After her unusual dream in which a part herself, disguised as her dead brother Edwin, suggested her more conscious self ought to take the medicine, she had been persuaded to do so. It was Luke's response to her innocent question about his work that chilled any desire she had to be agreeable. Even as princess elect she realized that the crown prince would have tasks that were not her business, something she accepted even before she won the contest and gained her status formally, but there was not a need to rudely respond to a vague query. It was frustrating that she was trying to be polite and yet he lacked decency. The former farmer pinched the cartilage of her upper nose between her eyebrows and tried not to let her emotions get the best of her. That he was able to converse with dignitaries of any nation without falling to petty insults spoke to how deeply the issue Luke had was with her on a personal level. Some of the candidates for her position would have counted themselves lucky to be such a unique focus of his contempt. Rhiane would have preferred to not be special at all.

That Luke had defaulted back to his aggravating attitude was not a surprise. What was unexpected was that he wanted to go somewhere 'nice and relaxing.' The princess elect knew the only reason that she was invited along to any location in his presence was the implant that had effectively made her into baggage he was forced to cart around. Why he had this sudden inclination was the true mystery. Luke had been insistent about the need to get work done and, seeing as she had done nothing more than sleep while he did, she could not be blamed for being a distraction. Idly she wondered if the court of public opinion was suddenly weighing more heavily on him than he might admit. Whatever the cause for his need to leave she doubted he would divulge it her willingly if at all.

Already struggling with the issue of the capsule she was enraged when he opened her hand, told her to be a good girl, and patted her cheek condescendingly. She watched as he turned and walked into a closet and was sorely tempted to crawl in the opposite direction. Not much could get through to Luke but the pain of the nanotechnology certainly could. Not many would respond to belittling with physical agony, especially if it imparted to themselves the same torment, but on this Rhiane had the slight upper hand. Not only could she brace herself for impact, and did she have a slight edge due to her gender's tolerance on an evolutionary level, she had learned to endure out of necessity for years. Luke might have had a stint in the military but she doubted that he had fear, neglect, or poverty that coerced him into labor no matter how sick or injured.

Fortunately for them both she was able to cool her temper. The princess elect put down the pill with a slightly shaking hand as she tried hard not to dwell on her memories. They had never gotten so far as to have the information on how both her mother and brother could have been cured. Even after they passed she did not know if an injection, or tablet, or set of transfusions would have saved their lives. By her own admission it was an irrelevant detail to fixate on but she could not help but imagine that this dose could have been the beginning of a regimen. Considering this particular pain medication had come from the royal doctor the price might have been comparable to that of rescuing peasants from the brink of death. Rhiane shuddered slightly and squeeze her eyes shut for a moment to chase away her morbid focus.

"Oh, [i]of course[/i] your highness," she drawled as she opened her eyes and turned away from the pill and glass of water that waited on the bedside table. "I will make it a point in my interview to make certain everyone is aware that you have requested I continue to refer to you exclusively as your royal highness. I wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea. Don't you think your mother will be pleased to know that I still know my place in our arrangement?" The princess elect knew what she was proposing would do anything but appease the queen. To use honorifics on broadcast would all but declare that their romance was a farce. No true boyfriend or fiance would make such a formal demand. Not only would it expose their charade, Rhiane knew that it would also give the masses the cold truth, leaving little doubt in their minds as to whether or not their crown prince thought himself too elevated to even hold hands with the best of what their stature had to offer.

"Didn't you tell me yourself how I ought not to trust anyone? Taking this medication, or following you obediently, that smells of [i]trust[/i]. I can't stop you from carrying me wherever you intend to go but if we're not going to have the pretense of civility I can make it as unpleasant for you as it is for me." She folded her arms and waited for what she was certain would be more derogatory remarks while evading any explanation.