So much for wishing for a quiet night. The crown prince hid his disappointment behind a rather long swig of the strong liquor. It had taken a few sips, but he had pretty much gotten used to the drink. Or at least his throat no longer fought to expel the liquid. He was after that comforting buzz, that sweet spot between being sober and intoxicated. It was what he needed after having willingly entered a non-exclusive bar and which brought him to the present circumstances – being surrounded by people he would rather not meet in his lifetime. There were Terzo and Sebastian who at least was able to hold a decent conversation with him, but statistics dictated that there must be more who were a lot less pleasant company than the two. 

He smiled a little at the insult her fiancee effectively shot at the man who called himself Mon. The guy deserved it. But the smile faltered as Luke understood the unsaid words, that the ass of a man must have been one of the exes she talked about earlier. Tall, tanned, ill-mannered. The prince could have asked if her taste in men had always been bad if she had not continued to approve to entertain the questions of her friends and neighbors. Yet what he thought was important was how she conducted their reunion. The cold shoulder and the slur should be enough to discourage others of his kind. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” Terzo prodded, smiling at Luke as if the commoner read the expression on the royal’s face perfectly. 

“Meeting one of my fiancee’s exes, no. Definitely not.” Luke’s face almost automatically shuttered as he turned to the plate before him which begged for attention. He wondered whether the food was indeed good or that he underestimated the hunger of his stomach. One thing he learned when he willingly submitted himself to slavery at the training camp was that hunger made every food better.

Terzo chuckled. For some reason unknown to the royal, the commoner did not join the crowd who were trying to have a catch-up session with Rhiane. He remained in his sit peacefully sipping on his pint. Luke had finished his without even knowing. “Want more?” When Luke nodded, Terzo was more than pleased to call a waitress and order another round for the two of them. He leaned on his forearm on the table, peering at the royal as he continued attacking his food in silence. “It did not occur to me that his royal highness is such a possessive man.”

The statement was not glorified with a reply, but Luke did pause and stare long enough for the commoner to backpedal though figuratively. “I watch the news, Luke. Between you and Rhiane, it’s she who has the right to be anxious about the past relationships of her future spouse.” The waitress arrived with their liquors. Terzo grabbed his unfinished mug and clinked the glass against Luke’s. “With all due respect,” he added as if as an afterthought. 

To be fair, Terzo was correct. Luke let the issue be. Half listening to the discussion being led by his fiancee, he finished the plate of spicy pasta and drank half of his liquor. Terzo would chime in occasionally, but most of the time he was an active listener too. Rhiane’s friends honored their part of the bargain. Though a number of them kept on stealing glances at the future king, none confronted him directly. Therefore, he was able to finish his meal. He had just placed the fork down, reading a message from his staff reminding him of the authorization his air force staff needed, when somebody from farther in the back of the bar called Terzo. 

“Aren’t you gonna join in?” A male voice asked. 

“Why not join in, Luke?” It was Sebastian. He had migrated, apparently, from the bar seat to the empty seat beside Luke. “It’s a popular game from the old world,” the farmer explained. “The goal of the game is to shoot these little balls into the cups arranged on the table. There will be two teams.” He made one of the plastic balls bounce on the table. 

“And every time the opposing team makes a goal, you take a shot. Simple.”

“Yet, a lot of the drunken stories begin with it.”

It sounded familiar. Maybe he saw the game being played in one of the old world movies he watched. Regardless that it sounded simple enough to be fun, he was prepared to decline the invitation. If it had been his people, he could have humored them, but who knew what these farmers had in mind. What if they set it up to humiliate or get something out of him. 

Terzo persisted with a grin. “It will be fun. We will agree to put all our devices down here on the table. No cameras. What happens in The Long Night remains in The Long Night.”

Well, it did not take much convincing to make Luke get to his feet. Gerald commented about Luke not cut out for sports. But it was Sebastian leaning over to whisper that there was a password on the drive that got the royal. The prince shot the foreigner a dirty look, emptied the remaining content of his mug, and followed Terzo to the far end of the bar. The people cheered when he did. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him,” Sebastian told Rhiane before following the two men. Gerald was on his heels.

It was Terzo and Luke on the team, a male and female farmer on the opposite team. The game had not been long before Luke learned that Terzo sucked at it. They were drinking glass after glass of the poison before the first goal was secured by Luke. The bar erupted in a roar, even the prince cheered with them. Grinning, he locked gaze with Rhiane and pointed at her as if dedicating the first point of his team to his fiancee. Once he got his rhythm, the game was his, although they were too far into it for him to save it. In the end, Luke’s team lost. Such failure cost them several glasses of alcohol in their bellies and the bill for the liquors consumed for the game. Traditionally, the loser was replaced by a challenger, but that night, the crown prince whose cheeks was already pinkish due to the alcohol, insisted on another round. Terzo begged off the game and his place taken over by Gerald. The second round was theirs therefore they had to remain for the third round.