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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Hashih
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If Rhiane earned her place in the upper echelon of the society, Nolan was born with his. But unlike Tobias, Nolan was a son of a close ally of the throne, thus he was entrusted with the life of its heir. The look he gave Rhiane was one that any member of the high society would have given a peasant, especially one who was demanding to be acknowledged. He turned to Luke, possibly hoping that the younger man would rescind the order if only to show the woman her place, but then Luke nodded which left Nolan with no choice but obey.

The moment she asked for privacy, he already knew that it was because she had closed her mind to the possibility that he had a point and she was confining herself only with what she understood, what she believed was right. Rhiane was prepared to launch an argument and a plea, or even a justification for her behavior that morning and Luke just listened. If there was anything he learned from being well-acquainted with women, it was that a man should keep his mouth shut while a woman was in the middle of stating her case.

“My father will do anything for my mother,” he said as if an afterthought to break the silence inside the vehicle after she was done talking. “It was not my idea to drag your mother into this, I doubt that it was the palace’s as well. The television networks are loosely regulated, they do not answer to the crown. Contrary to popular belief, we do not screen the news that are being shown to the general public. We just manage handling of certain information, so it does not reach the media.” But he did get her point. It was unfair to make him make up for something that was not his doing, but he did get what had made her so angry.

“You don’t have to say anything about what happened yesterday. In fact, I am asking you to keep your thoughts to yourself. Do not stop me or contradict my words when I speak to the press and address the people. They are my people too, Rhiane. They have been mine long before you came along. You may have lived the life they are living now, but I am charged to keep them alive.” A civil war would destroy the economy, tip the delicate balance of power. Worst case, it may incite another war as world powers would certainly risk investing in either the rebellion or the crown, hoping to reap gains when the dust settled. He loved his mother’s kingdom. To see it in ruins was not something he dreamt of nor something he would want to witness in his lifetime. Which was why, against his will, he begrudgingly concurred with the foolish idea of the queen’s advisors. “You may lead the conversations with the farmers, mingle with them, listen to their problems, but trust me to handle the rebellion.” The fact that the incident was publicized, he was expected to make a comment.

Rhiane was saved from answering immediately by a sharp rap on the driver’s door. It was Tobias presumably with the requested change of clothes. “May I interrupt for a bit,” Tobias hesitated upon seeing the humorless expressions on the couple’s faces. A small bag was handed out for Rhiane. “The owner insists Ms. Black to keep the clothes, she also does not want to accept any form of compensation for these old clothes.” The package was set down to the driver’s seat before the guard shut the door again.

“Keep my coat, but do not wear those clothes.” After a couple of seconds, he added, “Please.” Being engaged to a commoner, regardless that it was the tradition, was humiliating for the upper class. He was just beginning to wrap his fingers around the idea, then she would further his humiliation by dressing as one.
Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Syrenrei
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"The rebellion is why we are doing this," she persisted in arguing, "and they haven't stumbled just because I've become the princess elect." Rhiane let out a sigh and ran a hand through her hair. The palace couldn't win this war with the strategies they currently held for battle. While the aristocracy lived better lives than generations past, the laborers toiled with increasing desperation for an improvement in their daily lives. Right now the former farmer was a novelty that won their sympathy and loyalties, but when she died, and Queen Camilla certainly would not subject her to more than a decade of the peasant's presence, so too would the public's favor perish. There was not even a guarantee they had a year before the masses lost their faith in the monarchy's intentions.

"I trust you and believe in you," she continued honestly, "and that is why I am telling you this approach will not resonate with the people you have to reach. They need hope, Luke, that is what they will follow. You could shoot every man and woman associated with the revolution and it still would not die because this is the culmination of numerous years' frustrations. You can not point your finger at the coup, call them villains, and expect them all to believe someone who does not even believe their struggles are real, who thinks their suffering is of their own making, and that they are idiots. Don't take the opportunity to give a rousing speech of damnation. Give them a reason to believe in you like I believe in you because that will be infinitely more persuasive."

Stagnation in the philosophies of the crown had gotten them here and that is why they were so blind to the solution. Rhiane did not profess to have all the answers, as she was quite aware of her own shortcomings, but she thought it was madness that they failed to consider they were the problem. For the better part of the last century they had deemed their method of management and control a success. Now that it was crumbling, however, they kept insistently proclaiming themselves experts that could not be misguided. No tactic lasted forever. If the entitled aristocracy continued to make gains, and their whims capitulated to, then discontent would fester until it was the plague that made the fortifications tumble. Once that occurred it would not matter who Luke perceived as the villain.

She flashed a smile of gratitude at Tobias as he deposited the bag onto the seat and was not surprised when her fiance objected the moment the door closed. "If they are truly your people you should not be embarrassed of them or ashamed at the way they dress," she pointed out softly. Though she suspected he saw her as different than the commoners outside, she considered her life on the fields and in a rural outcropping of New Rome just as much a piece of her as this new status recently acquired. Arguably the mass-manufactured shirts and work pants suited her more than the extravagant gowns of courtly balls. She pulled the parcel into her lap and withdrew a clean button-up shirt approximately her size as well as khaki slacks made of a durable material she recognized.

"Were I to go out there in this dress and your coat, with the baron, his wife, and yourself at my side in designer clothing that costs more than they make in a year, they would think me insincere. They need to perceive me as genuine, as someone who is still one of them, rather than a woman who has discarded her past and fully immersed herself in a world to which they do not belong. You and I both know the upper class will never accept me no matter what I wear. I was born to the wrong family in their eyes. What I can do, and what your mother more or less hired me to do, is appeal to the rest. I can show them I am proud of where I come from, so that they can take pride in both themselves and me, and that I am humble enough to be practical, so they do not feel awkward."

The princess elect pulled off his jacket and then, with more difficulty, unzipped the back of her dress to pull it up and over her head. She was shivering as she started to pull on the pants. Goosebumps alighted on her flesh as she fumbled to manipulate her arm adequately to yank the fabric over the curve of her hips. It was not as flattering as Luce would have wanted but it was not dirty, stained, ripped, or unsightly. "If I'm wrong then I'll never wear anything like this ever again even in private," she promised. Putting her arms through the sleeves proved to be twice as arduous as challenge. Rhiane sucked in her breath and pushed through the pain that flashed through the limb in protest at the twisting and turning she was attempting. The brace did not yield, shielding her from worsening her condition, but it could not eliminate how aggravating this was to her mending bone.

After a moment she fell back against the seat. The pants were on, as was the shirt, but the latter had not been buttoned and she had not yet attempted the boots with their infuriating laces. As stubborn as she was being she already felt half-defeated before exiting the vehicle. The crown prince did not yield an inch to any of her suggestions on any topic, the couple outside loathed her, and she had a multitude of dilemmas including the estrangement of her family, the rebellion's assassination attempts, and her ability to sleep through the night after her trauma. "Maybe I'm not doing them for them but for me," she whispered to herself, "because I'm so tired and in these clothes I feel like I can rest."
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Hidden 4 yrs ago 4 yrs ago Post by Hashih
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She was correct, he shouldn’t be ashamed of the choice of practical garments these people wore on the field. Fashion was the least of his concern, anyway. However, both him and her were holding positions that was above and beyond these people would ever be. They were supposed to be the reflection of the nation and the aspiration of its collective consciousness. What they wore and how they conduct themselves, therefore, mattered not only to fashionistas and socialites, but also to political allies and the world stage.

To say that he was disappointed was an understatement. While they disagreed on a number of things, he expected her to at least consider her betrothed’s reputation when choosing which path to follow. But the truth was, it was who she was. The palace’s stylist could dress her up in the most expensive designer clothes, but it would not change the fact that she was indeed born to the wrong family. Ms. Black did not belong to his world as much as he did not belong to hers. This was who she was.

Like Cinderella after the clock struck twelve, she stripped off the glamour and slipped back into being the peasant she truly was. It was difficult to watch not because she struggled with her broken arm, but because by watching he realized how he had made himself believe that by wearing the brands that he wore, she somehow transformed into a different person, that she was not a farmer but his princess. He stared at the door latch, fighting against the itch to pull it open and be free from the truth. It was only his consideration for her half-dressed fiancee that stopped him. “And what about you?” He asked the latch the question. “You’re painting a bigger target on your back by doing this. The rebels hate you because you are slowing them down. The lords and ladies hate you because they do not see you as their equal. This,” he gestured with his hand at what she was doing, “only makes your standing on both sides worse.” There was also the matter of the queen’s opinion, but ultimately it was Rhiane at the top of his mind as he considered the strategy. He can handle the high society, but by being more likable to the masses, she was getting more and more annoying to the rebellion. The more she slowed down their advances, the more they would want her erased from the picture.

Just like his dare to leap off the cliff, she may not have considered the possibility that she might not survive the fall. When, after a stolen glance, he confirmed that she was sufficiently dressed, he put his hand on the door. But before he exited, he heard her voice whisper words which were perhaps not for him. “I was going to carry the burden for both of us, but -” He shrugged. Still without looking at her, he pushed the door open. “Do whatever you want. The stage is yours.”

Cameras flashed as soon as he stepped out of the vehicle. Although the soil was still damp from the overnight downpour, the air was crisp and the sky was blue that afternoon. Farmers and their families had gathered around the parked vehicles, curious about its passengers. Joining the sea of faces were the baron and his wife. Work boots looked odd when worn with the formal clothes. Without changing into the ones prepared for him, he moved to the rear passenger door where Tobias was standing. He may be rather upset at Rhiane, but the nation need not know that. They had started the charade, might as well continue with it and see where it led them.

From the crowd that had suddenly fallen into fragile silence at their future king’s appearance, came a child running and laughing with abandon, chasing after his ball. Because of surprise and the size of what Luke guessed was a two-year-old, the guards failed to stop him. The mother shouted a name from the crowd, just as the ball landed on the prince’s shoes. The guards prevented the woman from advancing, though her voice had stolen the attention of both Luke and the child.

“Pick the child up, and take the irresponsible parents of this boy,” ordered Lady Ferullo. The boy had light brown hair and similarly brown round eyes which started to tear up. He wore a dark blue oversized button-up shirt, probably handed down by an older sibling, a pair of shorts, and muddy shoes. It was dirtied by playing outdoors. His mother had the same eyes, though it was round and wide for a different reason. She pleaded silently with a guard to forgive the innocence of a boy, that her husband’s wages are barely enough to feed six mouths. A penalty was imposed by the local lords to lesser violation of the common law.

Without Rhiane to escort out of the vehicle, Luke picked the child up before Nolan or Tobias or the other guards could. “Little Alessandro,” he whispered, smiling slightly as the boy’s teary eyes met his. He heard the baroness gasp, frantically gesturing for somebody to take the charge off their prince.

Apparently, a stranger's face was not welcomed. The boy's face grew scared, his mouth quivered, and not a few moments later burst into tears while cradled in the arms of the prince. Luke couldn't help but chuckle, remembering his younger siblings when they were the boy's age. A guard gave the ball back, calming the boy a little as the prince pointed to the boy's mother as if telling him that he was not lost. He turned the sniffling child over to the guard to be returned to the mother. "No harm done here, my lady," Luke addressed the baroness. In an instant, he was back to the snobbish prince.
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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Syrenrei
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To say that the princess elect was dispirited was a vast understatement. After Luke exited the vehicle she did not follow, which he either anticipated by failing to take her hand, or wished to happen by refusing to look at her while he spoke with such palpable disappointment. One of the bodyguards closed the door once it was apparent she was not yet ready to make her grand entrance. In the pervasive quiet, with the protection of tinted reflective windows, she leaned forward and buried her face in the upholstery to fight back the tears. She had sincerely believed that she could live without the support and encouragement of anyone within the castle walls. Rhiane was so determined to fight for the common people and to secure a future for her family that she was filled with determination to endure the worst that a life as a peasant-turned-royal had to offer. In practice she felt more broken than the limb that rested in lap secured in a brace. Everyone disapproved of her, from the rebellion to the crown, from Luke to her father, from the aristocracy to the CEOs of major corporations. Nothing she could do was correct. No one would be proud of her and each step she took in any direction damned her further. For a fleeting moment she wished that the bullet intended to fell her had met its mark.

"I'll check," Tobias discreetly told Nolan after he pulled out his earpiece. Given the argument he just witnessed minuted ago, he was certain that whatever was keeping the other half of the 'happy couple' in the SUV would need a delicate approach. At a minimum he would not allow a private discussion to be broadcast over the encrypted channel employed by their security detail. The bodyguard gave Luke a pointed look that edged on silent gloating before he opened the door only as wide was physically necessary, slid into the backseat, and closed the door behind him. Perhaps the symbolism was not lost on his cousin- Tobias was taking the place that Luke had so willingly vacated.

"Can I be of assistance?" he asked more gently once he took in the scene. Rhiane had been startled by his entry but had not been quite quick enough to hide the position she had been in seconds before wherein her body language reflected despondence. She leaned back into her seat and hurriedly tried to finish buttoning her shirt. Unfortunately, although she had managed the top half she was fumbling over the bottom half. The former farmer was trying to hide it, or at least pretend it did not exist, there was a slight tremble in her fingers that was stymieing her progress.

"I just need to get my boots on," Rhiane explained as she forced a smile. She supposed that she did have a friend in the capital, even if Luke was convinced he had ulterior motives, and for this she was glad. Somehow she doubted the queen took into account the disposition of her nephew when appointing him to this detail, nor did she anticipate he would treat the princess elect so warmly, but it was an anchor that kept her from feeling adrift in a turbulent sea.

"Allow me," Tobias insisted as he carefully guided her feet into the footwear and laced them up tightly. "If you become overwhelmed or need to stop for any reason, just ask me for the time and I will know you are ready to leave."

"Thank you," she said, but then after a pause inquired, "but what if the tour has not officially concluded or Luke is not yet ready to go?"

"I will handle it," was all he replied before he put his hand on the door. "Are you ready? They are quite excited to meet you," he added in hopes it might lift her mood. She nodded with a more pensively genuine smile and he pushed open the door, taking her hand to help her out of the tall car and onto the ground safely. Cameras turned as well as the attention of the gathered crowd. It was impossible to discern what drew the greatest reaction: the elegant manner in which she was escorted by her handsome bodyguard, the way even old work clothes hugged her curves, that she had replaced her alluring dress, or the jubilantly warm expression that charmed press and public alike so effortlessly.

Lord and Lady Furello were predictably scandalized but they did not have an opportunity to make snide comment before Rhiane had approached and spoken herself. "I must confess I've been looking forward to this tour. Pomegranates are just coming into season I believe; would it be possible to begin in one of the fields dedicated to them? Perhaps we could take a few with us if any are ripe yet?" she added with a charismatic smile that set off wild clicking from the media presence. "Please, lead the way baron, if you would be so kind."

During lunch the nobility had underestimated the shrewd wit and tactics of their princess elect. They had looked down upon her because of her birth, her profession, and the company she kept before the contest landed her at the capital. She would not pretend she was not almost spitefully manipulating this social encounter for her benefit. The garment change earned her the instant respect and admiration from the gathered peasants, the reporters loved how engaging and unpredictable she was because it made for an exciting story (not to mention that she treated them well rather than with hostility), and thus neither would leap to suspecting her of being passive aggressive with the upperclass. Rhiane was nothing if not an excellent spokeswoman. Had Luke not seen her temper in person he might not believed she was capable of such profound anger.

"Oh yes, well..." the baron cleared his throat. There was not much he could say. He could not every well argue that she was preying on his ignorance- because he had presented himself as an expert over his own lands, because he'd have to confess on the record his lack of knowledge, because he'd have to lower himself in front of this interloper, and most of all because he could not very well let it be known that he had disparaged the darling of the nation. After a prolonged pause he turned a light shade of pink, turning himself around to try to get his bearings relative to where the crop in question could possibly be planted.

Rhiane moved past him and approached a teenager who was standing with her sister, the former which might have been fourteen to sixteen years of age and the latter no more than eight. They represented two distinct turning points in her life. It was when she was a teenager that the plague swept through her village and reduced her mother from a pillar of strength to a fragile woman succumbing to illness. The little girl reminded her of the first time she had gone romping through acreage with a basket and instructions to harvest fruits and vegetables for dinner.

"Would you help me?" she asked the younger of the pair, though her eyes flitted up to the elder sibling for a sign of approval. "Could you take me to the pomegranates? Maybe you could hold my good hand? I'm afraid the other is hurt," she apologized. The girl hesitated, glanced up to the elder sister, and then nodded enthusiastically. The brunette held out the good hand in question and took her new little companion's with a motherly affection. The gathered group was enthralled with the princess elect. It was hard to tell if they even remembered the presence of their patrons with such an enchanting, thoughtful, and considerate celebrity wooing her way into their hearts. Lord Furello and Luce had no room to protest. Criticizing a child's company would have been political suicide.

"Miss Black, how are you feeling today?" one eager correspondent called out.

"With all due respect," Rhiane said without faltering, though her injured arm was more visibly shaking at the memories this conjured, "I would rather focus on the tour. I don't think it would be fair to the people that are out here in the cold to be with us if I spent time dwelling on such an unpleasant incident. Perhaps we could speak about this later at another time? I have many questions for Lord Furello about the equipment he employs, recent trials for new products, the crop rotation timetable and its variables at this elevation, the seed to yield ratio..."

She continued on as they began their tour. It became immediately clear that, although she aimed every inquisitive query at the elder gentleman, there were less than half that he could answer- and the ones he did were ones that she almost threw at him out of pity. To his great humiliation she fielded responses from the farmers that walked with them. Rhiane walked with such confidence, with such obvious proficiency and expertise on the topic evident, and with so much adoration from her audience, to the casual observer she was a goddess of the earth leading her devout, and that the plain garb was but to show her unity with her domain. She was in her element. The sultry brunette walked lightly, smiled brightly, laughed and joked with strangers to their mutual delight, and basked in afternoon sun with an breathtaking glow. Luke had asserted it was her show, and it was, but even the journalists were woefully unprepared for how much a truly happy Rhiane could make them fall in love with her all over again.

This was, thus far, without reservation, the most resounding success of the engagement tour.
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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Hashih
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If her declaration that she found rest in the clothing of a common person was a reminder that the woman that would bear his heir and the future of the nation was farmer, then the whole afternoon was a confirmation that the nightmare had indeed bled into reality and the reality was one that he was living in.

Not a single word was spoken between the couple since Rhiane had stepped out of the vehicle to surprise everybody in attendance, and perhaps making headlines throughout the nation and the world at her bold choice. Luke had known without glancing over his shoulder how she chose to appear before these people and whether or not it served its purpose, what was done had already been done. There was no more room to backpedal and only the future could tell if she had made the right choice or if she was, as she confessed inside the vehicle, selfishly doing it for herself.

It was the baroness who was the first to verbalize her disapproval, which she bundled tightly with the pretense of concern. “Had she been feeling cold in the clothes the stylists chose for her, she should have said something to them and not to these common people. They have little money to spare and perhaps most of it are allotted to food, not clothes,” Lady Ferullo was telling her husband, though a bit louder than what was necessary. They were at the plantation by then, strolling in between neat lines of green which was dotted with the occasional red bud of a pomegranate and under a dome protecting the crops from the impending harsh weather. It was almost winter, but the leaves were green, and blossoms sprout out of its twigs as if daring the cold to stop it. Research and technology had enabled trees to thrive even when it was not supposed to.

Luke ignored the comment. He essentially ignored most people in attendance. A reporter who had braved the crown prince’s temper stepped into his line of sight at one point while Rhiane was lightly conversing with an older woman. The reporter commented how quickly the couple were back to their feet given what happened yesterday. “It is expected of us,” was his simple answer. But there was no warmth in the way the words formed in his mouth. Unlike his fiancee, the prince’s responses were direct, clinical, and businesslike. If he could answer a question with one syllable, he would. And since he told Rhiane that the afternoon was hers, he refrained from commenting about the failed assassination, reassuring the reporters that the palace would release an official statement soon. Just the same, he avoided any encounter with the farmers, though he quietly listened to their narration about the village and the farm. Any questions that he may have – and he had many – were taken note of in his head, to be researched later when he had time.

Perhaps what he enjoyed most was how Lord Ferullo fumbled for answers. Surely it would be taken out of the broadcast but knowing how little the man knew about the economy of the lands entrusted to him was enough.

The afternoon quietly slipped into darkness as the day was shortened by the season. Soon, they were ushered into the town hall. It was not quite as spacious and grand as the dining hall the aristocrats occupied in the villa, but it was clean, well-maintained, and decent enough. Several tables were setup on the ground, forming a semi-circle around a raised dais. Rhiane and Luke were seated beside each other in perhaps the best seat in the assembly. Beside Luke was the Baron and his wife, while taking position beside Rhiane was an elder, who acted as the commoner leader of the town. He was not a nobleman, but was entrusted a role in governance. The other tables were occupied by selected families.
A plated dinner of delicacies prepared from produces of the land was offered to the esteemed guests, while they were entertained by traditional music and dance from years almost forgotten because of the war. Conversations about the harvest and the seed quality continued even through dinner. Luke’s silence did too. By that time, it was also rather apparent that the couple was avoiding interacting with each other. It could be that both were busy talking with other persons, sometimes Luke would step aside to make a call or answer a call, while Rhiane entertained the farmers and their families with her kind smile and friendly demeanor. Still, it was a glaring flaw, something that the Lady Ferullo would not forget to talk about the next time she met with her other highborn friends.
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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Syrenrei
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It was dinner that presented the first complication that sent Luce into a frenzy. Alcoholic beverages were common enough among the poor, especially the hardy farmer folk that were present at that evening's gathering, in both the form of wine and beer. This and itself would not have been an issue two days ago. Unfortunately, the prince and princess elect had both been injured the day prior and had taken various medications necessary to expedite their healing. She had checked and confirmed with the attending medical staff several times that neither of her charges had taken a dose or were otherwise under the influence before the meal was served. Frequently liquor could cause complications when in conjunction with certain prescriptions. Servings of pinot noir, apple cider, and stout were distributed to everyone of age with no objections.

She was watching from afar while plates were being set when Tobias sidled up to her silently. "Ms. Viscomi," he intoned, "may I remind you of this morning?" The warning did not immediately click. Her brows were furrowed for several long seconds before she realized that he was referencing the erotic sounds coming out of the room shared by the currently agitated couple. Normally this would not be any of her business, as she did not honestly care about their private life, but it was relevant to this event. Chances were slim that Rhiane had conceived, yet she could not pull aside the woman and question her on her cycle, and she definitely could not quiz them on the use of protection. They were, after all, engaged for the purposes of procreation. She turned more and more pale. Even if there was a .001% chance it was her duty to not let any poor decisions be made on the presumption it would not matter later. Opportunists such as the Ferullos would calculate back nine months and slander the royal family were they to ignore the risk.

"I'll intercept this one," he offered, implying the onus to halt the flow from waiters was on Luce. Without waiting for her reply he strode over to the princess elect and leaned over her shoulder when Luke stepped to the side to take one his numerous phone calls. "My apologies, Ms. Black, but in your condition you can only drink water," she said with a gesture towards her arm. He lifted away the wine that had been set before her and replaced it with a glass of benign water. As he passed his cousin he frowned slightly to himself. The fact that Luke could not feign happiness for his betrothed implied a persistent level of immaturity. He ought to have been delighted, because alienating Rhiane would make it that much easier to lure her to the rebellion, but he also loathed to see her in any emotional pain no matter the source.

Luce continued to fret, as was her job, over the lack of communication between the two people in the room that were supposed to be madly in love. Every time she managed to arrange for someone to bridge the divide, either a reporter with a question for both, or someone to introduce themselves formally to the pair, the crown prince had left his seat or the princess elect took control when it was evident he did not want to involve himself in the slightest. It was frustrating. She did not approve of Rhiane's clothing choice- she detested it- but she had large smiles, impeccable etiquette, she was thoughtful and sweet, respectful of her audience without being overtly pandering, she could provide expert advice on a myriad of topics related to the industry, and was everything she could have wanted. Had Luke given half as decent a performance it would have been a success that would earn her praise from the queen herself. No present seemed to notice or care, however, with the exception of herself and the two aristocrats that looked as if they thought they were being subjected to torture.

Shortly after dessert was brought out Rhiane started to wilt. Her desire to remain was strong but there were visible signs that her willpower could not contain. She continued to endear herself to the peasants, especially the elder to whom she'd made some gentle suggestions based on her experience with products and equipment, but she was forced to move her injured arm into her lap to conceal its trembling. Her shoulders had begun to subtly droop. Answers to questions were ever so slightly slower as her exhaustion clouded her mind. Tobias had provided her an out but she was afraid of the repercussions. Luke did not want to stay but she did not know if she left now if he'd consider her a failure and remain angry. She feared not living up to the lofty expectations others held, of being perceived as weak and therefore a burden, of making a fatal misstep, and so she tried to pretend that nothing was amiss.

Tobias pulled out his device and, under the pretense of doing something work-related, sent a personal message to the crown prince: She isn't giving the signal to leave. You're the only one close enough to intervene. He hoped this would alert Luke. Much to his chagrin he knew Rhiane was more likely to do something to please her fiance than him; but whether the heir to the throne recognized this or noticed she was figuratively dead on her feet he was uncertain. The bodyguard would not offer up any additional information. If the prince knew how affected the stubborn former farmer was when he had exited the SUV on poor terms he might be more insufferably smug.
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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Hashih
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The food was decent and so was the wine. It was not something Luke would crave or miss, but homecooked food was a novelty that was missing in the capital. The flavors were unique in the region, boasted the baron at one point. He was quite proud of the local cuisine, which was obvious with the speed at which he devoured the contents of his plate. His wife ate with more poise than he, often silently reminding the lord of his manners. The prince, on the other hand, took his time. Chewing and examining the food was a perfect excuse to discourage a conversation, even with his fiancee.

Rhiane, on the other hand, did not appear as if she was about to speak to him anytime soon. Starting a conversation with the stubborn woman was not in his priority as well. It was as if the cold war between the couple had escalated to a point where both were engaged in a silent contest wherein the loser was the person who would first speak to the other. It may be a childish contest, but each had a reason to be frustrated with the other for. And perhaps that night they had both reached the limits of their patience.

Luke had ignored her and was continuing to do so when the device on his wrist vibrated. The notifications were all disabled, except for messages coming from any member of the security team. Because of the perceived urgency, he glanced down at the screen just as the text floated on the black screen. Tobias. If it was anybody else, Luke would have appreciated the information, but it was Tobias. The underlying message told the prince how his cousin closely watched the princess elect, how sensitive Tobias was to her needs, and how easily it was for the guard to see through her bright smiles and witty responses. At the same time, he felt bad for allowing himself to be blinded by selfish emotions to such extents that he had failed to look out for the farmer. Since Evolab, he had decided not allow the rebels success in their endeavor, which was to position Rhiane as a martyr in order to deface the ruling house. None of it would matter if she fell ill because he was too proud to ask her how she was faring or if her arm was even bothering her.

“It is rather late, my lord.” His quiet voice commanded attention from the baron while talented young citizens played music in the background.

Lord Ferullo’s eyebrows traveled up his forehead, coaxing wrinkles to ripple the otherwise smooth complexion. Suddenly, the wife was interested in the conversation too. “The people have prepared more presentation for you and your fiancee, your highness. I highly recommend staying a few more minutes.”

“We must decline as we are behind schedule and Rhi –” He caught himself about to say the farmer’s name, followed by a declaration that she needed to rest. The person in question was sitting beside him, and she would have heard and interpreted his words in a way that suited herself. Just as quick, he continued with, “I have a conference call within the hour.”

Without waiting for the baron’s response, Luke got to his feet and clinked his glass with a silver utensil. The high-pitched sound gathered the curious attentions of the attendees. “We – myself and Rhiane – thank you for extending your hospitality. Unfortunately, we need to leave to attend to other matters. But the food is nice, the wine is abundant, and the night is young. Please enjoy the night. You have our utmost gratitude for welcoming us into your home.”

Hands clapped together after the crown prince finished his short speech of appreciation. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, encouraging her to get up on her feet. When she did, though he still did not ask how she was feeling, Luke snaked an arm around her waist as a silent gesture of support.




The itinerary presented to them stated that they should fly out of the mountains that night, but Luke had made other arrangements. The direction was given to Nolan and Luce Viscomi was also notified. Not too far by land was a spa with a natural pool of warm water exposed to the cool autumn night with its multitude of stars. Nolan drove them to the spa, while Luce made necessary adjustments to the schedule.

The spa was frequented by nobility spending a few days on a vacation in the mountains. However at that time, the whole place was shut down in anticipation for the arrival of the VIPs. It was only Tobias, Nolan, Luke, Rhiane, the caretaker, the cook, and two other members of the royal guard in the property. Luke was not lying when he said that he had to attend a conference call, though it was not within the hour. He occupied one of the rooms, set it up as a temporary office, while he left Rhiane in the bedroom that they were supposed to share. She was free to roam the property, sleep, or indulge in the soothing warm water of the natural outdoor pool. Whatever she felt was right, and whatever would help her recover a little of the strength she poured out to her people.
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At first Rhiane was confused by Luke's slip and insistence they leave. Though she had done nothing wrong, and every metric she had at her disposal indicated she was exceedingly successful in fostering a positive image, she was apprehensive he had become irate over a transgression and reached the end of his patience. Once he made his more formal announcement to the crowd that they were departing there was little to do but follow. With slight hesitation she rose from her seat as he touched her shoulder. Inwardly she was bracing herself for an emotional blow that did not come. Rather than clasp her hand, or walk ahead, he put an arm around her waist in what could be construed as a considerate gesture. Some of her paranoia began to wane and she suspected he had taken notice her her struggles. She had admittedly being taxed beyond limits she should have imposed on herself. Their argument had made her determined to prove herself, if not to earn his praise then at least so that he might not hate her tactics, and thus she had pushed herself to be so attentive and engaged it had drained her completely.

They looked more intimate walking out of the hall and to their vehicle than they had when they arrived earlier that afternoon. The princess elect openly leaned into her betrothed as she matched his pace. Her stride was sightly slower than his on account of his height and natural pace but she could quicken her steps for the short distance. To the onlookers, even the critical baron and shrewd baroness, they were a couple with a comfortable familiarity. Expertly applied cosmetics and a persistent smile concealed any indications the former farmer was using her fiance's support for any reason than clingy affection. The truth, which the heir to the throne could feel, was that she was finding the simple task of strolling to their SUV a challenge. Muscles that had been tensed throughout their meal were quivering as the stress was released with their exit.

No sooner than she had been helped into the car, the door was closed, and she let out a sigh of relief, than she was fast asleep. Tobias was forced to double back and discreetly help buckle her in since she had failed to do so. She was impossible to rouse- not that anyone tried out of respect. Her head dipped towards the window before, after taking a curve, it fell towards Luke's shoulder. He could maneuver her with no risk of being discovered; she was in such a deep slumber that the bumps of the road did not elicit any response whatsoever. The cousin to the crown glanced frequently into his rear view mirror to make certain nothing was amiss. Truthfully he did not know if he was pleased that the woman had found some opportunity to rest or if he was frustrated that she was resigned to falling unconscious on a backseat that was not conducive to sleep in the least and was occupied by his unofficial rival.

When they arrived Tobias parked and got out of the car with the expectation he would need to carry Rhiane inside. Luke did not seem willing, nor was he able, to bear the weight of the princess elect given his healing rib fracture. As the bodyguard unbuckled her and started to slide an arm under her legs she woke with a start. For that brief moment in time she was trapped in the wreckage of the sabotaged vehicle she had been driving. She jerked away as the nightmare seized hold, obscuring her senses with relived trauma, before she recognized where they were- or rather where they weren't. Her racing heart struggled to return to a more reasonable pace as she flashed Tobias an apologetic smile.

"I can walk," she reassured though her security detail was almost certainly as skeptical as the crown prince. "Where is the plane?" she asked as she gathered her strength. Rhiane grabbed the car's frame for support as she somewhat shakily moved out of her seat and stood. Because she had missed the discussion about their change in plans she was perplexed by the sight of the building before her. As far as she was aware their itinerary had them flying out immediately after the obligation with the farmers had been fulfilled. "Did something go wrong? Did Ms. Viscomi add another event in our schedule?" she asked with a palpable worry that she had failed with the tour of the fields in some capacity. She had willingly shouldered all the responsibility for their encounter the peasants, therefore she felt strongly any punishment ought to be visited upon her alone.

"Prince Luke requested a chance be made to the arrangements," Tobias replied stoically. "You will be spending the night at this resort, Miss Black."

"He did?" Rhiane asked as she was escorted- without contact as she stubbornly refused any physical assistance- to the entrance. She was perplexed by this revelation. Luke had teased her with a visit to a hot spring if she kissed him in the cockpit of their jet. Flustered by the offer she had rejected it outright, and though they had consummated their unusual relationship, they had fought not once but twice thereafter. It felt like a reward yet she couldn't imagine why he would be feeling a gracious. Perhaps he simply wanted to indulge in the warm waters himself after a particularly aggravating day.

"The bed has already been prepared if you are ready to retire," Tobias stated, refusing to acknowledge the implied kindness of Luke. Rhiane might hypothesize that his cousin had done this to pamper himself, but he was quite certain this splurge was for her benefit. He didn't want her to be so grateful she was ensnared farther in this doomed romance.

"Don't be silly," Rhiane laughed lightly, "I ought to soak while I have the chance!"
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A little over twenty-four hours after he attended to a global matter together with leaders of different nations, Luke was sitting behind the lens of the conference call again, cascading the agreements and promises of proposals to be reviewed to the heads of ministries and/or their representatives. His uncle, the appointed head of the Ministry of Defense, was in attendance, and as usual critical with how his nephew managed the situation. The next steps had to be examined thoroughly as it posed a threat of diplomatic measures. Whether he liked it or not, the final decision rested on his shoulders as external relations had been under his jurisdiction. And because of the urgency of the matter, Luke had been on the phone with his staff since after the engine of the SUV roared into life. He had almost forgotten about the woman sitting beside him, or the argument they had, if not for the sudden weight of her head against his shoulder. Luke had cupped her cheek gently, careful not to wake her – not that he thought he could – encouraging her to use him as her makeshift pillow.

Afterwards, after the vehicle was safely parked inside the hot spring resort, he had to leave the sleeping princess elect in order to face the responsibilities which he would not turn his back on. It did not matter then that his cousin and Rhiane’s bodyguard, Tobias Lavanchy, was left to look after her. Did Tobias carry her sleeping form like a princess in his arms? If she woke up surrounded by the royal guard, would she like enjoy his warmth more than Luke’s? Finally, would she finally realize how Tobias deserved her more than the fiance she was forced to endure for as long as she lived?

“Your highness?” asked a gentleman with round, gold-rimmed glasses. He looked about in his early forties, but Luke knew better than judge his people’s age based on their appearance. The lord leaned closer to the camera, making his image on the virtual meeting room appear to be at an odd angle. “The line might not be --”

“No, I heard you.” Luke cleared his throat. Mentally, he berated himself for drifting off and dwelling on thoughts and memories which were not supposed to be present. “I expect the analysis on the budget first thing tomorrow morning. You have the format, yes? Send a copy to the Minister of Finance as well. We will make a decision before the week ends.”

Tendrils of steam reaching up to the dark sky speckled with blinking stars waited for him outside the conference call. But he did not arrange the short detour for himself. Half of his mind listened to his constituents, while the other half wondered if Rhiane woke up enough to realize that she should be taking advantage of the limited time they had at a resort. If not for the commitments he made, Luke wouldn’t be caught inside the room. After everything that they had been through the last few days, a few hours away from the cameras’ judgmental lenses, a few hours to relax and enjoy the mountains, was not too much to ask. Such were the thoughts floating in his head when suddenly an idea occurred. Tobias.

A lord cleared his throat, a thick elegant brow arched in question as he cut himself in mid-sentence. “You were about to say something, your highness?”

Luke was aware of the virtual sets of eyes focused on him, waiting for anything, something. The most expectant of which was his uncle’s meaningful stare. Without Luke consciously knowing, he had opened his mouth as if to say something, his posture a little stiffer and his eyes widened in what appeared to be a sudden realization. Of course, it had nothing to do with the present topic, but everybody knew of the heir’s quick mind and temper therefore pausing mid-sentence to give way to what it seemed was either an objection or concession from the next king. “Carry on,” was all he said. No explanations, none was expected.

As soon as he did, a message box popped up on the screen. “What are you doing?” Luke barely glanced at it and the name of his uncle perfectly spelled out in solid blue letters. The lord was one of his greatest critics. One of the piranhas who circled around Luke, waiting for him to slip and make a fool of himself. The lord was too close to the succession for Luke’s comfort, but there was little he could do to change the law his ancestors penned. As long as Luke was holding the position, Callista was safe from the machinations of the power struggle within the House.

The message was ignored. The prince struggled to mentally stay into the meeting, but his mind rebelled here and there. His thoughts drifted to Rhiane, to the afternoon’s engagement. He was a silent observer, more than just a little annoyed at her pig-headedness but at the same time grateful that she did all the work. And now that he was tied to his commitments to the nation, while she was alone with his cousin, Tobias. She could be enjoying a dip in the hot springs and he could be… Luke asked – ordered – Tobias to keep his eyes on the farmer at all times.

He was on his feet as soon as the meeting was concluded. Under normal circumstances, he would wait for the minutes and comment on anything that was missed or wrongly covered, but that night he had a shorter than usual patience. With Nolan on his heels, he left the room and asked to be led to the outdoor pool. There was one for men and another for women. He changed into a robe and ordered for a change in clothes be sent to the women’s waiting room. Ignoring the attendant’s comment that he was going the wrong way, the prince continued to the entrance.

Octavia and Lia were alert at the double doors. If any of the two was surprised to find their crown prince, it did not show on their faces. Gossip was also missing that night. They greeted Luke in unison, but said nothing about the pool being for women only.
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Although Rhiane could not be certain whether the trip to the hot spring was an unspoken award for her performance, a treat for the prince himself after a long day, or simply a whim that seized hold, she was determined to take full advantage of the luxurious accommodations. Her economic situation prevented her from being able to vacation, much less somewhere quite so fantastic, or in such a remote location. She could not help but be constantly amazed at the difference between the lifestyle she was born into and that of the nobility. This had been too lofty a dream for the former farmer to even imagine. Now that she was before the grandiose building that housed such an tantalizing experience, she felt quite invigorated.

When it came to the issue of maintaining security while she was soaking there was a slight disagreement. Rhiane, showing her typical disregard for her own safety, insisted that she needed no accompaniment whatsoever. Tobias refused to allow her to bathe without some form of protective protocol. They debated all the way until they reached they were before the doors of the women's waiting room. It was as close as the pair came to an actual argument. The bodyguard was too stoic and respectful to exhibit anger during most discussions and Rhiane recognized that her sole friend in the palace had good intentions. Lia and Octavia wisely stayed out of the spirited conversation and waited for the result. A compromise was reached that the princess elect would use a device that would keep her in visual contact with the prince's cousin, but the broadcasted image would be from the shoulders up so as to maintain some semblance of appropriate modesty, and they would only intervene if absolutely necessary.

She disrobed as she entered the steaming pool of water. While she would have liked to enjoy the sensation of slowly sinking into the liquid, letting its soothing heat massage away the tension in her body, she knew that tarrying too long would be invitation for an interruption from her detail. Rhiane moved to the far side of the pool and propped up the device given to her by Tobias on the edge of the smooth carved surface. The angle would reveal her head only as it the apparatus was several inches above the edge of the water. Her long hair and been twisted and wound into a haphazard bun at the back of her head to keep it from becoming tangled during her indulgent dip.

"You were right, I'm quite tired," the princess elect admitted as she rested her neck against the smooth stone behind her and gazed upward. The velvety black sky was dotted with starts that shone like brilliant diamonds. She had a pang of regret for not studying the constellations more in school. There was little to be gained from the knowledge of what myth was tied to what arrangement, and she never ventured anywhere where she might need their guidance, she felt that she was missing some enigmatic portion of their beauty in her ignorance. Briefly her attention flickered to her fiance as she idly wondered if he would know the stories behind each sparkling pinpoint of wonder.

"I will have Lia and Octavia...," Tobias began solemnly with this expectation this was her concession that she ought not to have gone into the hot springs at all. He had warned her repeatedly of the inherent danger of overheating when one was too exhausted to know when they might drift off in the warm embrace of the pool. There was even an ornate carved warning on the walls surrounding the women's section to remind them of the risks.

"No," she laughed lightly, turning her head towards the screen, "talk to me to help keep me awake. I told you I'd regret it if I didn't partake. Since you have to keep and eye on me anyway we can talk to make sure I do not fall asleep," she suggested glibly.

"I'm not good at..." he started again.

"I think I'm already started to feel more drowsy," Rhiane teased with an over-exaggerated yawn to help emphasize how adamant she was that he accept her proposal. It wasn't entirely fake. The nap in the SUV had helped restore her, but not sufficiently to chase away the temptation of the bed. Had she not been terrified of haunting nightmares she might have opted to retire early and visit the pools in the early morning before their planned departure.

They talked for quite some time about trivial matters, with the princess elect doing most of the talking, as she understood that her companion was sincerely of a more taciturn nature. Their topics meandered from childhood memories of Gerald and Edwin's pranks on one another, to anecdotes of the people in her village with their various problems, to what she might do if she had a farm and all the wealth in the world to spend on only its expenses. She revealed how fond she was of fruit-bearing trees because groves were easier to tend to than crops that had to be planted yearly, but how she would always plant extra carrots for herself due to their sweet taste, and all the equipment she had always wished to be able to afford. Ultimately the subject drifted to Rhiane's feelings on the afternoon's tour and her peers.

"Do you still believe that Prince Luke could end the rebellion in the same manner you spoke of earlier?" Tobias inquired. On the surface the event had been a success. He knew, however, that there had been a chasm that grew between the couple. He hoped to foster doubt in Rhiane's mind so that she would more easily forego her bizarre faith in the heir to the throne and join the revolution. His intentions were hidden beneath an impenetrable countenance and a vague question.

"I'm not ready to give up on him yet," she sighed as she momentarily closed her eyes. "But it's not my place to discuss strategy. No one has asked my opinion on anything except you. We're on an engagement tour and no one's asked me my preferences for a ring," she murmured. "If no one's given a second thought about what rock I want to wear on my finger, or what attire I'd want, they'll never care about something so monumental as what I want for changes in social and economic policy. All I can do is try to trust someone finds the answer." Rhiane shrugged as if it did not matter to her. The more than she and Tobias spoke the more it became apparent to them both that she was not quite so oblivious to the larger political machinations as she feigned. Her passions were nuanced, suppressed, and obscured by a pretense of disinterest, but became exposed with precise examination.

"Your ring?" Tobias asked puzzled.

"Just promise me that when you propose it will be fantastically romantic so that I can experience it second hand through your retelling," she requested without realizing that the only person in her bodyguard's heart was herself.
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If the presence of the female guards was not enough clue to guess that the princess elect might have let go of several hours of sleep in favor of the warm pools, the voices drifting from the natural spring convinced Luke that he was in the right place no matter how bad the timing. The light, melodious sound of her laughter fluttered in the air as if carried by the streams of smoke casually escaping the surface of the water. It made Luke pause with one hand against the smoked glass of the sliding door. Either the farmer had finally snapped or she was sharing the night with someone else. No, she was enjoying the night with someone other than him. It was treason.

It could have been treason, except that living their own separate lives was his idea. He had drawn the line the first night that they met when he told her to stay out of his business and she agreed provided that he would do the same for her. Who she wished to spend the time he stole from their tight schedule with was up to her, as much as it was up to him if he wanted to warm his bed with pretty noblemen’s daughters. Or perhaps a warm shower and a fine bottle of wine would help take the edges off before he returned to his temporary office to dive back into the intricacies of politics and economics.

The prince sealed the crack between the sliding doors, determined to tend to the kingdom’s demands, when an insistent beeping resounded from one of the benches. His shirt and pants lay discarded on the bench, burying the communication device which was curled on itself. The outline pulsed a soft golden light. Luke picked it up, flattened the display, then picked up the call from his younger sister.

“Hello, Luke,” greeted a very cheery Callista. “Hey! Turn the camera back on. You look exceptionally handsome under the dim yellowish lighting. And besides, I miss my big brother.” She was whining and pouting the way she had always done since she was a kid. Despite the image of a polished lady that the media projected her to be, there was a certain childlikeness that the public was not allowed to see.

“No. I’m about to take my robe off.”

The princess made a sound between disgust and dismay, but she did let go of the topic. Luke sat on the bench, watching his sister from the softly glowing screen. “I need to talk to Rhiane. She got me this.” The camera’s vision was filled with the basket and the multitude of products that Rhiane must have bought form the locals that morning after their argument. The princess happily showed the items one after the other, telling his brother how thoughtful her soon to be sister-in-law was and how lucky he was to have been engaged to Rhiane. If only she knew the kind of torture of having Rhiane in his life.

He wished he could tell his sister about it – about how his mind was in conflict with itself, how his nature was rebelling against his logic, and how much he would give to be the one she would choose to laugh with under the stars even when her stubbornness frustrates the hell out of him. But he just snorted, as if none of what she said was true. “Bribery is a crime, Callie. Do not trade your soul for a bag of goodies.”

The princess rolled her eyes dramatically. “Please let me just talk to her.”

Luke’s initial thought was to say no, then reason that he was busy with the paper that Callie had asked him to look at, if only to guilt her into taking back her request. But there was something to gain in indulging the princess. “A minute,” he said with a dramatic sigh.
Long strides brought him quickly back to the sliding doors. He pressed a panel-like switch that automatically slid the door open. The cold autumn breeze from the mountain caressed his cheek and the exposed skin of his hands and feet. Just by the dramatic drop in temperature between the waiting room and the outdoor, he wanted to run and take refuge in the hot water of the spring. Yet, poise held him in place and prevented him from acting like a panicked little boy. One foot ahead of the other, he crossed the short threshold as his bare feet were greeted by the smooth pebbles surrounding the pool. His robe was tossed carelessly to the side before he allowed himself to dip into the warm water, allowed his tensed muscles to relax.

She was talking about a ring, but what surprised him more was that she was alone. Well, technically. He recognized the device sitting not far from Rhiane as a surveillance camera. Tobias asked something about Rhiane’s ring, and the latter asked to be promised about a proposal.

“Rhiane,” her name rang in the night sky before Tobias could respond. It was half an accusation and half a plea. He waded through the water and the steam to her corner of the pool and then handed over the comms device. His back was purposefully placed between her and the camera’s lens. “Callie wants to talk to you.”

“I just want to thank her,” Callie’s voice excitedly spilled out of the receiver even though it was not on speaker mode. She raved about how she was touched by the gesture even though they had not yet spent time together as sisters, that Luke was always around her so they could not talk girl-to-girl. Because she grew up with three brothers and a mother who barely had time for her children, a sister was what she had always wished to have. Now that Rhiane was almost part of their family, the princess was more than thrilled.

Luke listened to the conversation with a bored expression. Casually, he leaned against the edge of the pool, arms crossed about his chest, enough so that the device was smothered with the image of his glorious back.
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It was equal parts amusing and infuriating to Tobias how his royal cousin was so possessive of the fiancee that he had previously declared he did not want. Had he been confident that this was a manifestation of sincere emotion, rather than Luke simply coveting his own "property," he might have considered forfeiting his affections for the woman in question. As it was, he suspected that the heir to the throne only cared for Rhiane because she was "his," and was thus not seriously invested. Since they were children the crown prince was reluctant to share any of his toys. The former farmer was not a playtime bauble, but in the eyes of the queen she was also not a person, and the heir to the throne shared some of those same prejudices.

Rhiane's eyes were glued to her betrothed as he entered the bath and descended into the pool. Despite all their bickering, and their most recent heated argument, it was undeniable that she remained attracted to him. She had doubted whether or not any semblance of feeling would continue after they consummated their relationship. He was a playboy and she was a woman who spurned romantic attachments. It was more normal for the odd couple to lose interest in a partner once they had the "victory" or experience of physical intimacy; that was had happened historically. The morning foray had only drawn the princess elect deeper into her infatuation. Now that she knew the warmth of his embrace, the earnestness his passion could have once he shed his title temporarily, and how well they matched were when they did not fight, she could not dismiss him as easily as before.

She had ripped away her gaze, her face slightly flushed, and Tobias had glared from where he was connected via the device. Moments before he had been able to coax Rhiane into a conversation that played into his favor. Luke's parade into close proximity made it impossible to ignore the quiet yearning of the sultry brunette's features. Intercourse was not encouraged before marriage but it was also not forbidden in official arrangements. Tobias could not voice a single warning or objection because he was the interloper and it was well within Luke's right, if not expected of him, to take some advantage of shared accommodations and privacy. This knowledge was why he strove to keep them from being alone when the opportunity arose.

When the princess elect realized who was on the phone she immediately brightened. She inched away from Luke, so that the inherent temptation of him was not distracting, and became absorbed in laughing and chatting with her future sister-in-law. They filled a void for one another. Just like Callista did not have a sister and had a mother who was often too busy for her, Rhiane also had only brothers and a deceased mother that was absent in her life. Any hope she had for another woman in the family had been dashed some time ago. Gerard was gay and devoted to Sebastian, whom she adored but was not female, and her father refused to consider the possibility of remarrying. Hubert Black had only enough room in his heart for his late wife Violet.

Perhaps more surprising than their fast friendship was how genuine and forthright Rhiane was with the princess. Luke had witnessed her interact with a wide variety of people during the beginning leg of their tour. She was almost always warm, gregarious, charming, and sociable, most of which were traits she shared with the only daughter of the queen, but it was difficult to discern where the act ended and the real Rhiane began. She was so adept at interweaving her charisma with a fictional idealized version of herself that even the courts could not perceive the veil that existed. With Callista she was different. She was kind, thoughtful, and patient, but she also spoke with a tender care that proved her honesty. There were parts of herself she shielded the innocent royal from, such as her injury, trauma, or morbid sense of humor, but she was more free with her than anyone save Luke himself.

"Ms. Black was having difficulty staying awake of her own accord," Tobias intoned loudly enough that he would be heard by the backside looming in his range of vision, but not so loud he would interrupt the spirited discussion taking place a couple feet away. He trusted his audience knew why this was important without needing to explain. An exhausted visitor to the hot springs could overheat and/or drown if they fell into a deep enough sleep. "I will need to be reconnected when you leave to keep an eye on her status," he added with certainty in his voice. He did not believe that Luke would want to stay longer than necessary, much less coddle the fiancee he had ignored during dinner. The bodyguard also hoped his words might encourage his rival to depart if he did not have the implied responsibility of watching over Rhiane.

Just as Tobias was about to sever his surveillance camera he heard the topic of the ring resurface. "Oh, it's not that important," Rhiane was saying hastily. "It's nothing to worry about," she reassured, "just something that popped into my mind when I was getting undressed."

Typically the engagement ring was chosen before the bride or groom was selected. There were several reasons for this: the image of a happy union had to be cultivated from its inception, the candidates could not afford their own jewelry, and the crown had expensive tastes. Heirloom rings were informally forbidden. Approximately half of the queens of New Rome met with tragic ends that made some of their possessions difficult to salvage. Even if they were reclaimed there was the issue that a pure-blood did not want to share what a peasant-born queen had once worn. Sometimes the original ring from the induction ceremony was kept. Other times the kin of the sovereign would replace the engagement ring during the duration of the engagement as a sign of love, because their taste changed, or the design did not suit the person. Infamously one particularly petite previous princess elect had such a large band and stone that it was viciously mocked until it was exchanged for a more delicate setting.
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“It was a long and tiring day,” Luke admitted stifling a yawn. He turned his body at an angle enough to touch the device and make it lie on its smooth glass backside. If Tobias was still watching, he would have a very beautiful view of the v-shaped constellation of Andromeda. The royal guard may not be physically present, but it still irritated Luke that his cousin found a way to preserve modesty while still spending time with Rhiane in the spa. “Thank you for your loyalty and dedication, Tobias. Lia and Octavia are stationed nearby should anything happen while Rhiane and me are here. You may take the night off. Nolan already did.”

If it had been another royal guard, it would have been easy to rotate assignments and replace him. Tobias was selected for his affiliation with the crown and its crown prince. The two boys were near inseparable when they were kids that the queen had hoped Tobias had cultivated loyalty to her son. And if Tobias was loyal to Luke, then the royal guard was bound to be loyal to Luke’s future queen. In the world of prestigious titles and power, loyalty was everything. Good for Tobias, because there was no question about his loyalty, it was his intentions that Luke was not happy with. Rhiane would be his queen. She was his fiancee, and one day she would be the mother of his children. He might have told her that he wanted to live separate lives, but honestly the prince did not want anybody remotely touching what was his.

Then, he caught wind of the conversation between the ladies. The word “ring” slipped from his finacee’s lips and suddenly he knew what they were talking about, what Rhiane and Tobias were talking about. Carefully, his eyes left the night sky and slowly descended into the moonlight reflecting on the smooth skin of her shoulder and back. It glistened with the droplets clinging to her skin. He remembered holding her in his arms while she fought against the nightmares that visited her at night, thought about the look on her face that morning when he kissed her. If she was not a farmer and he was not a prince, would he kiss her again? He looked away as Callie’s high-pitched question betrayed the supposedly confidentiality of the conversation.

“Your engagement ring?” There was an engagement ring. Callista remembered touching it, fitting it on her finger, imagining that magical moment when her prince would kneel on one knee and with hopeful eyes finally ask the question that ladies long to hear. There was an engagement ring designed for whoever was selected to be the crown prince’s bride. “What are you talking about? It is important, so very important that without it, the engagement doesn’t feel real. I will not say yes to a proposal without a ring.” She raised her slender hand in front of her face.

If the royal tradition would be followed, the ring should have been fitted on the princess elect’s finger during the night of the engagement ball. Yet the whole kingdom was aware that the ball was cut short after the unfortunate accident of the future bride and the urgent departure of her future groom.

Frowning at her own ringless fingers, the princess kept her lips pursed. If she hadn’t known any better, she could have told Rhiane that her ring was with Luke, but even she was unsure that her brother would hold on to something that symbolizes everything stood against. The most plausible answer was that the crown prince intentionally lost the piece of jewelry as his final and most resounding statement against the breeding ritual. Callie dropped the subject after that, redirecting the conversation to the retelling of the experiences that Rhiane collected during the time away from the capital. Same as her older brother, the princess lacked the freedom to roam the kingdom freely. She was curious about what she would find. Luke too. But the princess thought her brother had more pride than what was healthy therefore his enthusiasm would not show.

The same enthusiasm was held back, tightly leashed, and sealed away at the farthest recess of his brain. After the threat named Tobias Lavanchy was neutralized, he found a man-made stone bench where the water reached up to his chest when he sat. His broken ribs were healing well that he had foregone wearing the silicone brace. Again, he stole a glance at Rhiane, wondering if her injury had been kind to her as well.

After a few more minutes of being alone in his thoughts, he heard the women say their goodbyes and promises to talk to each other again. Luke lifted his head from the smooth rock that cradled it to raise a brow at his fiancee across the pool. Awkward silence blanketed the area. Now that there was only the two of them, what do they do?

“I lost the ring,” he finally admitted in a matter-of-fact way. Silence was worse than their squabbles. Besides, they were already mad at each other, what else could he loose after he admitted that he lost the engagement ring. “If you want one, show Luce a photo of the ring and she will buy it for you. I already asked Tobias to rest for tonight. He’s been working really hard lately.” So, it was just him and her, was what he wanted to say. He would stay with her and keep her awake, so she doesn’t hurt herself, were the words forming at the tip of his tongue, yet he did not have the courage to say. Luke shrugged. “Men are not that thoughtful,” he added, more to himself than to her.
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Rhiane had resigned herself to sit in silence, staring away from Luke so that his presence would not create more trouble for her than it already had, but he obviously had different thoughts. She did not quite know how she would start a conversation with her betrothed. He had objected to her decision to change into commoner clothes, perhaps because he strongly disapproved of the lower class itself, and had refused to speak with her at all during their tour. Despite giving every indication he wished to have nothing to do with her, he had then entered the women's bath and handed her a phone call from her future sister-in-law. The former farmer was not daft. She knew he could have delayed Callista's request to a later time had he had the inclination. That he elected to wander into the pool with her and stay once the call concluded suggested he had at least temporarily set aside his grudge.

Neither of them wanted to apologize for their behavior. Luke was a man of righteous pride in his decisions. Rhiane did not expect him to regret taking the stance she ought to remain in the dress given to her by Luce if for no other reason than to distinguish herself from her former peers. The queen's influence over his ideological beliefs would not so quickly be mitigated. Similarly she did not regret taking the stance it was important to comfortably attire herself in plain work clothes while she walked with the people. Save for their tense ignoring of one another during dinner, her plot had been a resounding success, and proof that she did not need to take notes from the throne when it came to public appearances. That they even needed her to boost their image ought to have hinted to the crown their approach had flaws.

That he spoke first, and candidly about the ring, surprised her. "That's not true," she managed after hearing his admission that the engagement ring had been 'lost.' His remark about showing Luce a replacement she would like purchased assured her he did not understand why it had been a subject of discussion between her and Tobias. It was not the jewelry she wanted but the thought and consideration that went into its acquisition. "Men can be thoughtful. You can be thoughtful. It's a small thing and easy to lose," she added without any judgment in her tone.

"I'm sure at some point Luce will notice its absence and order me something. It doesn't really matter, though, does it?" Rhiane ventured with a touch of melancholy in her voice rather than derision. She wanted to point out that if she was picking it out, or a servant, or even a consultant, that it had lost the meaning. What made an engagement ring special was not the diamond but how a man might peruse countless options before finding one that he thought was as special as his future bride. Without that devotion and careful deliberation on how it might suite the taste of his lover, it was just a fancy rock and metal loop. "We're engaged with or without it," she continued, "and it doesn't symbolize any promise of affection, does it?"

Shaking her head she turned around and looked for where she had discarded her robe. It took her a few seconds to locate the garment at the opposite end of the bath. Crouching down to remain submerged to her shoulders she made her way over to the corner slowly, increasingly reluctant to leave the relaxing heated water, as she knew the most plush of towels could not compare. "I don't have the energy to argue with you more today, Luke," she sighed. Her make-up had been washed off before she took her dip. Dark shadows were cast under her eyes and the sag of her shoulders belied an encroaching exhaustion. "You can tell me how I've disappointed you tomorrow after I've had some rest," she promised with her back still to him to give her the emotional fortitude she needed to speak.

"We're the only ones here so I'll go to the men's bath so you can have some privacy," she said, unaware that Tobias had warned Luke how she underestimated her fatigue and the danger it posed to her. The cousins agreed on little, but what they did agree on was that Rhiane consistently dismissed her health, and was recklessly eager to disregard her condition for any incentive. In this case she did not want to concede anything could or would keep her from spending every moment possible in this rejuvenating utopia.

Because Luke had yet to admit he harbored feelings for her, she continued to take for granted he did not, and conducted herself accordingly. She was suspicious of him when he sent mixed messages pushing her away and pulling her towards him in equal measure. This confusion about what he wanted gave her an excuse to increase their distance. If she was going to have a one-sided infatuation she wanted to have it as safely as possible, in a way she could not get more hurt than she already was, and not risk him repeating his previous rejections. They had slept together but then he had insulted her fellow peasants and avoided her later in the day. It was too perplexing to anticipate what would happen next; retreat was all she could think to do with his indecisiveness.
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Luke leaned his head back against the smooth rock. A gentle breeze glided close to the surface, caressing the fine angles of his face and lightly ruffling his already tousled dirty blonde hair. A soft sigh escaped his slightly parted lips. He could enumerate proof that Tobias was more than just doing his job, more than just being a friend to Rhiane, or he could enumerate the differences in the royal guard’s behavior that Lia and Octavia observed, but the princess elect would not be as close to seeing the truth than she was an hour ago. Nothing Luke said seemed believable or credible enough for Rhiane and her prejudices.

“Not without ulterior motive.” He should know, because it was how his brain was wired. Besides, he could feel it in his bones, how those dark gray eyes stared at his fiancee with longing masked as professional alertness. His possession was being threatened. Just like he did his best to protect her from the Resistance, he stubbornly refused to give her up and let Tobias win.

But she continued in an almost flat tone how a certain diamond ring didn’t matter to their engagement. Luke nodded. His eyes were fixed on the army of stars blinking down at them. It was impossible to see such a sight in the capital where the lights always shone bright and the mysterious great beyond was not a thing that mattered in their lives. He listened to her voice like a faraway whisper. What would she do if she found out that he personally bought Sophia a ring the same day he ‘lost’ the princess elect’s engagement ring? Because Rhiane was correct when she said that Luke could be thoughtful. An asshole too.

The sound of soft splashes of water and her declaration of her intention to leave alerted the crown prince. He was torn between feeling insulted and annoyed at her for being so dense. The weeks that they had known each other should have taught her that the arrogant prince would not lift a finger to do anybody any favor if it was not important to him. He was raised to be an ambitious ruler and a shrewd businessman, and to believe that his time was more precious than her and her family’s lives put together. That he chose to use his time to seek her out on a night when he should be making decisions for the future of New Rome was testimony of…

Of what?

His eyes were almost black as he stared at her while she reached for the discarded robe. “Nolan is in there,” Luke blurted out before he could think it through. ‘Nolan might be in there,’ was the more appropriate statement. Thank the shadows falling on his features, it hid a slight blush that colored his cheeks because of the lie and the unwarranted urgency at which he spat the words out. “I did not come here to argue as well. I was just --” He was just stating facts, was what he wanted to say. If he did, he would only sound as if he was baiting her into another argument with him. The words were swallowed bitterly. “Can we not be Luke and Rhiane – the prince and the farmer – tonight?”

He was tired, she was tired. Being each other’s enemy was as tiring as being at odds with the generally accepted logic that the two of them were not meant to feel for each other. He had Sophia Keller as much as he had a reputation to uphold. She, even in designer clothes and her beautiful face, did not fit into the world he was born in. The engagement was nothing but a temporary political arrangement. Soon, it would expire. One way or the other, his family and his family’s allies would see to it that the queen ruling beside Luke was one of their own – not a commoner and definitely not a nameless farmer.
That night, though, they were alone inside a space where neither the dynasty nor the rebellion existed. Luke stared at the woman who, without warning, crept into his fickle heart to claim a part of it. It may be just a fleeting infatuation or admiration of her feminine charms, but one thing was sure – that after a glimpse of the woman hiding behind the insignificance of her name, he wanted more.

“Such a lovely evening.” Luke pushed himself from his perch, then stepped deeper into the pool until the water was up to his chest. He crossed the distance to where crouched as she reached for the robe until he too was crouching behind her, not really touching except for his hand that reached for her arm. He shared his warmth to help fight against the cold autumn night. Gently, he urged her cool skin back into the enveloping warmth of the pool. “If I were Kronos, I would stop time and stay right here as long as we can. Don’t go.” His voice was low, as if afraid somebody would hear. “My name is Alex.” A slow smile stretched his lips as he turned her around and led her deeper into the pool. “I don’t know your name, but I bet my mother’s crown that it’s as beautiful as you are.” A short pause, then he chuckled lightly realizing his mistake. “Sorry, sorry.” He lifted his hands up in mock surrender, then added, “I’m not supposed to have a mother who wears a crown. Let’s do it again.” And he repeated the pick-up line except for the part about his mother, hoping against all hopes that it would lighten the mood.

Neither apologized to the other, and it was not likely that anybody would yield anytime soon. But he wanted to spend time with her and make her laugh the way Tobias did, make her forget about the fatigue weighing down her shoulders. He did not plan on allowing her to stay too long submerged in warm water, but a few more minutes shouldn’t hurt… Right?
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She froze as the crown prince alleged that his personal bodyguard, a man whom she suspected held very little fondness for her, was occupying the men's bath. Just as quickly as her escape route had appeared it now vanished. The brunette was struck with the dilemma of whether to linger a while longer and enjoy the spring or to save herself from the enigmatic man that was to one day be her husband. Rhiane did not fear Luke so much as she worried about what his intentions were. At times he was more ruthlessly critical of her than his mother the queen, and at other times he was genuinely gentle, and today he had already traversed the distance between these extremes more than once. An unoccupied bedroom was increasingly tempting.

His proposal that they abandon their names and stations for a night gave her pause. It was not an apology, but she knew him well enough to recognize that this was his peace offering. She wavered in indecision. Not once had he proven himself capable of setting aside his prejudices for more than a few hours; when he did, he was merely shelving the thoughts, not accepting her identity in small increments. At the end of her marriage she anticipated he could loathe the peasants more through her than respect them. Rhiane was increasingly anxious about the affect she was having on the future of New Rome. Playing these games with the man who would one day lead them could have catastrophic results were she to make too many missteps. Exhaustion whispered in her ear that fleeing the battlefield was the wiser choice.

Just as she had been ready to decline he had drifted to her side of the pool and placed his hand on her arm. Effortlessly he pulled her back into the depths of the water. Trusting him for the moment she watched with apprehension and mounting confusion as he lured her to the center of the bath. The compliment that easily dropped from his lips that dispelled her puzzled expression. Her cheeks flushed a sufficiently bright pink to be visible under the muted glow of starlight. Flattery from Luke was rare and evoked a different reaction than anyone else. He had seen her converse with lords and ladies, esteemed professionals, and poor laborers, but none had made her an ounce flustered when they showered her with adulation for her beauty. Tobias praised her more, and this is why she leaned onto the cousin that was her champion, but only the arrogant heir to the throne could make her breathlessly enamored.

There was a prolonged pause as she listened to the fake name, the pick up line, his light-hearted laugh, and the pick-up line repeated with the correction cited. Just as he was almost certainly losing hope she would play along she let out a small giggle and shook her head slowly in disbelief. "Of all the names you could pick and you stuck with a simple Alex?" she asked with amusement. She couldn't quite say what was so funny about his selection. In fantastical stories of whirlwind romances or epic heroes whose legacies lived on for millennia they had unique names to suit. What was even more absurd was that he had such disdain for commoners and yet chose a name that was just that- common.

"Tell me, Alex, do you regularly go to the women's bath to meet people?" she inquired with a raised brow. "It's a little inappropriate to be stripping down nude and then approaching ladies who are similarly undressed," she added, suddenly more aware that they were not wearing clothing. Rhiane pulled back her good arm and withdrew a few inches. He had not touched her more than was necessary, yet the proximity made it hard not to recall their earlier intimacy, and she felt shamed that he was so composed and casual while she was twittering like a schoolgirl. Luke was staving off her fatigue though not in the way she had imagined. It felt dangerous to linger closer than was required for them to speak. Whether or not he had control was irrelevant; she was compromised enough to act on urges best left unexplored.

"I know you're not a prince," she said with a sudden change of topic, obviously overeager to broach a topic that was safer than thinly veiled flirting, "but if you were... do you think there would actually be a crown? Heavy is the crown is the metaphor, but I'd think if there was an actual physical crown- I've never seen one, mind you- it'd be quite heavy if it's made out of gold and gems. Uncomfortably heavy," the princess elect mused aloud with an almost childlike wonder. When she was distracted by a more innocent subject she was prone to pondering such inane things as she did now. Tobias told her this was what made her so congenial; she was not limited to politics, but had a wide breath of humorous speculations, and anecdotes that were of trivial shared experiences. In another life she would have been an excellent advertising executive, social media coordinator, or talk show host.

"Technically that's not true," she chased after serious contemplation. "I made my brother a crown once, out of paper, but then I ended up trying to tell him what to do anyway. I think I was maybe five years old," the brunette recalled slowly as she tugged free the distant memory. "He barely tolerated wearing the crown to appease me, but he would not tolerate me becoming a dictator after making him the so-called-king, so we ended up getting punished for fighting. I stole back the crown later because I was angry," she confessed mischievously, "and it was quite light when I wore it. Light enough it blew away on the wind within a few minutes of going outside."
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Well, she had a point. A true gentleman would not be caught sneaking in the women’s bath, not if he wished to keep his reputation as much as his freedom. But there he was standing in front of her, staring into the unexpected traces of laughter hiding behind her eyes as she gently told him off. For a few seconds, he thought that she was going to turn around and walk away, call for her guards – Lia and Octavia – to assist her out of the pool.

“You don’t seem to mind that I do. Otherwise, you would be yelling for the guards right now.” He flashed her a confident smile tinged with mischief. If he had thought that his mind was fully in control of the situation even by knowing that neither him nor her would be protected from each other by layers of clothing, he was wrong. An irritated Rhiane and an equally irritated Luke was effective in staving off any tinge of desire that evolution had injected in his male genes, but when she made that sound of amusement and he decided to forego whatever had made him so irked, he had unknowingly brought them in dangerous territory. She took a tentative step back, but it was alright, he let her. It was probably for the best that they held back until they were properly wed and she was ready. “You may not believe me, but I find the women’s bath to be a more favorable venue than a bar in meeting people who I can talk to. Although, I would really love to buy you a drink right now.”

He savored the warmth of the water, feeling it relax the muscles of his body, hoping it did the same for her. “I heard that there is a crown,” Luke frowned, pretending he was unsure as well. There was a crown, he even had one. It was made of gold and gems, but it was not as heavy as it looked. The rulers wore it only on special occasions. When they got married, it would be part of the ceremony. He would be wearing his too, then would be placing her wife’s atop her head as a symbol that she was being accepted into the royal family. It would be nothing as grand as the queen’s but it was a symbol of power in itself.

The anecdote brought a smile to his lips. Rhiane was unlike the women he grew up with, went to work with, or even casually hooked up with. She was raised outside the capital, unrestricted by tradition, and had no expectations to meet other than that of his family’s. “Wow. I thought my sister has a problem.” He snickered, probably remembering one of the many times that the little Callie bullied Luke into doing a favor for her. The twins were younger than her, therefore it was easier to order them around. Even as they grew older, even up to that night, the princess bullied her older brother to review and revise her position paper then called up and demanded him to pass the phone to Rhiane.

The device clamped on his wrist vibrated underwater. As he lifted it to the surface, a faint golden glow became visible from the surface. Luke made a quick gesture to make it stop before even reading the name of the caller. If he started, he would ruin the night by stepping back into the shoes of the crown prince and wearing the proverbial crown. “Just work. It can wait,” he commented casually then let his arm plunge back into the comforting warmth. As comforting the water was, the two of them had their legs working to carry them along plantations and fields the whole day that it deserved rest. He glided back to where he found a stone bench, then motioned with his hand for her to sit beside him.

“My younger sister is as much of a bully as you are in that story. Except that she doesn’t feel the need to give me a crown or bribe of any sorts, she just orders me around. I’m much older than her so I don’t fight with her, but our younger siblings do.” He paused, looking up at the stars. Life was much simpler when they were younger. The smile that brightened up his face slowly faded. “They enjoy hiding in my room, pestering me, and breaking my stuff. Then if I scold one of them, especially the twins, they will cry and run to our mother.” He turned his attention back to her. “So where are you from, Miss Green Eyes? And what brought you to this hot spring alone?”
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Rhiane laughed easily at the commentary about the hot spring being superior to a bar for meeting others- because it was such an absurd assertion- and her face broke into a broad smile when he remarked he would have liked to buy her a drink. Crown prince Luke did not make purchases for her benefit. Once he had waved a card in front of her face flippantly and tried to force her to take it, and asked his sister for a cannoli recommendation, but he was not one for romantic gifts. Were she another woman perhaps he would have bought her trinkets and baubles to demonstrate his affection. There was not just an absence of an engagement ring; there was no thoughtfully selected jewelry, no grand bouquets of flowers, no shoes or dresses in her style simply because he personally wanted to see her wear it, no stuffed animals or other collectibles. The royalty paid for the princess elect in other ways by clothing her, guarding her, and housing her, but no one could deny it lacked real consideration for the person over the concept.

"You're very fortunate that I am at least temporarily forbidden from partaking in alcohol," she mused aloud with a playful smirk upon her features, "or I'd absolutely take advantage of you. Drink you under the table, even," the brunette teased. "You ought not to underestimate a woman's constitution when she's only men for business acquaintances and family," she winked. Were the circumstances different she could have been a formidable opponent during a drinking game. Rhiane was used to trying to match glass for glass and shot for shot with her male counterparts on a regular. In addition to partaking to preserve her pride, in the country the people would brew strong concoctions from their crops, the sort that could topple over a lightweight accustomed to mere wine.

What smile had grown when he compared her to his sister faltered with the glow of yellow beneath the water. Her eyes flickered down and she very nearly thought to retreat. The princess elect had momentarily been pulled out the fantasy where they were not themselves and shameless talking, flirting, conversing with humor and not a trace of argument. She remembered how she was just an accessory to the future ruler of the nation. Though he reassured her that it was just work there was a doubt that crept into her eyes. Callous as it might be to think, she was not the most important thing in his life, nor was she likely the second, as there were officials clamoring for his attention that played a much larger role in the governance of the nation.

It wasn't until he moved over to seat and then continued the discussion about her being a supposed bully that she let go of her hesitation and drifted through the warm liquid towards him. There was little that could draw her back out of her exhaustion, her frustration, and her insecurities, but his banter about his siblings successfully coaxed her back into a more sharing mood. This was almost certainly the best they had ever gotten along. Both spoke freely, casually, without reservation or care about their engagement, and were only a man and woman trading stories about their lives as strangers might do upon meeting.

"I was not a bully," she protested in feigned indignation as she moved to sit beside him. "It is quite difficult to have brothers," she pointed out in defense of herself and what would become her sister-in-law. "You can't blame a girl for ordering someone around if they oblige her, can you? If it was really such a problem then the other party wouldn't listen," she pointed out. "It sounds like you could use some help with your brothers. You happen to be in the presence of an expert counter-terrorist in that regard because I can assure you my elder brothers might have coddled me, but they also liked to bother me as well. Maybe you should plant a few traps," Rhiane said, brightening at the prospect of mischief. Two young princes might be reluctant to cry to their mother if they thought the commoner interloper had gotten the best of them. She thought it entirely plausible they'd prefer to suffer in silence than admit a minor defeat.

"Where am I from?" she repeated, uncertain of what response might best play into this act. The princess elect shrugged noncommittally and ignored the inquiry in favor of answering the second question. "I came here to think, to dwell on the past, present, and future, as I was under the assumption I'd be alone in the hot spring with my thoughts," Rhiane announced before giving an exaggerated sigh. "I didn't expect a handsome devil to have snuck in here. And to what end? Would you have me believe you crept into the women's bath to chat with nude women and have no ill intentions?" she asked with a raised brow.

No sooner had the words left her lips than she thought to kiss him. It would not have been the kiss of loneliness, of desperation, of yearning, and of breathless anticipation that had seized her earlier that morning. She had shed her identity and was going to kiss him to show her joy, her approval, her amusement, her more jubilant desire. If sunrise had brought a want for Luke without the crown, the sunset had brought a want for the personality that Luke held when he was not even himself. Just as Rhiane was leading forward to tempt him she paused, worried that he would take this opportunity to reject her, or list the numerous reasons they ought to keep apart physically. Then again, he had known the dangers before he shed his robe and dismissed Tobias. She wavered in that indecision, turned towards him, yet not quite touching. "You have work," she murmured to herself more than him as if to give an excuse why he might step away in advance of a denial.
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Her choice of words amused him so much that he chuckled, looking away and shaking his head. Was that how Rhiane had always seen him – a handsome devil? His face turned into the sky as his amusement faded into the night. The stars were plentiful and bright. It shouldn’t hurt the balance of the universe if one would fall and grant him one wish that night. “Handsome devil.” Luke seemed to test the words as it quietly rolled on his tongue. A grin brightened his face even as his mind wandered to places from his past, to memories of faces he used to know. Did they see him the way his betrothed did? His birthright, his title, his fame, and his fortune were bits and bits of precious stones encrusted a mask he wore everyday as Lucius Castiglione – him and every other child born to the royal family. The shiny stones drew people towards him, women especially, because what shiny thing was not interesting? Yet, when all of it was shed, when the mask was broken, when the human face behind the glamour was revealed with all his flaws, how much of these so-called ‘friends’ would still stand by him and tell him that it was alright to be human?

“I had been called worse,” he added seemingly proud after a pause though none of his thoughts betrayed the carefree expression on his face. “I can’t say that I am sorry for sneaking in and apparently getting in the way of your soul searching. If I had walked the other way, then I would have missed this beautiful naked lady, who doesn’t seem to mind talking to strangers with alleged ill intentions. Although must it always be an ill intention that prods a gentleman to seek the company of a lady?” His face turned right at the very moment she inched hers closer, lips slightly parted as if to add more commentary about her subtle attack on men and their urges. But the next words died in his throat, together with his resolve to keep either his reputation or freedom. If he thought he could thread the flames ang not get burned, he was horribly mistaken. Rhiane was an undeniable beauty and he had a soft spot for beautiful faces. The night, the shadows playing on her features to soften it, and the light of the moon caught in her eyes, made him pause. Her lips were slightly parted too. And he waited patiently for those lips to be his again, but she whispered something making them both hesitate.

She was right. He had a nation to run and there he was, needlessly flirting with a woman who wasn’t even his type. “Even as a kid, I was expected to study how to run the family business. My childhood was not ideal. You could say that I had been working, seeking approval from my superiors, striving to be the best ever, since as long as I could remember.” He found her hand and entwined his fingers with hers, then held on. “Just a few more minutes.” Just a few more minutes of being someone else other than the next king of the land. “Or are you feeling too tired?”

A slight blush colored her cheeks. With a frown, Luke touched her chin, gently tilting her face to the light for an inspection. A warning at the pool’s entrance talked about the risks of staying too long in the pool. Was it ‘too long’ already for her? “Maybe we should get you back to the room. You can watch movies or the news. I’ll order wine.”

Luke unclasped their hands before he waded into the shallower part of the pool so he could fetch her robe for her. The night was not getting younger anyway. As much as he wanted to stay in the pool pretending to be somebody else, Rhiane must be tired from all the talking and touring and interacting with the people. Besides, she was still recovering from physical and emotional trauma. It was selfish to keep her if she would rather lay down and rest.
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"Are you sure you were seeking approval from the right people?" Rhiane asked somewhat pointedly, though she was not trying to provoke him into another verbal war. "Some are impossible to please, and will criticize what you say and do, because they demand an unattainable perfection. There are others, though, that would give you that approval of your hard work if you only gave them the chance," she added more softly. She knew that as crown prince he felt there was always an opportunity to approve; this she understood. Never getting the gratification of validation, of praise, of appreciation could be detrimental, however, and crush him were he not careful. Silently she wondered if Queen Camilla ever lavished upon him for his accomplishments. As an outsider she had presumed that the sovereign struck the right balance between being too stern and too lenient. As of late she was not so certain that Luke was not operating in a vacuum of positive reinforcement unless it was a sycophant.

"I'm not too tired," she protested lamely as he entwined his fingers but then was overcome with evident concern. The former farmer was lying to herself more than him. The fact she hadn't even buckled herself into the vehicle before promptly falling asleep on the short ride to the mountain oasis was indicative of her depleted energy level. While the hot spring had rejuvenated her, and she was not as listless and exhausted as she had been before arriving, it did not contain magical properties. That she would succumb to slumber before him was all but inevitable. Only her stubborn desire to cling to waking hours kept her fully upright and cognizant.

Just as she was starting to piece together an argument for staying he mentioned watching a movie or the news and ordering wine. Rhiane watched his backside as he drifted away towards the shallow end of the pool in confusion. This interlude of peace and flirting had been a welcome departure from their bickering. She had enjoyed it for what it was, a distraction from all their trials and tribulations, but she hadn't allowed herself to expect that it would impact his feelings about her on a whole. She was still a commoner that had insisted on dressing in peasant clothing, who had refused his plea to wear her designer dress with his coat, who had boldly defied her instructions for how to behave with the public. The event had been a great success. That did not mean, however, he forgave her for her perceived transgressions, and she did not bank on time smoothing over his frustrations.

After a few moments of hesitation she followed behind him, but rather than reaching for her garment, she wound her arms around his midsection. She was not trying to seduce him- though if he was she would not have been upset- but rather than she was seeking some manner of reassurance through physical contact. "You're not still mad at me for the tour?" she ventured. It was a sore topic she knew. Her voice faltered slightly, the late hour and toll of the day making her emotions more exposed, making her words more sincerely vulnerable than they might be otherwise. "I knew it made you angry, but I wanted to do my best, to succeed so that everyone could see how well I could do," she murmured. "I wanted to prove myself."

Rhiane paused. No matter how compromised she was from everything that had occurred, she was still reluctant to solicit an opinion from Luke. Most of the times he was thoughtful and considerate it was not on account of her feelings. Asking him for an objective assessment of her performance was an invitation for another prejudiced blow. Earlier he had not let their intimacy inhibit him from disclosing how mentally inferior he found the lower class to be. There was no guarantee he'd be kinder now than he had then. Before she knew what she was doing she spoke again, her lips brushing against his skin as she tightened her hold. "Will you really stay with me when I sleep?"

She was too proud to admit it, but she was afraid to be alone. Lia and Octavia were fine bodyguards. They would protect her from external threats she had no doubt. Neither woman would hold her when a nightmare struck, or soothe away her anxiety, or understand how terrified she had been when she had seen someone die right before her eyes. Luke came from the same world as the noblewomen did, as did Tobias, but neither was as formal and distant as her female retinue. The thought of relying upon them to rouse her from haunting memories and to watch over her as she tried to rest was more than mildly uncomfortable. In a few weeks or months she might trust them more with her heart, but she did not know, and would almost rather brave the horrors of isolation than their judgmental company.
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