Rhiane bristled at his demeanor and words in equal measure. She had done her best to explain the delicate situation, how the Black family household had shunned any and all pharmaceuticals after the death of her mother and brother, but once again he was irreverent of the circumstances. His pride and arrogance led him to all but accuse her of being an inadequate manager of the farm that had flourished under her guidance. Only under duress had she taken any medication herself, and she had no doubt that her father and surviving brother would shun whatever medical supplies were procured now or in the future. While she had mixed feelings on their stance, she did not believe it was her place to try to force pills down their throats, or threaten further bodily harm if they objected to applying a disinfectant spray. It was easier and more beneficial to make the larger, sweeping changes to their living conditions, ones that she knew they would quietly accept when she had departed for the castle. In one fell swoop Luke had insulted her, condescended, and proved had had not really [i]listened[/i] with full attentiveness how the trauma of two deaths, two very preventable deaths, had forever changed her family's perspective on the industry that callously let them down in their time of greatest need. Not only that, he had minimized her earnest efforts to help the people she loved most in the world.

Silently she simmered as he called Anelle, his adoring second-in-command, and overstepped his welcome. Already she was agitated, but to hear him speak with the very woman who had stolen away his night, whom he entrusted with tasks and spoke to as a peer, and who had been a lover he had willingly spent nights with was too much to bear. He had dealt a blow to her fragile feelings towards him, and the carelessness afterwards made the wound fester, her anger stoked until it made her face burn with fury. Just because she was not someone that he spent time with by choice did not mean she would tolerate endless disrespect.

It was true that she was tired, just not in the way he imagined. Any other woman in their right mind, star-struck by the wealth and prestige of the crown, or smitten with the handsome bachelor playboy, would have fled from the engagement days ago. Not just anyone could survive the numerous obstacles she had overcome, from being injured and abandoned at her first ball while her betrothed slept with another woman, being poisoned, having the brakes on their vehicle cut, being ambushed at a clinic and held at gunpoint, all while maintaining a flawless public image, never faltering while she was treated with disdain or contempt, when she was shunned or ignored. She was tired of being taken for granted, verbally abused, and ostracized in perpetuity. Physical exhaustion was one of the least of her worries. The bar had reminded her that she deserved much more than the monarchy had to offer. Were she able to rid herself of her infatuation, she would have already left for the rebellion, who would have empathized with her and understood her.

Suddenly she stood and stalked over to the door, flinging it open despite not having a shred of clothing on her body. "Get out," she veritably growled. To emphasize her point she pushed him towards the hallway. Luke was stronger than Rhiane, but she had not won the contest by being a delicate, dainty flower, and she had spent several seasons helping to haul the harvest from one place to another. Before now she had no reason to prove that the slender muscles in her arms were not a mere illusion.

"Do you really not know why I'm letting Tobias keep one? Because if anyone tried to ridicule my art I know he'd defend it, that he'd defend me, that he wouldn't let someone dismiss my talent or effort. Can you claim you'd do the same? That you'd vigorously defend it against your relatives and your friends if they called it nonsense, a waste of time, an embarrassment? When I talk to Tobias he wants to hear my opinion and doesn't automatically assume I'm an ignorant idiot. He doesn't treat me like a mongrel that the palace was forced to let inside. He doesn't treat me like an inconvenient burden. He treats me like a [i]person[/i] that is interesting and deserving of the same damn respect everyone else is. Maybe the reason you're so paranoid your cousin has feelings for me is because you know if you were not the prince that everyone would prefer him instead. You're damn lucky he wasn't interested in Sophia!" she fumed as she slammed the door shut, turning the lock.

To keep herself from bursting into tears Rhiane kicked her bedpost in frustration before loudly tearing through her closet. She would get dressed, but not in his presence, where she would be subjected to further criticisms and complaints. Briefly the princess elect's fingers paused over a dress sandwiched between two cheap plastic hangers. It was solid black, belted at the waist but otherwise plain, the bottom hem just above the knees. Twice she had worn the dress: once for her mother's burial and once for her brother's. Carefully she pulled it free from the other clothing and sat on the bed, chewing her bottom lip, terrified of revisiting the graves of two individuals she had never truly had a chance to grieve. This could be the worst day of her publicized tour- the day the jewel of the masses broke down in front of the cameras and sobbed.

Tobias was at the top of the stairs. Where he stood he could not see the nude Rhiane, but he could her explosive declarations, could see the heir to the throne being shoved out as he was compared to the bodyguard. He stayed perfectly still until her heard the door close and then, without saying a word, passed Luke on his way to claim his favorite painting in Edwin's room.