What rapport had been established between the pair during their time on the island sanctuary had been shattered. Regardless of whether Luke was purposefully sabotaging himself or it was wholly unintentional, the damage had clearly been done. Had he been a close friend teasing her she might have given him more latitude with his jesting. The crown prince's posture, his smug query if she was flirting, his repetition of calling her by an honorific that grated on her nerves, the judgmental gaze, and the suggestion she ought to save seduction for later were interpreted by Rhiane as a taunting rejection. In one fell swoop he had made the princess elect go from feeling as if they were on the precipice of understanding one another to confidence in her belief he still did not see her as a [i]real[/i] person.

Initially she had trepidation about taking this trip so that Luke could relax. Once she allowed herself to indulge, however, Rhiane had found it easier to forget that they were a prince and princess elect politically engaged and performing a charade for the entire kingdom. For a few fleeting moments they were a daredevil duo, a man and a woman, a couple of foolhardy young adults trying to escape from societal pressure. There had the tugging of camaraderie and so she had dropped her guard. The playful banter she had directed at Luke was not unlike how she conversed with other people in her life (albeit with different flattery): her father, her brother, Seb, her favorite bartender in town, her neighbors, her casual friends that called on her when familial life and responsibilities were taxing. Even the occasional fling heard was privy to her witty retorts and jokes. These individuals would jab her back but she knew where she stood in terms of their relationship with each and every one. She had no such understanding with her fiance and so, when she realized her lapse, and that he had fallen back to his egotistical self-gratification, she assumed the worst. More than once he reminded her in words or actions that he could be polite in public but would condescend her in private.

The mischievous joy in her visage bled out slowly until there was not even a trace of it left on her features. What had once been a Cheshire smile was a flat expression devoid of laughter. Walls that Rhiane had let crumble were erected in fervor as she was reminded that Luke would not, could not, reciprocate any appreciation she had of him. She was, after all, just a [i]peasant.[/i] He might have encouraged her not to demean herself but that did not mean that he saw her suddenly as someone deserving [i]his[/i] respect.

She fell suspiciously quiet on their hike up the craggy rock back to their hovercraft. On any other day except this one she would have shown the heir to the throne why she had triumphed in trials of strength and athleticism during the contest. Because Rhiane was shivering cold, drenched, and sporting a brace on an ankle twisted the night before, she was far from her prime. A few times she slipped as her fingers and toes went numb in protest at circumstances. She wasn't worried about hypothermia- that would require longer exposure and more extreme temperatures- but the fading sensations made her grip inconveniently falter. By the time they were at the top of the rock formation her limbs were tingling and her wet hair had become stiff as it both chilled and dried slightly. All of her muscles ached from the less than ideal conditions and she pitched forward onto the ground in mixed frustration and exhaustion. Even if the pizza would have made her stomach ache she would have devoured the entire pie on the spot were it still available for consumption. Her stomach growled quietly as it joined the coup against her control.

After a few seconds of laying still she pushed herself up and walked over to the ledge they had jumped off not an hour before. Rhiane was still shaking, her teeth chattering and making her jaw sore, but her eyes fixed on the deep blue pool twenty meters below. She offered nothing by way of explanation to her companion nor did her body language belie her thoughts. The princess elect simply stood mute and stared for several long moments.