Luke nodded when Nolan met his stare from the rear-view mirror. The prince was made aware, through several occasions, that Rhiane was fond of these unannounced closed-door meetings. Denying her the privacy would only mean disaster for the tour and the most possibly their joint image. So, he just nodded and bit back a dry retort, waiting for her to give him a piece of her mind.

When she began her little speech, Luke turned to look at her only because it was polite to do so. She was beautiful that morning. She was beautiful with her bare face and naked body, but the carefully placed highlights and contours enhanced her features. His attention was arrested by her lips as it moved, the waves of her hair cascading down her shoulder, the gentle planes of her face as the morning sunlight worshipped it. She was as beautiful as a goddess from the ancient texts, but he was not about to agree with her proposal. 

Luke’s answer was a flat, “No.”

He let the silence stretch between them, before speaking again. “This is not the capital. The people I have on the security team is stretched too thinly as it is. I cannot put more strain by creating a different itinerary each for the two of us. Not today.” The prince was firm in his refusal. Sebastian might have given the information that the rebellion was leaning away from the idea of turning Rhiane into a martyr, but it had only been a few days since the last attempt. The memory of her tears as she tried to make sense of the guilt she pinned on herself while they were inside the wrecked vehicle, the pain of her broken arm that she fought to hide from him, the way she thrashed in her sleep as nightmares invaded her dreams. It was something he’d rather not relive for the second time. It hurt him to watch his stubborn fiancee brought down to her knees by circumstances he could have easily prevented. Therefore, if anybody asked if he was protecting her health, he’d surely claim that he was doing it for his own sanity. 

“You may argue that this is your hometown. Maybe you trust the people whose face you knew and whose childhood was similar to yours, but I don’t. Loyalties can be bought, Rhiane.” He paused, searching her face for any reaction. “I don’t want you to be the one paying the price just because I was not careful enough. Besides, it’s right about time that we stopped pretending.” Making the people believe the lies that the crown worked so hard to propagate was secondary to her safety. If it would make it easier to convince her that sticking together was the better option, then he’d have to nurse that spark of hope he’d seen in her gaze until it burned into something more than a distant dream. Until it turned into a semblance of reality.

With the bouquets sitting in between them, Luke reached out to cover her hand with his. A gesture which he was certain Rhiane was already used to at that point. “I don’t care what they believe or how they imagine me to be, but if lying to them means pretending that I care for you - that I am in love with you – then they got it all wrong.” His thumb traced nervous circles at the back of her hand. “I’m saying that it’s about time we stopped pretending that this was all for the queen and the dynasty. You told me you like me. I feel the same. These emotions can make a fool of us.” He laughed a humorless laughter, tilting his head to the side, waiting for her to call the bluff. But was he really bluffing? Was he saying it to convince her to abandon her idea? “My mother does know me more than I know myself after all. She sent Anelle to get me to remember how the high-born ladies differ from…” The words trailed away, knowing that there was no polite way to say it.