While Luke carried himself with a commanding, regal air that offered no explanation and gave no apologies, Rhiane was not used to having anyone fret about her the way Luce Viscomi did. On the farm she had she had managed her brother and father as employees. She was all too aware how frustrating it was to be dependent on someone to be timely, to perform the tasks you were responsible for overseeing, and then shoulder the fallout should there be error or failure. It had not been [i]her[/i] choice to visit the crown prince's private island retreat before the interview. Despite knowing the blame wasn't truly her own there was a sense of guilt. All of these attendants, stylists, and Ms. Viscomi had been subjected to being both powerless and devalued as they were forced to wait for what could have been hours upon hours. The princess elect simultaneously felt both empathy for their position of reliance as superiors and inferiors: she was the doll they had to deliver, just as she had been the owner that had to produce crops, yet they were bound by her apparent whims, just as any subordinate might be with their boss.

"I'll look over the questions while I eat," she finally announced agreeably. "My sincerest apologies, Ms. Viscomi, but I can not find it in me to decline dining with my fiance. I am sure you understand." Not only would it have created an uproar if she had objected, because it would display the friction of the couple supposedly in love, it would be a sign of defiance the monarch herself might seek to squash if Luke did not. Rhiane was also famished. Anything that Luke would have ordered she would have consumed without question, indigestion be damned, though surprisingly he had listened to her pedantic request and not deviated from her meal selection.

"Would you do me a favor, Ms. Viscomi? I'm sure the interviewer is here. Could you please tell him that I am sorry for the wait, but his highness invited me on an impromptu date and we lost track of the time?" she said as she sat down with a congenial smile. Her words were not completely dishonest but they painted a portrait of a romantic outing that had not transpired. Luke's direct address of her 'flirting' had killed the casual ease that Rhiane had slipped into; even now she was not certain if it was because she believed her fiance was mocking her or because she was terrified at being linked intimately to anyone on an emotional level. Regardless, the misleading insinuations would be broadcasted and appease both the interviewer and public's curiosities. The image manager was not alone in her diligence to a favorable reception.

"Yes, of course Ms. Black," the woman responded instantly, keying a message into her tablet as she hovered nearby, neither brave nor foolish enough to intrude on the dinner.

Rhiane carefully removed the dome from her plate and let her gaze fall over the soup, sandwich, and even dessert. At the edge of her vision she could see Luce Viscomi shifting her weight uncomfortably at the sight. Technically the princess elect was on a diet from now until death, but the only person that could and would circumvent caloric limitations was the same man who was seated opposite her, and it was unlikely the queen would oppose so long as the former farmer did not balloon in size. A sincere smile of delight blossomed on her features as she set the glass covering to the side and picked up her sandwich with barely contained glee. For Luke it was a simple thing to have whatever he wanted to eat with the snap of her fingers. Before Rhiane had been limited by a frugal budget and now she was limited by dieticians. This freedom spoiled her in a way that made her temporarily forget that he had belittled her in every conversation without fail.

"If your mother isn't going to disable the implant tonight," she whispered covertly since no one was near enough to overhear, "I should have a few things sent to your room ahead of us so I can wash off my make-up and change as quickly as possible. I don't want you to have to stay up any longer than you have to already," she offered before taking a large bite of the bred, steak, and toppings that had been assembled per Luke's instructions. The princess elect knew she had witnesses that would criticize her for not taking a dainty lady bite. She cared not; she was hungry and she knew the quicker she ate, the quicker she could bathe, and the quicker they could get the interview over with. It was in everyone's best interests to expedite the royal engaged pair retiring for the evening.