Decisions. His life was about making decisions – from the selection of which coat to wear (because he refused to be dressed by other people every single day) to the trade agreements with the neighboring nations – there was not a day when he was given a break from the tedious task of charting his fate and the fate of the kingdom he would someday lead. It was the same, he imagined, for everybody else regardless of their birth status. People took options, made their choices, and it was those little nudges that made up a greater wave of change. He then wondered how choosing the pizza would affect the economy. 

Luke was leaning at the podium, contemplating between a pizza called “BOMB” and the more conventional Neapolitan when he caught wind of what sounded like the farmer girl’s voice conversing rather intelligently about stock prices. It didn’t surprise him how easy it was for her to open a discussion with strangers, she did win the contest after all. What he did not at all expect was how she could carry herself in an intelligent dialogue with those who earned a university business degree. Without appearing too interested with the discussion, he put the menu down and detached the gadget from his wrist with a gesture on its screen.

He opened a real-time chart of GenCo and was about to do the same for Alpire when the hostess asked whom the reservation should be made for. The prince looked up from his band with every intention to utter a random name when his blue eyes met hers and a look of surprised realization dawned on the woman. She visibly paled and appeared to find difficulty comprehending how the muscles of her jaw worked. “You seem to have found the answer,” he whispered, placing a finger on his lips in a universal gesture of silence. “Approach me when our table is ready. We don’t want to create a commotion by announcing our presence.” 

Whether the hostess found her tongue or not was not his concern, therefore Luke did not wait for her to give any sort of response. He just left to find the bench that the farmer girl and her new-found acquaintances were occupying. One of the two men leaned forward and said something in a low tone, which prompted a look of shock on the female’s face, who tentatively glanced his way. Good, their ineffective covers were blown meaning half the mission is done. 

He took the vacant spot beside Rhiane careful not to allow her to invade his personal space. “There were no reservations made, so I pulled some strings,” he said without looking at her. His attention was on the stock prices, specifically GenCo, which she claimed was not a viable investment at that moment. While it was true that the stock experienced a steady decline since the release of its annual earnings that stated last year’s income were twenty percent less than the income reported two years ago, while the spending increased by five percent probably driven by the advertising budget to promote the new product, the stock prices had been consolidating at a point of congestion for two weeks. He took it as a sign that the sellers were finally tiring, and the buyers were thinking that the price for the shares were just right. “I am going to make a purchase, Ms. Fundamentalist. Not today, but in a few days.” He gestured with his hand for her to come closer as he showed the chart to Rhiane. He had no idea how much she knew about trading, but he was showing her that the base of the six-month upswing was already reached by the downward trend, and that the twelve-year monthly upward trend was still in effect. “It’s about time they pick the stock prices up but remind me to sell before the launch of the improved breed.” 

If the trio was listening, he didn’t care. He spoke in a quiet voice as if he was telling her a secret, but in truth, he did not want to refute her analysis in public. It would be against their mission’s objectives. The debate on who had the better analysis could wait until they were back in the palace. What couldn’t wait, though, was the curious businesswoman who approached them. 

“Excuse me, your royal highness” she faltered and bowed awkwardly, unsure of the prince’s response and positively afraid of rejection. The woman held up her phone and gathered the confidence to smile. “May we take a photo with you and Ms. Rhiane Black?” The other two men were not as enthused, though they showed interest in participating, thinking that it would be a good story to tell their friends and family. Those who were close enough to hear couldn’t fight the urge to watch and see for themselves if they indeed heard right.

Luke supposed that phase two of the operation had started. People noticed them according to plan and it was time for him to play his part just for an hour. Just an hour of pretense, of being somebody that he was not, and it should produce results that would appease the queen. Never mind that it was a silly thing to do, it was the price he had to pay for choosing himself over his duties the night before. Pushing back the hood of his jacket, he smiled at the woman as he placed an arm around Rhiane’s shoulders and pulled her to himself. “Sure, but just one photo,” he invited the woman and her two other friends who immediately took the opportunity to be as close as they could get to Rhiane. The businesswoman looked like a teenager who had a once in a lifetime opportunity to meet her popstar idol. Her smile was big as she counted to three before snapping the group photo. Fortunately, it turned out perfect, with all five of them smiling and Luke not showing any resentment. 

It was not just the happy businesswoman camera’s that snapped the photo, those who heard her say the title and the name took their own versions of the photo of the prince and his princess dressed as a commoner at a casual dining place. Luke used to dislike the habit of people to take his photo without asking for permission, but after a while he got used to it and learned to accept the fact that it would not go away. As long as they did not go out of their way to bother him, it was fine. But that did not seem like the case that morning. Because of one success story, others were willing to try their lucks as well. 

Just then, the hostess approached with the good news that he had been waiting for the whole morning. Luke was relieved for two reasons – lunch and an way out of the curious public’s intent. “Your highness, Ms. Black,” she said softly, following Luke’s instructions, though it was pointless at that time. “Your table is ready, please follow me.”

Luke immediately got to his feet and followed the hostess. Bomb or Napoli, he was thinking, when he remembered that he did not come alone. The prince paused in mid-step, walked backwards to where Rhiane was seated, then wordlessly offered his hand.