Author's Note: Sorry, it's been a while since an update. This is a really long chapter, lots of Diamond Scenes to include, so hopefully it's worth the wait!

By the next day, I decided to put Tariq, Drake, and the whole weird night out of my mind. Hopefully, forever. There was only one more event to get through before the Coronation, and I was putting all my focus into it. I had to, because this one was special – this was a party at my own adopted family's house.

"I can't wait to see your estate," I told Maxwell eagerly. We were in the limo, headed to Ramsford to prepare for the big event.

"It is grand," Bertrand replied for his brother.

I rolled my eyes. I had had enough of Bertrand for the day, and it wasn't even noon. I turned in my seat a little so I was facing away from Bertrand and toward Maxwell.

"So catch me up," I asked him. "What did I miss while I was off with Liam yesterday?"

"Oh, the usual," Maxwell said dismissively. "Gossip. Drinks. Drama. Someone got hit with a badminton racket. Oh!" He leaned in towards me excitedly. "The real big news was that a reporter managed to sneak onto estate grounds. You hardly ever get someone who can do that."

"Yes, but she was quickly caught and ejected. She should've known better than to come to a private event. Honestly." Bertrand's response was less impressed than Maxwell's. He demanded my attention once more as he stressed yet again the importance of the party we were getting ready to throw.

I was actually looking forward to it. In spite of Bertrand's solemnity, the Beaumont Bash seemed like it was the wildest thing that happened every year, so I was sure we were going to have some fun.

Maxwell interrupted Bertrand's ramblings by pointing out the window. "Look, we're home!" I looked outside and was stunned to see a beautiful villa in the middle of sprawling vineyards.

"Wow. This is some fine real estate," I whistled appreciatively.

Even Bertrand smiled. "It is beautiful in all its splendor."

His good mood didn't last long, though. As we entered the house, he found a note from the caterers he had hired for the party. It seemed that they were backing out. "A paperwork issue," Bertrand explained, although he definitely sounded shady. "Rather than wait for our arrival, they canceled. This is going to be a disaster." He moaned and sank into a nearby arm chair. "The rest of our staff isn't scheduled to arrive until tomorrow, and now we have to clean the house, prepare Lady Riley, and create a gourmet meal for the entire royal court."

My eyes were wide and I looked at Maxwell, who just looked back at me helplessly. I took a deep breath. I felt like this was my time to shine. These noblemen may not have had to deal with this much hard work before, but I was no stranger to the whole too much to do and not enough time to do it in thing. "We can do this," I said firmly. "We'll just roll up our sleeves, and get started. Put on some music, get lost in the beat as we clean...it'll be done in no time."

Maxwell grinned and nodded, and Bertrand looked up at me with something almost like awe. "Yes," he said, standing and smoothing out his blazer. "You're quite right, Lady Riley. Not about the music, of course. But we are Beaumonts. We do not shrink back under pressure. Maxwell, call in every last favor you can. We need extra hands to clean the estate. I'll see what I can do about getting the flowers and furnishings for the ballroom."

"Right!" Maxwell shouted, holding up his phone like a sword.

Bertrand turned to me. "Lady Riley, the kitchen should be fully stocked. We're going to be feeding a lot of mouths tomorrow, so anything you can prepare in advance will be valuable."

I nodded. "I can definitely do that."

"Maxwell will help you when he can."

"Team...break!" Maxwell chanted, and darted into the next room to start his phone calls.

Bertrand showed me to the kitchen and left me to start his own jobs. I looked around the huge, restaurant-quality kitchen with wonder. Everything was all stainless steel and marble. I looked in the pantry, which was the size of a walk-in closet, at least. "Caviar...squid ink...truffles..." I murmured to myself as I checked what was in stock. "Where's the normal food?" I wasn't exactly a master chef, but I at least could have made some decent jalapeno poppers. But what was I going to do with this? Thankfully, Maxwell sauntered in looking cool and sure of himself.

"Calls have been made," he told me. "So now I can concentrate on food. Any culinary ideas?"

I looked at him with blank eyes. "I have no idea what to do with any of this fancy...stuff."

"The fancier the stuff, the less you have to do!" He explained, grabbing some caviar and leading me to a counter to work. "Just dump it on a plate and call it deconstructed."

I nodded slowly. "You might just be a genius, Maxwell."

"Thank you, thank you. I'm glad someone recognizes my brilliance. Now, I'll find something to go with this caviar. You go find a bunch of fancy serving spoons."

I searched the drawers until I came up with as many spoons as I could carry, then plopped them on the counter next to where Maxwell was working. "Hey," I said. "I'm sorry the helpers bailed. First at the Regatta, and now this. I just can't believe it happened again."

Maxwell frowned. "Yeah, me either. Bertrand said he had everything handled and not to ask any questions...but I'm sure this is somehow my fault."

I rested my head on his shoulder for a second before looking at him and shaking it fiercely. "You shouldn't take the blame for everything. Bertrand is at least as much to blame, if not more so, than you."

"He knows that. He's even harder on himself than he is on me."

"That's no excuse for him to berate you. You should stand up to him."

"It's not that simple." Maxwell sighed, then turned away, focusing on the ingredients spread out before him. "Look, I appreciate your concern over my relationship with Bertrand. But it's nothing I can't handle."

"Okay..." I said. "But I'm here if you ever need to talk."

"Thanks. But we should focus on these appetizers." His trademark smile broke through the frown, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "We've got the party of the year to prepare for."

"Alright, so what are we doing?"

"Here," he said, showing me his plan. "Put a little caviar on a spoon, then a sprig of garnish, and finish with a dash of paprika."

"Does paprika go with caviar?"

"It'll be a novelty."

"Okay, then. Let's do it!"

We worked in silence for a few seconds, assembling spoon after spoon of Paprika Caviar. "Hey," I said after a while. "Where are these friends you called?"

Maxwell frowned a little. "Oh, you know. All of them said they were busy, or they couldn't make it, or that something came up. I couldn't even get a hold of Tariq. Not that he'd even know which end of a broom to hold."

I winced a little at the name, but Maxwell didn't seem to notice. "I'm sorry," I said.

"Don't worry, we can do it together! Probably."

"Hey, teamwork makes the dreamwork!"

"Ooh, that should be our new house motto!"

"What's your house motto right now?"

"Uh, I think something about vendettas, and giant squid?"

"Squid?" I laughed.

"We used to be a sea-faring people."

I laughed some more, shaking my head, and just then, we both spun around to the sound of the kitchen door opening.

"Hello? Anyone in here?" It was Drake!

"Drake! Drake! Drake! You came!" Maxwell abandoned our workstation and ran to Drake, wrapping him in a big bear hug, which Drake quickly pushed away.

"Yeah, yeah. Calm down. It's not that big of a deal."

"Yes it is! We are friends!"

"You promised me whiskey."

"Friendship whiskey!"

As I watched the exchange with a bemused expression, I couldn't help but think of the cartoon Spongebob Squarepants. Maxwell was Spongebob, and Drake was the grumpy neighbor, Squidward. The thought made me laugh out loud, and both men turned to me with confused expressions. I just shook my head. "Drake, you made it."

"Yeah, yeah, behold your knight in shining armor. So, I'm here now. What needs to be done?"

"Riley and I are plating some fancy appetizers. Come join us." Maxwell led Drake over and we created an assembly line, churning out caviar bites until all the serving spoons were gone.

"These turned out really well, I think," Maxwell decided, looking over the rows of appetizers. "But we need a good name for them. Maybe 'Jewels of the Sea' or something like that."

"The Charade of the Season?" I offered, which made Drake chuckle.

"Oh, snarky," Maxwell said. "I like it. Alright, that should be enough to get us started. Now then, on to the main course!"

"Do you even know how to cook from scratch?" Drake asked him.

"Well..." before he could finish, Maxwell's phone vibrated with a text message. "Oh thank God. Bertrand found another company to handle the main courses. Let me tell you, nobody would've want the science experiments I was about to produce."

"Dodged a bullet there," Drake agreed.

"What's next on the Panic Mode check list?" I asked.

"I should stay here and clean the kitchen," Maxwell said, "But Bertrand might need help in the main hall. Last I saw him, he was looking for cleaning supplies."

"Oh boy," I groaned, imagining Bertrand mixing Chlorine and Ammonia in an ill-fated attempt to improve efficiency. I left the two boys in the kitchen and darted to the main hall, where Bertrand was on his hands and knees scrubbing the floors. I paused for a moment to consider the scene. Bertrand got on my nerves sometimes – okay, almost all the time – but I had a lot of empathy for him in that moment. He was trying his best to maintain his family's legacy, and clearly struggling to do so. He was thrown into these situations for which he was never prepared, but he was still willing to get his hands dirty, if it was for the sake of the family. It was really sweet.

"Bertrand?" I said at last, getting his attention.

"What?"

"I was sent to help. So...if you need anything…let me know?"

"It's fine. I have it under control." He didn't look at me, just continued mechanically scrubbing the floors.

I knelt by him and took his brush. "Let me help you, please."

He must have heard the sincerity in my voice, because he didn't protest. His face was surprised for a minute before it resolved into his usual stoic demeanor. "If you're going to insist," he said, "I suppose it couldn't hurt. Remember to get in between the tiles." He took a second brush from the bucket and started scrubbing again while I worked next to him. After about an hour, we were finished with the main hall. Bertrand stood over me, inspecting my work. "Not bad. I suppose I owe you...my thanks." It was like pulling teeth, but I was still impressed by his sincerity.

"Glad I could help," I said, smiling as I stood and dusted myself off.

"Now, we should find Maxwell before he's left unattended for too long."

Before we could move, Maxwell emerged from the kitchen, whistling softly to himself. "Whew," he said when he saw us. "That was quite the ordeal. I hope it's at least a year before I ever have to clean another kitchen again. Luckily with Drake, it went faster than I thought."

"Speak of the devil," was all Bertrand said.

"What's next?" I asked.

"We need to do a thorough dusting. Maxwell, you get started on that. Just be careful with the displays." He motioned up the stairs, where a set of old weapons hung. He turned to me next. "Lady Riley, your help was appreciated, but I can finish the floors myself. Maxwell will need you more. This house needs to be in top condition before guests arrive."

"What's with the weapons?" I asked Maxwell as we dusted.

"They're a selection from the Beaumont armory. They're important to the history of the family and Cordonia. But," he turned to me with a devilish smile. "The best thing about them is that they act as a variety of exciting bottle openers!"

"What exactly is going to happen at this party? Because it sounds like blood will be spilled."

"Nothing is more important than safety at House Beaumont," Maxwell told me. I looked at him skeptically. "Well, having fun is first," he corrected. "Second is keeping Bertrand from getting mad. Then...probably something about dancing. But right after that? Definitely safety." He got another text just then. "Bertrand says he and Drake are working in the ballroom. We'd better go see if they need help."

We made our way to the ballroom, where Drake and Bertrand were arranging centerpieces and setting the tables. I marveled at the grandeur, even though it wasn't finished. "It's looking great!" I said loudly, so that Bertrand could hear me across the large room.

"Thank you," he replied. "Maxwell, these tables in the back corner are ready for napkins. Can you help?"

"On it!" Maxwell jogged to the tables and started setting up.

"Lady Riley, if you could assist Drake?"

I imitated Maxwell's enthusiasm. "On it!" I approached Drake near the front, where he was arranging flowers in a vase. "Why Drake," I said coyly, "I never knew you had such flair with peonies."

"The things I do for you people," he grumbled, not looking at me.

I picked up a vase and some flowers, starting my own arrangement. After a brief moment, Drake stepped closer to me. His voice was low. "Anything about any of this seem off to you?"

I stifled a sigh; I was wondering if Drake would question this strange situation. I only knew a little about the Beaumont's financial situation, but I figured that the 'logistical issue' Bertrand had with the party planners was probably to do with money. "What do you mean?" I asked Drake, trying to sound innocent.

He nodded towards the other side of the room, where Bertrand and Maxwell were arguing in hushed tones. "Doesn't it seem like something weird is going on?"

"That just seems like Bertrand being Bertrand. Being grumpy and yelling at Maxwell is kind of his brand."

"Yeah, but I heard them earlier. Sounds like money was missing from the account, which is why the party planners pulled out. Something odd is going on here. And I intend to find out what it is." His face was steely, but softened a little as he spoke next. "Besides, it sounds like Maxwell might be in over his head this time. I think he really needs my help. But knowing him, he'd never ask."

I thought about our earlier conversation, and nodded. "You might be right. I didn't realize you and Maxwell were that close, though."

"After all the time I've spent with him the past few weeks, I'm starting to find him less annoying."

"High praise from Drake Walker."

"Besides, we scrubbed the kitchen cabinets together. I think I'm invested now."

"You're a good friend, Drake."

Just then, Maxwell and Bertrand left the ballroom, and Drake, without a word to me, abandoned the table and walked through a door on the opposite side of the ballroom. I looked around for a minute, trying to figure out what to do, and decided to follow Drake. Whatever he was investigating, I felt like I should be there, if only for the sake of damage control.

I followed him into a stately-looking office. "How'd you know this was here?" I whispered. He must not have realized I was there, because he jumped back when he heard my voice.

"Harkness!" he shouted, the name sounding like a curse. He shook it off and answered in a hushed voice. "I used to come to this house a lot back in the day. We ran in the same circles, being friends with Liam and all. My sister, Savannah, used to think the Beaumont brothers were the epitome of courtly life. She practically worshiped them."

"And you didn't."

"I found them to be more of an acquired taste."

"Meaning they both annoyed the hell out of you."

"Pretty much. Whenever I got tired of their antics, I'd sneak off and come here to their study."

"So you've always been the life of the party."

"Ha. Ha." He said the syllables rather than actually laughing. "Whenever Savannah found me here, she would try to get me to join in on the fun." He paused, frowning. "I don't even know where she is now."

"She just left without telling you anything?" He nodded. "And you don't have any way of finding her?"

"She stopped answering my calls and deleted all of her social media. Wherever she is...all I know is that she doesn't want to be found. Not even by me." His frown turned into a deep scowl. "And you know what? I don't blame her. I failed her. I don't even know how, but I know that I failed her. Something bad happened to her to make her leave court the way she did, and I wasn't there to stop it."

"You seem like a wonderful big brother. I'm sure if you could have done anything to protect her, you would have."

"I've spent hours trying to figure out what I could have done."

He looked so sad, and vulnerable...kind of like he had the night before, when I was icing his bruises. There was a long pause, during which Drake started snooping through the study's desk. I just stood there, thinking. "Drake..." he looked up at the sound of my voice. "About last night..."

He frowned sadly. "Hell, Harkness, what is there to say?"

"I just...don't you think we should talk about it?"

"I wish I'd never said anything. The truth is that my best friend is head over heels for you. So it doesn't really matter how I feel. Because that's where it has to end. Liam is the only one who's ever looked out for me. The only one who gave a damn about me after my dad...after he was gone. The rest of the court was ready to cast us out, never mind that he died protecting the royal family."

That was all news to me, and distracted me from the real point of the conversation. "I'm sorry. That's terrible."

"I didn't care much, but my mom and Savannah...it would've devastated them. Liam made sure we had a place at the palace as long as we wanted one. I could never betray him by falling for his girl."

I could feel tears in my eyes. I loved Liam, and I knew he loved me. But Drake was my best friend here; the one person I could rely on for absolutely anything at any time of day or night. Hell, he had saved me from Tariq's advances not 24 hours ago. I hated that I was making him feel so...worthless.

"I'm so sorry, Drake," I whispered, not because I was afraid of being heard, but because that's all I could do.

He shook his head, looking down at the desk. "You've done nothing wrong, Harkness. I shouldn't have said anything at all last night, so let's just pretend..." he trailed off, his eyes catching an envelope on the desk. He pulled it out and peered inside. "Woah."

"What?"

He showed me. "If I'm not mistaken, this is a fat envelope full of cash."

"That's what it looks like to me," I agreed. I wiped a stray tear from my eye, my mind clearer now that we were focused on something less emotional. "But why is it here?"

"There's an address on it. Some place in France."

"You think this is the missing money Bertrand was talking about?"

"It has to be!"

"Should we...take it to Bertrand?"

"That seems like the responsible thing to do."

I sent a text to Bertrand, and in a few seconds, he was in the study with us. We showed him the cash, and he gaped like a fish. "Our missing funds? How did you even?"

"We were...cleaning up in here, and Drake noticed it on the desk."

"Yes, yes, of course that's where it was. Silly me. I must have misplaced it." He took the envelope and stuffed it into a pocket. "Unfortunately, it's too late to rehire the cleaning crew, so we'd better finish the last of the arrangements. Back to work!" He strode from the room, and Drake looked at me questioningly.

"That was weird," he said.

"Something's definitely off," I agreed.

"Well, keep an eye out, but try not to be too obvious about it."

I nodded, and we headed back to the ballroom to finish our floral arrangements. It was about six o'clock that evening when we all finally reconvened in the main hall, the work over at last. I sank onto a step dramatically. "I'm exhausted!" I cried.

"But we did it!" Maxwell said, and I wondered if he took some sort of stimulant to keep so high-energy all the time. I mean, I didn't actually think he was the sort of person to do drugs, but it was the only thing that made sense to me. No one could be that perky all the time.

"The house is looking acceptable," Bertrand said with a nod.

"Wow," I droned. "Does something actually meet your standards?"

"Do I need to call a doctor?" Maxwell asked.

"No," Bertrand snapped. Then, with a very slight smile, he continued, "It's only that tomorrow will be something special. I can feel it." He looked at me, and once again, I felt how heavily his hopes rested on Liam proposing to me in a few days' time.

As I was searching for some kind of response, there was a knock on the front doors. Bertrand answered it, and Prince Liam entered. Bertrand bowed low. "Your Highness! You're early!" The panic was evident in his voice. He cleared his throat and began again, more coolly this time. "I mean, what a pleasant surprise."

"I hope I'm not disturbing anything," Liam said.

"Of course not. I hope you find everything in order."

"As grand as I remember it," Liam assured him with a smile.

"Please come in. My brother and I will check that your room accommodations are in order. In the meantime, I'm sure Lady Riley here will entertain you."

"I'm sure she will," Liam agreed, turning his smile on me and making me blush a little.

Drake quickly excused himself, and Maxwell and Bertrand hurried off to the guest rooms, leaving Liam and I alone in the grand hall.

"You're a delightful surprise," I said. I knew I was looking disheveled from cleaning, but Liam was looking at me like I was the most beautiful sight in the world.

"You're assuming I'm here to see you, hmm?" He teased.

"You'd better be."

He laughed. "What gave it away?"

I smoothed my hair as I stepped towards him. "You have my name written all over your lips."

"There's no hiding from you, is there?"

"Not a chance."

He pulled me towards him. "I arrived early because I knew you'd be here, and I wanted to see you before the festivities began. I know all of this must seem strange to you. Jet-setting around Cordonia, attending grand formal events. I imagine it's much different from 'dating' as you usually know it."

"You could say that, yeah."

"I appreciate that you've thrown yourself into courtly life with such enthusiasm, but I wanted to meet you halfway, so to speak."

"Oh?"

"I also have this idea...it's maybe a little silly, but..." he stepped back, but kept a hold of my hand, wrapping it in both of his and looking at me intently. "Will you go on a date with me?"

I raised an eyebrow. "A date?"

"My first true date," he said with a smile. "I want it to be with you."

"We're on an estate surrounded by acres of vineyards...where would we go? What would we do?"

"Leave that to me. I promise you, it'll be a proper first date. Tonight, I just want to be Riley and Liam, two normal people going on a normal date. What do you say? I know it's a bit last-minute."

I was exhausted from cleaning all day, but when I looked at that face, my aching muscles faded into background noise. "It would be my honor," I said with a smile. "I think I can do 'ordinary' for an evening."

"You can be normal, but I don't think you can ever be anything less than extraordinary."

I shook my head. "You're really pulling out all the stops, aren't you?"

"For you? Definitely. If you think about it, it's our first real date. I mean, we've been spending time together, but it's just been a few minutes here and there."

"I'll be sure to break out the awkward first-date icebreaker questions."

"Sounds perfect. I need to make a couple arrangements, but I'll meet you at your room in, say an hour?"

I nodded and left him at the bottom of the stairs as I ran to my room to get ready. Not knowing what was on the agenda, I spent most of the next hour debating what to wear. I wished Hana were there to guide me; she was always my fashion guru when I needed help. I thought about texting her, but didn't want to spread the news of this date, at least not just yet. Finally, I decided to wear a casual outfit that was very similar to what I wore the night Liam and I first me. I found some black pants and ankle boots, put on a dark red blouse, and pulled my leather jacket over it. I did my hair in a low-slung side-bun, letting a few curls fall loose around my face. Just as I was finishing my makeup, there was a knock at the door.

I opened it to see Liam standing, dressed in a nice shirt and blazer, with one hand behind his back. "Riley," he said, his face melting into a smile as he saw me.

"Your Highness," I said with a curtsy.

"Please. Just Liam." He pulled his hand from behind his back and offered me a bouquet of roses. "These are for you."

I cradled the bouquet, inhaling the soft scent and exhaling with a sigh.

"Are they..." he said, seeming more unsure than usual. "Were they the right thing to get for a first date?"

"Liam, they're amazing. Thank you."

"I'm so glad you like them."

I found a vase and filled it with water, dropping the bouquet in before taking Liam's arm and leaving for our date. He led me down the hallway, up the grand staircase, and down another long hallway towards the east wing. "So, are you going to spill about what we're doing tonight?" I asked. "I hope I'm dressed appropriately."

"You look perfect," he assured me. "You remind me of the night we met." He cleared his throat before continuing. "I did some research on traditional first dates."

I giggled. "You researched dates? That's adorable."

He looked a little embarrassed. "Hey, I wanted tonight to be perfect."

"And what did your research tell you?"

"That a traditional first date is dinner, then a movie. But, there aren't any local theaters secure enough to be cleared on such short notice, so we're going to be focusing on the dinner part."

I nodded. "Sounds good, I'm starving."

"This way," he led me through a door at the end of a hallway, and we entered a rustic-looking game room. A fireplace crackled with warmth. Its light sparkled gold against the crystal and silverware on a table set up in the middle of the room.

"Aw, this is lovely!"

"Dinner for two at the finest 'restaurant' I could find. Or, recreate."

Liam held out my chair for me, waiting until I took my seat before sitting across from me. As soon as we were seated, Maxwell poked his head into the room. "Ready?" he asked, and Liam nodded. Maxwell entered fully, pulling a serving tray with him. "Diners, welcome to Chateau Beaumont!"

"I've heard good things about this place on Yelp," I joked as Maxwell popped open a bottle of sparkling wine and poured two glasses for us.

"Hey, isn't this funny, Riley?" Maxwell said, setting a glass in front of me. "When we first met, you were our waitress, now I'm your waiter." I gave him a little chuckle, and he continued. "I hope I can be half as professional as you were. Now." He presented two plates with a flourish. "For your dinner, the finest bubbly Chateau Beaumont can offer, and a simple homemade tomato pasta. As requested, Liam. Enjoy." He bowed and scurried out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Liam lifted his glass to me. "What shall we toast to?"

"To...first dates," I said, lifting my glass and clinking it with Liams. "This one's promising to be one of the best."

I took a drink, then started in on the pasta. All that work earlier in the day had me absolutely starving. If this were a real first date, I would have been too anxious to eat, so I was glad I was comfortable enough around Liam to enjoy the food. "This is delicious," I said, swirling another scoop of pasta onto my fork.

"I'm glad you like it. I wasn't sure what to request, so I chose this. It's a simple dish, but it make me feel nostalgic. I used to eat this a lot when I was a kid."

"It's great. No need to get too fancy on the first date. We can just take it slow and get to know each other."

"Of course. Now, I believe I was promised some awkward icebreaker questions..."

"Yes, of course. Let's see..." I thought for a minute, trying to come up with something light and fun. "If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?"

Liam laughed. "I feel like I'm in a New York bar already."

"Good, but you're not off the hook. You still need to answer."

"One thing, huh? If I had to pick, I'd say...vanilla milkshakes."

"Vanilla?" I scoffed.

"Hey, don't underestimate vanilla. It's a complex flavor."

"If you say so."

"Are all first-date questions like this? Fun, but a little silly?"

I shrugged. "More or less. I can't believe you've never been on a real date before."

"Well, as you know, life as part of the royal family can have its limitations, since I have to consider things like schedules and security. I've been introduced to women I've been interested in, of course. But our time together was spent at courtly functions, not on 'dates' in a traditional sense."

"Have you ever been serious about anyone before?" I asked it without thinking, glad after the fact that this wasn't a real first date, because that question would have been way to deep.

"Once, I thought I might have been. But...the spark wasn't there." I nodded, and Liam reached out to take my hand in his, twining our fingers together. "Honestly, Riley, before I met you, I didn't even know what I was missing with anyone else."

"Liam," I said in what was almost a sigh. He always turned me to mush.

He pulled his hand back slowly, and we started eating again. "What about you?" He asked. "Are there any former lovers I need to worry about?"

I snorted. "Um...definitely not." He looked at me like he couldn't quite believe me. "I've dated a little, but I'm picky about who I spend time with. I've always been so focused on my goals in life, I knew it would take someone pretty spectacular to distract me from them."

"When we first met, you told me you wanted to see the world."

I nodded, amazed that he remembered. "I was always working to save money, so I didn't leave much time for a social life. But, I can't say I regret my choices, seeing as they led me here, to you."

He smiled, and we carried on our conversation, talking about mostly little nothings for hours, long after the food and wine was gone and the fire was beginning to die out. Towards the end of the evening, Liam started getting a little more serious, a little more Prince-Liam-like. Which, considering he was talking about how he cared about me and thought I would be a good Queen, I can't say I minded.

"This got a little...romantic for a first date," I said as we stood from the table at long last.

"Are you telling me that guys don't lavish you with praise and adoration on all your first dates?"

"Not exactly."

"What a pity for those fools, then."

He walked me back to my room, and we stood outside my door. I leaned against the door frame, looking up at Liam's beautiful features.

"Thanks for coming out tonight, Riley. I had a great time."

"Yeah, dinner was wonderful."

Liam's eyes glinted with humor. "Does this mean a second date is in the cards?"

"Well," I said, drawing out the word. "If you want it to be like a real first date, this is probably where you'd say that you'll text me and then wait a week to actually do it."

"I could never wait that long."

"Me neither."

He stepped closer to me, leaning in but not quite pressing his lips to mine. I pulled him in the rest of the way, and we sunk into a long, slow good-night kiss. I pulled him close so our bodies were flush against each other, and he pressed us back so I was leaning against the door. "Somehow kissing you once never feels like enough," he said breathlessly as we pulled our lips apart. He cupped my face with one hand, running his thumb gently across my cheek.

"No one told you to stop."

He let out a groan, and kissed me again. He lay kisses against my neck while his hands weaved through my hair. I gripped his back tightly with one hand and his neck with my other, panting as he lavished me with affection.

"Riley," he moaned, his breath hot against my skin.

"Liam," I breathed. I tugged at his shirt, pulling it up enough to run my hands over his bare chest and around him, pulling him closer. All of a sudden, we heard footsteps down the hall, and Liam dropped me, stepping back so that there was at least a foot of air between us. We breathed hard, listening for more footsteps, but no one appeared.

Liam looked ruefully at me. "That was close."

I nodded with a smile. "Yeah. But hey, being caught in a covert make-out sesh is a classic first-date trope."

He grinned. "Check that one off the list, then." He sighed. "I should really go, though. It's late, and we have a long night tomorrow." He took one hand and lifted it to his lips, gently kissing it. "Good night, Riley."

"Good night, Liam."