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.