"You could have rejected her more firmly," she pointed out when he laughed, pinched her cheek, and called her jealous. What she said was factually true. His reception of Anelle had been cold but not as brutal as the former farmer would have liked- it had clearly been ambiguous enough that the other woman clung to the hope of reigniting the relationship she held prior. Nothing short of devastating the Image Manner with an explicit denial of any potential romance would have placated the princess elect completely. Hearing the redhead be told Luke would discuss their history 'some other time' had been frustrating. That he did not utter the word 'No' when she suggested a bottle of wine had made Rhiane absolutely furious. The fiance she knew could be callous when he elected to be; he did not withhold his verbal punches when they were alone. The more she dwelt upon it the more convinced she was that the highborn lady had been the subject of more special treatment than she, the very woman chosen to bear his children, the commoner who was responsible for elevating his reputation.

If the kiss did not melt away her anger, his acquiescence to her request did. She still believed he was ill prepared for what a sit down with her father and brother would be like. The courts were a dangerous place where being stabbed in the proverbial back was more commonplace than sincerity, but there were harsh truths that Luke was perhaps not ready to face head on, and she would not be able to reign in her family until they had delivered at least a few initial blows. It had not escaped her attention how he avoided discussing certain topics. Luke did not appear to want to carry on a conversation about the untimely death that awaited her, his father, peasant's rights, or the more acute impact the plague had on the peasantry than the nobility, but these were subjects they'd inevitability broach. They'd also demand to know the feelings he had danced around admitting or denying existed. Disaster awaited them.

But Rhiane found it increasingly harder to hold fast to her ire when he was affectionate. The simple gesture had caused a palpable shift in her demeanor. Luke could still ply her compliance with sweets, as she was just as easily bribed as before, but little acts of kindness or fondness were even more effective. The brunette did not have the typical defenses of women her age: she was adept at navigating business matters or avoiding the manipulations of the aristocracy, but when emotions tangled with intimacy she was helpless, and genuine actions proved to more compelling than words. Little did her prince know that with additional investment he could persuade her to greater concessions and compromises than he had yet managed. She would crumble if he approached her with honest romantic overtures.

"Why are you suddenly interested in my life before the castle?" she asked suspiciously. "You hated that farm tour. We'll both be miserable visiting my home town," she added with a sigh as she moved back towards the sofa with a resigned expression. Much as she would love to make the plane turn around, she realized that they were too close to cancel, and the arrangements could not be voided on a whim. "My father and brother will be hostile, my home will not meet any of your standards, agriculture on a smaller scale is not something you enjoy, and I can't imagine you'll want to visit my favorite bar or meet my neighbors. This flies in the face of what your mother wants, doesn't it? To abandon my background and assimilate myself into the castle? To defer to what you prefer?"

She didn't need his acknowledgment to know that it did. It made Rhiane uncomfortable to be exposing these vulnerable bits about herself even for him. They had arguments aplenty spurred on by the unspoken truth that she did not fit the mold cast by her predecessors, how she did not have the qualities of his prior lovers, how her childhood in poverty was a blemish upon her person in his eyes. "If this is really what [i]you[/i] want," she conceded, "as long as you know that given the choice between being trapped in that SUV on the side of the mountain or going home, I'm not sure I'd pick the latter. Just keep that wretched woman away from me." None of his platitudes would warm her to the interloper's appearance. "And promise me when I'm gone you won't marry [i]her[/i]. Practically draping herself all over you while pretending she gives a damn about portraying us as an adoring couple. I hope she trips and falls and impales herself on her stupid shoes," she grumbled discontentedly.

He wasn't wrong when he called her jealous. Rhiane remained perturbed, not in the least because she knew that she would be dead within a decade, give or take a few years, when her best reproductive years were behind her and her 'services' had been concluded. Any sons or daughters she bore would be raised by another woman. Luke's bed would be occupied by someone other than herself. There were parts of the future over which she had no control, but an assurance that the second bride would not be someone she loathed, who taunted her with coy games, and made what time she had left slightly more miserable, was the best she could ask for with her circumstances.