Hashih

The Betrothed

While celebrities who desired to keep their identities unknown bow their heads and hide their faces, Luke stood confidently tall. Even in just a plain v-neck shirt, tailored pants, and sneakers, his blonde head and elegant features were out of place. If he thought that an old-fashioned building with all its loud patrons was not where cameras would catch him in, it did to show on his face. The place glowed in a soft yellow hue from well-kept post-war lamps hanging from the wooden beams overhead. Names of food and concocted drinks were written using bright colored chalks on a chalkboard behind screens showing sports coverage. A line of wooden bar stools filed parallel the counter. The barkeep lifted his head and grinned upon finding the familiar face of a patron. Then his eyes drifted to the man beside Rhiane.

Luke nodded absently as he entwined his fingers around hers. So far so good. No mobile phones pointed at his direction, nobody staring openly at him except for the few moments with the barkeep. Maybe Rhiane was right, it was fine.

They passed the men of the Black household without their notice. It was as if they were people who belonged to the crowd, unremarkable and not at all interesting. Most of the crowd was drawn to the stories of the newly rich men and the renovations that their home was undergoing. A small settlement such as Rhiane’s hometown tend to be knit tighter together. It was therefore not surprising to overhear talks and jokes about the renovation of the estate that Rhiane had pioneered. He would not be surprised if these men and women already heard about how he did manual labor the whole day. But so long as nobody asked, he didn’t care what they knew.

Luke followed his fiancee’s lead to an unoccupied table. But the couple had barely sat down when a man who Luke branded automatically as one of Rhiane’s exes offered to buy them a drink. The prince’s initial reaction was a cold blue sideways glance. As if the man was not worth moving his face for. His eyes went over the feature of the stranger’s face then it returned to watching the match being aired on the monitors. He was perfectly content to ignore the friendly hospitality offered by the stranger until Rhiane introduced her fiance to the married man. The royal locked eyes with the princess elect, not frowning, but questioning her life choices. Of all the people inside the bar, she was the only one who was aware of how uneager the crown prince was in making acquaintances out of commoners. Yet, there she was introducing a stranger who unabashedly called his future king by his nickname. Not even by his first name, but his nickname.

“Manners are taught in kindergarten. Unl--” Upon turning his head to face the stranger, his eyes grazed the face of his betrothed. Luke cleared his throat and straightened his back. He ignored the outstretched hand and instead raised his to call the attention of a waitress.

She was a petite lady in black button-up uniform and dark brown ponytail. Her face paled and just as quickly colored a shade of pink as realization dawned her. She took tentative steps to the table. The impatience on her customer’s level gaze encouraged her to move faster. “Hello, Rhiane. You’ll have the usual?”

“Your menu, please.” Luke demanded. In bars he visited, there was no need to demand for the menu or even call for a server. His presence was enough to trigger the management to mobilize his crew to ensure that the royal was comfortable and happy. The rural, it seemed, was left behind not only in terms of technological advances, but also in customer service.

The waitress, flustered by the quiet command, fished a tablet tucked on her back and presented it to Luke. He pushed the device to the man Rhiane called Terzo. “Tonight is on me. Order whatever you want.” Then to the waitress he said, “I’ll have whatever she will have. I’m curious what the usual is.” He turned to her and finally smiled as if mischievous thoughts ran in his head.

The Betrothed

Luke didn’t need to hear it – her confession that she had been with men who they may meet that night. He didn’t feel that she needed to know who he had been with in the past. Their arrangement was one out of political convenience. Nothing personal. Nothing emotional. “I’m not jealous,” he corrected hastily, without much conviction, before his words were spun into something it was not. Some days ago, his mother told him off for being too honest for his own sake. It wasn’t as if he was being completely honest with himself though. “I have nothing against you meeting your exes, no matter how many they may be.” Truth be told, he would not be able to concentrate with whatever he was doing if she was to go out alone. “Without a signed document, we made an agreement not to meddle with each other’s personal lives. I honor that promise, and maybe even encourage you to…” He heaved a sigh as he felt her fingers weave the dark golden strands of his hair. “When all of this is over, I promised to return you to your family one way or the other to live out your life in comfort. One of those boys may be the one waiting for you to come home.”

Her apprehension at court may be the same apprehension he felt with common people. Each belonged to a different ecosystem, an outsider forced to live in a different habitat. What he found comfortable and familiar was alien and uneasy to her. The same was true for him. That night, they were living inside her world. Though the entirety of the nation bend at his command, he could not help but feel awkward and unsure about entering the world she grew up in. What was there to see? How different was it from the elegant courts and flashy fashion statements?

“Alright, promise that if we go out tonight, you’ll stay close and I promise not to trouble you if I get drunk.” He forced a smile, then pointed out, “If.” One thing he disliked most about being with common people was being gawked at, photographed, and scrutinized for his perfect manners. Rhiane said it was alright to be human, but the other humans act as if it was not. A royal ought to be perfect, else he had no rightful claim as a ruler. It may be too much to ask, but he hoped that the night would be different.

The Black household treated him as just another common person -- asked him to stay under the sun, to harvest the produce, to tend to the compost pit. It was a tiring, but refreshing day. The night, he hoped, would be the same. Unconscious or not, his instincts told him to find her hand and entwine his fingers around hers. “Your brother will be so mad at me he’ll make me mix the poop pile with my bare hands next time. Let’s be on our way before your family lost their cool.” Luke let her by the hand as they exited the security of her room to meet with the rest of the family.

As was his plan, two cars were dispatched as their ride. Nolan and Tobias firmly objected to let the couple out of their sight in a crowded establishment. They insisted, one after the other, to stand by the door or by the window, somewhere or anywhere where they would not bother the couple. Luke was just as firm. No, the bodyguards would just make everyone uneasy. Tobias kept on stealing glances of the princess elect from the rearview mirror as if waiting for her to jump to their cause anytime. The prince, though, effortlessly negotiated to arm himself instead of having two stiff and obviously armed gentlemen hover over their shoulders. The rest of the ride to Rhiane’s favorite bar was spent tossing arguments back and forth, but as it was, nobody could outdo the arguments of a future king. In the end, Nolan sighed, grumbling about his life choices.

“We’ll be fine. It’s just a couple of drinks.” He kept on adjusting the neckline of the borrowed shirt.

Luke’s bodyguard snorted. “He said the same thing years back and ended up getting stabbed by a drunk pissed off lord.”

“Bleeding and a little bit tipsy, I managed to break that asshole’s nose and arm.” Luke reached for the latch that opened the rear door. He was, of course, proud of his misadventures as a wayward princeling, those that made her mother’s list of why she should disown the boy.

“Tipsy is a grave understatement, my lord,” Nolan mocked a bow. “Do look after our future king, Miss Black. He is no longer at that age when his antics can be construed as cute.”

The Betrothed

“I most certainly did not suggest to shower and bath together, ma’am.” He pulled-off a lopsided grin that was as cocky as it was mischievous. Not that he did not think about it, the prince was just concerned about the impression he would make to her family should he carelessly voice out his wishes. Besides, he was counting on his fiancee to make the offer and she did. “I specifically and politely – mind you – asked permission to use your bathroom so that I may clean myself. It was you who suggested that we do it together.” Which made him a much greater enemy to her brother.

Truth be told, he had not thought of their recent intimacy the way she did. Her words took him aback that the grin was wiped off his face and his jaw went a little slack. It may be the difference in the maturity between a playboy and a woman. He was all about the fun, while her mind was already preparing for motherhood. If the tables were turned and she was the female in the relationship, he wouldn’t have thought to stop partying on the account of a possible pregnancy. Besides, he was not ready to father a child. There were other consequences of a successful pregnancy which he was not prepared to tackle that night, so he let it go.

When she raised the question about how they ought to disguise themselves, Luke shrugged. “Being a little stealthy is better than announcing our presence in the local bar like superstars. Let your father and brother enter the bar first. We’ll wait a few minutes while the patrons fawn over them asking about you and me and if rumors are true that we are visiting town.” Her face was a face that was difficult to hide in a village that most probably knew each resident’s face. His had been in the broadcast, magazines, papers, and every media platform ever invented. She was correct to point out that the exercise of pretending to be common villagers was futile, except that his plan was more than pretending but redirecting as much attention as possible. “Then we come in and take a seat somewhere in the background. Could you call your friend to tell him that we do not want too much attention, and because of that he should be the one to take our order?”

The more she talked about it, the more excited her voice got due to the prospect of meeting old friends and sweethearts, the more anxious Luke became about their night out. He was good at holding a conversation with the working class. The working class, on the other hand, had opinions about the royals which he was not in agreement with. Some may even be resentful of his presence. All Luke wanted was a drink, good food, a quiet night and none of those ex-lovers she was talking about.

A soft knock disturbed their conversation. Luke, having nothing else to do, went on to check who it was, saying, “You seem excited to meet those exes. What, to flaunt the guy with the ‘best offer’?”

Sebastian’s face greeted Luke when he cracked the door open. A few of his belongings were bundled on the foreigner’s arms, which he turned-over to Luke. Most were made of a material that was a bit stiffer and rougher than what he was used to wearing. He set the clothes on Rhiane’s desk. The clothes were all the same to him and it did not matter which one he picked so he did the topmost article. It was a plain blue t-shirt. “Should I just stay behind?” He mumbled into the shirt as he pulled it over his head. His hair was mussed after he emerged from the shirt. “Or maybe drive you to the bar and then pick you up after you’re done rekindling old flames.”

The Betrothed

There were a lot going on in his mind, but none of it had to do with his position, the amount of work he left behind, or that he had been ignoring calls for the past few hours. Without precedence, his day doing manual labor had taken most of the worries about trade relations, global concerns, and security. In its place bloomed his curiosity about crops propagated in the different topographies of his mother’s kingdom. He had eaten tomatoes harvested from different regions and he knew that each had its own unique characteristic, as if coming from different species entirely, but that day was the first time he picked one from its shrub.

Needless to say, he had almost forgotten the reason he insisted to visit the farm in the first place. Luke paced to the bed then back to Rhiane’s door to come after Sebastian, but then decided that discussing their secret arrangement around the other men might not be for the best of all concerned. He sat on the bed, feeling the cold metal of the drive deposited inside his pocket. One reason why he could not allow himself to explore the limits of his alcohol tolerance that night.

“Thank you for not letting her win.” He pushed his hair out of his eyes. “I’m a bit frightened to find out what else she knew about me that I myself had no idea about. Makes me wonder if you would still have joined the contest if you had the knowledge that this third placer had.” That he had never really fallen in love – except maybe with Sophia even though it was still a debatable subject – or that he had no respect whatsoever to women, or that he was arguably the rudest elitist of all the elitists in the land, were but two reasons for any sane common woman to run the other direction. It was his power, his position, his looks that blinded his paramours and made his previous relations superficial. None had cared to dig deeper to really get to know the person behind the mask. None but the woman he was not meant to be with at least for the next decade.

A forlorn smile graced his features while his mind wandered outside the farm and into memories he created with someone else. Good thing Rhiane had her back on him, laughing a little as she pulled on her jeans. “Why should you remain sober?” He absently asked the most obvious question in a voice that was uncharacteristically his, then lifted his gaze from the floral bedspread and into that spot that the sweater’s neckline emphasized. “But it doesn’t matter. Drunk or not, you take advantage of me and my weakness.” He arched a royal brow and cocked his head to the side, imitating her. “Undressing in front of me, joining me in the shower, jumping in the same bath that I am in. What else must I believe other my fiancee getting out of her way to seduce me?”

He pushed himself to his still bare feet, past her only to open the closet full of her clothes. There was a variety of colors and styles. Most were not suited for the season’s favorite fashion, though most were wearable. The prince scanned the collection of clothes until he found a cotton scarf that he felt complemented the color of her sweater. It was also of decent size that she could drape it over her shoulder to compensate for the lack of cloth of her v-neck sweater. He handed the material to her.

“I will do that later.” He unraveled the scarf himself then draped it around her. “Wouldn’t want you to catch colds tonight.” Wouldn’t want men looking at her chest more than the colds thing. “The bodyguards can stay and guard the perimeter if you’re not happy to be in their company tonight. Did you mean Tobias too?” Luke teased. He had expressed how he suspected the bodyguard saw the princess elect as more than his charge. Rhiane was not unfriendly towards the man. “Though we must not be spotted coming into the bar with your family, else everybody will instantly know and our disguises will be pointless. Remember our first date?” His lips stretched to a genuine smile. “How you mutinied against me and made us both starve? Well, we’re doing this undercover dinner for real this time, and I honestly do not want any paparazzi photographs or videos circulating the internet. No picture taking with the locals as well, let’s just enjoy the night as normal people. You think it’s possible?”

The Betrothed

“You do not watch a lot of news, do you?” He crossed his arms over his bare chest, watching as she waltzed into the room followed by a train of droplets dripping from her long hair. The crown prince was not exactly the prim and proper type of royal like most would expect one whose entire life was scrutinized under the lens of a camera. While sons and daughters of noble houses projected an image of a seemingly obedient offspring, the heir to the throne had this notion, at least when he was younger, that he need not prove anything to anybody, because he was going to be the next king. Sleepless nights held a different meaning then, right when he was about to graduate from the flight school and freedom was within his grasp. Rhiane must have been either too busy with the farm or did not care about the local showbiz scene to not hear about the drinking habits of the royal.

He pulled his pants and sat on the bed, then resorted to watching her browse the clothes hidden in her closet. “I’ve nothing to prove to you or the people, but I don’t see any reason not to go out and get us some drinks tonight. Just a few bottles to soften the edges. Your brothers don’t have to catch up with me if you don’t want to take care of drunken men tonight.”

Her bedroom had a touch of femininity in it that if he was to enter the house alone and then asked to find which was her bedroom, it was clearly that one. Some canvasses leaned against the wall adjacent the bathroom. Out of curiosity, Luke pushed himself off the bed then inspected the canvasses. They were paintings. Definitely the work of the same artist as the style appeared to be the same though the themes were different. He touched the dried paint on the cavass. The vivid colors bled on the white sheet forming interesting portrayal of reality as Rhiane saw it. Not every painting was realism, some were abstract, while a few had a touch of the drama of impressionism. He remembered Sebastian, during their first conversation, saying that she loved to paint.

Luke was going to change the topic and ask her about the paintings when a soft rap sounded from the door. Since his fiancee was not yet fully dressed, the prince went for the door, cracked it open a bit, only to find Sebastian on the other side. The foreign gentleman appeared to be both flustered and uncertain about knocking again. He cleared his throat and asked, “Are you two about ready to step out of the room?” Sebastian looked over his shoulder to the banister to the living are as it was visible from where he stood. “They are getting hungry and are starting to complain about the lack of food. We can prepare food on our own, but Rhiane rarely comes home so perhaps they wanted to taste her food once more.”

“But we are planning to dine out tonight. All of us.” Rhiane was correct, it was quicker than preparing a meal for the rest of the household. Besides, though he said that he did not need to prove anything, his ego was ticked when she implied that princes such as his self, did not know how to handle their liquor. He wanted to prover her wrong, show her that he was better than the common people even at drinking strong spirits.

Sebastian looked thoughtful. Perhaps having the same thoughts as his in-law. Luke and his bodyguards would stand out in their designer clothes then it would be a disaster in the bar with people either loving him or hating him to the core. “You can’t step out of the house wearing your clothes, your highness. I’ll bring some clothes for you to try on. We may be the same size.” At Luke’s slight frown, Sebastian added, “Don’t worry, there will be no holes and it will be as comfortable as your designer clothes.”

Sebastian disappeared into the hallway. “If it itches, I am not going to wear it,” Luke pronounced sounding like a whiny teenage girl who did not like her dress for the ball.

The Betrothed

Queen Camilla had two younger siblings – the Chief of Defense and the Secretary of Economic and Financial Affairs. Both used to live in the castle with the queen. They could still be living with her, except that the younger royals chose to plant their roots outside the walls that had imprisoned them all their lives. It was therefore a rare occurrence that the Chief of Defense paid the Queen a visit at night without appointment, and without any event requiring his attendance.

He stood in front of the glass walls of the tower, overlooking the tiny lights of the city sprawled before him. New Rome was a superpower in a world nearly destroyed by humanity’s greed. Its influence stretched far beyond the boundaries of one of the world’s oldest civilizations to modern day France and Germany. All these were the work of his forefathers. Lords and Ladies of Europe’s wastelands, who organized the survivors in order to build a civilization far greater than its predecessor. He was in it now, a member of the dynasty, to protect what had been built, what had been handed down to their generation.

“I got back from the reception of Ambassador Kim, I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Dante.” The attendants at the door bowed as it slid open to let the queen in. She dismissed both, walking into the center of the room and assuming a seat behind her brother. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company tonight?” It was not everyday that the prince visited his sister. Truth was the siblings more frequently saw each other in formal events than personal visits.

The Duke exchanged the beautiful skyline for his sister’s attention. He resembled the queen so much that they used to be mistaken as twins. However, where the queen learned a semblance of calm, even friendly, demeanor, her brother was all frowns and business. “I have to talk to you about your son.”

“Which son? I have three of those, you know.”

“Camilla,” he sighed, exasperated at how the queen sometimes toyed with him. “you, of all people, are the most well-informed in terms of the current events in this kingdom. I am assuming that as his mother, you are closely looking into the ‘activities’ of your eldest. Where is he right now, and whatever is he doing there?”

The queen craned her neck so she could see her brother’s face, one that looks a lot like her, except for the hardness in his eyes that not even the security of their privacy hid. Of course, she knew where her son was, but her eldest was not one to spill his plans or what was in his mind. One side of her trusted that Luke understood the consequences of royal mistakes and that his actions were as well-calculated as the proposals he authored that morning, the other side worried that he was allowing his emotions get the best of him. Unlike the noble men and women, her Luke and Callie, no matter what they said, listened to the tiny voice of conscience from the deepest recesses of their minds.

---

Luke was successful in taking a step back and stopping himself from raising a point when she told him what she believed about cooking. The men of her household were already against him, he could not possibly survive the next few hours with Rhiane mad at her too. Because if he told her what was on his mind, it was certainly going to be another war of words. Her beliefs against his.

He lay on his side, his head leaning against the ceramic tub with her cradled in his arms. They had kissed and touched and flirted time away. His eyes were closed as he let the warmth soothe his tired muscles, when Sebastian’s voice came through the closed door. It was something about that object he supposedly left in his pocket that caught his attention. He normally did not place anything in his pants’ pockets, but even though that was the case, he did not say a word. “Thank you, Sebastian.”

If Rhiane watched his face closely, she would have noticed the uncertainty before his body stirred to pull his fiancee closer to his body, as if the tub made for just one person was still too wide for him. “Should we step out and dress ourselves?” If the tightening of his embrace was any indication, he did not want to step out into the real world just yet. The calmness of having nothing to worry about if only for a few minutes was addicting. Luke tilted her chin to meet his kiss. “Just a few more minutes,” he seemed to answer his question, then kissed her again.

The couple spent the few more minutes taking advantage of the privacy to get to know each other in an intimate manner. He basked in her beauty and toiled to make her comfortable and content at the same time. It was just like the night at the spa, where they pretended to be different people. People who were not told who to marry.

After the minutes ran out, Luke stepped out of the tub first to fetch soft towels from beneath the sink. He draped his over his head then passed Rhiane’s before helping her out the water. “Your brother will be more intent on murdering me now. Your father too. Especially if there is no one else in this house who can cook the way you do.”

The Betrothed

Taking care of the logistics was supposed to be up Anelle’s avenue. She was appointed not only to make the couple look good in public, but also make sure that both were in their prime condition for work. Such work included taking care to think about what the prince and his princess elect needed and where it should be. The change of clothes, for example, was supposed to be loaded into the service in any eventuality that the couple decided to stay in the farm house. Anelle, smart as she was, could only hope to sabotage the day probably by “forgetting” to ask her team to pack a change of clothes for the couple. It ensured that they would return to the hotel, thus she could find a way to take the prince aside and have a private moment with him.

The lack of coordination annoyed the crown prince. It was evident in the way his lips were pressed in a thin line when he turned to look at Octavia. Although if he was about to say something, the opportunity was taken away from him by Sebastian and subsequently Rhiane. Especially when she said “we” and not “he.” He allowed her to lead him upstairs where he met the paintings on top of the stairs. She did not stop to give him the chance to critic the paintings, maybe because she thought he would, but instead continued to her room.

“I don’t know, maybe it was this that made me stop you.” He opened the door for her then followed her inside. “Imagine where we’d be right now if I did not stop you from hitting your brother. I’m not sure where you think, but I’m sure it’s not in the privacy of your room. The looks on their faces when you announced where we’ll be is revenge enough.” He pressed a kiss on her temple before she started undressing.

The bathroom was not as cramped as he imagined it would be. It had a shower and a tub, which was more than what a typical household would own given their financial status. However, some tiles were cracked and the paint on the wall stained with time. It was old, but functional and clean. At that moment, he was not in the position to picky. It was either Rhiane’s bath or the dirt and grime on his skin.

Luke kicked his sneakers off. His feet felt awful, it looked raw though if he felt any pain, he did not let it show in the way he walked. The confidence of his strides was misleading. He undressed before he answered, “Whichever takes the longest. There’s no way you can make me wear your clothes while waiting for Sebastian.” So, they must take their private time in her bathroom. “I’ll help clean you up under the shower before we soak in your tub.” He turned the hot water on then did the same for the shower. It sputtered a few times before the water came running smoothly. A glass of wine would have been nice while they relaxed their tired muscles, but it was more than he could ask for from a poor household.

He stepped under the cascading water and waited for her. “Did you cook lunch today? It was delicious.” The four of them sat under the shade of a tree devouring the flavors of homecooked meal. There was an uncertainty as to why the food tasted so tasty when it was just a salad, minestra, and pasta. Maybe he was just hungry. The memory reminded his stomach that it was in need of sustenance. It growled much to Luke’s embarrassment. “It was delicious,” he repeated with a sheepish grin.

They took their time, without regard to how much water they wasted. The stipend would pay for the expenses, and if it would not then Luke would. Time alone together and away from the eyes of the press, however, was rare and precious. They touched and kissed and cared not that they were not alone in the property or that the following day would greet them with as much challenges as the previous day left.

The Betrothed

As the sun sunk deeper and the pretty shades of twilight fade into black, the farmers and their apprentice retired for the day. Soiled boots invaded the newly polished flooring one by one. Hubert was first to cross the threshold, then there was Sebastian and Gerard with Luke right behind them all. The farm tools were discarded in a plastic bin outside the door, cleaning of which was one more task to accomplish come daylight. The men were clear with their mission for that day, but none had a clue, not even Luke, about what the princess elect had been up to other than shopping for furniture. Therefore, it came as a surprise that the house had been cleaned and organized, touched by a woman’s hand. The walls were scrubbed clean and the floors polished.

Luke had been tired of keeping his patience in check, of absorbing all the unfounded insults hurled his way, of not fighting back. But when his eyes found his intended with her hair pulled up in a messy bun, wearing a casual shirt fashioned to show her midriff, all the fatigue and the budding headache disappeared. Rhiane and her smile. It shouldn’t, but it did make him feel emotion he could only describe as the lovechild of longing and happiness. It made him forget the nicks made by shears on his untrained fingers or the blisters on his feet from wearing fashionable sneakers instead of functional ones. And suddenly he regretted not harvesting a few stalks of flowers from her garden for her.

But the smile morphed into a frown and just as soon did she launch into the offensive. Luke nodded at Sebastian, freed one of his hands from the gloves and just when she was about to strike, caught her wrist. If she turned her head, he would be caught with an amused expression which he kept on trying to hide. “It’s fine. The flowers in your garden will thank me for such a fine compost. I made sure that it was thoroughly watered and evenly aerated before replacing the cover.”

Gerard just smirked. Sebastian was the only person who was kind enough to explain the process to Luke instead of leaving him staring indignantly at a covered pile of dung. But perhaps even the latter doubted that a prince and the future king would seriously tend to the compost. Luke just asked for a piece of cloth that he could use to cover his nose and mouth with. His shoes were dirty, his clothing smeared with dirt and the occasional juice of fruits he harvested. Even his face, which was flushed by the sun, was not safe from smudges of dirt. Working in the field was neither comfortable nor glamorous, but the prince went through with it out of curiosity and pride. More of the former than the latter.

He let her wrist go. His eyes wandered around the space she put together. “Nice work making this place look a little more livable. I see that there’s no need to bring in an interior designer.” Three of her guards were still in the room, helping tidy up the place. No doubt that she worked the three to the bone as much as Gerard and Hubert did Luke. The ladies did not appear to be happy about the menial housework, but Tobias did not seem to mind.

“I'm going to use your bathroom. A warm bath is all I need right now. Actually, I don’t care if the water is warm or cold.” All that mattered was for Luke to feel clean again. He gestured for one of the girls to step closer. “Fetch a change of clothes for both myself and Rhiane.” Octavia acknowledged before she was on her way to the vehicle. Luke casually walked to the kitchen where he tossed both gloves into tha trash bin. His dirty sweater was pulled over his head and unceeemoniously diacaeded Problem was, she returned empty-handed and with an explanation that it was not loaded to their service.

The Betrothed

“That is precisely how I see any man pining for Callie’s attention – not one of them is worthy.” Luke said it with an arrogant smirk. Nobody alive was man enough for the crown prince’s little sister. The princess shall remain unattached if it was up to him to decide who she would be allowed to date. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

His half-smile and the mischief in his eyes as he quietly recalled how much fun it was to intimidate his sister’s suitors concealed the realization of truths she almost accused him of. He wondered how much of it was her family’s opinion and how much of it was hers. Regrettably, a lie to reassure her that he was not that man was a lie he would not tell her. Luke just stared at her out of the corner of his eyes as he quietly worked on the sleeve of his other arm, as even the half-smile faltered. No words of comfort could be said. Not even after they had recently taken to each other, because what she said was true. He was expected to be unable to love her as well as have her replaced with somebody who would not be a humiliation to the generations who had worn the crown before her. The silence of the prince stretched as she reminisced the history that the four posts of the two-story house witnessed.

As he watched the bittersweet memories brighten her face, he started to doubt if he can indeed save her from the fate which she chose for herself. How much was he willing to sacrifice, how far was he willing to take his promise.

Proving himself to the rest of the Black family, trying to gain Sebastian’s trust, and keeping her as an ally – all these were all about gaining information. He kept telling Rhiane and Sebastian that it was for the sake of the former, yet it was but the half of the truth. The other half was propelled by the crown prince’s competitive nature pushing his desires to score a win against the rebellion. Maybe he was unaware which weighed more to him – her safety or his responsibilities to the dynasty and its allies. Maybe he was not yet ready to answer that question.

He watched her abruptly turn her back then almost collide with her brother. Luke’s defenses were immediately on alert. He stood taller and his face harder as the three farmers joined the couple. “Would you like Lia and Octavia to accompany you?” He asked after she hurled her threats at her brother. Being idle most of the day was a sure way to be dragged to the land of dreams. Hers were not pleasant recently, therefore somebody had to watch over her even as she slept. Even though it was relatively safe inside their home.

---

Nolan and his straight face was standing beside Tobias when the rest of the household stepped out into the sun. The perimeter security awaited his command as the prince stepped out of the shade and into the sun. Maybe he had changed his mind. Most were anxious to leave the unfamiliar territory littered with possible sniping spots and other hazards. Although protocols were strictly followed and a periodic sweep was done by drones, everybody was aware that it would take but one carefully aimed bullet to compromise their mission. Nobody wanted to be part of the troops that failed their duty to protect the future king.

Thus, the team was disappointed when Luke followed the three tall gentlemen. Nolan wondered what was it that caught the interest of the prince that he cancelled his attendance to his meetings for the day, including one that his uncle requested on behalf of the Defense Ministry. The guard itched to ask Luke personally why was they wasting their time at a farm, but as one of the men handed a plastic container and a pair of work gloves, Nolan could not help but lift a brow. The crown prince he knew would not even consider stooping so low as to crouch on the damp earth to engage in manual labor. He had much better things to do than pretend that he knew what he was doing.

The weather was cool, but the sun was merciless. Nolan immediately strode beside the royal. He leaned close and spoke close to Luke’s ear. “We have enough men to do the manual labor, sir. Say the word and I will pull-out people to do the hard work.” It was short of saying that a man of his stature was not fit for such work. “It will be faster too,” he added.

Luke, on the other hand was only half listening to his personal bodyguard’s recommendation. He had just finished listening to his fiancee’s voice as recorded by her brother-in-law and was reading the forwarded missive. “Secure the perimeter,” was his only response. Kidnapping was the lesser evil of the two evil acts threatening Rhiane, but to hear that the rebellion had not given up on their quest to get their hands on his betrothed was not in the slightest good news. He was tempted to forward the message to somebody he trusted in order to try and trace the source, but it may raise questions which he did not want to answer.

Sebastian stopped a few steps behind the two other farmers. He looked over his shoulder at the prince who appeared to have concluded a conversation with on of the sharply dressed royal guards. He loaned the heir grape shears then promptly oriented him on how to use it, when to use it, and to which bunch to use it for. “Not all grapes were equals,” Sebastian reminded Luke. Then continued to a short lecture about what a ripe bunch of grapes looked like. The prince was about to raise a question entirely unrelated to the harvest, when Gerard summoned Sebastian for help.

Working for hours under the sun was rather unpleasant. Beads of sweat lined his brow, his cheeks were flushed and so was the exposed skin of his forearms. He crouched and bent his back in order to capture the produce into the bucket-like plastic container given to him. After one was filled, he had to carry it over his shoulder to its temporary storage in a room dedicated for it. The work was not too tiring, it was the sun and the heat that was uncommon during fall that sapped his strength. Add to it the ceaseless calls from his staff, his associates, and officers whose concerns were always tagged as “urgent” that perhaps nobody understood the meaning of the word. Before he knew it, he was simultaneously working for the farm while attending to his responsibilities as a crown prince. Charts and drafts were projected from his wrist, which he read and interpreted as the tomatoes and grapes fell into the bin.

Gerard and Hubert were never satisfied with Luke. They always had something to say about the quality of the produce he was gathering, the manner at which he picked the crops, or his sluggish movement. He gritted his teeth and said nothing. For the sake of Rhiane, he thought, he would not talk back no matter how much he wanted to. Not even when Gerard told Luke to do the composting of horse manure.

But even a hard day had to end. Sometime after lunch, the sun yielded to the horizon, slowly drowning New Rome with beautiful hues of orange and blue and red.

The Betrothed

“Send me a word once you verified the transaction,” Luke was telling one of his staff when Rhiane called his name. The prince looked over his shoulder at the brunette who still had her hand on the door then mouthed, “one minute,” before getting back to the conversation.

The sun was at an angle such that the main house cast a shadow over the couple standing under the awning and close to the front door. It was such a fine day. Luke had thought that by then the introductions to the family would be over and they would already be on their way back to their lodging. He planned to spend his time finishing the recommendation he promised the queen, then start to work on the review of policies leaders from all over the globe proposed to New Rome. Those pages were to be scrutinized, consulted to his advisors, annotated, until the kingdom had a solid position. It was going to be a long day, but not in the way he thought.

The prince raked his hair with a hand then finally addressed Rhiane as the line died away. “What is it?” It was still early in the morning, but he sounded exasperated with how the day was unfolding. Must be because of the lack of sleep since the tour began or that the effects of the coffee had expired leaving him a little tired and cranky. Although, there was no objection that came to mind when she told him what she wanted to do. “No problem. Take at least three guards with you if you’re going to leave the property. Never mind, I’m going to make sure there are at least three.” He glanced at her wrist, where he expected she was would wear the same communication device that he was wearing. It was not there. Somehow, he was not surprised that she defied him until the very end.

Unwilling to start an argument while he was at a disadvantage, Luke turned away to contact the security team leader to convey her message then his stern warning not to let her out of their sight. At the end of the property line, where chest-high fence marked the perimeter, were curious gazes. Some pretended to be just passing by, while some others were on their toes with their eyes narrowed at the house. Royal guards politely – at least Luke imagined they were polite in doing their jobs – asked the on-lookers to be on their way. Rumors about the VIPs turned the Black farm into an instant local tourist spot.

“Did your family not receive their part of the prize money? My staff is verifying the fund transfer made in favor of your family’s newly made bank account.” He continued to watch the security team busying themselves with the unwelcomed guests. Their faces were obscured by the distance and the crops. “If proven invalid, I plan on paying for the stipend myself. This is embarrassing. We do not work this way.”

He started rolling the sleeve of his shirt up to his elbow the way he saw laborers did in movies he watched. “Your house needs to be renovated. I know of reputable real estate developers who can help. There is also the option of buying a new property. This house is just…” Plump purple bunches of grapes hanging in the midst of bright green leaves caught his attention as if it called to him to be harvested. The novelty of the farm was the property’s saving grace. But to somebody like Rhiane who grew up to such sights, he imagined how tiresome the scenery was. He could not imagine how it was possible to comfortably live in different states of repaired furniture, sewn curtains, and tattered rags.

Luke failed to find a less deprecatory word to describe the state of the house. If he owned such property and a handsome amount of reward was given to him, he would have no second thoughts about calling for a contractor to restore the house, then fill it with furniture so that it was livable. He was not fond of Hubert and Gerard, but he wished that either or both would step out the door and save him from completing the sentence, because it appeared as if Rhiane was waiting for him to do so.