"I'm surprised she came," one of the reporters in the parting crowd murmured to a colleague as Prince Luke was passing them. She wasn't close enough to the throng of hungry broadcasters immediately next to the princess elect. As such she realized that any questions she might want to ask their future royal would not be heard much less answered.

"I wouldn't have," the man next to her responded as he adjusted his sunglasses and ran his hand through his hair. "Makes you wonder if Evolab would have ever imagined the daughter and sister of people they let die with their outrageous prices would be queen some day. Maybe we can't run the story but I don't envy them finding out the truth of their honored guest." That wasn't to say that Evolab's innovations weren't respected. Everyone realized that the company played no small role in helping civilization continue after nearly apocalyptic acts of biological warfare. More than anyone else, however, the media realized that no entity or person was wholly benevolent. Evolab had undoubtedly been started by people seeking self-preservation and to make a profit at the same time. In their current incarnation there were branches and site to the worldwide corporation that had scandal; after all, even charities had been proven time and time again to have their flaws.

"Luke," Rhiane greeted as she turned. The former farmer had expected to find her fiance in a tailored suit, or perhaps some new men's fashion that was making its rounds at the court, but not the military uniform he donned at this moment. For a second her face faltered. Judging by the cameras pointed in their direction her reaction was undoubtedly immortalized and to be plastered across the kingdom's news articles the next day. During the lapse her lips had parted slightly, her eyes had widened, and she had looked at him with undisguised appreciation. It wasn't a show. She genuinely found him to be strikingly handsome in his current attire. Perhaps it was because she recognized that he wasn't wearing anything different than what other servicemen wore and yet he made it look better. On the other hand, it was just as likely to be that for the first time he wasn't wearing clothing that was so expensive, so unreachable, so distinctively elite that he was visually her superior in every way. Luke didn't feel like he was standing on a pedestal while she was in a ditch, he just felt there, next to her, offering his arm politely.

"I knew this was a business event but I didn't realize it was a party. Perhaps a cocktail dress would have been more appropriate?" she commented once her mind no longer felt muddled by the sight in front of her. Tobias had waited patiently for her to regain her ability to speak before he let go of her arm and stepped back to allow space for her future husband to become the proper escort. Rhiane did not, however, close the distance as quickly as she might have the day before. No matter how hard she tried to forget, his romantic overtures of the night before had seared themselves in her psyche. There was a delicate balance to maintain between continuing their charade and giving false hope of sincere emotional attachment.

"Your highness," the bodyguard said, lowering his voice to a whisper and turning his head so that no clever members of the press would be able to read his lips and determine what he was saying. "I brought some of Miss Black's medication in case her shoe choice begins to cause an issue," he reassured, "I will leave it at your discretion." It was the most polite way that Tobias could admit that, despite how congenial the princess elect was with her servants, she had been resistant to his suggestion of preemptive dosing. Fortunately the brazen woman had not been so foolish as to remove her brace. The almost imperceptible silicon support was wrapped firmly around the weakened ankle in question.

Rhiane herself had not heard the minimal exchange and so, while she was curious what words might be shared between the two cousins, she was happy to proceed into the building. Hopefully they would have a few appetizers- though she was not overly optimistic that she would be able to stomach their offerings. Even without knowing the reporters were aware of her history (rather than the fabrication that had been sold to the masses) she was a bit sickened to know where she was going. It was possible she would be face to face with the same executives that so callously believed that if the poor died it was simply the 'way of things.' Certain nobles certainly held such viewpoint. None of them that she was aware of, however, had either directly or indirectly contributed to her personal tragedies of the past.