"I didn't lie," Rhiane protested, which was factually true upon review of the exact statement she had given. "My comments were honest, they just were arranged in a way that might have misled, but the fault remains with them if they draw the wrong conclusions." It was a tactic that mitigated, or perhaps absolved, her of blame if later something was divulged by a third party that was more forthright or added a damaging amount of clarity. Some of the aristocracy was purposefully deceptive. Other members of the nobility refused to answer questions. Even Luke had to utilize social sidestepping in delicate situations; but while his audience was limited to New Rome's elite, she did not have luxury of ignoring the public. The princess elect had to be open, but not offensive, kind, but not a bleeding heart, compassionate, but able to be composed at any time. Luke had more responsibility than she did, but she had equally impossible expectations for behavior, all while knowing she'd still be killed and forgotten one day, and the upper echelon of the society would scorn her irregardless of her performance.

With a heavy sigh she took his hand, interlacing her fingers, and stared out a window at the landscape. Though there was still a short drive ahead of them, and they were not technically in her home town quite yet, the area was still familiar, as occasionally she had traversed this same route to get supplies from the nearest city. Rolling hills gave way to a seemingly endless expanse of flat plain perfect for farming. Houses were spaced farther apart and periodically dwarfed by large barns for a green sea of pasture. She recognized properties of her former peers, former trade partners, former one-night stands, and acquaintances that would frequent the same bar she did after a long day of toiling in the fields.

Rhiane remembered during an interview during the contest that a reporter once told her that her talent had been wasted in the countryside. At the time she had taken the compliment and thought little of it. Now she pondered whether she had ever belonged in the rural outcroppings of the nation. She had felt she had applied her skills well in saving her business from the verge of collapse, in managing her father and brother, in keeping a household intact, and giving more than she took. Becoming the princess elect had spun all of it on its head. To say that she was happy in the castle would be wrong, but on the tour she began to feel she might belong there one day, that in applying herself on a larger stage she was securing a legacy that would endure beyond one family. There was a small chance she could improve everyone's lives.

"I don't know I'll ever be ready for this. I had hoped if left alone they'd calm down in time for the wedding," she murmured in contemplation. Considering that the wedding had yet to be officially scheduled, it was a generous window of time, months in all likelihood. "If you really meant what you said back there about the dress, that's the sort of thing that will leave a better impression with them. They'd think more highly of you if they thought you worried about me attracting or having unwanted attention." Both men had at one point tried to chase away 'unworthy' men that tried to make a match with the willful Rhiane. They might never see Luke as deserving, but they'd be slightly less skeptical if they saw him as possessive, as that would indicate he cared enough about her to be unwilling to share his prize.

Her grip slackened slightly as she began to doze. The interlude at the spa was meant to give her rest after a restless night and taxing day, but her romp with Luke had not been brief. Unfortunately, she also was not able to sleep in late, as they had to catch a plane early to make this impromptu visit. Rhiane had slept deeply when she did, but she was lulled into a sense of security while Luke held her hand, and the nap was sorely needed if she was going to keep having her evening hours interrupted by more sensual needs and urges being fulfilled.

----

The Black Farm had a small stone sign at the end of a long gravel driveway flanked by leafy shrubs. Rows of crops, most harvested but with some waiting to be plucked, stretched out on both sides of the path that functioned as a natural divider. As the SUV turned and began to rumble towards the house they could see neat sections devoted to the produce and vegetables that were sold in bushels and crates by the farming family. Trellises of grapes rose out of the earth the closer they drew to the building ahead. Ripe purple and red bunches glistened with dew as the sun crept higher into the sky. It was true that farms were dirty, evidenced by the dirt that coated the lower half of their vehicle, but it was remarkably picturesque, due in no small part to the slumbering brunette who had organized it with carefully planning and a critical eye.

"Do you want me to wake her?" Tobias asked as they came to a soft stop. Ahead lay a two-story residence with a pale yellow stucco and clay tile roof as was the traditional architecture of the area. It was bigger than others in the area, though not at all comparable to the mansions with which Luke was accustomed. When Rhiane had vaguely alluded to it she had described as 'small' and 'humble,' but a cursory glance suggested it had enough rooms for everyone living inside to have their space and not need to share beds. The Black family had been poor, and in debt, but the home itself had been built by previous generations, and their success had left the current occupants with a better house than they could have otherwise afforded.