A member of the production crew moved from behind the camera, into the line of sight of the host, and made a gesture to indicate they were off the air. Fluorescent lights that had been strategically placed around the pair dimmed seconds later as the regular lighting overhead was raised in equal measure. Despite how carefully this was balanced so as to not disorient either the crew nor the broadcasted individuals, it was jarring enough for Rhiane, whom was not used to the directed spotlights that had just been employed prior. She was subtly blinking away spots in her vision as she turned herself towards the media professional. Although he did not show it, he too was taking a few moments to adjust from being in the center of a bubble of brilliance to a more sensibly and gently diffused setting.

"It was wonderful to finally meet you," the princess elect said with an unfaltering smile. The edge from Dr. Gulsvig's medication was diminishing albeit slowly. None of the interviews that had been given during the contest had been as long nor as mentally exhausting as this one had been. Rhiane knew she had performed as spectacularly as was possible, and that there had not been an ounce of fatigue present as she discussed her fledgling 'romance,' but now she felt she was reaching the end of a mile long marathon. No matter how many of these might be in her future there was a definite period of adaptation to be expected. For her first day it would be abnormal if she wasn't tiring quickly considering the additional mitigating circumstances.

"Likewise, Ms. Black," the host said politely. "I hope you will do me the honors of more exclusive interviews," he added, clearly hoping that the farmer was naive enough to agree without conferring first with the queen. Nothing could be formally approved without her blessing, but if the peasant was ignorant enough to step into his waiting trap it could be easier to manipulate the circumstances in his favor.

"Like I said earlier, I believe Prince Luke and myself will be departing for a trip around the kingdom in the next couple days, so I can not commit myself to anything quite yet. I will keep you in mind, however, the instant I know what my schedule might allow. How could I not after the patience you showed me?" It was diplomatic and side-stepped any commitment. The interviewer had realized only a few minutes into his questions an hour earlier that the princess elect was charismatic and quick-witted, but he still underestimated her on the basis of her low birth, and as such he rather foolishly expected her not to see the game the nobles played for what it was. It took him several precious seconds to appreciate that Rhiane had not agreed to anything more than keeping him in mind. It was not unlike a reply from a seasoned veteran of the court.

"I would appreciate that, Ms. Black," the host answered. Being rude or short would get him nowhere. Not only would Queen Camilla not take kindly to veiled insults against her newest appointee, the prince whom he believed was infatuated with her was nearby, and there was an audience to a faux pas. He also was quite aware that the more friendly he was to Rhiane outwardly the better his chance of being the preferred public outlet to this facet of the crown.

"You must be tired," she said as she rose from her sofa and flashed one last smile. "The hour is late because of the unfortunate delays and- what is the saying- the news waits for no one? I'm sure you are eager to retire for the evening and greet a new day. If you will excuse me."

With a few confident steps she crossed the distance to where Ms. Viscomi was standing with her tablet clutched in her hands. Rhiane was still avoiding looking at her fiance directly though not out of malice. Things felt awkwardly uncomfortable and as the night wore on she was increasingly uncertain where she stood with Luke. It was easier to avoid him than deal with the perplexing situation directly. Neither one of them were passive individuals. The princess elect didn't trust herself or her feelings, much less the handsome and haughty heir, to not seize the opportunity to nightcap with a new argument bourne of the frustration that came when deprived of sleep for too long. They were both tossed into a pressure cooker of enough stressors it was a miracle that they could even feign happiness.

"Ms. Viscomi, thank you for putting your faith in me," Rhiane said with a nod of the head. There was no actual choice that the image manager had in the matter. The princess elect had proposed not sticking to the script and Prince Luke had all but steamrolled the plan to puppet the queen's carefully chosen answers. Preliminary reports were that the public loved and adored Rhiane just as much, if not more, than they had when she was announced at the engagement ball, but that was no guarantee that Queen Camilla would share their opinion of success. Had there been an actual choice Ms. Viscomi would have undoubtedly chosen not to follow the tactical deviations but she did not have the status to enforce her opinion. During the hour-long session she had only been able to monitor with increasing anxiety that she would be held responsible if this bizarre strategy failed.

"You did wonderfully, Ms. Black, but if I may suggest..." she began.

"I'll be at your disposal all day tomorrow I'm sure," Rhiane reassured, "since Dr. Gulsvig had recommended I stay at the palace while Prince Luke has work to attend to. Could we have a conference over my performance tomorrow? I believe I'll be more receptive to your input once I've had the benefit of a night's rest."

"Yes, of course," Ms. Viscomi reluctantly agreed, again knowing there was only an illusion of choice in the matter.