Hey, guys! Back with another chapter. Sorry for the long wait but the chapters are very long so it takes me a bit of time to write them. I also wanted to wait to see the seson finale to see if I could incorporate anything from it. Please let me know what you think in the comments section.

I would like to thank everyone for the wonderful feed-back and for reading. I hope you enjoy this new chapter as much as the last one!

Chapter 2

Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow

"… and in other news … This marks the second day that His Royal Highness, Prince Liam, has been imprisoned in Rio de Janeiro."

The news anchor spoke gravely, his tone marking the severity of the situation. A situation that was continuing to unravel right before Robert's eyes.

He kept his eyes affixed on the screen of his laptop, as he was typing out an appropriate response to be given to the press. As he tried to compose a measured, formal statement that both acknowledged Liam's mistake but also didn't tarnish his reputation in a way that would hurt the entire credibility of The Firm, Robert could feel his fingers hitting the keys harder and harder with each letter. Was there no end to Liam's stupidity?

"With details as to the cause of the prince's imprisonment still murky, the eyes of the world turn to the Palace where the king is due to give a press conference in the following hours. This is yet another in a series of scandals that has myriad the Royal family since the death of King Simon. With issues of British security overseas and national laws possibly in danger from Royal influence, King Robert seems to be faced with a seemingly impossible choice."

He could hear his mother long before she came into his study. Her high heels pierced the floor as she marched down the hallway before bursting into the room, holding a large stack of newspapers.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" she shouted. "How dare you stop me from attending the press conference?"

"I was merely rectifying an unwise decision," he said, not looking up from the screen.

Helena grabbed a hold of the laptop and pushed it shut, forcing Robert to withdraw his hand quickly. "I am not competing with that thing. Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

Robert grit his teeth and looked up at his mother. "I thought I had made myself clear last month. There will be no more dissenting opinions in this family. We will present a united front to the world, under one voice… Mine!"

She took a deep breath before speaking: "Robert, you know me well enough to know that I will not stand by idly and watch my youngest son go to prison. You want to present the world with only one voice? Fine. Just as long as that voice says what I want it to say."

"And what is it that you want, mother?"

"I want you to get your brother out of prison. This is ridiculous! Irrelevant Hollywood nobodies have been attacking the paparazzi for decades and they've gotten Oscars for it. Your brother punches one of these swamp dwellers and he goes to prison in Brazil? Would you really have me believe that you had nothing to do with it?"

"Your faith in my abilities is touching, mum," Robert said, still feeling the sting of the accusation. "But contrary to popular belief, I do not hold any sway over the justice system of other sovereign nations."

"Robert, look at me," Helena said, leaning over his desk and looking straight into his eyes. "Did you have anything to do with this?"

"Absolutely not!"

Helena seemed satisfied with his denial. "What are you doing to get him out?"

"Let me worry about that," he said. "There's no reason for you to trouble yourself."

Helena sighed. "It won't work, you know."

When Robert looked puzzled, she continued: "You think you're punishing Liam with this but you're punishing yourself too. Have you read the headlines today?"

She started throwing the newspapers she was holding on the table, one by one. "King Robert, the vengeful brother," she quoted. "No wonder Willow left him for Liam … Hell hath no fury like a king scorned …"

"Enough," he said.

"You getting hold of the tapes of what happened, trying to keep it under wraps, it won't help, Robert … The journalists that were there talked. They know Wilhelmina was with him. Is this how you want to be perceived? As the vengeful brother attacking two young lovers?"

"I said enough, mother!" Robert's raised voice finally stopped Helena's deluge.

He hated himself for losing control. It was always a clear indication that whatever had been said had gotten to him. The humiliation that he felt was sufficient without having people knowing about it. He got up and fastened the button on his jacket.

"Your petition on behalf of Liam has been received. The King," he said, "will give you his decision in due course."

He moved towards the door but his mother's words stopped him.

"This is a dangerous game you're playing, my little idiot. Be careful or you'll end up playing it completely alone."

He turned and smiled at her, in a particular way he reserved only for the people he had an upper hand on. "Speaking of games … I hear Henry Acton is back in town."

"Our ambassador to Brazil?" Helena asked.

"Yes. I've requested he return to London," Robert said matter of factly. "I remembered you were friends. Perhaps you can use this time to catch up and reminisce about the old days."

He could see that this had caught his mother off guard. As he suspected, she had intended to use Acton's influence to intervene for Liam, behind his back. Robert was determined not to be undermined this time.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a press conference in a few minutes."

-oOo-

My world is more vibrant because of you … My heart aches and my body trembles but I would walk away from all of it to be with you for the rest of time …

The words still rang in her ears as she made her way towards his study. When he spoke them, he had seemed so earnest, so vulnerable. She even thought she detected tears in his eyes.

It had been a turbulent time for them. Cassandra's attack, the decision to abolish Parliament permanently, Liam's coup and Robert's coldness at banishing him, his refusal to talk to her about what he was going through… it had all made her confused and fearing the worst. So after weeks of doubt about his feelings towards her and even about his moral character, it had come as a blessed relief to be reassured that his feelings for her were genuine. That this was not a publicity stunt, but a marriage between two people that were deeply in love.

When Eleanor told her that those words were not Robert's but hers, stolen from a letter he undoubtedly destroyed in order to keep her away from Jasper, Willow was once again left in utter confusion. That was the most terrible thing of all. That she never got any clarity … not about him, not about their relationship, not about any of it.

She decided to confront him once again, this time resolute in finding out exactly what his intentions were.

The door to the study was slightly open and she could distinctly hear two voices.

"I told you that one of these nights you were going to wake up and need me."

As she got closer, Willow fell completely still as she watched Cassandra's arms encircling her fiancée's neck. Robert's back was turned to the door so she couldn't see his expression but she heard his words clearly enough.

"Just like the Trojan princess you were named after, you are a true fortune teller, Cassandra."

"Luckily, unlike the Trojans, you listened to me,. Otherwise, your brother's horse would have burnt your reign to the ground by now."

"And I am very grateful for your assistance."

"Gratitude is good," she said, her mouth getting closer to his. "Reward is better."

"What reward do you have in mind?"

"Get rid of your precious little puppet. She might look sweet enough in a white dress, but she's not the queen you need."

Willow bit her lip hard to stop herself from screaming. She could feel her stomach twisting painfully, as she waited for Robert's answer. Each moment hurt her in ways she didn't even know she could be hurt and yet she remained nailed in place.

"I can't do that," he said.

She caught herself exhaling audibly and she feared that they might have over heard.

"It's far too late for all of that now," he went on to explain. "It would be a public scandal." As Cassandra moved away from him, evidently displeased with his answer, he caught her by the waist and pulled her closer to him. "Besides, she is exactly the queen I need … in public at least."

The last part intrigued Cassandra and she looked at him.

"She is sweet, demure," he said, caressing her face, "and most importantly, easily manageable."

"Unlike me?"

"Let her play the queen in public. I can think of far more important things you can be doing in private."

She found herself moving from the door, almost without realizing it. Her face was covered in tears but she couldn't remember at what point she had started crying. She had come there to find clarity. And now that she had, part of her wished she had remained blind.

Willow pushed her way forward through the queue of people. The local police station in Rio was filthy, crowded and overheated. If this was any indication of what the cells were like, she knew Liam must be in hell. Still, it was far better than being moved to an actual Brazilian prison, a place where gangs dominated and wars between inmates were an almost daily occurrence.

She made her way towards the captain's office, holding a piece of paper tightly in her hand … the key to Liam's freedom.

"Good afternoon, Captain Sousa," she said, sitting down across from the man, not giving him enough time to invite her in.

"Ah, Miss Moreno," he said, dragging his words. He spoke surprisingly good English for a local official.

The room they were in was small and reeked of tobacco. The paint on the walls had, at one point, been white but had now turned an unflattering shade of smoky grey. A fan creaked overhead attempting to compensate for the lack of ventilation but as she felt the sweat built up on her upper lip it was clearly doing a very poor job of it.

The strangest thing of all was the way the room contrasted with the man in front of her. He was tall, with blond hair and blue eyes. He was elegant and his clothes had been hand pressed. He looked impeccable and completely out of place.

She assumed he came from an affluent background. That would have explained the European descent and the English proficiency, at least. Also the fact that the British ambassador had to call the station three times before he was able to speak to the captain.

"I have brought this," she said, handing him the document and attempting to appear as calm as possible. "It is a letter from the British ambassador who has been authorized by Her Majesty, Queen Helena, to speak on her behalf. She requests the immediate release of her son and assures you of her eternal gratitude."

Sousa remained silent, inspecting the document. "Hmmm," he finally said. "Remarkable …"

"Sir?"

"It is an honor for this humble official to receive a letter from the Queen of Great Britain."

Willow smiled, pleased that the letter had the desired effect.

"You will have to excuse me … I am not very familiar with the customs of your country. But isn't your king the head of state? I assumed that he would be in charge of all official requests."

Willow swallowed hard. Sousa was planting a trap and she was perilously close to falling into it. "Sir, this request does not come at the behest of only the queen, but the entire Royal family. That much is implied …Also, as the ambassador points out, releasing Prince Liam would only be a continuation of the good will that has always existed between yourself and the Embassy."

"Yes, that is true. Mr. Acton and I have always had a good relationship. Considering the large number of British tourists coming here every year, it was a mutually beneficial agreement … However, Miss Moreno, as the ambassador was removed from office today, I do not hold myself bound to that agreement."

"Removed?"

"Yes. Aside from that, I have received word from my superior that we need to treat the Prince as any other inmate. He will be moved to a prison tomorrow. We cannot be seen as unwilling to protect our own citizens."

Sousa got up, signaling to Willow that their audience was at an end.

"But … Prince Liam is a senior member of the Royal Family. He has immunity from prosecution, surely."

"I'm sorry," the captain said, moving to the door and opening it. "His immunity was revoked 3 days ago. Your friend is on his own, Miss."

Realizing that it was futile to argue with him, Willow got up and left the room. As she walked towards the exit, she bit her lip hard, trying to stop the tears. Robert had done this … He had revoked Liam's immunity; he had recalled the ambassador to London.

It shouldn't have surprised her but somehow it did. It was a familiar pattern. No matter how hard Willow had tried to build a solid foundation for the two of them, the lies and deception would always bring the card palace tumbling down.

-oOo-

Liam kept opening and closing his fists, tightening the grip as much as he could. His knuckles were swollen and bruised red. Each movement, as the skin stretched and then relaxed, hurt like hell but it kept his mind from wandering.

The cell he had been placed in two days before was small and damp. He hadn't been taken out; no one had come to talk to him or to ask questions. A flicker of light coming from a small opening in the wall behind him, close to the ceiling, was the only indication that time was passing.

As he sat on the concrete bench that was intended as a bed of sorts, his legs pressed up against his chest, he was beginning to realize that, in that moment, he was more alone than he had been his entire life.

Being alone was dangerous for Liam, particularly now. It gave him time to think … and to remember.

He thought about her beautiful smile when she would wake up in the morning, the way the sun would hit her golden hair or the sound of her voice when she said his name. Mostly he thought about the last time he had held her in his arms. The way he had wrapped his arms around her waist, the way he had cradled her slightly swollen belly and had told her he needed to keep her and his baby safe.

As painful as they were now, those were the happy memories … What followed was what really filled him with dread. If someone had asked him, he could say with exact accuracy the moment when his life had been ruined forever: precisely 722 hours, 45 minutes and 12 seconds ago. It had been on a Tuesday, 3 days after his failed coup. He had slipped from the palace determined to get Kathryn and leave England for good. They had exchanged messages through her father in the past days and had arranged to meet in the place that had held their beginning and, as he would find out, their end.

He could still remember walking into the empty pub and seeing her dad sitting at a table, crying like a baby. "My two daughters …" he had said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Both gone …" It was an accident on the highway, he explained. No one had been to blame.

Liam knew that to be a lie. There was someone to blame … Him. He hadn't been there to protect her. She and his baby were the price he had to pay for what he had done.

There was nothing he could do. No way to rectify the wrongs of the past or to get back what he had lost. Faced with that guilt, he had chosen to run away. But now, in a dampened, dark cell in Rio, it had finally come crushing back on him.

"Look at the little chorao …"

The sound of another voice so close to him almost startled him. He looked up and saw a boy standing next to the cell bars. The guards must have brought him in at some point, but Liam couldn't remember hearing it.

He was very young and slender, barely as tall as him. He was dressed in rags and as he talked, Liam could see two of his teeth were missing. A few months ago, he would have felt bad for the kid, tried to help him in some way but now he just stared blankly at him, no energy left to care.

"Why you cry, chorao?" he asked

Liam didn't answer.

The kid must have taken offence because he got closer to the bed and ordered him: "Move!" he said. "I sit on bed!"

Liam looked up menacingly. "Why don't you try and move me?" he said, while tightening his fists until the knuckles went white.

Something in his tone alerted the kid because he moved back, his eyes large with fear. He shrugged it off quickly and went back to being a pain. "Fine, sit on bed. You go to Dias Moreira tomorrow anyway … You die there."

It was more than a euphemism, Liam could tell. "Who told you that?"

The boy shrugged, feeling proud of himself for getting his attention. "My cousin … he say they wait for the little chorao prince. They kill him. Order from big boss."

"Who's the big boss?"

"You know nothing, do you?" the boy said, aggravated. "Moranguinho! He know important people … he do favor for them and kill you! "

Liam smiled bitterly. He knew exactly who those 'important people' were.

-oOo-

"As your Majesty can see from the footage, Prince Liam and Miss Moreno arrive at the hotel at just after 12 o'clock at night," Hill said, as he forwarded through the mobile camera footage that had been taken on the night of Liam's incident. "The moment they arrive, the media storms them."

Robert had always appreciated his debriefings with James Hill. As Head of Security, he was impeccable. Efficient, to the point, incredibly observant and not prone to long widened speeches. Too bad his weakness for Frost made him slip. He had no doubt that it was his affection for his sister's bodyguard that had turned the usually reliable man conveniently myopic to the coup that was being organized right under his nose.

Still, Robert reasoned, the worst thing about being king was that there was really no one he could truly trust. Because of either greed, ambition or ill advised feelings, all those around him ended up disappointing him in some way. The footage playing in front of his eyes, of his own brother and his once fiancée arriving at their hotel after a midnight stroll on the beach, was proof enough of that.

He refused to be hurt by it, though. He had accepted the risk when he had taken the crown.

"As the paparazzi encircle them, you can notice the Brazilian reporter looking behind him," Hill said.

He paused the video on the frame of the man Liam attacked turning his head towards a black car parked just across the street.

"Yes. He seems to be looking at the Rolls Royce parked right behind him."

"Exactly, Your Majesty. And if you watch the car, it starts moving the moment Liam attacks the journalist." As James fast forwards to the attack, the car clearly disappears from view.

"Is it your expert opinion that my brother was framed, Mr. Hill?"

"It is. Nothing really fits. Your brother and his girl …"

James stopped himself from saying what the entire nation was most likely thinking. Robert appreciated the effort, not that it really helped at this point. He had tried his best to minimize the damage during the press conference but he was a realist. 'King's brother runs off with his fiancée' would be a headline that he would have to grapple with for a long time to come. His brother and Willow had turned his entire life and, more importantly, his reign into a goddamn daytime soap opera.

"Your brother and Miss Moreno," Hill continued, "had been in Rio for 2 weeks before the attack and went completely undetected. It seems far too convenient that this incident occurred a day after you had revoked the prince's immunity. "

His entire life, Robert had practiced controlling his face and body movements in order to indicate, in no uncertain terms, what he wanted people to do and say. He didn't appreciate the implication that it had been his actions that had gotten his brother in the mess he was in and the look he gave his Head of Security left the man in no doubt of that.

"Also the Rolls Royce is suspicious …," Hill said, rectifying his mistake.

"Cars have been known to drive away in Rio de Janeiro, Mr. Hill …" Robert said, incredulously.

"Your Majesty, I believe someone has been planning this for quite some time," he said, refusing to back down. "If that is true, it must have been a person that had first-hand knowledge of the private going-ones of the Palace."

Robert leaned back into his sofa and decided to put a stop to the conversation. He had heard everything he needed to know on the subject.

"We are the Royal Family," he said. "Nothing we ever do is truly private. Liam forgot that and now he is faced with the consequences."

"With all due respect, I believe your brother is in grave danger. If you do not act to protect him, I think the entire Royal Family will be faced with the consequences."

"Nonsense … a few months in prison might actually help him build some character."

Robert's own words gave him pause. It shocked him to hear himself sound so callous. For a split second, a memory flashed before his eyes of a scrape kneed 10 year old Liam running towards him from the football field. But that was replaced quickly by the image currently on his TV screen, of him holding Willow's hand and her looking at him with fondness.

"I stood in front of the press and the world today," he said, still starring at the screen, "and promised them that Great Britain respects and upholds the laws of all other sovereign nations. While I personally deplore what has happened to my brother, as king, I must keep my word to my people."

Hill seemed to understand, as he nodded. "The people of this country deserve a king that is as good as his word. That is true," he said. "But they also deserve one that is merciful. Your brother is young and foolish. Don't let a personal wound cause a tragedy you will end up regretting once the resentment has passed."

It was a good speech, Robert admitted. Almost fatherly in its wisdom and so foolish in its intention. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Hill."

The man sighed deeply, obviously disappointed, and he turned to leave.

"Ah, Mr. Hill…" Robert stopped him just as he opened the door, "I almost forgot. Is the other thing taken care of?"

Hill seemed confused by the change of topic and it took a minute for him to answer. "It's in progress as we speak, Your Majesty."

"Good," Robert said, pleased that at least something was going according to plan. "Let me know once it's done."

Robert waited until after his Head of Security firmly closed the door behind him before playing the footage from the beginning.

He forced himself to sit through it, even as his pulse rose. The sight of Willow and Liam standing so close to one another that their arms brushed against the other's, made him angry.

He was alone in his study but he did not allow his anger to show. It wasn't in his nature to give away his feelings. Ironically enough, he wasn't prepared to do so even to himself.

'Whore!'

The sound of the man's voice jolted him. He saw Willow turn towards him, her eyes wide and hurt. That look … it stirred something in him. Something he thought he had buried the night she ran away with Liam, without any explanation.

'Was she a good fuck?'

His brother's face changed completely when he heard the journalist's words. Robert knew that change well. Liam was so easy to rile up into a violent frenzy. Impulsive, headstrong, unaware of the consequences … All heart

He didn't know how much time he spent watching it but by evening's end, he had replayed that moment over and over again.

-oOo-

The cuffs went on his wrists and the bearded guard tightened them securely, making Liam wince. Two other guards came to stand by either side of him and pushed him forward, out of the cell.

He looked back to see the boy, Mateo as he was called, sleeping soundly on the stone bench. In the early hours of the morning, Liam had found it impossible to stay still any longer so he got up from the bed and starting pacing the cell back and forth, furiously. Mateo had looked at him in confusion and ultimately shrugged. He quickly got up from the floor and laid on the bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

It surprised Liam. He had found the bed hard and cold. The flimsy blanket covering it was far too damp and even through his jacket he could feel the coarse material irritating his skin. The human body, he thought, had a strange way of adapting to the worst of conditions.

As he was led down the corridor towards the police station exit, he decided he was going to force his body to adapt to whatever condition he was about to encounter and he began mentally preparing himself for the meeting with the so called Moranguinho. After all, his life was essentially over anyway so what was there to fear? His brother thought he had him cornered, that he would get rid of the spare by burying him in a Brazilian prison. But if Robert could survive on a desert island for 10 months, Liam could fight his way out of this. If for no other reason but not to give his brother the satisfaction of getting what he wanted.

The entrance was filled with policemen, creating a barrier for the dozen or so onlookers that were in the station and that were clamoring to see a real, live Prince in handcuffs. The uniformed men kept them at bay, pushing them back as the three officers scurried Liam towards the door.

"Let me pass!"

Liam turned to see Willow trying to push her way through the line. She had that determined look on her face that he had seen during their polo match and when she realized she couldn't push them away, she bent down and made a run for it, from beneath their extended arms.

"I've talked to your mother," she said quickly. "Don't worry! We're going to get you out!"

Before she could reach him, one of the guards caught her and began dragging her back behind the line.

"Leave her alone!" Liam yelled, before the Beard grabbed his hands and pulled him towards the exit.

"Liam!"

"Go home, Willow!" he said, speaking over his shoulder as he tried and failed to catch a glimpse of her. "Don't worry about me! I'll be fine!"

Suddenly, the doors to the police station opened. Liam squinted as the flash of several cameras were aimed at him. The journalists had already gathered to report on his transfer and the agitation was palpable.

Through the door, a man dressed in a black suit and wearing dark sunglasses walked in. He stopped in front of the Beard and began talking to him in Portuguese. The officer seemed taken aback by what the man was saying and he kept shaking his head. Liam tried to make sense of the words but it was no use. It was clear, though, that the man in black was not going to give up. They finally left together, while Liam and everyone else was left standing in front of the door for no apparent reason.

Minutes passed before the two men returned with a third one. He was tall and dignified, unlike the sweaty, angry guards he had been faced with until then. He was also clearly displeased with what he was about to do.

"Your Royal Highness," he said, taking his cuffed hand and shaking it. "I am Aleixo Sousa. On behalf of my police station and my men, I apologize for any trouble we might have caused you."

With a dry, polite smile that did not reach his eyes, Sousa took the keys from the Beard and uncuffed Liam.

"You are free to go," he said. "Although, I believe it is best for you to exit through the back door. My men will accompany you."

He then turned and spoke to the officer restraining Willow. She was released and she came rushing to Liam's side.

Bewildered as they were, they did not think to ask for an explanation and none was offered.

They made their way to the back of the police station, towards the fire escape, begrudgingly guided by two officers. As soon as they stepped outside, the officers turned around slamming the door behind them.

Willow and Liam barely had time to process anything, as they looked at each other in amazement that they had made it out of there.

They heard a car horn before turning and seeing a black Rolls Royce parked at a small distance away from them.

"Mum must have worked her magic," Liam said. He felt a strange wave of relief wash over him. He was sure he was prepared to fight and, potentially, die but now that it was over he had to admit he very much preferred not meeting the famous Moranguinho.

"I told you we would get you out," Willow said. She took his hand and they walked to the car.

As they climbed into the back seat, they found a man waiting for them. He was a bit older than him, Liam estimated, with dark hair and slightly bronzed skin. He mentally ran through all the Palace employees but he couldn't remember the oval, sharp chinned face and he very much doubted someone working for the Royal Family could afford the Desmond Merrion suit he was wearing.

He saw the man smiling at Willow and he turned to look at her.

She was completely shocked and slumped back into the car cushion as she stared at the man.

"Luis?" she said. "What are you doing here?"

-oOo-

"We now have official confirmation that His Royal Highness, Prince Liam, has been released from the police station in Rio de Janeiro." The news presenter spoke hurriedly reading off the teleprompter, as a breaking news tag covered the bottom of the screen.

"Details as to the exact nature of his release and the reasons behind it are unclear at this time, as the officials in Rio de Janeiro are refusing to talk to the press. The prince has not been seen in public since his apprehension and as media from around the world converge on the now infamous Copacabana hotel, we can only pray that, wherever he is, our Prince is out of harms way."

Robert turned off the TV and took another gulp of his scotch. It had been a tiring and deeply frustrating day. He had discarded his jacket and tie and rolled the sleeves on his shirt. It was the one bit of comfort he allowed himself at the end of the day.

He leaned back into the sofa and tilted his head back, closing his eyes. He exhaled deeply as if trying to expel some cumbersome burden.

"So the evil little brother won't go to prison after all."

Robert remained still, his eyes still closed. "You're late," he said.

"I had trouble picking my outfit," came the response delivered in a perfectly practiced sultry voice. "Do you like?"

Robert slowly opened his eyes and watched as Cassandra approached the sofa, walking slowly, undulating her movements like a snake making its way to the unsuspecting prey. She was not a beautiful woman by any means. Her features were too harsh and her eyes too far apart. But she was resourceful; Robert had to give her that. She made the most out of what she had.

He took his time answering, measuring her from head to toe. She came to stand right in front of him, hands on hips, striking a pose.

She was wearing a tight, black dress with a zipper that ran all the way down the front of it. "Seems like a waste," he said. He held her with his gaze for a moment before grabbing the zipper and pulling it all the way down, to reveal an equally black lingerie set. He gave her a sharp smile to show his approval, before leaning back and stretching his arms on the back of the sofa.

Cassandra accepted the invitation and she dropped her dress to the floor before climbing onto his lap. Her fingers began slowly caressing the exposed skin around his collar. "Your brother getting out of prison is bad for you. You know that, don't you?"

"Is it?"

"Now that he's out and the press knows about them, they'll follow him and Miss Sweet and Innocent all over the world."

Robert turned his head momentarily and dropped his eyes. She must have sensed the moment of hesitation so she continued.

"Imagine the pictures of them frolicking on the most famous beaches in the world, meeting foreign dignitaries in your name …"

He grit his teeth. "Are these the famous Trojan predictions of the day?" he said, looking at her.

"Oh no, my darling," she said, moving her hands to his face and edging closer to him. "Those are the facts."

He took one of the brown strands of her hair into his hand, wrapping it around a finger. He looked for the small golden flexes and the reddish tint he had come to expect from brown hair but it wasn't there. He let it slip through his fingers disappointed, before looking up at her. "And I imagine you have a solution to counterattack these … facts."

"Of course. The only solution that makes sense. The only one that will change the narrative."

When Robert raised his eyebrows questioningly, she smiled slyly and put her mouth to his ear. "Give the country a new queen."

He seemed to consider it for a moment and then he put his hands on her hips, pulling her body closer to his chest.

Cassandra's face brightened with the feeling of victory. "We're good together," she whispered. "And you need me. Your brother's coup is only the tip of the iceberg of what I can bring to the table …"

She looked at him expectantly, her brown eyes hungry. He let her wait, allowing her expectations to rise. "I'll think about it," he finally said.

She let out an exasperated sigh but did not move. It was a moment before she composed herself and smiled, encircling his neck with her arms. "You do that, my darling. But while you do, don't you think we should perhaps hold our secret rendezvous in your bedroom? The sofa is starting to hurt my back."

Robert laughed and brought his mouth tantalizing close to hers, only to pull away.

"Cassandra, don't be disappointing," he said. "You say you want to be queen. Do you want my bed or do you want power?" He raised his arms and held her gaze coldly. "Look around you. This is as close to power as you're ever going to get."

She looked around the room for a moment and eyed him suspiciously, as if deciding which meaning to take from his words. As she opened her mouth to speak, he put a finger over her lips.

"Now shut up," he said. "And show me what you can do with your mouth."

-oOo-

One … They were in a small bar on the outskirts of Rio de Janeiro. When Liam had asked if the tequila was any good, Luis said that it made you like Superman during the night and it hit you like Kryptonite in the morning.

Liam could use some Kryptonite.

"You just got out of prison. I think we need to celebrate!" Luis put the bottle of tequila in the middle of the table after pouring three shots.

He pushed two of the glasses towards Willow and Liam.

He took his glass, held it with the palm of his hand and rolled it stylistically to his mouth before drinking it.

"Show off!" Willow said, rolling her eyes. She licked the salt off the back of her hand and downed her shot, without showing any kind of sign that the alcohol was too much for her.

"Got to love a woman who can hold her drink," Luis said, smiling broadly at her. "Mina, do you remember that time we were in Cancun and you got up on the bar …"

"Hey!" she said, pointing her finger at him. "You promised you would never talk about that!"

Liam looked at them in confusion, not quite understanding what was happening. "How do you guys know each other again?"

"Luis' father was the Venezuelan ambassador to Buenos Aires for years. We grew up together," Willow said.

Luis leaned in and whispered towards Liam: "She used to pretend that we were characters in Sailor Moon …"

"Hey!" Willow said, hitting him playfully across the arm.

"I had to wear a skirt! It was essentially torture," he defended himself to Liam.

As Luis recounted how he had arrived in Brazil a month before to set up a charity for poor people who couldn't afford expensive cancer treatment, Liam gained a great deal of respect for him. When he went on to explain that as soon as he found out that Willow and Liam were in trouble, he got on the phone with the Attorney General of the Union, an old friend of his father's, Luis Carlos Villanueva had gained a friend for life.

"I'm very grateful to you," Liam said.

Luis shrugged it off: "To be honest, I think you were more trouble to them then you were worth," he told Liam.

Liam smiled, pouring himself and the others another drink. He raised his glass. "Cheers!"

Two … three … four … five

Liam held the bottle of tequila tightly as he ran in front of Willow and Luis, spinning as he went. The world was all topsy turvy and he decided to embrace it. Thoughts no longer were forming coherently and it was a blessed relief.

For a moment he considered that perhaps he was drunk. He had nothing to eat all day after all but, strangely enough, he didn't feel hungry … He felt …

"Alive!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. "I'm alive."

Through a daze, he heard Willow's voice. "Perhaps we should get him into a bed."

Luis laughed. "Calm down. He's been locked up for two days. I'd go a little crazy too if I was in his place."

Liam turned around, staggering on his feet. He held on to the bottle tightly. He was sure it was the only thing keeping him in balance. "Right … you … are, mate," he said, slurring his words. "Right you are."

SixSevenEight ... Nine ... Ten ...

The beat of the electronic music seemed to bang directly into his brain. He bopped his head frantically, jumping up and down. He looked around and, through the darkness, saw a sea of people covered in florescent paint. He looked down and he saw that his skin and his clothes were covered in shades of green and yellow. He didn't know where he was but he didn't care.

"Are you sure you're ok?"

Willow shouted directly into his ear and the sound pierced his already assaulted eardrum. He turned and his eyes grew large as he saw that Willow was completely covered in blue florescent paint.

He burst out laughing. "You look like a smurf!" he shouted over the music.

Willow laughed as well, slightly confused and perhaps a little offended. "Thanks …"

"A very cute …" he said, trying his best to pronounce the words. "Large …sssssmurf"

ElevenTwelveThirteenFourteen

He felt himself float above the cobbled stoned streets of Rio. A pleasant breeze brushed against his skin. He felt as light as air. Luis was right.

"I'm Superman!" he shouted.

"You're super, extra heavy, that's for sure."

It couldn't be. It sounded like James Hill's voice. What was he doing in Rio?

"James?" he said. "James, is that you?"

"Yes, Your Highness," he said, his voice strained. "It's me … unfortunately."

"You can fly too or …." Liam tried to make sense of the thoughts in his head, "or … have you gotten taller?" He burst out laughing.

"No, I haven't gotten taller …. What the hell did you give him?!"

"Just some tequila."

Liam jumped as he heard the second voice, coming from his right. Suddenly, he realized that his arms were stretched over Luis' and James' shoulders. He wasn't Superman after all …

His vision became blurry and everything started to spin. "Luis," he said. "I'm sssstarting to … to feel the Krypt ….krypto … thhhhing."

As the world became more and more blurry, the last thing he heard was James' voice.

"Don't worry, son. I'm taking you home."

-oOo-

Walking towards the Royal jet on the airport track felt, in more ways than one, like a walk of shame. Willow's head was still threatening to explode from the excursions of the past night but as she looked at Liam, she felt like she wasn't doing that badly.

He was white as a sheet and still staggering under the effects of the "Kryptonite". Since they were unable to go back to the Copacabana, he had been stuck in his painted covered tux. Not that he seemed to notice and not that she was one to judge. She was after all covered in blue paint. She had tried to scrub it off in the shower but the damn thing didn't want to come off. Smurf indeed...

Luis walked alongside them, dressed in a casual pair of white trousers and shirt, looking very much like some sort of Arabian prince. He had been blessed with an impeccable metabolism that allowed him to drink copious amounts of liquor without the slightest side effect. Considering his history, Willow knew that he had put that 'superpower' to the test many times.

As they got closer to the jet, Willow could see James walking inside the aircraft, towards the pilot's cockpit, no doubt setting up the final details before the flight. Around the jet, James' security team flanked the staircase, waiting for Liam to board.

Willow shook her head. The Firm, as Queen Helena often called it, had a strange way to bring normalcy to even the weirdest of circumstances.

As they reached the stairs, Liam turned towards her. He kept his sunglasses pressed up against his face. Whether it was to shield himself from the sun light or the rest of the world from his battered state, Willow couldn't quite decide.

He smiled at her and it left a pit in Willow's stomach. It was time to say goodbye. The last link to what had been her life until then was about to fall away.

"Well, it was fun," Liam said.

Willow laughed bitterly. "We were a pathetic mess, Liam."

Liam nodded and wrapped her arms around her. "See you soon!" he said.

"Sure," she said, biting her bottom lip. "There's always next year's carnival."

"We'll meet well before that," he said, looking at her. "When you come back to London."

Willow shook her head. "I don't think that's possible for me …"

"Nonsense," Liam said, frowning. "You've got an invitation."

He turned and began climbing the stairs.

"From whom?"

"From His Royal Highness, Prince Liam of Henstridge," he said, looking back at her.

Willow smiled and waved at him as he got on the plane. She stood there, concentrating very hard not to cry as she saw the door to the plane closing.

"What do you want to do now?" Luis asked.

Willow took a moment to answer. "I want to go home."