#drake walker x oc
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Wishful Thinking - Drake x OC (Isabella)
Tagging: @lorirwritesfanfic @lorircreates @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie @drakewalkerfantasy @secretaryunpaid @twinkleallnight @kingliam2019 @havenroyals @choicesprompts
Warning: When life gives you lemons…. 🍋 🍋 😏
Prompts: Sweet and Slow, We shouldn’t be doing this and I can make you forget him
“What are you doing here, came to gloat?” Isabella sucked in her cheeks, raising a delicate wine glass to her lips, the red nectar almost overflowing over the sides. There was no savouring the taste, nor allowing the bottle of Malbec she had already drank most of to aerate, wanting to taste the bitterness as she sat quietly alone in her Cordonian Townhouse’s kitchen on the cold marble counter. “Sánchez…” the figure standing in the door frame pushed himself up, moving closer toward her, “Nah, I’m not here to gloat… just checking in, haven’t seen you around campus for a few days y’know?” The Laurentian Princess’ chocolate brown eyes immediately looked upwards towards the man who stood in front of her, “I don’t need your pity Drake…” she spat angrily, “I knew what I was getting into…” causing the Texan to laugh as his attentions turned to her liquor cabinet. He poured two crystal tumblers of brandy before handing one to the petite brunette. “You wanna drink the pain away… drink this… wine just gives you a shit hangover…” Isabella raised her glass towards him, tilting it ever so slightly to clink both glasses together, “To being fucked over yet again…” she forcefully smiled before downing her drink, wincing as the liquid burned her already delicate throat from all the crying and screaming she had done hours beforehand.
With a slight cough she sat down her glass, staring up towards Drake knowing he pitied her. The expression on his face didn’t give it away but she could tell from how his onyx eyes filled with a sadness that she herself felt. “You don’t have to come check on me Drake…” Isabella gently spoke, “I’ll do as I normally do, pick myself up and get on with my life…” Drake took a step closer to her, his broad, muscular frame barely inches from her as he placed both hands either side of the Crown Princess’ body. His dark eyes locked onto hers as he stared directly into her soul, “You fucking deserve better and you know that!” Drake hissed, his whole body tensing. The smell of the sweet, smoky brandy from his breath mixing with the deliciousness of his cologne was intoxicating even more so than the wine. The Laurentian beauty felt her heart race in anticipation. Leaning forward, her lips crashed upon Drake’s and for that moment, she let herself melt into him. Her kiss was hungry, almost pleading him not to reject her. Drake placed her hands carefully against her delicate jaw, cupping her face gently as he purposely slowed down the kiss, savouring every moment as his tongue massaged hers, revelling in the taste that he had been craving for so long.
Separating for a breath, Drake stepped back as he bashfully ran his fingers through his hair awkwardly, “We shouldn’t be doing this… shit…” Isabella reached out, grabbing his shirt to bring him back closer to her, “No… it’s ok… I want to…” her perfectly manicured fingers trailed against his chest, Ruby red lips pouting, “Please Drake?” The Texan’s calloused rough thumb danced against the Crown’s Princess’ bottom lip as he whispered, “I can make you forget him if that’s what you want… but you and I both know it’ll only be in that moment…” Drake patiently waited for the reassurance from the petite brunette that she wanted this too, there was no pressure. “Tell me it’s ok Sánchez… I ain’t going to do anything unless you tell me it’s alright…” Isabella took a deep breath in, was she sure this was what she wanted? Drake was someone she trusted, someone she loved dearly. “I’m sure…” she whispered against his lips, kissing them once more. This time, Drake’s hands did not rest on the counter, but around her waist, pulling the petite brunette closer to him. His hands slowly moved upwards until they were entangled in her long cascading curls. Each movement was perfectly orchestrated, sweet and oh so slow. Drake would take his time, allowing his teeth to ever so slowly drag against Isabella’s bottom lip, nipping her playfully as she blushed.
Effortlessly, the Texan picked Isabella up from the counter, her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands cradling her backside as he carried her to her room. It was a strange feeling for Drake being in her room for such an intimate moment, but he had no urgency to go any faster as he carefully placing the petite brunette onto the duvet. Isabella’s chocolate brown eyes looked up at the King’s Guard lustfully in awe of him. For someone perceived so rough around the edges, Drake Walker certainly understood the delicacy of the female body. His hands softly caressed her frame as he peppered kisses along her neck and exposed décolletage, all accepted as a gentle moan escaped the Laurentian beauty’s mouth. Drake looked up towards her as his hands began to pull her dress above her thighs, “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop ok?” he gruffly spoke to reassure her once more as he pulled the material from her body carefully being conscious that one piece of clothing probably cost more than his salary before removing his own shirt. Isabella’s eyes widened in delight as she took in the view of Drake’s sculpted body that he always kept hidden under those denim shirts he always wore, his jeans hanging low on his hips emphasising his six pack.
His fingers carefully unclasped her bra, exposing Isabella’s ample bust causing her to blush slightly as she bashfully tucked the loose tendrils of hair that framed her face behind her ears. “Fuck you’re beautiful…” Drake muttered under his breath before leaning over her to kiss Isabella once more. The Crown Princess could feel her body yearning for him as his hardening length pressed against her, straining in his jeans. “Drake…” Isabella moaned into his mouth seductively, “Please touch me…” with a coy grin, Drake began to kiss down her torso, his hands following the shape of her hourglass figure until he reached her black lace thong. Hooking his fingers around the material, he took a deep breath as they cascaded down her thighs and legs to expose the Laurentian beauty fully to him. Drake didn’t need alcohol to feel drunk as his tongue cautiously began to taste the Crown Princess, savouring in her sweetness before he allowed his lips to tease her already sensitive nub. “Drake…” Isabella called out again in pleasure, her hands getting lost in the Texan’s shaggy dark dark as he explored her body further. Pressing one of his fingers against her entrance he groaned at how tight she was as he slowly entered her core, allowing her to relax before entering another finger. The petite brunette felt her thighs and legs pressing against Drake’s shoulders keeping him in the same exact spot, “Yes…” she softly moaned, “Right there…” her eyes rolling back as he continued to please the Crown Princess.
Feeling the walls of her warm core begin to tighten around his fingers, Drake kept his pace, coaxing the Laurentian beauty to spill over as her body tensed. As they caught each others gaze for a brief moment, the petite brunette rolled her eyes back once more as she came; Drake lavishing in his spoils as his tongue entered her heat causing Isabella to shudder at how sensitive she felt. “Drake…” she tried to catch her breath, “That was…” bringing a smirk to form across his face after licking his lips, “Only the start Sánchez…” He unbuckled his belt with one hand, popping open the buttons on his jeans to finally release his strained length. Isabella couldn’t help but stare as she took in the sight of him. His dark rugged looks, was a complete opposite to what she normally found herself attracted to but her eyes followed his chest hair towards his happy trail and then lower again. There was no denying that Drake Walker was genetically blessed. “You done staring?” He snorted playfully as he crawled up the bed, illiciting a giggle from the petite brunette as he stared into her chocolate brown eyes, each muscular arm on the other side of her body as he began to kiss her softly once more as she lay nestled underneath him.
Pressing his body against hers, Drake enjoyed the softness of her petite frame and the smell of her jasmine perfume as he breathed deeply, taking in her scent as he hovered above her. Feeling a slickness between her legs rubbing against his length, Drake groaned in satisfaction whilst the Crown Princess began to wrap her legs around his waist. “Do you need an invitation?” Isabella teased, but her taunting didn’t last for long. Pressing the tip of his member against her entrance, Drake smirked as he slowly made her feel every inch of him nestling inside her, stretching her to accommodate his size with every stroke. “God…” Isabella called out, reaching and grabbing onto the sheets around her much to Drake’s satisfaction, “What were you saying Sánchez?” he chuckled as their hips finally met, “It’s worth the wait I promise…” the petite brunette hissed as Drake began to thrust back and forth with a steady pace. She was much tighter than the Texan had imagined as his lips and fingertips found her already puckered nipples. The Laurentian beauty’s moans as the King’s Guard caressed her breasts made Drake want to claim her as his own.
Straightening himself up, both of his calloused strong hands gripped onto the petite brunette’s thighs as her feet brushed passed his ears. This time, Drake didn’t hold back as he began to thrust once more. The pace was quickened as Isabella’s breath hitched, feeling herself wanting to let go all over again. “I’m going to cum…” Drake groaned through gritted teeth, continuing to slide in and out of the Crown Princess’ warm, slick core, his hips slapping against her ass. “Yes…” Isabella purred, “Cum for me Drake…” before her chocolate brown eyes rolled back in ecstasy with a satisfied moan. As her walls began to tighten around his cock, Drake no longer could contain himself and with a groan filled the Laurentian beauty with his seed. “Isabella…” her name fell quietly from his lips only for Drake to open his eyes and find himself in his room, his pre cum covered hand squeezing his hardened length tightly. Closing his eyes again once more, he thought of the petite brunette calling his name, coaxing him to cum for her over and over again before he exploded ribbons of hot semen onto his stomach; the only thing he wished for was that she was there to help him clean up - unfortunately Drake knew deep down, that was wishful thinking.
#choices#the royal romance#playchoices#choices fanfiction#drake walker#drake x mc#Smutember2023#Drake x OC#Drake x Isabella#drake x reader#🍋.txt
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The Other Nevrakis - Extras
I have been waiting to post this amazing artwork that @weetlebeetle created for me and now that I’ve posted the final chapter of The Other Nevrakis, I can finally show you all!
AHHHH! I love it so much! The details are amazing and the way they’re looking at each other is just.. AHH! 😍 @weetlebeetle was such a sweet person to work with and I highly recommend them. As soon as they open commissions again I will be reaching out with more ideas!
I don’t want to spoil it for you if you haven’t read the last chapter yet, but the details are below! Click here to read the chapter.
This is where Drake is reciting Lilith’s favorite part of her favorite book (Jane Eyre) right before he proposes.
“One more thing.” Drake reached into the picnic basket and pulled out a book, passing it to her. “I want you to read to me.”
Her mouth dropped open as she thumbed through the pages. “Jane Eyre.. you brought my favorite book too?” She smiled at him, “you really want me to read to you? Won’t you get bored?”
“Of course I won’t get bored. ” Drake handed Lilith her reading glasses from her purse and she lay her head in his lap getting settled in. Lilith opened to page one but Drake gently took the book from her. “But.. to make this more interesting, I’m going to open to a random page and I want you to read that part.”
Lilith chuckled, “ok then.”
He flipped through the pages trying to make it seem unplanned and placed the book back into her hands. She looked up at him from his lap and his heart swelled. Her bright copper locks cascaded across his legs, and her rosy lips held a smile that she only reserved for him. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that this was his person. She was everything. His whole world, his life.
Lilith adjusted her glasses and grinned, “You just happened to flip to my favorite part of my favorite book?”
Drake shrugged cheekily and Lilith began reading aloud. “I hied me to the window-recess. And while I sat there and looked out on the still trees and dim lawn, to a sweet air was sung in mellow tones the following strain:—The truest love that ever heart Felt at its kindled core, Did through each vein, in quickened start, The tide of being pour.”
Drake’s deep voice cut in and Lilith froze as she heard him recite the next lines, not even glancing at the book.
“Her coming was my hope each day, Her parting was my pain;
The chance that did her steps delay Was ice in every vein.”
Lilith sat up quickly and threw her hand over her mouth, but shock quickly melted away into wonder as she watched him continue reciting the words by heart.
#the other nevrakis#trr fanfic#the royal romance#drake walker#drake x OC#lilith nevrakis#weetlebeetle#trr artwork
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Marabelle
Chapter 3 - Falling
Book: Choices - The Royal Romance, an AU series
Series Premise: An American teenager from New York City is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobles, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret?
Catch Up: Marabelle Masterlist
Main Pairing: Liam Rys v F!OC (Sophia)
Other Pairing: Maxwell Beaumont x M!OC Daniel
All characters belong to Pixelberry, except Sophia Taylor, Bethany Beaumont, Melanie Smithson, Tyler Gregson.
Rating: M*🔞Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, crude language. Not Beta’d: Please excuse all errors.
Category: Alternate Universe/on-going series/angst/fluff
Words: 2149, Read 10 minutes
- 3 – Falling
Chapter summary: Marabelle is settled in her new home at the Beaumont stables. Sophie starts to prepare for the start of the social season that begins with the Beaumont Bash.
Music Inspiration: The Climb - Lucy Thomas (Sophie’s FC)
Falling - LeBlanc And Carr
A/N1: This is my submission for Choices March Challenge @choicesmonthlychallenge @lovealexhunt Prompts, Sunrise, Talking to Animals & art commission/moodboard #choicesmarchchallenge
A/N2: This is my submission for @choicesflashfics Week #25, Prompt #3 - "I haven't laughed like this in a long time."
A/N3: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the US; is Barthelemy Beaumont’s 2nd wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) was Bertrand’s mother.
A/N4: Melanie Smithson is a love interest for Drake. Tyler Ericsson is Prince Liam’s personal assistant.
A/N5: 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.
🐎🐎🐎
Beaumont Estate
“Good morning, Auntie Bethany.” Sophie sing-songed as she entered the huge country kitchen of the Beaumont estate.
“Morning, sweetheart, you are up early this morning.”
Sophie nodded, kissing her aunt’s cheek. “Breakfast smells so good! What are we having today?”
Maxwell smiled, already seated at the table, “my favorite...blueberry pancakes with maple syrup and bacon.”
"mmmm...sounds good!" After pouring herself a cup of coffee, Sophie took a seat at the table across from her cousin as the waitstaff began to set down breakfast plates of food.
“So, Sophie, tell me what happened yesterday? Maxwell mentioned that you found a horse.”
“Yes, I did!” Sophie was beaming. “Oh Auntie, she is beautiful! Her name is Marabelle, and she is a retired Derby winner. She is black with white socks and has a star on her forehead.”
“That’s so exciting, my dear! Maxwell tells me that she will be arriving this morning with the other horses that Bertrand bought yesterday.”
“Drake and Melanie should be arriving very soon. I think I will get changed now to get ready to go help.” Maxwell finished his coffee and stood up.
“Are you coming out to see the horses, Mom? "
“Oh, definitely, but I’ll let the horses be settled first, though. I don’t want to get in the way.”
“Sophie, I will see you outside.” Maxwell grabbed one more piece of bacon and winked at his cousin. “I know Sophie won’t wait!”
Sophie giggled at his comment. “Try and stop me, Max.”
Bethany paused and looked at her niece, noticing the look of happiness and sparkle in her eyes.
Unbeknownst to Sophie, Maxwell had already mentioned to his mother that it was Prince Liam who had arranged for Sophie to ride Marabelle for the first time.
“What’s that look for?” Sophie asked her aunt, noticing her grin.
“I am delighted that the boys found the horse for you so quickly. And, I hear that a certain ‘gentleman’ also had a hand in the find?”
Sophie blushed furiously, “Yes, well, actually...”
She hesitated, then blurted out, “It was Prince Liam.”
Bethany looked pleased and patted her niece’s hand, “Well, that’s certainly a nice surprise. Prince Liam must think very highly of your riding skills to suggest a prize winning champion for you.”
"I was thinking of thanking him with a small gift. I could present it to him the night of the Bash."
"That's a lovely idea, my dear."
"Auntie Bethany, for the Beaumont Bash this weekend, I am not sure what I should wear. Talking to Bertrand, he says to wear a formal ballgown. When I asked Max, he said to wear a party dress.
What do you suggest?"
"First of all, you will look lovely in anything you choose. Second, if I had to choose between the two dresses, I would choose the party dress. It looks more modern than the traditional ball gown."
"Max invited the princes, shouldn't I dress more formal?"
Bethany chuckled, "No dear, I am pretty certain that the princes would prefer a more casual evening. I tell you what. Tomorrow, I am taking you up to the Capital to find your dress. We can pick up a gift for Liam as well."
‘...I may not know it
But these are the moments, that
I’m gonna remember most, yeah
Just gotta keep going...’
🐎🐎🐎
It was an hour past sunrise, as Drake maneuvered the long horse trailer into the driveway and then through the side gate of the Beaumont Estate grounds. Stopping alongside the horse stables, he texted Maxwell to come out and unlock the doors for the new arrivals.
Unhitching the trailer door, Melanie stepped up into the long horse trailer and entered the main compartment. Upon seeing Melanie, many of the horses started to whinny.
“It’s all right, this is your new home,” she spoke soothingly as she walked down the row of horses. Melanie loved talking to animals, especially the horses; she understood that they were social creatures and could display a wide range of emotions. They were definitely anxious, at the moment.
“Good morning, Mel,” Maxwell, wearing casual jeans, jacket and boots, called into the trailer as Drake followed in after him.
“Beaumont, there you are; I just messaged you.” Drake tapped his shoulder and began to also prepare the horses for their transfer to the stables.
“Morning, Max,” Melanie called back, the horses nickering softly.
“My two stable hands are ready for them.” Maxwell stated and started to help Drake.
“Perfect Max, thank you.”
The stable hands entered the trailer and began untying the horses from the railings. They led each horse inside the stable and settled them into their individual stalls.
🐎🐎🐎
The Tavern Beer Garden, Capital
Later into the evening, Bastien had positioned two royal guardsmen discreetly inside the beer garden, well before Leo and Liam were set to arrive.
Drake and Rashad, already sitting at a table, watched as a black SUV rolled to a stop at the entrance of the beer garden. As Leo and Liam stepped out of the vehicle, Bastien approached them, “Your Highnesses, please follow me.”
Leo didn’t waste any time in ordering a double scotch as soon as he sat down at the table. Liam greeted Rashad with a handshake, while Drake slid a cold beer over to Liam’s seat.
“Why so wound up, Rys?” Drake looked over and questioned Leo with a smirk.
Can you say M..M..Maddy?”
Leo scowled back, clearly annoyed at his comment, answered, “Don’t go there, Walker.”
The less time Leo had to think about Madeleine the better. Since she is betrothed to Leo, and rumors were circulating that King Constantine was planning to relinquish the throne sooner than expected, Madeleine had become unbearably obnoxious. She felt that she was more than ready to assume the role of Queen now and made a point of reminding anyone and everyone in the Kingdom that would listen to her.
Liam shook his head, knowing that his brother was agitated, and rightly so. His father’s announcement to his sons last week that he was gravely ill was a shock. News of his potential early abdication explosive. The tension of having to face an arranged marriage for Leo, palpable.
“So, Liam, will you be attending the Beaumont Bash this weekend?” Rashad asked, trying to change the direction of where this conversation was going.
Leo glanced at his friend, silently thanking him for correctly reading the room.
“Yes, let’s see what Bertrand and Max have planned for this year,” Liam confirmed.
Both Princes Leo and Liam were expected to attend, since King Constantine and Queen Regina were stepping back from some royal duties, letting the princes represent the monarchy.
“I am assuming that you will be attending this year? I know that your father has asked Regina for assistance in finding you a marriage match.” Liam questioned grinning.
Sighing, Rashad nodded yes. His parents were adament that he take a partner this season. “I hear that there are several new faces joining the social season this year. Anyone interesting?”
Smiling knowingly, Drake joined the conversation, “one of the young ladies caught Liam’s attention yesterday. Isn’t that right Li?”
Liam’s smile was huge, as he remembered his day with Sophie on the trail at the polo club and horse ranch, when she asked...
'I bet you’re used to putting everyone else first.'
'And why would you say that?'
From the short time that they had talked earlier, she already had an accurate insight of him. She asked about his thoughts and feelings, showing a genuine interest. They were having a heartfelt and sincere conversation. She had just met him!
Gathering his thoughts into words, he began...
“I have never in my life met anyone like her. We connected on so many different levels. She is incredibly sweet, interesting funny, and had a great sense of humor. I could talk to her for hours. ‘I haven’t laughed like this in a long time.’”
Rashad chuckled, “well, that answered my question.”
Liam nodded, looking delighted, continued. “Sophie was more concerned about why the horse she was riding was startled that morning at the ranch, than about herself; she was fearless.
...and when she found out about me being a prince, it didn’t change anything for her.
‘No one’s ever seen me as just...me. No one’s ever listened to me the way she did.’
She brings a new, fresh and exciting perspective to everything.
…and her eyes, I could stare into those beautiful blue eyes forever! She is absolutely gorgeous, inside and out.”
As Leo listened and watched his brother speak, he remained silent. He mentally erased his current thoughts and ordered another drink.
🐎🐎🐎
Beaumont Stables
Drake and Melanie had already left to drive the trailer back to the horse ranch.
Maxwell was speaking to the stable hands when Sophie entered the stable to see Marabelle.
"Hi guys, good morning," Sophie greeted.
"There she is, ready to ride Marabelle?" Maxwell smiled.
"Yes, yes," Sophie exclaimed, excitedly.
The stablehands led Sophie into the stall where Marabelle was standing.
"Hey girl! Come here," Sophie cooed as she stroked Marabelle's neck.
Marabelle nickered happily in return, nuzzling her cheek.
"Come on then, let's get you saddled up. We're riding today."
🐎🐎🐎
Sophie rode Marabelle down to the winding stream, that was adjacent to the vineyard of the estate.
Memories flooded back of her time with Liam.
'We walked together hoping forever, please don't let go of my hand,
cause I'm falling, woah, I'm falling in love with you'
⚜️using my tag list, please let me know if you would like to be added or removed
#choicesmarchchallenge#choicesflashfics#choices fic writers creations#liam rys#the royal romance#trr#trr fanfic#drake walker#leo rys#trr liam x oc#prince liam
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I Know Places (Happy Birthday Burns!)
Book: The Royal Romance
Pairing: Liam x Riley, Drake x Alyssa
All characters belong to Pixelberry, except for Alyssa Devereaux, who belongs to the birthday girl @burnsoslow
Summary: In a prequel to last year's birthday fic, Riley notices some odd behavior from Drake and is determined to find out what he is hiding.
Song: I Know Places - Taylor Swift
You are the only person on the planet who could get me to drop a Taylor Swift song anywhere. That's how much I love you.
Rating: PG (a couple of swear words)
Word Count: 2,703
A/N: Happy birthday to my wonderful friend @burnsoslow. You are so sweet, and funny, and thoughtful. When I came to Tumblr however long ago, and started obsessively reading your stories, I never, in a million years, thought that I would actually be lucky enough to call you my friend. I'm sitting here trying to put together words about how much having you in my life means to me, but I'm not sure they even exist. I just love you so so much, and hope that you spent today partying like it's 1999! 😘
A/N 2: No pre-reader, so you get what you get. If it sucks, and the grammar is terrible, that's all on me. Godspeed.
Tags: This is my first run with the new tag list, so if you're not on here but would like to be added, just let me know!
Liam and Riley sat on the couch in his office, reviewing their opening remarks for the Five Kingdoms Festival that would be happening the following day. A knock on the door pulled their attention away, Liam called for the visitor to come in.
“Well, well, well,” Riley said as Drake entered the room. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
Drake rolled his eyes and approached the pair. “Hello Brooks.” He walked over to Liam, who was now standing. “Hey, Li.”
“Drake,” Liam shook his friend’s hand. “It has been a while.”
“Yeah,” Drake rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been pretty busy lately.”
“Why don’t you stay for dinner?” Riley suggested, noticing that something was off with him. “Eleanor has been asking for you, she misses her Uncle Drake.”
Drake’s expression softened. He hadn’t been spending as much time with Eleanor as he usually would. She had just become a big sister, and he knew how hard it could be going from being an only child to having to share attention with a younger sibling.
“I really wish I could…” He trailed off, his eyes darting between his friends. “I promised Savannah I’d go up to Ramsford tonight. But I’ll be at the festival tomorrow. I’ll take Eleanor for some cotton candy or something.”
“Sure, she’d love that.” Riley agreed.
Drake said his goodbyes and exited the office. Once he was gone, Liam and Riley settled themselves back on the couch, Liam lifted his wife’s legs to rest across his lap.
“That was weird, right?” Riley asked.
“Not really,” Liam shrugged as he slipped off her shoes and began rubbing her feet. “Drake and his sister are close, of course he would want to have dinner with her.”
Riley sighed at her husband’s response. “You know, for someone who was trained to read people, you can be awfully thick sometimes.”
Liam’s movements stopped as his head snapped in her direction. “Excuse me?”
“Come on Liam, he was being so dodgy! He couldn’t give us a straight answer about where he’s been.”
“To be fair,” Liam began. “We never asked him for one. Besides, Drake has always been a pretty private person, if he wanted us to know, he would have told us.”
She returned her feet to the ground, retrieving her shoes and putting them on. “Ugh! You’re so bad at being nosy!” She groaned. “Let’s go, I miss our babies.”
Regina had offered to watch Eleanor, and the newest edition to the royal family, Prince David, while Liam and Riley worked on the final preparations for the festival. They left Liam’s office and met up with Regina to pick up the kids before returning to their quarters for the evening.
***
After dinner, and a few rounds of Candy Land, it was time for Eleanor to go to bed. In an effort to help her with the transition from only child to big sister, her parents decided to take turns putting her to bed each night ensuring she had some quality one-on-one time with each of them. It was Liam’s turn to tuck her in, so Eleanor said goodnight to her mother and brother and walked hand in hand with her father to her room.
Liam sat on Eleanor’s bed, his arm wrapped around her, holding a book in front of them. Eleanor was learning how to read, so as they made their way through the story, Liam would pause, pressing his finger against the words, encouraging his daughter to read along, and helping her as she went.
“... and they,” he pointed to the next word and nodded encouragingly at her.
“Lived happ… happy…”
“Almost, princess. Happil…”
“Happily!” She exclaimed, Liam chuckled at her excitement and kissed the side of her head. “Happily ever after!”
“That’s right! Good work, Eleanor!” Liam pulled her close, kissing the top of her head before closing the book and carrying it to the bookshelf. “Now, I believe we have one more item of business,” he made his way to the collection of stuffed animals that were gathered in the corner of her room. “Who would you like to keep you company tonight?”
Eleanor’s eyes traveled through the crowd, her index finger tapping against her lips as she contemplated her selection. Her movements halted, and her smile grew upon making her decision, “Hunny Bunny please.”
“Excellent choice.” Liam turned to the pile searching for the golden rabbit. He moved the other animals around, trying to locate it. “Hmm… she doesn’t seem to be here.”
“But where is she, Daddy?” Eleanor looked at her father with tired, sad eyes.
“I’m… well, I’m not sure, princess. Where do you last remember having her?” He made his way around the room, looking anywhere Hunny Bunny could possibly be hiding.
“I… I don’t know.” Eleanor replied through her sniffles. “Daddy, please find her.”
Liam looked up at his daughter, her eyes were beginning to water, and her chin was trembling. He knew between Eleanor being tired, and wanting her toy, a meltdown would be inevitable if they didn’t find this rabbit.
“Oh Eleanor, don’t cry.” He rushed to his daughter’s side. “Why don’t we ask Mommy if she has seen Hunny Bunny?” Eleanor rubbed her eyes as she nodded at her father. He kissed her on the forehead before going to the door. “Riley, love, could you come here for a moment?” He called down the hallway.
Riley entered the room to find Liam consoling a crying Eleanor. “What happened here?” She said as she approached the pair, placing a comforting hand on Eleanor’s back. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”
“We can’t find Hunny Bunny.” Eleanor cried before falling into her mother’s arms.
Riley looked up at Liam and she could see the worry in his face. “Okay, it’s all okay. Let’s just calm down here. She has to be somewhere, she didn’t get up and hop away.”
“When do you remember seeing her with it last?” Liam asked Riley as she continued to console her daughter.
She racked her brain, thinking back over the past couple of days, trying to picture everywhere they went, when it suddenly hit her. “Ramsford! She wanted to show Bartie, so she brought it when we were there for lunch the other day.” Riley put her hands on Eleanor’s shoulders and pulled her back gently. “Eleanor, I’m going to go call Uncle Max to see if Hunny is there, okay?”
Eleanor nodded as she rubbed her eyes. Riley stood from the bed and pulled her phone out of her back pocket as she stepped into the hallway.
“Hey Riley!” Maxwell greeted her on the second ring.
“Max, thank god! We have a bit of an emergency.”
“What’s wrong? Who’s coming for the throne now?”
Riley chuckled at his response, which helped ease her concern about the issue. After everything they had been through, if the worst thing to happen to them is a lost stuffed animal, then everything was going to be just fine. “It’s nothing like that. Eleanor can’t find her Hunny Bunny. I think we may have left it there.”
“Oh yeah, she’s here. I’ll bring it tomorrow when we come for the festival.”
“Actually, could you just give it to Drake? I’m sure he won’t mind dropping it off on his way home.” There was silence on the other end of the line. “Max? Are you still there?”
“I’m here, but Drake’s not.”
“But he said he was having dinner with Savannah tonight.”
“Nope, he hasn’t been by in a couple of weeks actually.”
“Man, I knew he was being shady!”
“Wait, what do you mean? What’s going on?”
“I’ll fill you in tomorrow. For now, please please bring Hunny Bunny with you tomorrow.”
“You bet, see you then!”
Riley hung up the phone and took a deep breath before returning to her daughter’s room. Without Eleanor’s stuffed animal of choice, it was going to be a long night.
***
The next day, the royal family walked through the crowd greeting people, and exploring everything the festival had to offer.
“I get what you’re saying,” Riley said to Liam. “But he’s not just not telling us stuff, he’s straight up lying to us. That’s not a Drake thing.”
Liam looked at his wife thoughtfully. “That’s true. As much as he’s kept to himself, I’ve never known him to lie to me.”
“So, we can confront him and ask him what’s going on?”
“Uncle Drake!” Eleanor’s excited shout pulled Liam and Riley’s attention. They looked ahead and saw Drake approaching them.
“Hey, kiddo.” Drake smiled as he lifted Eleanor into a hug.
As Eleanor and Drake greeted each other, Liam and Riley had a conversation with their eyes. Liam pleaded with Riley not to confront him, to which she agreed.
“So Eleanor, how would you like some cotton candy?” Drake asked.
The princess’s eyes went wide as she turned to her parents for permission. Liam and Riley chuckled at her hopeful expression. “Mommy, Daddy, please?” Eleanor begged. “I’ll bring some back for baby David.”
“That’s very sweet of you, princess,” Liam leaned in, kissing his daughter on the cheek. “But babies can’t eat cotton candy.”
“That’s right, baby girl,” Riley added. “So why don’t you just go ahead and eat extra for your brother?”
Eleanor cheered and jumped up and down in excitement. “Come on, Uncle Drake!” She grabbed his hand and rushed him toward the food vendors.
A while later, Riley was mercifully pulled away from a conversation with Hakim and Joelle Theron when David started crying from his stroller. She excused herself, and once she was out of their earshot, she thanked her son profusely for his timing.
“Riley! Riley, wait up!” Maxwell called as he rushed to catch up with his friend.
“Diaper emergency Max, no time.” She replied, just as he fell into step with her.
The pair stepped into the palace and into a small sitting area. As Riley set up a makeshift diaper station on a nearby table, Maxwell bounced on his heels behind her.
“Riley, you’re never going to guess what I saw?”
Riley recoiled back as she opened David’s soiled diaper. “Ugh, it can’t be any worse than this.”
“I think I know what’s going on with Drake.”
Riley turned to face Maxwell. “Spill right now, Beaumont.”
***
The next day, as the Royal Council meeting let out, Liam caught Drake before he could slip out, and invited him back to his office for a drink. As soon as they walked in the office, Liam’s desk chair slowly turned, revealing Riley, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Welcome, Drake.” She said as she rested her elbows on the desk, steepling her fingers in front of her.
Liam pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. When he and Riley talked about confronting Drake, they agreed that they would speak to him rationally. His wife appeared to have other plans.
“What’s up with you, weirdo?” Drake asked at Riley’s dramatic display.
Liam invited Drake to sit before stepping to the bar cart and making two drinks. He handed one to Drake before stepping around the desk and standing beside his wife. “Drake, we wanted to talk to you. To make sure you were alright.”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He responded. “Why would you ask?”
“Because you’re a big fat liar!” Riley blurted out. Liam placed a hand on her shoulder at the outburst as Drake’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“Drake,” Liam interjected. “The other night, when you told us that you were going to Ramsford, Riley spoke with Maxwell, and he told her you hadn’t been there.”
“Hold on,” Drake stood from his chair. “You guys are checking up on me?”
“Not intentionally. We lost one of Eleanor’s toys, and I called Maxwell to find it.” Riley crossed her arms over her chest. “And don’t try to turn this around on us.”
“Love, stand down.” Liam leaned down, kissing her on the cheek before turning back to Drake. “Drake, we’re just worried about you. You know we don’t mind that you keep to yourself, but it’s not like you to lie.”
Drake let out a deep breath as he fell back into his chair, finishing off the rest of his drink. “I’m sorry you guys. I didn’t mean to worry you, I just needed some time to myself for a while.”
“Well that’s another lie.” Riley scoffed, Drake arched a brow at her. “You have a girlfriend!”
Drake’s eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped. “How did you…”
“Maxwell saw you canoodling at the festival yesterday.” She responded. “What’s wrong with her? Why don’t you want to show her off? Does she have an eyepatch? Pegleg? Hook hand?”
Liam and Drake both froze and stared at Riley curiously.
“What the fuck, Brooks?” Drake finally broke the silence.
“Love, I don’t think Drake is seeing a pirate.”
“Sorry, Eleanor’s been on a real Peter Pan kick. I’ve got pirates on the brain.” She shrugged.
“Riley, can you give Drake and I a moment alone?” Liam asked.
Riley stood from the chair, and moved to leave the office, pausing before she opened the door and turning back to her husband and her friend. “I just want the chance to be there for you the way you always have for me.” Before Drake could respond, she was gone.
“I’m sorry, Drake.” Liam apologized as he sat in his chair. “I didn’t mean for this to be an attack on you.”
“It’s alright,” Drake shrugged. “And for the record, I’m sorry I lied to you guys.”
The pair sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Liam finished off his drink and stood, tilting his chin toward Drake’s glass. He nodded, affirming that he wanted a refill. Liam took the glasses and took them to the bar cart.
“So,” Liam began as he refilled their drinks, “What’s her name?”
“Alyssa, Alyssa Devereaux.” He said. Even with his back to his friend, Liam could hear the smile in his voice.
“You’re happy?” Liam asked as he handed Drake his drink.
“I am Li, she’s amazing. I never expected to fall as hard as I did.”
Liam nodded as he returned to his seat, placing his drink down in front of him. “Why wouldn’t you want to share that happiness with your friends?”
Drake shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, it’s just,” he trailed off, trying to find the best way to explain what he was feeling. “This whole world, the court, nobles, all that, it’s a lot. I know what it can do to an outsider, I wanted to protect her from it.”
“That’s reasonable, I understand wanting to protect someone you care about, you know that.” Drake nodded in response. “But Drake, if this is something that you see as long term, it’s an inevitability that you will need to start introducing her into this whole world. As much as I know it pains you to admit it, you are a part of the court.”
“Yeah, you’re right. There are just so many things that could go wrong. I don’t want to lose her, Liam.”
Liam smiled, he had known Drake his whole life, and he had never talked about a girl like this. He had it bad, and it was painfully obvious. “Why don’t you ease her into it. She doesn’t have to dive into it all at once.”
“What do you mean?” Drake asked.
“Introduce her to people that will be at court functions ahead of time. That way, she will have allies to turn to if she gets uneasy.”
Drake arched a brow. “Allies like the king and queen?”
“If you’re going to have allies, it doesn’t hurt for them to be at the top.” Liam grinned sheepishly.
Drake let out a deep breath. “I guess I can’t keep her hidden forever.”
“Wonderful!” Liam exclaimed. “You should bring her by for dinner this weekend. Just a small, unofficial get together. We’ll do it in our quarters, Riley will cook. Completely informal, just your friends meeting your… girlfriend?” Drake nodded, confirming Alyssa’s title.
“I guess that sounds alright. I mean, if it’s just you guys, I can’t imagine what could go wrong.”
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#choices#pixelberry#play choices#the royal romance#choices the royal romance#trr#choices trr#trr fanfic#trr fandom#trr fan fic#trr fan fiction#trr fanfiction#drake walker#trr drake#liam rys#trr liam#drake x oc#liam x mc#liam x riley#happy birthday burns
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The Royal Romance: Cinderfella’s Adventures in Cordonia - Chapter Sixteen
An AU of The Royal Romance with a male MC and a bisexual prince.
It all comes out...
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
“You said ‘don’t give him the same speech you gave me’,” I murmur.
The two friends freeze in place.
“Were you together?”
My words hang heavy in the air, the tension around the three of us so thick you can practically see it crackling in the air.
“Answer the question,” I demand. “Were the two of you in a relationship?”
Drake and Liam glance over at each other guiltily.
“Look at me, not each other!” I snap impatiently, running my hand through my hair in agitation. “And tell me the truth or I am walking away right now, and this time I will not look back.”
“We were… together, yes,” Liam admits haltingly.
I grit my teeth and pinch the bridge of my nose to ease the pain of a rapidly oncoming headache. “For how long?”
Drake mumbles something under his breath and I glare at him, knowing that he’s trying to avoid telling me. “Five years,” he repeats, loud enough for me to hear this time.
“Five years…” I stupidly parrot his answer. “Five years?!”
“Callum…” Liam takes a step towards me, reaching out to take my hand.
I slip away from him, holding up my hands to keep him away. “No. No, no, no, no, no. No kissing or sweet talking your way out of this one, Liam.”
Drake smirks and huff out a laugh, quieting instantly when I scowl at him. “You’re not home free either Chuckles, so don’t get all giggly just yet.”
I pace back and forth, trying to arrange my racing thoughts. “Ok, so you guys are exes and still best friends. That’s fine, I can work with that; I can deal with that. When did the two of you break up?”
The pair avoid my gaze, staring at the ground and shuffling their feet.
“Oh, let’s not all go talking at once now.” I cross my arms and give them my best disappointed schoolteacher look.
“A few weeks before we met you,” Liam finally answers, still not able to meet my eyes. “The social season made it impossible for our relationship to continue.”
My mouth drops open. “Run that by me again, big man?”
“We broke up a few weeks -”
“I fucking heard him the first time!” I shout, interrupting Drake. “What I require some clarification on is why neither of you thought that this little nugget of information was something I should have been told about!”
“And another thing!” I take a few steps towards Liam, poking him in the chest with my index finger. “What the fuck is your damage? Why did you need to have a social season if you were already with Drake? Is my Brat not good enough for you, huh? Or is he not good enough for your father?”
Liam’s eyes harden at my mention of Constatine.
“Oh, did I hit a nerve with that one, Your Majesty?” I poke him again. “Little Liam, always doing what daddy wants. But I’m not sure why I’m surprised; ditching me was easy enough for you, of course you didn’t have the balls to stand up for Drake either.”
His face flushes with anger, he steps closer to me, close enough that now his chest is lightly pressed against mine. I can feel him through the thin fabric of my dress shirt, feel the heat radiating off of him and every labored breath he takes as he tries to control his temper.
“Things are never as simple as you want them to be, Callum. I have commitments, responsibilities to the people of Cordonia-”
“Fuck them!” I throw my hands up in frustration. “There, I said it. Fuck the people of Cordonia. Fuck your commitments to your family, to the monarchy, to the absolutely insufferable asshats that make up the Cordonian nobility. Fuck ‘em all! What about your responsibilities to me? To Drake? What about us? The men who loved you, who wanted to build a life with you! What about us, huh?”
Liam freezes in place, staring up at me with wide, brown eyes. “You loved me?” he whispers, his voice quiet and pained.
I take a step back as I feel my cheeks heat up. “What… no, what? This is… no, we’re not talking about me right now! This is about you and your… your inability to… to…”
“You loved me,” he says again, this time a little louder. “Do you still love me?”
I glance over at Drake, telepathically promising him the best blowjob of his life if he will just get me out of this situation. He stares back at me, one eyebrow arched, seemingly just as interested as Liam in my answer to the question.
I begin to pace in a tight circle, flapping my hands in front of myself in an effort to wave away the two men’s searching looks. “No. No, this isn’t fair. I’m pissed off and I'm horny and you can’t expect me to answer a question like that when I’m like this!”
“I’m sorry… you’re what?” Liam asks, struggling to keep a straight face while Drake snickers.
“You both kept a huge secret from me! I’m fucking pissed! And it was a sexy secret… Like people probably have written fanfics about the sexy Cordonian prince and his dark and broody best friend and you’re telling me that you two banged like a screen door in a hurricane for real?! For five fucking years? My imagination is in hyperdrive right now…” I link my hands behind my neck and take a few deep breaths. “I need a drink. Or five. Don’t you dare follow me.”
I storm off to the elevator and smash the ‘DOWN’ button, tapping my foot impatiently as I wait for the elevator cab to reach the rooftop. I look back over my shoulder to see Drake and Liam watching me with forlorn looks on their faces. I turn back and resolutely stare at the closed steel elevator doors, determined to ignore them.
I will not go back, I will not go back, I will no-
“Goddamn it,” I groan, turning on my heel and stomping back to the two best friends.
“Callum?” Drake’s eyes widen in surprise.
I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and jerk him towards me, causing him to stumble a bit. “Shut up. I’m mad at you.”
I crush my mouth against his in a rough, aggressive kiss. Drake’s lips part beneath mine in instant obedience, and his tongue tentatively brushes against mine. My hand moves from back of his neck to tenderly cup the side of his face while I ravage his mouth, drinking in his taste like a man dying of thirst. I bite his lower lip, hard enough to make him whine, soothing it with a flick of my tongue before finally pulling away. Drake sways forward, chasing my lips, his cheeks red and eyes half-lidded. I smirk at his dazed expression before pressing one last firm, but chaste, kiss to his lips.
Liam awkwardly shuffles next to us, but the interested look on his face says he’s not entirely unaffected by watching Drake and I kiss. I turn towards him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him flush against me. Liam tips his face up, meeting my lips in a kiss that’s been over a year in the making. There’s nothing hurried about our kiss; Liam takes his time, his tongue languidly sliding against mine in a slow rhythm causes me to softly moan into his mouth. I feel him smile as we kiss, pleased with my reaction. I pull back just a bit, til our lips are only just touching.
“Of course I still love you, darlin’,” I murmur. “I never stopped. Insulted you even had to ask, to be honest.”
Liam giggles softly, his lips brushing against mine. “I’m not sorry… not if it gets you to kiss me like this.”
“And you.” I turn and point directly at Drake. “Before you get any silly ideas in that pretty little head of yours… You should know that fucking I love you too.”
Before either of them can respond a ding sounds from behind us and the elevator doors slide open.
“Fucking finally,” I mutter, stalking into the elevator cab and frantically and repeatedly jabbing the ‘DOOR CLOSE’ button.
*****************************************************************************
Drake and Liam stand next to each other in complete silence, watching the elevator doors close behind a clearly frazzled Callum.
“What just happened?” Drake asks, stunned.
Liam slowly shakes his head. “I honestly have no idea.”
#pixelberry#choices#pb choices#choices fanfic#trr drake#choices stories you play#the royal romance#trr male mc#trr mc x liam#choices game#trr liam#king liam#choices trr#liam rys#trr liam x male mc#trr male oc#trr drake x male mc#trr drake walker#the royal romance liam#choices the royal romance#the royal romance drake#drake walker#trr fanfic#trr fandom#trr au#drake x liam#the royal romance male oc#the royal romance male mc#the royal romance liam x male mc#the royal romance drake x male mc
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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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Savage Love Chapter 14: Derby
Series: Savage Love
Fandom: The Royal Romance
Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake
Rating: R
Warnings: Mature themes
Word Count: 2,215 (not counting text messages)
My other stuff: Master List.
The next morning I slipped from Liam’s room back to mine through the secret passageways. After morning sex and breakfast, of course. He made sure there was coffee and sugar. I could only shake my head. These men. As if one of them was going to win my heart on the basis of getting my coffee to sugar ratio right. I mean, I’m not complaining. All the attention to details, all the catering to my needs. I didn’t hate it.
I was still with Liam when Drake text the first time.
The second time was right after I got out of the shower.
Then Liam.
They both made me smile.
I finished getting dressed just as knock rang out. It was Maxwell Beaumont. “Max, hey! What are you doing here?”
“Ah…I’m here to escort you to the derby. As your sponsor, remember?”
“Ok. Are all the suitors being escorted by someone from their house?”
“Not really, but Liam asked me to make sure you made it there ok and found your way to the royal box by ‘accident’.” He did air quotes with his fingers.
“Alright, then. I’m not complaining, we can get to know each other a little on the way.”
He smiled and it was a wide, open, genuine smile. The kind that makes you smile back without realizing you’re doing it. I returned it and we headed for the Beaumont limo.
In the car, Max was focused, funny, and engaging for the roughly fifteen minutes it took to reach our destination. He escorted me into the derby, stopping for the reporters to ask me questions. They were the standard questions they asked everyone. What did I think of Leo? What did I think of the other suitors? How thrilled was I to be here? Max stood by with his hands in his pockets looking bored.
Once we stepped away from the reporters, he explained how to get to the royal box then sauntered off into the crowd looking vaguely distracted. He did a good job of projecting the image he wanted the world to see. I was sure no one at court had any idea he knew any more about computers than how to update his Instagram. I could see why the crown used his services.
His directions took me right to where I needed to be. I tugged my skirt down and smoothed the top before opening the door and entering the box.
Every head turned in my direction. Leo, Liam, Neville and a couple of other men I didn’t recognize.
“Lady Riley! What are you doing here?” Liam called out.
“Oh! Sorry! I….I must have gotten turned around! I was looking for the box for the suitors, obviously.”
“It’s fine Lady Riley.” Leo responded, “Come on in and let me introduce you to everyone.”
Leo quicky made introductions. The other two men were Lord Tariq Lambros and Lord Rashad Faheem. When he got to Neville, I exclaimed, “We’ve already had the pleasure of meeting at the Masquerade ball!”
A smile the size of a football field crawled across his face, “I’m so gratified you remember me!”
“Of course! You made quiet the impression!” I let him kiss the back of my hand as I fluttered my lashes at him.
I had to make small talk with everyone for two reasons. One, because it couldn’t be obvious that I was sucking up to Neville since I was allegedly there to court Leo and two, because Rashad and Tariq were both tripping over themselves for my attention as well.
When Neville stepped away to take a phone call, Liam pulled me aside. “Excuse me while I borrow her for a moment gentleman.”
“Certainly.”
“Of course.”
“Just make sure you return her the way you found her.” Leo joked. I shot him a look and he laughed.
“What could you possibly need to talk to me about? I just saw you this morning.” I asked him.
“I just wanted to ask if you’d like to get together later-“
“I’m sorry, as you know, there’s a luncheon with the queen after this, a cocktail party for all the suitors later followed by the Derby Gala, then I have plans for a late dinner with-“
“Will you at least save a dance for me at the gala?”
“Oh, I will save you several!”
He started to respond but just then the door opened, and Drake stepped into the room. “Sorry I’m late, I got tied up with some last-minute bullshit.”
“Hey Captain.” I greeted him.
Drake turned to me with a smile then froze as he caught sight of Liam’s neck. His eyes flicked from Liam’s neck to me then back again. When his eyes went to Liam’s chest, I somehow knew what was about to happen a fraction of a second before it did. Drake stepped in closer to Liam and landed a punch on his chest. The right side to be exact, precisely where the bruise I had left with my teeth resided.
He didn’t hit him hard enough to be a real punch, an angry one designed to start a fight, but more of a playful one, the kind guys give when they’re horsing around. It was hard enough to hurt just a little, except for the fact that he was already injured there. Liam flinched and his hand flew up to cover the spot, “Ow! What the hell, man?”
Drake smirked, leaning in close so no one else in the room could hear, “You think I don’t know where the fucking teeth marks go when she cums?”
“What?”
Drake pulled the collar of his shirt down just enough to show the patchwork of bruises on his own chest, quite a few of them, all in varying stages of healing, from almost completely faded to dark and angry.
Liam’s eyes flicked from Drake’s chest to my face then to Drake’s face as he settled back on his heels with a cocky grin in place, “It’s ok to feel threatened by me, Drake. I get it. I am a pretty damn good catch.”
“I’m not threatened by you, Li.”
“Could have fooled me.” Liam leaned in closer to Drake, so I had to strain to hear his response, “Quality over quantity, right?”
I cleared my throat and leaned in to hiss at them, “Stop it, both of you! This is not the time or place for a pissing contest and if your posturing fucks up my case, I’m done with both of you, understand?”
They stepped away from each other immediately, both flushing as they tried to apologize.
“I’m sorry Riley-“
“Brooks, I didn’t mean-“
“Just drop it! I’m literally in the middle of trying to build a rapport with a suspect right now! If my personal life starts interfering with my job, I’ll have no choice but to shut it down!” I was not going to start bungling investigations at this late date. I always got my man, or woman as the case may be. I hadn’t become the agent with the highest clear rate by letting myself get distracted by my personal life and I wasn’t about to start now.
They both opened their mouths but before either one could get a word out, I told them, “Don’t say anything else! Just nod if you understand.”
They both nodded. “Ok. Good. I’m going back to work now. Don’t either of you talk to me for at least an hour!” I spun and walked back to Leo and the rest of the group.
Leo leaned over to whisper in my ear, “Everything ok?”
“It’s fine.” I told him, “Just a bunch of male ego bullshit.”
He stifled a laugh, “What did you expect? They’re both crazy about you. Don’t act like you don’t know that miss reverse harem.”
It was my turn to stifle a smile as I punched his arm playfully, “Shut up, Rys. I’m here for a reason, remember?”
“Right.” His eyes searched the room for a moment then he called out, “Neville, a favor?”
“Certainly, Your Majesty. What can I do for you?” He asked as he hurried over.
“Lady Riley requires an escort to the proper box. As much as I enjoy her company, it would cause quite a scandal if I’m accused of favoring one suitor over the others, so it can’t be me that escorts her.” Just like we’d rehearsed. Leo really would make a good agent. Too bad he’s going to be king. What a waste.
Neville looked hesitant at first, likely not wanting to miss out on an opportunity to suck up to the future king. So, I leaned toward him, placing my hand on his arm with a coy smile, “I requested you.” I shot my eyes over to Tariq and Rashad then back to him to emphasize the point that I had other options.
That did the trick instantly. His face brightened as he offered me his arm, “I would be honored and delighted to escort you, my lady!”
I wrapped my arms around his as we left the room. I made eye contact with both Drake and Liam on my way out. I glared at them to be more specific. They both looked completely chastised but hell if I was letting them off the hook. Let them stew for an hour wondering if I was going to forgive them or not. They deserved it.
I plastered a fake smile on my face and tipped my head up to stare at Neville with a calculated look of adoration as he droned on about his collection of elephant figurines. His collection of ivory elephant figurines.
It was disgusting. Imagine slaughtering an endangered animal then carving its likeness out of its own tusks. Who does that? Who buys that? Do they not see the horrible irony?
“That’s so interesting.” I lied. “I’d much rather spend time with you than go back to the rest of the suitors.”
“How are you getting on with them?” He asked, “Any impressions so far?”
“Well,” I demurred, “I do find Lady Madeleine interesting. We share some similar philosophies and I believe she’d make a fine queen.”
It was a calculated gamble. If I was correct that both Madeleine and Neville were members of the Via Imperii, this should net me both his approval and trust as well as hers. It worked. I could see the wheels turning in his head before he asked me, “Similar philosophies? Such as? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Oh, I don’t mind at all, Neville! I’m sure that you would agree, being the man of great discernment that you are.” I gave him a dazzling smile before leaning in to confide, “I just hope that whoever Leo chooses is one of us, you know what I mean? Someone that understands how to prioritize the interests of the upper classes. I mean, if poor people were so important to society, they wouldn’t be poor, would they?”
The smile that spread across his face told me I’d struck pay dirt. He squeezed my hand as he replied, “My God, yes! It’s so refreshing to meet a woman that gets it! I know that being charitable is all the rage right now, but interest in the lower classes is really just a hobby and should have no place in government.”
I managed to give him a real smile by imagining shoving his face into a pile of steaming dog shit as I responded, “Oh, absolutely! I mean, spend your money on whatever you want. I suppose giving it away to the filthy hoards isn’t any less wasteful than gambling it away. But at least when you gamble, you have a chance of getting a return on your investment!”
He laughed like I’d said something hilarious. “Ah, here we are, this is your box. But before you go, I’m attending a dinner party tomorrow with a group of friends I think you’d fit right in with. Would you care to accompany me?”
I fluttered my lashes and adopted body language that screamed I was shy. One of my best moves considering I am actually the opposite of that. But all those years of community theater while I was at university certainly paid off. “Well, I would love to, Neville, but if it’s not an engagement for all the suitors, I can’t risk my reputation….”
His face fell then I pretended to reconsider, “Unless…”
His head snapped up, “Unless what?”
“I mean…if I could bring one of my sponsors with me, then no one could think anything untoward was going on.” I mentally held my breath as he considered that.
“Do your sponsors share your…philosophy?”
“Oh, yes! I can assure you that they do!”
His smile broadened, “Excellent! Bring them along then! I’ll send a car for you at six.”
I suppressed my glee, not only was I going to a dinner party most likely filled with Via Imperii members, but I’d wrangled an invitation for Max as well. Two sets of eyes was always better than one and if we were exceedingly lucky we might be able to tag team, one of us providing a distraction while the other planted some listening devices.
I practically skipped into the box. Drake’s plan had worked like a dream.
#savage love#angelasscribbles#choices fic writers creations#cfwc fics of the week#trr#choices#captain drake walker#agent riley brooks#liam rys#the royal romance fanfic#the royal romance#drake walker#choices stories you play#drake x mc#liam x mc#liam x oc#drake x riley#love triangle#angst
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The Common Romance
I finally landed in Melbourne, Australia. I have worked my ass off to get this dream job as a Software Engineer in this dream city. Getting the job wasn’t as difficult as getting the Visa. Even though my employer has sponsored me, the last formality for the visa is still pending. After landing in Oz, I have to attend an interview and get my visa stamped by the immigration officer. Pheww... "Keep calm, it’s the last step, and there are hardly any rejections at this step... Deep breaths...", keeping my composure, I head to my sister’s place, where I’ll stay for the initial days.
The next morning, I hurriedly collect my documents, and then take a cab to the Immigration office. As I walk across the Immigration Office my clumsy and anxious ass drops a document or my mobile or wallet every few steps.
Drake Walker, Immigration officer, I read the nameplate outside his office. I wait outside in the waiting lobby, impatiently making E-O-E-O faces. It’s been 2 hours, and my name has not been called. Everyone seems to have a prior appointment except me. Waiting... And waiting...
It’s lunchtime now. I know this because I see the immigration officer move out of his office, and yes, also there is a display board that says ‘Office will be closed for a lunch break between 12:30-1:30’. But mostly the immigration officer. I didn’t get a good look but he’s ruggedly handsome. Tall, I guess 6 feet and a good build. I follow him as if I was charmed. “Pss.. stop following the immigration officer you idiot!”, says my rational self. They win this time, but I am already in the canteen following him. I head to the vending machine while he is, well, I lost him. I look around as I get my snack pack. Obviously, he’s eating a salad. “Handsome men don’t eat like pigs and you”, says my critical self.
“How about we sit next to him? He’s eating alone”, says my swooned self.
“Have it occurred to you that maybe he wants to, not like he can’t get a company”, says Miss rational.
“I’ll sit next to him and bring up my visa appointment”, says my smart self. “And we can ogle at his handsomeness”, says Miss Swooned. So after a detailed discussion with myself, I decided to head to him with my snack pack and a water bottle. I hope he’s not done by now.
I am at his table and he’s busy looking at his phone. My tongue seems numb, but somehow I mutter, “I sit here!”. I wanted to make it a question, but it came out as an exclamation in broken English. He looks up. Those gorgeous eyes filled with depth and annoyance? He looks around, and he can see a few empty tables. “Covid protocol, can’t share tables”. “That’s not a covid protocol!”, my ego frowns as I take a seat at the next table.
“Ok! We have lost hope of a romantic relationship because of this pathetic and desperate start. Now, he’s the immigration officer, and you are the applicant. Try it that way”, came Miss Smart for rescue.
“I have an appointment for my 186 application with you. I need to get it stamped before I can join the office, so how long does it generally take”, I am suddenly more confident when I talk professionally, in a totally unprofessional and inappropriate setting.
At first, the handsome officer tries to ignore me and pretend that the question was not directed at him. But taking a quick look at my leaning posture, question mark face and constant stare, he sighs. “It can take 1-46 days.”
“His voice is so raspy and the accent…. Shut up slut!”, fight Miss swooned and Miss rationality.
“46 days?”, I was seriously concerned until I saw him give a sly smile.
“Emm... I can keep coming here for 46 days, no problem. Not like I have a job”, I smile confidently at him. I’m sure he can sense the cockiness in my voice.
“Should I wait the second half of today, Mr Walker?”, I dare to ask him, while this is going in my head, “Mr Walker, that sounds so sexy!”
He finished up, and I think early, because of my irritating presence. “I’m afraid we are all booked today and won’t be able to take any on-spot cases. You got your appointment right? You can come when you get a call”
“I’ll definitely cum when I get your call”, I blurt out.
“I won’t be calling you, my office will”, he said with a straight face.
“Why don’t you just jump into his arms, that will be more desperate and embarrassing”, he leaves with his salad plate while I’m being slut shamed by myself.
…………………………………………………………………………
“Come in!”, Drake tries to stifle a giggle and keep a straight face as he calls in the next applicant. A few routine questions before he stamps the Chinese family’s Visa.
“Come in!” he calls in the next applicant. “Fuck that idiot tiny woman! She ruined come in for me.”, Drake frowns, thinking to himself and the Pakistani applicant gets nervous. “Is anything wrong Sir?”, asked Ahmed. “No, Mr Khan, your papers seem just right. Welcome to Australia”. Drake goes about stamping his Visa.
“Next!”, Drake sighs tiredly as he calls the next applicant. 4 more hours of this before he glides towards his car.
…………………………………………………………………………
He likes taking the scenic route home. It’s long but has no traffic, it does remind him of a far land he once called home. This is a bittersweet path because Home is the beautiful memories, but home is also the pain and the betrayals. Some days, he can’t brace the memories, and either take a sharp u-turn to a different route or speed past this one. Today, was not such a day. Today he tried to distract himself. His hand reaches toward the car radio, but who is he kidding. Australian music doesn’t excite him like the Cordonian classics. It has been almost 2 years in Aussieland, but he still hasn't completely adapted. “Huh.. hmm. Hmm.. hmm..”, he tries to hum, but he knows he can’t do it. He’s clicking his fingers on the steering wheel. “Today was fine, that Syrian family totally deserves to move here. That’s what the humanitarian Visa is for. I’ll speak to Kyle to escalate the process tomorrow.”, he tries to think about something interesting in his day. “What else... the British journalist and that tiny lady can wait a few more days. The tiny lady, she was utterly annoying.”, he involuntarily chuckles at her naiveness. Then he freezes for a second. He clearly remembers how Naive Riley was. That’s exactly how she used to look at him, at Liam. He sharply crams the accelerator and speeds home, to his kids.
#the royal romance#drake walker#trr#drake trr#drake x mc#choices fanfiction#choices drake#choices trr#trr fanfic#the royal romance fanfiction#the royal romance fic#the royal romance au#the royal romance fanfic#drake walker fanfiction#trr drake walker#drake walker fanfic#team drake#drake#drake x oc#drake x riley#liam x mc x drake#liam x riley#oc rp#melbourne#australia
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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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(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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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
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