While celebrities who desired to keep their identities unknown bow their heads and hide their faces, Luke stood confidently tall. Even in just a plain v-neck shirt, tailored pants, and sneakers, his blonde head and elegant features were out of place. If he thought that an old-fashioned building with all its loud patrons was not where cameras would catch him in, it did to show on his face. The place glowed in a soft yellow hue from well-kept post-war lamps hanging from the wooden beams overhead. Names of food and concocted drinks were written using bright colored chalks on a chalkboard behind screens showing sports coverage. A line of wooden bar stools filed parallel the counter. The barkeep lifted his head and grinned upon finding the familiar face of a patron. Then his eyes drifted to the man beside Rhiane. 

Luke nodded absently as he entwined his fingers around hers. So far so good. No mobile phones pointed at his direction, nobody staring openly at him except for the few moments with the barkeep. Maybe Rhiane was right, it was fine. 

They passed the men of the Black household without their notice. It was as if they were people who belonged to the crowd, unremarkable and not at all interesting. Most of the crowd was drawn to the stories of the newly rich men and the renovations that their home was undergoing. A small settlement such as Rhiane’s hometown tend to be knit tighter together. It was therefore not surprising to overhear talks and jokes about the renovation of the estate that Rhiane had pioneered. He would not be surprised if these men and women already heard about how he did manual labor the whole day. But so long as nobody asked, he didn’t care what they knew. 

Luke followed his fiancee’s lead to an unoccupied table. But the couple had barely sat down when a man who Luke branded automatically as one of Rhiane’s exes offered to buy them a drink. The prince’s initial reaction was a cold blue sideways glance. As if the man was not worth moving his face for. His eyes went over the feature of the stranger’s face then it returned to watching the match being aired on the monitors. He was perfectly content to ignore the friendly hospitality offered by the stranger until Rhiane introduced her fiance to the married man. The royal locked eyes with the princess elect, not frowning, but questioning her life choices. Of all the people inside the bar, she was the only one who was aware of how uneager the crown prince was in making acquaintances out of commoners. Yet, there she was introducing a stranger who unabashedly called his future king by his nickname. Not even by his first name, but his nickname.

“Manners are taught in kindergarten. Unl--” Upon turning his head to face the stranger, his eyes grazed the face of his betrothed. Luke cleared his throat and straightened his back. He ignored the outstretched hand and instead raised his to call the attention of a waitress. 

She was a petite lady in black button-up uniform and dark brown ponytail. Her face paled and just as quickly colored a shade of pink as realization dawned her. She took tentative steps to the table. The impatience on her customer’s level gaze encouraged her to move faster. “Hello, Rhiane. You’ll have the usual?”

“Your menu, please.” Luke demanded. In bars he visited, there was no need to demand for the menu or even call for a server. His presence was enough to trigger the management to mobilize his crew to ensure that the royal was comfortable and happy. The rural, it seemed, was left behind not only in terms of technological advances, but also in customer service. 

The waitress, flustered by the quiet command, fished a tablet tucked on her back and presented it to Luke. He pushed the device to the man Rhiane called Terzo. “Tonight is on me. Order whatever you want.” Then to the waitress he said, “I’ll have whatever she will have. I’m curious what the usual is.” He turned to her and finally smiled as if mischievous thoughts ran in his head.