"You've nothing to worry about Nolan," Rhiane reassured. "I grew up with two elder brothers. They made sure I would be able to defend myself. If anyone has any doubt what Luke might or might do, they [i]know[/i] what I can and will do if they don't mind themselves." She flashed a dazzling smile. There had been an investigation into her past when she was but a mere princess candidate, but no one had been willing to disclose more than was absolutely necessary. The palace, and by extension the public, had not a shred of evidence that she had engaged in the unladylike behavior that was reality. More than once she had thrown a punch and broken a nose, defended another patron in a brawl, or exchanged some particularly vulgar words in a heated argument. Her town had not betrayed her. They loathed the scrutiny of public officials, distrusted outsiders, and sincerely wanted one of their own to be elevated to a higher standing. Perhaps they could not live a dream, but Rhiane could, and so they conveniently forgot tales that would be received in a positive light.

"Be careful," Tobias warned, watching with apprehension as the prince and his betrothed climbed out of the vehicle. He disapproved of this plan even more than the other bodyguard. Despite what his cousin thought, he did not hate him. He wanted Luke to be more than he was, but he didn't want to see him dead, only for the monarchy to adapt or fall so that the common folk could be liberated. The co-mingled concern for his relative and a woman he cared for deeply had him more scared for them than he had felt in years, perhaps ever. Inside this unassuming, quaint, rural municipality, there were still threats to their reputation and livelihood.

"You too," Rhiane said as she bounced out of the vehicle with a wide smile. "I'm sure Anelle will be calling you both when she can't reach Luke about the change in schedule. Good luck!" She swore she heard grumbling as she closed the door behind him.

Piero's bar was an old-fashioned building built sometime shortly after the cataclysmic event that shattered the old world. A sign outside proclaimed the name of the establishment to be The Long Night. Gerard, Sebastian, and Hubert had already gone inside, secured a table, and were surrounded by a group of individuals- but not all. The right side of the room did not seem to care about the Black family or recent news of a royal visit. Some were clearly on dates, one group of bachelors were having a raucous discussion about sports, and there was a woman in a corner sobbing about a recent romantic relationship turned sour while friends consoled her. Singles drank and dined at the wooden bar in the center of the room, reading off their devices, speaking to one another, or watching one of the two flat screens showing broadcast of a sports game and a popular long-running game show.

"I told you it'd be fine," she whispered as she took Luke's hand and started to lead him to a table where they could sit.

As they began to pass Gerard, Sebastian, and Hubert, they could not help but overhear the topic of conversation, which had nothing to do with the heir to the throne, the tour, or the upcoming nuptials. There were congratulations and questions about the upgrades that were finally underway and good-natured jokes about asking the recently rich for loans. Historically the immediate family members of the elect that wed into New Rome's sovereignty would themselves become lords and ladies of minor renown. That neither Hubert nor Gerard asked for as much spoke to their feelings more than any other action they could take. The masses speculated as to their reasoning, thinking them humble, or content with farming, or afraid of the spotlight, but it was because they could not endorse the current state of society. No one seriously would take advantage of the Black family, not here, nor would they accuse them of turning their backs on the less fortunate. This was a place of safety and acceptance.

"Ahhh, I wondered when you might come in here," a man approximately a decade older than the pair said as he approached. He wore black slacks and a button-up white shirt rolled up to the elbows. Unlike the other customers, his hands were not nearly as heavily calloused, and his skin was not deeply tanned. If one was to wager a guess, he was of low birth but did not labor in the sun as so many of his peers did. "Am I allowed to buy you two a drink? You have my condolences," he said with a bow to Luke. It was not a bow of reverence, but a small, teasing gesture, accentuated by the grin on his lips. "A woman with the most pig-headed brother is able to inherit three younger siblings, and a man with three younger siblings is about to have the most difficult brother-in-law imaginable. I don't envy either of you. Every day I thank the stars my wife is an only child."

"I think you thank your stars every day that your wife likes to clean," Rhiane observed aloud. "Luke, this is Terzo, he runs a Bed and Breakfast, but his wife hates alcohol, so he comes here to get his fix."

"Since you left no one's been able to help me in twisting Mario's arm for getting a better price on things," Terzo sighed. "A lot of people have missed you and your negotiating power. It is nice to meet you, Luke," the man greeted, extending his hand. He was not treating the crown prince any differently than any other boyfriend to an acquaintance. Polite, but casual, amiable, but not pushy, he was what Rhiane had promised Luke other people could be if he could find the right ones to give a chance to get to know him.