"Mmmmm," and a coy smile was the only indication she gave that she had, in fact, been called a confusing woman. Admittedly this declaration was typically made with much more unkind words, especially by her brother. Not every one night stand partner had been willing to part ways when their tryst was complete. A few had tried to insult or belittle her in their confusion. Though the words had stung she did not take them personally; Rhiane knew she was very unusual, running contrary to the normal romanticism of her sex, and that could be exceptionally frustrating. For her brother she was the unyielding matriarch that had rules for their household, yet would get frequently upset with him when he didn't take initiative on matters he was sure she would claim he 'mishandled' if he did. The princess elect didn't claim to be perfect. She was acutely aware she was a broken, flawed woman, and she merely sought to keep that knowledge from the merciless crown that would rid itself of her once it saw the cracks.

"Art bears a part of the soul when it's created, and my paintings are no different," she said, casting him a sidelong glance as her attention was torn from the crowd cheering her name. Had he not distracted her with continuing the conversation she might have begged the guards to let her sign a few autographs before they left her home town. Part of her ached for the people that wanted so little from her after having been part of a community that supported for years, and we unable to have the simple gift they called for so desperately. "I'm here only by the graces of your mother because I am beneficial. If you're dragged down trying to defend me we both know what will happen," the former farmer in said a calm voice detached from the horror of her her own mortality. "What would you do if you hung up a painting and your friends laughed at it? Or your relatives insulted it? Or your mother demanded its removal? It's not that I want Tobias to defend me, but I know that he genuinely doesn't care about what anyone else thinks. He's recognized that the world doesn't care about him, so he doesn't care about it more than necessariy. You still care, Luke, and I have no delusions about my importance in your life. If part of my soul is on display, and you have to pick a side, my art or the people around you that truly matter and have no expiration date, I don't think I'd ever come out on top."

It was dangerous enough that she had developed such an emotional attachment- and if she must be honest an infatuation- with the crown prince. Because she cared about him more than she ought to she was devastated when he promised her a nightcap after their evening with her friends and then left her alone for so long she had fallen asleep waiting for him. Because she was too invested she knew that if he let his acquaintances ridicule her landscapes and impressionist pieces it would be a horrifying blow to her sense of self. Because she was head over heels for him she unconsciously held out hope that he would transform into a man he had given her no reason to believe he would become. What began as a political arrangement was now a tragically one-sided love story she was unable to dismiss.

As they walked through the marketplace Rhiane followed through with her agreement to give a tour for the camera once their public audience had been reduced and she could be heard from more than a few inches away. Not only did she know most of the businesses that had stalls or shops in the center of the town, she could name the proprietors, and give some basic information that made her introductions more friendly, familiar, and warm than when they had lords and ladies performing such a task. If required she could have been almost as crisp and polished as an aristocrat, but the goal was not to appeal to the nobility, but rather to remain firmly anchored to the humble roots as a true Cinderella tale. Manno was more than a little impressed that she was so well prepared. Cue cards had been drawn up just in case she faltered. Their worries were unfounded as she gave more colour, life, and detail than the reporters could have.

Luke and Rhiane did not have the same work duties, but she did not take hers any less seriously. When she was a farm manager she had endeavored to learn anything and everything she could about her neighbors since it had worked her to her advantage more often than not. When she had been abandoned by her fiance the night prior she had refreshed her memory in secret.

They proceeded this way for a few minutes when they came upon a jewelry shop, one that she did not anticipate her paramour being interested in, as it was below his station as was everything else. Since she had already created a gift basket for Callie she thought that responsibility for her present would rest on her shoulders regardless of what he said in the vehicle upon their arrival. As he bent down to inspect a ring she watched closely, surprised, wondering what exactly about the trinket had caught his eye. Her idle curiosity was cast aside when he asked for her opinion and then plucked if off the mannequin, holding out his hand expectantly so he could use her finger for sizing purposes. Rhiane paled slightly. Perhaps he did not see the significance of this event while she could not ignore it. Not so long ago she was discussing the missing engagement ring while enjoying a soak in a hot spring.

"Luke," she whispered quietly in a warning, then sighed and let him take her hand in her own. Their entourage had undoubtedly already seen what he was trying to do. If she kept her hands at her side and refused him then it would create an even bigger, more scandalous scene than if she agreed. "This might draw attention to the wrong thing," she said below her breath so only he could hear.