Taking care of the logistics was supposed to be up Anelle’s avenue. She was appointed not only to make the couple look good in public, but also make sure that both were in their prime condition for work. Such work included taking care to think about what the prince and his princess elect needed and where it should be. The change of clothes, for example, was supposed to be loaded into the service in any eventuality that the couple decided to stay in the farm house. Anelle, smart as she was, could only hope to sabotage the day probably by “forgetting” to ask her team to pack a change of clothes for the couple. It ensured that they would return to the hotel, thus she could find a way to take the prince aside and have a private moment with him. 

The lack of coordination annoyed the crown prince. It was evident in the way his lips were pressed in a thin line when he turned to look at Octavia. Although if he was about to say something, the opportunity was taken away from him by Sebastian and subsequently Rhiane. Especially when she said “we” and not “he.” He allowed her to lead him upstairs where he met the paintings on top of the stairs. She did not stop to give him the chance to critic the paintings, maybe because she thought he would, but instead continued to her room. 

“I don’t know, maybe it was this that made me stop you.” He opened the door for her then followed her inside. “Imagine where we’d be right now if I did not stop you from hitting your brother. I’m not sure where you think, but I’m sure it’s not in the privacy of your room. The looks on their faces when you announced where we’ll be is revenge enough.” He pressed a kiss on her temple before she started undressing. 

The bathroom was not as cramped as he imagined it would be. It had a shower and a tub, which was more than what a typical household would own given their financial status. However, some tiles were cracked and the paint on the wall stained with time. It was old, but functional and clean. At that moment, he was not in the position to picky. It was either Rhiane’s bath or the dirt and grime on his skin. 

Luke kicked his sneakers off. His feet felt awful, it looked raw though if he felt any pain, he did not let it show in the way he walked. The confidence of his strides was misleading. He undressed before he answered, “Whichever takes the longest. There’s no way you can make me wear your clothes while waiting for Sebastian.” So, they must take their private time in her bathroom. “I’ll help clean you up under the shower before we soak in your tub.” He turned the hot water on then did the same for the shower. It sputtered a few times before the water came running smoothly. A glass of wine would have been nice while they relaxed their tired muscles, but it was more than he could ask for from a poor household. 

He stepped under the cascading water and waited for her. “Did you cook lunch today? It was delicious.” The four of them sat under the shade of a tree devouring the flavors of homecooked meal. There was an uncertainty as to why the food tasted so tasty when it was just a salad, minestra, and pasta. Maybe he was just hungry. The memory reminded his stomach that it was in need of sustenance. It growled much to Luke’s embarrassment. “It was delicious,” he repeated with a sheepish grin. 

They took their time, without regard to how much water they wasted. The stipend would pay for the expenses, and if it would not then Luke would. Time alone together and away from the eyes of the press, however, was rare and precious. They touched and kissed and cared not that they were not alone in the property or that the following day would greet them with as much challenges as the previous day left.