She didn’t remember much, but he did. Tobias probably did too. Evolab’s COO, Alec Wescott, would most likely have restless nights after the incident until the culprit was pinpointed. The young executive might have thought that the attendance of the princess elect was equivalent to opportunity knocking at his doorstep. He was attentive enough to usher it in, was confident enough to offer how his organization could turn the vision into reality, but what he failed to foresee was the risk that such an unfortunate episode could happen when there were important people involved. The blame could be passed on to the event and its organizers and one or more of his people could be charged with frustrated murder, treason, among other criminal offenses, which would be less ideal for the brand.

Luke avoided any updates on the matter, though, as it was making him more anxious. Last he heard was that, as instructed, the person who fetched the leftover food and wine was identified placed under surveillance. Samples of the leftovers were also retrieved as evidence and samples for lab analysts to use. In good faith, Evolab volunteered the use of their laboratories, but Luke had long been an unbeliever of good faith. Every act of kindness, no matter how genuine it may seem, was tainted with self-serving purpose that was either driven by greed or self-preservation. To protect the confidentiality of the matter, everything was done by palace staff under the supervision of Elena Villani. 

Although there had already been rumors circulating about the sudden disappearance of the former farmer, which was a nightmare for the PR staff and Luce Viscomi, they had prepared a statement to dispel the worries of the general public. The queen clearly had no intentions of allowing the incident to be broadcast for the same reason that Luke explained to the COO earlier – it was a sign of weakness. Besides, it could be interpreted that the crown was unwilling to spend for the immunization of the future mother of her heir, that the princess elect was not treated as an equal of the royals. 

When Rhiane asked Tobias to leave the room, he thought that she might truly be feeling well enough to be able to smile like she did. But then again, it might be just the pain killer doing its job. In the short period that he had known her, she had always placed the least priority on her health. Pushing through with the interview after the mild hypothermia the night before and picking stilettos when she had a sore ankle were two of the evidences he could think of that proved his observation. The happy face and devil-may-care disposition might be her way to cover for what she really felt inside. Was she afraid? Was she in pain? Did she pin the blame on him? 

Regardless, he undid the buttons of his uniform jacket then shrugged it off completely revealing a button-up white long-sleeved shirt underneath. He also undid the top two buttons of the shirt and proceeded to roll-up the sleeves to his elbows. It was a gesture that said that he was staying, as was promised. It perhaps it answered Sophia’s question.

“I did not want to risk it, in case she did.” The truth was that he had forgotten about the implants. What brought him to the Medical Tower was the pressing sense of responsibility for what happened to the farmer. It was his last-minute request that led her from the safety of his quarters and into the claws of death. There was no need for her to be in that event. It was his selfish plan to make Sophia jealous that had unknowingly endangered Rhiane. If she died because of it, Luke would not be able to live with himself not because the farmer had grown an attachment to the prince, but because he would then be no different from the queen. “I will be staying with you tonight implant or no implant, because you would not be in this situation if not for me. I should have been more careful.” The man paused as he detached his communication device from his wrist so that he could use it as a flat mobile device. “Unless you do not want my presence, then I shall ask for Tobias, your family, or whoever you wish.” His head was bent on the device, typing as he spoke gently to Rhiane. 

[i]'Not tonight, love,'[/i] he typed as a response. [i]'There is something I need to address.'[/i]

“My bedroom is fine as it is,” Luke responded when asked about its decorations, turning his attention back to her. “I honestly do not like the smell of the hospital as well – bad memories. Everybody must have at least one bad memory that happened in a hospital. The first vaccination, the first blood sample, the first major surgery, the first time a loved one passed, the second, the third. Makes me wonder if doctors are secretly masochists. I hear that they practice vaccination and taking blood samples from each other.” He paused as he watched her browse the menu of the food that she was allowed to eat for dinner. It was doubtful that the staff would allow her to consume more than what was prescribed by her doctors. She was very likely on a strict diet not because of her figure, but to prevent aggravating her internal systems. 

Amused of what she would like to have for dinner, he chose not to be the voice of reason and waited for her to make a list. “Your appetite will be the death of you,” Luke remarked joking, but he took a mental note of all her demands, even the level of customization she wanted for her food, then walked to the sliding glass door and poked his head to the hallway. A nurse was immediately there to do his bidding. He recited the patient’s requests as the nurse, who was clearly fighting to maintain a straight face and not insult the future queen, jotted it down on her tablet without any question. Apparently, she too did not have the heart to tell Rhiane that her orders would not all be fulfilled. The prince and the nurse both left it to the medical nutritionist to break the news to the princess elect.

Having been done with the chore, Luke turned on his heels. The door automatically slid close after sensing him walk away from it. “Say, if I happen to realize that I want to be a doctor, will you be willing to be my practice patient?” The cheeky grin on his face would have told her that he was talking about the needle-stabbing and all that. 

In his amusement of her mind’s ability to still want food after nearly dying because of said substance, the prince had left the device on her bed, where it buzzed as it received a message. [i]'Is her condition bad? Is she dead?'[/i] was what Sophia’s message said. Cleaning up the mess that was expected to blow up following the hypothetical passing of his fiancée could be a valid reason for him not to be able to leave the castle.