The crown prince that the kingdom learned to both love and hate was not usually described as a kind man. He was a very passionate debater, an intelligent speaker, a shrewd businessman, a dedicated soldier, and a certified player. Those who had the pleasure of working with him would have described him as a stubborn opinionated elitist. But very few would actually say that he was a nice man. Luke could attest to that, because in truth, it was very tiring to be nice to people. It was very tiring to be nice to a person who seemed to challenge his resolve by displaying, either purposefully or naturally, the trait that he so despised in a person.

His brows furrowed into a frown and he was about to ask her whether she would feel better if he treated her like the peasant that she was instead of trying to take her as his equal when she leaned away from him and forced the door open. Raindrops spattered all around the mountain, sparing not the wrecked SUV. It tapped on the remains of the broken windshield and trespassed the vehicle through the gaps. He watched her pull herself out then opened the backdoor for him. Like one of his servants, he thought.

Shaking his head, he started the painful maneuver from the passenger seat to the next. She might notice that his left hand cradled his midsection while he labored to move from one seat to the other. Much as he would have wanted to hurry into the backseat and save her from being drenched by standing in the open, the prince paused for a second at the driver’s seat to catch his breath and pull the latch underneath the passenger’s seat so that it was as close to the dashboard as possible. 

By the time he had made it outside, the droplets that drummed his shoulders were more pronounced. He used the body of the vehicle as his crutch and limped his way to the backseat. Good thing it had leather covers, else the two of them would be miserably wet and cold. But as he allowed himself to crash inside, Luke clutched the side of his shirt where he feared might have sustained fractured bones. He struggled with gravity as he grunted and pulled himself into a sitting position behind the seat that he previously occupied, his legs stretched out as far as it could. It was so Rhiane could join him if she so decided. However, it was not as if he was about to give her a choice. 

Luke leaned his head against the slivered glass pane with his eyes tightly shut and his jaw clenched. He angled his body so that he was partially facing her. His right hand clutched his side as his chest rose and fell in quick but shallow breaths. “I -- can’t breathe.” Changing the angle, the prince allowed his back to fall flat against the backrest. He was not asking for help, but was offering the opportunity for her to do an act of kindness.

Acting was not so difficult when half the work had been completed for him by the very unfortunate circumstance that they were in. It was true that his side hurt, and it was true that the injury had made it difficult to laugh or take a deep breath. All he needed to do was add a little more emotion, just a few more creases in between his brows and strain in his voice. It was true that he had no talent in acting, but some things came naturally when the need arise. He could not count on her to stay inside the vehicle and wait for rescue. When she got tired of waiting, she might insist on braving the thunderstorm, forcing her legs to carry her as far as the implants would allow, and hoping that she would reach the road and that somebody would pass by to help them. Unfortunately for her, Luke would not allow it. 

It was for his own good, he thought, that she should stay near and not do more harm to herself. Because if she did get hurt while outside, then he would be forced to look for her while he was struggling with pain himself.