So I am a little neurotic, and one day I was thinking I kind of want to play the choices games by release date! I have VIP membership so I’m not tight on keys. I got a ton of diamonds saved up. The only thing MISSING was a timeline sheet, so I went a little crazy these past 2 days and made this! If you want to ever be a little neurotic like me, and play these books via release date here is a little guide for you! ENJOY!
A/N: It has been a really LONG time since I updated, but now I am pretty much finished with college. I recently moved to Italy with my husband for our new duty station. I am not working. I am completely bored. I recently replayed The Royal Romance, and here I am. If you are still following along, if you are new, thank you for your interest. I feel that the next chapters are more like a different section of the story. We will be exploring in detail what happens to Catheryne as she left Cordonia. We will not forget Liam’s perspective during that time either. This is completely turning into a longer story than I originally planned. As for the tag list, it’s been a long time since I posted on Tumblr, so I am just going to use the tag list that was already pasted on past chapters. Simply let me know if you would like to be added. I am also thinking of adding my stories on Fanfiction.net, Archived of Our Own, and ChoicesFanfic.com
Summary: On the night of the Homecoming Ball, Duchess Catheryne was taken and kidnapped. What will result from this devious plan? In this Chapter, we will explore what Catheryne has been doing since she left Cordonia after being rescued.
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. They solely belong to Pixelberry. Also, credits for the image used for the book cover.
*CATCH UP HERE*
2 Years Later
Catheryne sits atop a quiet temple on top of a mountain, concentrating on feeling her breath and connecting to the nature around her. She relishes the rare, short vacations before heading to take on another job for her employers.
With her eyes closed and mind focused on meditation, she feels the reality slip away and find her center. She has had to fight, literally and figuratively, to achieve where she is now regarding her state. Here at the peak, she breathes in crisp, fresh air and finds peace within her mind. She enjoys this time she rarely gets to herself. It shocks her still when she finds herself enjoying meditation since there were constant battles and demons clawing their monstrous influences in her mind. As she breathes deeply, she recalls the time she spent wandering after leaving her heart’s home.
Flashback
When she decided to leave Cordonia, Catheryne thought the best way to find healing was to travel the globe, visit various temples and sites of enlightenment. After 3 months of wandering, she ends up in a female monastery in Romania. The nuns were initially suspicious of her. She couldn’t blame them, really. Any girl who shows up at the doorstep of a monastery dirty and with nothing to give should be given some level of skepticism and curiosity. She was just thankful that after a week the sisters let her stay.
The first month there was an adjustment, but not impossible. The nuns could be harsh at times, but she enjoyed the rigidness and routine she was subjected to live accordingly. Her day always began at 6am and ended at 10pm. Her schedule consisted of her meals, physical exercise, prayers, meditation, religious studies, and her work chores. She was grateful for the distraction. It took her away from the problems she didn’t want to face.
It was at night after her long day when her troubles would plague her. She found it hard to sleep when she always saw his face behind her eyes. It made her heart ache in ways she did not know was possible. She missed him terribly. Every night all she wanted to do was pack her things and come home to him, but she knew she could not because her horrible memories would follow.
She painfully remembered all that she had endured being trapped and tortured in that hellish cave. She remembered coming home thinking she was free, and that thought soon became her nightmare. She became enraged knowing Amir is dead, yet he won at the end. He poisoned her mind and turned her into his weapon. She wondered if she will ever be free of it.
It was at the monastery where she first learned how to properly meditate. The sisters taught her that healing and enlightenment can only come when we can find our center. During those first few months, it was horrible. Every time she tried to concentrate and let her walls down, the memories of hurting Liam would come back, and she would begin to feel the first symptoms of a panic attack. Some of the sisters tried to help by suggesting she talked about it, but how could she? How could they understand what she went through and what she continues to fight through?
When talking about it was not an option, they suggested to learn how to forgive herself for things she could not control. It took her a long time to come to terms with that lesson, but soon she was able to see the truth behind it. All that had happened to her, and the results afterward were not in her sphere of control, she was not to blame. Six months of long hours of meditation & rigorous schedules would prove to be the start of her journey to healing, until one day a face would walk into her sanctuary of peace. A face that she thought she would never see again.
“Uncle Johnny?” she was shocked to see in the head mistress’ office. She could not believe he was here. Her only surviving relative was here. How did he find me here?
“Hello, Catheryne,” he said nonchalantly as if he had been in her life all these years. She did not know what to say or think about his presence here. How could she? She had not seen her uncle for more than a decade!
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“Sister, may I please speak to my niece in private?” he asked the head mistress, ignoring her. The older lady nodded curtly and walked out of the room giving the small office to themselves.
When the door clicked close, her uncle finally got up and walked slowly closer to her. He circled her as if she was a specimen under his scrutiny and she glared at him.
“You’ve grown taller, squirt,” her uncle observed.
“What? Did you expect me to stay the same after my parents died?” she angrily spat back as he came face-to-face with her. She saw her father’s feature in his uncle’s face. She saw the same hazel eyes and brown hair. The same smile lines that lined his face. Her father and uncle could practically be twins in the similarity of their features. It tugged painfully at her heart. It’s just another reminder of what life had taken from her. She saw her uncle’s mouth begin to form the words of reply, but she didn’t give him the chance.
“Where were you, Uncle Johnny? Why weren’t you there to take care of me when Mom and Dad died? Why did you leave me all alone? Why?” she tearfully screamed at him. She hated herself for crying in front of a man she barely knows, but she could not contain the loneliness and resentment that she felt inside after being in the monastery for such a long time with no one who knew her.
When she blinked the tears away, she saw the first sign of genuine emotion in her long lost relative. She saw pain and regret behind his honeyed eyes. Then, he did the unexpected and closes the distance between them and enclosed her in a tight embrace. An embrace that when she closed her eyes and allowed her other senses in the forefront, reminded her of her father’s loving hugs. She gave in and wrapped her arms around her uncle. She had forgotten what it felt like to have family, and she was grateful that at least she still had someone left to care for her.
“Would you take a walk with me?” Uncle Johnny asked after he had let go. She nodded as she wiped her tears away. She led him out of the office and into the gardens. They walked silently to their destination. All around sisters of the monastery glanced at her uncle. It is rare for men to step foot in this enlightened piece of earth.
Most of the sisters that found their way here were to escape the clutches of men’s wrath and influences. Most have found forgiveness and healing and didn’t hold grudges toward the opposite sex. But there were still those who were rather new at the monastery that had anger, and their eyes showed it. If her uncle saw the glare, he did not show it, but stoicism always did run in their family. One learned to hide their thoughts and emotions when working in the clandestine field.
When they arrived at the gardens, they sat at a bench overlooking the valleys below the mountain where the monastery is perched. The sun rested at its peak and bathed them in its bright rays. Even though the last of the spring is upon them, a cool breeze still remained where Catheryne lived, high above the altitudes. She will not miss the winter weather here. It was harsh and bitter. She had to live off of endless, bottomless cabbage soups for weeks on end because it was all that could grow in their small garden. Yet, she was still grateful for the minimalist lifestyle. It was a good contrast to her previous life where she almost became queen. The thought brought with it the never-ending sadness and heartache. She needed to forget.
“So, what are you doing here, Uncle Johnny? And how did you find me?” she asked to distract herself. Besides, she needed to know how her relative found her all the way here in a remote mountain monastery.
“I came to recruit you. The Shadow Order could really use your talents. Our resources are global and it’s how I found you here. Agents are everywhere and nowhere. Shadows for a reason.”
“Recruit me? What makes you think I would go? Or want to live the life my parents died for?”
“I…I saw what happened to you in the news. I heard about the…lingering side effects. You need help and resources to properly heal. The Order has been experimenting on counteracting the brainwashing methods that Amir similarly used on you. Besides, it would be nice to have my niece again. We’ve been far apart for too long. Family should stick together. I regret not being able to be there for you after your parents died.”
“Speaking of, why were you never there? I thought you would have custody of me after my parents passed away, but instead I went into the foster system!” she asked, the previous anger rising back from deep within her. She watched as he thought of the right thing to say. His face showed hesitancy before finally releasing a deep sigh.
“After your parent’s passing, I was determined on leaving the Order. I knew that your father would never forgive me if I did not take care of you. But I did not want to have part of the Order if I was going to take you in. I wanted to leave it all behind, and I was almost finished in the transition before I found out the truth,” he explained.
“Oh, you mean the truth, that my parents were murdered instead of the lie that they died in a car accident? I never thanked you for finding the people responsible and making them pay for it,” she casually said as she stared at the expanse of the landscape before her. She quickly glanced at her uncle’s shocked expression before he fixes it back to his stoic demeanor. He did not need to say anything else, so they both just looked down at the grasslands below and reminisced on their loved ones.
After a while, her uncle turned to her.
“I think it’s time to discuss the other reason why I came to find you,” he says.
“What is that?” she replies.
“Like I said, I would like to recruit you to the Order.”
“Oh right, I almost forgot,” she finally looked over to her uncle to reject his proposal, but before she could her uncle interjected.
“I know what you went through, the reason behind why you sought refuge here in the monastery, but The Order can help you. We know about the faction that took you. We know about their…unorthodox methods, and we have been experimenting on countermeasures. We would like you to join so we can study it, and we can continue helping with the healing process and cure. We also have another reason we think you would like to join. I don’t know if your parents explained what The Order really was about,” he waited for her to acknowledge.
“Not really. Mom and Dad trained me, but they really only told me that it’s because they gain a lot of enemies from the work they did.”
“Well, The Order is a shadow organization tasked on protecting world leaders by taking down their enemies quietly. Recently, we have heard chatter of a sub-faction of the group that Amir was part rising out of the ashes you, quite literally, burned and exploded to the ground,” he explained.
“So, you mean, that if I join The Order, I will be tasked with protecting…” she could not quite say his name.
“Well, usually, The Order is careful about assigning agents to projects they have personal relations, but your dear uncle has some connections in the organization. It doesn’t hurt that you are a prodigy born from two of the best agents The Order has produced. You have been trained all your life. You will have no problem with the transition. Although, you would still have to go through the recruit program. The favoritism can only get you so far, but I am confident you can sail through that with flying colors. So, what do you say?” he asked.
Thoughts flew through her mind. She loved the peace and enlightenment she had found living here in the monastery for the past six months. Yet, joining her uncle could help her find healing and provide her an opportunity to protect her loved ones. To protect Him. She could put the skills her parents ingrained in her to good use. She could step back into the light by hiding in the shadows.
A/N: I know it’s been forever since I’ve updated this series, but I still constantly go back to it. I must have worked on this chapter, and revised it 15 times. I just wasn’t satisfied on how it kept turning out. It’s been 2 years since I started this series, but hopefully, one day I will finish it.
Summary: Liam deals with Catheryne’s disappearance, and we also take a quick look on Catheryne’s journey out of Cordonia.
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. They solely belong to Pixelberry. Also, credits for the image used for the book cover.
*CATCH UP HERE*
Liam dismisses Drake after a long, tense conversation about Catheryne and her sudden disappearance. He is determined to find her, so he summons for Bastien to come to his office right away.
He waits for his head of security outside in his balcony with a glass of scotch in hand. One question keeps eating away in his mind. How do you find someone who doesn’t want to be found? Is finding her even what fate wants him to do? Screw fate. I love her. I will never stop looking until I find her. He has to hold onto the tiny hope of finding and being with her again if he is to remain sane.
After a few minutes of waiting, Bastien finally arrives in his office.
“Your Majesty, you summoned for me?” Bastien greets him formally.
“Yes, thank you for coming, Bastien,” he replies as he moves to sit down at his desk.
“I won’t beat around the bush. Catheryne has left and disappeared. I need you to arrange a small task force to search for her. Use any resources you need to do that. Start your search at the airport and any other forms of travel. If she’s left the country, travel manifests and workers must have recognized her. I want to know where she’s headed. I want an update on every information you uncover,” he relays his tasks to his trusted head of security and friend. Bastien didn’t seem too fazed about learning that Catheryne disappeared so suddenly.
“I will get that done right away, sir. And as asked, I do have information for you. Duchess Catheryne’s horse, Nightingale, has just returned to the palace a while ago. She’s a smart horse. She must have found her way back on her own. We’re guessing Her Grace didn’t take her too far before finding another mode of transportation,” Bastien informs his king.
“Thank you for the update, Bastien. You may go,” Liam nods toward the door as a sign of the end of their brief meeting. When the door closes, he finally lets himself grieve. His shoulders slump forward with the burden he carries. Tears of loss, exhaustion, and pain fall and he has no strength left to hold them back.
His runs his fingers through his hair as he wonders why this is happening to him. Have I done something wrong that fate or destiny sees that I suffer? Was it such a big request that I marry not just for country but for love, too? All he wanted was to be a good king for his people and rule them with Catheryne by his side, but he guess that was even too much to ask or wish.’
Half of the day passes, and Liam tries to muster enough focus to get work done. Policies need to be reviewed and signed, but he just didn’t have the energy to do it. His heart and mind ached for Catheryne’s presence. Just to see her smile, hear her voice and laughter ring down the hall, and feel her touch would heal the deep hole she left in his heart.
Liam is startled by the sound of the opening door. When he looks up, Bastien is once again standing in front of him. Bastien begins to bow, but Liam interrupts him.
“No need for formalities, Bastien. Just give me the report. Have you found anything useful on where Catheryne is heading?” Liam asked.
“After a thorough search of all modes of transportations, we found no clues of where Her Grace might be heading. We’ve warned agencies to not disclose the reason of why were searching for her. But after looking at every manifest from all forms of travel out of the country, we found no trace of her.
Her name wasn’t in any of them nor did anyone recognize her. We are speculating that with her…background…that she must have known to use an alias and a disguise to avoid being found,” Bastien finishes his report, and Liam loses even more of the tiny hope he is clinging onto. I should have known that she wouldn’t make it easy for me to find her. He lets out a deep sigh.
“Thank you, Bastien. If there’s anything we’ve learned anything about Catheryne by now is that she doesn’t do anything in half style, but I’m not giving up hope. I want you to use any resources to find her. Search through security feeds from the airport and other areas. Look for anyone that might resemble her. If that doesn’t turn up anything, branch out to other countries. I’m not losing hope,” Liam commands.
He is not losing hope. It seems the beginning of his new mantra. He will scour the face of the earth if he has to. He needs her. He can’t live without her.
~Catheryne’s POV~
Catheryne races away from the place she calls home. It takes all of her willpower to not look and turn back around. She knows that she needs to leave, but she can’t bear the thought of what Liam will go through when he wakes up.
She tries to pull her mind away before it drowns with any more guilt. She concentrates on the sounds and feel of Nightingale’s powerful stride. Before she knew it, they’ve arrived on the location where they part ways. She decided not to take her too far away.
She tugs at her horse’s reins to slow her down. When they come to a stop, she dismounts the black horse and pulls her towards the blanket of the trees to avoid being seen. She gently strokes her loyal mare’s forehead.
“Thanks, girl. For everything. But I’m afraid this is the end of our journey together. I trust that a smart horse like you can find her way back home. I know Drake will take extra good care of you,” she whispers to her equine friend. Nightingale responds with a resounding neigh and touches forehead with her as if begging Catheryne to don’t go in her own language.
“I’m sorry, Nightingale. I have to go, but I want you to watch over my friends, ok. Take care of them, and make them happy,” her voice cracks as she backs away from her. The horse tries to get closer to her, but Catheryne replied with the shake of her head.
“No, girl. You have to go, ok? Go,” she points towards where they came from. Nightingale obeyed, but before galloping away, looks back at Catheryne with sad eyes.
“Goodbye, Nightingale,” Catheryne bids her farewell and pats her rump to send her back home. She watches as the black racehorse sprints back toward the palace.
Catheryne takes a deep breath and continued her journey. I will not cry here. She rummages in her backpack for the items she needs for her disguise. She pulls out a wig, a pair of glasses, and a US passport. One important thing her parents taught her was to always have a bug out bag packed with different named passports and types of currencies. It made her escape easier to execute.
She has been planning her leave within the last 2 months. She coordinated a taxi cab to pick her up near the boardwalk where she and her gang of friends had their first late night excursion to get cronuts.
As she walks down the quiet, eerie streets, she relives the memory of the social season and the exhausting tour of Liam and Madeline’s engagement. It was the first time in her life she tasted what it felt like to not be her parent’s daughter. All her life she spent running away from her demons, until she met Liam. He brought happiness and reprieve that she was longing for.
Sure, they had problems along the way with the conspiracy against her, but she thought she would finally be free, then she was kidnapped and manipulated by those bastards. Now, she’s…she doesn’t even know who she is.
She doesn’t know how to fit in the world, her world. She couldn’t stand the looks anymore. She knew running away looks weak and, even, cowardly, but she didn’t know how to heal emotionally in the confines of the palace and courtly politics.
Before she can get deeper in her insecurities, she sees the red light of the taxi she ordered. She climbs in the back and asks the driver to take her to the airport. It was a quick fifteen minute drive. She exchanged no words upon arrival, only handing the payment for fare and gratuity to the equally silent driver.
The airport was busy with tourist, even in the middle of the night. Ever since the arrival and rise of the American duchess in Cordonia, travelers have been flooding the tiny, fairytale-like country. She hopes that they will love this beautiful land as much as she does.
Her journey through security and to the gate was smoother than she previously anticipated. She sits down by the large picturesque window and watches as dusk makes way for dawn. She waits for half and hour before the attendant calls for boarding to begin. It wasn’t long before till her plane is taxiing on the tarmac.
She looks out her window to the wonderful place below. She sees the grand palace, and the tears she’s been holding back finally rolls down her face. In the glistening golden building, her king lies peacefully asleep dreaming of good things before waking up and finding her gone. I’m so sorry, my love. I hope one day you’ll forgive me for leaving.
She closes her eyes as she takes a deep breath. She doesn’t know what the future lies ahead for her and Liam, but before anything can happen she must first find herself again and who knows how long that will take or if she ever will?
A/N: I know it’s been forever since I’ve updated this series, but I still constantly go back to it. I must have worked on this chapter, and revised it 15 times. I just wasn’t satisfied on how it kept turning out. It’s been 2 years since I started this series, but hopefully, one day I will finish it.
Summary: Liam just learned of Catheryne’s disappearance? How will he handle it?
Tag List: @devineinterventions2 @madaraism @theroyalweisme @drakewalkerwhipped @laniquelove-blog @drakesfiance @hhiggs @hellospunkiebrewster @alicars @mrswalkerreynolds @mfackenthal @simplyaiden-blog @hopefulmoonobject @blackcatkita @cocomaxley @boneandfur @lizeboredom @crayziimaginations @umccall71 @zarina-x-zig @trianiasti @ranishajay @heatherfilliez *Let me know if you want to be taken off (pun intended) or added into the tag list for this series.*
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. Also, credit to where its due for the image of the book cover.
CATCH UP HERE
Drake watches as Catherine fades into the horizon. A heavy weight settles in his heart knowing that when his best friend wakes he will again feel the lost he felt when Catheryne was first taken during the Homecoming ball. The only difference is that he won’t be able to find her unless she wants to be found.
He knows he did the right thing by letting her go. He could see how much she has changed. He could see the struggle and pain raging behind her eyes. He also knew that sometimes the palace walls can feel more like a prison than a home. She would never truly heal being stuck within its confines. He lets her go because he cares for her, too.
He decides to take a horse for a ride to clear his mind and anticipate for the impending morning coming.
“Come along, Copper,” he leads the horse out of his pen and dresses him for a ride. Once done, he climbs on top of the beautiful brown horse and tugs on the reins to trot along. He needs to get away and breathe fresh air so he leads the horse towards Blackspine Mountains. It was quite the ride to get there but it’s the only place he knows where he could find a sense of peace before the storm and be as far away from the hustle and bustle of the palace and the capital.
Once they reach the spacious field on top of the mountain, he let Copper show off his power. The wind ruffles his hair, the scenery becomes a blur as the stallion runs from one side to the other.
“Woo-hoo,” Drake shouted. Copper reaches the edge of the field and the exhilaration slowly fades away. He leads the horse to a nearby tree with a good view of the horizon. He watches as the morning sun peak over the mountain. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as the rays of bright sunlight hits his face.
Meanwhile, at the palace…
Liam starts to stir from his deep, heavy sleep. The previous day, hell, the previous months had taken its toll and his body desperately needed the rest. Falling asleep beside Catheryne was the comfort and remedy he needed after a long day of kingly duties.
By the time he fully wakes, the sun was beaming brightly through the window. He checks his watch and realized his staff must have let him sleep in because the clock read 10 AM. He puts on a smile as he turns around to reach for Catheryne on the other side of the bed, but his hands met an empty sheet.
His eyes open wide and alert when he realizes she must have been gone for a while since her side of the bed left no trace of body heat. Perhaps she’s in the shower, he thought to himself. He gets up and walks straight to the bathroom to search for her.
“Catheryne? Are you in there?” He asks, yet no reply.
He moves on to the closet and opens it. Empty. Where could she be? He looks around the room for another minute when he finally noticed the neatly folded paper resting on her pillow. Maybe it’s a note saying where she went.
He walked across the room, picked up the letter, and began to read it.
My Dearest Liam,
When we first met in New York, I told you that what I wanted most in life was to fall in love. I lived and saw how my parents never failed to love each other even with the…lifestyle…that they chose. Coming to Cordonia for you, I was able to make that dream come true.
Falling in love with you has been the greatest adventure. I know with the recent events you blame yourself. You probably wish that you can turn back time and not meet me that fateful night so I wouldn’t come here, and I would be safe, but Liam I wouldn’t trade this for anything. I wouldn’t trade our love for my safety or anything in this world.
I know that you’ve been avoiding me since I woke up from the hospital. I don’t comprehend the reason why you would, but I forgive you. I know this isn’t easy for you. I guess putting distance is easier than having to deal with the situation. Ignorance and avoidance are far easier. I don’t blame you.
By now, you must be wondering why I am writing you this letter. The painful reason is to say goodbye. I am not brave enough to tell you in person. If I did, I could never fathom leaving you. Please understand that this is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. It is the most painful thing I’ve ever had to do, and I’ve been tortured.
You must be wondering why I am doing this. It’s for you. I can’t stand watching the world change around and for me anymore. Everyone looks and treats me differently in the palace. I can see fear in the eyes of our friends, and in your eyes. I can no longer be ok with being the person that holds you down.
I am also leaving for my own self. I can’t heal being trapped in the palace. I lost my old self in the walls of those tunnels. I must find who I am, how I fit into this world, into your world again. I don’t know if we will ever see each other again. One thing I ask of you is to live your life. Be happy. If not for yourself, for me. I also hope that one day you can find it in yourself to forgive me.
I love you, Liam. I will always love you. You own my heart, now and forever.
Catheryne
He didn’t realize that he was weeping until he finished reading and saw the drops of tears blurring the ink. He read the letter over and over again, his heart breaking more every time. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. I just got you back.
Liam felt his chest tighten and it became harder to breathe. He couldn’t see clearly from the tears, and he felt as if the world was spinning too fast around him. His body involuntarily sagged from the weight in his chest. He collapsed on the bed tired and alone. What is happening?
And to make it worse, a knock sounded from the other side. He didn’t want anyone to see him this way. But no matter how much he wiped his eyes, the tears kept coming.
“Little blossom?” Maxwell cautiously said as he opened the door. But he was shocked to find only Liam in the room, faced away from him. He could tell something was wrong by the way he comported himself.
“Liam? What’s wrong?” When Liam didn’t respond he came a bit closer, and saw the tears rolling down his face. He also noticed the crumpled paper lodged in his white-knuckled fist. He sat beside him, and waited till he was ready to open up.
After a few minutes, Maxwell was startled when Liam abruptly stood up and left the room. Not knowing anything, he followed him to wherever he was headed.
“Liam, are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Where’s Catheryne?” He noticed Liam’s grimace at the sound of her name, and he figured it had something to do with her and the letter still in his hands. They arrived in the large security room after practically running down the different halls of the palace.
“Bastien, I need you to pull up the camera feeds in the entire palace from the last 12 hours,” Liam ordered.
“Sir, what’s this about?” Bastien inquired.
“I don’t have time to explain right now. Just do it!” Liam commanded in fury.
Bastien nodded curtly and pulled up the feeds as instructed. Liam didn’t know what he was looking for until he saw her in one of the feeds walking to what looks to be the stables in the middle of the night.
The image shifted and it showed Drake and Catheryne talking while she dressed Nightingale. He saw every detail. He saw her hand on his shoulder. It was her saying goodbye, and Drake didn’t do anything to stop her.
“Where is Drake?” Liam asked through clenched teeth. Bastien relayed the question to guards stationed in different parts of the palace.
“I received word that he just got back from a ride, Your Majesty,” he replied.
“Tell him to meet me in my office. Now!” Liam instructed and deftly left the room with Maxwell in tow.
When he arrived in his office, he went straight to his bar cart and poured a generous amount of scotch in a tumblr and gulped it in one round.
“Liam, what’s going on?” Maxwell asked from behind him. He had completely forgotten he was there. He opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. Thankfully, he was saved by the sound of the door opening. When no greeting came, he knew it was Drake.
“Maxwell, could you give me and Drake a moment alone please?” He asked. He didn’t see it, but Maxwell nodded and walked out of the king’s study.
Drake eyed Liam and he knew by the way his friend stood that he knew about Catheryne. How could he not?
“How could you?” Liam whispered his back still turned away from his friend, and Drake was taken aback by the question. It wasn’t exactly what he was expecting.
“How could you just let her go?!” He yelled as he turned around and faced Drake, his eyes blazing with rage, hurt, and a hint of betrayal.
Drake felt awful. He opened his mouth to try and respond, but to no avail. He didn’t know how to tell his best friend in the world that he tried to convince her to stay, but knew that letting her go was the best thing for her.
“What? You have nothing to say, Drake?” Liam yelled.
“I tried to make her stay, Liam,” he whispered with his head downcast. He couldn’t look at Liam’s eyes any longer. He felt too guilty.
“Well, from the looks of it, you didn’t try hard enough because she’s gone!” Liam said. He couldn’t hold his emotions in, it seemed. He was angry. No, he was beyond angry, he was enraged for many reasons; at the man he called his friend, at her, at the fact he didn’t even get to say goodbye, he couldn’t decide.
Liam began to pace across his office to try and steam off the rage and adrenaline coursing through his veins.
“Liam, we both know that when Catheryne has her mind made up there’s nothing we can do to change it. She made the choice to leave,” Drake explained.
Liam knew his friend was right. Catheryne was head strong, but she could also be a little stubborn when it came to some things. Liam’s resolve began to fade away and he collapsed on the sofa beside him. His head rested in his hands. He was so tired, so very tired of it all.
“I just got her back, Drake, and now she’s gone again,” the sullen king murmured. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. We were supposed to get married, have a family, and grow old together. Why did you let her leave?”
“I’m sorry, Liam. I really am, man, but I didn’t fight her because…because she didn’t seem like herself anymore. The Catheryne we saved wasn’t the Catheryne we knew. She told me she needed to leave because she doesn’t fit into this world anymore and that she needed to find herself,” he relayed what she told him the previous night.
“She also told me to tell you that she’s sorry and the she loves you,” he added.
“You know what hurts the most is the fact that she couldn’t tell me that herself,” Liam said.
“Can you blame her?” Drake replied, walking to sit down across his saddened friend. “Could you honestly say that you would have let her go if she had told you herself that she was leaving?”
He contemplated the question, and he knew deep down that he wouldn’t have the strength to let her go again. He couldn’t live without her. Would that be selfish of him? He knew how much she was struggling fitting back in. He could see it in her eyes, but he was trying to ignore, be naïve, and think that over time she’ll become herself again.
“Will I ever see her again?” He asked his friend, lifting his head to look at Drake with tear-stricken eyes.
“I…I don’t know,” he honestly replied.
“You know that I have to try and find her, right?”
“I know, Liam, but we both know that if she doesn’t want, she won’t be found,” Drake admitted the painful truth.
Liam knew that, but he can’t just let her go. He has to try and find her. His sanity depends on it. He walks to the balcony of his office and gazes down at the city below. Soon, he will have to release a statement that Cordonia’s beloved duchess is gone. He doesn’t know how the people would react, but he makes a personal promise to himself. I will find you, my love. No matter how long it takes.
Summary: Neal Caffrey had met his fair share of interesting women over the years. Once or twice he thought he had known what love meant. But he learned what being in love was like when he met her. Now he must face a future without her. How will he survive?
A/N: I know I haven’t been non-existent in Tumblr world and TRR fandom. I’ve been working on this story for a while. I was looking through fanfiction stories and realized there’s never really been a Neal/Female OC angst story that caught my eye. I just don’t know why, so I decided to write one of my own.
The character’s voices might be a little different than you’ve come to know if you’ve watched the amazing show. If not, I highly recommend it. White Collar is one to binge through these uncertain times we live in. I’ve rewatched it several times now.
I apologize for any errors. I feel like I didn’t capture it very well. But please leave a like or better yet a comment if you like it and I will post the next chapter.
Disclaimer: Characters mostly belong to Jeff Eastin. OCs and the plot concept are mine.
Tags: @devineinterventions2 @madaraism @theroyalweisme @drakewalkerwhipped @drakesfiance @hhiggs @hellospunkiebrewster @alicars @mrswalkerreynolds @mfackenthal @simplyaiden-blog @hopefulmoonobject @blackcatkita @cocomaxley @boneandfur @lizeboredom @crayziimaginations @umccall71 @zarina-x-zig @writtenbycandy @ranishajay @heatherfilliez @drakelover78 @indiacater @pens-girl-87 @katurrade @speedyoperarascalparty @greyeyedsmile14 @barbaravalentino @zilch3 @mynameiskaylabella @darley1101 @blznbaby @trashbagfullofflannels @bella-ca @highlyselectiveextrovert @kacie-0156 *I just used my usual tag list. Let me know if you want to be taken off if you don’t want to receive notifications about this story. Also let me know if you want to be added.*
Four days earlier...
Earlier in the week, the FBI caught wind of an unidentified man that came into the city in the hopes of selling a stolen Rembrandt painting in New York. It sparked their attention because the particular piece hadn't been seen or heard for at least two decades. The storm on the Sea of Galilee went missing in 1990 and now it has resurfaced.
Peter and Neal followed the trail of clues and they managed to set up an appointment with their mystery man in Gramercy Park. As per protocol, the FBI staked out and waited for their man to show up from the confines of a worn utility truck parked two blocks away from the meeting site. Peter, Neal, Jones, and Diana all took a screen of their own and watched for anyone suspicious to show up.
"There," Neal pointed on his screen as an anonymous man sat down on one of the benches. He was a young man in his late 20s to early 30s with brown hair, but what caught Neal's eye was his demeanor. His knee was bouncing up and down, his fingers were fidgeting, and his eyes kept glancing and looking around nervously. This man was no art thief. He was just a young man. He looked at Peter to tell him, but from the looks of it he already knew what he was going to say.
"Guys, I don't think this guy is our man. Just look at him. He doesn't even come close to the profile of an art thief. I don't think this guy can steal a candy bar from a gas station. I think we are looking for another guy. This guy is just a middleman," Peter told his team.
"I agree, boss, so what's the plan?" Diana asked.
"We send Neal in to find out what he wants, and go from there," he answered. He watched as Neal stood up, fixed his tie and suit, and flashed his signature, smug smile before exiting the van.
Neal confidently walked towards the bench the man was sitting on, but before he could even come near him the young man glanced at him, ducked his head, and appeared as if he whispered something to an earpiece. Guess that confirms the theory of this guy being just a patsy, but now Neal knew he'd been made. Without showing realization, Neal kept walking acting as if he was just taking a stroll through the park.
He made a big loop back towards the van and informed the others when he got there that the still unidentified knew who Neal was and he informed his partner, or employer, of him through the use of an earpiece.
"By the looks of it, he knew who I was. I don't think this plan is much of a plan anymore, Peter," Neal said.
Peter had his thinking, planning face on. Then, a brief look of hesitation flashed on his face. No one else would have caught it but Neal was a master at detecting facial expressions, subtle or otherwise. He saw it. When Peter turned to him, he saw it in his eyes. He beckoned him to talk outside the van so he followed.
"What's up, Peter?" Neal inquired.
"I was thinking. This guy came to New York out of the blue to sell a valuable, stolen painting. What does that tell us? He's desperate to get the piece out of his hand, so he needs to find a buyer fast. What if we put a middle man on the table?" Peter explained.
"A fencer?" Neal questioned although he knew it was the right answer. "Where are we going to find someone good enough to act as an art fencer? Diana? She's good, but I have a hunch this guy is going to need someone more well-versed in the world of fine art. I would suggest Mozzie but he's been...occupied...since the Cape Verde fiasco. So who else is there?" Neal explained.
Peter looked at him with a look of hesitation with just a dash of regret. It dawns on Neal why he was looking at him that way.
"Oh, no. No. No, Peter, No. You are not bringing her into this," Neal began to object to his friend's idea.
"Neal, listen, she's the only chance we have of catching this guy. With her background in situations like this, who could be more perfect?" Peter tried to persuade. Neal was still not convince. He did not like this at all. Not one bit. Peter had one more card to play to try and get Ryne to do it.
"Well, how about we ask her opinion on it?" Peter slowly asked. He had come to know the young woman well in the year and a half she's been in Neal's life. He knew if anyone could change Neal's mind, it's her.
Neal had always been the romantic. Peter had seen him fall too easily and get heartbroken and dealt with loss no one should ever have to go through. He truly thinks that Neal loved them in his own way, but not the way he loves Ryne. Of all the women he's seen come and go, Kate, Alex, Sara, even Rebecca, in his friends life she's the only woman he was the most protective about. He could admit that seeing his friend care about someone the way he cared about Ryne gave him hope that Neal could have what he has with Elizabeth. A home, a family, love, happiness, contentment on where he is and what he has.
"Fine. Come by the apartment later," Neal gave in and walked away but not back to the van.
"Where are you going?" Peter asked him.
Neal turned around and a flashed a bright smile, "To make my case before you show up." He arrived at June's house and as he does everyday since he moved in he went to say hello to his beautiful, kind landlord before making his way upstairs. He looked everywhere on the lower floors for her, but he figured she currently wasn't home so he headed upstairs to his apartment.
The rich tones of a lively piano music being played gradually became louder as he ascended the narrow stairwell. A grin began to form on his face as he remembered the animated conversation they had about bringing getting a piano to his apartment.
"Come on, babe. It's all I'm asking. Everything else in the apartment is yours. I just want one thing that's for me. My own mark on Neal Caffrey's perfect apartment," she said in almost whiny, but endearing voice.
"Ryne, I just don't see the practicality of having a piano in here. Do you know how hard it will be to get it up here? And where would we put it?" Neal reasoned while tying his tie in front of the tall mirror beside their bed . He turned around to face her after he finished fixing himself.
She sashayed toward him slowly, enticingly, until coming to a stop in front of him to fix the lapels of his designer jacket.
"There's plenty of room in front of the bed," she suggested, almost pouted, and looked at his blue eyes with her big, hazel one pleadingly. The only thing missing was batting eyes, but she was not a little girl begging for candy. She's was a sophisticated woman who knew that the man in front of her would give her the world if she asked for it. He couldn't resist her, and she knew it.
"Ugh, fine, you can have a piano in here," he gave in and laughed when she jumped for joy at getting what she wanted. "The great Neal Caffrey tamed by big eyes and pouty lips. What have I become?" He looked down and shook his head with feign disappointment.
She lifted his face by the chin and flashed the brightest of smiles before she closed in and gave him a passionate kiss. One of his hands held the back of her head while the other wrapped around her waist to bring her closer to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers through his brown locks.
Had he no plans of meeting Peter, he would have gladly had his way with her on the apartment they now shared. Funny, even though Sara lived in his apartment for a brief time he never considered them sharing his home. It was always his, and Sara was there conveniently due to circumstances at the time they were dating. That's not the case with Ryne. She's different. He wanted to share everything with her, to be with her, to spend every waking minute of his life in the comfort of her arms. It was at that moment he realized he wanted to be hers forever.
Neal Caffrey was smitten with her. He knew he had never felt like this with anyone before. Sara had been close to capturing his heart, but she demanded a life he couldn't give her. With all the women that came to his life, she's the only one that didn't want anything from him. She didn't demand him to change, to be less the conman and more the honest-living-type-of guy. She encouraged and loved that he needed to live an almost free-spirited life. She simply loved him, Neal Caffrey, and all his facets, no more and no less.
"I love you, Ryne Beneventi, more than anything in this world, more than the finest art or jewelry. If you would have me, I want to be yours forever," Neal proclaimed as he pulled away from the kiss and looked deeply into her eyes. He held her closer to him. Neal had never in his life said those three words to anyone but her.
Kate knew he loved her, but he never said the words aloud. It was always implied, assumed. Alex was a spontaneous relationship. They had something, but not enough for those words. With Sara, he came close. He realized he fancied the "domestic" life with her. He cared for her perhaps a bit more than the others. He even proposed to her as part of a job they were doing. Rebecca, she, was a different case. A loose canon not worth mentioning.
But Ryne, she was the light in the darkness. She was his compass when he felt torn on which direction he should go. She was the breath he needed to live.
"I love you, Neal Caffrey. And I am yours as much as you are mine. Forever," she replied with a bright smile as she caressed his cheek softly with a warm, soft hand. He leaned to her touch and kissed the back of her palm before pulling away.
He would have loved to have stayed with her the whole day, but almost in cue his phone began to ring. His leash beckoned.
In the present, Neal shook the memory away and proceeded up the flight of stairs towards their apartment. He opened the door quietly as to not disturb her. He leaned by the doorway mesmerized by the picture painted in front of him with Ryne lost in her world of music simultaneously filling him with joy and contentment he never knew he could feel.
A/N: I’ve had this published in Wattpad for a while now. I just have been too lazy to publish it here. Sorry. I just got back into being active this week when editing my Masterlist.
Summary: Another attack shakes the palace grounds. Can Scarlet fight them off and protect her prince?
Tags: @devineinterventions2 @madaraism @theroyalweisme @drakewalkerwhipped @drakesfiance @hhiggs @hellospunkiebrewster @alicars @mrswalkerreynolds @mfackenthal @simplyaiden-blog @hopefulmoonobject @blackcatkita @cocomaxley @boneandfur @lizeboredom @crayziimaginations @umccall71 @zarina-x-zig @writtenbycandy @ranishajay @heatherfilliez @drakelover78 @indiacater @pens-girl-87 @katurrade @speedyoperarascalparty @greyeyedsmile14 @barbaravalentino @zilch3 @mynameiskaylabella @darley1101 @blznbaby @trashbagfullofflannels @bella-ca @highlyselectiveextrovert *I just used my usual tag list. Let me know if you want to be taken off if you don’t want to receive notifications about this story. Also let me know if you want to be added.*
"I apologize, Amer –," Maxon's mention of America paralyzes me to my core. My breathing halts. My heart beat pounds in my ears as my nervousness rise. I spend all energy to keep my facial expression as neutral and empty as I can. Has he figured out who I am? Was it really that easy? What gave me away? My physical features or the way I have acted when he was around? Will he change his view of me? Will he continue to hate me? All these questions swim around my brain so fast that I get dizzy.
A panic attack threatens to grow from deep within me and I fight to suppress it. I control my staggered breathing trying to regain prevent myself from spiraling.
"Are you alright?" as if my hearing unclogs, I hear Maxon speak to me.
I don't respond. I couldn't.
"I apologize. I was about to call you America. It's just...you remind me so much of her. The sound of your voice even sounds like hers, but I know that can't be. Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for my childish behavior. I don't know what has come over me. I guess ever since you told me that, Ame-, shewas dead I haven't been thinking clearly."
I internally sigh with earned relief that he didn't recognize who I am. This was too close. I can't give him any hint of detection. If he finds out, I can't protect him.
He continues to talk, and I try to pay attention, "Although, forgive me, but I am having a hard time trying to picture how you and...her...would've come across each other. I don't see you, how do they say it, hanging out with the same crowd?"
"You're right. We led completely different lives, so I understand."
"So?"
I cross my arms and quirk my brows in response, confused at his inquiry.
"Sorry, I thought I was pretty clear that I was asking how you met."
Oh. That. I guess I should have known he would keep asking about her. If I answer his question, it would lead to the topic of her death. My love for him wishes to spare him the pain, but I know he would only keep asking and the unknowing will only tear him apart from the inside out and so against my better judgment I tell him my cover story.
"America and I met while we were both being held deep within a Southerner's Rebel Camp."
Maxon's warm brown eyes widen as the words fell out of my mouth.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I was captured during a rebel attack. I was carried and held in their camp for what seemed like months. I would not have survived that...experience... if weren't for the companionship I built with her during our time there. We thought we were going to never make it out alive. Over the course of our stay there, we got to know each other very well. She shared of her time here and I of my career and my agency," I recall the rehearsed story the Force made for America's death.
"Was...was she...tortured?" his question takes me by surprise. I didn't expect such a forward question.
"Do you really want to know?" I sincerely asks as I lean forward to look closer at him, gauging an answer from his beautiful orbs. He doesn't answer my curiosity, but I can tell from his body language that he really wanted to know even if he knew it might be painful to hear the "truth".
"Yes, she was," I whisper reverently. It's the truth. Scarlet is America, and America is Scarlet. Scarlet was tortured during her time with the rebels.
Maxon's hand fly to his mouth and his eyes water. Tears threaten to spill, but he holds them back. Afraid to show his vulnerability in front of me.
"It's ok to cry. It's ok to grieve for what you have lost," I reassure him that there's nothing wrong about what he's feeling.
"It's my fault. Her death is my fault. Six years ago, I let my anger get the best of me. The rebels attacked and because of my resentment I didn't pay attention to her. I didn't want to worry about her. I didn't want to feel anything for her. I thought she betrayed me when I saw her with that guard. If I didn't let my pride consume me, I wouldn't have been so blind, so careless. I would have protected her. I wouldn't have let her be captured," the cries he tries so hard to keep within fall and the pain and the guilt shakes his frame. All I wanted to do was to reach out and comfort, to cry and tell him that it was a lie. I am still alive. I am still fighting for him.
"You know, the last thing I hear every night is the sound of her screaming my name?" he sniffles and my heart shatters furthermore. I'm so sorry, Maxon. "I tried so hard to find her through the chaos before the guards dragged me off to the safe room. When the dust cleared, and no one found her, I knew the worse has happened. I just didn't want to accept it. I guess it was easier to hate her than admit to my shame and guilt."
"She loved you to the very end, you know. Every time she spoke of her time here, she would only recall of her memories of you. You should know that she died a hero. She died saving me. When the agency has finally traced my whereabouts, she sacrificed herself so I could escape. Her blood is on my hands, too," I continue with a lie.
"She did tell me to tell you that the only thing that she ever wanted was your happiness. She wanted you to live a long, happy life," those statements were the truth. Everything I have done in the last six years was so that he can have a happy life.
As if the universe demanded that I prove the statement, a loud, rattling explosion shakes the palace. A distinct shift goes off in my internal mind. At the moment, I'm no longer the director but the fighter.
I don't stay behind to see what Maxon does. I trust that he will follow protocol and do what he has always done and run to a safe room.
"Where are you going? We need to get to a safe room," he yells. His voice gradually gets fainter as I run towards the danger. I know exactly who it is and what, or who, they are coming for and I am not going to let them succeed. I exit the dining room and stop at the base of the grand staircase.
James finds me and I nod telling him that I'm ready. I pull out my gun that's hidden in my back and switch the safety off. Palace guards run about taking staff to their respective safe bunkers. Some immediately take defensive positions to protect.
Their training is such stark contrast to my agents. We aren't trained to wait for the fight. We run towards. We fight to eliminate threats, quickly and aggressively. On cue, Liam runs up with Alicia, Jake and Sam trailing behind him.
"What do you want us to do, Scarlet?" Liam speaks up.
"Follow me," and we sprint towards the front door. When we get outside, we can see the silhouette of a heavy, armored truck coming through the steel iron gates and speedily going down the very, long driveway. A hostile stick out from the roof and launches another grenade with a rocket launcher, exploding 300 feet away from where we stand.
I say a silent prayer that the reinforcement came in from Fennley this morning. We have more guards, more weapons and a motorcycle. I come up with a plan, a stupid one that might end up getting me killed, but a plan nonetheless. I can't let that convoy reach the palace. I look at James' green eyes and speak to him, conveying my plan with our silent communication.
I have a plan. You got this? I tilt my head in the direction of the young agents.
He nods his head in agreement, I'll have your back.
I tuck my gun back in my waistband and I was about to run to the motorcycle, I hear the shuffle of boots. I glance back quickly to find several guards abandoning their defensive tactics and taking post in front of the palace doors. And I also see someone I didn't expect. Maxon.
What the hell is he doing out here?! And why aren't the guards dragging him out of the line of fire and into the safe room.I didn't have time to think about it since the enemies are getting closer by the second.
Since the moment I got to the castle, my emotions and thoughts have been in haywire and frenzy about facing the royals again and being in the same room as Maxon. But right now, as I am running toward the motorcycle to execute my dumb idea I feel at peace, I feel confident. I know my purpose. I know what to do in this situation. I have only one goal in mind: neutralize.
I ignite the motorcycle and under the growl of the engine, I hear Maxon's voice, "What in the world is she doing?" What am I doing? I'm doing what I do best. My job.
The bike lurches forward and I race to meet the oncoming vehicles. I see the enemy appear on the roof of the steel-cladded truck again aiming the launcher towards me and I swerve left and right to avoid the explosives.
My brown hair and black leather jacket whip behind me and my vision becomes narrowed. My heart beat quickens and my grip on the handlebars get tighter. The convoy stops ahead of me and well-equipped enemies file out of the fortified truck.
I close my eyes and downshift the motorcycle as I let go, ready and focused only one thing: fight.
A/N: I’ve had this published in Wattpad for a while now. I just have been too lazy to publish it here. Sorry. I just got back into being active this week when editing my Masterlist.
Summary: Will Maxon finally found out what happened to America all those years ago?
Tags: @devineinterventions2 @madaraism @theroyalweisme @drakewalkerwhipped @drakesfiance @hhiggs @hellospunkiebrewster @alicars @mrswalkerreynolds @mfackenthal @simplyaiden-blog @hopefulmoonobject @blackcatkita @cocomaxley @boneandfur @lizeboredom @crayziimaginations @umccall71 @zarina-x-zig @writtenbycandy @ranishajay @heatherfilliez @drakelover78 @indiacater @pens-girl-87 @katurrade @speedyoperarascalparty @greyeyedsmile14 @barbaravalentino @zilch3 @mynameiskaylabella @darley1101 @blznbaby @trashbagfullofflannels @bella-ca @highlyselectiveextrovert *I just used my usual tag list. Let me know if you want to be taken off if you don’t want to receive notifications about this story. Also let me know if you want to be added.*
The flashback takes a toll on my mental state. I struggle to tear myself away from it and get back to reality. James' grip on my hand becomes tighter as he sees the internal battle, I am absorbed in.
He silently communicates with me, Are you ok?
I don't know, I reply with honesty
I am right here if you need anything.
I know, I respond with my eyes.
I squeeze his hand conveying my gratitude of him being here with me. And not just on this mission and this wretched meal but being with me and supporting me over the last six years. I highly doubt I would have survived for as long as I have if not for him and it works the other way around.
Just as I was about to reminisce of the memories that James and I have shared through the past, I am interrupted by Princess Kriss asking me a question.
"How do you two do that? If you don't mind me asking?"
"I beg your pardon, Your Highness?" confused at the query.
"Oh, I apologize. How do you always seem to know what the other is communicating about just by simply looking at each other?"
Ah, only a few are lucky enough to have such a loyal friend in their lifetime just as James has been for me. Many have wondered and asked the very same question. James and I glance at each other and I converse with him briefly before answering the inquiry
Aren't you just tired of being asked the same damn questions over and over again, I say.
You have no idea.
You wanna tell her, or should I?
Why don't you take this one; I think I answered the last time.
I hide a smirk as I cut off the conversation and look back at the royal to reply.
"Well, Your Highness, that is a great question. James, my wonderful assistant, and I have known each other for six years. The ability to silently communicate with each other comes as a result of many years of knowing each other. Also, we have certainly been in countless life-and-death, and close call situations. Those experiences of having to depend on each other to survive and keeping each other alive has given us the wonderful gift of silent, unobtrusive communication."
She nods and a flash of curiosity goes over her face. She seems to be contemplating whether asking the question she now clearly has in her mind. She is relieved when the queen speaks.
"Miss Ryan, I–
"Please, Your Majesty, just address me as Scarlet. I'm not very fond of formalities," I boldly interrupt her.
"I am beginning to see why you and America were friends. She wasn't one for formalities either. I can recall the time that she called Maxon by his name instead of addressing him with his formal title during the Report in front of national tv," she amusedly recalls.
I remember that. I was so embarrassed when I caught my mistake after hearing the gasps and whispers that emitted from the crowd and the other selected.
"Scarlet," she corrects herself, "if I may be so bold to ask, what do you mean by those life-and-death, close call situations? Illéa has had a peaceful several years."
"Well, Queen Amberly, I don't mean to be forward with my answer, but you are not really naïve to think that the peace you've had over the last few years just came to be, do you?" I answer bluntly.
"It would be wise for you to check your tone, Miss Ryan," King Clarkson speaks with a reprimanding tone.
"It's alright, Clarkson. I appreciate her honesty and candid response. And no, Scarlet, I don't believe it just came to be, but we haven't heard any news about the Southerner's chaos or any kinds of attacks in a long while."
"That's a comfort to me. The Force operates in the shadows. The fact that you aren't seeing or hearing any news means we are doing our job. My agency has worked hard to minimize these barbaric attacks. I have spent the better half of my career trying to eradicate this group. I take a personal offense that there are still members wreaking havoc. But I promise this is the last time they go after you and your family." I declare with conviction.
I meant every word of my promise. I will do everything in my power to stop Griffin and his brother, Gareth, from destroying everything I have worked to protect. Even it meant dying in the end. I know this isn't going to be a simple negotiation. Either I kill them, or I die trying.
"So, how exactly have youcontributed to your agency's fight in eliminating these barbarians? I don't see someone like you, being the director which I'm assuming is the highest rank in your group, actively doing anything. I assume you push paper all day long, ordering your henchmen to perform your tasks," Maxon condescendingly says. After being quiet throughout this entire meal, he has the nerve to say such things as if he knows what I've been through.
My temper and anger threaten to retort, and I see James tense up and prepare to respond back, without a doubt with a bite, but I pull him back with a squeeze of the hand.
"On the contrary, Prince Maxon, I wasn't born into my title. I started from the bottom as a recruit just as everyone in the Force. I worked hard to get to where I am. I have sacrificed more than you will ever know to have the honors you are privy to for simply being born. And as far as what I've contributed to my agency, I have fought alongside my comrades. I have watched some killed before my very eyes. Many brave agents have laid down their lives so you can continue to sit in your chair comfortably and eat in peace," I didn't mean to be so forthright with my words, but he always had a knack to bring this side of me.
Why must we always argue with each other? How did we ever manage to fall for one another? All throughout the selection all we did was be angry and be on each other's throat, but his comment now was over the line! To assume that I merely fell into my position is outlandish and frankly, I didn't expect such a comment to come him. I would with his malicious father, but not him. What happened in the last six years that made him so cold, so spiteful?
I glare at him and he shifts his mouth into a thin white line as he scowls at me. The standoff between has caused the air to fill with an uncomfortable silence and tension. It's so distinct it's almost palpable. His actions over the past 24 hours has led me asking why I am even moving heaven and earth to protect him.
I tear my stare away from him to see Kriss shift in her seat in awkwardness. I quietly sigh as I start to feel the familiar dull of a headache. James rubs soothing circles on my hand for he knows the struggle I have put myself into.
Finally, the king breaks the icy tension and says, "Miss Ryan, when you are finished here, I need you to meet me in my office. We have matters to discuss concerning you and your agency."
No doubt he is also going to let me hear his opinions of this awful breakfast debacle. He places his table napkin on the table and gets up to leave. The lovely queen does the same and exit to head into the Women's' Room with Kriss following her, leaving Maxon, James and I on the dinner table.
The bitter prince stands up from his chair but doesn't take his leave. As the staff works on clearing the table, he addresses us.
"Mister James, may I speak Ms. Ryan in private?"
James grips my hand even tighter and looks at me with hesitation and panic so clearly written in his chiseled face. A strand of brown lock falls from his neatly kept temple and he corrects it before returning his gaze back at me.
I told you we shouldn't have come here! He's probable figured out who you are and compromised your identity!
Relax. I highly doubt that. I can handle this. Just do as he says.
Scarlet, this isn't a good idea and you know it. He scolds me with his gray eyes. I see so much concern in his orbs and I knew he had every right to be scolding me for allowing myself to be put in such a compromising situation, but I just can't help myself when it came to Maxon. When it came to him, I lose all sense of control, conceding to the whims and desires of America.
James gives my hand a reassuring grip before letting go and getting up to leave. He bows at the remaining royal before heading for the grand doors. Just before walking out, he gives me one last look to tell me to be careful.
Always, I blink.
As I move my head to concentrate on the only other person in the room, I see him seat down on the chair directly in front of me. He carries an imposing aura, one I would normally associate to the likes of his father, but not him. Where has my lovely prince gone?
As he observes me, I watch his eyes for any sign of detecting my true identity and so far, have come up empty. All I see is pain and anger in them. I would know it from anywhere for it's what my eyes held for many years.
My heart thumps wildly at being so close to him and I yearn to have him touch me and love me once more. I long to hear my name roll off his beautiful lips. At this moment, I struggle to remember who I am. My past and present battling for control and the ache in my head only grows. I hear the loud beating of my heart in my ears and it takes me a second to register that he has spoken.
A/N: I’ve had this published in Wattpad for a while now. I just have been too lazy to publish it here. Sorry. I just got back into being active this week when editing my Masterlist.
Summary: The more time America spent in the palace, the more she can’t control the memories that she’s buried deep within years ago.
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Marlee hugs me for quite some time until it gets a little uncomfortable. I debate whether cutting it short, but I understand the reason why she was hugging me for so long. I missed her, too, but I haven't had this kind of personal interaction in six years and it's my impulse to push away. One cannot afford to be vulnerable in this line of work.
"Um, Marlee, you're crushing me," I lie to get her off me.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, America. I just missed you so much. I don't get why you left or why you lied to everyone saying that you were dead," tears begin to form on the corners of her blue eyes.
"I missed you, too, Marlee, believe me. But please you must promise me you will never call me America again. No one can know who I am. It's safer for you, for everyone and for me. Promise me, Marlee." I ignore her curiosity for now. I simply have too many worries in mind to answer her inquiries about why I left.
"I promise, Amer-, Scarlet. Sorry," she corrects herself and I nod my approval.
"Now, I'm sure the royal family is waiting impatiently for my arrival to breakfast, so I must go. If you wish to know more, you can come by later tonight and I will disclose what I can about what happened in the last six years," I sound so distant and I hate myself for not being able to talk to Marlee like I used to, but this is the way it has to be. I can't allow myself to get close to her, to anyone. I have to remind myself that I've made my choice. I chose this life of solitary, of loneliness, for the happiness of everyone I love and that includes her.
I look at Marlee and she nods before leaving the room. I grab and put on my black leather bomber jacket and tuck my gun in its permanent home in the back waistband of my pants before heading down to the Great Hall. I decide to search for James on my way to inform him of the breach in our security. I find my loyal secretary doing a perimeter check with one of the palace guards and I whistle to catch his attention.
He walks towards me and I drag him to a remote part of the hall without guards or staff to hear our conversation.
"We have a breach in security. Marlee Tames knows my identity. Now before you scold me, I didn't tell her, she just figured it out. She was always the smart, observant one. Find her, instruct her of the proper protocol and measures that must be put in place since she has top secret information. When you're done, report back to me. Can I trust you with this, James?" I ask him.
"Of course, Scar. Why even bother asking? You can trust me with anything, you know that."
"I know. I just needed to hear you say it. Thank you, by the way, for not scolding me about someone recognizing me."
"You're welcome. I figured you're already doing that for me. But I am still strongly suggesting that we leave and let our Fennley team handle this mess. What if more people start recognizing you? What if he recognizes you? What then?" He asks. It's a fair question. I can't have him knowing or figuring out who I am, but I also can't leave without knowing he'll be safe. I can't leave without keeping my personal promise.
"A valid question, but you already know my answer. I am not leaving. Not without ensuring his safety. Especially with our prisoner lurking two stories beneath my feet." I confirm yet again.
He huffs in defeat, "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."
"If something happens to go awry, you can be the first to tell me 'I told you so'. But right now, we should really head to the dining room." With that, I start my path to the eating space with James beside me.
As we reach the door, I take a deep, calming breath to center and ready myself to face my past. To face the person who has haunted my days and nights. There's no turning back, Scarlet, I thought to myself. I release the breath I was holding and begin to reach for the door handle when the guard posted by the grand entrance interferes, "Allow me, miss."
I nod. After six years of opening my own doors, I was taken aback by the formality, but I have to get used to that for this short period of time. He opens the door and the familiarity of the room rushes back to the forefront. Many memories of eating with the royal family and the elite in this very room. Oh, how naïve I was to think that my life was complicated, then. How I'd give anything to be back in those simple times. Times when I could be America again and sing my days away. Sadly, those days are long gone. They must stay gone. For the sake of the one person that sits in this room.
The lavishness and grandeur of the dining room amazes me to this day. It's nothing compared to the massive U-shaped dining table we sat on the very first day of the selection. This dining room is smaller, more informal, intended solely for private dinners between the members of the royal family. When the Selection was narrowed down to the Elite, this was the place we ate. I hear the faint whispers and laughter from distant, buried memories. I feel James' light nudge pulling me out of my recollection.
"Well, well, we were beginning to think you weren't coming to join us. If it were left to me, we would've eaten a few minutes ago, but my lovely wife insisted we wait," the king states in a rude tone.
I learned a long time ago how to not react to childish remarks even if they came from a person with such a high rank in Illéa's hierarchy. America, the old me, would've scowled at that, I'm sure. Instead, I curtsy to the direction of the queen, "Thank you, Queen Amberly." The king notices my ignorance and I am almost positive I will receive the back end of that decision later.
I take my place on one of the chairs on the side of the table facing Princess Kriss. King Clarkson and Queen Amberly sits on opposing sides facing each other on the head of the table with Kriss to the right of the queen and the prince to the king's left.
As the servers begin their task of bringing food, Queen Amberly acknowledges me, "Miss Ryan, please kindly invite your..."
I realize the queen doesn't know my relation to James and I quickly reply, "James."
"Your...James to come and eat with us." I obey and whistle for James, who was just beginning to make his way to the door after making sure I was safe.
He turns around and we do our silent conversation.
Come and sit down, I say.
Is that appropriate? He silently asks.
The queen asks for it.
Are you sure?
Would you just sit the hell down!
Alright, alright!
It's not like the bastard king will bite. At least he won't in front of his wife.
He laughs with his eyes.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," James bows before taking his place beside me on the dining table across from the beloved prince. I glance at Maxon for the briefest of moments before concentrating on the meal set in front of me. Eggs, bacon, toast with a fresh cup of orange juice. It's been more than 3 years since I sat down to have a proper breakfast. Usually my morning routine included me taking my meal to work and getting a head start toward my long day of running a clandestine organization. Also, my work allows me to forget my horrible nights.
I slowly dig into my plate, savoring the quality of food in the palace. Since becoming director, I am blessed to have a decent life. Still, there's still a distinct difference in palace living and the rest of Illéa.
The quiet buzzes of hushed voices fill my ear, but I don't really try to comprehend what they are saying, too focused on my worries. I tear myself away from my internal concerns to see a maid set a plate of strawberry tarts placed before me. Distant memories immediately bombard me. Instinctively, I reach for James' hand underneath the table. He knows every detail of my past, the selection.
He looks into my eyes and know the predicament I am in as he sees the pastries in front of me. He squeezes my hand as I recall one of the earliest memories I have of the Selection.
Our first meal with the handsome, celebrated Prince Maxon. I was contently minding my own business eating delicious strawberry tarts when the precious royal thought it would be funny to single me out.
"Lady America?" I looked at him, shock clearly written all over my face and a mischievous smirk in his as if it was his plan all along to address me just when my mouth was filled with food.
I hurriedly chew and reply, "Yes, Your Majesty?" No doubt my face was as red as my hair from the embarrassment he was so clearly amused by.
"How are you enjoying the food?" His facial expression clearly said that he was enjoying the sight of making me look and act like a fool.
I explained how the food was excellent and my sister, May, would cry if she had these strawberry tarts. And as if he found that information amusing, he beamed with a smile as he continued to make a bet with me. If my sister cried, I made a barter that I would be allowed to wear jeans instead of the stuffy dresses we are mandated to wear. If he won, I would have to go on a date with him.
I was confident I knew my sister well enough to win, so I agreed. As if fate had other plans, I lost.
Looking back on how my life had completely gone off the rails, I wish I could back to the girl who had the audacity to knee the prince in the groin. I wish that my nightmares would cease. I wish I would stop seeing the face of all those I've lost when I closed my eyes. I wish the screams I hear in my head would silence themselves. I wish to not have the scars I carry on my body from the torture I've had to endure from the last six year. Most of all, I wish to be in the place of the woman that sat in front of me. The one who held Maxon's heart in their hands. The one he called his wife, his love, his world.
A/N: I did a thing. I heard this song after playing last chapter, Let it all Go by Rhodes and Birdy … and here we are. So here’s some angsty Sam that no one asked for, lol. Thanks to @dcbbw for prereading!
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