Rhiane looked a lot like her mother. As Luke stared back at the photo of a woman projected on the screen, he could not help but wonder what could have happened if Violet Black and her son did not die from the plague. Would a world with her mother and beloved brother still compel her to join the contest that introduced them to each other, or would she rather live her simple life out in the farming village, tending to livestock and the crops? A glance sideways at his fiancee told him that years after years of living, breathing, and walking the earth without her mother and brother had done little to heal the gash that their parting had done to her. He would hold her, tell her that it was okay to cry if she was feeling sad, or maybe he would just shut his mouth and sit with her until the sadness faded, but he could do nothing. 

Instead, he turned the television off and asked her to come with him, because he did not trust Tobias. It was rather odd how easily she nodded without an argument to the condescending way he offered his help to wash her hair. Not long after, they found themselves in the bathroom. He had kept the water running, neither hot nor cold, but warm enough not to chill her skin that cold autumn morning. It was half filled when they entered. 

Quiet minutes passed without anybody offering to start a conversation, when only the sound of the shower and its splashes as the droplets bounced off her hair and skin filled the room. As he had promised, Luke helped her wash her hair. Nothing more. Either he was not comfortable with the awkward silence, or he was afraid that she would break the awkward silence and make their time more awkward. For whatever reason, he left her alone.

It was not long until someone was knocking at the door. Luke was behind the desk then, browsing through the mails from most of the attendees of the meeting he had the day before. Most were apologizing for pushing through with the meeting as the news about the incident had not yet reached the local media. As if it bothered him that he had to talk a handful of obnoxious leaders while on pain medication. Responding to the letters was the least of his concern, therefore he asked one of his staff to draft responses and have him read it before sending out the letters. 

“Come in.”

The door welcomed Dr. Gulsvig. He had to do a quick routine check-up for his patients, though the doctor hinted knowing about what the couple were up to so early that morning. Luke shrugged it off, though he wondered how Rhiane, who was sitting on the bed in her robe, took it that rumors circulating about their intimacy. The appointment with the doctor did not last long, but so did the peace that came after his departure. As if hearing about the doctor’s positive review of Luke’s and Rhiane’s health, the prep team requested for permission to enter. On their heels was Ms. Luce Viscomi. The woman had her hair up in a bun atop her head. She looked confidence in her mid-length pale blue dress, but she looked away the first time she met Rhiane’s gaze. 

The ladies started ordering the princess elect to sit where there was a mirror, set up proper lighting, and started their work on her face and her hair. Dark circles under Rhiane’s eyes were testimony of the rough night she had to endure, and the nightmares she had to contend with over and over again, but it was no match against the make-up artists’ concealer. In no time, Rhiane was looking fresh as when she was presented as the winner of the contest. Her hair was done next as Luke was advised to step away from his computer and start cooperating with the stylists. A glare from the future king was enough to force even the pushy Ms. Viscomi to take a step back. But then, she followed her statement through by telling him that the tour of the kingdom and appearing in public was a vital part of his responsibility given the unrest in his mother’s kingdom. The latter was mildly enough to convince Luke to sit back and cross his arms over his chest in silent defiance. He did not protest when a couple of women fixed his mussed hair into a more presentable style. 

A light blue coat paired with pants of the same material and color was prepared for him. It was, of course, the latest fashion, and fit the prince so well he could be a subject of an editorial shoot right then and there. No one would have suspected that he was nursing a couple of cracked ribs if it was not for the news. For Rhiane, the stylists prepared a strappy beige cocktail dress whose V-shaped neckline dipped dangerously low. The A-line skirt of the dress barely brushed past her knees. Unlike Luke, the transparent silicone brace that kept her arm straight was on display and inviting questions. 

While they were finishing preparation of the couple, Ms. Viscomi wasted no time in briefing them. She told her how their day would go – that they would be meeting with the nobility for lunch first, then they would tour the field and sample the crops, until finally they would dine with the farmers at around five in the afternoon. They were expected to finish by around eight in the evening. At that point, they were expected to travel back to the airstrip where their transport awaited for them to fly them to their next destination. 

They were also told that the palace PR team had decided to inform the public the truth about the unfortunate delay in schedule. The accident due to the malfunction in the safety system of the vehicle, including the brakes, the condition of the crown prince and his fiancee, the unknown rescuers, and finally the attempted assassination in the clinic – the public was not spared. Ms. Viscomi might not have said the reasoning behind the unconventional move, but it was clear how they manipulated the general consciousness of the people to think that the rebellion’s cause was not as patriotic as they portrayed it. It would be something that he would have done, had he been in charge of appearances. 

“In other words, nothing was dressed or sugarcoated. It was the truth that we fed to the public this time.” Luce Viscomi passed a piece of paper to Rhiane, while the stylists finished her hair. “’The rebellion will do anything to destabilize the government’ is what we are selling this time. The public has to understand the biases, the money that was involved behind the scenes of the rebellion, how some rich people benefit from the ‘donations’ they pledge to the movement, how the uplifting of the quality of life of the poor was not the rebels’ priority.”