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The Royal Romance: Cinderfella's Adventures in Cordonia - Chapter Six

Summary:

Bastien and Liam finally learn the shocking truth about Callum’s life in America.

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Bastien silently follows Callum into his bedroom and waits as the door clicks shut behind them.

“You have questions about Brody?” Callum asks as he brushes by on his way to sit on the bed.  

Bastien opens his mouth to speak then pauses, momentarily distracted by the sight of Callum’s nipple rings and the black and grey ink snaking down his torso. The tattoo is truly a work of art, a tapestry of leaves, thorny vines, and blooming roses, that begins on Callum’s neck, then trails down to cap his shoulder and flow over his shoulder blade before weaving back around his body to trail down his ribs.  The roses flow beautifully with the lines of his body and Bastien blushes when he realizes the tattoo continues further down, over the curve of Callum’s hip, until it disappears beneath the cotton of his sweats.

Callum snickers.  “Eyes up here, old man.”

“I’m not that old,” Bastien growls, looking down at the carpet as Callum pulls on a hoodie and falls back onto his bed.

“Come on and pop a squat.”  Callum pats the mattress.  “It’s a long story and I know old people can’t stand for a long time.”  

He hesitantly sits on the edge of the mattress and looks over at Callum with a sigh.  “Have you told Liam that you were engaged?”

“It’s not like we’ve had a lot of time alone together.”  Callum shrugs.  “And that’s not that kind of bomb you drop on someone in front of twenty other people.”

“You should have told him that he wasn’t the first high profile person you’ve been involved with.”  Bastien’s voice is stern.

“Brody is not high profile!”  Callum raises his voice.  “We had a normal life.”

“You’re not naïve, Callum.  The grandson of former Secretary of Defense Jonathan Cunningham and the son of Senator Jackson Cunningham, who is now on the short list of vice presidential candidates, is very high profile.”  

“We had a normal life,” Callum repeats softly.  “We were so far removed from the political world… he didn’t even have bodyguards the last year and a half we were together because they knew I could protect him.”

“And how did you learn to do that?” Bastian asks suspiciously.

Callum smirks half-heartedly.  “You haven’t figured out who my Pops is yet, huh?”

 Bastien rubs a hand over his mouth pensively.  “Fuck,” he mutters.  “Is that news going to be worse than finding out about the Cunningham boy?”

  A shrug.  “Depends on your perspective about a few different things, I guess.”

“Jesus, Callum!”

“What?”  Callum glares at the bodyguard.  “What do you want me to say?”

“You shouldn’t even be here,” Bastien sighs.

Callum slides off the bed and stares at him, hurt.

“Shit.  I didn’t mean it like that.”  The older man holds his hands up placatingly.  “I meant, that if anyone else but me had seen this report you would already be out on your pretty little ass.”

“You think my ass is pretty?”  Callum grins, unable to help himself.

“I’m serious, Callum!”

           “That’s not a ‘no’.”  Another flirty grin.

“Callum.”  Bastien’s tone is flinty.

Callum drops back down onto the mattress with a sigh.  “So… what now?”

Bastien sits silently for several moments.  Finally he says, “You need to tell Liam.  Whatever his decision is, I will respect it.  If he says you can stay, then we keep this a secret.  If he says you need to leave, then you leave quietly.”

“Deal,” Callum immediately replies.

Bastien stands up with a huff.  “Come on then, let’s get this over with.”

“What?  Right now?” Callum squeaks.

Bastien raises his eyebrows.  “Is that a problem?”

After a moment Callum shakes his head.  “No.  No, you’re right.  Let’s go rip this band aid off.”

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I sink back into my pillows with a happy sigh, unable to stop smiling.  This truly had been a wonderful day; even Madeline and my parents had been unable to ruin it.  By all accounts Callum had completely charmed the press and was even making progress with many of the nobles.  I turn on my side and hug a pillow to my stomach.

Callum.

I’d been worried about his chilly attitude when he joined Drake and me at the races, but once he told me his point of view I felt like a complete bastard.  Once again I let my father get into my head and dictate another important aspect of my life.  If he had cost me Callum I don’t know that I would ever have forgiven him.

He doesn’t understand.  It’s not like he married Regina for love.  But Callum is different.  Special.  And don’t I deserve to be happy?  Just this once.

I sigh again, troubled by thoughts of my father.  I try to shake off the dark thoughts, thinking about my time with Callum instead.  The way his lips feel under mine.  How it feels when his large hand encompasses my smaller one.  The way he instantly moved to protect me when Bastien surprised us, putting his body between me and a potential threat.  His fantastic, outrageous sense of humor and that incredible smile.

I didn’t know it was possible to fall so hard, so fast.

Rhythmic knocking on my door draws me out of my daydreams, and I frown as I notice the time on my phone.  

“Hey, darlin’,” Callum greets me as I open the door, his smile not as bright as usual.  I’m further confused when I see Bastien standing next to him.

“Is something wrong?” I ask worriedly.

The two men look at each other and then back to me.

“I guess that depends on your definition of wrong,” Callum tries to joke.

“Yes, Your Highness.  We need to discuss Mr. MacKenzie’s background report,” Bastien firmly tells me.

Callum casts his eyes down to the floor and shies away from Bastien like a kicked puppy.  The hurt look on his face causes my stomach to twist, so I reach out and take his hand, drawing him to my side.

“Whatever it is we’ll figure it out, Troublemaker,” I murmur, rubbing his arm soothingly.  I turn back to my bodyguard.  “Come in so we can discuss this.”

They file behind me as I lead them to the fireplace, Callum sinking onto the loveseat while Bastien and I sit in the two wingback chairs across from him.

“Tell me what’s happening.  What’s wrong with his background report, Bastien?”  I ask, eager to resolve this and hopefully get some more time with Callum before morning.

Bastien gives him a pointed look and Callum begins picking at a stray thread on his sweats.

“I don’t really know where to start,” Callum finally whispers.

“I found that the beginning is always best,” I gently tell him.

His lips quirk up into a small smile before a pensive look comes over his face.  “Liam… I was engaged.  It ended about a year ago.”

What?

I blink rapidly, shock quickly giving way to a nearly painful jealousy.  I quickly push the emotion down, willing myself to be logical and remember that it happened long before Callum and I ever met.

His eyes flicker hesitantly to my face before quickly darting away.  “My fiancé was um… Brody Cunningham.”

The name tickles something in my subconscious but for the life of me I can’t recall where I’ve heard it before.  

“Brody is the son of United States Senator Jackson Cunningham and grandson of former United States Secretary of Defense Jonathan Cunningham,” Bastien helpfully supplies.

“What?!”  The pieces fall into place as I remember the various news articles I’ve read about the Cunningham family.  Jonathan found great success as a private military contractor in the eighties after an exceptional career in the Navy and parlayed that success into politics.  His son Jackson has followed suit with an equally successful stint in the Navy, taking over his father’s company as Jonathan’s political career took off, eventually beginning his own foray into the American government a few years later.  I gnaw my lower lip as I try to remember the few things I’ve read about Brody.  Graduated at the top of his law class, then joined a very successful law firm.  I frown as I remember one of the pictures accompanying an article on the impressive family.  Brody has been smaller that his father and grandfather, almost delicate, with honey blonde hair and large brown eyes.  The niggling feeling of jealousy comes back full force.

 “Brody and I met when we were 18,” Callum begins haltingly.  “He saw me bussing tables at a restaurant he was at with his grandparents… he snuck away from their table and asked me out.  After that first date we were inseparable.”  He laughs and shakes his head, as if he’s still surprised Brody chose him.  “We moved in together after a year of dating.  Brody took classes at NYU, and I worked my way through a culinary program and trained under different chefs.  His parents paid for his classes and living stuff, but I wouldn’t let Pops pay from anything of mine… I wanted to earn it, you know?”

 I nod, letting him know that I understand even if I can’t relate.

“We tried to save money whenever we could, so our apartment wasn’t the greatest… that was just another thing his family held against me.  They thought he should be with some trust fund kid or a stockbroker or something.  Not Niall MacKenzie’s kid.”  Callum frowns as he thinks back.  “Brody loved it though, getting the chance to live like a regular guy and not be surrounded by unrealistic expectations and restrictions and bodyguards.”

Niall MacKenzie.

That name pings something in the back of my mind, but again I can’t quite remember.  Though I highly doubt anyone who had a hand in raise Callum could be anything less than delightful.

“Brody was the one I told you about today, the one I changed for.  It was enough to keep his dad and grandpa off our back for the most part.  I completed my culinary program right before he started law school.  I worked my way up to saucier before everything went to hell, and I had to quit.”

I haven’t the faintest idea what a saucier is, but from the pride with which he says it I know it’s important to him, and I smile at his accomplishment.  I turn momentarily to Bastien, and I see him watching Callum with an intensity I’ve never seen from the older man.                      

           Callum brings his legs up on the loveseat, curling in on himself and tucking his knees beneath his chin before wrapping his arms around them, as if he’s trying to make himself smaller.  “I proposed the night Brody got the news he passed the LSATs.  We spent that whole night out with our friends, celebrating.” He sniffs and wipes away a tear with the cuff of his hoodie.  “We were so happy that night… it was like we were untouchable you know?  We had each other and we were working towards our dream jobs… everything was perfect.”

Callum falls silent and his eyes grow unfocused as he looks back in time at a moment only he can see.  Bastien shifts beside me and reaches out as if to comfort him, but quickly withdraws his hand.

Callum takes a shaky breath before he resumes speaking.  “A couple weeks after that some detectives showed up at our apartment asking about drugs.”

I can’t control my shocked gasp and I hear a twin noise come from Bastien.

“We didn’t use regularly, but two or three times a year we’d take some ‘shrooms or go to a club and party a little harder than usual.  That night we were out celebrating one of our friends gave Brody a couple party favors and I guess Brody shared those with a girl who had just started dating someone in our group.  The cops heard the girl scored from us… Brody couldn’t have any of this blow back on him, so I told them I had been the one to give it to her.  I’d never been in trouble before and I could work in a kitchen with a record…”

“And he just let you take the blame?”  I’m outraged, furious at a man I don’t even know for daring to cause Callum a moment of strife.  

Bastien grumbles next to me, equally incensed.  “What sort of person lets his fiancé take responsibility for something like that?”

“Stop.”  Callum’s voice is low and deadly.  “Stop talking about him like that.”

I’m unable to control my frown but I fall silent, allowing Callum to continue.

“Brody fought me on it, but I eventually convinced him.  It wasn’t until a few days later when the detectives came back that we found out what happened to our friend’s girl.  She had a bad reaction to the molly and she… she died.”

“Oh, fuck.”  Bastien eloquently manages to put everything I’m feeling into two syllables.  I sit, frozen, desperately trying to catch my breath.

 “Since it was an accident the cops said I wouldn’t be charged with murder, but since I was the one who supplied her with the molly the prosecutor decided to charge me with involuntary manslaughter.”

“Brody, you mean,” I snarl.  “Brody was the one who gave her the drugs, Brody should have been the one-”

“This is the last time I’m gonna tell you, darlin’,” Callum keeps his voice even, but his eyes are full of warning.  “You need to keep Brody’s name out of your mouth.”

 “The prince is correct,” Bastien says obstinately.  “For him to just let you-”

“He didn’t let me do anything!”  Callum raises his voice, emerald eyes blazing.  “I chose to do it; I chose to save him from something that could have ruined his life.  The deck was already stacked against me once they realized who I was; they would never have let the Senator’s son go down when they could pin it on me.  Prison would have broken him.  I knew I could take it.  Brody fought me every step of the way, so don’t you dare sit there and judge him thinking he just let me take the fall.”

A heavy weight settles on my chest, and it becomes hard to breathe.  I know Callum is someone who loves fiercely, but nevertheless I’m still shocked by the depths of his passion and loyalty for Brody.

Would he ever love me like that?

 My heart twists painfully at even the possibility that he won’t.

“Your background report says you spent two years in prison,” Bastien’s voice is rough with an emotion I can’t quite place.  Frustration laced with… ?

Callum nods.  “That’s right.”

“And where was your fiancé during this time?”  Bastien manages to keep his voice even as he asks what I’ve been dying to know.

“Brody stayed in our apartment, worked his way up in his law firm.”  Callum sounds proud.  “We wrote letters to each other every week.”

How can he be proud of someone who just let him rot in prison for two years?

“He didn’t visit you?” I ask before I can stop myself.

Callum smiles wistfully.  “I wasn’t going to let him see me in a place like that or have him exposed those people.”

My Callum, ever the protector.

“We stayed together for a few months after I got released.  I started working at the bar where Liam found me.”  He smiles at me then, full of sincere affection, before growing serious.  “I came home one morning after volunteering at an animal shelter in our neighborhood and found a bunch of the Senator’s bodyguards carrying stuff out of our apartment into a moving van.”

“Shit,” Bastien and I whisper at the same time.

“He uh,” Callum tips his head back and blinks quickly several times.  “He said that um, he’d been thinking a lot since I’d been released and that he realized that we were just too different, and our marriage would be a mistake.  And… uh, that was the last time I saw him.”

Bastien mutters something under his breath in Greek that sounds distinctly unpleasant.  We sit in silence for a few minutes, Callum restlessly picking at loose threads on his sweats while he eyes us warily.

“To make sure I kept my mouth shut about what happened Jonathan bought me a small apartment back in the neighborhood I grew up in and Jackson gave me $250,000,” Callum finishes.

“They paid you off,” I say, feeling stunned.

“They didn’t need to.  I never would have turned on Brody,” Callum whispers.

“I was wondering how you afforded to own an apartment at your age,” Bastien comments.

Callum shrugs.  “I invested most of the money and between that and working at the bar I get by just fine.  I keep my head down and fly under the radar.”

“It’s time to tell us about your family,” Bastien says.

“Shit.”  Callum huffs out a strained laugh before dramatically announcing,  “I am the spawn of Niall MacKenzie, grandson of Ioan MacKenzie, great-grandson of the Graeme MacKenzie.”

Pieces suddenly click into place, and I remember where I’ve heard the name Niall MacKenzie.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me, Callum!” Bastien shouts.  

“Rude.”  Callum frowns at him.

Bastien launches into an expletive ridden tirade that leaves Callum looking slightly impressed.

“This does change some things, now that we know who your family is,” I say once Bastien has calmed.

Callum instantly schools his face into a neutral expression, but not before I catch the flash of hurt in his eyes.  “Thank you for your hospitality.  I can have my things packed within the hour.”

“I didn’t say you have to leave!”  I barely manage to reign in my panic at the thought of finishing the social season without him.

Callum tilts his head to the side and looks between Bastien and me, green eyes studying us intently.

“With all due respect, Your Highness, this will be a hell of a secret to keep,” Bastien says haltingly.

Callum crosses his arms and leans back into the loveseat grumbling about “uptight fucking nobles”.

“To be fair Troublemaker, finding out you come from a family of career criminals isn’t going to endear you to anyone here,” I snap.

His eyes narrow and he slowly sits upright.  “Darlin’, you’re getting’ a lot of leeway here, but you’re gonna need to watch your tone when you’re speakin’ on my family, yeah?”

We stay locked in a staring contest, glaring at each other, and I’m torn between wanting to shake him in anger and wanting to jump in his lap and grind against him.

“So Beautiful, are we gonna hate fuck or what?” Callum finally whispers with a cheeky smirk.

I can’t help myself; I burst out laughing even as Bastien grunts in annoyance at our antics.

“Look.”  Callum holds up his hands.  “I’m not saying grandda and great-grandda always operated inside the lines.”

Bastien snorts.  “Being major players in the prostitution game, the drug trade, and illegal weapons dealing is more than just a little ‘oopsie’.”

“I get that.  But Pops has moved all the businesses into the black,” Callum insists.

Bastien stares at him.

“Mostly into the black.   With a few shades of grey,” Callum amends.

I put my head in my hands and try to think.  “You need to tell us everything your father is involved in at this moment, what business he runs.”

Callum bites his lip then sighs.  “Fine.  He got out of dealing weapons and prostitution first thing after he took over for grandda.  Uh… now he owns a few strip clubs and a pretty upscale escort agency.”

“How many is a few?”  Bastien furrows his eyebrows.

“Escort agency!” I exclaim at the same time.

Callum shuffles his feet on the floor.  “Last time I counted 16 clubs.”

“How is that any better than prostitution?”  I frown at him.

 

“Being a sex worker isn’t a dirty thing, Liam.”  Callum glares at me.  “All the people who work at my dad’s clubs are 21 and over, he makes sure each club has great security in place, the dancers are paid well outside of the tips they earn, and they never have to do anything they aren’t comfortable with. We don’t force them to do anything, and we don’t judge them for the things they choose to do.”

“And the escort agency?”  Bastien arches a skeptical eyebrow.

Callum shrugs.  “People pay for attractive and well educated babes for their time and companionship.  That’s all.  All the escorts are at least 25, and they’re accompanied by security on every date they go on.  They are never required to have sex with their clients.  If they choose to that is their business and has nothing to do with us. Once again, we don’t force them to do anything or judge their choices.”

“You keep saying we,” I mutter.

“We’re all sort of a family.”  Callum runs a hand through his hair.  “Pops runs everything, but I’ve filled in at clubs as security or behind the bar.  I got to know people, their partners and their kids.  I made friends.  We look out for each other.  You might not like it Liam, but these businesses are legitimate, and we take care of our own.”

I nod slowly.  I’d been raised to view sex work as something only the uneducated or very poor did in a last minute bid of desperation.  When I listen to Callum’s explanation I realize I’d been viewing it through the lens of my father’s intolerance.  As long as all parties involved are of age, consenting, and safe it’s not my place to judge what they do.  

Damn it, Dad.  

 I sigh, wondering what other ways my father has potentially skewed my view of the world.

“I notice you haven’t mentioned anything about your family’s drug business.”  Bastien’s voice draws me back to the conversation.

For the first time Callum looks reluctant to answer our questions.

“Callum?” I prompt.

“Pops doesn’t have anything to do with street drugs,” he finally says.

“Selling people pills so they can get high isn’t any better,” Bastien mutters.

Callum glares at him mutinously.  “I don’t know what kind of fucking utopia you grew up in, but where I come from a lot of people are one shitty paycheck away from losing their insurance or not being able to afford the medications they need to live.  Pops is able to get those people their meds.”

“Are you saying your father deals in prescription medications?” I ask, shocked.

“Yeah.”  He shrugs uncomfortably and crosses his arms.  “Grandda had a contact down south that hooked him up with high grade pain killers, oxys and shit.  When Pops took over he kept the contact but instead of pills he gets stuff like insulin and heart meds and inhalers.  Then he sells them to people who needs them but can’t afford them.”

Bastien grunts in disbelief, clearly skeptical.

“You know how much a vial insulin costs?” Callum snarls.  “A couple hundred bucks, easy.  How many struggling people do you know can afford to pay that a few times a month? Pops sells them a vial for $10. You might not fuckin’ like everything my family does, but we do help people when we can.”

“Why?” Bastien asks, flabbergasted.  “He’s got to be losing money doing that, what’s the point?”

Callum frowns.  “He’s got more money than God, what does he care if he loses some helping people out?”

“What about the things he did while working under your grandfather?”

I stare over at Bastien, wondering what point he’s trying to make.

“You going to tell me that you don’t have your share of dirty little secrets after working for the royal family for so many years?”  Callum’s smile is caustic.  “That Constantine doesn’t have any red in his ledger?”

I frown at the insinuation.  “Callum…”

He glances at me, clearly ready to argue, but eventually relents and slouches back against the cushions of the sofa.  “What now?”

Bastien looks to me.  “I will follow your lead on this, Your Highness.”

“Callum stays,” I reply instantly, not even needing to think about it.

“Really?”  Callum stares at me in disbelief.

“You can’t be held accountable for what your family did before you were even born, and your father seems to have made great strides in legitimizing his businesses.  You sacrificed yourself to make sure the man you loved was safe and able to live freely. Your circumstances may not be perfect but I’m not going to judge you for them.  You’re still my Callum and I still want you here,” I blurt out.

Then tension leaves his body and he smiles at me brightly.  “Darlin’, I don’t even know what to say right now.”

“Bastien, none of this information leaves this room.  Do whatever you have to in order to keep this from your subordinates.  Under no circumstances does my father find out about this.  Ever.  Swear to me Bastien,” I order him.

“I swear, Your Highness.”  He nods decisively.

I release a sigh of relief.  I was afraid he’d fight me on it.  “Callum, you should probably get back to your room before someone realizes you’re gone. You’ve been here for a while.”

He playfully pouts at me, and I shake my head at him.

“I’ll escort Callum back to his room, Your Highness.”  Bastien stands and motions for Callum to join him.

Callum lets Bastien leave the room first, then quickly shuts the door and backs me into it.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, a thrill shooting through me as his lips brush against the pulse in my neck.

“Callum!  Your Highness!”  Bastien voices carries through the door.

Callum nips at the underside of my jaw, kissing his way towards my mouth. He stops just before our lips meet. “I’m just giving you one hell of a goodnight kiss to dream about later,” he murmurs.

He kisses me roughly, taking possession of my mouth, his tongue flicking out to taste and tease mine.  He pins my wrists above my head with one large hand, using the other to caress my cheek while his hips firmly hold mine in place against the solid wood of the door. Everything else fades away… Bastien’s voice, the stress of the social season, my father’s ridiculous expectations. Nothing else matters but Callum’s mouth and the way his body feels against mine.  The kiss is over far too soon, and I sway forward as Callum releases me, chasing his lips.

He cups my face in his hands and kisses my forehead.  “Thank you for believing me, Liam.”

“Always,” I whisper, covering his hands with my own.

Callum’s eyes rove over my face and he smiles softly.  “I could really fall in love with you, you know that?”

Oh, God.

Blood rushes in my ears and my heart beats so fast I think I might faint.  I hug him tightly and whisper, “I think the same about you.”

Callum eventually releases me.  “I should go before Bastien’s face melts off,” he chuckles.

I reluctantly release him to a glaring Bastien and slowly make my way back to bed, wishing Callum would be sleeping next to me.

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Bastien walks Callum back to his room, his mind racing.  Off all the possibilities he had considered regarding the boy’s past, what he’d imagined hadn’t been nearly as chaotic as the truth.  “How are you feeling?”  

Callum shrugs and runs a hand through his hair in what Bastien now realizes is his go-to thinking gesture.  “Better, now that it’s all out there.”  He stops walking and whirls to face the older man.  “Ok, that’s kind of a lie.  I feel better, but I’m fucking pissed off too.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.  You know what really rattles my balls, old man?”

Bastien chokes on a laugh before he remembers to glare.  “Quit calling me that.  And no, I don’t know what rattles your balls.”

“I’m going to let that opportunity for a quality joke slide.”  Callum smirks.  “I hate that just because I’m here, in this fucking place, that I’m supposed to act ashamed of my family, ashamed of what I did, when I’m not. Pops has done a lot to try and make up for the damage my grandda and great-grandda did.  I don’t care that I have a record since it kept Brody safe.”

 “Callum.”  Bastien reaches out and grabs his hand, threading their fingers together.  “You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.  You’re a better person than any noble I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you,” Callum whispers, looking at their joined hands in confusion, a faint blush on his cheeks.  

 “But you were right about Liam’s father.  He’s dangerous, Callum.  I’ll do everything I can to keep this information from him, but please be careful who you trust.  I’ll do my best to keep you safe, but Constantine has eyes everywhere.”  Bastien squeezes his hand once before letting him go, and they continue the walk to Callum’s room in silence.    

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An annoyingly insistent knocking rouses me from an uneasy sleep.  I groan and fish through the blankets for my phone, muttering a particularly vicious ‘fuck’, then I see how early it is.  I’d only managed a couple hours of sleep after last night’s conversation with Liam and Bastien.

“Who the fuck-?”  I snarl as I throw open my door, spotting short when I see Maxwell bouncing in place and Bertrand standing stoically next to him.

“Rise and shine, Callum!”  Maxwell smiles at me.

I want to throw him into a raging volcano.

I grunt.

Bertrand looks me over dispassionately.  “I’ll assume that was the appropriate morning greeting followed by the appropriate use of my title.”

“Piss off,” I mutter.

His face turns a frightening shade of red.  “Why you-!”

“We just found out where the next social event will be!” Maxwell interrupts.  “If we’re going to arrive there with everyone else, we should get packed.  It’s going to be fun!”

I doubt that very seriously.

“Uh -huh.  Where’s all this alleged fun going to take place?”

“We’re going to the northern region of Cordonia, to the snow!”  Maxwell’s enthusiasm will not be dampened.  

“We’re about to go straight into Olivia’s home territory.  If you want to get time with Prince Liam, you’re going to have to beat her at her own game,” Bertrand interjects.

Well, fuck me in the ass.