The disappointment on her face made him chuckle not because he enjoyed her pain, but that it showed how much she must enjoy his morning ministrations. “They are the morning appointment.” His voice was laced with amusement even as the throbbing in his head wouldn’t stop. Pretending that he was alright was an act that the prince had perfected over the years. A person in his position was not allowed to be seen as a human who suffered from multiple weaknesses, because the upper-class society was like a pool of piranhas waiting for him to commit a slight a mistake as to dip his toe into the water. Luke was too smart for that – he hoped.

Luke slipped one hand under the covers, unwilling to let the sheets separate him from her warmth while she held a loud conversation with Sebastian from the other side of the door. At the topic of her paintings, his gaze fell at the spot where he found the canvasses stacked in front of one another. It was gone. Tobias helped her clear the space in her room while he was with Anelle inside the car the night before. He wondered how long had his cousin stayed inside his fiancee’s room and how much time they spent talking about Rhiane’s hobby. “Don’t trash your work. There are good pieces in there. Why don’t you bring everything back to the capital,” Luke suggested before his mind explored the jealousy budding in his chest. “You may convert your old room into a studio. Nobody is using it anyway. Should I ask the staff to load it to the service vehicles?”

He rolled to his side and sat on the bed, slouching as he leaned his weight on the elbows propped on his knees. That liquor was indeed something. If he had known how bad the morning after was, he might have reconsidered gulping liberal amounts of the devil’s poison. But at least his vision was not blurring and there were no black spots. He grudgingly pushed himself to his feet and padded to the bathroom hoping to find a medicine cabinet. There has to be something he could use against the headache and the sick feeling in his stomach. Even a farmer’s home needed a stash of medicine for common ailments. The door was left open behind him as he searched the counter and storage spaces for anything that resembled pills. Finding not even a shadow, he resulted to washing his face and brushing his teeth using the spare toothbrush. Even the refreshingly cold water helped very little to distract him from the troublesome hangover. His parched throat wanted water and maybe a hot soup and noodles. His headache wanted a pill that would stop the signal of pain from being interpreted by his brain. But maybe it was not in her room. Maybe he was looking at the wrong place. 

Luke strolled back into Rhiane’s bedroom, one hand in the pocket of his pants, thumbing the drive that Sebastian gave him the previous night. Because of the urgent meeting with the queen and Anelle, the crown prince had yet to examine the contents of the drive. He may have some time while waiting for Rhiane get ready, but he would not dare risk exposure of such sensitive information around civilian, not even Rhiane. Maybe after they got to the plane, after Sebastian finally told him the password.

First things first. “Where do you keep medicine?” He didn’t say what was wrong or why he needed to know, just asked where he could find what he needed. But her answer or the lack of it was not what would stop him from going forward with what the day had in store for them. Luke picked up the neatly pressed shirt, which Sebastian brought to the local dry cleaner the night before, and pulled it over his head. He tamed his hair to a semblance of decency.