A/N: Azalea Stones belongs to Roses323. Her story can be found in To Build a Home. One of the biggest joys of expanding the TBAH universe is having little scenes like this come together.

The Thing About Saying Yes

The thing about saying yes was...well...yes was a complicated word.

Everyone said yes to Hayden. Every whim was catered to, every desire fulfilled. Nothing was out of Hayden's reach and doors opened the moment she said please. Yes was such an easy word when it came to material things. Dolce, Prada, Fendi, anything and everything was at her manicured fingertips. Nothing was too lavish, too expensive, too much.

The hard part was saying yes to people. Responsibilities. Collaborating on the Hope Gala with your mother for the fifth year in a row.

Hayden was early to the meeting, as always. She rarely got invited to these things so she always had to show up and show out when she was. It wasn't hard to be the best dressed in any room when her competition was her mother, the staff, and her overly-conservative sister, all of which dressed decades older than they should've. Honestly, Hayden had half a mind to throw out their clothes while they weren't looking.

Sitting silently across from Elodie was excruciating. Not that they had a bad relationship, but there was so much Hayden wanted to ask but so much she knew was off limits based on Elodie's body language alone. If Elodie sat up any straighter the stick shoved up her ass would fall out, and they couldn't have that. She sipped on her coffee with outward aggression, checking her phone every few minutes with compulsive need. It was all so unlike Elodie Hayden had to wonder if her sister had been body snatched.

Then, Mom's office doors opened and in walked the Queen, regal in her flowing sundress and pink cardigan.

"Elodie, darling, so glad you were able to join us," Mom cooed, pleased as punch to see the golden child back on her pedestal where she belonged.

Elodie, on the other hand, looked like she had just sucked on an extra sour lemon.

"I'm glad you decided to bring me in on the planning process."

"Yes, well, this is the first year Auden will not be able to co-host, and the gala has always been a family affair. Hayden is so happy to have your input, aren't you Hayden?"

"Thrilled," Hayden said through her teeth, plastering on a wide smile.

It wasn't that she disliked working with Elodie. It was just that, well, Elodie had a way of domineering over things until she made them completely her own, leaving no room for anyone else's input. Hayden wasn't looking forward to fighting tooth and nail over small details like napkins or seating charts when it was so simple before. With Auden. How it should be.

Speaking of collaboration, Elodie wasn't the only new face in the room.

"Is he helping us?" Hayden asked, pointing to the Selected sitting in the corner. She used to know all their names, had even quizzed herself on the plane to drop off Auden, but that was months ago. So much had happened since then.

The guy had dressed up nice for the meeting - over dressed in Hayden's opinion - in a formal suit and tie like this was some kind of interview. For him, maybe it was. Every day in the palace was an audition to be a prince.

"I was wondering that as well," Elodie said, giving him some serious side eye. "What is a Selected doing participating a family event?"

"I'm not looking to step on any toes - "

Mom held up her hand, ending his attempt to defend himself.

"Mister Wallace-Chavaria has expressed interest in the foundation and his willingness to help organize public outreach. I've decided to place him in charge of the donations center and the silent auction which, as you know, is held right before dinner."

"But I've always run the silent auction," Hayden pointed out, a little hurt.

"And you've always expressed how much you disliked talking a mile a minute," Mom countered kindly yet firmly. "I thought I'd be doing you a favor."

Before they could get into a fight, Mom's office door burst open and a petite brunette woman came tumbling inside.

"Sorry I'm late!" she shouted, throwing off her jacket and tossing it at the nearest servant. Her pants were creased in all the wrong places and her hair was tossed up in a messy bun, but her face was nothing but smiles and sunshine. Typical Azalea Stones. "Traffic was murder, and then those ghouls at the front gate didn't believe me when I told them I had a meeting!"

"Oh, how awful," Mom commiserated, standing to welcome her guest. "I'll have Aspen talk to whoever's on post."

"Thank you," Azalea said with a sigh, dropping her bag in the nearest chair and opening her arms. "Oh, it's so good to see you!"

The two women wrapped each other in tight hugs.

It was strange to think that had things gone another way, Azalea Banks could have been Queen of Illéa. She was third runner up in her Selection, narrowly missing out on the crown by eliminating herself in a shocking eleventh hour departure. She hadn't quite accepted the dangers of royal life; they didn't agree with her delicate and jovial nature. Dad had said if Azalea stuck it out, maybe things would have ended differently, but Hayden doubted that. One look at Mom and Dad and she knew they were meant for each other.

Maybe that was why Mom didn't harbor any jealousy or resentment for any of her former Selected. Heather Bloomsdale, Freya Jackson, Azalea Stones - they were all on such good terms. It made Elodie uncomfortable, her lips pressed in a thin white line. Maybe she was thinking about all her Selected as well and the fact she spoke to none of them, even the ones she parted on good terms with.

Jealous husbands would do that, Hayden thought. Jealous husbands who beat the shit out of you for even thinking about sending a 'let's catch up' text to the man who came in third.

"Look at you! Getting prettier every year, Miss Hayden," Azalea cooed. If she could've pinched Hayden's cheeks, she would've. Instead, she plopped her plump behind into the chair claimed by her bag and crossed her legs, leaning in for the scoop. "How's the LSAT studying going? Your mother tells me your heart's set on law school."

"It's going well. I have a test date next month."

"You do?" Mom asked, her eyes widening. "You didn't tell me that."

Hayden shrugged. "I've been busy."

Truth be told, she'd forgotten until she got the reminder email earlier that morning. It was easy to forget what wasn't directly in front of her, affecting her body and soul like the crushing betrayal from a friend.

"And how is the Queen-to-be?" Azalea switched her aim to Elodie. "That precious girl of yours still giving you hell?"

"Every day," Elodie said, her smile softening at the mention of her daughter. "She's pretty much the only thing that gets me out of bed."

Everyone laughed. Obvious Elodie was joking...wasn't she? The workaholic always had things to do, fueled by the drive for more. Of course she was joking.

Hayden wasn't laughing, but that was because she noticed the lines around Elodie's eyes, the dark circles that got darker every day, the mysterious absence. Elodie was tired and hurting, but no one took her seriously. Why?

Elodie shot Hayden a warning look, daring her to say something in front of all these people. It wasn't her style to draw attention away from the shiny exterior of their 'perfect' family. She'd play house until the façade cracked and the skeletons burst from the foundation. Even then, she'd deny, deny, deny with that damn smile.

Now wasn't the time to poke that wound. Not when everyone was happy.

"We're down to the wire ladies, and gentleman," Azalea added, catching sight of Dante in the corner. "The gala is in a little over a month and we have got to get the final touches in place before my phone explodes with angry vendors."

"Who have we secured so far?" Mom asked, pulling out her planner dedicated solely for the Gala. It was powder blue and embossed with Hope Foundation logo.

"The Angeles Women's Society and the Orange Grove Key Club are sponsoring booths. There's donations from the Carolina's Women's Shelter and Trots for Tots as well as St. Jude's. Josie's flower people are providing centerpieces - thank her for me on that, by the way. Literally a life saver..."

The list went on for ages. Hayden had to tune out lest her brain turn to mush. She did not look forward to aging into any of these groups, as would be expected of her. The politics of it all seemed so exhausting.

"And the RSVPs?" Azalea asked.

"Eighty-five percent response rate with seventy-two percent of those saying they'll be in attendance. We're calculating a little over four hundred now, five hundred on the day of the Gala itself."

"A very good turnout! That's even better than last year," Azalea cooed, pleased with their success. "Anyone notable?"

"Other than ourselves?" Mom joked, getting a titter out of Azalea. "The usual. Nicoletta said she would make an appearance as well, perhaps bring along a cousin or two so we could get some international press. Gen wanted to attend, but with all that's going on with Paris..."

"Yes, I saw," Azalea cooed, a distressed note in her voice. "So terrible, the poor girl. I can't imagine how she's dealing."

"Perhaps we could set up a donation box for the Paris Relief Fund?" Dante suggested.

"You're sweet, honey, but we wouldn't want to distract from the importance of The Hope Foundation," Azalea said with a smile, reaching over to pat his hand. "We can't save the world all at once. Just one cause atta time."

"We should let Gabbi attend."

The room went silent.

Hayden hadn't meant to say that out loud, but it was something she'd been thinking about, something that she couldn't shake ever since running into her sister with Titus. It wasn't fair that Gabbi was the only one not allowed to attend the gala. Gabbi's health had been relatively good for the past few months, and the increased lockdown because of all the Selected had clearly ruined what little good mental health she'd managed to cling onto. Gabbi needed this, and Hayden wanted her to be free, if only for a night.

"Darling, I appreciate what you're trying to do for your sister, but she's much too ill to attend such a gathering. Besides, she's not even of age to be out in society."

"It may be the only chance for her to meet Delia's suitors before her engagement," Hayden pointed out, not that Delia would care who met the guys she barely gave two shits about. "The public already thinks she's a ghost. We should give them proof that she's alive and well."

"She does have a point, Mom," Elodie said in a rare show of support. "Family solidarity could improve our public ratings and the credibility of this...less than credible Selection."

"It's not a good idea," Mom replied, still fixated on her fears of possible scenarios. "Her doctors have already said she's in much too fragile a state to introduce her to unknown bacteria and viruses. There will be international guests, celebrities, some of them elderly."

"Mom, Gabbi really needs this, okay? She's not doing well."

"What's wrong? I knew I shouldn't have rescheduled the cardiologist - "

"No Mom, she's not doing well mentally. This isolation is making her feel like a prisoner. She's depressed and trapped in her own house," Hayden explained, calming her mother to prevent an unnecessary 911 call. "I found her crying in the hall a few days ago. She said she was fine but anyone with eyes can see she's not."

"She's not said a word to me."

"Of course she wouldn't. She's trying to keep a brave face for you and Dad," Hayden said, watching Mom's resolve crumple in the face of her perceived failure. "I think we can let her out and taste some freedom for one night."

"You're a good sister, Hayden," Azalea praised, placing a comforting hand on Hayden's and giving it a squeeze.

"I'll think about it," Mom said finally, looking none too pleased but outvoted. "Dante, have you had any luck with securing some volunteers for the auction?"

"Yes," Dante replied, happy to move onto a topic that he could participate in. "I've spoken to some of the faculty at my med school, and they sent out a sign up sheet for anyone interested in participating. There was quite a lot of interest."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"And have you made any headway on what I suggested, Your Majesty?" Dante asked.

"I was hoping to run it by Azalea today."

"Oh?" Azalea asked, intrigued. She placed her tea cup back on its saucer and scooted to the edge of her seat. "Please share with the class."

"Mister Wallace-Chavaria has thoughts about making the Gala more accessible to the public."

"You see, Miss Stones, with increased accessibility, you can see as much as double your donations," Dante explained. "Part of the reason the Hope Gala's funds have remained stagnant these last five years is because a lot of the public doesn't know it exists. You only markets towards the upper classes on whose donations you solely rely. By opening up the Gala, you'll introduce a whole new donor pool."

"What a novel idea," Azalea gasped, her eyes alight.

There was more talk, but it was boring, all of it over Hayden's head. She was never funds-driven. Not like Auden who enjoyed crunching numbers and making sure the spread sheets were color coded. Hayden's bread and butter was the guest list, making sure the napkins matched, ensuring the seating arrangement wouldn't start wars between books clubs.

She tuned the whole thing out, busy studying her sister. Strangely enough, Elodie was distracted as well - with her phone of all things. Usually that thing was on do not disturb in her more important meetings. Did that mean a this wasn't a priority for the golden child?

If Hayden were more mischievous, she would lean over and try to read Elodie's messages. But she wasn't Delia. It didn't matter what Elodie did; she was likely trying to juggle two meetings at once in order to prove she wasn't losing her shit.

All that mattered was what Hayden blurted out next.

"Have you given any more thought about my proposition? From tea?"

Conversation ceased and all eyes landed on her. Mom's face went from pleasantly confused to irritated. The mood darkened and Hayden felt her heart rate pick up.

"I thought we'd dropped this, Hayden."

"I still think - "

"No. The answer remains no."

It hurt to be so thoroughly shut down. Mom rarely ever put her foot down on things. After a bit of prodding and puppy dog eyes, Hayden always got her way. Always.

"I've already invited Rhys Illéa," Hayden said in a great big rush. It was only half-true. She had said she'd invite Vesper, but as her plus-one. Now that Vesper was out of the picture, she could invite Rhys. Prove to him she wasn't ashamed to be seen with him. Improve public relations. Finally be taken seriously.

The room got quiet. Too quiet.

Mom didn't react, but that only meant bad things.

"Why on Earth would you do that?"

"Because I'm co-chair and he's done nothing wrong."

"You should have run this by me," Mom snapped, her knuckles white on her planner. "Co-chair or not this is a royal event and you are not a senior member of the family. You have no say - "

"I have every say!" Hayden shouted, tired of being ignored. This whole meeting she was just an accessory. Auden was gone, replaced by Elodie who didn't even want to be here. Dante was taking over her silent auction and almost all his ideas were accepted. It wasn't fair. "Why won't you trust me just this once?"

"Hayden, get out."

Hayden stopped, stunned. Tears stung at her eyes. She was...being thrown out?

"Mom - "

"I said get out. That's an order."

Twenty-two years of life and Hayden had never been spoken to like that, least of all from her own mother. It hurt more than she cared to admit. It hurt more than Auden, more than Vesper. It hurt most that not a single person in that office stood up for her.

Pride kept her from breaking down right then and there. Pride kept her from looking anyone in the eye as she gathered her things, kept her head held high, and slammed the office door shut behind her.

Only when she was safe behind her own bedroom doors did she finally fall apart.

.o.O.o.

The night was cold, too cold to wear a strapless dress, but Hayden was too distracted to be bothered by something as trivial as weather.

She'd thrown on the first clean thing in her closet. Only when she was in the car, rolling down the boulevard did she realize she'd grabbed one of Auden's dresses. Something Hayden'd bought her as a joke in the hopes of getting her out of the house, completely not Auden's style. Of course Auden left it behind. There was nothing in Hayden worth staying for.

The car pulled up on a familiar curb and Hayden didn't wait for it to stop before getting out, her breath puffing up in tiny clouds, the cool breeze a slap to the face. They'd done this song and dance before. The car would be here when she got back, no questions asked.

Inside, the humid laundromat smelled like bleach and the wet clothes drying on lines above one dryer with an 'out of order' sign taped to the front. The usual bouncer sat near the back, his arms crossed over his barrel chest. His dark, discerning eyes latched onto Hayden immediately, bushy brows quirking in surprise. It had been a while since she'd shown up here.

"Lovely night for a drive," the man said.

"Only if the big man's driving."

The man nodded and opened the door. This was when Hayden should have smiled her most winning smile, but she was too nervous. She moved quickly down the dark and narrow stairs to the basement.

Warm lights and the sound of laughter assaulted her senses. A singer crooned bluesy notes from the stage in the back, a pianist accompanying her in perfect harmony. Black leather booths were packed to the brim with chatty men and women, heads pushed together in joyful secrecy. Chandeliers sparkled, recently dusted. At the bar, dark wooden stools sat empty spotted with singles looking to get lucky - at least that never changed.

Hayden thought she recognized a famous couple at the booth in the corner, the woman some B-list actress sipping on her gin and tonic while her woman of the hour mouthed at her neck. Obscene. Hayden turned away, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

Had she and Rhys ever been caught so unaware?

At the end of the bar, his familiar figure stood stoic over a bourbon. The drink swirled in deft fingers, hardly touched. Beside him, in front of the empty stool, was a vodka martini clearly meant for her.

Feelings were such fickle things. Hayden's heard beat rapidly in her chest, overjoyed and terrified at once. She knew what she came here to do, what she needed to say, but it was so hard now that she had him in her sights. And he saw her. She knew he did. It was in the way he didn't look up when she took her place at his side, the way he didn't tense when she leaned in closer than a stranger would.

This night was long overdue.

"I hate that tie."

Rhys laughed. "We don't talk for weeks and that's what you decide to open with?"

His words were free from heat or malice, but they hurt anyway. Hayden always had such a soft, vulnerable underbelly, her pride so easily wounded. Vesper had found that underbelly and sunk those claws in deep, and Hayden had let her. All because she was too prideful to see what was right in front of her. For trusting her own 'instincts' over the man who knew Vesper best.

Comical, this need of hers to always be right, always have her way. What had it gotten her as of late? An angry mother and a distant lover?

"Is this the part where you say 'I told you so'?"

Rhys sighed. Finally, he turned to meet her gaze, those dark eyes enchanting and sad. "As much as I would like to, I'll refrain."

"Your sister is a piece of work."

"You don't know the half of it," he laughed dryly, taking a sip of his drink. He'd been drinking whiskey long enough that he smelled like it, but not to the point where it slurred his words. He was as sober as he could be given the circumstances, and Hayden wished she was just a little more drunk. "It's my fault for introducing you. I never should have done that. Everything that's happened because of it's on me."

It killed Hayden to see him so guilty, so eaten up by the sins of his sister.

It wasn't your fault, she wanted to say but couldn't. She couldn't bring herself to say the words because she couldn't bring her heart to speak them true. Her head could say that Rhys was innocent, that he was just as much a victim as Hayden was, but her heart ached with the knowledge that Rhys had brought a snake into her garden and let it poison her well.

"She was right, in some ways," Hayden said, studying the way the shadows played across Rhys's face. Half in darkness, half in light. "This relationship hurts you, doesn't it."

No need for questions, not when they were in this safe place. In places so small, so intimate, there weren't any need for masks. Anything said here was truth. That was their rule, the only one they'd both managed to keep. Besides, Rhys kept such an expressive face. Even his pain was beautiful in a way only an Illéa could be.

"I've never pretended to like being your dirty little secret."

"Then why go along with it? Why bother with me at all?"

"I thought that would be obvious." His smile twisted the knife in her gut, a well of anguish and devotion. "Because I love you, Hayden Schreave. And I know you hate to hear it, but it's the truth and I can't deny it."

Maybe it was the intimacy of this place that had always been theirs, maybe it was the heat of the moment or a combination of emotions too strong to ignore, but Rhys did something truly mad then. He got down on one knee, right there in the middle of the speakeasy, and pulled out a black velvet box. There was no speech or flowery words; they both weren't the type for that.

There was only the two of them in the low light and the breath that caught between them.

"Rhys..."

She was crying now, truly crying. The tears fell onto her lap, staining the silk of her dress darker where they fell. Hayden was such an ugly crier, but she couldn't get her hands to move, to wipe them off her cheeks. She was frozen in this moment, staring down at this man and this ring in this place that all felt a million miles away.

Say yes, say yes, say yes, her brain screamed.

She must have stayed silent for too long, because Rhys rose from the ground, graceful as a swan, and brushed off his pants.

"You don't have to answer now. Take your time and think about it." He folded his hand over the ring and pushed it gently towards her. "Regardless of your answer, the ring is yours to keep. I had it made specifically for you."

Hayden didn't know what to say. Her mouth was physically incapable of making words.

Rhys didn't stick around long enough for her to reply. He placed a couple bills on the counter, picked up his jacket off the back of his chair, and left.

.o.O.o.

The drive back to the palace was painful. The driver hadn't expected her back so soon; he nearly burnt himself on the end of his half-smoked cigarette at the sight of her. Technically it was against the rules to smoke on the job (made the cars less appealing to foreign guests, Mom said), but Hayden wasn't a narc. All the startled help had to do was violate traffic laws to get her to her bed as soon as possible.

It was going to take at least one or two bottles of wine to sort this out.

The box in her pocket was heavy - dense enough to burn a hole through the ground and drag her straight to Hell. That's where Hayden was going, after all, for leading Rhys on to the point where he thought marriage was a good idea.

It was crazy, right? Marriage between an Illéa and a Schreave? Their families would never let that happen. The universe would conspire against them and they'd both die terrible deaths before either of them could make it to the altar.

And yet...

Hayden's heart leapt at the sight of the ring. Her whole body sang at the idea of tying herself to Rhys. Starting a family. Everything she'd wanted and yet violently refused to think about. All because of their damn names.

Why did it matter so much what her family thought anyway? It wasn't like she cared much about her role as princess, the power and status in line for the throne. She'd never given that so much as a second thought.

An excuse she hid behind.

The car pulled up the drive and Hayden flung the door open and flew up the stairs, not bothering to wait for anyone to open her door or take her coat. She needed her heels off and a cucumber face mask pronto. And that glass of wine.

She opened her bedroom door and turned on the lights. Her fingers itched for her phone.

If only she could call -

"Auden?"

Hayden blinked twice. Perhaps it was a trick of the light? She could hardly believe her eyes.

But no. Her twin sister really was on her bed, legs tucked up and hair a mess, like nothing had changed.

"Hayden! Thank God!" Auden sobbed between huge, gulping breaths. Her cheeks were red and tear-streaked, like she'd been crying for ages. She reached for her and Hayden went immediately, running to Auden and scooping her up in her arms. It felt right to have her twin back where she belonged, like some piece of her had slotted back into place.

"What's going on?"

She pulled back when the sniffling subsided.

"Hayden..." Auden gripped Hayden's wrist hard enough to bruise. Her left hand was bare, no engagement ring in sight. She bit down on her lip, chapped and raw. "I think I've made a terrible mistake."