#liamrys

- Liam -

On Friday evening, no one was given a chance to see Riley. Different specialists checked her routinely, discussing their findings with one another. Liam asked politely at different times in the day if he would be allowed to speak to her for a few moments. They didn’t let him go in, claiming that the doctors needed their time to properly assess Riley’s condition.

A little before sunset, a sleep deprived, starving, agitated Liam marched up to Riley’s doctor and demanded they be given information about her health. 

The doctor leads him away from Riley’s door. Drake, Maxwell, and Bertrand follow. 

“I don’t know how much Riley Brooks’ mother has told you about her daughter’s condition,” the doctor states. “But rest assured that we are doing everything we can to help her recover.” 

“Really?” Drake spit. “All you’ve done is push different doctors into her room all day. From where we’re standing, none of them did anything—.”

“Please,” the doctor interrupts, holding up a hand. “Riley’s condition is very serious. She’s suffered a head injury. The procedure on Sunday morning was to repair a part of her skull and to stop internal bleeding. Since she’s woken up on Wednesday, we believe that she has something called post-traumatic amnesia.” 

“Which is?” Bertrand pesters.

“Short-term memory loss from the moment of her injury and for sometime afterwards. It can last from hours, to days, to weeks,” the doctor explains. 

“Short-term?” Liam forces out the words. “I’ve known that woman for the past eleven years. When I walked in she didn’t recognize me. I don’t believe that is what you call short-term.”

“Well... because you all came in and asked questions, whose answers you say that she should know, we believe that she may also be suffering from retrograde amnesia. She won’t be able to recall a significant number of events and persons from her past, even though all such events occurred before the incident and the development of the amnesia.”

“How long will that last?” Maxwell asks. 

“That part, we are unsure about,” the doctor states. “But, we’ve done some assessments and the post-traumatic amnesia seems to be wearing off. We think that the worst of it ended yesterday.” She pauses and looks at the men around her, analyzing their expressions. “We asked her about you folks—,” she gestures at the four men around her, “—her kids, her mother, and the detectives who came in to ask her questions yesterday, she said she didn’t remember a thing. We believe that’s the end to the PTA,  but we’re going to run a couple more tests to make sure.” 

Liam’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach. When he moves back towards the chairs in front of Riley’s hospital room, he goes involuntarily: his shoulders slump and his head hangs low as he throws himself onto a seat. He buries his face in his hands, desperate for this feeling — this keen, despicable sense of despair, one he thought he had forgotten long ago — to end, once and for all.

“So we are nothing to her once more?” Bertrand breathes, the corners of his mouth pulled downwards.

The doctor sighs. “Unfortunately, yes, but again, we believe that’s the last of her short-term memory issues. On the case of retrograde amnesia, patients who have suffered a Traumatic Brain Injury don’t suffer from long-term memory loss for a great amount of time. If I were you, I would still have hope.” She pats Bertrand’s arm. 

A nurse sitting at the reception desk calls to the doctor: “Doc? You’re needed in the ICU.”

“I’ll be back,” she says, and then turns to leave.

Drake, Maxwell, and Bertrand join Liam and take a seat. Each of them has to force themselves to not look through Riley’s room window. If they looked, the pain would multiply. The bandages on her head and the empty, lost look on her face reminded them how she had slipped from their grasp again, even though she was right in front of them. 

After a few moments of watching doctors and nurses walking in and out of Riley’s room, Drake suggests to Liam, “Why don’t we go to the hotel tonight? Get some food in you. Rest for a bit. We’ll be back in the morning, soon as visiting hours start up again.”

“Your Majesty, I think that would be for the best,” Bertrand adds. “It isn’t healthy for you to be going on without sleep and food for so long.” 

“C’mon, Liam,” Maxwell joins in. “Bertrand and I will go with you guys.”

Liam rubs his hand over his face. The rest of them notice his red eyes, unshaven face, and how pink the edges of his mouth are. Silently nodding, he stands, and his friends follow him out of the hospital.

...

As soon as he got inside his hotel room, Liam collapsed on the bed, physically and emotionally exhausted. He didn’t dream; instead he dove into a blank abyss from which he returned from in what felt like no more than eight minutes.

When he woke up, it was already nine thirty. His mind urged him to get up and go back to Riley’s hospital bed, but his feet felt sore and his eyes burned when he opened them. He managed to kick off his shoes and shrug off his clothes on his way to the bathroom. He almost fell asleep in the shower, but the warm beating of water on his face gave him the energy he needed to get back to Riley. 

While he puts on some new clothes, there’s a heavy knock on the door. When he goes to open it, Drake holds up two large paper bags and two cups of coffee in a drink carrier. “New York bagels,” he says, handing Liam a bag. 

“Thank you, Drake.” Liam sits on the edge of his bed and dives into the large bagel, his stomach desperate for some food after having starved himself the past three days. Drake puts his friend’s coffee on the bedside table and opens up his own bag.

“I’d say I didn’t know you were that hungry,” Drake chuckles, shaking his head, “but looking at you now, I can tell you haven’t eaten in days.”

Liam’s already done with more than half his bagel. “Truly, I didn’t realize, either.” He takes a long sip of his coffee. “I’ve been so focused on Riley, making sure she’s been getting proper attention... and what I would say to her, given the chance.” Liam stares down at the floor with his meal in his hands while Drake continues eating.

Noticing Liam from the corner of his eye, Drake tells Liam, “Riley wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself.” 

Liam scoffs. 

“I’m serious. Just because something happened to her doesn’t mean she’d want you to hurt yourself, too.” 

They sit in quiet for a few more moments while they finish their meal.

Drake sends a text over to Maxwell, letting the Beaumonts know that him and Liam were on their way back to the hospital, when someone else knocks on the door. “Your Majesty?”

“Come in, Bastien,” Liam allows while he puts his shoes back on. 

Bastien walks in and regards Drake and Liam for a moment. “Your Majesty.” Bastien clears his throat. “Riley’s mother, Charlotte, will be at the hospital today with her grandchildren.” 

Liam stiffens for a moment. Her grandchildren. Riley’s children with Theodore Blaise. He must have been a worthy man to have deserved her.

“Great.” Drake sighs. “I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but she doesn’t seem to be a big fan of our’s.”

“Will she be visiting Riley?” Liam questions. 

“That is... part of the reason they are going,” Bastien continues.

“Ah, she also works there, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, but she doesn’t work today.”

“Then... what is she going for?” Liam notices the look of reserve on Bastien’s face. “Is everything alright? Did something happen to the children?”

“Not exactly,” Bastien begins. “To be frank, the boy, Gabriel, will be of our concern today.”

“What does that mean?” Drake walks closer to Bastien.

Bastien sighs. “On Thursday evening, the Duke of Ramsford alerted me that he believes Gabriel Blaise is actually your son.”

Liam stands. “What?” he spits. 

“He is ten years of age and his birthday was recently. It aligns with the time that you and Lady Riley were having an... intimate relationship.”

Liam blinks. “She... she....” He looks around the room in a daze, his mind blurred with memories of Riley during the Engagement Tour. Could she really have been pregnant? How did I not notice? Why didn’t she tell me? 

She wouldn’t have done that. She knows how much I’ve wanted a family. He breathes in heavy air, his eyes burning. She wouldn’t have done that to me, she wouldn’t have taken that from me.

Did I break her so badly that she wanted to keep my own son away from me?

“Your Majesty?”

Taking a moment to calm himself, Liam states, “Bastien, that is absurd.”

But is it? If she got pregnant around the end of the social season, or even some time during the Engagement Tour, she would have had the child around this time of year.... 

“Your Majesty, the only way to be certain is to take a paternity test. Charlotte Brooks agreed to bring the child to have it done today.”

“The hospital does paternity tests?” Drake asks. 

“I contacted them, and they said they only did genetic testing, but they recommended me to a lab center in Brooklyn.” Bastien holds out a piece of paper with the lab’s name on it. “I’ve alerted Mrs. Brooks, and have sent a car for her and the children so they would arrive safely.”

Brooklyn. Where we saw Riley for the first time all those years ago.

Liam nods, his head and heart still shaking with the thought that him and Riley had a son. Cordonia had an heir. For the past eleven years he believed that he would never become a father, but all this time, he already was one....

While they walk downstairs, Bastien explains that Charlotte Brooks gave permission on Riley’s behalf to have the paternity test done due to her condition, and went to get a DNA sample of her daughter this morning to increases the validity of the test and to make sure Gabriel will be tested accurately. 

Liam sits quietly, simply nodding at everything Bastien said. No matter how much he wanted to believe that there was a chance Riley’s son was his, he didn’t want to think about all the complications that would come about from the test being positive.

And how she never told him. He believed he deserved a life without Riley after all he had done to her, but had the bombing never happened, had Riley never gotten hurt — had her damned husband never died — would she have ever come back to tell him that he was a father? Would she have let him continue to live a life in ignorance?

The boy is ten years old. He experienced ten years of life without me. I experienced ten years of life without him. Did she think I couldn’t handle fatherhood? Did she think I wouldn’t take on the responsibility? What did I do so wrong? Why did she marry Theodore? I ended my engagement because of her, and she married another man to act as the father of my child?

Liam’s frustration and despair were increasing exponentially, and they were nearing the lab. he decided that whether the test came out positive or negative, he wouldn’t allow Gabriel to see his frustration. There must have been a reason Riley did such a thing. He would continue to hope that she would get a chance to explain. In the meantime, that child was was still Riley’s; the mere fact that there was another being on this planet who held even the slightest amount of Riley’s personality or looks made Liam’s heart swell. His son or not, he would protect both of Riley’s children in every way he didn’t protect Riley.

- Gabriel -

Grandma scheduled Ella to have a private ballet lesson on Saturday morning. I thought she was gonna let me take a private soccer lesson, but instead she brings me to Brooklyn in a car that wasn’t her’s or Dad’s. When we get to a small building, Liam and Drake were inside waiting with another man I didn’t recognize. I wondered why they were here, since Mom was back in the hospital. Liam smiled at me and I smiled back, deciding that I would just ask Grandma about it later. 

Drake stayed behind while the rest of us were led into a room that looked like the inside of a doctor’s office: there was an examination table that Grandma told me to sit on, and another longer table were there was a jar of pens.

Two men came in: one wore a professional suit with a bunch of papers that Grandma and Liam started signing on the flat table, while the second one had a lab coat on who took out a very long Q-Tip and walked towards me. I give Grandma a questioning look, but she pats my arm and tells the man, “Go ahead.” 

He dragged the stick against the inside of my cheek. Then he put the Q-Tip in a little tube and then takes out another Q-Tip and repeats the whole process with Liam. I wonder if he’s about to do the same thing with Grandma, but instead she pulls out a tube from her purse and the man takes his three tubes and leaves.

The second man with all the papers is still here, looking over his bushy eyebrows at everything Liam and Grandma just signed. Liam and his friend look over expectantly at Grandma, who pulls out a piece of paper. 

“The birth certificate?” says Liam’s friend. 

Wait, is that mine? Or his? Or Grandma’s?

“Yes.” She hands him the paper and he begins to look over it. 

Both men furrow their brows. Liam’s head jumps back in confusion. 

"Full name,” begins Liam’s friend. “Gabriel Liam Blaise. Mother, Riley Brooks Blaise.... Why is the spot of father empty?”

“It’s allowed in the U.S.,” says Bushy Eyebrows. “If the mother is married to someone who is not the father, or if the father was not at the birth and did not sign and send in an Acknowledgement of Paternity form, then the name of the father is left blank on the certificate.” 

“Riley was already married to Theodore by the time Gabriel was born,” Grandma explains, “which is why the last name is Blaise. She thought that it wouldn’t be appropriate to have his last name be Rys since she planned to pass Gabe off to the public as Theodore’s. But she still put your first name as his middle name. It was her way of connecting you both, since neither of you knew of the other’s existence.”

Grandma takes a moment and scans the men’s shaken faces — even Bushy Eyebrows glances between everyone with wide eyes. Liam looks like he’s mixed between anger and sadness. His friend continues to examine the paper.

“As far as I know,” Grandma states, “Gabriel is your son.”

At this point, I have absolutely no idea what was going on. Grandma never explained anything to me before we got here, and now I was too scared to speak up and ask questions. 

A part of me thought that she was giving me away since Dad had died. But she had told Liam that I was her son? Did that mean he was my father? But I didn’t even know who he was? And what about Ella? Was Grandma going to give me away and then keep my sister? Would I never see her again? Could Grandma not take care of us by herself since Mom was in the hospital? 

“Do you know why Riley never told me?” Liam asks Grandma, his voice breaking.

“Oh, she tried to,” Grandma reveals. “But only once, I believe. Riley didn’t tell me anything about it, but as far as I know, it didn’t go down well.”

Liam looks down at the floor, then pushes his shoulders back and looks at Grandma. “If the test comes back positive, then I will have to present him as my heir to the people of Cordonia.”

Grandma frowns, and she looks offended. I half expect her and Liam to start arguing, but Liam’s friend says, “Perhaps it will be best to discuss the specifics when the results come back. They told me it usually takes three to five business days, but I have made sure that this will be their top priority, and we could possibly get the results back before Monday or Tuesday.” 

Bushy Eyebrows stands, shaking everyone’s hands but mine, and then leaves. We all walk out of the building together. Liam and Grandma nod at one another, and Liam gives me a pat on the back before getting in the car with Drake and his other friend.

Grandma and I get into our car and drive away, on our way to pick up Ella from her class. 

“Grandma?” I begin. I wanted to know what happened in there. I wanted to know if my family was really getting rid of me. “What was all that for?” 

She sighs. “Nothing for you to worry about right now, baby. I promise in a couple of days I’ll explain everything to you and Ella, but right now there’s nothing to worry about.”

“But Grandma, I... I... why did you tell the man that I was his son? Did you say that because Dad died? I thought I was Dad’s son. Grandma please, I’m so confused.” A couple tears fall from my eyes as my chest tightens. If those guys take me away while Mom is in the hospital, will I ever see her again? Will I ever see Ella or Grandma again? I didn’t want to go anywhere with those men. I didn’t even know them until Wednesday, and I still don’t technically know them.

“Gabriel—!” The sting of her tone shuts me up, and I lean back into my seat, doing my best not to cry. 

- Maxwell - 

“If it be true that thee shall not cease insulting mine own family nameth, then I dare thee to a battleth!”

“A hurlyburly thee sayeth? Well, then I'll seeth thee on the dueling ground!”

“Ah, but this isn't a normal battleth, because I dare thee to a breakdance hurlyburly!” 

“But I knoweth not how to doth the breaketh danceth!”

“Thou art a blinking idiot, and were bound to loseth!” 

“Uncle Max, why do I always have to play the character that loses?” Bartie tosses his copy of the script on the coffee table. 

“Because I’m the one with the killer dance moves!” Maxwell strikes a pose. “You only get to where I am after a lifetime of practice, muffin, and you’ve still got a long way to go.”

“But can’t you lose to me at least once?” Bartie picks up the booklet and starts flipping through the pages. “Like how you pretended to lose to Count Appleton in a rap battle, but then won against him in another rap battle in the next scene!”

“That was to catch him off-guard! I gained his trust and then his respect,” Maxwell argues

“Don’t you want my character’s trust and respect?”

“Your character keeps insulting my character’s family name!” Maxwell cries.

“Whatever.” He throws the booklet back down. “I’m going go to my room for a little while.” 

“Wanna run through your fork placement again?” 

“No, I’m okay. I’ve got it down. Thank you, though.” Bartie heads up the stairs towards his room.

“I’ll see you at dinner, muffin,” Maxwell calls. He plops onto the couch and begins to reread his script as Savannah walks into the room. 

“So how was rehearsal?” she questions. “Did you get a chance to teach Bartie that move you were talking about?”

He shakes his head. “No, we didn’t get to it. Don’t think the little muffin is interested in breakdancing, so I won’t bother him anymore.” 

Savannah doesn’t say anything. Maxwell had started working on his breakdance opera years ago after he tried to finish his novel but then gave up on it, claiming the topic was too depressing. He tried his best to get Bartie interested in his opera, even though Bertrand said it wasn’t appropriate for a boy of his status to be learning how to breakdance instead of perfecting the Cordonian Waltz. In the beginning, Bartie was thrilled that he got to spend more time with his Uncle Maxwell, but as time went on the boy became bored and started to look more towards Uncle Drake for some fun — which Bertrand thought was even more inappropriate (”My boy should be learning how to properly host the royal family, not learning how cut wood or put up a tent!”), though he allowed it after Savannah insisted — and so Maxwell felt increasingly alone at Ramsford.

He could spend some time with Liam and Drake in the capital, but both men were so closed off lately that the air around them would become stifling. He wanted to plan a trip to Shanghai so the Beaumonts could visit Hana, but Bertrand was always so caught up with maintaining the estate — and he never let Maxwell help him — that a moment to relax as a family was uncommon. 

At dinner, Bartie half-heartedly explained to his father how his lessons had gone. Bertrand asked Bartie if he wanted to do some work with him tonight, just to get a feel of what it was like to run the estate, but Bartie simply shrugged and walked off without finishing his dinner. 

Bertrand was about to go after him and demand Bartie to return to his seat, but Savannah put a hand on his shoulder and told her husband to let the boy go. 

“He’s not feeling too well lately,” she reasoned. “Let him go. If he wants to talk to us he will.” 

“There is no reason for him to be behaving in such a manner. I will remind him tomorrow morning, and I will make sure he sits with me... he needs to learn how to run the house sooner or later, and the former would be most preferable.” Bertrand took a sip of his wine. 

Even though House Beaumont’s finances had improved tremendously over time, Bertrand was still obsessed with keeping everything in order, almost desperate to make sure there was no chance of any sort of decline happening again. He wouldn’t hear anyone who tried to tell him that he should take a break or loosen up a little.

“Go easy on him,” Maxwell suggests. “He’s been working really hard on his lessons and barely gets any time to go outside.”

“He needs to spend his time learning all he can so he can be a reputable duke when the time comes!”

“Bertrand, please,” Savannah says. “He’s just having a couple bad days. It’s normal.” 

Bertrand sighs. “I don’t understand why he feels this way. Just last week he was fine. What happened now?”

“He went to Drake’s this weekend, so maybe he misses him,” Savannah speculates. 

“I’ll call him up later,” Maxwell declares. “It’s been a while since I’ve talked to my old pal. I kinda miss him, too.”

The three finish their meal in quiet, but Maxwell sits impatiently for the moment he could jump up and go call Drake. 

After their plates were taken away, Maxwell said his good nights to Savannah and Bertrand and raced up the stairs towards Bartie’s room.

He knocks on the door and waits for Bartie to unlock it. “Yes?” Bartie says. 

“I thought we could give Uncle Drake a call! It’s been a couple days since you’ve seen him and it’s been a while since I’ve talked to him.”

“It’s barely been two days,” Bartie scoffs. “But alright, I guess.”

Bartie goes to sit next to Maxwell on the edge of the bed and leans in while they wait for Drake to answer the FaceTime call. 

He declines the call. Maxwell calls again, Drake declines again.

“Maybe he’s busy?” Bartie wonders aloud.

“It’s more likely that he just doesn’t want me bothering him.” Maxwell’s phone vibrates. “He texted me!”

On flight. Will call in morning.

“He’s traveling? Where? Do you think His Majesty sent him away again?” Bartie asks.

“I don’t really know. Hopefully he’ll keep his promise and call back in the morning. Until then there’s not much we can do.” Maxwell sighs and stands up, ruffling Bartie’s hair. “Good night, muffin. Sleep well.”

In his room, Maxwell lays in bed thinking of all the places Drake could be going. Olivia was the one who led independent investigations and never told anything to anyone else until she was sure of what she had, so it was unlikely Drake had gone to find something upon her suggestion. Maxwell had tried to reach out to Riley through social media, but soon after he contacted her, she’d deleted all of her accounts, blocked his number, and blocked his email — then when they tried to trace her number through Olivia’s phone, they reached a dead end. 

Drake on the other hand, did work together with Maxwell and Olivia, but also with the division of the King’s Guard that Liam had made to search for Riley. Their king was constantly sending out people to thoroughly examine every place that yielded even the smallest hint of a lead. Rarely was anything found, and when it was, it was either useless or highly questionable.

Recently, they were having difficulty finding new leads — they had already checked so many places around the world that it was hard to think of any place they may have disregarded. That was when Liam and Drake started distancing themselves even further. Maxwell knew they usually spent time together near the end of the week, but when Drake suggested Bartie visit over the weekend, Maxwell knew that both men had started losing hope.

The next morning during another quiet meal, Maxwell noticed Savannah stealing glances at her son.

“Did Uncle Drake call you back yet?” Bartie directed his question towards Maxwell.

“No,” Maxwell said, his mouth stuffed with blueberries and waffles. “I’ll check in on him in a few.” 

Bertrand continued the conversation by telling everyone what he planned to do for the rest of the day. Maxwell could tell that he was trying to get Bartie to want to work with him. He was glad Bertrand wasn’t pushing Bartie too much, and was sure that Savannah had probably talked to him about it last night.

After breakfast, Maxwell gave Drake a call, but it went straight to voicemail. Maxwell left a message asking Drake to get back to him. 

In an attempt to get Bartie out of the house before his tutor showed up, Maxwell went to his door and tried to persuade his nephew to go on a jog with him.

“Maybe later,” Bartie called out from inside his room. “I’m a little tired right now.”

Some time after noon, Drake still hadn’t called back. Finishing his lunch, Maxwell decides to give Drake a call to make sure everything was alright.

The phone rings for so long Maxwell thinks Drake isn’t going to answer, but then hears his voice from the other side: “Hey, Maxwell.”

“Drake!” Maxwell shouts. “What’s happening? You said you’d call this morning but then you didn’t.”

“Sorry about that,” Drake’s voice doesn’t seem directed at Maxwell, who can tell that he’s distracted. “Got caught up.” There’s people talking in the background, but Maxwell can’t tell who it is or what they’re saying.

“So where did you fly off to?” he asks. 

Drake doesn’t answer. The people in the background keep talking. After a few seconds, Drake’s voice is more purposeful when he says to Maxwell, “Listen. Liam and I are in New York. We’re with Riley.”

The rest of Drake’s monologue cuts out as her name echoes through Maxwell’s mind. 

Riley? Our Riley? They found little blossom? How long has it been? Ten years? Almost eleven? Feels like a hundred.

Are they there to bring her back? Does she even want to come back? Would she want to see me, the person who set in motion the series of events that led to her name being dragged through the mud, to her disappearance, to heartbreak?

“New York?” Maxwell finally brings himself to speak through the lump in his throat. “Little blossom’s in New York? When did you find out?”

“Like I said, we found out just last night.” Maxwell didn’t want to mention that he wasn't listening when Drake had said that. 

“Is... is she alright? Have you talked to her? What did she say?”

“Pay attention, Maxwell,” Drake scolds through his teeth.

“I was paying attention! But if you would be so kind as to repeat what you said....”

“She was visiting a museum and there was a bomb. She’s in New York Presbyterian, and we’re here, too. She got a serious head injury and had surgery on Sunday. Her legs are pretty beat up, but the doctor says some rest will help her get back on her feet within a few weeks.”

“Where is she?” Maxwell yells. “Are you with her?”

Drake sighs. “No, not at the moment. The doctor and a nurse checked her and said they wanted to take her for another CT scan to see if there was anything they might have overlooked.”

“So you... you didn’t speak to her at all?”

“I didn’t, no, but Liam did before they took her away. He won’t tell me what she said.”

“So she is talking, right? She’s alright, technically? Nothing permanent?”

“I don’t know, Maxwell. I’ll let you know what happens when they bring her back.”

“Let me talk to her. I want to see my little blossom,” Maxwell requests. Drake says something, but his voice is far away. He’s talking to someone else, and doesn’t bring the phone back to his ear. “Drake? Hello?”

The line disconnects. Maxwell stands there, shocked. His feet were rooted in place as he stares down at his phone. 

Did they really find Riley? If they did, could they convince her to return?

I was the one who convinced her to come to Cordonia in the first place. I should be there helping bring her back.

“BERTRAND!” Maxwell shrieks, running out the room towards the study.

“What happened?” Savannah screams as Maxwell flies past her. 

“BERTRAND!” he calls again, announcing his arrival.

When he opens the door to the study, Bertrand is on the phone, staring at Maxwell with a grim face. “My apologies, sir, but I will have to call you back,” he says to the person on the other end, hanging up. He stands. “What on Earth was that Maxwell? I’m on an important phone call and you come dashing in, screeching my name like a banshee! Do you understand how incompetent that looks?”

Maxwell knows he’s about to be at the receiving end of another one of Bertrand’s never-ending lectures, but he doesn’t care. He’s jittery and out of breath, but in between pants manages to say, “Liam and Drake found Riley. They’re with her right now. We have to go.”

Stunned, Bertrand takes a step back. “Riley?! Uh, er... Lady Riley?” He clears his throat, composing himself, but can’t get the words out. “They’ve... they’ve.... Where is she? His Majesty is with her?”

“In New York. Yes, he's there with Drake.” 

Bertrand blinks. He finally manages a solemn voice and asks, “She is well, I hope?”

Maxwell shakes his head. Moments pass, with Bertrand deep in thought. Maxwell worries about what his brother will say next.

“Everything alright in here?” Savannah walks in. “Saw Maxwell run past and wanted to make sure that nothing was wrong.” 

“His Majesty and Drake have found Lady Riley.” Bertrand’s voice is more prominent now.

“What?” Savannah brings a hand over her mouth.

Confidently, he declares, “Maxwell and I will be joining them in New York as soon as possible. I am sorry to leave you and Bartie, my dear,” he sighs, “but we must go. She is still House Beaumont, after all.”

After a moment, Savannah says, “We’ll come with you. I want to see her, too, and I know Bartie would enjoy the trip.” 

Bertrand’s mind is already racing, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell his wife that he wants her to stay here. She seemed certain of herself, and so he would not dissuade her. “Alright then,” he replies.

“Aw yeah!” Maxwell cries. “Family vacation!” 

“Yes, yes, now go pack,” Bertrand commands. “I’ll prepare a flight for us. We must go quickly. Time is of the essence.”

... 

On the flight, Maxwell and Bertrand anxiously look out of their windows. Savannah talks to Bartie about the appeals of New York — after him and his mother had come back from Paris, the family had never taken Bartie out of Cordonia, and since Bertrand was persistent in having Bartie receive his education at the hands of tutors, the boy was never given the time to travel with his family, nor did he have any friends who could either relate to him or tell him tales of their travels.

Eventually, Bartie gets tired and takes a nap. Maxwell feels tired as well, but the excitement to see Riley again doesn’t stop sending jolts through his body. They were so close to her. So close to having her with them, and having everything be the way it should have been from the beginning.

Hours later, he wakes up Bartie and tells him that they’ve landed.

Once they’re out of the airport, Bertrand manages to tag down a driver. They drop off Savannah and Bartie at the hotel where they got a last minute reservation. When Maxwell and Bertrand are outside the hospital, Maxwell jumps out of the car and races inside. 

“Maxwell!” Bertrand calls in a stiff whisper. Maxwell slows down and matches Bertrand’s pace. They walk up to the receptionist, who’s having a discussion with a doctor. They wait for her to notice them, and after a few moments Maxwell debates running off to try and find Riley’s room himself, but Bertrand clears his throat and asks, “Excuse me, could either one of you direct me towards Miss Riley Brooks? She’s a patient here, I believe.”

The doctor looks up. “Are one of you her designated support person?”

“No, not exactly—.”

“We’re family.” Maxwell chimes in. “We just heard what happened and flew in from Europe.”

“Visiting hours are over,” the doctor says. “You fellas can come back at nine in the morning. ‘Til then I can’t help you.” 

“You will tell me where she is or you will face the wrath of House Beaumont’s lawyers!” Bertrand shouts.

“Beaumont? That your last name?” the doctor interrogates.

“Yes and—.”

“The lady’s last name is Brooks. Clearly, you guys aren’t family. I’m gonna need you two to leave. Unless you want me to get security?”

Bertrand looks at the doctor, fuming, ready to give him the worst tongue lashing the man has ever experienced, but someone grips his and Maxwell’s shoulders. 

“They’re with me, Doc,” Drake says. “I’ll take them to Miss Brooks and there’ll be no more trouble. Sorry for the inconvenience.” 

Drake leads the two of them away from reception and towards the ICU. 

“Drake!” Maxwell exclaims, putting an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Thanks for that. We really needed it.” 

“Yes,” Bertrand adds. “It was much appreciated. Now, where is Lady Riley?”

“Did they find everything alright after the CT scan?” Maxwell asks. 

Drake sighs. “Riley’s asleep right now. Today must have been stressful for her, I imagine. You guys can talk to her in the morning.” 

Maxwell is about to repeat his question when he notices Liam sitting in the ICU waiting room, looking at the floor. “Liam!” he calls. 

When Liam looks up, Maxwell looks in shock at his red, swollen eyes. 

“What happened?” Maxwell breathes. The air in his lungs is suddenly painful.

“She—,” he looks back down and speaks slowly, as if every word sent a stab to his chest. “She didn’t remember me. She looked me right in the eye and asked me who I was.” His voice cracks, and he puts his head in his hands.

Maxwell takes a seat next to Liam, but says nothing. Bertrand stands in shock, staring at his king breaking down. Brows furrowed in confusion, he looks at Drake. “What does that mean?”

“She lost her memory.” Drake answered in a quiet voice. Every word seemed to break him. “The doctors didn’t tell us everything, but they told us that they doubted she even knew who she was. After they brought her from the CT scan and explained everything to her, she started crying. Her mother was there, too. She’s actually a nurse here. They’ve decided to question her tomorrow, to try and figure out what she remembers and doesn’t remember. Some detectives are also coming in to question a couple victims. They’re hoping to find some information, or at least something that’ll help them connect some dots.”

“Little blossom doesn’t know who we are?” Maxwell asks, as his shoulders begin to shake. 

Bertrand manages to maintain his composure, though his voice cracks a couple times when he says, “Well. There’s nothing... there’s um... nothing we can do at the moment.” He clears his throat. “Have you two been able to acquire any accommodations?”

Liam sits up, his face wet. “Yes.” He sniffles. “Though we haven’t actually been to the hotel yet. We’ve been here for... oh, a little less than ten hours.”

“Your Majesty I believe it would be wise to spend the night at the hotel and rest. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day. Perhaps the doctors will let us ask questions as well.”

"Thank you, Duke Bertrand, but I would rather stay. Drake, if you want, you can go and get some sleep. I'm sure you need it. I'll be fine right here."