I was on my way to the boutique the next afternoon when I ran into Maxwell and Drake, who had apparently just been there. Maxwell proudly showed me the new suit he had bought for Drake, and Drake ran his hand through his hair and wouldn't meet my eyes as I told him how nice he looked. "Yeah, yeah, thanks for the suit," he grunted at Maxwell.

"Only the best for my good buddy, Drake," Maxwell said, emphasizing the word buddy. His face was uncharacteristically serious as he asked, "We're still buddies, right?"

"Don't push it," was all Drake would reply.

"So," I said, hoping to pull Maxwell out of the awkward pit he was digging. "Is that the plan for tonight? Dazzle and distract everyone with Drake's new suit?"

Drake gave me a pointed look and a sarcastic, "Ha ha." Then he shook his head and continued, "Actually, Maxwell will create a distraction for us while we confront Bastien."

Maxwell grinned. "Easy. Distraction is my middle name." He looked between me and Drake, "So...are we ready to go?"

"Wait a second," Drake said, putting a hand up. If I've got to get dressed up, shouldn't Harkness have to put on something frilly or sparkly?"

I rolled my eyes. "I was about to, before you two showed up." I motioned to the boutique. Drake opted to wait outside, but Maxwell joined me to help me pick something out. He started looking through the racks while I watched him carefully.

"Are you gay, Maxwell?" I asked suddenly. He looked at me with a confused expression. "Sorry," I said, "It's none of my business. I just...I'm not used to straight guys who are so into fashion. And so good at it," I added as I saw the dress he had picked out. I grabbed it and smiled as I darted into the dressing room.

"It's okay," he said through the closed door. "I think fashion's just part of being in the court; appearances are everything, you know?" I stepped out of the changing room just then, and he whistled. "I am definitely not gay, because damn do you look good in that dress." He cleared his throat. "I mean, you look lovely, Lady Riley. And you'll fit in perfectly with the bachelor party, because it's in this classy speakeasy."

I swatted Maxwell on the shoulder, but smiled at his compliment. I took one last look at myself in the mirror, twirling slowly to see myself from all angles. It was a slinky, short black dress covered in sequins. It was strapless, and cut very low, but there was a panel of sheer black tulle that kept me from feeling completely exposed. "Not too much?" I asked, and Maxwell assured me it was perfect and insisted on paying for it.

When we re-joined Drake, I stifled a smile as I watched his jaw go slack. His eyes roved up and down my figure as he drank in the sight of me. Finally, he pulled it together and said in his usually grumpy Drake tone, "Isn't that a little revealing?"

"Riley's totally pulling it off," Maxwell said with a wave of his hand, dismissing Drake's concerns as he led them towards the limo. I had to stop off at my room for some jewelry and stilettos to go with my new dress, but soon enough, we were on our way. I touched up my makeup as we drove. Of course, I was only going to this party on business, but with Maxwell and Drake's reaction to my dress, I had to make sure I was looking flawless for Liam.

There was a guard outside the fenced compound where the speakeasy was. "Be cool," Drake warned as we approached the roadblock.

Maxwell threw his feet up on the minibar, resting his hands behind his head. "I never stop being cool," he said, which made me snort.

Drake rolled down the window and handed his invitation to the guard. The burly man outside looked from the invite to Drake, then over to Maxwell, and finally settled on me. His face was stern and accusing. My eyes grew wide for a second, but I recovered quickly and said, "I'm here with House Beaumont."

Maxwell followed my lead, breaking his Cool Guy pose to lean over and tussle my hair. "That's right," he said, "She's just one of the guys!" He gave me a punch on the arm for good measure, and I glared at him.

"Right," I said unenthusiastically. As we were waved in, I fixed my hair again, then sat nervously tapping my foot while I waited for the limo to park. Once we did, Maxwell decided he should go in first. Which I guess made a kind of sense, since we didn't want to cause a commotion. But I was still drumming my fingers against the door handle as I waited for my turn.

"That guy," Drake said with a shake of his head. He was watching as Maxwell did a bad secret agent impression, looking left and right and then somersaulting across the parking lot as he headed towards the speakeasy.

"Yeah," I said, following his gaze. "He's something else...Are you and Maxwell still getting along?" After the whole Savannah thing yesterday, I was surprised Drake was still willing to share a ride with Maxwell, let alone include him in our plans.

Drake sighed heavily. "Mostly." I gave him a questioning stare, so he continued. "I know he was trying to protect Savannah. I know. But, it makes me sick to think about how every day, he knew...he kept this from me...and he still acted like we were buddies." He shook his head, clearly not wanting to discuss this further. "Anyway, I'll get over it. We've got more important things to do." He checked his watch and decided it was time for us to head inside.

Inside, the speakeasy was like a rich, stately gentlemen's club...dark mahogany furnishings, leather armchairs, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves with really boring-looking books about estate law. The smell of cigar smoke was heavy in the air, and a massive bar along the back wall displayed more bottles of dark alcohol than I ever knew existed.

"Wow," Drake said, his voice a near-whisper as he took in the room.

Yep, I thought, This is the Drakiest place imaginable. If you get rid of the noblemen. "You can join the party if you want," I said, elbowing Drake a little. "I can take it from here."

For a second, I thought he might take me up on the offer, but then he shook his head as if coming out of a trance. "No, helping you is more important than some party." His eyes trailed to the bar. "But...wouldn't it help us blend in if we had a couple of glasses of whiskey?"

I laughed and nodded towards the bar, saying "Go on then." I swear Drake practically skipped towards it. I looked around nervously, trying to pick out a corner where I could survey things without being noticed. Before I could move, though, I saw Liam approaching, a smile forming as he recognized me.

"I don't recall seeing you on the guest list," he said as soon as he was near enough for conversation. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, though."

"Oh?"

"I've learned to never doubt what you're capable of."

"That's very wise of you," I said with a grin. "I swear I'm not intentionally crashing all of your bachelor parties, though. I'm here on business."

"Oh! I hope I haven't interrupted anything."

I shook my head. "No, not at all. Other than me looking for someplace I won't be noticed."

Liam looked at me appraisingly, his eyes smoldering as they wandered down the length of my body. "Looking that gorgeous, how could you possibly go unnoticed?"

I blushed and looked down, hiding my smile with one hand. "Maxwell somehow convinced me this get-up would help me blend in to the speakeasy vibe."

"Perhaps you need a cigar and whiskey?" Liam said with a grin. As if on cue, Drake returned just then with our drinks.

"Drake's got me covered there," I said, accepting the glass and raising it in a silent toast before taking a sip. I coughed, just managing to choke down that one sip, and then poured the rest of it into Drake's glass. "That tastes like a forest fire," I said once I could take a proper breath.

"Settle down there, Harkness," Drake said, "Do you want the whole room staring at you?"

Liam drew me closer to him. "I'd better step away, I'm not exactly the person you want next to you when you're trying to avoid attention." He kissed my hand gently and then disappeared into the party.

Still smiling, I turned back to Drake. His serious expression softened my smile, but did nothing to spoil my sudden good mood. "It's time," was all Drake said. I followed his gaze, and Maxwell was stepping into the center of the room, glass held high.

"Attention, attention," he said loudly. "Ladies and gentlemen. Er, except that there are no ladies here. Nope. None at all. I would like to propose a toast to our wonderful King."

As Maxwell spoke, all eyes were on him. Drake nudged me and I followed him along the back wall. I still hadn't seen Bastien. We were skirting the edges of the room, looking everywhere for the familiar face, when suddenly, we were pulled aside by a strong arm. The very strong arm we were looking for, as it turned out.

"Bastien!" I said, a half-yelp, as Bastien led Drake and I into a quiet room.

"Drake," Bastien said, ignoring me. "I see you've brought a security breach with you. I know you two are close, but I'm afraid Lady Riley will have to leave."

"We need to talk to you," I said, stepping forwards, irritated at being talked about as if I were invisible.

"I'm afraid it's leave or I'll escort you out. Talking isn't an option."

"No, we need to talk to you," Drake said, as if his emphasis would get through to Bastien where mine had failed.

"Drake, I'll escort you out, too, if I have to."

I narrowed my eyes. Even if he was supposedly so important to both Drake and Liam, I was really not a fan of Bastien at the moment. "Bastien, we're conducting an investigation," I said, pouring as much bravado as I could muster into the words.

"I've heard a few things from Drake," he replied, not looking at me, "but understand that I can't permit Riley on the premises. The bachelor party has rules."

"I don't think you get it," I said. "We're investigating you."

That seemed to catch his attention. "I'm sorry, what?"

"We know you were the one who paid Penelope to sabotage Riley," Drake said, voice low and angry. "I bet you were behind Olivia leaving court, too."

Bastien hesitated; just for a second, but it was enough to confirm that we were right. Instead of denying it, he simply said, "This isn't the time or place for games."

"Penelope confessed. There's no reason to play dumb."

"I'm a servant of the crown. Why would I care who Liam chooses?"

"That's what we want to know," I said, stepping between Bastien and Drake. They were circling each other like two wolves, battling for dominance.

"Drake, you don't want to do this," Bastien said. Apparently, I was invisible again.

Drake's face was suddenly so, so sad. "Please," he said, "Help us out here, Bastien. I know...I know you're a good guy. You wouldn't..."

"Damn it Drake, I can't!" Bastien turned away as he shouted so loudly, I wondered if the party guests could hear.

I tugged on Bastien's arm, making him face me. I stood up as high as I possibly could and put my shoulders back. "Tell me the truth!" I shouted, hoping I was more intimidating than I felt.

Bastien just frowned and placed a hand gently on my arm. "I'm sorry, Lady Riley," he said. "I truly am, but it's time to go." Bastien started leading me back to the main room, but Drake pulled him back.

"Fine," Drake spat. "We'll leave. But take your hands off of her."

Bastien did, and motioned for Drake and I to walk ahead of him as we made our way to the speakeasy entrance.

Quietly, so quietly I almost didn't hear, Bastien apologized to Drake as we walked. "Drake...I'm sorry. I didn't want...this wasn't personal. I swear."

"It feels pretty damn personal from where I'm standing," Drake growled.

We were near the front entrance now, but we all stopped as we heard a familiar, indignant voice behind us. "I step out for ten minutes and come back to chaos. What is the meaning of this?" It was Bertrand, stomping up to us, demanding an explanation for my presence. This interruption was not one of Bertrand's better ideas, because as soon as Drake saw Bertrand, he just about lost his mind.

"You," Drake spat, ignoring Bastien as he marched up to Bertrand. "I found my sister."

Bertrand looked shocked. "Lady Savannah?" He cleared his throat, assuming a placid demeanor. "That's splendid news. She is well, yes?"

"Like you'd care."

"We all do. Her disappearance was quite a mystery."

"She told me everything that happened between you two."

Bertrand just gaped. Drake started screaming. "She was in love with you! How could you let her leave with her heart broken?"

"I tried to reach her," Bertrand said quietly, "But she disappeared from everyone. Including me."

"Not everyone. Maxwell knew."

"He...what?" Bertrand spun around, honing in on his brother, who was trying to slink off toward an empty booth. Seeing his brother's gaze, Maxwell drew cautiously towards us. Bertrand scowled deeply. "Maxwell Percival Beaumont. Tell me this man is lying."

It was Maxwell's turn to gape, and Drake stepped in with some more venomous words. "Maxwell actually had the heart to support her, which is more than you ever did."

"I...I didn't know she was in distress. What happened?"

"I don't know, maybe she needed help raising your kid?!" At Drake's last words, the entire party was officially circled around our little group, drinking in every last drop of drama.

"A...a child?" Bertrand sputtered. "When did...Savannah...was pregnant? I didn't know. You have to believe me. I didn't know."

"Savannah told me you gave her a nice long speech about how you two could never be together."

"You don't understand...she...she misunderstood."

"Don't give me that bullshit!" Drake lunged forward, grabbing Bertrand by the collar.

"Unhand me!" Bertrand ordered.

"You broke my sister's heart!" Drake was practically rabid. "You nobles think you can just play with us commoners and throw us away when you're done. Well, this time you're going to have to answer for it!" He clenched his hand in white-knuckled fury, cocking his fist back.

"Stop!" Maxwell said, jumping in front of his brother, forcing Drake to release his hold on the man.

"Out of the way," Drake spat through gritted teeth.

This whole time, I was watching events unfold with equal parts shock and fright. I had never seen this side of Drake, and his anger was terrifying. I was paralyzed. Until Maxwell spoke up, and somehow his action helped me remember that I could move and speak, too. The only problem was, I didn't know what to do or say to make this situation better. Finally, knowing I had to do something before Drake totally lost it, I shrieked. "DRAKE, STOP! PLEASE!"

My voice seemed to reach him, because Drake turned to look at me. Well, everyone turned to look at me. Then, Bastien stepped in between Drake and Maxwell, pushing Drake back firmly.

"That's enough," he said. "All of you. Out."

Bastien escorted, not just me and Drake, but also Maxwell and Bertrand, outside with a glare. Maxwell and Bertrand sheepishly headed off alone, and Drake and I returned to the limo. Drake didn't speak until a full minute after we were seated with the doors closed. He fell back against the seat, exhausted now that his adrenaline was fading. I sat silently, waiting for him to say something. Finally, he managed to glance at me, a pained look in his eyes. "Damn," he said, his voice hoarse. "Harkness, I'm so sorry. I was an idiot."

I wasn't sure what to say. I understood his anger, but was still shaken at having witnessed it in all it's power. "It's been a rough few days," I said at last.

"That doesn't excuse what happened." He let his gaze drop to his hands.

"No, it doesn't. But, I understand."

His shoulders rose and fell with a quiet sigh before he raised his head up to face me again. "First the Beaumonts, now Bastien...can we trust anyone here?" he asked. It wasn't a question he wanted me to answer, as was made evident when he quickly carried on, "I need to get away...away from this two-faced world and all its damned lies."

At first, I thought he was talking about leaving court altogether, but then he mentioned a dive bar he saw on the way over, and I breathed a sigh of relief. "Count me in," I say, moving towards the front of the limo to give the driver our instructions.

Ten minutes later, I was sitting in a booth in a dark corner of a dingy bar that I never would have noticed from the street. Drake was getting drinks, and after a minute he sat across from me, a glass of whiskey in one hand and red wine in the other. He pushed the wine towards me, and I smiled.

"Thanks," I said. "How'd you know?"

Drake just shrugged. "We've known each other long enough, by now, Harkness."

"And you're going to have a hard time getting rid of me."

"Get rid of you, Harkness? Never." He took a long sip of his whiskey and we sat in silence for a while.

"So..." I said at last. "Should we talk about what happened back there? I'm sorry we never got a chance to really talk about things after finding Savannah. I'm guessing you've been thinking about it a lot, though."

"Believe me, I wish I could stop thinking about it. I've worried about Savannah every single day since she ran away. I never stopped looking for her." He shook his head, looking into his glass. "I don't know what's worse, the fact that Maxwell knew where she was and didn't tell me, or the fact that my own sister didn't want me to find her."

"Honestly? I think Maxwell should have told you. I know his heart was in the right place, but..." I trailed off, not sure how to finish my thought.

"After tonight, I'm starting to feel like I can't trust anyone."

"Oh." I frowned. "Drake, I know Bastien was like family to you. I'm so sorry."

"Me too, Harkness. Me too." After another moment of silence, he continued. "I learned a long time ago that I couldn't trust any nobles, but at least we had Bastien looking out for us from the inside. And now...I thought I knew him. Now he's involved in this plot against you. Maxwell helped hide Savannah from me. And Bertrand's a father." He looked at me, frustrated.

"I know this is hard," I said, "But I'm here for you." I reached across the table and put a hand over his. "You can count on that. Always."

Drake just looked at me sadly, and even though he didn't say anything, I suddenly knew what he was thinking. That in the end, I'll be with Liam, and he'll be alone. My stomach turned at the thought of it. Instead of continuing the conversation, I diverted. "You know what? We came here to get away from all the drama, right? So, let's have some fun."

Drake smiled a little. "Does that mean more drinks?" He held up his empty whiskey glass.

"Yes. Aaaand...it means drinking games." I jumped up from the booth to get another round, and when I came back, I had two tumblers of liquor. "Whiskey for Drake," I said, setting his down, "And Tequila for me."

"Whoa, you sure about that, Harkness?"

"Can't play Never Have I Ever with wine," I said, "That's weak."

"What's Never Have I Ever?"

My jaw dropped. Okay, maybe I played up the shock a little. But really, who hasn't heard of that game? "I can't believe you've never played! You say something you've never done, and if the other person has done it-"

"They take a drink?" He finished.

"You're a natural," I said with a grin. "We'll play three rounds. Whoever has had the fewest shots at the end is the winner."

He thought about it for a minute, then shrugged. "Alright. It's your game, so you go first."

"I guess I'd better make the first question count." I put my elbows on the table, lacing my fingers together so I could rest my chin on my hands. I stared intently at Drake, considering what to say next. I thought about a story Liam had told me during the social season, and grinned. "Never have I ever been on a sinking ship."

"Ouch. That's harsh, Harkness. Me and Liam could have drowned on that thing!"

"Well, I'm glad you didn't. But it still happened, so drink, Walker!"

Drake dutifully took a sip of whiskey, and then studied me carefully as he thought up his response. "Alright. Never have I ever been set up with someone."

"Really?" I asked with a hint of suspicion. "Not even once?"

"Not even once," he said, crossing his heart in a promise.

"Huh. I guess Maxwell and Liam aren't the kind of friends who go around setting you up, huh?"

"They've usually got their own things going on. Drink up."

I took a sip of my tequila and grimaced. "Should have asked for a lime," I said, and saw Drake grinning at me, clearly enjoying my pain. "Alright," I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "Round two. Never have I ever..." and, I'm going to blame the tequila for my next words, which I'm not proud of, but which I was certain would earn me a point. "Never have I ever imagined someone in this room naked."

His gape told me I was correct, and I couldn't help grinning devilishly at him. Without a word, he took a long drink from his whiskey, setting the glass back on the table with a loud THUD. "Don't look so smug," he told me. "How do you know that this has anything to do with you? Maybe I'm thinking of the bartender."

I turned around in my seat to look at the bartender in question - a burly, tattooed man with more hair on his chin than his head. I looked back at Drake, my grin unfading. "Well, that's a good point. I guess I'll never really know."

"Exactly. Now. It's my turn. Never have I ever..." he faltered, looking around the room for inspiration. Finally, he looked back at me, and his eyes lit up. "Worn a dress!" He sat back, smug.

"Cheap shot," I said as I drank my tequila, though I knew I had no right to complain.

"Funny how the cheap shots can be the most effective."

"Well, don't get cocky yet. We've still got one round to go."

"Alright, Harkness, let's see what you've got."

"Never have I ever..." I paused, because I was about to say had a scandalous dream about the two of us, but I realized that wasn't really true. I fumbled for a second, and then came up with, "Never have I ever had a crush on Kiara?" It was a question, because I didn't really believe Drake did have a crush on Kiara, but I was hoping he might play along.

Of course, he didn't. "Kiara?" He said with an eyebrow raised. "Really?"

"Don't pretend you haven't seen the way she looks at you. When we built the barn and you had your shirt off, she couldn't stop staring."

He shook his head, laughing. "Kiara's not bad as far as noble ladies go, but...no. You're out of luck for this round, Harkness."

I wrinkled my nose and waited for him to take his final turn.

"Never have I ever...eaten a deep dish pizza." He got that smug look again, like he had just won, so I took my time delivering his bad news.

"Oh wow...yeah...nice...nice try. But that makes two of us."

He narrowed his eyes like he didn't believe me. "Really? You have to be honest, you know."

"I am! I was raised on thin crust, hand to God!"

"Which means...we tied?"

"Yep. Good game." I held out my hand, and he shook it, very sportsmanlike. "Oh, but we forgot to say what we were playing for!"

"Oh? I guess it's not too late."

I finished my tequila as I thought about it. Which, for the record is the only reason I suggested that the stakes should be a kiss. Drake was so cute, and he had had such a bad day, and I knew that a kiss would help him feel better. And...and tequila. Okay? That's all.

"Harkness..." he said slowly. "Are you sure about that?"

I shrugged casually. "I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do. But after tonight and everything that happened, I..."

Before I could finish my thought, he had stood up and pulled me across the table to meet his lips in a longing kiss. It was awkward, leaning over a wide table, half-standing in the vinyl booth. But I didn't really care. When we finally parted, we were both a little breathless. I fell back into my seat with a thunk, gazing mindlessly ahead.

"You don't make this easy," Drake said after a moment.

"It felt pretty easy to me," I whispered.

"Funny. You know what I mean." I looked at him for the first time since our lips parted, and furrowed my eyebrows. I really didn't know what he was talking about, so finally he explained it. "I mean, trying to control how I feel about you. I can't..." he reached out to brush a strand of hair from my face, but then pulled his hand back like I had burned him.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. I cursed myself at not being able to speak normally, but I was still a little breathless.

Now it was his turn to shrug casually. "I'd be lying if I said I regretted it." He looked around, noticing the empty bar, and said we should get going. Wordlessly, I followed him out to the limo. He settled me in, but didn't follow. "I'll walk," he said, shutting the door and tapping on the roof. As we drove away, I threw myself across the seat, putting my hand across my face.

"Damn it," I groaned. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!"