There were few people that Rhiane actively disliked as much as Anelle. She had battled with merchants and vendors, been offended at the gender bias and misogyny of her fellow farmers, even damned the royal family from afar for the failings of the monarchy. Despite the constant frustrations of her life, her dislike had not been as deeply personal. Professional acquaintances were trying to use circumstances to their advantage, as was the way of business, her peers had been raised in an environment steeped with prejudice that colored their worldview, and she had not known Queen Camilla nor her children intimately enough to forge a personal dislike. There were no such excuses for Anelle's behavior. She continued to poke and prod at the princess elect's raging insecurities, exposing them in the brunette's heart and mind, simply because she wanted to do so. No one had targeted Rhiane maliciously since her school days. Even the most cranky, old-fashioned, and contentious people in the village hadn't singled her out with such animosity.

As much as she disliked Anelle, she hated much more the effect she had. When the princess elect was alone with her prince she could pretend for brief moments they were bickering like any other two people, or that they could find commonality and understanding, that she was not destined for a tragedy in a decade, perhaps less. The lady of high breeding reminded the idealist within the betrothed woman that this was only a political arrangement, that everything was stacked against them, that she could never reach the dais on which her fiance stood. Rhiane had always been a fighter, but she was emotionally and mentally fatigued from her battles before she entered the contest. For years she had supported her brother and father, leading them, blazing a path, struggling late at night to teach herself accounting, the nuances of agriculture her mother never had the time to impart, the domestic chores no one else would take on and had never been her responsibility before. All her sexual escapades before engagement had been distractions, an outlet for pent up energy, an escape. While she did not want to lose to someone like Anelle, or fail the kingdom that unknowingly marched towards to its destruction, she was weary.

"You are correct, it is late, and you are in my way," Rhiane replied brusquely with such a frigid air that Tobias's gaze immediately shot to the rear view mirror to watch her with renewed interest. Luke's cousin had been trying to ignore the couple in the back seat, but hearing the peasant bristle was a sign he might be able to be her knight in shining armor this evening yet.

"Excuse me, Miss Anelle," Tobias interjected as he hopped out of the passenger seat and moved to open the door directly in front of the image manager. It was subtle, but there was a glint in his eyes that undeniably spoke to his loyalty, and attraction to, the woman to which he was assigned.

"Take the call here," Rhiane offered affably. She was not an individual without flaws, but her acting was impeccable when she put forth the effort. It was as if she had not looked both enraged and deflated at once moments prior when they had slowed to a stop on the gravel driveway. Nolan, focused on Luke, and Tobias, trying to pretend he was doing anything except escorting his infatuation home with another man, may not have noticed, but the handsome blonde beside her almost certainly had perceived the shift in disposition. Weeks together had made them all too familiar with idiosyncrasies that laid bare hidden feelings.

"I'll be in [i]our[/i] room," the princess elect announced as Anelle was forced to backpedal for Tobias to open the door. Leaning in more closely she whispered to her paramour, though not loudly enough any of the rest could overhear, "try not to make me wait too long. If I fall asleep and someone has to be sent in our room to wake me, I won't be wearing anything," she playfully threatened. Recognizing she could not compete with his mother, she could at least provide a very strong incentive for Luke to return to her as soon as possible.

"Tobias, would you mind helping me with something?" Rhiane asked as she stepped out of the SUV, purposefully keeping her body between Luke and Anelle to physically bar the latter's approach until Tobias could close the car door behind her. "I need to move a few belongings that I didn't have the time for this morning," she remarked casually, already thinking of what she might do with her old paintings. What sentimental value they had faded; the canvases had been abandoned in the room for some time, and it wasn't as if they were fit to be carried back to the castle and put on display. Mentally she had resigned herself into shoving them into a corner of the house or throwing them out to make space.