Hashih

The Betrothed

Luke was surprised to feel the coldness of her palm against the warmth of his skin. She was out in the rain longer than him because of the innate obstinacy that made it difficult for her to believe that he was not blaming her for what happened. The breaks were off, the airbags failed to deploy themselves, all the other mandatory safety features of a vehicle were absent. If it was not a sabotage, then he did not know what it was.

Not long ago, Luke and his team discovered a plot that aimed to use Rhiane Black against the crown not as the rebellion’s spy, but as its martyr. The poisoning was one such attempt at taking her life, that incident with the faulty vehicle could be another. Unfortunately, the special task force commissioned to perform the investigation was no closer to solving it than the day they started. Perhaps the rebellion had become more careful since that day at Evolab. For Luke, the threat was still very real and although he was certain that his mother would find a new princess elect for him to wed, he was not about to let his enemies win. He was going to keep Rhiane alive.

“I’m driving the SUV. How is this your fault?” The prince would have snapped back at her apology had he not been in the middle of – as Sophia would call it – being in character. He had to deceive her if only to make her stay by his side. The two of them were unarmed and injured. It was not safe for her to venture out into the woods on her own, nor was he comfortable to allow her to sit alone at the front of the vehicle where snipers could easily isolate her as target. The backseat was less exposed both to any outside observer and the rain. He was not sure how he could be able to protect her with the present status of his health, but perhaps because of his damnable pride, he would do whatever it was that his injured self could.

Although any movement did hurt, it was not as bad as he was letting her believe. The damage might just be a hairline fracture on one or more bones, nothing as serious as a punctured blood vessel or a lung. He would recover just fine and would be able to continue to fulfill his day-to-day responsibilities. They just had to get out of the predicament that trapped the two of them inside the SUV in the middle of the woods during a thunderstorm. There was a way to send a distress signal even if his communication band had shut down. He was initially against using it as it would alert even the palace, but it didn't look as if there was another way. Perhaps when he was done executing his plan, he would call for help.

It was only when she offered the pill that he slowly opened his eyes. The sound of raindrops drumming against the vehicle gave him an idea how angry the heavens was, but seeing the seemingly gray wall of unrelenting rainfall was both comforting and disheartening. Comforting because no assassin would be scouting to finish the job at that rate; disheartening because any hope for rescue was most likely not going to happen within the hour. And finally, he had firmly made a decision that Rhiane was not going to venture on her own.

“Thank you.” He picked the oval white pill from the palm of her hand. There were two types of pills inside the emergency kit. Earlier, he took one of each – a small round pill and a slightly larger oval. One was a painkiller while the other was a sedative-painkiller combo. Rhiane gave him the latter. That she wanted him to fall asleep told him that she had not yet given up on her plan to ask for help while the storm was raging outside.

Without giving a hint that he suspected her trickery, he popped the pill into his mouth, but really he carefully bit it just to hold the medication in place. Surprise was his friend. Luke took a deep breath as his left arm went around her, carefully tucking her broken arm between his body and hers, while his hand found her back. He supported her as he twisted his body so that his weight forced her to her back and his uninjured knee and left arm were propped against the seat bearing most of his weight. The moment her lips slightly parted in surprise was his only chance. He sought those soft feminine lips. Then let go of the pill, deepening the kiss with slightly increased pressure but not an ounce of urgency. “Swallow it,” were the words he whispered against her lips after the act had left him breathless. He pushed himself away from her face enough to look her in the eyes. His wavy brown hair was slightly damp over his forehead. Its shade accentuated the brightness of the blue in his eyes made slightly dim by the widening of his pupils. “I won’t stop unless you swallow the pill.” As if to show her how serious he was, Luke leaned in again to kiss her tenderly that time. He tested her reaction to his advances. Was she blushing? Would she push him away? Would she finally kiss him back? Damn the pain screaming form his ribs. He would just take the painkiller he tucked in his breast pocket once he was done.

At one point he wondered if he was doing it out of his sense of duty to keep her safe or if he secretly enjoyed those rare moments with her.

The Betrothed

Luke was amazed at how well his impromptu production turned out to be. That it melted Rhiane’s resolve to either trek back up to the highway or leave the backseat for Luke to occupy alone, said multitudes about his hidden acting skills. Although he rather not count it as acting, because more than half of it was real. The mid part of his ribcage would shoot a sharp pain whenever he breathed deeply, twisted his torso, or made large movements using his arms. Maneuvering his body out of the SUV and struggling to get back in strained the damaged bones as well as the muscles surrounding it. All he did was exaggerate it a little for her. Yet he acknowledged that the ruse worked not only because of his surprisingly convincing act, but also because of the soft-hearted woman whose hand lingered not a centimeter from his skin.

What the maidservants and the crew said about Rhiane was true, that she was a person overflowing with kindness, that she would not leave a person who was in need to fight his battles alone. When he learned how she had invited her maidservants to have lunch with her in Luke’s residence, the prince was peeved. The maidservants were not meant to share the same table with a member of the noble houses. They were the privileged few lowborn people who had passed a strict screening process which qualified them for a job in the palace. Regardless, he thought it was absurd that she would eat with those people. Just as it was absurd to try and look after him when her condition was as bad as his. That morning, he was the benefactor of Rhiane’s gentle heart, he appreciated that she chose to stay. Not many would do the same, and most would perhaps find their own comfort before considering to help the one in need.

Therefore, Luke remained still as her knuckle accidentally grazed the skin of his abdomen while she carefully lifted his shirt to inspect the damage. Not a single word left his lips even as thr chilly air assaulted his skin. Rhiane would have noted that his breathing was shallow. The discoloration of his skin at the left side of his body was due to multiple bruises sustained not an hour ago, but there was no open cut or lesion of any kind. The bruises, though, stood out against the smooth fair skin of the royal. A concealer could hide the bruises, but it would not take the pain away.

If she would try to touch the area though, he would bite back the wince or cry of pain, but he could not hide the agony from his fiancee. “Painkiller, please,” was his strained utterance. She could find the pills inside the emergency kit, although there was also a two-in-one pill which combined a sedative and a painkiller. He hoped that she would retrieve that one, because while he was exaggerating the experience, it really was painful and difficult to move around and breathe.

He kept his eyes shut and his arms limp at his side. Although, ever so often he would crack an eye to see what she was doing or if she had not yet ran away. Fortunately, she had not. As for Luke, he did not plan to move a muscle on his body for these transactions. It was part of his plan for her. So, he waited.

The Betrothed

The crown prince that the kingdom learned to both love and hate was not usually described as a kind man. He was a very passionate debater, an intelligent speaker, a shrewd businessman, a dedicated soldier, and a certified player. Those who had the pleasure of working with him would have described him as a stubborn opinionated elitist. But very few would actually say that he was a nice man. Luke could attest to that, because in truth, it was very tiring to be nice to people. It was very tiring to be nice to a person who seemed to challenge his resolve by displaying, either purposefully or naturally, the trait that he so despised in a person.

His brows furrowed into a frown and he was about to ask her whether she would feel better if he treated her like the peasant that she was instead of trying to take her as his equal when she leaned away from him and forced the door open. Raindrops spattered all around the mountain, sparing not the wrecked SUV. It tapped on the remains of the broken windshield and trespassed the vehicle through the gaps. He watched her pull herself out then opened the backdoor for him. Like one of his servants, he thought.

Shaking his head, he started the painful maneuver from the passenger seat to the next. She might notice that his left hand cradled his midsection while he labored to move from one seat to the other. Much as he would have wanted to hurry into the backseat and save her from being drenched by standing in the open, the prince paused for a second at the driver’s seat to catch his breath and pull the latch underneath the passenger’s seat so that it was as close to the dashboard as possible.

By the time he had made it outside, the droplets that drummed his shoulders were more pronounced. He used the body of the vehicle as his crutch and limped his way to the backseat. Good thing it had leather covers, else the two of them would be miserably wet and cold. But as he allowed himself to crash inside, Luke clutched the side of his shirt where he feared might have sustained fractured bones. He struggled with gravity as he grunted and pulled himself into a sitting position behind the seat that he previously occupied, his legs stretched out as far as it could. It was so Rhiane could join him if she so decided. However, it was not as if he was about to give her a choice.

Luke leaned his head against the slivered glass pane with his eyes tightly shut and his jaw clenched. He angled his body so that he was partially facing her. His right hand clutched his side as his chest rose and fell in quick but shallow breaths. “I -- can’t breathe.” Changing the angle, the prince allowed his back to fall flat against the backrest. He was not asking for help, but was offering the opportunity for her to do an act of kindness.

Acting was not so difficult when half the work had been completed for him by the very unfortunate circumstance that they were in. It was true that his side hurt, and it was true that the injury had made it difficult to laugh or take a deep breath. All he needed to do was add a little more emotion, just a few more creases in between his brows and strain in his voice. It was true that he had no talent in acting, but some things came naturally when the need arise. He could not count on her to stay inside the vehicle and wait for rescue. When she got tired of waiting, she might insist on braving the thunderstorm, forcing her legs to carry her as far as the implants would allow, and hoping that she would reach the road and that somebody would pass by to help them. Unfortunately for her, Luke would not allow it.

It was for his own good, he thought, that she should stay near and not do more harm to herself. Because if she did get hurt while outside, then he would be forced to look for her while he was struggling with pain himself.

The Betrothed

“Liar,” he scowled, but without real conviction. “It’s more than just a little tender and you’re certainly not fine.” It must have hurt when she yanked the arm away, because her face failed to hide how it really felt. The bruises that discolored her skin which otherwise resembled that of a smooth caramel could not be fine. It could be a sign that she had fractured a bone or worse. But her attitude was not something that surprised him. In fact, he kind of expected her to belittle the severity of her condition and brush off all of his concerns.

The box of first aid supplies sat alone on the console. There should be a sling or something he could use as a splint. It was difficult to tell without an x-ray reading which part was fractured, but it also was also not helpful to leave it alone. “I don’t want to be king. The Air Force is just fine and the rules are tolerable. Besides, there’s a vast difference in flying just an aircraft compared to flying a fighter jet.” He avoided her gaze and instead took the emergency kit and placed it on his lap. In addition to the antiseptic spray and bandages, there were painkillers and a drug that he identified as a sedative. He took one of each and placed it in his chest pocket. A neatly folded piece of cloth at the bottom of the box was perhaps the sling he was looking for.

Up above them and beyond the canopy of leaves, lightning streaked the sky followed by the rumbling roar of thunder. Luke followed her gaze out the window. The woods had dimmed significantly, and the crisp autumn air had somehow shifted. Nature and its nuances were not his cup of tea, but he had experienced enough thunderstorm in his life to sense that there was something different in the air when the sky was about to pour its wrath onto the earth. He opened his mouth to explain what he had planned to do with her arm, but she beat him into speaking first.

Luke frowned at her bold declaration. A simple and direct ‘NO’ lingered at the tip of his tongue, ready to fire away, but then he was reminded of how she reacted to such a word – how defiant she would most likely be if he said the word out loud and then summarize the reasons why she should not embark on a trekking trip at the side of a mountain on a day when it appeared as if a thunderstorm would ensue. He let his hand find hers, stopping her before she found the latch on the door. “It’s about to rain.” Or maybe it already was raining. “And you’re hurt. You’re not supposed to move that arm, but it can’t be helped once you try to climb the slope. The soil is damp, slippery, even muddy.” She would need both her hands to navigate the woods and find the road, something that she was not capable of that afternoon. It was not that he worried that she would hurt herself further, it was that he did not want to be looking for her out in the rain if she went missing.

He raised his left hand, the same that was holding her good hand. His communication band peeked from the cuffs of his sleeve. “Freya,” he called out. Waited. But there was no response, except for a droplet that hit his cheek. Luke let go of his fiancee’s hand then shook his wrist. Sometimes the AI did experience lag in between commands. So, he repeated the name, but again he was answered by silence. Frowning, the prince pushed the sleeve of his left arm up to his elbow and inspected the device. Sometime ago, he had reminded himself that he needed to charge the thing, but then he got busy and Sophia dropped by, so he basically forgot. Even the back-up supply was already used up.

“Rescue is on its way,” Luke lied confidently. “No need to wave for help.” As if on cue, raindrops shot through the canopy above like thousands of tiny missiles assaulting the SUV. Fortunately for them, the roof of the vehicle was intact, however the windshield was not. Splatters from the outside and the rain from above trespassed the passenger’s and driver’s seat. At the rate that rain was falling, they would both be drenched in no time. The backseat was intact though, and the door beside Rhiane seemed to work fine unlike the passenger door which was sealed shut by a dead tree trunk. Although even without it, Luke doubted if it could still be opened after the battering it received. They could both exit through the driver’s door or crawl from the center console. Both options were challenging for him, but he thought it might be easier if they exit through the door.

“Let’s move to the back. It should be more comfortable back there. Then please let me do something about that arm. Nothing invasive.” He held up the piece of cloth and bandages. “Just something to help you keep it still.”

The Betrothed

“I can manage.” He fought for the control of the medical equipment, because he really could manage to fix himself. A mandatory training at the Royal Airforce included emergency response and more importantly, first aid. It was a course where recruits as well as commanding officers were taught about the emergency kit, its contents, and how to use each. Every year was the same, except for the section that discussed the latest development in the medical field. As such, he believed himself capable with what to do and how best to treat the laceration. The problem was that he was putting pressure on the injury using his right hand, while struggling with unboxing the syringe using his left hand. “Fine,” the prince grumbled under his breath.

As she strained her body to reach her target from the driver’s seat, Luke wished that he was ambidextrous. If he was, he would not have allowed her to administer the treatment that he knew he could do by himself. Out of pride, perhaps and not out of pity. Or the other way around. Because while Rhiane earned no laceration or deep cuts from the accident, it was apparent that she was hurting. A person who was just fine would not find it difficult to crouch, lean, o sit on the console to reach the bleeding mess that was his thigh. That Rhiane had shown struggle and unnatural motion as she carefully looked for the best position told him that she was in more pain than she let out.

He listened to her instructions and followed her lead. Afterwards, he watched her act on instinct without fear or hesitation. The precision which she applied the solution was commendable. She might be a farmer, but she had the steadiness of a surgeon. If she wanted, perhaps she could follow that career and he would support her if only to make herself busy after the buzz about the coming royal wedding was over.

The lips that always had a spiteful comment ready was at a loss for words. He knew that he could have done it himself and that he didn’t need her, but as he felt Rhiane’s gentle touch as she was applying the topical anesthetic, there was a weird and unwelcome feeling about something he could not tell. Maybe it was because even though he had everything he could ever need in life, Luke was so used to being on his own, in not depending on anybody, or not trusting even his bodyguards. Then there was this nameless farmer girl who refused the riches he offered but argued freely with him rather than concur that his ideas are brilliant. A girl who had stared death in the face only to rise-up and eat the unhealthiest heap of sugary treats he had ever seen all his life. A peasant who had nothing to gain from enduring her own discomfort and pain if only to make sure that his injuries were given first aid.

Luke was smiling unknowingly when she told him that the cut on his forehead should be treated the same way. With a nod, he leaned back and closed his eyes, listening to her voice as she narrated the bittersweet reality of her life. “Why did you stop?” He could not understand. The Ministry of Higher Education was established to uphold the rights of the citizens to free education. As such, people of Rhiane’s economic standing should have gotten to a university for free. “Why was it not possible for you to be an accountant or a lawyer or a doctor or an engineer? Did you even take the exam? Year on year, the royal treasury allocates a budget for free education, especially to those who are deserving.” He cracked an eye open. “You are an intelligent woman who could have been a good lawyer, because your arguments know no end.”

But then if she was a lawyer, would the queen choose her as his betrothed? Would she be leaning her face so close to his own, dabbing fresh bandage around the cut on his forehead, careful not to allow infection to worsen it? Perhaps if she had been a lawyer then she would have seen him in a different light, argued against ideas on an intellectual level if only to satiate her thirst for a good debate, and neither jumped off a cliff nor drove like the devil.

Luke pulled himself up so she was forced to retreat to the driver’s seat with the bloodied gauze on one hand. He plucked what looked like an adhesive strip bandage to him then peeled the adhesive off the paper. “What is likable about this Luke?” he asked as he carefully twisted the remains of the rearview mirror so that he could see part of his face. Brushing back brown hair from his forehead, he applied the adhesive bandage on the cut. “If I was not born a prince, then I would still join the military. I once dreamt of being an air force pilot because I wanted to fly and see the world. The palace had very strict rules and I was not allowed to see the city outside its walls whenever I wanted to. There had to be an occasion, a reason to leave the palace, but whenever I was allowed outside there was under the condition that I had to follow the rules.”

It was his turn to play the doctor. Luke reached for the arm that hang limp from her shoulder. “Come closer,” he commanded, because it hurt to twist his body further, but he needed to see if there was any bluish discoloration on her skin that might indicate a broken bone or an odd angle that shouldn’t have been there. He started to carefully roll up her sleeve. “My father told me that I could be a pilot,” the prince continued in an attempt to distract the woman. “That I could be anything I put his mind into, because I am special. But as I grew up, as I understood my place in this world, I realized that my dream of living a normal life of a free man outside the palace will not happen. I am my mother’s son.” He looked at her in the eye. The words that followed need not be told. She was smart enough to understand what he was arriving at, that he was nothing if he was not the crown prince.

An awkward pause followed as they stared at each other, trying to read each other’s mind. They were worlds apart – him and her. She worked the land while he ruled it. There should have been oceans of differences between them, but when one looked closer, Luke and Rhiane were more alike than they would admit.

“Does it hurt if I --” he carefully raised her arm a little, breaking the silence. Then he touched her shoulder, feeling the bones for any abnormality.

The Betrothed

Nolan had been squinting his eyes on the winding road ahead of them, raising his mobile device and using its camera to zoom into the distant road hoping to find a moving vehicle much like the one they were on but to no avail. The speed of the vehicle they were on and the bumpy terrain made it difficult to positively distinguish the image taken. He grabbed at the overhead handrail to steady himself even though he was already strapped to the seat. Tobias, the designated driver, did his best to catch up with vehicle 014, which the prince and princess elect had taken to themselves. But again, it was to no avail.

“Nolan shouldn’t have given him the keys, right Tobias?” The voice of a second passenger spoke from the back seat, echoing the sentiment of Nolan’s conscience.

It was common knowledge among his personal guards that the crown prince loved speed, therefore Nolan was not surprised when the former asked to be given the keys and drive the SUV on his own. The idea sounded harmless when Luke proposed it, but when the SUV roared into life and sped past the other vehicles, he very much regretted indulging the prince. Especially after it seemed to disappear from their view entirely. Tobias was a good driver, but the prince could be reckless, and in his recklessness could have accelerated to a speed that neither of the three gentlemen would consider as safe.

“It’s his royal highness we are talking about, Gino. I dare you to say no to him.” Nolan countered.

Gino shrugged and lounged back where he sat. He checked the device on his wrist, similar to what Luke had always worn. “No, thank you. That royal pain in the ass – I’d rather not.” The two of them chuckled, probably reminiscing a moment in time when they had said no to the crown prince and never heard the end of it. Luke was headstrong and the problem with him was that he always had something to say when the odds was against him. If negotiations failed though, there was always the trick of pulling ranks over them. “No distress signal received. Stop worrying so much.” Gino added, a knowing grin stretching his thin lips. “He might just be taking his time with his future wife. You know, take a short detour and then --” Gino made noises like the sound of kissing, wrapping his arms around himself then making more noises. It made Nolan grunt in distaste, but a sharp curve came about and Tobias neglected the breaks. He kept his foot on the gas and navigated the curve, expertly throwing his passengers off-guard.

---

It strengthened Luke’s suspicion that there was a malicious act done to the vehicle that was assigned to him. If the brakes were working fine, then the case might be pointing at the manufacturer’s negligence. That the brakes failed to stop the SUV opened the possibility that it was intended to harm its intended passengers, namely himself and Rhiane. Whoever was the target, it damn nearly succeeded.

“There was a time in history when the kings and queens, emperors and empresses, were believed to be divine beings. Someone who were either descendants of gods or appointed by a god to oversee the land. But I am just as human as you are. I get hurt, I bleed, I die.” Although a bit surprised by her touch and the mascara that had bled into her cheeks, he had stilled himself as she proceeded to dab his face with a bandage and watched as she discarded the bloodied piece of fabric. Tentatively, he touched the side of his face and then his brow right where it hurt. The pad of his finger was wet with his blood when he pulled it away from the cut. A laceration could explain why he was feeling dazed and on the edge of unconsciousness earlier, although it was a good thing that it didn’t feel as if it was something more serious than a simple cut.

When she mentioned about his pant leg and started sanitizing her hands using the antiseptic spray, Luke stared back at her defiantly. She was looking at her hands, one of which was evidently having difficulty in moving. He would move to help her fix the injury on his thigh or raise his concern about his left arm, but her innocent musing stopped him. “They never stopped from wanting to kill me. Being the son of my mother comes with a price,” he admitted aloud for the first time, but neglected to state his hunch that he was just the cherry on top that time and that the target might not be him. There was no point in alarming her especially when she had just calmed down. He would tell her and advise her to be more careful sometime in the future, but that moment was not the right time.

Luke slowly bent over, reaching for a latch under the seat. When he found it, he used his other leg to push the passenger seat back so he can stretch his injured leg. The leg room was not enough as he was a tall gentleman, but it helped. “The public doesn’t know much about my personal life and how many times I survived incidents much like this one, because we choose not to broadcast it. Vulnerability is seen as a weakness and a weak ruler is not fit to sit on the throne.” Such was a harsh truth that Rhiane needed to learn. The rebellion, the ambitious noblemen, the foreign powers – all these had at one time dreamed of ending the dynasty by cutting off the succession and bringing forward a new leader that would bend to their will. The queen and his heir would not have it. If not for the dynasty, then for Callista, who would surely not be left alive should the malicious plot succeed.

“If anybody asks, I am driving this SUV and not you, okay? We’ll have to switch places later before the rescue arrives.” The queen would not take lightly the fact that the farmer, regardless of her elevated status, had endangered her son’s life. Rhiane was correct in assuming that she had an expiration date, but such was not dependent on how soon she could produce an heir for Luke, but by how pleased the queen was with her. Therefore, Luke would be determined to take the blame. He was already perceived as a reckless son by his mother anyway.

Without waiting for her to respond, he used both hands to rip the material of his pants apart, enough to expose the laceration and the sharp object still embedded on his flesh. Then, gritting his teeth because it was even more painful to take a deep breath, he wrenched the glass free leaving a two-inch open cut. The depth of the injury was significant enough to inspire blood to pool to the surface. Beads of sweat formed at his brow despite the chill. “Cally is nauseated by the sight and scent of blood. It’s what stopped her from pursuing a career in medicine,” Luke commented as if to distract himself from the sudden bout of dizziness. He borrowed the spray from her and used it on and around the laceration. It was not enough to clear the area of his blood that kept welling out to the surface. “What about you? What was it that you wanted to be when you grew up?” He pulled a bandage from the emergency kit and applied pressure on the cut. With his other hand, he unboxed what looked like a syringe without its needle. It was what he told her to use instead of trying to stitch his skin shut. However, if she’d pick up the needle, injured and all, Luke would most likely want to flee the vehicle.

The Betrothed

He was bleeding? Luke felt himself frown at her statement and was inclined to question why the farmer was looking at him the way she did if she only stopped a while to listen. Instead, she had tried to crawl into the space between their seats to fetch an emergency kit and returned with a white box from which she picked a white cylindrical bottle. He let her do as she please although he wanted her to know that he was fine. She might not be, though, because Rhiane looked sick and confused. Her right hand trembled while her left arm was a deadweight hanging from her shoulder. If there was anybody who needed patching up, it was his fiancee and not himself. Then again, the woman did not have any regard for her physical well-being, always putting him and other people’s interest before herself. He wondered if she even noticed that her arm was not working properly. Some days ago, he watched her on the brink of death because of poison then eat a mountain of desserts after just a few hours. Perhaps she would just laugh at him if he pointed out that she was the one who needed medical attention, it was just a broken arm and some bruises after all.

But then, the prince followed her gaze only to discover that she was correct. He was indeed bleeding. A wicked looking shard of glass impaled itself into the flesh of his thigh. For the first time, the warm and wet feeling dribbling down his leg made sense. “It’s fine.” He touched the torn fabric of his pants and his finger came back damp with his blood.

The heir’s lifestyle, his restrictions, and his strict security detail had something to do with several attempted assassinations. Although none had succeeded so far, there were a few that almost did. To say that he was used to it was a lie. He would never get used to the pain, to the sight of torn flesh and muscle, and to the experience of being mortally wounded. But it was not something he boasted about, nor did he feel the need for it to be known by the general public, because every time an attempt was done to take his life, a portion of his freedom was taken away by the queen.

The sound of her broken apology that pulled the crown prince away from his thoughts. Instinctively, or maybe because of curiosity, he sought her face. Luke could have thought of a hundred different ways to tell Rhiane off for her lack of regard for her own safety and how it affected the people around her if it was not for the look on her face. Besides, where was the fun in arguing with a person who had already yielded that it was her fault? “It’s fine,” he repeated. “It looks bad, but really it doesn’t hurt.” For all his honesty and bluntness, he would not admit that it was as bad as it looked, that his chest hurt every time he tried to take in deep breaths, and that his head felt like hell. Maybe he did not want to upset her more, or maybe he did not want to deal with an upset woman. Besides, they were equally at fault.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and twisted his body slightly so he was facing her. The small movement brought a sharp pain on his left side that he unconsciously brought his right hand to his midsection as if the touch could support what he suspected were cracked ribs. His shoulder leaned heavily against the backrest as he pulled himself on the seat. The free hand reached for her soft cheek, gently wiping the tears that had traced a line from her eyes to her chin. “And I never wanted to hurt an innocent animal,” he smiled at her, but the sobbing didn’t falter.

The box was left open at her lap and the antiseptic spray remained grasped by her hand. Luke picked a familiar box out of the first aid kit. “This one will work better than the sutures. It will glue the tissue together and it hurts less. Then you will have to allow me to check what might be wrong with your arm,” he told her in an attempt to take her mind off the guilt that was apparently bothering her. Knowing how headstrong Rhiane was, he thought that if he introduced a task for her to perform then she might forget what she was crying about in the first place. But the tears did not stop. She continued to avoid his eyes and was content to watch the tears fall.

Luke wanted to believe that he held no room for softness in his heart, but watching how his proud and ever so stubborn Rhiane yield to fear pulled something in his heart. The prince sighed, but not without wincing. “This is as much as my fault as it is yours. Come here.” Biting back the pain on his chest and the protest from his thigh, he leaned forward to pull the farmer closer to him. The hand that had wiped the tears from her face went around her, stroking her back as she sobbed on his shoulder. He understood trauma. He understood how fear could break a soul. Above all, he understood that he was partially responsible for what happened, and that his action had yet again placed her in as much danger as he placed himself. Luke remained still as long as she needed him to be. His hand continued to stroke her back to console her, whispering to her over and over that it was not her fault entirely. That they were both going to be alright and she need not be afraid.

But then, the SUV should have had deployed one or more of its safety features. The minimum safety requirements of any vehicle were that it should have an airbag, collision detection, and emergency break system which should have prevented the incident altogether. To think that a vehicle that passed none of the mandated features was assigned to the future king was suspicious in itself. He was reminded of the plot that he and his team discovered before they left the capital – one that involved making Rhiane into a martyr for the rebellion. “The break,” he said softly. “Why did you not step on the break?”

The Betrothed

“It should feel the same.” Luke shrugged as he checked out the other SUVs from the rearview mirror. A farm truck and a four-wheel drive SUV should run on the same principles – there was a steering wheel, a manual stick shift, the break, clutch, accelerator pedals, and four wheels. How different could it be?

The SUV was not as luxurious as the cars or hovercrafts that he used to drive in the capital. It was built for utility more than style. Even the interior was basic, containing only a three-inch monitor with a pre-loaded map to their destination, buttons that controlled the temperature inside the vehicle, the gauges, and vents for the air conditioning. The dashboard looked like it was made of cheap but durable black plastic, while the seats were covered in leather of the same color. Luke left his window open, inviting the chilling but fresh scent of the country air.

They would be driving up the mountain ranges with just the pre-loaded map as their guide. The land was damp, some parts even muddy, because of the downpour overnight. Even the air smelled of rain. Most of the trees had shed their leaves to the ground, its branches lifted to the heavens as if asking the sun and the clouds to hasten each day until the leaves bud and bloomed and covered the mountains with its lovely color. It would be a scenic drive around the slopes of the mountain ranges, where one would expect to be greeted with the unique flora and fauna as well as the view of the mountains from a few miles above sea level.

Luke grabbed on the overhead handrail, bracing himself from the bumpy ride. He had never been to that part of the kingdom because of safety and logistical issues on top of the queen’s apprehension in allowing her heir to venture into the land of the peasants. Even though he was outwardly frowning at the idea of visiting the parts of the kingdom that was seldom noticed by either the press or the nobility, Luke could not deny that a part of him was excited to see something other than the capital’s towering architecture. The SUVs were parked at the base of the mountain, a short distance from the seldom-used runway, but Rhiane wasted no time. Apparently, testing the feel of the foreign vehicle was not her style. The princess elect stepped on it, and she did so with passion that Luke tightened his grip on the handrail as the cold autumn breeze zipped past his cheeks and blew through his hair. “Slow down,” he warned, wondering why she gave her such power.

It was not that he was feeling lazy to drive, but Luke suspected that his fiancee might be an adrenaline junkie. She leapt with him off a cliff even though she admitted that she could not swim. But as if it was not enough, she asked him to promise that he would take her to other more thrilling adventures during or after the tour. Driving a 4x4 SUV, he thought, was one such thrilling adventure. It was especially true because of the steep and winding slopes of the mountain ranges. He thought that she might enjoy it and that he might get some rest. But the way her fiancee was hitting every bump, every fissure, and every cavity on the road made his mind race as quickly as his heart. She didn’t care that there was somebody else in the car with her who had bumped his head and other parts of his body more than once on more than one part of the vehicle. It was not the worst she did, though. Luke thought that what made the ride more traumatizing than his days as a boy in the military training camp was that Rhiane didn’t know that it was necessary to slow down when executing tight turns, especially when the road was narrow, and one side of it was a cliff.

He could not help himself from yelling at the driver, who on the contrary, was enjoying the speed. The words “break” and “slow down” seemed to spit out from his mouth every ten seconds. If she was getting back at him for teasing her in the airplane, then it was working out fine. Luke was helpless. Other than grab the handrail or anything solid he could get his hands on, there was nothing that he could do. He would not grab the wheel, because it might cause the SUV to swerve and fall into the ravine. Although so far, other than the possibility of a heart attack, everything was fine. He could not bring himself to decide if it was that she was a really good driver or that she was crazy to think that her style was safe.

Then Rhiane tackled another difficult curve, but that time the farmer was not as lucky. A large animal, which Luke thought was a big hairy cow, greeted them. Rhiane seemed to freeze in her surprise or perhaps it was an overload of possible actions to take. If he didn’t make a move the animal and themselves might get injured, or worse. The prince did what he thought was the best course of action. Despite his previous resolve to leave his life into her capable hands, he grabbed the wheel and veered the vehicle to the left attempting to safely go around the beast. However, because of the speed, the vehicle's tires skidded and the vehicle swerved. Luke both saw and felt the front wheels bump the road railing, he witnessed how it yielded under the force from the SUV. The car was airborne for a split second, then they were falling.

The initial impact tipped the balance of the vehicle, flipping it in mid-air before it crashed on its passenger side and continued to tumble down the slope. If not for a fallen trunk of an old tree the car would have continued tumbling down the slope until just the skeleton remained. Fortunately for the couple, although positively wrecked, the SUV landed on its wheels.

Luke was barely conscious. He was confused and his brain signaled pain all over his body. His head was throbbing, his body felt sore and it was painful even to breathe. Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead, right at the hairline. “Rhiane,” he forced his eyes to focus and his body to move, but a sharp pain on his mid-section forced the prince to fall back against the backrest. Could be that he broke a couple of ribs too. And on top of it all, there was a particular sharp edge from the shattered windshield protruding from his right thigh, right above the knee.

One hand reached for her. “Talk to me. Are you hurt?”

The Betrothed

He might have already known that she would go against his wishes, but it still surprised Luke that she told him no twice. As if once was not enough. It puzzled him why the woman kept on rejecting his advances, kept on taking two steps back every time he would take one step towards her. No human being in New Rome or anywhere in the world had ever treated him the way she treated him, because he was a person who held authority and power. While most people he encountered all his life were eager to be associated with him in any way, Rhiane Black kept him at arm’s length as if he had contracted a contagious disease.

When she avoided his gaze, he allowed her to find solace in the plain wall and the shuttered window. If despite her comments regarding his physical appearance, she found that the wall had more interesting features than his face, then he allowed her to amuse herself. Because hearing the subdued tone of her voice told him that somewhere along the sentences that his mouth carelessly spewed, he said something that had offended the farmer. The subtle change in the energy she exuded spoke more firmly than the two “No” that he had received so far.

“I have nothing to gain from this exercise,” he declared in a matter-of-fact tone. “Therefore, I have no reason to raise the requirements and have you follow my every whim. It’s not as if I enjoy faking intimacy with somebody I barely know.” But he did enjoy making her uncomfortable with his advances. Without him acknowledging it to himself, he seemed to enjoy the color that would light up her cheeks whenever he teased her, the expression of shyness in her otherwise confident face, and the way she stammered as if her eloquence had eluded her. “I asked you to try and kiss me to help you get used to such gestures. You said it yourself that you like to keep things professional. Preparing before the battle is what I believe a professional would do in order to seal his victory.”

Not like he would enjoy the endeavor, Luke thought but dared not voice out loud. They have had enough arguments in the last couple of days to last for the year. Besides, irritating her again just for the sake of winning the argument was not worth it. Instead, the prince decided not to comment to the thing she said about the difficulty in mimicking love when it was an emotion that she had not yet genuinely felt then he pushed past her to bid the sliding door to allow him to pass.

Pairs of eyes were trained on him as long strides crossed the distance between the private suite and the cockpit. None of them dared to utter or whisper a word, especially not Tobias.

Luke proceeded to fulfill his duty as the captain of the flight. He spoke to the passengers, as was customary and reminded them to take their seats as they approached their destination. The landing sequence itself was uneventful. The private jet landed on a short airstrip some kilometers away from the mountain ranges whose tips were perpetually covered by ice. After the prince and his co-pilot had ensured that they had parked the aircraft beautifully, the cabin doors were opened. He left with every intention to pick his fiancee up from the private room and then escort her down the plane. It if was not for Tobias, Luke might have succeeded.

The crown prince was among the last people who disembarked from the aircraft. What awaited them were heavy duty vehicles that were used as a main means of transportation in that area. It was a short drive up the mountain along the cliffs and dips of the path. By the time he had successfully and safely stepped down the ladder, Tobias had already escorted the princess elect into one of the vehicles. Seeing that Tobias might stay in the vehicle with the two of them. Luke jogged to the vehicle with body number 014.

“Rhiane and I must continue our discussion from this afternoon. It can be confidential, therefore I need you to ride with the boys instead.”

The guard frowned at his cousin, but no comment left his lips. “It is a rough and dangerous road, Prince Luke. It makes me feel at ease if I will be driving for the two of you rather than watch from a distance.”

“Appreciate your concern, but Rhiane and I are capable of handling this ourselves. We will meet you at the village.” Tobias was not convinced and it showed on his face, but what could he do if it was at the prince’s request that he should relax and take a seat elsewhere.

After the guard had left, Luke pronounced Rhiane’s name to catch her attention. When she did, he tossed the car keys to her and asked, “Can you drive?”

The Betrothed

As much as he found her squirming amusing, Luke had to let Rhiane go as he retreated to the pilot’s seat if only to press a soft key right at the middle console that partially separated the pilot and his co-pilot. It flashed red indicating that the cockpit door had been sealed shut. The button was designed to protect the pilot in case of any forceful seizing of the aircraft. Carter, being the co-pilot could override the command through iris and face recognition, but Luke doubted that other man would.

Five minutes was what was left of the time he had left alone with Rhiane. Tobias had a point. The farmer had neither clearance nor license to be occupying the seat next to Luke. It would risk not only her safety, but the safety of everyone on board if Carter would not resume his place because the prince had been amusing himself with the way his fiancee was reacting to his torturous teasing. But then, he still had five more minutes, thus he ignored Tobias.

“So do I, Ms. Black.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I intend to keep things professional. It’s just a kiss. It doesn’t need to have any feelings attached, just the biological function of the muscles on your face and mine. I’m sure that you’ve done it before. Who said anything about dating and love? And liking you.” He smirked. She may be beautiful, smart, and on occasions seemed to care about his well-being more than his mother did, but there were layers of prejudice that existed between them. Luke was a highborn royal while she was a farmer. A field mouse would not understand what an eagle could see. “You believed in my mother’s silly propaganda and agreed to play the pawn, did you not? I believe that my proposal is a fair and mutually beneficial trade. Do what I ask of you and I shall do what you are asking of me.” What he did not understand was why she was finding it so difficult to display fake affection for him when it was her who had been pushing him to make the charade as believable as they could make it since the first day they met.

The assertive rap turned rude. “Your highness, the Civil Aviation Safety Regulations clearly prohibits any non-licensed individual from assuming control of an aircraft. Please allow me to escort Ms. Black back to her seat.”

His eyes briefly flickered to the direction of the door before returning to stare at her face. “I had no idea who Lia and Octavia were talking about until now. It makes sense, though.” Luke just didn’t care to analyze some things that he had witnessed, but he did notice how his cousin seemed to be more than just protective of Rhiane. The guard had faithfully accompanied her when Luke was outside the palace performing his duties as the crown prince, even stayed by her side when she was in a critical condition and would have stayed all night had Luke not dismissed him. When she fell asleep anywhere from the couch to the dining room, Tobias carried her to the bed without Luke even asking. All those deeds were not due to his cousin’s loyalty to him.

He pushed the button to unlock the door. It automatically slid open in time for Luke to swivel the chair so he was facing his cousin. Gone was the playfulness in his eyes or the easy way that he smiled. The prince was more known for his icy glare than his warm smile. However, the same look was reflected on his cousin’s face as he stood at the other side of the door like Cerberus daring the soul of the dead to escape. Neither spoke a word for a few agonizing moments as if each was sizing up the other man.

It was Luke who first broke the silence. His voice rose above the quiet whirring of the engines. “We are in the middle of a negotiation, Tobias. Allow me to assure you that neither you nor Rhiane is in any real danger right now or in the next hour.” The prince tilted his head slightly toward his betrothed without breaking the eye contact with Tobias.

“Ms. Black, allow me to escort you back to your seat.” Tobias’ face softened ever so slightly. He took a tentative step forward thinking that his cousin would not dare lash out on him and simply turn away to focus on the job at hand, but was surprised when the crown prince rose from his seat and stood before the woman. He took her hand in his then urged her to be on her feet as well.

“I’ll take care of it,” he countered hastily, leading her by the hand as they passed Carter, who Luke instructed to prepare for landing, then Rhiane’s security team, then Ms. Viscomi until finally they reached the private suite. As soon as the sliding door locked them out of the spying eyes and ears of the passengers, he turned his attention back to her. The look in his eyes would tell her that he was not going to let go until he got what he came for.

With her back on the door and him blocking her means of escape he dared her, “Kiss me.” Because practice makes perfect. Because he wanted to know why her boldness, her confidence, her fiery resolve, was lost whenever he made a move to be physically intimate with her.