Rhiane could tolerate his little oration about setting aside emotional expectations and romance, his smug belief association with him was a boon any citizen would envy, that she was gifted with a lovely endorsement of the crown prince, the insistence she now carried his name and authority, and a subtle instruction not to demean herself (though she was not compelled by this request). It was when he slid two cards across the table and spoke of the poor remaining poor [i]because they are too used to having nothing to lose that they have no clue how to not lose what they already grasped in their hands[/i] that her blood boiled. The former farmer stewed in disgust and rage as he paid their bill and checked his device for whatever he deemed one again more worthy of his attentions than his fiancee. She did not reach for the rectangular pieces of plastic. It must have been quite the sight for their rapt audience. After having a brief conversation they had watched Luke return to ignoring the woman he allegedly loved without noticing she hardly ate and did not so much as touch her wine.

"I did not realize you had such intimate familiarity with the poor," she said as she leaned forward with a smile painted on. From a distance she did not even appear upset but the venom in her words spoke to how deeply he had invoked her wrath. "I'm sure you wouldn't have made such assumptions without having personal experience to draw upon." But they both knew he did not. Vague reports and tours of poverty-stricken areas were almost certainly the extent of his exposure. By comparison had lived and breathed the life not only herself but seen it up close with every neighbor, every friend, every fellow farmer, every classmate, every suitor, every individual save a few that she came into contact with on a regular basis. The princess elect had the sense and courtesy not to fling her opinions on nobility at Luke for the same reason she expected him to return the favor; they didn't truly [i]know[/i] one another's world. Clearly she had underestimated the ego that convinced him he was omniscient and omnipotent all at once.

"I sacrificed [i]everything[/i] every day I was farmer just to claw us back up from the edges of bankruptcy," she started. "I did not attend university, did not grieve, did not date, did not take up hobbies, slept little, ate the least amount I could get away with, bought myself clothes only when necessary, did not rest when I was sick, and still it was less than others. I dare you to find anything that was in my grasp that I lost out of negligence. Despite my efforts, no matter what I accomplished, I would have never achieved enough success to not be considered [i]poor.[/i] I neither know nor care what the wealthy tell themselves about the laboring class to help themselves sleep at night, feeling justified in their judgment and derision, but I will not tolerate your insults of them."

As impossible as it was to prohibit everyone from speaking ill of the poor she knew that at least temporarily she could try to force Luke to comply. With a subtle title of her head she gestured to their spectators and the exterior of the building where she expected the paparazzi to be waiting to snap glossy photographs of the newly engaged lovebirds. "The choice is up to you. Either we agree not to scapegoat the lowborn for their predicament or I can show the media how another princess elect might react to your words. Could you imagine what one of those delicate flowers would have done when they realized that their husband would never love them, that he would order for them without asking what they wanted, and would prefer they not speak to him? I rather think that they would cry. It's an art to be able to convincingly cry on command. It's deception obviously but much harder than selling a lie with charm. Would you like to make a wager as to whether or not I am capable? The public loves a tragedy more than uplifting news- it sells better apparently."

Had he not tanked himself by the assessment of the poor she might have been swayed to take the offered funds. Rhiane was a strategist that knew how to manipulate with a more gentle edge than the queen. During the contest, even when she had obscured the truth, she came across as genuine and relatable. People liked her because she was down to earth, able to poke fun at herself without pretense, and had a charming candor. With freedom to spend how she wished she could launch a campaign that would undoubtedly help Luke fight back the negative spotlight that was being shone upon him as a result of the engagement ball and this afternoon's lunch. Using her own background as a stepping stone she could launch community outreach programs, send thoughtful gifts, and appeal to the very people she knew the rebellion was swaying to their cause.

But the princess elect saw strings, real or not, attached to the cards laying on the table in the bright fluorescent light. Settling back in her chair she felt anger seep away slowly. It was unlikely, but possible, that Luke was in his own strange way trying to extend a peace offering or understanding. Rhiane felt was a stab of regret for letting her temper get the best of her. An apology felt excessive given his prior abhorrent treatment but she would at least try to bite her tongue back more than she had. A churn of her stomach indicated even her insides were disappointed in today's choices though eating still felt impossible.