Left to her own devices for the day, Rhiane quickly called in Lia, Octavia, and Tobias, since Luke had insisted on three bodyguards, and set them to work. Using her 'volunteers' to measure the dimensions of each room and the furniture contained therein, she sketched the Black household in detail onto sheets of paper attached to her clipboard. Marks and notes were made as to where there were windows and doorways, where there was damage to the walls, where there were curtains and rugs. The result was an inventory of what needed to be addressed for her renovations. In totality it took approximately two hours for her to finish this task and make preliminary plans as to in what order she would send out inquiries for services. They dared not say anything aloud, but she could see out of the corner of her eye the relief on the faces of her security detail when they were allowed to be at ease while she sat at her desk.

The reprieve was short-lived. What the palace had failed to appreciate was how well suited their princess elect was to management. Her skills had been forged by necessity; Sebastian was passive, Hubert had been drowning in grief since the death of his wife and was equal amounts hot-headed and a doormat for a sob story, and Gerard was short-sighted. None of them had the raw efficiency of the only daughter of the late matriarch. Though she had no desire to ever be a queen that ruled, an ambition of other woman that sought the favor of her fiance, her innate social abilities lent themselves to leadership. Rhiane knew when to push, to encourage, to praise, to reprimand, to console, or to punish, and most importantly she knew how to delegate playing to the strengths of her counterparts.

The first call of the day had been to a local painting and wall repair company approximately an hour away. At first they politely advised that their availability was limited for the next two weeks, but upon realizing the identity of the voice on the other end of the line, they miraculously assembled a crew to respond immediately. Tobias was assigned oversight of the team upon their arrival. Rhiane herself gave the tradesmen instructions, showing them gouges to be patched and areas where new drywall was required. Any illusions they might have had that they would have an unlimited budget without scrutiny was quickly dismissed. The former farmer had a sharp eye, an astute sense of value, and was unafraid of confrontation. By the evening every blemish had been smoothed and primed for a fresh coat of paint the next day.

Second only to the issue of the walls was that of the floors. Rhiane called a carpenter with which she was personally acquainted for recommendations of nearby professionals experienced in wood floor refinishing. The first choice did not answer and, since time was of the essence, she gave the second the job. Admittedly it was a subjectively simple job; sanding, reapplying the stain, and finishing with a polish. Olivia was their supervisor, coordinating with Tobias so that the workers did not overlap in a way that would prohibit further progress. Fortunately, this was not the first time the laborers had been at a site where there was a hub of activity. Perhaps they could have been left to their own devices, but the royal-to-be was exceedingly reluctant to create any opportunity where they could take unauthorized lengthy breaks, and knew the presence of her bodyguard would deter them from trying to test their limits.

There was a flurry of other contracts established. A tailor brought samples of specialty fabric to recreate the faded curtains. Both a custom cabinetry manufacturer and a stoneworks contractor (who primarily installed granite countertops) took measurements and pictures so they could begin their designing process. Traders in local and imported artisanal rugs carted their wares up the gravel road and past the imposing figures of Nolan and his peers, and Lia accompanied Rhiane as she inspected, negotiated, and selectively bought what met her approval. Electronically she perused paintings, sofas, chairs, tables, beds, and other things that were not readily available from the same vendor. By the time Lia would finish assisting in a transaction there was already another for her to facilitate.

Upstairs rooms required an escort by Rhiane for admission. Edwin's had been untouched since his death and was veritable a shrine to the virtuous soul he had been. The brunette hovered around anxiously, cleaning the thick layer of dust off the dressers, nightstand, and other surfaces while the workers toiled diligently. They were quiet and respectful of the deceased. Much as she cursed the recent news coverage, it had the unintentional benefit of drawing attention to her losses, to which nearly everyone was sympathetic. Gerald and Sebastian's room had a closet that she closely monitored no one peeked inside- no one was stupid enough to demand why. The master bathroom had Violet's clothing, jewelry, and vanity, which the laborers treated with as much reverence as Edwin's belongings. Lastly was Rhiane's own bedroom, tidied before she had left, with various types of artwork hung from every corner, each bearing her initials. She had taken these all down and piled them up, face down, allegedly for the wall repairs.

Sebastian, Gerard, Hubert, and Luke returned to find the conductor of the refurbishment orchestra with her hair piled atop her head in a messy bun. Her hands and cheeks were smudged with errant bits of grime that had accumulated during the course of the day. Her sweater had been tied under her bust, exposing her midriff, but its purpose to help keep her cool rather than be a seductive sight. Soft cotton covers were over her shoes to prevent imprints on the polished floor that had been dried quickly at great expense. What her betrothed had probably intended to be her day of rest had been anything but; she was the executor of a plan that would not be hindered by anything short of divine intervention.

"You're back!" she exclaimed as she saw them walking in approach. The smile that had alighted on her face flattened into disappointment as she stared at her brother and father with such indignant fury that Sebastian winced reflexively, despite not being a target of her wrath. "I expected more of the two of you, but I can see that you were jackasses. Those gloves are for the compost," she observed, "What a fine way to prove the kindness of commoners, by making him do a task that you [i]both[/i] bitch about so much, an [i]adult[/i] like myself had to do it when I lived here."

"He wanted to prove himself," Gerard shot back.

"I have half a mind to ask Tobias to bend you over his knee and thrash you. You ought to apologize," she fumed, livid, and stalked up to her taller sibling until they were separated by mere inches.

"I'll take one, you take the other," Sebastian groaned in a whisper under his breath. "She won't hit anyone [i]except[/i] Gerard, and she'll definitely do it for you, whether or not you object." Without waiting for affirmation that Luke was in agreement, he maneuvered behind his paramour in anticipation of an outburst.

"Apologize?" Gerard repeated incredulously. "He did better than I thought he would," he conceded begrudgingly, "but I'll never apologize..." he stubbornly insisted. His sister's arm tensed in preparation for an outlet for all her frustration- something for which he was making himself a prime target.