Hashih

The Betrothed

There was no denying that by the time the pair was done with the appetizer, every person in the restaurant already knew who the two people sitting at the corner were. Professionals having lunch in their business suits, the waiters, and even the cook who prepared their meal tried their best to pretend that there was no important person in the room, but the quick sideways glances, stolen photos, and whispered observations betrayed their otherwise cool demeanor. It was precisely that instance, the feeling of being scrutinized like an exotic animal in a cage, that Luke disliked the most when in a room with commoners, even the schooled ones. It was as if those pairs of eyes were waiting to be graced with a glimpse of imperfection of the otherwise perfect portrait of the crown prince.

He was sure that there were criticisms to be told about the brunch date. Perhaps it would the choice of restaurant, the rather obvious disguise, the food he ordered for the two of them, the way his hair was fashionably mussed, or the expectations of the public that he did not meet. Of all these, the latter was the juiciest and most salable story. He was accustomed to circulating rumors and half-truths about him. It was alright, because he cannot please everybody, but it was his belief that that for every person that criticizes him was a person who praises his deeds. Instead of worrying about the general public’s image of him, Luke was more interested in how that morning’s charade would affect the queen’s opinion towards him.

“But you are no longer poor, Ms. Black,” he said, examining a string of mozzarella as he cut a piece from his slice and pulled it to his face. Technically, her net worth had dramatically increased after she won the contest, and it would further improve after marrying Luke. He wondered if she was already resigned to the fact that poverty was her past and the good graces of the royal family was her future. “You own a royal suite, designer shoes and clothes, an army of maid servants. Your family is well compensated. If you would require your own transport, it will be provided for you. There is no longer a need to work a day in your life.” Except to carry in her womb and deliver into the world Luke’s heir. He pushed the piece of pizza in his mouth and chewed slowly. Her usefulness would end after the birth of New Rome’s little princes and princesses. ’Then you can marry nobility,’ he remembered the queen saying. Just like she did after she killed her first husband, just like every other ruling monarch before her did. It was meant as an encouragement for Luke to go through with the engagement, a prize that the queen was dangling in front of his eyes saying that she would give her blessing to whoever of noble birth he wished to marry. Even Sophia Keller, who was seen by Queen Camilla as a bad influence on Luke could be his second wife when Rhiane was gone.

Rhiane’s fate was sealed when she joined the contest. The whole kingdom was aware of what was at the end of the road looked like for the winner of the title princess elect, yet Rhiane voluntarily entered. If she herself had forfeited her life, then who was he to care? It should be the least of his worries. Besides, he didn’t even like the farmer girl. At the end of the day, what bothered Luke was the fact that he would precisely be like his mother and the murderers of the innocent before her.

“On the contrary,” he continued after swallowing his first bite together with the thoughts of the future, then leaned forward to emphasize his point. “You have everything. And whether I like it or not – we both know my sentiment on this issue – you even have me.” What more could she ask for? He wanted to ask but thought that it sounded like a product advertisement. With a napkin in hand, he reached towards the side of her lips and dabbed away a non-existent stain. “So now you have precious lot to lose, princess.”

The Betrothed

The interior of the restaurant was filled with pizza goodness that tickled his senses and enticed him to order everything on the menu. It must be his stomach doing the thinking, because it didn’t matter that it was not his type of restaurant, he just needed food to be served as soon as possible. The sensation of hunger was not commonly felt by the members of the nobility. Food was plentiful and always available for those who were in position. He can order for whatever he craves, and the royal kitchen will make it for him.

That he was asked to wait in line and now wait for the waiter to take their order was getting to him. Therefore, when a man in white button-up shirt and black pants, wearing an apron around his waist approached, the prince very nearly snapped. He told the waiter his choice of pizza, appetizer, and two glasses of wine then promptly asked how long it would take for their food to be served. “About twenty minutes, your highness,” replied the waiter before he was dismissed.

Twenty minutes was not a long time to wait given the right company. Good thing there was the internet to keep him busy, because his companion, despite her earlier objection against his plan to not to speak to her, was being quiet. Not wanting to waste his time faking smiles and engaging in small talks, he started browsing through that morning’s electronic correspondences about the work he had left behind just to indulge the whims of the queen. One subject that came about was the consolidated monthly report on the status of the agriculture sector. He paused remembering what he was talking to Rhiane about before the hostess came to fetch them.

The prince opened his mouth as if to say something, only to shake his head and looked back down to what he was doing. What was he thinking? To start a conversation would be to admit defeat. He was winning thus far, she was not forcing him to discuss menial matters like the name of the pigs she had at home, or the number of eggs that a chicken can lay in a month. He was at peace, being able to conform to the queen’s order and being compelled to act interested. Although he was interested. He stole a quick glance at his date wondering how she could be nice to strangers and not to her future husband, and more importantly, her future king.

The thought was interrupted when the food arrived. Unlike the restaurants he frequented where the course was served one at a time to maximize the guests’ eating pleasure, everything was served all at once. Caprese, pasta, and pizza, plus the two glasses of wine. Everything came together at the same time and was left on the table for them to enjoy.

Luke served two slices of the tomato and its toppings to Rhiane’s plate without a word, then took two more for himself before retreating to his seat and eating in silence. It was neither bad nor good but was filling, which was what he was looking for that morning. His second serving had less impact than the first, and the third even lesser. He turned his attention to the pizza next and accidentally met her green gaze. “You are being quiet for someone who insists on us talking to make this more believable,” he said, breaking the silence as he served a slice of pizza on her plate. “Was it something I said about GenCo?” He took a slice for his own consumption and used it as distraction as he contemplated whether he would admit to her something that she had no business knowing. “I lost four percent of equity on that trade six months ago when the stock prices sharply declined due to poor performance of the company. Had I known how bad their most-hyped soybeans were, I would have sold everything before the launch of the product, not after. But I’m telling you, the shares are selling at a bargain price right now. It’s tempting, but one never knows how low the prices can go.”

Luke smiled at her, a genuine smile that time, and a playful wink too. It happened before Luke can check himself. Like a comet though, it blinked out of sight only to be replaced by the cool polite smile of somebody who had just remembered who he was talking to. Until that too vanished.

The Betrothed

Decisions. His life was about making decisions – from the selection of which coat to wear (because he refused to be dressed by other people every single day) to the trade agreements with the neighboring nations – there was not a day when he was given a break from the tedious task of charting his fate and the fate of the kingdom he would someday lead. It was the same, he imagined, for everybody else regardless of their birth status. People took options, made their choices, and it was those little nudges that made up a greater wave of change. He then wondered how choosing the pizza would affect the economy.

Luke was leaning at the podium, contemplating between a pizza called “BOMB” and the more conventional Neapolitan when he caught wind of what sounded like the farmer girl’s voice conversing rather intelligently about stock prices. It didn’t surprise him how easy it was for her to open a discussion with strangers, she did win the contest after all. What he did not at all expect was how she could carry herself in an intelligent dialogue with those who earned a university business degree. Without appearing too interested with the discussion, he put the menu down and detached the gadget from his wrist with a gesture on its screen.

He opened a real-time chart of GenCo and was about to do the same for Alpire when the hostess asked whom the reservation should be made for. The prince looked up from his band with every intention to utter a random name when his blue eyes met hers and a look of surprised realization dawned on the woman. She visibly paled and appeared to find difficulty comprehending how the muscles of her jaw worked. “You seem to have found the answer,” he whispered, placing a finger on his lips in a universal gesture of silence. “Approach me when our table is ready. We don’t want to create a commotion by announcing our presence.”

Whether the hostess found her tongue or not was not his concern, therefore Luke did not wait for her to give any sort of response. He just left to find the bench that the farmer girl and her new-found acquaintances were occupying. One of the two men leaned forward and said something in a low tone, which prompted a look of shock on the female’s face, who tentatively glanced his way. Good, their ineffective covers were blown meaning half the mission is done.

He took the vacant spot beside Rhiane careful not to allow her to invade his personal space. “There were no reservations made, so I pulled some strings,” he said without looking at her. His attention was on the stock prices, specifically GenCo, which she claimed was not a viable investment at that moment. While it was true that the stock experienced a steady decline since the release of its annual earnings that stated last year’s income were twenty percent less than the income reported two years ago, while the spending increased by five percent probably driven by the advertising budget to promote the new product, the stock prices had been consolidating at a point of congestion for two weeks. He took it as a sign that the sellers were finally tiring, and the buyers were thinking that the price for the shares were just right. “I am going to make a purchase, Ms. Fundamentalist. Not today, but in a few days.” He gestured with his hand for her to come closer as he showed the chart to Rhiane. He had no idea how much she knew about trading, but he was showing her that the base of the six-month upswing was already reached by the downward trend, and that the twelve-year monthly upward trend was still in effect. “It’s about time they pick the stock prices up but remind me to sell before the launch of the improved breed.”

If the trio was listening, he didn’t care. He spoke in a quiet voice as if he was telling her a secret, but in truth, he did not want to refute her analysis in public. It would be against their mission’s objectives. The debate on who had the better analysis could wait until they were back in the palace. What couldn’t wait, though, was the curious businesswoman who approached them.

“Excuse me, your royal highness” she faltered and bowed awkwardly, unsure of the prince’s response and positively afraid of rejection. The woman held up her phone and gathered the confidence to smile. “May we take a photo with you and Ms. Rhiane Black?” The other two men were not as enthused, though they showed interest in participating, thinking that it would be a good story to tell their friends and family. Those who were close enough to hear couldn’t fight the urge to watch and see for themselves if they indeed heard right.

Luke supposed that phase two of the operation had started. People noticed them according to plan and it was time for him to play his part just for an hour. Just an hour of pretense, of being somebody that he was not, and it should produce results that would appease the queen. Never mind that it was a silly thing to do, it was the price he had to pay for choosing himself over his duties the night before. Pushing back the hood of his jacket, he smiled at the woman as he placed an arm around Rhiane’s shoulders and pulled her to himself. “Sure, but just one photo,” he invited the woman and her two other friends who immediately took the opportunity to be as close as they could get to Rhiane. The businesswoman looked like a teenager who had a once in a lifetime opportunity to meet her popstar idol. Her smile was big as she counted to three before snapping the group photo. Fortunately, it turned out perfect, with all five of them smiling and Luke not showing any resentment.

It was not just the happy businesswoman camera’s that snapped the photo, those who heard her say the title and the name took their own versions of the photo of the prince and his princess dressed as a commoner at a casual dining place. Luke used to dislike the habit of people to take his photo without asking for permission, but after a while he got used to it and learned to accept the fact that it would not go away. As long as they did not go out of their way to bother him, it was fine. But that did not seem like the case that morning. Because of one success story, others were willing to try their lucks as well.

Just then, the hostess approached with the good news that he had been waiting for the whole morning. Luke was relieved for two reasons – lunch and an way out of the curious public’s intent. “Your highness, Ms. Black,” she said softly, following Luke’s instructions, though it was pointless at that time. “Your table is ready, please follow me.”

Luke immediately got to his feet and followed the hostess. Bomb or Napoli, he was thinking, when he remembered that he did not come alone. The prince paused in mid-step, walked backwards to where Rhiane was seated, then wordlessly offered his hand.

Spiritum - Reborn [High Casual]

My kind of story.

The Betrothed

To an uninformed observer, it would seem that a lone Austre hovercraft had left the palace that morning, but it was a well established fact that the crown prince could never leave the palace grounds, whether on personal or official business, without security detail. The reality was that two inconspicuous hovercrafts had left at a set interval before the prince while another two was deployed after he took off. Both air and ground units positioned within the area were also put on alert that morning, with a special advanced party of the royal guards disguised as customers and passers-by organized at and around the restaurant to guarantee the safety of the future king.

Most, if not all, the air and ground activities were received by Luke’s communication band. He had it synced with the satellite communication service of the royal guards and military for two reasons – to make certain that security was deployed where it was needed, and to know how to elude his escorts. Unsurprisingly, with all the activity happening that morning, the black band around his left wrist was constantly projecting live feed detailing the location of the prince, ETA update, and the phrase “sector clear”.

“Freya,” Luke called to nobody in particular. He was driving in silence, with one hand on the stirring wheel and the other cradling his passenger’s cheek since he found out that Ms. Black had fallen asleep.

A beep responded to his call, then a feminine voice said, “Yes, your highness.”

“Turn off all notifications,” he instructed the virtual assistant. The next beep re-activated the gadget’s sleep mode. The presence of towering buildings had significantly diminished by then. In its place were a neat layout of warehouses, giant silos, cranes, low-rise offices, and the distinct structure of the nuclear power plant that was the source of power in the capital. They were not about to go too deep into the industrial zone. The restaurant was at the base of a low-rise office building of the corporate headquarters of a large mining company that was owned by his uncle. He found the parking space behind the building, but would not be able to maneuver the craft with one hand so he withdrew his right hand. It was that instant when he heard her whisper a name.

Edwin, she said. Even as she slept, she was still giving away information he could use against her. Edwin might be her father, brother, or lover. Luke might as well check the role of the person to Rhiane’s life, in case he needed a bargaining chip against her.

Parking a hovercraft was similar to landing a fighter jet, only that it was smaller in size and more sensitive to his prompts. Being a trained pilot, he normally managed a smooth landing, but that morning, as he took the designated spot at an angle from the air, the Austre whined as it hit the concrete and bounced once before settling down. The seat belt tightened on his chest as the momentum tossed him forward. “Oops,” was his sheepish reaction to the unusually rough touchdown. “Did I wake you up, princess?” He turned towards her with humor lighting up his blue eyes. That was for falling asleep while he was talking to her.

Without waiting for her response, he unbuckled her seatbelt and put on his jacket. He pulled the hood over his head, exited the vehicle and jogged to her side to open the door. “Come on, come on, Ms. Black. I’m starving. Had it not for your little mutiny, we should have already finished brunch by now.”

Luke waited for her to move before he led them to an entrance, frequently making sure that she was not lagging behind. They were greeted by an android that was programmed to greet anybody who entered the building as well as count the number of guests each day. A long corridor connected their entry point to the lobby and finally the front entrance. Corporate employees in business attire and young professionals in their smart casual wear loitered in the ground floor, which housed not only The Briks, but also other restaurants. It was the perfect venue for the publicity stunt planned by Queen Camilla.

The pair found the restaurant quite easily, because the name itself was written using black pieces of glass over a red bricked wall, thus the name. Just by looking at the façade, Luke decided that it was a casual dining place. Half the façade was the bricked wall and the name itself, the other half was made of glass panes, from which he could see the inside. The interior of the restaurant was decorated to look like a snapshot of a time before the war that was known as the industrial revolution. One wall, perhaps the accent wall, was made entirely of red bricks, while the rest, including the floor, was polished concrete. Carefully placed black piping gave the venue a more industrial feel, while pendant lights enclosed in copper geometric outline gave the place a cozy glow. He also noticed that the frames of the chairs and tables were made of black metal pipes.

He approached the hostess standing behind a wooden podium with the restaurant’s logo on it and asked to be seated on a table for two. She paused more than twice to study him, either because he looked malicious with the hood over his head and the shadows over his face, or because she already had an idea who it was. “You are fourth in the waiting list, sir. Please make yourselves comfortable for a few minutes. I will call your name when your table is ready.” The hostess gestured to a bench, smiling her most inviting smile. Luke just stared at her, uncomprehending. Not knowing what she did wrong, the hostess’ smile faltered, but was mostly held in place. But maybe she concluded on something, because she handed a menu to Luke. “You may browse our menu and decide on your order while you wait. We specialize in brick oven pizza.”

Apparently, no reservation was made for him. He would have a word with Ms. Viscomi when he got back to the castle, or perhaps while waiting, he could already compose an email. “Ah, miss, I see that you’re a considerate person, and my friends say that I am a good judge of character. Can you not make a special arrangement for me and my lady friend,” He slipped a bill on the podium and smiled for the woman. “You see, she needs to take her medicine on time or her condition may relapse.”

“Sir, I --“ She looked at the bill then back to Luke, perplexed, but eventually gave in. The woman behind the podium covered his hand with hers. “It sounds like an emergency, sir. I will see that the next available seats will be for you two.” she said, then gestured for them to take their seats.

The Betrothed

He was right. Luke was usually right about most things, yet Ms. Rhian Black was anything but most things. Nevertheless, he was right about her intentions. That it was not about her breaking away from the poverty-stricken province she was born in, nor was it about her desire to live amongst the most powerful family in all of Europe or marry the most eligible bachelor in the land. No, none of those. It was all about her family, estranged as they were. Luke saw the dread in her eyes when he openly threatened the family she left behind, and the relief that washed over her face after his confession that he would not take that route. He thought of his sister, his family, the most important person in the world, and the very reason why he had not yet renounced his claim to the throne. He would take up the mantle of power so that she could live her life however she wished, and he would be in the position to protect her. It was their father’s mandate, that Luke should always look after little Cally. And so, in that view, the crown prince and the farmer girl found their common ground – in the people they wished to protect.

Luke was still pondering on the things she said, her declaration of loyalty to him, the confession about how she lied her way to victory, as she passed him by to fetch the pain killer she requested. Beautiful, cunning, manipulative, and a liar, Rhiane would truly fit in her mother’s court. There were just some rules that she needed to remember in order to survive the snakes that flocked the capital, like never admit her faults, bury her weaknesses, and above all, do not trust anybody. He stretched his legs and got to his feet, crossing his arms over his chest, with his jacket slung over one shoulder, as he waited for her.

She talked about the incident with the ambassador, which led them both to where they stood that morning, less than 10 meters apart. It was an interesting theory, though told by a commoner. She could be covering for her ineptness in wearing heels, which she already basically admitted at the waiting room before they entered the ball. “Regardless, I will personally see to it that your stylists will only pick flat shoes for you to wear from now on,” he said before leading her out of the suite. As for Sir Jin, there was hell to pay once proven guilty by Luke. He was authorized to order an air strike and be done with the devious man’s pitiful life, but if the queen would get in his way, the prince was sure that he could find means to open an investigation that would implicate the ambassador to the malicious act against the crown.

Ms. Viscomi was patiently waiting for them outside Rhiane’s door. “Great,” she exclaimed when the couple finally showed their faces. The image manager was a bit worried that either of the two had a change of heart regarding the queen’s request. “Now if you would please follow me, your highness and Ms. Black.” She led them deeper into the building into the space where a number of private hovercrafts were parked, all the while explaining what to expect. “Our staff prepared the Aurst Flux 54 hovercraft for your transport today, your highness. You will find it to be in top condition despite its age. It was selected to help you not stand out too much.”

Hovercrafts were a hybrid between an aircraft and a car. It was faster and had a more efficient engine than cars, but the fastest hovercraft was significantly slower than aircrafts. Its altitude was also limited due to its design. The appointed vehicle was a two-seater craft that was queen’s gift to Luke on his 18th birthday. Its black paint was sleek and shiny as if brand new, but it lacked the latest technologies due to its age. Nevertheless, it would be sufficient to perform its task to carry the couple to the restaurant.

Luke ran his hand along the slick body, feeling the smoothness of the curves of the design and remember the day he learned to fly the thing. With a touch of his thumb at the driver’s door’s latch, the vehicle was unlocked. He knew that it would work that way, but still a silly smile stretched his lips. The prince sat comfortably on the vehicle’s leather seat, feeling nostalgic as he took the wheel. “Get in, Ms. Black,” he invited, forgetting to open the door for her.

Ms. Viscomi bid them goodbye and cheerfully wished them luck as Luke powered the vehicle on and sped through the highway. The inside of the hovercraft was comfortable despite its speed and fast acceleration. Luke hardly felt any hesitation from the eleven-year-old engine. The air conditioning was also well-maintained thanks to the mechanics at the castle. Once safely on the highway, he glanced sideways at his passenger. She was still favoring one foot over the other and her asking for a pain killer meant that the pain bothered her.

“I need to talk to you about what you said back in your room,” he started while the reflection of the restored vehicle glided on the shiny windows of buildings at the business district. “I don’t need your pledge of loyalty,” he paused to think about his next words. “No, I don’t want your loyalty, but I appreciate that you feel that way. Although, if there’s one thing you need to know about me, Ms. Black, it’s that I’m not exactly your friend. In fact, nobody in court is and will ever be your friend. The sooner you grasp that truth, the easier it will be for you. So, next time don’t tell me about the lies you made to win the contest, or the thing you care about the most, because I may use it against you someday.”

They stopped at an intersection when the lights turned red and the opposite lane started to move. “I will break you more than once before this is over. I’m saying this to be fair, to manage your expectations, and because you were too honest with me earlier that I felt obligated to be honest with you as well. If not for the implant, I will not let my mother have her way, but right now we have to keep her happy. When she's happy enough, then maybe I can talk sense to her and have these deactivated
And when that happens, we can finally get back to the agreement we had last night. Just don't --” He stole a glance only to find her head slumping to the side towards his direction. Luke caught himself smiling in amusement. "Don't fall asleep on me while I'm talking to you," he muttered. With one hand controlling the wheel, he used his other hand to gently support his fiancée’s head, righting it so she can comfortably sleep and not complain neck pain when she woke up.

The Betrothed

For a second he thought that she was starting to grasp her standing in the situation they were in, that she was finally acceding to what he wanted, only to have the crack of hope shut down on his face.

Luke stared at the closed door a moment longer. He wanted so badly to open it again just for the satisfaction of slamming it shut. If he could retrieve the score cards of the candidates who joined the competition, he would identify the foolish judges who gave this woman high scores then charge them with treason. It was treason to require the future king to marry such a woman. Slowly, he tore his attention from the smooth and polished surface and faced the bride chosen for him, who he found was sitting comfortably on his chair with one long leg crossed over the other like a queen. And like one, she stepped her foot down to make her intention to not leave the room clear.

To say that he was frustrated was an understatement. Luke had never before encountered a creature as obstinate as this woman who, after judging his character, had the nerve to insult his capacities. If all peasants were like her, then he would not be surprised why they persisted in the dirt where they were born. They knew no authority and would act as they so pleased, even with their limited knowledge. Then when all was said and done, they would blame the noblemen for their poverty. It was the logic of the lazy and the failure, because it was more convenient to pass the blame than to own it.

It took him around five long strides to get from the door to his chair which Rhiane was occupying. He cornered her where she sat with his body crouched over her and his hands on the backrest at either side of her head. His eyes studied her stubborn, yet undeniably beautiful features, letting the silence stretch as they quietly challenged one another.

“You’re a bold one, aren’t you, Ms. Black?” He was talking slow and in a very low tone as if telling her a secret. “I can have the suspected rebels, or those you say with association to the rebellion, in your hometown arrested without solid evidence, outside of due process, and against their rights as citizens of New Rome. All I need to say is that I got the information from the princess elect, who volunteered information to show her support to the crown and identified who in her hometown associates themselves with the rebels.” He smiled a cruel smile. “It won’t be hard to give that order. Imagine what will happen to the family you left behind when the sympathizers learned about your betrayal. Your poor, helpless family, who are probably the reason why you are here now.”

Rhiane was unlike most of the candidates for the title princess elect who openly professed their love for Prince Alessandro. It was obvious by the way she looked at him and how she defied him that her motivation was not the prince’s love and affection, which slightly offended Luke though he would not admit. Therefore, her intent may be to win the rewards that came with being Luke’s wife, for her family and not for herself.

Luke sat on his heels before Rhiane, thinking that he had somehow discovered something about his future bride. He would probably do the same if he were in her situation, for Cally’s sake. “But I will stop myself from executing that tempting idea.” He shrugged. Traces of anger and stiffness left his features and he sighed possibly accepting temporary defeat. “If you will come have brunch with me this morning and tomorrow morning, and also the morning after that, for as long as she wants us to. Because this.” He reached for the back of her neck and gently touched the spot where he thought the tech was implanted. “This has the capacity to make both our lives miserable. You may doubt me in everything else but trust me when it comes to my mother.” His goal was to convince her to preserve the limited freedom that they had. “Regardless of how correct my assessment of the situation, the queen will enforce her will so it is better for us to obey for now. If you so wish, then I will pretend to enjoy talking to you on topics not concerning this engagement, or the uprisings, or the queen.”

The Betrothed

Ms. Viscomi glanced tentatively at Luke who by then had gotten to his feet and was ready to leave the suite. Having heard the princess elect’s request though, he shrugged and watched Rhiane herd the maid servants and Ms. Viscomi out of her rooms. Herding, he thought with an amused brow, a necessary skill for a farmer.

Luke sat back on his wingback chair and gestured for her to take a seat as well after noticing the slight limp, but Rhiane came down on him with a tirade of words that would rival his mother’s. In a few seconds, the princess elect managed to accuse the crown prince, a person who she just met, of being judgmental and apathetic. Luke was very much tempted to walk out of the room and damn the consequences, not because he was angered by the accusations, but because she was imposing her will onto his. It was usually the other way around. He was the crown prince, the future king, and he always get things done his way (except when his mother uses her authority over him).

Mustering all the patience in his blood, Luke unclenched his jaw, sighed and looked her directly in the eyes. “Take a seat before you hurt yourself again,” he said in a sarcastic tone. “I wonder what made you think that you know so much about me enough to conclude how I see the common people. No, I don’t agree that common people are stupid. Delusional, easily manipulated, and ungrateful maybe, but not at all stupid. The people who will believe this farce are stupid.”

It was a common misconception that the royal family lived a life of luxury using their subject’s hard-earned money, while they themselves did not work a day in their lives. On the contrary, he and other crown prince and princesses before him were raised to strict protocols and rigorous education to ensure that the future leader of the country would be fit for the role. He was exposed to the duties of a monarch at the age 18, when the queen started involving him in state affairs. At present, he was involved in defense and foreign policy, among other things. Did the common people think the kingdom thrives on its own? “I know what the protesters are saying and the cause that the rebellion is fighting for. Do you know how, Ms. Black?” He paused gauging the look on her face. “It’s because I am the crown prince. No information is hidden from me, because it’s my duty to know. So stop lecturing me about my kingdom.”

Arranged marriage and fake romance would not fix the problems of the kingdom. It may derail the momentum of the rebellion, but it would not be enough to stop its popularity. After a few months or years Ms. Black would be identified as a part of the nobility no matter her roots. She would be part of the upper class, the tyrant, those who people call cancer to the society. Their fairy tale love story would no longer matter once the common people woke up from the euphoria following the rags to riches tale of Ms. Black and realized that they were as poor and helpless as when Ms. Black was just a farmer. It was among the reasons he was opposed to the marriage and the tradition of the royal family.

“But if you insist on the topics we should not bring up, for me it will be the subject about Ms. Rhiane Black, my betrothed,” he snapped. Luke was trying to be polite by not voicing his thoughts out loud, but she demanded, and he obliged. More and more the idea of a date was feeling like a bad idea. He was such in a bad mood that morning after the brief meeting with his mother, the link that now bound him to Rhiane, and the distinct possibility that his relationship with the actress Sophia Keller would be on the line. The princess elect, on the other hand, was not so happy with him as well. She was not like the other contestants who were fawning over him.

Luke traced a pattern on the screen of his communication band, which turned the surface back to sleep mode, then snapped it on his wrist. He rose to his full height and slung the jacked over his shoulder. Despite of everything he thought or said, the crown prince was positive that he did not want to further limit his freedom to 5 meters. Therefore, he was firm in his decision to take Rhiane out to brunch and start faking their relationship form there until the time the queen was satisfied with the result. He turned his back on her and headed for the door. Looking over his shoulder as he cracked the door open, he said, “If you have nothing more to say, let’s be on our way.”

Blades of the Shogun - The Island of Screams

Aki

It was indeed somebody important – the guest that the whole household was preparing for. Aki had her hunches, but she was surprised to learn that the master of the manor was expecting none other than Shogun Mitsuhide himself. She discovered that truth when she was asked to bring refreshments for the men who arrived at midnight the night before. The surprise was quickly replaced by apprehension though. What would the shogun want from her?

The ninja also learned from snooping around that the shogun sent several invitations, possibly to notable warriors and spies. It was a risk for her. She considered the option to walk away with the block of gold, which was enough to finance her journey back to the Kawaka Mountains as well as purchase several bottles of her sensei’s favorite sake. The risk was that her face would be known to strangers who she would most likely meet in the manor. One or more of the strangers, whose names kept eluding her, might be a friend or a relative of somebody she assassinated in the past, or an old enemy, or part of a recent mission. Anything could happen. What was not sitting too well with her was the fact that she would have no control over the outcome.

Nevertheless, it was a summon from the shogun, an opportunity that not a lot of ninjas receive. It could be the same as when she used to work for the last Blade Emperor. Donning a red kimono over her kusarikage, she snuck out of the manor in the early hours of the new day just before sunrise. If she could, she would advise the shogun to have a word with his security staff, because it was not good that she infiltrated the manor so easily. Aki also decided not to wear her shinobi mask as it would be too conspicuous walking the street of Odikawa in a mask, plus it was the quickest giveaway as to who she was.

As the sun peeked at the horizon, she returned to the manor by the docks with a silver crescent moon. The smell of the sea filled the air as a gentle breeze blew wisps of her ponytail to her face and lightly caressed the hem of her kimono. That morning, she found herself in front of the double doors instead of sneaking at the back. One of the samurais guarding the entrance stared at her curiously, contemplating perhaps what a woman would want to have to do with him, but no question was raised when she produced the document.

The second set of guards asked her to deposit her weapons, which she did without question. She understood the strict measure being implemented, because of the person who would be sitting in the same room as her that day. It took her a while to take off her enchanted equipment, because the guards objected heavily when she started stripping down her kimono. She was instead ushered to an ante room where she was able to remove the enchanted light chainmail she wore under her kimono. When she handed the equipment to the bashful samurais, she couldn’t help but notice a blush creeping into the otherwise stoic features of the guards.

When she was cleared to enter the manor, she was welcomed by a servant whose name she learned was Umeji Tatsumi. The old woman’s eyes widened as she greeted Aki, who she knew only as the new maid servant. Aki smiled and raised a finger to her lips, a gesture for Tatsumi not to say a word. Although surely some of the maid servants would recognize her.

Tatsumi led the ninja to a spacious living chamber. She was the first to arrive.

The Betrothed

“You assume so easily that a conversation between a farmer and a prince is likely to happen.” He watched her from the corner of his eyes, not quite turning his face to look at her, as if she was not worthy of his full attention. “Is there even a subject that you and I both find interest in?” It was the undeniable truth that there existed a vast gap between Luke and Rhiane. It occurred not because of their prejudices, but because of the difference in their standing in society. Luke’s knowledge of agriculture was limited to which crop grew on which region and how much it contributed to the kingdom’s domestic produce. He doubted that Rhiane had any interest in state affairs, pre-war technology, aircrafts, or supermodels. Especially not the latter, though she might as well be one. Therefore, what was there to talk about? Besides, Ms. Black represented the very subject that he would rather not discuss.

The servant ushered the pair inside the princess elect’s suite, where they would find a team of five other maid servants and a stylist forming a perfectly straight line while waiting for them. All of which shared the same surprised expression when the crown prince stepped in the room. It took them two full seconds to recover before bowing and greeting their future king properly. It amazed him why the ladies would need that much manpower to help them dress. His sister Cally also had her own private army of maid servants and stylists. He imagined his mother had more.

Luke didn’t as much as acknowledge the servants, but instead went on ahead and claimed a wingback chair in the living area of Rhian’s one-bedroom suite. “Your highness,” the stylist stuttered while the prince detached the communication band from his wrist. It was made of flexible black glass and was about 2.5 inches wide. He rolled it out and traced a pattern on the surface, which immediately turned the surface into a screen. “I apologize, but you are not supposed to be here. Your change of clothes is in your room.”

The prince waved his hand in dismissal. He was distracting himself from the situation by looking up the menu at The Briks. If only the servant knew how much he wanted to be on his own suite, but of course the queen would have wanted the information about the link to be strictly confidential. He wondered if either the prince consort or his sister knew about it. “Have it brought here,” he ordered, not lifting his eyes from the screen. The dull ache on his cheek reminded him of his mother and the power she had over him.

He let himself be absorbed by the information that was overflowing from the internet and try to not watch the maids dress up Rhiane. The brunch was the first chapter of of the damage control being orchestrated by the queen, where he was supposed to act as if he was interested in the farmer girl. Although he openly disagreed with the methods of his mother, he understood the necessity of establishing somebody from the lowest strata of the society to be part of the ruling class. He also understood how angry his mother would be if he messed up the second chance he was giving them.

It shouldn’t be that hard to fake interest if he were either Philip or Nico, who loved to prank their peers by pretending to be the other twin. Even his cousin Marcel would do just fine. But Luke would not be Luke if he was not being honest with himself. The answer he gave Rhiane was not meant to belittle her, it was just how he felt about their situation. Relationships were supposed to start with a common ground, but the crown prince and the former farmer were standing on different grounds.

He lost count of the minutes until somebody knocked on the door and brought in his change of clothes and a serum that he can apply on the cut and bruise on his cheek. Apparently, his designer clothes would be an easy give away. The servant presented him with a plain white shirt, black hooded jacket, army green utility pants, and combat boots. The Brik was a popular restaurant in a busy industrial neighborhood frequented by the middle class. He would not normally pick that restaurant for a date, but he wouldn’t want his 10-meter leash to turn to 5 meters. And of course there was Sophia who was made vulnerable because of her association with him.

Without getting up on his feet, Luke took off his coat and fitted shirt, not minding the other people in the room. He slipped the soft white shirt over his head then kicked off his shoes. Barefooted, he walked up to Rhiane. “I’ll use your bathroom,” he informed her before he did so to change into the cargo pants and also fix his cheek. The shoes and clothes he changed from was picked-up and tidied by one of the servants so that when he came out of the bathroom in the army green pants and white shirt that accentuated the fruits of his combat training, he only needed to worry about wearing the boots.

Just as he was tucking the pants into his boots, somebody knocked on the door. A servant opened it to a woman in her thirties wearing a gray dress with pencil cut skirt that reached just below her knees. Cradled into her chest was what looked like a folder. She stepped with confidence into the room and regarded both the prince and princess elect with visible enthusiasm.

“Good morning your highness, Ms. Black,” she greeted brightly. “I am Luce Viscomi, your appointed image manager. I am in charge of your highness’ schedule for the day. I see that you have both dressed for your brunch date at The Briks.” Luce checked the screen of the folder-thin computer.

His brow raised in amusement at the mention of having an appointed image manager. His mother was pretty serious about making the public believe the fairy tale love story between a peasant and a prince.

“You have brunch scheduled this morning, your highness. As for Ms. Black, you will need to be back in the castle by five in the afternoon for an exclusive interview that will be aired nationwide.” She turned off the screen. “In between the brunch and your interview will be free time. Your highness, our staff prepared one of your older hovercrafts for use. Let me know when you are both ready to leave.”