Hashih

The Betrothed

The raw emotions bundled in the terrifying sound of her scream frightened him more than the gunshot that echoed inside the small space. His ears were still ringing and his brain was absorbing the reality that the bullet was neither meant for him nor did it find him. For a second, a thought crossed his mind that Rhiane was shot, that the assassins had succeeded. But Tobias was standing a step away from the door frame. His cold emotionless eyes stared back at the prince, before seeking after the face he came for.

Luke saw it, the slight widening of his cousin’s eyes and the tight leash he placed around his emotions if only to stop him from shoving the heir to the throne aside to get to the woman and tell her that everything was alright. The rumors had a few bits of truth in it. If he had not heard the female guards talking about it, Luke might have missed the subtle change in attitude of his cousin where Rhiane was involved. For some unknown reason, it annoyed the prince.

“Tobias, take her. We’re leaving,” he ordered.

If it had been just the two of them – Luke and Rhiane – he might have given into the tiny voice at the back of his head telling him that his arms should comfort her and not his cousin’s, that whispered words looking to calm her should be his and not the guard’s. But the decisions he easily made, the consequences he easily damned, seemed uncomplicated when it was just him and her. Having other pairs of eyes trained on him, waiting for his next mistake, made it difficult. Turning into the callous, stuck-up, royal was easier.

He walked over the corpse of the rebel and knelt on one knee. Tobias took the opportunity and went to the princess elect. Luke could have watched the two from the corner of his eyes, but he purposefully trained them elsewhere. The rifle, for instance, was interesting. “Nolan,” he raised his voice. “There is a doctor somewhere in the building. Take him with us.”

“You mean this one?” The older bodyguard followed the doctor into the bathroom. A bruise was starting to show on his jaw as well as his cheek. The rebels may have spared him, but they did not pass the opportunity to hurt him in order for him to yield to their demands. Luke raised his head from the rifle he was examining, then nodded once.

“There are more than two, correct?”

The doctor nodded. “I do not encourage violence in my clinic. Especially when high profile people are involved. There are at least five of them. I would appreciate if the fighting will be taken elsewhere.”

Luke got to his feet with the help of the sink. There was evidence that the exertion did no good to the gash on his thigh, the fresh adhesive bandage had blotches of red, while the side of his torso was starting to feel the pain when breathing. “There will be no fighting if we can help it.” The rifle was slung over his shoulder as he limped towards the exit. “We’re leaving. Treat Rhiane while inside the vehicle.” He would not risk staying longer knowing that the two that they had dispatched had allies out there who probably heard the gunshot.

Nolan obeyed without question, keeping his weapon drawn as he led them out the building. If the royal guard had anything to say about the prince’s injuries, his mismatched pants, and his seeming protectiveness over the princess elect, he held her tongue for later. Yet his eyes wandered to the rifle slung over the prince’s shoulder. Luke also noticed it, that the piece of equipment was not an ordinary rifle. It was not inexpensive to be owned by peasants who supported the rebellion. “Give me your earpiece, Nolan. I need to make calls.”

The Betrothed

It could be confusing sometimes when the pulse raced, and the temperature rose when he thought he had everything under control. His actions, even the words he chose, were calculated. Those were meant to accomplish a goal, yet oddly he felt blood rushing to his face in split the second between releasing her and she leaning onto him.

Her lips were soft, but very much sure. It wasted no time and waited not for a sign that the man she poured her affection to would be capable of returning even a fracture of it. Sometime, somewhere during the past few days that they were forced to be together, something must have clicked inside her complex and confusing mind. Chemical reactions might have happened at the right place and at the right time, producing a state that was perceived by the woman’s consciousness as perhaps a crush or an infatuation.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you,” her voice floated in his subconscious, a memory from a not so distant past.

Maybe it was the same for the proud crown prince. His heart knocked so hard in his chest at the feeling that her gentle lips and honest feelings brought. She might even feel it as his arms went around her to pull her as close as he could against him without hurting her arm or his injuries. Without hesitation, without thinking of what could come out of the thoughtless indulgence, he returned the favor. There was no hurry in the way he kissed her back, as if their life was not in peril and they had all the time in the world. He did not want to scare her away by rushing her into giving into his demands. Instead, where their lips met, there were gentleness and patience. And even if they did not have the time, they at least had that moment.

But the sound of heavy footsteps and cursing pulled Luke back into reality. As if a spell was broken, he jerked his head up to listen. In between the dwindling drops of the tiring storm were voices and orders barked. Somebody must have seen through their deception. He did not expect it to mislead them for long anyway, but he did not expect himself to be distracted as well.

“You must get away,” he commanded Rhiane rather than asked it of her. Outside the cubicle was a small sink and a wall with an exhaust window. It was just large enough for Rhiane to crawl into. The stool he carried should help her climb towards freedom.

Luke pushed the cubicle door open, then led Rhiane out. He grabbed the stool and positioned it on the far end of the bathroom, opposite the door. “Go on. I’ll follow after you.”

Then again, before she could either argue against it or nod in agreement, a sound like an explosion disturbed the pretense of peace. The bathroom door swung open revealing a rain-drenched man armed with a rifle poised at the couple. Behind him was another man, younger, but with the same look of triumph in his eyes. “There you are, princess.” The man with the rifle cooed as Luke stepped between Rhiane and the gunpoint. “For a while, we thought that we had lost you, but you were right up our noses all this time. Clever trick.”

He took one step, then another, but the third was punctuated with a gunshot followed by a heavy thud. The rebel outside the door was on the floor, convulsing as blood pooled from his mouth and his eyes stared into Rhiane. The one with the rifle’s eyes widened in surprise. He spun around and raised the weapon to defend himself, but the royal guards were trained to be quick. A bullet had buried into the assassin’s forehead before he could even touch the trigger of his weapon. The man fell like a log, and as he cleared the view, the couple would see Tobias sanding at the doorway.

The Betrothed

The wind rattling window against its frame and the continuous prattling of rain against the roof prevented him from hearing enough of the conversation. However, raised voices and sound of forceful entry alarmed the heir. He was unarmed and though he might have a slight chance at a hand-to-hand fight, he doubted that anybody with the intent to accomplish what the SUV and the treacherous mountain path should have would come at them with nothing but their bare hands. “We have to --”

The metal pole crashing on the floor rang above the wind and the rain. He whipped his head to the direction of the sound in time to see the effects of his fiancee’s pig-headedness. Barefoot and resolved with what she had to do, Rhiane went around the bed and to the door that was forced shut. Luke pushed himself to his feet. Thank the painkillers and adrenaline he moved, rather limped, relatively faster than he thought he could and was able to place himself between the princess and the door.

The thin barrier failed to keep the sound of raised voices addressing Rhiane, trying to reach out to her under the pretense that they understood how she was suffering in the hands of the royal family. They positioned themselves to sound as the savior she was longing for, even if she did not need one. “Don’t even think about it,” Luke said calmly when it appeared to him as if she was about to reach for the latch and yield to the appeals of the people from the other side. Having been able to observe her around peasants, he thought that she was the kind who would readily place her trust on people with kind words for her. He remembered the cannoli from their first unofficial date, the artisans, the educators, her maids, strangers who were invited to share a moment with her. It was not healthy, especially when there were people who sought to forever silence her in the name of the cause they believed was for the betterment of the kingdom.

Luke took a step closer to her, forcing her to take a step back, but he held her in place with his hands on both her upper arms. “Listen to me, Rhiane.” Behind them, the rebels banged on the door with their fists or the butt of their guns. It would not hold long enough for their rescue to arrive, especially if anybody in the group would lose patience and shoot the locks or the hinges. They had to do something. He glimpsed past her to a window, which then shut the storm out of the room, a door that he thought would lead to a bathroom, and what he guessed was a janitor’s closet. “Evolab and the breaks on the SUV. Those were not meant for me.” He did not want to make her worry by letting her know the real situation, but if he continued to keep it to himself, Luke doubted that the farmer would listen to him. “The rebellion wants you dead. Tobias knows about it. I can explain everything later or you can ask him, but I can’t let them have what they want. We need to move now.”

He grabbed the wrist of her good arm, intending to pull her away from the door. The truth about their present circumstance, how her life was in more danger than his, should have convinced her to heed him. What Luke forgot was how the woman had little regard to her health and general safety. Perhaps she believed in the cries of the assassins at the other side of the door, or perhaps it was because she hated him with everything that she was that despite hearing his side of the story, she chose to plant her feet firmly on the ground. If he could, or if it would not make him look foolish, he would have swept her off her feet and carried her where he intended to go, but his injuries would only get worse. Instead, the prince tightened his grip on her wrist and pulled her.

His other hand dragged a chair by its backrest. The metal screeched against the tiles as he crossed the room with it. Without regard for the noise, or maybe he wanted to create such a commotion, he swung the chair as hard as he could on the window. Its metal legs smashed the glass, but he used his body to shield Rhiane from the shards that could unfortunately find her. Shouts emanated from where the rebels waited. Commands were thrown into the air. He couldn’t clearly hear what was being said, but he hoped it was to pursue the couple outside the facility. The window was large enough to fit an adult. They could use it as an escape route, but the prince was bold in his choices. He dragged Rhiane and a metal stool into the bathroom. That time, the stool was carried without making the scraping noise.

The door shut behind them just in time as a sound of a gunshot resonated followed by the door banging against the wall. Luke pushed Rhiane inside one of the cubicles and pressed a hand against her mouth in case she thought it was a good idea to scream.

“Fuck! The bitch escaped!” The voice was muffled but audible.

Another person cursed. “What are you waiting for? Follow them!”

The hand remained clamped on her mouth, his body covering hers inside the cramped space. There was no space for air to be between them, and honestly personal space was the last thing on his mind. His heart pounded in his chest as they listened in the semi-silence for voices or footsteps, any hint that somebody thought about searching the bathroom. He would not give the rebels what they wanted even if it meant being her shield. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier about --” Luke whispered to her ear but couldn’t finish the statement. If she could see his face, it was a wonder how the overconfident playboy blushed at the thought of what happened inside the SUV, especially at a time when both their lives were in danger. But if either or both died that day, then he or his ghost would forever regret not telling her. “It’s not mediocre and I don’t want you to go with Tobias.” The words were said in rapid succession, as if he would not be able to say it if he gave his mind enough time to think. “I’ll take my hand off, please don’t make a noise.”

The Betrothed

Luke could try to contact the palace again. It did not appear as if the storm was about to ebb soon, and though there was little comfort with the thought that no sane person would brave such a weather, he could not be sure how safe it was to stay in the medical facility. The doctor may not have shown them any sign of ill intent, but he could be a sympathizer of the rebellion who might have given a tip to the crown’s enemy about the whereabouts of the royal couple. Until proven otherwise, Luke would find reasons to doubt the intentions of strangers around him.

“The doctor said you need it, so it stays where it is.” His eyes were still wandering, trying to figure out what was beyond the walls and behind the windows. Was the building surrounded by a village, was it in the middle of the woods? Unless he knew enough, it was difficult to plan an escape route. Absently, he reached for his wrist expecting to feel the smooth and relatively cold surface of the device, but instead soft flesh met his touch. “Our medical team will be able to fix you better. Until then, bear with the sling.” He absently touched the strap over his chest which held the brace in place. It was uncomfortable, but at least it fulfilled its intended purpose of restricting his movements. The same could be said about the sling. He imagined that it too was an uncomfortable contraption, but it was the best that the facility could offer.

He ignored her comment about him being worse that Sebastian. The latter was known to the prince only through a brief phone conversation therefore he would not decide whether it was a complement. All he knew was that Sebastian meant a lot to Rhiane, and she to him. Did she liken him to somebody she considers as her brother? Maybe it was what she meant when she said that she liked him. Suddenly the memory of her lips, the manner in which she responded to his otherwise emotionless gesture, shot up to the forefront of his mind and effectively shut down other thoughts. No, she did not think of him as a brother.

“I don’t suppose a mediocre kiss is enough to get inside a person’s head and presume to understand how he thinks.” Luke stretched his legs before him. He didn’t notice earlier, but the medical staff cut the right leg of his pants while he was sleeping, possibly for ease of access to the injury above his knee. The alteration could have been better if the other pant leg was trimmed off as well. Besides, the doctor might not be aware, but the article of clothing they ruined was probably more expensive than the doctor’s mobile phone. “But if you wish to speak to the farmers yourself, then by all means meet with them. I do not have the time to listen to grown men and women whining about their situation. I will tell my mother that I was the one driving the SUV so that there is nothing to discover, nothing stopping you from dragging my cousin with you to a room full of farmers.”

He kept his gaze away from her, as if the faded curtains and cracked tiles were more interesting to watch than the play of emotions on his fiancee’s face. She mentioned Tobias again as if the guard had earned her trust more than him. As if the guard was able to offer more than what the prince offered her. He would not pretend to understand the logic behind it, the reasoning of a peasant woman who rather picked a barely noble man to a future king. Anyway, if it was what she wanted, then there was no reason for him not to ask Tobias to stick by her side. Allow her to indulge in the presence of one who was lacking so that she could appreciate what she stood to lose.

“You do not want to know how my mother will treat you and your family if she finds out that you are partially responsible for what happened.” The queen had always thought that Rhiane was replaceable. It would entail additional work, but it would ensure that the future mother of her grandchildren would not incite rebellious thoughts into her grandchildren. “Remember how they are the reas--”

Muffled voices from beyond the room cut through his train of thoughts. Luke paused, frowning. It sounded like an argument though he could not make out any word.

The Betrothed

What was the point in carrying a mobile device around when it could barely make a call? Luke glared at the outdated model he gingerly placed on the bedside table. The old piece of technology could be blamed for not being able to effectively catch the signal. Or it could be the receiver was broken, which explained the static. Nevertheless, the failed attempt to make contact with the queen left Luke with nothing to do but study the opposite bed as Rhiane was being tended to by the doctor.

After he had time to re-evaluate the room, it was difficult to deny that it was indeed not at par with the hospitals he’d been to. That one had Smaller budget, perhaps, but maybe it was because the facility was not catering to a city as populated as the capital. The budget was rationed based on the population density that a facility was expected to service. While it might be true that he should not be expecting the same sophistication as the Medical Tower back at his home, the budget should have been enough to provide the same treatments that was available in the capital. He was not looking for a state-of-the-art facility anyway, just a relatively practical treatment that was nothing revolutionary at that time. To hear from the only medical professional in the room that it was impossible to dream of having close to the same service level as the hospitals in New Florence was disturbing.

The field of medicine may not interest him, but the well-being of the people was his business. The right to the highest attainable level of health was among the first of the many human rights re-established after the war. It made the state responsible for the quality of living of its people as well as making sure that healthcare services were accessible to all and was provided without discrimination. Such was part of the mission statement of the Ministry of Health. Was it wrong to trust the reports and study the figures? Had there been a problem that was a threat to the kingdom, Luke would have paid more attention into the industry. Then again, the Ministry of Health seemed to be doing its job well such that there was no more outbreak of diseases, no more repeat of the plague, it also supported innovative researches in the field of medicine.

Luke wanted to know more, to interview the man while the prince had nothing better to do than stare at the walls and listen to the whistling wind, but Rhiane stirred and talked. Her voice might be laced with sleepiness and confusion, but it did not lack character.

Tentatively, he tested the mobility of his upper body given the brace that was supposed to keep him from placing pressure on the cracked bones in his chest. When it didn’t hurt due to either the pain killer or the brace, the prince carefully sat on the side of the bed before his foot touched the floor. The nurses had dressed him with the shirt he lent Rhiane and strapped the brace over it. The doctor would have something to say if he saw the patient getting on his feet, but since the doctor left the room, nobody stopped Luke. He dragged his injured limb with him across the room and into Rhiane’s bedside.

A chair beside her bed became Luke’s next base. He lowered himself onto the cushion, finding the right angle for his back to rest comfortably. “Rhiane,” the name was tested on his tongue. Would she remember what happened inside the SUV? That he tricked her into taking the sedative? That she had admitted some things to him? “You’re wrong. You need all of those.” It was difficult to understand how she thought she did not need help to feel better after she fractured her arm.

Luke touched his free hand on her uninjured upper arm, a gentle pressure to remind her to stay in bed. She may argue that he should be lying down as well, but if he did not rush to her side then he was almost certain that the princess elect would rip the sling apart and demand to find the road to call for help. “You’re only going to hurt yourself more if you insist on taking it off. Leave it while we wait for the boys.”

The rain would not pause. He looked away from her face and away from the memory of the backseat. The heavy rains deprived him from the view outside. The loud pounding noise, stopped his ears from hearing the sound of an approaching vehicle. The doctor may have said that the boys were on their way, but the weather seemed impossible to cross.

The Betrothed

The sun was shining cheerfully over the capital as if it existed in a different world from the mountains where Luke and his future bride found themselves on. Without a gray overcast and sharp lightning bolts, blue skies stretched on for forever with but a few thin clouds breaking the monotony. None of the howling wind and angry gusts threatened the busy streets around the palace or the central business district. The temperature foretold the coming of winter, but not of a storm.

“How am I supposed to stop worrying about my son?” The queen snapped. It had been a couple of hours since the emergency signal was detected by the Royal Guards and yet nobody had confirmed the whereabouts of the crown prince. There was a report from a small medical facility that Luke and his fiancee was brought in by a concerned citizen, but the storm affecting the area had prevented the local security team from confirming the said report. Besides, the quality of the call was not good enough to extract satisfactory information. Telling her to stop worrying was like ordering a puppy to sit for the first time and expecting it to know what to do.

The prince consort may have been her source of comfort many times and in many ways, but even his reassurances would not sway the queen that day. Prince Damien patiently set down his cup of coffee. “We have been in this situation over and over again. It’s not like this is the first time he went missing. Remember how Lucius managed to get home safely every single time.” There was nothing he could say to calm the woman pacing in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass. There was a threat to the life of the princess elect. Queen Camilla should have been relieved that her children were not the target, but her son was too close to Rhiane for his own safety. She knew Lucius. He may be an elitist and had little regard to those not belonging to the same class as himself, but the prince had an annoying fixation to winning in every situation. Because he knew that his enemies sought to take his betrothed from him, it would push him to keep her to himself, exercising every power he had in his disposal to make sure that they would not succeed in whatever scheme they were planning.

“Every single time in the past was a near-miss.” She turned her back at the bright blue sky and the city of New Florence. “I nearly lost my son. This kingdom nearly lost its future king. One day we might not be as lucky, then I will not be able to live with myself, Damien.”

Prince Damien turned his attention to the screen showing feed from several pinned news outlets. “Today is not the day we lose favor from lady luck. Lucius will call you when he can. Worry about how to manage the rumors.” The delay in the arrival of the couple had inspired speculations from the media team camped at the venue.

The queen frowned. “I should have listened to Luke. I should postpone the tour while the investigations are on-going. It can--”

“None sense!”

Just then, a message popped-up on the screen showing a call notification. “A call from an unknown source, your majesty,” said the queen’s virtual assistant. If at any other time she would have hesitated to answer a phone call from an unknown caller, that day Camilla was too eager to hear who was on the other end of the line.
“Mother, it’s Luke.”

The queen’s breath caught in his throat. Her eyes widened and she rushed to the communicator on her office desk. She picked the device up and took the conversation privately as her husband sipped his coffee. “Where are you exactly?” But static answered her question, followed by fragmented sounds of what could have been a sentence. “Luke?”

---

“Mum,” Luke was frowning at the ceiling. He lifted the mobile device over his head, put the call on speaker and tried to make sense of what his mother had said. But there was only static and unintelligible sound. Outside the facility, the storm still raged on, possibly messing up the signal. Or perhaps it was already messed up to begin with. He tried again and again, but the more he tried, the more frustrated he became. It was impossible to communicate under such conditions. Luke hit the cancel button and instinctively tossed the phone to the bed out of frustration before he remembered that it was not actually his.

He picked the device up and placed it on the bedside table. He did not like how vulnerable the they were. The facility was manned by only the doctor. Perhaps it had no security personnel, but even if it did would it protect Rhiane or side with the enemy?

The Betrothed

As far as he was concerned, a plaster cast was used to encase a broken or fractured limb to restrict its movement therefore encouraging the bones to heal precisely as it should. It was a common method of treatment before the war wiped out more than half the global population, although other materials were developed to address the weight and discomfort that a plaster cast brought the patient. Needless to say, it was an ancient technology that was no longer practiced in the capital.

Luke had paused upon hearing the alternative proposed by the doctor. If a part of him believed that this man, who has the accent of one born and raised in the capital, was properly educated, such faith wavered when the doctor brought up the use of a plaster cast. He could not blame Rhiane for declining such procedure, nor for not trusting the doctor. “Which university did you get your medical degree from?” He did not mean to sound like he was belittling the doctor’s capabilities, but it might have sounded that way. What the prince wanted was to establish the doctor’s credibility if he was, by chance, an alumna of one of the prestigious medical colleges in the kingdom.

“I have no interest in the medical field, but even I am aware that medications far superior than a plaster cast have been developed in the last few decades. Flexegard is one example. It is relatively cheap and quick to be administered by a professional like yourself.” The most common remedy to a fractured bone, at least as Luke believed, was a serum injected as close as possible to the damaged bones. The fluid would then act as a binding compound that would restrict the movement of the affected area until it healed. Of course, it needed to be aligned in the proper position before the treatment was deployed. A modified silicone brace, much like the brace that supported Rhiane’s sprained ankle, would also be prescribed as an added protection to the affected area. “But if you have not had experience with medical devices like Flexegard, a sling will do.”

He was not surprised to hear that his fiancée declined medical treatment on the grounds that someone else might need it. She was the one who needed it at the moment. Should anybody else would later on, then the facility could provide for them. There was an allocated annual budget under the Health Ministry for the operations and maintenance of the government-owned hospitals and satellite medical facilities. Every year, the amount increased because of the growth of the population, inflation, and research funding. It held a significant chunk of the kingdom’s annual budget, especially after the plague that devastated the land. He should know, because although the queen’s signature and seal were the prerequisite for the approval of the annual budget, Luke actively participated during the budget hearing.

Unless the doctor told Rhiane that it was the last set of splint, of bandages, or of the sling, she should not be worried that the next patient would be left with nothing. In fact, if the person running the facility was more aware of the developments in the medical field, then the team should not be relying on outdated methods. Then again, Rhiane had always shown how little she thought of herself, as if she deserved only hardships and not the comforts that the world could offer. Luke had tried to talk her out of that mindset, but each time that he brought the issue up, the couple ended up debating on the topic of poverty and privileges.

“Go on. Nobody needs to talk to her if your team will do it while she’s asleep,” Luke prodded the doctor. “I’ll make sure that she doesn’t take off the sling until she gets proper medical attention. She might accidentally hurt herself if her movement is not restricted.” He remembered her efforts to nurse the gash on his thigh or how she must have been in pain as she popped the child-resistant cap off the bottle of pills. “But before you go, I need to borrow a mobile device.”

The Betrothed

There was not a time when Luke enjoyed the feeling of consciousness clawing its way into the peaceful trance his mind was in. Yet just like every morning when the sun was just about to grace the western world with its presence, reality dragged him back into the real word where he was supposed to hold an audience with the peasants if his intended would keep her side of the agreement. If she would have the courage to kiss him in public.

Slowly, drowsy eyes focused on the worn-out floor-to-ceiling curtain. It was supposed to be light blue, but the combination of bad lighting and several trips to the laundry room made it an odd shade of gray. His eyes followed the fabric up to the white square panels and the dimmed lighting fixture that made up the ceiling above the bed. Where was he again? Thunder pealed in the background a few seconds after the room pulsed with borrowed light. Somebody’s voice caught his attention.

Luke turned his face to where the voice of a man came from. He did not recognize the face of the person sitting near his bed, but the person’s attire blended in quite well with the scent that emanated from that place. The doctor’s accent did not, though.

“I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures which are required, avoiding those twin traps of overtreatment and therapeutic nihilism.” It was quoted from the Hippocratic Oath that his sister would practice reciting to him when they were younger and she still wanted to become a doctor. The statement implied that Luke expected the doctor to treat the princess elect no matter what she said or did, because it was obvious that she was not fine. “Did you not commit into your heart and soul the same oath, doctor? Or perhaps it was just another sentence from your textbooks which you have committed to memory in order to pass an exam.”

Callista once said that it was not a good idea to piss off nurses and doctors when he was sick simply because these people were authorized to stab him with a needle and make it as uncomfortable as it could get. She might have a point and maybe it was plainly not wise to show hostility to the person who did his best to treat him. Then again, the doctor could have already treated Rhiane while she was asleep. Such disregard for the welfare of his patient must be the reason why he had to be far away from home to be able to practice his profession. Luke had lived most of his life in the capital to recognize the accent. The doctor might have an office in Loncia, but the prince guessed that the doctor was born and raised in New Florence.

“Let her sleep,” Luke commanded. “I need you to do what is necessary to treat her now while she is asleep. Forget about ethics, take this as an order from your crown prince.”

---

“Jupiter is still missing,” said the message. It passed from one device to another using a private communication line. The alert status had unconsciously raised not only the activities of the royal guards, but also that of the unknown party that they had been striving to get their hands on.

“Somebody reported that Jupiter and Ganymede are in a medical facility in Loncia,” another message replied. The senders were protected by neutral codes and it were even restricted to upload a display photo. However, no matter how careful they were, the Forensic IT team would at least have something to work on.

“Copy. Finish the job.”

The Betrothed

A single raindrop touched his cheek, and it didn’t matter from which crack it entered from. Luke barely even noticed its existence as he listened to the soft voice confessing words he believed she would otherwise have kept to herself if not for the drug. It was an information he would not have wanted to learn about, because by knowing he was obliged to respond. And he was about to say something – for he had been raised, educated, and trained to think on his feet – but the chemicals in her body rescued both him and her from an answer that would have been half-meant and possibly regrettable in the future.

“Go to sleep, princess. It’s just the drug,” he reassured himself more than her. Would she even remember what she told him when she woke up? Rhiane couldn’t have fought against chemistry even if her brain had the most outstanding resolve to go against his demands. Against her will, her body was ushered into the comforting lullaby of unconsciousness, slowly shutting down her ability to think rationally as her pulse slowed down and her breathing calmed. He wondered if her brain realized that she was speaking to Luke and not some creation of her brain that spoke and appeared to be him. Nevertheless, it was an earnest confession from a woman he ought to not even consider worthy of his attention.

Gently, he pushed the dark locks away from her face and tucked it behind an ear. Rhiane was a pawn of his mother, somebody she believed she could use to salvage the image that she and her predecessor had raised for themselves and the nobility. She was not a person to Queen Camilla. The farmer was a piece in her game that was of the smallest value, somebody she could afford to lose despite the positive reception of the general public. Luke might have amused himself in the meeting of his and Rhiane’s minds, but the queen would rather keep her son from playing with her toy.

As if the thought about his mother suddenly reminded him of the thing he needed to do, the prince unclasped the device on his wrist. He had thought of managing the situation without alerting the palace, but with a looming threat and his fiancee’s condition, he was left with no choice but to explain everything to his mother while assuring her that he was alright. Sticking the device into tight space between the passenger seat’s headrest and backrest, he broke it in two by applying force parallel to the backrest. It would raise a distress signal to the prince’s bodyguards and the palace security. The feature was secretly installed in the heir’s device as an added emergency measure should the device shut down or a malicious party tried to cut off the traceability of the heir by destroying the device. Receiving such a signal would trigger a special extraction protocol, which placed the military and the police in high alert status. Though in reality, it was just his mother overreacting.

He did not lie when he told her that help was coming.

---

“Control Tower this is Rook. Vehicle sighted. Wait out.” The tires of the 4x4 dug into the muddy ground as Tobias carefully piloted the vehicle down the steep slope. The crown prince’s signal was a matter of the kingdom’s security that would not be less important than either a thunderstorm, a landslide, or their lives. His team was immediately dispatched against all odds to locate the missing royal. Tobias had driven like a blind mad man, navigating dangerous curves with pure luck and a little bit of driving even when the downpour made road visibility an issue. Safety on the road was not an issue when the crown prince was worth more than all their lives combined. Besides nobody wanted to be summoned by the queen for allowing such an incident to happen under their noses.

When the two arrived at the site though, the thunderstorm had thankfully abated. Both men immediately unbuckled themselves and flew out the vehicle. Nolan wrenched vehicle 014’s rear door open. But what he found was empty seats and an open emergency kit.

---

He must have fallen asleep. Luke slept very lightly even when he was tired, but it could be that the painkiller he took not only signaled his brain to stop recognizing the pain but also dull his senses. Even before his consciousness resurfaced, he felt that he was moving. The realization jolted him awake. Where was Rhiane? He pushed himself up before his eyes even had the chance to focus.

“Don’t get up.” A hand touched his shoulder then gently urged him to lie back down. His eyes shot to the face that owned the voice. It was a woman in scrub suit with her hair pulled up in a ponytail. Did she now know who she was talking to? Who she so casually touched? But even if he asked, her attention was not to him at that moment. He was apparently lying on a gurney led by 2 nurses, heading somewhere.

“Where is this place?” He demanded. Based on the smell and the attire of the woman, he was in a medical facility of sorts. The problem was that, the room they entered was a cramped space with about four spaces for beds parallel to each other separated by slightly stained, worn-out curtains. The aggressive smell of bodily fluids and antiseptic greeted him, grabbing his attention more than the walls which were not white and the tiles on the floor which were cracked, and a couple of flickering lights. The gurney was led to a spot perpendicular to the wall, then the curtains were drawn shut. “Is anybody from among you not deaf?”

From the corner of his eye was a male nurse holding a syringe. “This is Loncia, your royal highness. One of our own found you and brought you here.” The female nurse gasped. Of course, his face would be recognizable, but perhaps the common people were not used seeing him in a less than perfect condition – sharply dressed with his hair brushed to one side and his face sporting a carefully calculated expression. The male eyed his blushing colleague. “This will sting for just a bit,” was the only warning he got before the nurse buried the syringe into the vein on his left hand and pumped whatever chemical it contained into his body.

Luke tried to get up again. He did not trust any of these people or any of the medication they were giving him. He twisted his body and swung his legs to the side of the bed in an attempt to get away, but then the world seemed to spin and his vision blurred. “Rhiane?” He managed to blurt out before the strength left his muscles and he felt himself slump on the bed.

The Betrothed

Every single question, every ounce of logical reasoning, flew out the window only to be drowned by the torrential rain. It happened before the chemicals in brain had time to process the whats and whys of his prejudice against the common people, most of all his fiancee. He may have teased her time and again with the use of intimate gestures, but it was only because she had consistently shown displeasure towards such affection. So much so that her face would turn red and her usually persuasive lips would find difficulty in catching the next word. To say that it amused him to toy with her was not untrue.

But what would happen when she finally put her foot down and take him up on his challenge? When she suddenly stood up to him to prove that she was braver than an awkward schoolgirl confessing her love for the first time? When she was ready to make it known to him that she had no weakness that he could use against her?

The rain prattled on, and so did the hammering in his chest. Luke’s confidence quickly withered into uncertainty as the crown prince was caught off-guard in a position where he neither desired nor loathed. And as logic fled him, he was left in the middle, grasping for reason and answers to the whys that lingered inside his head. Why? Why? Why? But all he knew was that the pressure of her lips against his brought shivers down his spine, took away the pain, and muddled his head. He had no answers to the whys, but the prince did answer to her demands.

Luke could not tell how much time had passed, whether it be a second, a minute, or an hour. He was enchanted by the unsolicited affection from the woman who openly rejected every intimate advances that he had made so far. But as he felt her conviction waver, he reluctantly pulled away. Her eyes were soft and sleepy as they tried to focus on him. His were darker perhaps than the first time he laid her on her back and fed her the pill. She looked beautiful even with mascara smudged on her cheeks and her hair undone by the rain. He could tell that she was defying the pull of sleep, daring the sandman to sprinkle his magic sand onto her eyes. It was one thing he admired about her – she was a fighter. Rhiane was stubborn, argumentative, and he could not count in his hands the times that she had driven him mad because of her misplaced courage, selflessness, and wit. Yet despite that, Luke could not understand why he thought about her when she was not around him. He remembered her when he was watching the sun rise from the clouds and thought that she would enjoy it if she drove the 4x4 up the mountain.

What just happened?

He pushed himself up as far away to her face as his hand on her back would allow him. Rhiane was not Sophie. To be honest, he had toyed with the idea of using Rhiane to plug the hole that the actress left behind, but… “It wasn’t so hard, was it?”

With his right hand tucked between the cushion and her back, he carefully helped her sit up and lean against the backrest. Lying on her back was awkward as her torso was in an odd angle with her waist. But then, he noticed how the material of her shirt clung to her skin. In the middle of his acting, he had neglected to notice how uncomfortable she must be in that shirt that was drenched in rain. Luke slumped on the seat beside her. He plucked the painkiller from his pocket and then popped it in his mouth, avoiding her eyes.

There was no way he could take the wet clothes off without hurting her, but perhaps he could help shield her from the cold winds. The prince lifted his shirt over his head and then offered it to her. “Wear this over your shirt. It isn’t as soaked as yours.”

But he did not wait for her confirmation. He could see how hard she was fighting against sleep and understood that in the space between sleep and wakefulness, it was often difficult to make a clear judgment. The prince just volunteered to put his shirt on her. Carefully, he pulled it over her head then let it drape on her shoulders and then down to the seat. Her arms were not forced into the armholes, nevertheless the shirt was a layer of protection from the cold. He was larger than her, so it shouldn’t be restricting enough to hurt her arm.

“What just happened?” Luke asked quietly, unable to contain his curiosity. He avoided her eyes as smoothing the material of his shirt, making sure that it covered her arms and hid her hands. “You broke your own rule.”