Rhiane had never been involved with the rebellion. It was a question every candidate for the contest was asked and was scrutinized intensely to make certain there was no deception. She had more reasons to join their effort than most, something that was alluded to during a grilling psychological assessment, and while she [i]did[/i] lie multiple times to different officials she did not lie about the revolution. Quite simply she had been too busy struggling to survive with the farm to be bothered about social causes. There were always more pressing matters; her father being overtaken by his depression, someone falling ill, changes in weather that affected their crops, her brother's volatile temper exploding, supply shortages, pests on the fields, broken machinery were all issues she had shouldered the responsibility for handling. Perhaps if her mother had not died when she had there would have been opportunity to explore a life full of fulfillment beyond crawling from the edge of bankruptcy. The Black Family Farm, when she left it, was thriving because of her efforts and expertise. That in itself was no small miracle. To have had the energy to join the rebellion would have been nearly physically impossible. While she did not agree with their methodology she was beginning to empathize with their firmly held beliefs. As she sat down on the opposite end of the sofa from Luke she mused over what she knew of the royalty. The queen was a force to be reckoned with. Rhiane did not care to pass judgment but she respected the authority that the older woman wielded. Queen Camilla was intelligent, quick-witted, composed, assertive, and exerted control absolutely. What surprised her most was how very aware the monarch was of the court of public opinion and the ripple effects everything had on the masses; many of her peers alleged that the crown was as apathetic as they were oblivious to what they did that incited riots. The princess elect could see this was not the case. Cally had insisted the night prior that Luke was a 'good person' but Rhiane did not yet agree. In fact, she was relatively certain that he exemplified all the accusations of the downtrodden peasantry. She was not foolish enough to object to the queen's plan of a tour but she doubted in its success. Luke was arrogant, ignorant, irreverent, had contempt for commoners, and was unable to put on a show of feigned bliss for a single evening when cameras were watching the room. To put him in the center of everyone's attention would bring out the worst and might provoke further civil unrest. Right now the kingdom had only the [i]theory[/i] of what he was; once they had confirmation that their assumptions were reality the powder keg would be lit. Rhiane could already envision the crown prince staring at them dispassionately as the empire burned. The princess elect remained silent and attentive as the doctor strode in. Luke had tensed at the medical uniform and rectangular box before interrupting outright during an explanation about nanotechnology being injected into their bodies. To be perfectly fair, she was not thrilled at the prospect- but she could hardly control her fiance. There was no appeal she could make to the queen. No alternative solution that sprung to mind. Given the chance it was undeniable that Luke would distance himself from her as if she were a leper and flock to the other elites he preferred the company of. He didn't even pretend to be repentant. This engagement would be worse than she had considered. What was worse than the prospect of forced proximity, however, was that the mention of a lady sleeping in Luke's room was what made him comply. Rhiane had no illusions; she knew what she was getting into when she signed the numerous forms required for contest entry. But humiliation burned deep in her chest and was starting to transform into fledgling despair. Her two surviving family members were estranged from her. Her future husband acted as if he hated her, and the idea of her, so thoroughly he could not run away fast enough. She had not one friend or ally in the palace. On her engagement night she had been filmed being abandoned. Luke cared so deeply for his tryst partner, whom he had slept with during [i]their ball[/i], that he was obedient the second she was threatened, but was apathetic to Rhiane's own pain. As someone of low birth everything would be assumed her fault as guilt was assigned by status. It was increasingly hard to find any hope for joy to cling to as she was flung about. Quietly she set her jaw to keep her emotions from leaking into her features and accepted the injection without complaint. Because she was in such inner turmoil she could not find her voice. Stoicism was her only protection and comfort. Not that speaking would have been productive; the queen humored Luke because he was her son. The farmer did not expect she'd show such consideration for his lowly consort. Rhiane did not have the presence of mind to stop Luke from testing the implant. Even if she had, the queen did not [i]suggest[/i] so much as she [i]commanded[/i]. She imagined it would not have made an ounce of difference. Even bracing for impact the agony was excruciating. When she was younger she had broken her arm and her brother had carried her to the closest doctor because she was sobbing incoherently. The assault to her nerves was not quite as debilitating as that time, or some of the other 'minor' mishaps with farm equipment, but it was one hell of a deterrent. To keep from crying out she had to grit her teeth and clench her fists discreetly as a means to withstand the pain. Genetically she ought to be able to tolerate more as a woman (a gift for the sex that had to go through childbirth) than Luke as a man. She hoped that was the truth. It was only just he endure more. "I trust in your judgment, your grace," she intoned with a bow of her head. She had to be strong. She had to be resilient. She could not break now that she was the victor of the contest. Her worst fears, ones that no one besides herself knew, had been avoided by this path to marriage. She still had options to avoid the tragedy of her nightmares. She would not lose on the first day. "When are we to depart on our tour, your eminence?" Rhiane inquired with a slightly hoarse indicative of the torment she had felt as Luke had tested their link.