"I'll tell you a secret," Rhiane leaned over once they were both seated inside the hovercraft comfortably. "It's similar to laughing at yourself so that it's easier to tolerate when others laugh at you. I suppose you haven't had that happen to you quite as often as most. Because I demean myself I steal that opportunity from others, or at least rob them of the pleasure of making me uncomfortable with their commentary," she shrugged. Perhaps it was conduct unbecoming a princess but it was, at least for now, her best line of defense in dealing with what would be alienation and whispered insults of the court. That Luke was put off by her self-depreciation was sincerely surprising. The former farmer had been relatively certain he had no respect for either her nor her ego and, if anything, would be an eager participant in all the games that had ladies and gentleman competing over who could make the most scathing criticism at her expense. Even before they had been formally introduced she had wagered no prince would be content with a peasant for a wife. Aristocracy did not even visit their village because they saw the poor as unworthy of even fleeting attention. As heir to the throne Luke's contempt was all but guaranteed. No matter what romantic fantasies other princess candidates harbored about princes, royal weddings, and rising to riches, Rhiane knew the simple fact she had been borne to the wrong mother and father, that she had never lived a life of luxury, would condemn her in the eyes of nobility.

It was this self-awareness of her position that had led her down a path of self-mockery and morbid humor. When managing her family farm she had been assertive, authoritative, and unflinching, though she always possessed a good sense of humor and could take a joke in good taste. Joining the contest changed her. No amount of bravado would make the social atmosphere more hospitable and so she had morphed into someone that suited her bleak future. Though she had not lost all her strength, she had abandoned her sense of self-preservation, embracing death with a reckless cavalier approach that had unnerved her brother and father and led to their estrangement. Her wit was used to make bitter remarks to shield hear from the attacks that would have otherwise caused emotional damage.

"I'll remember you gave me the option to back out, if [i]you[/i] remember you were the one foolhardy enough to challenge me," she remarked as she glanced out the window to watch the landscape. One aspect of her personality had not been diminished in the last few months: her courage. It took true bravery to know the cruelty of the crown, to know there was no love waiting in your marriage, to know you would be despised, that you would be killed before your children were grown, and to accept that fate. Idly she wondered if the roles were reversed if Luke would be quite so daring as she had been. Military men and women went into war with the knowledge and understanding that they might be killed in action. She had [i]certainty[/i] that she would. There was a saying among veterans that a man could prepare for their end but they were never actually ready for it. Rhiane begged to differ.

The hovercraft was parked atop the rock formation. Once the crown prince exited the vehicle she did the same although, instead of undressing, she did one complete rotation to take in the view. The princess elect had never been at such a high altitude outside of her hovercraft travels during the trials and recently. She drank in the view of pristine beaches, endless blue ocean, and the shady silhouette of flora as the sun descended closer to the horizon. Back at home she had watched the sunrise and occasionally the sunset, but they had not been as surreal an experience as this. More and more their exotic location made her feel as if she were having a vivid dream that would be interrupted when she was roused from her slumber.

"[i]Ms. Black[/i] respectfully declines to keep her shirt on. You can be as prudish as you desire, but [i]Ms. Black[/i] doesn't want any more wet clothes than necessary," she announced with a smirk and roll of her eyes. Without waiting for his objection she wiggled out of her pants, pulled off her jacket, and slid out of her blouse. She was not naked as she had offered previously- Rhiane still wore both undergarments which were only slightly more scandalous than swimwear might be depending on the design. Goosebumps rose on her bare arms and legs as she joined her fiance at the precipice that he consistently warned might invoke fear.

"Easier for you, maybe. If you let me drown, you'll have to do that interview alone, and then your mother will be so disappointed you'll end up with a one meter lease with the next girl," she teased. "I hope you're up to it, Lucius!" Rhiane took his right hand with her left and, with a crazed laugh like someone who had a wanton disregard for anything resembling caution, leapt off the cliff with her good leg bearing her weight for the jump. Prior to this moment she had not been a thrill-seeker. There were not enough hours in the day nor enough money in the bank to afford such a hobby. The rush of adrenaline as she fell into the pool below, however, was intoxicating.