Before her entrance into the Contest Rhiane had not been in a hovercraft before. They were simply too expensive for anyone of her socio-economic status to purchase unless absolutely necessary. That assumed, of course, they had enough assets to liquidate that would come close to the listing price for such a vehicle. Like most things that she could not afford she had been at first been amazed at the luxuries of the one that had carried her during official transport. It was novel the first few times. Now that she had been inside of one, being ferried to various trials, then being carried to the castle, or taxied to an interview, they had lost some of their initial charm. Not only had the thrilling sticker of 'new' fallen off such an item she was entirely too tired to care about the model or Luke's apparent emotional attachment to said hovercraft.

Had they not been alone she might have also rolled her eyes as Luke addressed her as 'Ms. Black.' For such a self-proclaimed child of the courts groomed to perfection he was no Prince Charming. Rhiane almost felt tempted to tell all her former fellow candidates how they had been swindled by the deceptive propaganda that led them to believe he was a romantic gentleman. No woman she knew of swooned at being addressed as 'Ms. [Lastname].' Their ruse of courtship and emotional intimacy would not last long if Luke could not find it in himself to call her by her first name or a nickname that was clearly meant for her only. The more distantly polite he was the more exceedingly obvious it would be that they were in actuality little more than strangers. Pet names were out of the question on both ends. Rhiane had never called any man by a pet man and Luke would either explode or vomit at the pretense of calling her one (even to please his mother and earn freedom). Later she'd have to persuade him as to the merits of learning to say 'Rhiane' without disgust rolling off his tongue.

Swallowing a groan under her breath she climbed into the hovercraft and, once the tinted windows obscured the couple from view, she turned away slightly from her fiance. Crossing one leg over the other she took a deep breath and stared out the window. The world swept by in a blur of enticing colors and shapes of a distant lullaby. Mothers and fathers before the wars used to tuck their babes into cars and drive them around she had heard in tales. The vibrations of the engines helped the infants fall asleep apparently. Idly Rhiane wondered if that was why she felt so exceedingly tired as she sank into her plush leather seat.

Stifling a yawn she had turned ever so slightly to listen to Luke when he started on about something she said back in the room. Words blended together as fatigue washed over and her eyes slid closed. He drowned on without stopping to see if she was attentive. For a split second the princess elect wryly noticed this seemed to be a very [i]'Luke'[/i] thing to do to ignore his audience completely. Someone as indulged as he was must be used to having others hang off his every mundane word without dreaming to interject their needs or differing opinions. It was without any guilt that she drifted off into an ocean of slumber. Whatever he was prattling on about they were likely to disagree upon anyway.

Edwin visited her in her dreams as he always did. When he was alive they had been incredibly close. They had their share of fights, as siblings almost always did, but it was Edwin that helped her with homework, taught her to climb a tree, soothed her back to sleep at night when she still believed in monsters under the bed, and threatened the livelihood of the first boy to notice the curves that came ahead of their time. As the only women in the house she had been very attached to her mother and vice versa. Edwin was both an older brother and second maternal figure in her life; something that one might have expected of the gay eldest child if stereotypes had held true. Gerald didn't bother with Rhiane much in their youth. The age difference alone had made them struggle to find common ground without driving oen another absolutely insane with their idiosyncrasies.

Today's Edwin was a memory. Sometimes he was a memory, sometimes he was an adviser, and sometimes he was her conscience reaching out through the subconscious, but today he was a memory. He stood in one of their fallow fields facing the rising sun of the east as the first rays of sunshine blossomed over the barren earth. Taller than their father, yet shorter than Gerald, he had seemed larger than life at the same. A single plaid shirt hung off him unbuttoned and loose over the waistband of his jeans. Edwin had a square jawline, wavy hair darker than her own, and broad shoulders that had made him devilishly handsome in the small town with so few eligible bachelors. [i]"Gerald can't run it,"[/i] he was laughing at Rhiane's innocent question. [i]"I know he's the oldest but... can you imagine? He'd just yell at everyone and ruin what business we have. No, one day you and I will run this place Rhi. I'll teach you everything you need to know once you get a little bit bigger."[/i]

Now he was laying in his bed wearing the same clothing. Disease had laid claim to him and made his body so emaciated under the garments it was impossible to recall how they had ever been filled. His breathing was a soft wheeze that made Rhiane's heartbeat rattle. Each exhale she was terrified would be his last. Relief embraced her with every exhale that proved he was even more doggedly determined to survive than any doctor had thought was possible. Willpower alone would not save him but Edwin would not go quietly; he would make the illness work for every inch and would prolong the struggle as long as possible because he was an obstinate son of Hubert Black. [i]Rhi, I'm sorry,[/i] he said as she sat by his bed patiently. She had sat by her mother's bed watching her waste away and now she did it a second time for her brother. Rhiane could see in Edwin's features he was tortured by the knowledge instead of protecting her from harm he was causing it no matter how inadvertently. [i]"I'm sorry I won't have time to teach you how to run the place."[/i]

Memory Rhiane leaned forward and smoothed back the hair that had become coarse over the last few weeks. [i]"Don't worry about me,"[/i] she had reassured. [i]"I'll take care of Dad and Gerald. I'll figure it out. And you know me, I'll always have a plan for the worst case scenario."[/i] Worn as he was she saw a fluttering of fear in his gaze. Edwin had seen the quiet change that had overtaken his previously more innocent sister. The middle child of the Black family had suspicions about how warped her sense of agency had become as the epidemic claimed lives in their town.

[i]"Promise me..."[/i] Edwin started.

"Edwin," Rhiane murmured in her sleep. Turning back to the side she furrowed her brows as the discussion carried on in a direction she had been resistant to allow it to go. Edwin had been dying and she could neither leave his side nor deny his request to speak, but she had failed to make the promise he had requested. It haunted her still. Perhaps that was why her brother, and not her mother, visited her so often in unwaking hours. She knew of his disapproval and it was easy for the psyche to imagine that somehow the late Mrs. Black would approve no matter how absurd the belief.