When the games started, the crown prince was admittedly a little stiff. He was forced in a position where he had to choose between his personal bias and the information he worked hard to obtain. Silently, he cursed the cunning foreigner for twisting his arm and holding his information hostage. Luke hated losing. It was what happened. He had lost to Sebastian and he was losing to a couple of farmers who must have been playing the bar game for quite some time now. Certainly, they would brag about their victory, such victory was infinitely sweeter when the loser was the crown prince himself. But as the game progressed, with Terzo getting more and more drunk, Luke finally found his rhythm and the game became fun. In the end, he was grinning ear to ear as he took it upon himself to finish up glasses that was meant for his team mate. 

One game was not enough. He would not go home a loser, especially not while Rhiane was watching. It was an odd thought, but it was not something his fuzzy brain was prepared to process. Rhiane’s brother was suddenly at Luke’s side either to prove himself a better player or to come to the prince’s rescue. Whatever it was, the game and alcohol made the future in-laws better acquainted than when they were glaring daggers over a silent disagreement. The prince became chattier too while playing. Well, he trash-talked the opponents as much as Gerald did as if the team mates were competing as to who was the better trash-talker. It made the game more interesting and the crowd more entertained. 

After winning the second game, Luke was high-fiving other people in the bar. Most of them had warmed up to the side of the prince which was not so stiff and formal, striking casual small talks and short congratulations. Then Rhiane said that he only had one more game left. Not that Luke was opposed to the idea, but she knew the rules that if they won, which they would, it meant another round. It would not stop until the whole bar was crawling back to their hovels. He and Gerald would make sure of it. Just as he was about to object, the princess elect leaned in and whispered something to his ear and without giving him a chance to respond, kissed him. It didn’t matter that her brother was watching or that her father was among the crowd, Luke pulled her body against his and reciprocated her action with equal if not more passion.

Her retreat had him longing to forfeit the game and fulfill that obligation she told him about. Gerald did not miss the look on the prince’s face. He punched the royal’s upper arm, not too lightly but not enough to really hurt. Then as Luke turned to his team mate, Gerald shot a ping pong ball at the prince’s forehead, catching it as it bounced back to him. “Head on the game,” he half-reprimanded and half-reminded. 

Luke shrugged, smirking. “This one is for my lady love,” the prince boldly declared. He needed not point at Rhiane that time. He just tossed the ball and waited for it to find its own cup. The goal caused happy cheers as he winked at Rhiane and mouthed the word “later.”

The third round was quick not because the challengers were no good at playing the game, but because both Luke and Gerald seemed to have renewed their competitive spirit with a new will to win. At the end of it, the crowd cheered for Gerald and Luke. As was Rhiane’s ultimatum, Luke tried to withdraw from the team. Gerald, understanding the way his partner stared at his sister, coaxed the prince to play one more round. The farmer did not succeed though. There was no bargaining chip to stop the prince from withdrawing. Besides, Luke had already won two rounds. It was time to retire before his luck ran out. However, to mitigate any damages in their new-found bond, Luke ordered a round of drinks for everybody. 

While they celebrated because of the free booze, Luke disentangled himself from the center of attention and found his fiancee among her friends. Not just one lady stepped in his way, trying to catch his attention, especially as the man’s better judgment was a bit compromised due to the alcohol. He was polite in declining the company, saying that his fiancee was just right there watching. 

When he reached the spot where she leaned against a table conversing with a group of people. Luke possessively snaked an arm around her waist. “Whenever you’re ready, we can call it a night,” he whispered.