Chapter Nine

A/N: there were some extremely small changes to the last paragraphs of chapter eight. Nothing plot-altering or necessary for understanding the chapter, but some dialogue may make more sense if you reread the last lines.

It wasn't the way the sun flickered through his golden-brown waves or just how much he towered over me, but rather the mild indifference that splashed over the hazel eyes watching me, that stopped me dead in my tracks. I paused to take in his whole face. His brows were raised with intrigue, and an amused smile cracked at his lips, yet his eyes were the same as mine had often been since arriving here, as if he wasn't completely checked into the world around him, not fully caring what happened.

"Well, for starters, I'm also sorry that you got locked up for what you said about the crown prince," I said, trying to brush off the eerie similarity between us. If all went well, I'd have plenty of time to unpack that later.

"It's not your fault; you're not the one that made him into a horrible human being," he sneered, the memory of Sawyer enough to annoy him. "Sorry, I'm sure this probably isn't something I should mention around you, especially considering Ryia is-."

"I agree. I don't like him," I cut him off, "I hate him, actually, to the point where I want to stop Ryia from falling for him while I still can."

"Really?" he asked, the glaze slowly beginning to melt away, letting his eyes match the rest of his curious expression, "I thought you were supposed to be dead set on helping Ryia and Sawyer get together?"

"Not at all," I drew out the last word for emphasis, "them getting together is the last thing I want. As you said, he isn't exactly the nicest person out there. I don't want to see Ryia end up unhappy, or worse, because of him. I might be part of the Western Province on paper, but my loyalties lie with Ryia and her best interest alone, nothing or no one else."

I took in a deep breath. "And, that's the part where you come in," I nodded towards him, "as much as I want to keep Ryia away from Sawyer, I'd also like to set her up with Lawrence. I think they could be happy together." My face darkened as the scene from the original book flashed through my mind. When I'd read it, I could practically hear her sobs breaking from her throat as he died for her.

"And that he'd treat her well." He wouldn't just treat her well. He'd treat her perfectly. She was his everything, and he'd do whatever it took to be hers.

"I figured you'd be perfect fit to help me, with how well you know Lawrence and how against Sawyer you are," I added, breaking from the train of thought.

"So, you're saying you need my help playing wingman?" he asked, an eyebrow arching playfully, "sounds easy enough."

"Well, there's a bit more to it," I lifted my hand, gesturing that I wasn't done. "There's the more obvious issue that not only will Sawyer not easily give up on Ryia, and the western province's support that comes along with her, but I also suspect that Lawrence currently has a royal target on his back."

Oliver stepped back and dropped his arms, letting my words seep in. I searched his expression, looking for caution and suspicion, but I only found intrigue.

"What makes you think that?" His eyes narrowed as he asked with a tone that made it sound like he knew the answer already, and was instead looking to confirm something else.

"It's been something I've been putting together piece by piece for a bit now," I lied, "it clicked into place when I finally learned who Lawrence's mother was, a few days ago. With the Central Province's grasp on the throne already shaky, it wouldn't be… unreasonable for Sawyer to be wary of anyone who could potentially take his place."

Oliver chewed on his lip, mildly disappointed with my response. "Honestly, I've had my own suspicions that Lawrence might be in danger. I just haven't been able to figure out how Sawyer could pull it off without creating an even bigger issue for himself, and therefore don't know how to stop it," he looked me over, "I'm assuming you might have some ideas?"

"Not necessarily on how he could hurt Lawrence, but a general sense of how to prevent it from happening," I felt a little bad for lying again but continued on with it anyways. "If we could cause the current imperial family to lose power before Sawyer got the chance to kill Lawrence, then he'd be safe."

I figured now wouldn't be the best time to bring up the possibility of having to kill Sawyer to save Lawrence or the existence of an undead army that could only be raised by someone with royal blood wielding dark magic.

"So, treason in the form of overthrowing the monarchy?" Oliver rephrased it, "for the sake of saving Lawrence so that he can be set up with Ryia?"

I nodded my head.

"What's in it for me?"

"Saving your best friend, and consequently your job, while helping him find happiness," I said, very matter of fact, "along with the petty satisfaction of knowing that Sawyer got the loveless, powerless life he deserves."

Oliver weighed my offer and silently stared at me, then stared some more, and then even more, to the point where I thought he'd never respond. He eventually broke out in incredulous laughter. "Well, I did not see that coming. No offense, but this is not what I'd expected you to be like. I thought you were a lot more… boring and uptight."

Poor June. I almost felt bad for the person this body used to belong to. "I mean, full offense taken," I chewed on my lip to stifle a laugh, "but I'm definitely not who I used to be. Let's just say I've had a recent change in character."

"Understandable," Oliver nodded as if he could relate. "So, if I agree to help you with all of this, then, where do you reckon that we'd start with this treasonous, romantic plot of yours?"

"I'd say that we start small, just a bit of casual undermining," I said, "save the serious capital crime for later."

Oliver snickered as I elaborated. "Sawyer is going to send Ryia a pretty impressive necklace to wear to the upcoming ball," I started reciting some of the book's plot, keeping it as vague as possible, "I think some girls are going to get catty at the fact that Sawyer is obviously favoring Ryia. Chances are, they'll do something stupid like try and ruin her clothes to embarrass her. We can keep an eye out, and if anything like that starts to happen, we get Lawrence to intervene. It'll make him look good for protecting her, and I'll be able to convince Ryia to do something for him as a thank you, making them spend more time together. Plus, that ensures that Sawyer doesn't get the opportunity to be the one to step in and save the day, and it'll keep him and Ryia from getting closer, killing two birds with one stone."

Oliver took a step back and looked at me, completely dumbfounded. "That's a pretty detailed prediction," his hazel eyes gleamed with interest as he shot me a knowing stare, "it's almost like you know what's going to happen."

"Oh, it's nothing like that," I stuttered through a forced laugh, "I just overheard some staff talking at the palace about the gift, and I have a good grasp of how social situations play out. I've gotten to know just how dramatic the nobles can be with all the social events I've been to." Part of me prayed that he'd believe my performance, but another part of me was scared about teaming up with someone who was stupid enough to believe it.

"If you say so," he shook his head, not fully believing it but interested nonetheless, "this whole thing sounds… realistic, and fun, enough to get on board with. Besides, what do I have to lose?"

Everything, your life included, I thought. But who was I to argue with his logic when it meant things would turn out well for me? Although, the ease with which he agreed was slightly concerning.

"And where would we go from there?" he asked.

"Not entirely sure," I responded candidly, "my prediction skills only go so far, but I figured that together, with our mutual hatred for his royal highness, we could figure out something more long-term."

"Fair enough," he laughed, "you might have just convinced me."

"So, are you down to play wingman and, if worse comes to worst, possibly commit a capital crime?" I asked, begging him to say yes with puppy eyes and a small pout.

"Yes?" he responded, almost as surprised by his agreement as I was. I spent a second basking in relief before a smile broke out on my face. My first step to saving the second male lead was complete.

"Perfect," I said, walking past him and heading back towards the sunroom, "we should probably hurry back. I'm sure they're looking for you."

He effortlessly caught up to me and chuckled as I was in turn forced into a hurry to keep pace with his long strides.

"Where have you been," Lawrence jumped up as Oliver held the glass door of the sunroom open for me. Both Lawrence and the butler next to him, who'd presumably been in charge of finding the escapee standing at my side, glared at Oliver.

"Taking a nice, leisurely stroll through your lovely gardens," he said nonchalantly.

"And how did you end up there when you were supposed to go straight from your office to here?"

Oliver grinned, rather smugly, and shrugged in response. "I got lost on my way down. This place is a maze"

"You got lost?" Lawrence's voice twinged as his brows arched. "and when you ended up outside, it never crossed your mind that you'd gone the wrong way and should turn around?" It'd seemed that his normally long fuse was cut rather short when it came to his trusted aide.

"Not particularly. I thought the new perspective might help me orient myself." I snorted, causing Oliver to elbow me a bit. Somewhere throughout the absurd agreement, a level of comfort grew between us.

"You're absolutely killing me," Lawrence snapped. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips, and his muted brown hair brushed across his forehead as he found his seat again. Oliver pulled out my chair before sitting down himself, and a victorious, smug smile lit up his face.

The two of us watched as Lawrence and Ryia continued on wherever they'd left off before our sudden arrival, slipping the other subtle grins as if we were the ones responsible. Every time I turned to him, I couldn't help but notice the gold flecks in his eyes sparkling in the light that trickled through the windows; every drop of lingering apathy I'd first noticed had disappeared completely. Although, with my plan finally beginning to take off, some of my apathy had too. I had a purpose, a solid goal to achieve now, enough to keep me from losing myself in the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

"You're awfully happy," Ryia toyed once we got settled into the carriage, "if you want, I can probably make up another diplomatic excuse to come here more often so you can see him."

"Who, Oliver?" I laughed, shaking my hands in denial, "it's nothing like that, but I appreciate you trying to be my wingman."

"Wingman? What's that supposed to be?" she questioned, her chestnut locks draping her shoulders as she tilted her head.

"You know, like being someone who helps set me up with a guy. Have you never heard of it?" The shake of her head surprised me, and I silently added it to the growing mental list of words that I couldn't use here.

"So, what did you and Lawrence talk about while I was gone?" I asked, directing the conversation away from any talk of Oliver and me.

"Nothing much, just chit-chat between friends. It was nice to catch up with him. It's been a while since we'd really talked. He's gotten so…" Ryia trailed off into a smile, her light brown eyes dripping with honey.

"Handsome?" I interjected with a sly grin.

"No!" Ryia exclaimed, her cheeks flushed, "I was going to say mature. He's gotten so mature."

"If you say so," I snickered.

As the carriage rolled towards the dress store, Ryia talked on and on about all the different fashion trends. As she prattled through descriptions of various laces and silk, I couldn't help but smile at the fact that she'd gotten so much brighter since we'd arrived at the Alterio's.

"It really is gorgeous." As I tightened the clasp on the ornate, white gold necklace Ryia wore, I couldn't help but marvel at its intricacy. Ryia loosely nodded in agreement.

The necklace had arrived the morning of the solstice ball, as expected, in a large, black felt box, along with a painfully generic courting note and a bouquet of lush, blood-red roses. Duke Sommers was beyond ecstatic as Ryia awkwardly accepted the gifts and asked the servant in charge of delivering them to pass on her sincerest thanks. Praise for both Sawyer and his daughter seeped from his mouth for hours. Even I received a compliment for my contributions.

"Aren't you so excited to wear it?" I pried. Ryia hesitated, tilting her head to get a better view.

"In all honesty, not particularly," Ryia admitted, her brows knitted with concern as she ran her fingertips across the jewels adorning her neck, "I'm afraid it's too… flashy."

"Not at all. If anything, it blends perfectly with your dress," I partially lied. The jewels did match the iridescent, pale pink fabric that cascaded around her. Though with teardrop-shaped pink diamonds reserved specifically for the use of the imperial family as the centerpieces, and the metal worked into a pattern that vaguely mimicked the swirls bordering the royal crest, it was unmistakably a gift from Sawyer. Anyone in high society would be able to tell in an instant where it'd come from, and it was sure to ignite jealousy across all nobility. Looking at its extravagance, it was becoming clear that Sawyer had intentionally given her something that would stick out as a way to claim her. Ryia dropped her hands into her lap and fidgeted with the fabric of her gown.

I quickly switched the subject. "Do you want me to put them in a vase," I grimaced as I looked at the limp bouquet lying on her bedstand. As much as I disliked anything from Sawyer, the wilting petals' silent crying for water filled me with a surprising amount of guilt.

"It's okay," she said, looking over the bouquet, "I'm not too fond of roses."

"Really?" I asked, tilting my head with pleasant surprise, "even though his highness was the one who sent them?"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm very thankful for the flowers and honored that he thought of me!" she responded in a flurry before softening her voice, "I'd just prefer lilies…" I made a mental note to tell Oliver, certain it would come in handy sooner or later, "it'd be nice to have nice if someone had cared to ask what flowers I'd liked first, without just assuming."

The expression she bore was too forlorn for someone referring to flowers.

Happy NaNoWriMo everyone! Here's to hoping I can hit that 50k goal and continue to share this story with you all! Thank you for reading!