we know, this is just a fraction of the talent we possess. To our creators: Y'ALL ARE AMAZING! These turned out so incredibly good, and we can't thank you enough for participating in this year's event! We love each of you dearly!

Please check out the playlist of submitted songs, and don't forget to check out the submissions below the cut! There is something there for EVERYONE... seriously! And when you check these out, support these creators! Leave them a like or a message of encouragement! It would mean the world to them!

*We are waiting on just a couple of more submissions. We will add you on when we receive your submission.

---

📚📖 Fanfics & Poetry 📖📚

Almost submitted by @socalwriterbee

Open Heart; Ethan Ramsey x f!OC (Tessa Martinez)

"Unfinished Business (acoustic)" by Neriah, JC Stewart

Always Lover submitted by @peonyblossom

America's Most Eligible; Carson Stewart x f!MC (Juliet James)

"Almost Lover" by A Fine Frenzie

The Commoner's Wife, Chapter 6: Three Blind Mice; submitted by @dcbbw

The Royal Romance/Heir; Liam Rys x f!MC (Riley), Drake Walker x f!MC (Riley)

"Just Say When" by Nothing More

Falling For You submitted by @queenrileyrose

The Royal Romance; MC (Riley) x ??? (former); Liam Rys x MC (Riley)

"Freaking My Out" by Ava Max

If Only I Could submitted by @cariantha

Open Heart; Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Sawyer Brooks)

"The Enemy" by Andrew Belle

Right by Your Side submitted by @alj4890

The Royal Romance; Maxwell Beaumont x MC (Riley)

"Runaway" by P!nk

Somewhere Else submitted by @txemrn

The Nanny Affair; m!Sam Dalton x MC (Brynn Schuyler); m!Robin Flores x MC (Brynn Schuyler)

"Paris" by Taylor Swift

WTD Drabble submitted by @lilyoffandoms

Wake the Dead; Troy Hassan x m!MC (Saeed)

"Because You Loved Me" by Celine Dion

---

🖌🎨 Moodboards & Edits 🎨🖌

If Only... submitted by @twinkleallnight

The Royal Romance; Liam Rys & Queen Eleanor

"Hollow as a Bone" - Cowboy Junkies

"Moral of the Story" by Ashe submitted by @tessa-liam

Rules of Engagement

Viva Las Vegas submitted by @peonierose

Open Heart; Soraya Auclair (F!OC) x Meilani Leahi (F!OC)

"More Than Words" by Extreme

---

#luck of the draw #mood music monday #choices luck of the draw #mmm luck of the draw #mmm lotd #lotd #choices mood music monday #luck of the draw masterlist #Spotify

[choicesflashfics]

Week 39 Prompts:

“You’re the most ridiculous person I know and, God, do I love you for it.”

“I don’t know what we are, but I miss what we were.”

“Why aren’t you wearing your wedding ring?”

To Love Again Part 5: The Walker Family - @petiteboheme (The Royal Romance; Drake x F!MC)

Midnights Like This Part Nine: Can This Be a Real Thing? - @queenrileyrose (The Royal Romance/Rules of Engagement; Leo x F!OC / Liam x F!MC)

A Celebration - @jerzwriter (Crimes of Passion; Trystan Thorne x F!MC)

…Sometimes Not (Part 5) - Back To How It Used To Be - @ao719 (The Royal Romance; Liam x F!OC)

Passing Time - @liaromancewriter (Open Heart; Ethan Ramsey x F!MC)

Wedding Ring Mishap - @liaromancewriter (Open Heart; Sienna Trinh x M!OC)

#choicesflashfics #choices fanfiction #choices fanfic #choices prompt challenge #choices #playchoices #week 39

[choicespride]

Choices Pride 2023 Week 2 Masterlist

✏️ = fic; 🖌️ = art; 📌 = edit

Laws of Attraction

Happy Pride from Ricci & Associates - Gabe Ricci x Sav Zarza x Aislinn Tanaka - submitted by @peonyblossom; drawn by @weetlebeetle 🖌️

Open Heart

A Family Affair - Tobias Carrick x f!MC (Casey MacTavish) - @jerzwriter ✏️

The Royal Romance

In Your Room Extra: Dreo - Drake Walker x Leo Rys - submitted by @angelasscribbles; commissioned by @harleybeaumont; drawn by @rosefuckinggenius 🖌️

Crossovers

It Lives Anthology/Immortal Desires

Répondez, S'il Vous Plaît ! 2 - Cassius Harlow x NB!MC (Saini Rusanen); NB!OC (Skylar Barnett-Lyons); Dan Pierce x ILITW F!MC (Riikka Yläkorpi); M!OC (Ash Clark); Connor Green x ILITW F!MC (Siiri Karvola); Parker Shaw x ILB F!MC (Pilvi Vance); Lincoln McQuoid Aquino x ILW NB!MC (Kanerva Leinola); Abel Flint x ILW F!MC (Hilkka "Puna" Noronen) - @aallotarenunelma ✏️

#choices pride 2023 #masterlist #open heart #the royal romance #laws of attraction #immortal desires #it lives anthology #jerzwriter #angelasscribbles #harleybeaumont #rosefuckinggenius #peonyblossom #aallotarenunelma #weetlebeetle

[tessa-liam]

Marabelle Series

Choices – The Royal Romance, AU 

Series Premise – An American teenager from New York City is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobility, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret? 

Marabelle Series Masterlist 

Main Pairing – Prince Liam Rys x F!OC Lady Sophia (Sophie) Taylor 

Other Pairings – Maxwell Beaumont x M!OC Daniel (from NYC), Drake Walker x F!OC Melanie Smithson 

Most characters belong to Pixelberry Studios 

Series Rating – M*🔞Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, crude language & innuendo. 

Not Beta’d - Please excuse all errors. 

Category – Alternate universe/on-going series/angst/fluff 

Words: 2389

The Awakening, Chapter 9 

Chapter Summary – The Duke of Ramsford, Barthelemy Beaumont returns to House Beaumont. Liam prepares for the polo match charity fundraiser in support of disaster relief in Portavira. Sophie attends classes at the University of Cordonia. King Constantine reveals his illness. 

Music Inspiration: The Crown Prince, Waylon Jennings 

A/N1: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the U.S. and is Barthelemy Beaumont’s second wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) is Bertrand’s mother. 

A/N2: ‘Social Season’ in this AU series refers to a traditional period in the spring/summer for royalty and members of the court to take part in Balls, dinner parties and charity events. 

A/N3: My submission for Choices Flashfics @choicesflashfics, Week #68, prompt 1 - “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” 

 Personal Care Home, Vallenheim 

Standing in the waiting room, staring out of the window at the parking lot outside of the personal care home, the gray-haired man appeared aloof and unapproachable to anyone passing by. That was, until he spotted his wife and eldest son step out of the town car. The corners of his mouth upturned as he saw his auburn-haired wife gracefully step onto the curb and walk toward the building. His son, Bertrand, followed behind her, his back straight, his expression stoic. 

As the two approached the door, the man straightened his posture and smoothed his salt and pepper hair. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the reunion he had been anxiously expecting after the years apart. 

The door swung open, and his wife entered, her dark eyes lighting up as they landed on him. "Barthelemy," she breathed, a smile spreading across her face. 

"Bethany," he replied, stepping toward her and taking her hands in his. "It is so good to see you." 

"And you," she said, squeezing his hands in return. 

Their moment was interrupted by their son, who cleared his throat. "Father," he said, inclining his head respectfully. 

"Bertrand," the man replied. "I trust you've been taking proper care of your mother." 

"Of course," Bertrand replied, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise." 

Bethany chuckled. "He's done a fine job, Barthelemy, along with Maxwell," she assured him. "I couldn't have asked for better sons." 

Barthelemy nodded, satisfied. "Good." 

He then turned his attention to the doctor, who had been watching the exchange silently. "Is everything in order, Doctor? I'd like to get home to Cordonia as soon as possible." 

"Yes, Your Grace," the doctor replied, handing him a thick folder. "Here are all the instructions and prescriptions you'll need. The nurse will be along shortly with the medication you need to take during your trip home. Just be sure to follow the dosage schedule carefully." 

"Of course," Barthelemy replied, a hint of irritation in his voice. He loathed being told what to do, even by medical professionals. Unbeknownst to Bethany and Bertrand, he was playing, along with the doctor and nurse, the role of a lifetime: The miraculously awakened coma patient. 

The doctor smiled apologetically. "Forgive me, Your Grace. I just want to make sure you have all the information you need."  

"I understand, Doctor. And I appreciate your thoroughness." 

The nurse entered the room with a wheelchair, which Barthelemy at once objected to. 

"Surely, that's not necessary," he protested. 

"It's just protocol, Your Grace," the nurse explained. "It's clinic policy.” 

"Very well," Barthelemy sighed, reluctantly settling into the chair. 

Bethany and Bertrand flanked him, each taking the handle of the wheelchair. 

"Are you ready, Father?" Bertrand asked. 

"As ready as I'll ever be," Barthelemy replied. 

The Cordonian Royal Polo Club 

"Hey, Liam, I thought I'd find you out here," Drake called out as he approached the stable, his boots crunching on the gravel. 

"Oh, hey Drake," Liam answered. "I didn't think you were coming until later." 

"Yeah, well, I finished my rounds early, and I thought I'd come by and see how you're doing. How was the New Year's Ball?"  

"It was excellent," Liam smiled, his mind flashing back to his romantic interlude with Lady Sophie. "We had a lot of fun." 

"I'll bet you did," Drake smirked, knowing that his 'smitten' best friend personally asked Sophie to attend.  

"It's not like that," Liam protested, though his ears turned slightly pink. 

"Mmm hmm.” 

"It's not ..." Liam started. 

"Whatever you say, Liam." Drake chuckled, shaking his head knowingly. 

"Anyway," Liam said, changing the subject, "I'm just getting started on the polo drills."

"Mind if I watch?" 

"Of course not." 

Drake sat on a bench while Liam mounted his horse. His crisp white polo shirt accentuated his tanned muscular physique with his riding breeches and boots. 

"All right, boy, let’s see what you can do," Liam calmly spoke, gently kicking the horse's flanks. 

The horse took off like a shot, galloping across the field at top speed. 

Liam leaned forward, urging the horse on. 

Drake watched, transfixed, as Liam and the horse moved as one, their bodies in perfect sync. 

"That was impressive! Excellent!" Drake called out, as Liam brought the horse to a halt in front of him. 

"Thanks," Liam replied, breathing heavily. "He's a dependable and efficient steed," giving the horse a pat on the neck. 

Liam dismounted and accepted a bottle of water and towel from an attendant. As Liam and Drake walked toward the clubhouse, the ranch hands steered the thoroughbred back to the barn. 

“That reminds me, Drake. Are you still available to join my polo team for the fund-raising event in Portavira next week?” 

 “Yes, Mel and I are looking forward to kicking noble ass." Drake grinned knowing that Neville was on the opposing team.

"I still need to find one more player since Rashad had to cancel."

“What about Sophie? Melanie tells me she played polo in New York.” 

“She mentioned she studied dressage back in the U.S. and was thrilled to learn that Marabelle was quite proficient. That skill could come in handy for the team.” Liam pondered aloud. 

“Sophie is a skilled rider, and she would be a terrific addition to the team, Li.” 

“I can't wait to see her ride again," Liam responded, smiling,

"Uh huh, I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun," Drake smirked. 

Liam sighed, shaking his head. "Not everything has to be a double entendre, Drake." 

"I know, but it's so much more fun that way," he cheekily responded.

University of Cordonia, Capital 

"I can't believe it's been a week since the New Year's Ball," Sophie exclaimed, taking a bite of her sandwich. "Time seems to be flying by." 

"I know," Maxwell replied, stirring his salad. "I feel like I need to plan the next Beaumont Bash already!" 

Sophie laughed. "Do you ever stop thinking about these events?" 

"Not when there's so much work to do to organize," Maxwell grinned. "But that's what makes me so good at it." 

"You certainly are, but Max, this is your last semester...don't start something you can't finish." 

“I don’t have to worry about my grades; I have already met the requirement to graduate with honors.” 

"I've been thinking," Maxwell said, a mischievous glint in his eye, "about a different theme for the next Beaumont Bash after my graduation." 

"And what theme were you thinking about having?" Sophie asked, knowing exactly what was coming. 

"I'm going to make it a costume ball!" 

"I knew it! That sounds like so much fun," Sophie grinned. 

"It will be, and you'll be celebrating your first-year anniversary as a Cordonian.” 

"Of course, I'll be there.” 

"So, how are things with Liam going?" Maxwell asked, his eyes twinkling. 

"Good," Sophie blushed. "We had a great time at the New Year's Ball." 

"Did you have a good time, or 'a good time'?" Maxwell waggled his eyebrows. 

"Maxwell!" 

"Okay, okay. I will not push."

"What did I miss?" Daniel asked, as he grabbed a chair to sit down. 

"Sophie was just telling me about her New Year's kiss with Liam," Maxwell winked. 

"Ooh, do tell." 

"There's nothing to tell," Sophie laughed, her cheeks burning. 

"Come on, Soph, give us all the deets," Daniel prodded. 

"Fine. We kissed. It was amazing." 

"I knew it!" Maxwell exclaimed. 

"So, when's the wedding?" Daniel joked. 

"Shut up," Sophie retorted, laughing. 

"Seriously, I'm happy for you. It's been a long time since I've seen you this happy, Squirrel." 

"Thanks, Daniel." 

"So, how are you doing with your Dad coming back tomorrow, Max?" Daniel inquired. 

"I'm okay. I mean, I am glad he is better. But I do not know if I am ready to face him yet.” 

"It's still so weird to me that you and Sophie are related." 

"Yeah, it's a small world," Maxwell chuckled. 

"No kidding. So, what is the deal with your Dad, anyway? What was he doing all that time?" 

"He was in a coma," Maxwell replied, his voice soft. 

"Oh, shit. I am so sorry, Max." 

"It's okay. It's just..." Maxwell paused, looking uncomfortably at his hands. 

"What?" 

"It's hard to know what to believe, you know? After everything he put us through." 

"I get that. But don't forget, he's still your Dad."

"He was a shit one, though," Maxwell pointed out. 

Sophie put her hand on Daniel’s arm, “Let’s change the conversation, Dan.” 

"It’s all right. I always knew that I would have to deal with it eventually. But right now, I just want to focus on graduating and figuring out my next steps." 

"That sounds like a good plan," Daniel agreed. 

"Yeah. It'll all work out in the end." 

"That's the spirit"  

Daniel slid his binder under his arm, "... see you guys later. Oh, and Max, just remember, you've got this." 

"Thanks, man." 

Maxwell watched his friend leave, feeling grateful for the support. 

"He's right, you know," Sophie began. 

"About what?" Maxwell looked at Sophie 

"You've got this. No matter what happens with your father, you will be okay. You're stronger than you realize." 

Maxwell sighed. "I know you are right. I am also grateful that Mom will be there as a buffer for you." 

Sophie wrapped her arm around him. 

"It will be fine. 

Now, let's get to class before we're late." 

Sophie and Maxwell walked together out of the dining hall to their next classes, feeling bolstered by each other's support. 

Cordonian Royal Palace 

King Constantine sat in his study, staring out the window.   

After hearing the devastating prognosis about his health from his personal physician, he directed his queen to track down and summon Leo as soon as possible. Regina, to her credit, tried to assuage her stepson’s concerns as to Constantine's urgency when she found him in the palace gymnasium.

However, Leo knew that his father would not have requested his presence so suddenly unless the news was dire. 

Constantine stood up as Leo and Regina walked into his office, his posture stiff, his face grim. 

Leo looked at his father and at once sensed the seriousness of the situation. 

"Father, you wanted to see me?" 

"Yes, son," Constantine said, his voice low. "I'm afraid I have received some rather unpleasant news." 

"What is it?" Leo asked, his concern piqued. 

"I've just come from a meeting with the royal doctors, and they've given me a prognosis." 

"Prognosis?" 

"Yes," Constantine said, his expression darkening. "They've determined that my health has deteriorated to the point where I can no longer carry out my duties as king." 

Leo's blood ran cold. He knew what was coming next.

"W-what are you saying?" 

"I'm saying that my time as king is over. And yours has begun." 

"What?" Leo swallowed loudly. 

"You're going to be crowned king, Leo. And you will ascend the throne immediately." 

"I have advised the Prime Minister to make the formal announcement tomorrow morning to the country." 

"I have begun preparations for your Royal wedding to Madeleine as well." Regina added. 

"What? No!" Leo shouted. 

"Calm yourself, Leo," Constantine admonished. 

"How can you ask me to calm down?" Leo demanded, his hands shaking. "You're asking me to give up my life, my freedom. My future." 

"As the Crown Prince, you know your duty to your country is paramount. It is what you have been preparing for since birth." 

"No. I won't do it." Shaking his head from this unexpected shock. 

"Don't be so dramatic, Leo," Regina said, her tone exasperated. "This is your birthright.” 

"It's not drama," Leo insisted. "I will not marry Madeleine. I don't love her. And she doesn't love me." 

"Love has nothing to do with it. You are betrothed to her noble house," Constantine stated. "This is about duty and honor." 

"And I won't be bound by either," Leo declared, his eyes blazing. "If I have to marry her, I'll abdicate. You can't make me be king." 

Constantine's jaw clenched, and he stared at Leo with a mixture of anger and disappointment. 

Leo turned and stormed out of the room, leaving his father and stepmother behind him, fuming. 

Constantine sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "He'll come around, Regina." 

‘It’s hard to be the crowned prince 

When it all hits home 

You can’t hide behind the wall 

Around the throne’ 

💕Thanks for reading

Perma-tags:

@ao719 @queenmiarys @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @alj4890 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @harleybeaumont @busywoman @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @imjusthereforliam @lovingchoices14 @kyra75 @tinkie1973 @emkay512 @malblk21 @kristinamae093 @charlotteg234

Submissions:

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesflashfics

#tessa liam writes #liam rys #liam #prince liam #sophie taylor #choices fic writers creations #choices flashfics #choices the royal romance #the royal romance #trr #trr fanfic #trr liam x oc #marabelle #choices fandom

[karahalloway]

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 20 - Steal Me Away

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: Drake is back... but that doesn't mean that it's a happy reunion...

Word Count: 4,300

Rating/Warnings: M (shouting, guilt-tripping, dangerous driving, swearing in multiple languages, one over-heated kiss)

Chapter theme song:

Chapter 20 - Steal Me Away

I whirl around in disbelief. "Drake...!"

He's stood before me with two days' worth of stubble, regarding me with a long-suffering look.

But it really is him.

And I feel my heart swell, even though I can tell that he's not exactly best pleased to find me in a random antique shop in the middle of Rome.

The muscle in his jaw twitches. "I turn my back for one goddamn minute and—"

"What are you doing here?" I blurt.

"I can ask the same of you, Gale..." he counters, folding his arms over his chest. "Because this sure as shit ain't no bridal boutique."

My chin lifts on its own accord. "I decided to make a detour."

"Jesus fucking—" He rakes his hand through his hair. "Did you leave your brain in a ditch somewhere in the process?"

My eyes widen. "Wha—! No! I—"

"The city is crawling with paps!" he almost shouts, jabbing a finger towards the door. "Who are looking for any excuse to make a meal out of you! Did you not think for one second that—?"

"What?" I counter heatedly, stepping up to him. "That I should cower and hide instead, like I'm to blame for it all? I told you — I refuse to let these people—"

"Well, it would've been a damn sight better than making me chase you across half the fucking city!"

"Why were you even chasing after me?" I demand, my own ire flaring. "You're supposed to be in Dubai!"

"Been there, done that, got the jet lag to prove it," he hits back sarcastically. "But just because I'm gone doesn't mean you suddenly have carte blanche to fuck off on your own."

"Says the person who walked off without so much as a 'see you later'..."

His mouth hardens. "I didn't want to—"

"Also, I'm not on my own," I continue testily. "Allard and Schweitzer—"

"—are fucking fired," he cuts in, suddenly darkened mocha eyes flashing. "They should never have—"

"Ch'è qualche problema?"

"No!" Drake and I snap in unison.

The old man falls mute before muttering something disparaging under his breath.

I continue staring at Drake, heart thumping and chest heaving in the wake of our dust-up.

He glares back unblinkingly, jaw clenched as the tension rolls off him in palatable waves.

I reach up to adjust the strap of my tote indignantly. "So much for trusting each other, huh, Walker?"

"Dammit, Gale," he growls. "That's not what—"

Grabbing the wrapped box off the counter, I stomp past him without a backwards glance. "See you back at the embassy."

He has some nerve, showing up out of the blue t—

I barely make it two steps before he's grabbed me by the arm.

I open my mouth to retort...

...but I'm not given a chance to get a word in edgeways, because in the next instant, he's slammed me against his chest, laying claim to my mouth with a ferocity that's on the verge of being savage.

The fight whooshes out of me as my arms fly up to wrap themselves 'round his neck, even as I feel his fingers dig against the soft cotton of my dress, pulling me to him like a long-lost ship to anchor.

"Christ, girl," he growls against my lips. "You send me off the edge of reason..."

"I'm... sorry..." I gasp, clinging to him helplessly as he trails down the line of my jaw. "I didn't mean to—"

"Ah... l'amore... non è bello se non è litigarello."

Drake starts as he gets clapped roundly on the back.

Peeking up, I see the shopkeeper smirking at us conspiratorially while ambling past.

"Err... Sì," coughs Drake, pulling back from me. "Sto certamente imparando che a mio spese..."

The man laughs in response. "Non capita a tutti?"

"You speak Italian?" I gawp, feeling a flush creep up my cheeks as the old man throws us a wink over his shoulder.

"Uh... Yeah..." Drake mutters, running his hand over the back of his head somewhat sheepishly. "With Bast."

"Oh." I glance between him and the old man. "What did he say?"

"An old proverb," Drake says, looking just as embarrassed as I am feeling about the fact that we'd inadvertently let our dirty laundry rip in the company of a complete stranger. "Love is not beautiful if it does not quarrel."

My cheeks redden further. "I-I see..."

"It's kind of a compliment..." he admits, shooting a sidelong glance over at the man, who's now busy dusting some shelves. "But we should probably get out of his hair."

"Definitely...!" I chirp, diving towards the saving grace of the exit.

"Err... La saluto," offers Drake on his way out. "E scusi il disturbo..."

"Eh!" comes the scoffed response. "Chi non risica non rosica. Ma è meglio stare attenti con lei! Donna buona – vale una corona."

"Lo so..."

"Everything alright?" I ask as Drake joins me on the baking pavement.

"Yeah," he assures me, not quite meeting my eye. "Just giving his two cents..."

Something flashes across his face, too fast for me to read.

But before I can ask him about it, he's already marching me across the square.

"What about Allard and Schweitzer?" I protest, trying to squint behind me as Drake navigates us 'round the incessant stream of sightseers. "Are they—?"

"I sent them back to the embassy," Drake replies, yanking me back as a pair of kids dart out in front of me.

"You didn't actually fire them, did you?" I gasp.

"Sure as hell thinking about it," he mutters, moving us forward again.

"If it's any consolation, they did try to talk me out of coming out here..."

"Clearly not hard enough."

"I can be very persuasive when I want to be," I remind him.

He lets out a low breath. "Don't I fuckin' know it..."

"Look," I say, coming to a stop and turning to face him. "I get you're pissed—"

"That's putting it mildly."

"—but don't take it out on Allard and Schweitzer," I tell him flatly. "They didn't do anything wrong... and I actually get along with them."

He holds my gaze for a long time before answering. "They're not your friends, Gale."

"Maybe not in any conventional sense," I admit. "But getting me a security detail had been your idea, Walker. And I know I was against it initially, but Allard and Schweitzer have been able to be there for me when you haven't."

His mouth hardens.

"And I know that grates you," I continue quickly, before he can cut me off again. "But we knew from the start that this was going to be the case, so if you do need to leave, then I'd prefer to be left with people I can trust. And I trust Allard and Schweitzer — with my life. Which is actually saying a lot."

He holds my gaze for what feels like a full minute before answering. "I'll think about it."

"That's it?" I demand in disbelief as he grabs my wrist to pull me after him again. "After all that, you're just going t—?"

"I said I'll think about it."

I glare at his back. "You're a dick."

He rounds on me like a wolf. "I'm a fuckin' realist. And the reality is that Allard and Schweitzer messed up. Big time. And I don't care how much you like them, or how many times you've braided each other's hair—"

My eyes narrow. "That's not—"

"—because none of that fucking matters out here! What matters — the only goddamn thing that matters — is keeping you safe. From the paps, from the aristos, even from your ownfucking self, if you're about to do something stupid. And at that, they've unquestionably failed. So, no. I'm not about to cut them a break. Especially not on your say-so. Because the stakes are too fucking real, and I'm not gonna let anyone play dice with your life. Least of all the people whose one job is to look out for you. Got it?"

I force myself to blink back the sudden tears in my eyes. "Yeah..."

"Good," he grunts. "Now get on."

Glancing past Drake, I spot what is very literally the last thing I'd expect to see him with.

I scoff up at him. "In your dreams, bud."

"Gale," he warns, reaching for one of the helmets that's hanging from the black and white moped's frame. "I'm not in the fucking m—"

"Well, neither am I," I hit back tersely. "So, you can take that deathtrap of a Vespa and shove it."

"First off," he counters, tossing the helmet at me. "It's a Piaggio. Second, the only reason I had to resort to this is because you decided to bail."

I catch the helmet irately. "So, you're saying that this is my fault?"

"Damn right, it is," he confirms, extracting a second helmet from the storage compartment nestled beneath the seat. "It's got all of 50cc so it's underpowered as fuck."

"Then why the heck did you get it!"

"Because it's the fastest way to get around the city."

I snort at him. "You mean, it's the fastest way to get into an accident..."

He prays for deliverance under his breath. "Gale, for the love of Christ, will you just—?"

"No," I declare, folding my arms. "The last time you conned me onto the back of your motorbike, I literally thought I was going to die. And after seeing how everyone in Rome drives, I have no interest in—"

"You drive, then."

Drake's unexpected offer pulls me up short. "Wait. What?"

He pulls a set of keys from his pocket. "It's a one-time offer, Gale. Either you take the wheel, or I do. But you've gettin' your ass on this sorry excuse of a bike, one way or another."

"I..." I swallow thickly. "I don't know how..."

"I'll walk you through it," he assures me. "There ain't much to it."

"Somehow I doubt that..."

"Clock's tickin', girl..."

I heave a breath before shoving my head into my helmet. "Okay, fine. I'll do it."

"Figured you would," he murmurs, holding the keys up. "You know where these go?"

"Up your ass," I retort, snatching the keychain from his hands.

The corner of his mouth twitches — whether in amusement or annoyance, I can't tell.

Not that I really care. I can be a jerk, too. But, I figure that at least with me driving, we won't rack up any speeding tickets or near misses on our way back to the Cordonian embassy, which is where we are staying for the two nights that we are in Rome for.

Walking up to the moped — admittedly with more swagger than I'm actually feeling at this moment — I grab the handlebars and swing my leg over the middle of the frame.

After a quick inspection, I locate the ignition switch and slot the key in.

But before I have a chance to try and turn the engine on, Drake's hand appears in my line of sight.

Reaching between my legs, he opens a hidden compartment in the frame. "For your bag."

"Oh," I say in genuine surprise, taking my bag off so I can tuck it away. "That is actually kind of neat."

"Last thing we need is for you to lose your stuff..." he drawls, shutting the glove box back up.

As he straightens again, his arm brushes the bare skin of my knee. And despite (or maybe because of) the unresolved tension shimmering between us in the wake of our heated reunion, I can't help but feel a familiar zap of electricity course through my nerves at the inadvertent contact.

"No kidding..." I concede, somewhat hoarsely. Clearing my throat, I add, "So... umm, what's next?"

"Grab the break and turn the key over as far as it'll go."

"So, kind of like a car," I surmise, following the instructions. "Why isn't it starting?"

"Because you only turned the electronics on," Drake advises. "To kick the engine off, you need to disengage the kick stand, and then press the start button."

"Jesus Christ, this is complicated..." I grumble as I scoot off the seat so I can try to figure out how to do what he just said.

"No more complicated than sailing a yacht," Drake counters, watching my antics from the safety of the pavement. "Just give it a shove ."

"How will that—?"

"It's got a rear-mounted kickstand," he says. "You disengage it by rolling the bike forward."

"Right," I grumble, feeling like a total idiot. "Because that's so obvious."

Maybe I should've let Drake drive, after all...

"You still holding the break?"

I snap my head up as I give the handlebars a hard push. "Huh?"

A squeal erupts from my mouth as the moped suddenly lurches forward beneath me, and I have a moment of sheer panic as I wrestle with the hunk of metal to keep from crashing to the ground.

"I told you to hold the break..."

"You could've been more specific!"

He lets out a low breath. "You good?"

"Yeah," I huff, finally managing to find some semblance of balance with an uncooperative moped  stuck between my legs.

"Turn her on, then."

I scan the buttons in front of me. "Err..."

"The one by your right thumb."

Shifting my grip, I extend my thumb out to press the button...

"You still holdin' the break?" Drake asks.

I quickly tighten my hold on the left-side break. "Yes."

Drake eyes me unconvincedly. "Just checking..."

I stick my tongue out at him.

"Hey," he objects. "You're the one who wanted to do this, Gale."

"Yeah, everything is my fault today..." I grumble as I press the start button.

The moped sparks to life beneath me, and I feel a massive rush of achievement.

"I did it!" I cry, meeting Drake's eye with an unadulterated grin.

He quirks a brow at me. "Y'know you're still stationary, right?"

"Shut up."

Drake steps up to the bike with a shake of his head and flips out the passenger foot rest. "Last chance to bow out gracefully, Gale."

I glance over my shoulder at him. "If you're trying to pull some kind of reverse psychology on me, Walker—"

"Wouldn't dream of it..." he assures me dryly, mounting up as well. "But my word is gospel, y'hear?"

"Aye-aye, Cap'n," I say sardonically... while trying to ignore the heat of his body and the instinctive urge to lean back into it as he settles down on the narrow seat behind me.

Because as much as I missed him, and as glad as I am that he's back, our volatile reunion has served as a stark reminder that we never finished our conversation back in Applewood. Not only that, but thanks to the almost break-neck speed at which things have been happening, the list of topics for discussion has only grown since then.

And the last thing I want is for us to fall down the same toxic hole that we did in the wake of Christian's surprise reveal in Valtoria.

I just have to hope that we'll be able to squeeze in some much-needed couple time before even more things pile up between us.

Not to mention, I'm desperate to know what had happened with Tariq in Dubai... and whether Drake's record-fast turnaround was a sign of some much-needed success, or even more demoralising failure.

But, first things first: getting back to the embassy in one piece, without the paps chasing us.

I feel Drake roll his eyes at me. "Wrong salutation, but never mind... Now. We're gonna do this slowly and gently. There's a lot of people around, and we don't need you on the front page of the Sun again because you accidentally torpedoed a toddler."

My throat constricts. "Y-You saw that?"

"You'd be hard pressed to find someone who hasn't," he mutters. "But right now, your focus needs to be on driving this thing. So, eyes up front and ignore everything else."

I swallow down my nerves. "Okay..."

"Your right hand controls the throttle. Your left hand controls the break," Drake instructs. "For the love of God, don't mix that up, or I'll be on the phone to your patents explaining why you suddenly need skin grafts."

I wince involuntarily at the gruesomeness of that particular image. "Got it."

"It's a mistake you'll only make once," he warns grimly. "To get going, twist down on the throttle while slowly easing up on the break. Don't jerk it, or you'll face plant into the speedometer."

"Anything else?" I ask, somewhat nervously.

As anticipated, driving a motorbike is a lot more nuanced than Drake made it look back in Cordonia. And I'm having some serious second thoughts about this whole thing...

"Keep your feet off the foot-stand until you've got enough momentum to stay upright."

"How will I know that?"

"You'll feel it," he assures me. "Like on a bike."

I bite my bottom lip.

"Hey," he says, brushing his fingers across my hip. "You got this, girl."

The familiarity of Drake's touch — even though it's fleeting — unwinds something in me. Because it's an unspoken reminder that no matter what may be going on around us... or between us, it's not going to come in the way of the promise that he made me.

I suck in a steadying breath. "Okay. Here goes."

Readjusting my grip on the handlebars, I twist my wrist down. Feeling the engine start to rumble with increased vigour, I gentle ease up on the break.

The Piaggio begins to creep forward.

"Watch the road, not the instruments," Drake cautions from behind me.

Lifting my eyes up, I carefully navigate us 'round the oncoming pedestrians, keeping my feet suspended alongside the moped, in case I need to make an emergency stop.

But, as we move away from the iconic landmark, the crowd starts to thin out, and the street widens. Passing a fruit and vegetable stand, I let go of the break fully, the bike pulls forward eagerly. Feeling slightly more confident, I add a bit more gas so I can finally lift my feet up without capsizing our delicate operation.

"Not bad," Drake approves. "You just gotta relax a bit."

I flush inadvertently. "I am relaxed."

"Your shoulders say different. You're driving like Quasimodo."

"Oh." I make a concerted effort to straighten my posture. "Better?"

"Yeah. But now you need to drop your elbows."

"So much for this being easy..."

"It is," he insists. "Once you get the hang of it."

"You and your technicalities, Walker..." I grumble.

"Everything's got a learning curve," he reminds me. "But we just might make a Hell's Angel out of you yet."

I snort back at him. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Evil Knievel. We haven't made it back to the embassy yet."

"Then you might wanna knuckle down for this next part."

"Why? What's—?"

I get my answer as we round a corner and come parallel to a busier-looking road.

Great...

"Right here, then first left," Drake advises as we approach a somewhat complicated-looking three-way intersection.

"Umm... Okay..." I mumble, eyeing up the noticeably faster-moving traffic on the main road with more than a bit of trepidation.

"No one's gonna give you room, so you'll have to gun it," comes the no-nonsense tip from behind me. "The indicator is by your left thumb."

A Fiat whizzes past, but the next car is some distance away. Taking a breath, I flick the indicator on and twist down on the throttle to merge into the gap.

"Move over one more," Drake shouts over my shoulder. "You're taking up the bus lane."

"Where the heck does it say that?" I demand, casting my head around in confusion.

"On the sign we just passed..."

"Was it invisible?"

"Hey," counters Drake. "You wanna argue with me, or a cop?"

"Neither," I concede sourly, making the switch to the left-side lane after a quick check in the mirror. "But they could've made it more obvious..."

Drake scoffs. "It's Rome. The bastards are trying to catch you out."

"Clearly," I agree, taking a left at the traffic lights...

...straight into a two-way fork in the road.

"Umm... What now?" I squeak, trying to hedge my bets as much as I can in the rapidly shrinking room that I have to make a decision before I run into the curb.

"Stay left."

I start to turn the bike, only to yank it back violently with a yelp as a car that I hadn't realised was trying to overtake me blows past with a scream of its horn.

"Vaffanculo!" yells Drake, throwing his hand out angrily at the other driver.

"Ohmygod..." I rasp, my entire body shaking in the wake of the near miss.

"Fuckin' asshole," gripes Drake. "You okay?"

I swallow thickly past the lump in my throat. "I... think so."

"If you need to pull over..."

I shake my head. "No. I'm fine. I just..."

"...get a kick outta playing chicken?"

"I don't do it on purpose!"

"You sure?" he asks dryly. "'Cause you definitely seem to be making a habit of it..."

I open my mouth, but quickly think better of it... as Drake has a point. I have had a few too many near misses lately. "Sorry... It isn't intentional. I thought that since I'd left the indicator on, that—"

"I know," he assures me, laying a hand on my hip again. "I'm not blaming you. But all the calls you've had had been too close. And..." His fingers tighten against the material of my dress. "I just don't want you to—"

"I know," I concede softly. "I don't want that either. And I'm not normally this accident-prone, I promise..."

"Except when your blood sugar's low," he corrects wryly.

His words cause me to clench my eyes together in consternation. "Damn it, the croissants..."

In the whirlwind of Drake's surprise reappearance, I'd forgotten all about the primary reason for sneaking away from the bridal boutique.

"What croissants?" queries Drake.

"The pistachio ones I was supposed to get from this little bakery next to the fountain that the Italian President had recommended."

I feel Drake's disbelieving gaze knife into the back of my head. "Seriously? That's the reason you were out playing hooky?"

"One of them, yes..." I reply evasively.

"Putain de merde..."

"Apparently they're very good..."

Drake mutters something under his breath. "Pull over."

My eyes widen. "What? Why?"

"Because it's past noon, and you're clearly starving."

"I'm fine," I insist, even though the only thing of substance I've had since this morning was the cup of coffee on Olivia's jet. "I'll just grab something when—"

The Piaggio lurches to a stop as Drake slaps a hand on the break. "No. You won't."

My eyes widen as my feet fly out on instinct to steady the suddenly stationary moped. "Why not?"

"Because the staff at the embassy already have their work cut out pulling together tonight's dinner, so the kitchen is off-limits," he explains, hopping off the back. "And you won't be able to take two steps outside to grab a sandwich without picking up a pap tail."

"Then why have we stopped in a dead-end alley?" I ask in disbelief as Drake pulls the moped it onto its kickstand while I'm still sat gaping at him from the seat.

"Because we just passed one of the best restaurants in Rome," he states. "So, I'm buying you lunch."

His cinnamon-laced eyes meet mine, and I see a sudden flash of rawness in his gaze... a silent plea entreating me to say yes. Which means this is about more than just food.

"Okay," I accede, wondering what could've prompted such a sudden change of heart. "But what about the paps? Aren't you worried we'll get spotted?"

"See any people?" asks Drake, reaching across my lap to turn the ignition off.

"No, but—"

"Exactly," he affirms, pocketing the keys. "This is one of the few places in the city where you ain't gonna bump into a reporter."

"How do you know?"

"Because apart from the fact that Sugo actually makes its own pasta, it is also a stone's throw from Parliament," he explains, offering me a hand to help me off the bike. "Which means that pencil pushers from every level of government come here to ink deals over carbonara, so no one — staff included — is gonna mess with the status quo."

"Sounds like something out of a mafia movie..."

"Where d'you think Hollywood gets its ideas from?" he drawls, pulling his helmet off to stow it in the under-seat compartment. "Places like this. Which is why no one will bother us here. Especially not the paps. It'd be a death sentence for this joint if their tight and discreet ship suddenly sprung a leak."

"Good to know," I acknowledge, unclipping the clasp of my own helmet. "But how did you even find out about this place? Let alone got in?"

"Leo," Drake replies, taking my helmet to clip it onto the handlebar. "He's on a first name basis with the chef."

I quirk a brow at him. "Sounds like there's a story there..."

Drake extricates my bag from the glove box with scoffs. "It's Leo. There's never not a story. But let's get you inside first. Before you pass out on the pavement."

"I'm not going to—" My stomach rumbles in pointed disagreement. "Okay, I am hungry. But where exactly is this place? There's nothing here apart from the back-ends of buildings..."

"Have I ever let you down when it comes to food?" he asks with a raised brow.

"No..."

"Then trust me."

The story continues in Chapter 21 - Coming Soon!

A/N: Translations for the Italian below:

Ch'è qualche problema? - Is there a problem?

Ah... l'amore... non è bello se non è litigarello. - Ah, love... It is not beautiful if it does not quarrel.

Err... Sì. Sto certamente imparando che a mio spese... - Err... Yes. I am definitely learning that the hard way.

Non capita a tutti? - Don't we all?

Err... La saluto. E scusi il disturbo... - Err... Farewell. And apologies for disturbing you.

Eh! Chi non risica non rosica. Ma è meglio stare attenti con lei! Donna buona – vale una corona. - Eh! No risk, no reward! But you better take care of her! Good woman – worth a crown.

Lo so... - I know...

Vaffanculo! - Fuck you!

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

@thetruthisthatiloveyou @anakjaybon-blog

#harper gale #drake walker #less than noble intentions #the royal romance #drake x mc #trr fanfic #Spotify

[trrvisuals]

The Rest of the Stories

Credit for below edit: @peonierose

I guess this is a catch all post. This would include other pairings (I have three series that don't include Riley as one of the MC's), Drabbles, One-Shots, Collaborations and a few miscellaneous items.

In Your Room: Drake x Leo

The Crown and the Shield: Constantine and Jackson

Leo and Liv: Leo x Olivia

Summer Vacation One-Shot Drake x Jen (F!OC) board by @harleybeaumont.

Broken: Eleanor x Jackson

I have three open ended series that consists of short drabbles: Cordonian Karaoke, Cordoian Chaos and Drabble Me This:

And obviously the never ending one-shots:

One Step Ahead:

This was a round-robin done with several other writers. Including this one here. Other collaborative works will have their own post just because there are a lot of visuals that go with them and Tumblr limits how many images I can have in one post. Since this one just has one board, I'm putting it here. This was my very first Tumblr round-robin!

Board by @twinkleallnight

This board from @choicesholidays spring holiday prompt event:

And this one from @drake-walker-appreciation World Whiskey Day event:

This one isn't even TRR, shhhh! It's the only other choices fandom I write for. Ride or Die:

and these wonderful gifs from @secretaryunpaid back when I hit 300 followers:

#trr visuals #angelasscribbles #the royal romance #trr #trr au #Dreo #leo x liv #leo x olivia

[alj4890]

Suggestions/Requests Welcome!

To get out of the writer's block I have for my WIP's in my drafts folder, I decided to challenge myself to write thirty drabbles in thirty days with various Choices pairings/storylines and the below list of kiss prompts I came across on my dashboard that @missameliep shared. I could use some help with which pairs I should put with certain prompts, so please feel free to suggest who you would like to see in the comments. The ones with a checkmark have been written with pairs already requested while others have pairs I first thought of when I read the prompts. Also please feel free to challenge yourself with these! I'm having so much fun with it (so far🤣)

Thirty Kisses in Thirty Days Kiss Challenge prompts

1. sharing a kiss while sitting by a campfire. LOA (Quinn Michaels x Aislinn Tanaka) ✅

2. a kiss given between ocean waves. (Prince Ellis x Emily Beaumont) TRR*While We're Young AU ✅

3. kissing your lover because you believe you're going to die. The Unexpected Heiress (Hugh Crawford x MC) ✅

4. kissing the tears that roll down your lover's cheeks. (Ethan x Sophie) OH ✅

5. a kiss while being held bridal style. (Tobias Carrick x F!MC) Open Heart ✅

6. a playful kiss given between laughter. (Maxwell Beaumont x Amanda) TRR ✅

7. finally kissing the friend you've been yearning for. (Thomas Hunt x Amanda) RCD

8. kissing your enemy while holding them at knife point. (Drake Walker x Olivia Nevrakis) ✅

9. a kiss in the aftermath of a fight. (Tobias Carrick x F!MC) OH ✅

10. forbidden lovers sharing a kiss in the shadows. Desire and Decorum (Ernest Sinclair x MC) ✅

11. kissing down your lover's body.

12. kissing at a crowded party. (Liam x MC) ✅

13. a kiss shared against a tree. (Thomas Hunt x OC) *Regency AU* ✅

14. a kiss to end sexual tension. (Bertrand Beaumont x MC) TRR ✅

15. kissing to pretend that you are in a relationship together. (Emerick Rhys x Juliet Nevrakis-Walker) TRR *While We're Young AU* ✅

16. a kiss to prove you no longer have feelings for your lover. (Leo x Madeleine) Rules of Engagement ✅

17. a kiss that leads to undressing each other.

18. a kiss to say goodbye. (Maxwell x OC) ✅

19. kisses against a wound. It Lives Beneath (Tom x F!MC) ✅

20. a kiss to the forehead, meant to soothe. (Thomas Hunt x Amanda after Maxwell's death) RCD/TRR *While We're Young AU* ✅

21. an 'i love you but i can't be with you' kiss. (Jax x MC) BloodBound ✅

22. passionate kisses that end in ripped clothing. (Tobias Carrick x Chris Valentine) OH ✅

23. your lover going to walk away, but you grab them and pull them back in for a kiss before they go. (Jackson Nevrakis-Walker x Nicky Beaumont) TRR *While We're Young AU* ✅

24. a kiss shared underneath fireworks. (Thomas Hunt x OC) Red Carpet Diaries ✅

25. A kiss to the neck from behind (Ethan Ramsey x OC) Open Heart ✅

26.an "I'm in love with someone else, but you're here," kiss (Liam x Madeleine) TRR ✅

27. An "I forgive you." Kiss (Liam and his daughter) *Family Fluff ✅

28. A kiss that leaves lipstick marks (Thomas Hunt x OC) RCD ✅

29. A kiss to make someone else jealous (Ethan Ramsey x OC) OH ✅

30. A kiss at a masquerade ball (Jackson Nevrakis-Walker x Nicky Beaumont) TRR/While We're Young AU ✅

#thirty kisses in thirty days #kiss prompt challenge

[alj4890masterlist]

30 various Choices drabbles all centered around kiss prompts. *Updated list of kiss prompts and pairings*

Evidence (Thomas Hunt x OC)

The Green-Eyed Monster (Ethan Ramsey x OC)

The Statement (Jackson Nevrakis-Walker x Nicky Beaumont)

Escaping for a Moment (Ernest Sinclaire x MC)

Silence (Drake Walker x Olivia Nevrakis)

The Sleeping Bag (Aislinn Tanaka x M!MC) *NSFW*

The Truth Comes Out (Hugh Crawford x MC)

The Apology (Ethan Ramsey x OC)

On Impulse (Maxwell Beaumont x OC)

Making It Believable (Prince Emerick Rhys x Juliet Nevrakis-Walker)

It's Over (Leo x Madeleine)

Over the Top (Tobias Carrick x F!MC)

In Times of Comfort (Thomas Hunt x OC)

To Make It Better (Tom Sato x F!MC)

Just Try (Liam x Madeleine)

Slipping Away Together (Thomas Hunt x OC)

So This is Goodbye? (Jax Matsuo x MC)

Visceral Reaction (Tobias Carrick x F!MC)

From the Heart (Ethan Ramsey x OC)

Anytime, Anywhere (Liam x MC)

Just You and Me (Prince Ellis Rhys x Emily Beaumont)

Snap (Bertrand Beaumont x MC)

Sparks of Hope (Thomas Hunt x OC)

The Promise (Liam and his daughter)

Right At Last (Jackson Nevrakis-Walker x Nicky Beaumont)

Just a Dream (Tobias Carrick x F!MC)

It's Time to Say Goodbye (Maxwell Beaumont x OC)

Second Thoughts (Raleigh Carrera x MC) *NSFW*

Washing Away Your Troubles (Trystan Thorne x F!MC) *NSFW*

Confession Time (Thomas Hunt x OC)

#thirty kisses in thirty days #choices the stories you play #choices fan fics