Syrenrei

The Betrothed

"I'll tell you a secret," Rhiane leaned over once they were both seated inside the hovercraft comfortably. "It's similar to laughing at yourself so that it's easier to tolerate when others laugh at you. I suppose you haven't had that happen to you quite as often as most. Because I demean myself I steal that opportunity from others, or at least rob them of the pleasure of making me uncomfortable with their commentary," she shrugged. Perhaps it was conduct unbecoming a princess but it was, at least for now, her best line of defense in dealing with what would be alienation and whispered insults of the court. That Luke was put off by her self-depreciation was sincerely surprising. The former farmer had been relatively certain he had no respect for either her nor her ego and, if anything, would be an eager participant in all the games that had ladies and gentleman competing over who could make the most scathing criticism at her expense. Even before they had been formally introduced she had wagered no prince would be content with a peasant for a wife. Aristocracy did not even visit their village because they saw the poor as unworthy of even fleeting attention. As heir to the throne Luke's contempt was all but guaranteed. No matter what romantic fantasies other princess candidates harbored about princes, royal weddings, and rising to riches, Rhiane knew the simple fact she had been borne to the wrong mother and father, that she had never lived a life of luxury, would condemn her in the eyes of nobility.

It was this self-awareness of her position that had led her down a path of self-mockery and morbid humor. When managing her family farm she had been assertive, authoritative, and unflinching, though she always possessed a good sense of humor and could take a joke in good taste. Joining the contest changed her. No amount of bravado would make the social atmosphere more hospitable and so she had morphed into someone that suited her bleak future. Though she had not lost all her strength, she had abandoned her sense of self-preservation, embracing death with a reckless cavalier approach that had unnerved her brother and father and led to their estrangement. Her wit was used to make bitter remarks to shield hear from the attacks that would have otherwise caused emotional damage.

"I'll remember you gave me the option to back out, if you remember you were the one foolhardy enough to challenge me," she remarked as she glanced out the window to watch the landscape. One aspect of her personality had not been diminished in the last few months: her courage. It took true bravery to know the cruelty of the crown, to know there was no love waiting in your marriage, to know you would be despised, that you would be killed before your children were grown, and to accept that fate. Idly she wondered if the roles were reversed if Luke would be quite so daring as she had been. Military men and women went into war with the knowledge and understanding that they might be killed in action. She had certainty that she would. There was a saying among veterans that a man could prepare for their end but they were never actually ready for it. Rhiane begged to differ.

The hovercraft was parked atop the rock formation. Once the crown prince exited the vehicle she did the same although, instead of undressing, she did one complete rotation to take in the view. The princess elect had never been at such a high altitude outside of her hovercraft travels during the trials and recently. She drank in the view of pristine beaches, endless blue ocean, and the shady silhouette of flora as the sun descended closer to the horizon. Back at home she had watched the sunrise and occasionally the sunset, but they had not been as surreal an experience as this. More and more their exotic location made her feel as if she were having a vivid dream that would be interrupted when she was roused from her slumber.

"Ms. Black respectfully declines to keep her shirt on. You can be as prudish as you desire, but Ms. Black doesn't want any more wet clothes than necessary," she announced with a smirk and roll of her eyes. Without waiting for his objection she wiggled out of her pants, pulled off her jacket, and slid out of her blouse. She was not naked as she had offered previously- Rhiane still wore both undergarments which were only slightly more scandalous than swimwear might be depending on the design. Goosebumps rose on her bare arms and legs as she joined her fiance at the precipice that he consistently warned might invoke fear.

"Easier for you, maybe. If you let me drown, you'll have to do that interview alone, and then your mother will be so disappointed you'll end up with a one meter lease with the next girl," she teased. "I hope you're up to it, Lucius!" Rhiane took his right hand with her left and, with a crazed laugh like someone who had a wanton disregard for anything resembling caution, leapt off the cliff with her good leg bearing her weight for the jump. Prior to this moment she had not been a thrill-seeker. There were not enough hours in the day nor enough money in the bank to afford such a hobby. The rush of adrenaline as she fell into the pool below, however, was intoxicating.

The Betrothed

The cold water sent a shiver up her spine as it washed over her feet. Generally she favored the heat, simply because she was much more acclimated to working fields in sweltering weather, but Rhiane had no regrets for wading into the ocean until it covered her ankles. The silicone brace on her injured joint was chilled and the twisted muscle soothed by the refreshing liquid. It was not nearly as effective as an ice pack but it provided minor relief all the same. When the doctor and nurses had given her options for pain management she was certain they had not considered being whisked to an island just off the coast with winter approaching. The princess elect thought to bring to Luke's attention how unintentionally considerate he was being to her trivial impairment but ultimately decided against it. His ego was large enough without praising him over the beneficial byproducts of his selfish desires. Perhaps once he was actually Prince Charming- assuming that was even a possibility- she'd admit what personality traits or actions she admired.

"I am every bit as brave as I've said," Rhiane boasted, slightly irked by his doubt. Her gaze followed his finger towards the cliff as she very reluctantly let herself be led away from the shore. With her feet damp, but no longer submerged, it felt as if every granule of sand stuck to them. Rationally she knew that the hem of her pants had not become objectively colder yet the soaked edge of her clothing felt positively frigid as it rubbed against her skin. The beach had its appeal but was unforgiving to those that sought to depart its embrace. If they didn't have servants back at the castle she knew would be tasked with cleaning up every speak of the intrusive sand she imagined they would learn to hate the invasive substance. Once she had spilled salt in the kitchen. Days after she had swept the floors she could still feel its grit underfoot as if it had a persistent will of its own to wedge itself in the cracks and never leave.

"I promised you that I wouldn't lie to you," she stated as they arrived at the hovercraft. In the last few minutes her balance had improved though she still found it incredibly awkward to be on such an uneven surface with a brace tight on her limb. "You have to work a bit harder to become the most 'awesome' person I ever met, your highness- that doesn't come with just having a crown. Besides, I wouldn't dare to say your first name without your explicit permission so I couldn't repeat that sentence even if I wished to," she reminded him cheekily. That he was keeping her at arm's length regarding their given names had not been ignored even if his better spirits had made him slightly more congenial.

"I accept your challenge," Rhiane asserted as she opened the door and slid into her seat with steeled determination. She didn't rise to absolutely every dare that was laid in front of her but she had a hard time resisting most. It was a weakness she suspected that sometimes Luke himself shared in.

Truthfully she was worried. She did not think the crown prince would let her drown, at least not until the queen allowed him to be rid of her in a decade, but there was inherent danger regardless. The princess elect was putting her life in his hands. Once they hit the water they would be deep enough that she would, without knowing how to swim, probably sink if she could not manage to struggle to the surface. Luke would be responsible for hauling her back to safety no matter how desperately he wanted to be rid of her. Wryly she wondered what happened if he failed and she died to their foolishness. No one had briefed them on whether or not the implant would remain active if one of them was a corpse. There was a cavalier morbid joke on the tip of her tongue but she elected not to give voice to it. Once Luke inevitably slipped back into a sour mood she'd let loose her disconcerting sense of humor; there was an atmosphere at present she did not want to chase away, but if he was back to being the dictionary's descriptor of an arrogant ass there would be nothing to lose.

The Betrothed

She was still transfixed by the sand as the crown prince answered her questions. Silently she took note that Princess Callista, though warm and friendly on the night of the ball, was not someone she should ever entrust her secrets to. There was little that was kept from the queen and Rhiane had no illusions that her deceptions would fool the monarch as effectively as it did others. Still, she wouldn't make it easier to separate fact from fiction. That she had survived the contest without anyone discovering how to manipulate her was a testament to her convictions. The former farmer wasn't going to to let all her hard work be jeopardized no matter how desperately she yearned for a friendship inside the castle to keep her sane. Her brother and father offered no solace. She knew that if she wrote to them with apologies for actions she did not regret taking that, even if they forgave her, they would be more critical than compassionate of her struggles. The princess elect was more alone since winning the contest than she had ever been in her entire life.

"I wouldn't say that I know the reference of Godzilla, just that I actually paid attention when you said you weren't just any lizard," confessed. Luke's promise of being her Prince Charming was dubious at best but she didn't want to snub this golden opportunity. She took the offered arm and used it to stabilize herself on the uneven ground that was so soft and perplexing. Only once she felt properly balanced did she lift her eyes to the beach that spread out in front of them. Crystalline water sparkled under the late afternoon light as rays danced off its surface. Waves lapping at the shore made a peculiar sound she was certain she had never heard before. Everything seemed so strangely beautiful, so enchantingly exotic, it felt as if walking any closer might somehow ruin the imagery. Irrationally Rhiane worried that she was caught in the dream and one wrong step would puncture the fabric of the tapestry, jolting her back into the waking world.

"You must be really desperate to relax to accompany this not-quite-princess," she teased gently as she stumbled along. For once it was not her injured ankle that was causing her problems but how inexperienced she was with the loose sand underfoot. More than once she jostled against her escort as she started to adapt to how much more flexing of the toes was required and how easily the ground gave way underneath the ball of her foot. Rhiane chewed gently on her inner cheek as she tried not to become distracted by the scenery and focused on the task at hand. If they were going to be coming here in the future she couldn't rely on Luke indefinitely like a baby chick. The princess elect was a proud, confident woman, and she would not be conquered by anything as absurd as foreign terrain.

When they reached the edge of the water and stopped she lifted her eyes from the ground to the rolling white foam that washed over their toes. A smile spread over her features as she let the reality of this miniature vacation sink in. As far as the eye could see was the peaceful expanse of deep blue as the sun hung low in the sky. More than the sights she drank in the sounds of the island. The gentle crash of the tide on the shore and their conversation was all that she could hear; even the hovercraft had been powered down to silence. Luke's desire to keep this sanctuary a secret was selfish but completely understandable. The moment anyone knew of it was the moment it lost its tranquil allure.

"I'm just saying you have a reputation, your highness, and the people don't believe you spend all your time with female companions in such modesty," she explained with a touch of amusement. "Granted, I know I'm nothing like those women, but I just didn't envision you caring about whether we had swimsuits on a deserted island." As he so aptly noticed nudity was, in their arrangement, non-negotiable. The queen would have very limited patience about procuring an heir to throne after the wedding ceremony and any squeamishness they had about one another wouldn't be tolerated. Fortunately Rhiane was just was confident with her body as she appeared on broadcast. The shriveled walking corpses they called models might be thinner than she was but they suffered in other proportions that were required for her sultry figure.

"If you're sure you want to take on teaching me how to swim," she said with a little trepidation. His forewarning about his abilities as an instructor had not been forgotten in their short journey to the water's edge. Luke seemed particularly invested, however, in her happiness during this trip. She wasn't sure if it was because he legitimately wanted to share, because he was lonely, because he wanted someone else to see what he wanted to see, or if he was trying his damnedest to make sure she didn't rat out his retreat to his mother, but he was being nice and thoughtful.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

"I'll be fine," she murmured. The jump horizon had made her dizzy, disoriented, and confused, but it was not worse than their ascent into space that had thrown her completely unconscious and pushed her to the precipice of death. There was something depressing in the fact there was very little possibility their future could comparatively worse than what they had endured.

Craving physical affirmation of Rene's feelings the diplomat crawled into the soldier's lap and laid her head against his chest. A long curtain of aureate splendor hung behind her shoulders as she steadied her breathing to match his. Once they had the luxury of worrying about it she would need a trim; some of the tresses had been singed and created any unintentional layering effect at the ends. With her legs curled up on the sheets and her thighs upon his she felt comforted. He did not need to embrace her to have this soothing effect on his fiancee. Rene's touch alone was comforting. That he was here, and alive, and cared for her was an anchor of security among the looming threats of a haunting past and war-stricken world.

The late Marchess Falia and Marquise Falia had not been as cold as other members of the aristocracy. Young nobles were rarely directly raised by their parents. Servants and education professionals reared the elite youths from birth, when they were monitored by anywhere from one nanny to a small team of them, to their last year of higher study, when they were coached by personal attendants, tutors, and counselors in politics alongside more traditional studies. The higher the stature, the more emphasis that was put on discipline, and the more distant the family might be so as to encourage independence and emotional control. Certainly some broke these ranks. One bloodline of Dukes and Duchesses were notoriously enmeshed from one generation to the next. Solae had once been thankful that she had ever been hugged or her brow kissed when some of her peers never had. Now she was greedy for more than had been offered to her. Even Lord Armon had been a product of his environment and, when not trying to instigate intercourse, didn't waste time with soft romantic reassurances like cuddling. Like her other male suitors he had shown restraint. Perhaps it was because of their situation that Rene allowed himself to be so tender and vulnerable. The marquise found it much more likely, however, that they were both rebelling against societal expectations in their own way both inside and outside their relationship.

"I would like to reiterate my suggestion that Lady Solae retires for the evening," Mia cooed with her typical inappropriate sensual tone. While she actually meant sleep her intonation was suggestive of a repetition of the events that followed the linguist's earlier shower.

"Tell me about the Du Quentains," Solae said to Rene, clearing ignoring he sage wisdom of Mia.

The artificial intelligence system was not wrong. When her companion had been in the Rev Chamber, which had healed him and also conveyed the benefit of slumber, she had been engrossed in Argon's systems erasing all evidence of his Syshin slaves. The stars outside made it impossible to determine time but she had been awake longer than a standard day she was sure. Had that not been the case there would have still been a strong argument for seizing the opportunity for sleep- a near death experience was indicative of a body that was under strain and duress. Sooner rather than later she would need to give it respite if she wanted to keep her strength.

"I'll find out about them if I am going to research the courts. What are your parents like- are they alive? Do you have siblings? Cousins? Are you or were you close? What did they think of the charges against you?" Not only was she curious about the lineage she may eventually marry into, there was the chance, however small, that Amellia was not murdered because someone sought to kill her alone. It may not have been any coincidence that the chevalier was framed- he could have been the real target all along. More than once a noble had benefited from the disgrace from another. Solae felt guilty asking Rene with an ulterior motive but she had to know who benefited from his downfall just as much as she needed to know who benefited from Amellia's death. The first focus of her investigation would be both the Siennaferaras and du Quentains.

The Betrothed

"Careful, Godzilla, you're starting to sound more like Prince Charming than lizard," she warned without the typical biting criticism behind her voice. Rhiane was teasing the heir to the throne for expressing even a passing desire for her to enjoy the promised sunset since they spent the better part of the day either inadvertently or purposefully irritating one another. Her words were hyperbolic but not insincere. Luke was charismatic when he had a mind to be and it easy to imagine why he was the royal heartthrob. People on a whole were willing to look past personality defects if the person in question was highly attractive. The few times that his highness lowered himself, albeit briefly, to anything approaching casual congeniality was made all that more magnetic because he was handsome. It was shallow but the former farmer had long ago accepted that humanity had done little to evolve beyond looking at the exterior and judging a person according to their symmetry or body proportions.

"Change of clothes on an island with no one else around- how unexpectedly modest of you, your highness," she remarked with a raised brow. Swimsuits were practical and she had nothing against their use, not that she ever had one, but she was also not opposed to nudity on a whole. Most of the rural lands harbored pervasively conservative views that made them more misogynistic than the cities. It was this adherence to traditions of centuries past that had made her struggle more than she ought to to establish herself as a female farmer with two male relative employees. Rhiane had never felt bound to those societal expectations and had been naked before several men that she had no inclination to see after their night of passion had concluded. The media had assumed that the princess elect, despite her sultry appearance, had been a product of her environment without the streak of rebellion she possessed.

"I assure you I could jump off that cliff, though, without panicking. Unless you have a doctor lying in wait at the bottom of the water there isn't anything that I fear out there," she asserted. What she was dancing around delicately was that no one with a well-developed survival instinct would have ever entered the contest. Even the optimistic candidates had to admit the chances of their death being delayed more than a decade in the future were woefully slim. Not every fellow peer had been a daredevil but they had been on a whole a brave lot. No matter how firmly their eyes were on the prize, each woman that aimed for the crown had to accept and be prepared for their eventual murder, and they had to pass enough psychological assessments that even the queen and judges were confident they would not become psychologically unraveled as their time drew near. Mental fortitude had been just as important a quality as physical endurance.

The princess elect wasn't sure how to respond to the offering of teaching her how to swim. While she didn't want to reject him as a swim instructor she couldn't imagine it would be remotely pleasant for him to teach a lowly commoner such as herself. Then again, Luke did not strike her as someone who made generous proposals flippantly. Either he truly believed it to be necessary for survival (a statement she found ludicrous for both farmer and future princess) or was motivated by unknown reasons to make certain she went into the water. Not even the image manager would care that she was unable to swim. If anything she suspected such a deficiency would be spun into another facet of the Cinderella narrative, proof of how her poverty made her one of the masses, and that no amount of wealth would transform her completely beyond those roots.

Despite her nap earlier Rhiane had begun to doze off again in the comfort of the hovercraft as they passed over the more familiar landscape of rolling hills, plowed fields, and grazing livestock. It was her fiance's words that jolted her out of her drowsy half-sleep and made her sit upright to get a better view. Rhiane had read how vast the ocean was but seeing the seemingly endless stretch of blue towards the horizon was more breathtaking than she had thought it could be. Her seat belt protested as she lifted off the plush cushions to crane her neck and gawk at the expanse. Luke had tossed out the words 'island' and 'sea' and she had known what he meant but not in the same way she did now. Her breath caught in her throat as she spotted cresting waves and the movement of tides beneath them.

"This is where you go every time you need to relax?" she asked incredulously as they began their descent towards the donut. Everything, from the guest quarters of the palace, to the breakfast options that were longer to her arm, to the private pool in Luke's suite, had seemed so absurdly luxurious it was divorced from the reality of her former life. These did not compare to an uninhabited oasis only frequented by the crown prince that allegedly had a cliff suited for driving and unobstructed view of dusk. Rhiane's head spun as she realized how vast the differences were between herself and the aristocracy. They were not of different worlds but of different galaxies.

They landed, Luke yanked off his boots, and came to her side of the hovercraft presumably to help her out. Bewildered by his almost kind disposition she slipped off her flats and exited the vehicle with wonder at the soft feel of sand beneath her feet. The closest she had come to a similar texture before this moment was standing in the dirt of a barren patch of land close to the road but still within the borders of her property. The foreign sensation wasn't unpleasant but it was strange how different it was to the firm footing of land. "Why wouldn't you bring someone here?" she asked, staring down at the granules between her toes and the remnants of broken shells that had been washed ashore some time ago. "There has to have been someone in your life you wanted to share this amazing place with," she breathed as she reached down to feel the sand with her fingers. It was clear she would be content to stay in that very spot rather than exploring what else the island had to offer as she was hypnotized by the newness of this small trip.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

Solae had been prepared for the tragedy that was verbally unraveled for her benefit by Rene. What she had not expected, however, was how jealous she found herself to be of the deceased Amellia. Petty as her feelings were, and as well as she kept them suppressed throughout his tale, she could not deny their existence.

Even by the strictest standards of the Stellar Empire Solae was one of the upper echelons of the aristocracy. What she had, however, paled in comparison to what late Amellia enjoyed before her untimely death. The marquise was no cousin to the empress, had not been appointed to the illustrious station of handmaiden, and had not resided within the walls of the palace proper. Both of her parents had been transferred to New Concordia out of want of distance from the primary planets; they were tired of being one of numerous noble families and instead sought to be big fish in the comparatively tiny pond of a smaller sector. Quietly they also knew that a remote location would also allow them more latitude in exploring certain hobbies and proclivities that would be noticed immediately in the courts where everyone was allegedly always watching. Regardless of their rationale, the Falia name carried a certain prestige that was undeniable, yet it had not afforded them the high honors held once by Amellia Siennaferara.

And more than being envious of handmaiden's accomplishments, she was envious of the love story that had been sung before she had been known to the soldier before her now. Solae did not expect, want, nor need to be Rene's first relationship, but to hear in aching detail of how enraptured the couple had been with each other stung. Much like a spouse of a widow might have insecurities about the husband that came before so she was having anxiety brewing in her heart. The two traveling in the Bonaventure had but a week and yet Amellia had been courted by Rene for an entire year. A year of dates, of romantic overtures, of moonlit strolls, of blissful days filled with the deepest of joys in finding a mate for one's soul. Rationally she knew she ought not to compare but it was impossible not to draw parallels. Suddenly Solae felt as if she were an intruder on a enchanting fantasy, complete with a heroine perfectly suited to the hero, to which she could never measure. She withdraw physically, pulling the sheet around her nude form for comfort as she tried not to be the interloper coveting the things of the dead.

"I wasn't asking for permission," she asserted with a sharper undertone than she meant. Rene was hurting; this was his past, not hers, and so she took a deep breath to stifle her bruised ego. The diplomat leapt to her feet, still utilizing the chartreuse silk as a makeshift garment, as she paced to expend the excess energy she now possessed from warring emotions. It was Rene that had lost perhaps the only true love. It was Rene that was accused of murder. It was Rene that had been forced into the Marines after he lost everything of value in his life.

"Lady Solae, I do not recommend walking so close to the jump horizon. It is my duty to remind you that, given your physical condition and Argon's records, you should rest to more efficiently recover. Would you like me to-" Mia chastised lightly.

"Thank you for your concern, Mia," the linguist interrupted, "but I am fine." Her assessment was subjective at best given the fading bruises, healing welts caused by proximity to heat, sutured forehead, and thigh wound that had re-opened no less than twice, but she was not in any imminent danger. Reflection on how atrocious her injuries must appear to a man that had once successfully wooed a handmaiden made her retreat to an opposite wall against which she leaned lightly.

"I don't dispute if I started my investigation on Capella I would be in imminent danger, but how far away we are from official imperial outposts can be our boon for accessing your records without notice, just as they are a hindrance to our reporting of the rebellion. If the murderer takes note of me they will have quite the distance to traverse before reaching us- and we are already in hiding. This is the best situation imaginable to look into this, Rene. Consider all the obstacles the true killer must overcome: conjuring an excuse for an unexpected lengthy journey, not having ample time for planning, locating us while we are actively evading rebels, coming close to New Concordia which they would have an obligation to report the revolt on, and then dealing with the military rushing in to crush the coup. There will much scrutiny after this is all over, Rene. The empress will demand answers as to who was on the planet, or near it, when the first assault was made, and each faithful servant thereafter. It will be hard to bury the truth." That anyone could commit homicide at the foot of the Spire suggested they could do so anywhere without notice. To her own ears her theory was not as encouraging as she hoped, but safety was not a guarantee for a scion that slaughtered a handmaiden and eluded every form of surveillance.

"There is someone out there, Rene, who got away with it, for reasons we don't know. It's possible that they were emboldened by framing you successfully. What is to stop them from continuing down that dark path? Could you live with knowing we had a chance to find them, to stop them, and elected not take it? What if the answers are there and we remain ignorant by choice- does that not make us complicit in whatever blood is spilled until the true criminal is imprisoned or longer among the living?" Solae shook her head slowly. "I can open doors I doubt you can before. I have a moral obligation to do this, Rene, one that I can not pretend does not exist. It may be too little too late but I believe in justice. If there is even the smallest chance I can keep someone else from suffering from the same fate as you and Amellia, or that I can salvage your name so that you could find happiness if I don't make it to safe space, or that I can expose the empress to the dangers that must be close to her, I have to seize it."

"I'll start by combing through the news in the months afterwards," she began, hoping that if he saw her approach he would see the merit and be less panicked over the inherent danger. "If we assume there was premeditation and motive then there was a desired outcome that is hidden in the changes of the imperial court. Once I can establish a timeline I will be able sort out any peculiarities and also pinpoint how you and Amellia would have affected the various outcomes if at all. The officers that interrogated you did not have luxury of waiting to see how the ebb and flow of society rippled in the wake of the loss. From there I will move from the outside inwards. My first few searches will be broad, and then I will narrow my focus, so that I will be as minimally detectable as possible."

The Betrothed

"A cat," Rhiane confirmed. Luke wasn't truly engaged in conversation but she seized the opportunity to converse on something that wasn't controversial. They already had enough arguments to last the rest of the week and this was a docile enough subject that she felt confident in continuing without raising ire. Sooner or later the princess elect hoped she could find common ground with her fiance. While it was true that neither of them could affect the inevitability of their marriage after the public announcement, they could at least make their arrangement easier if neither found the other's presence grating. The first step towards that was an air of congeniality fostered by discussion on more mundane topics- although that was increasingly hard to find given their dispositions.

"We couldn't afford a pet but there has always been a feral cat colony in the area. One of them still comes by the house. Always liked animals," she remarked somewhat absently, "because of how honest they are. The feral that swings by the farm would crawl in my lap one day and sneer at me the next for no apparent reason. I can't trust Dad or Gerald to keep a water bowl for it filled, so I hope Sebby remembers once he moves in. He was always dependable." Despite calling the cat tempestuous and criticizing its hot and cold reactions to her, there was an undeniable fondness in her voice for the feline.

Despite her apparent inclination to have a pet, which she compared herself to much to the crown prince's chagrin, she did not ask for one. The princess elect had noticeably not asked for anything tangible that could be given to her. It was true one of her major motivations for entering and winning the contest was the sizeable stipend for her family, but she had no discernible desire for wealth herself. There had been multiple junctures where another might have requested if not demanded material possessions: gowns for her wardrobe, luxurious soaps for her bath, expensive jewelry to compliment her attire, artwork for her bedchambers, or even specific food at their lunch. The most interest she had shown was selecting certain garments from the already composed closet to wear. All that Rhiane had were things given to her and to date the one that she had expressed the most excitement over was the thoughtful gift of cannolis in the restaurant. Silly though it might be to Luke she valued not the price but the sentiment behind the offering. She had expected nothing of the fellow patron yet he knew her, remembered her interview, and had sent her a trifle without desire of reciprocation.

Rhiane was curious as to why Luke excused himself on the way out of the suite but elected not to interrogate him. Instead of barraging him with questions she kept toying with shifting her weight such that when he emerged, leading her to a hovercraft, she had struck a balance that left her only minimally leaning on the man for support. Though the pain was subsiding with the medication she was still happy to be seated.

"I think it would be odd if I wasn't a daredevil given the circumstances," she replied casually as she stared out a window. The princess elect was not trying to be impolite but rather was perpetually mystified by the sights allowed by the palace and air travel. Her eyes traversed over the landscape in open wonder and a few times she lifted out of her seat just slightly to watch the ground whirl by in a flash. "I'd take you up on the offer of cliff diving but..." Rhiane hesitated and sighed, falling back against the upholstered support. There would be ridicule following her next admission she was certain.

"I've never seen the sea. A farmer's idea of a vacation is sitting in the house during winter when there isn't anything to plow, seed, or harvest until spring. Never had the funds for travel even a couple hours away much less anything more. Only trips I ever took were to suppliers- no sightseeing." Looking away and swallowing hard she continued to the tantalizing morsel for mockery. "I don't know how to swim. Didn't have the time, like most things, and the people with river access aren't friendly, not that the current is really conducive to swimming. Can't say I'd be much fun to cliff dive with." Rhiane was embarrassed. While she would welcome swim lessons she could not imagine it would be encouraged when her schedule would be full of either appearances, interviews, charitable events, or learning how she ought to properly perform at her role of princess. Were she even able to find the time a teacher would be more challenging. Her first favor from the queen would not be the hiring of a swim instructor.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

Solae laughed lightly as she rolled on her back and stared up at the unremarkable barren ceiling of the captain's quarters. Obtaining decorations, such as paintings or tapestries, was low on their priority list. The Bonaventure had just been cleaned but she was already dreaming of what trivial disagreements they might have over domestic affairs. They had spent so much time trying simply to survive, to evade the forces of the rebellion, to not be traumatized by all they had been made to endure psychologically, that there was much they did not know of one another. Ultimately the nuances of his likes and dislikes were inconsequential in the grand scheme of their relationship. There was no difference of opinion that would make the marquise even consider parting from the soldier that had repeatedly saved her life. Still the scion wanted to know more of her fiance no matter how irrelevant. Idly she wondered what paint colors he might object to or what styles of art he had fondness for. The more mischievous side thought of provoking him by making purchases after they landed without his input and then gauging his reaction. It spoke to how hard they had struggled that she looked forward to seeing him upset over something horribly mundane for a change.

"I wasn't completely honest on New Concordia," she admitted with a sigh. "I didn't give all of the liquid assets from the plantation away. Some of the funds were shuffled around a few times to make them difficult, if not impossible, to trace and placed into an account with an alias. They won't be able to touch most of my wealth, that's too well-secured, but I couldn't rule out the possibility they could monitor the trusts for hints of where I've escaped to. Any expenditure could tip them off."

There were several reasons Solae was absolutely certain she was not monetarily poor. The rebellion was unknown to the Stellar Empire as far as she knew and they would want to keep it that way until they were absolutely prepared for full-on war. Even declaring the murdered nobles dead would alert the appropriate departments that there was something foul afoot in their sector. While those on New Concordia itself could pillage and ransack homes, there were significantly more obstacles in getting to the currency held in the name of anyone of stature. More than once Solae herself had trouble verifying her own identity for access. Obtaining her inheritance would be a notoriously lengthy process that would require multiple hearings, enough documentation to make one's head spin, and a dozen sworn attestations. There were many things that the empire arguably did wrong but failing to prevent their upper echelons from fraud was not one of them.

"I know you disapprove, but desperate times call for desperate measures," she explained, "like becoming a pirate." The jest softened the blow of her robbing depraved slavers. Without looking she could tell the virtuous male was frowning at the lows she had sunk to but neither of their hands were clean. It was not as if they actually had a legal reason to do even half of what they had done on the planet they had just escaped the surface of. "It will help us afford some of the things we need, but since we don't know what else we'll run into before we make it to a functional communication array or a fortified Imperial outpost, we should probably find temporary employment on Panopontus. My hair can't hold dye and we don't have any wigs so it might be hard for me to hold down a job without attracting unwanted attention. If you don't mind scouting out what we're dealing with I'll stay on the ship and start installing some upgrades for Mia. It's not something I've done before but I am sure she can walk me through the basics."

"That would be much appreciated, Lady Solae," Mia purred seductively. If they had not known that it was an artificial intelligence system responding to her offer it would have almost have sounded as if it was a lady of the night responding to a proposition. Adjusting Mia's settings to not be so overtly sensual was rather tempting- but she wasn't sure she wouldn't miss the inappropriate humor of her intonations. She wasn't truly sentient but in her own way Mia had become almost human to the couple. Modifying her too extensively felt like performing a lobotomy to Solae.

"And there's something else important I want to discuss with you," the marquise said as she turned back onto her side. The solemn expression of her visage and timbre of her voice suggested it was a grave matter. They were already in lockstep as to the topic of marriage and children were a biological impossibility given Rene's sterility. What she sought to address was just as significant to their future, however, and she was under no illusions as to how receptive her consort would be as to this particular plan. "Panopontus should have a library with an archive. It won't be as extensive as anything on a primary planet of the central sector, but it should go back at least a decade, and have news as recent as the last month. I'd like to start looking into the accusations that were made against you. I realize that you have moved past those events, but I can't stand idle and not try to exonerate you. If you were in my situation I can't imagine you not meddling," she pointed out.

Solae didn't quite know where to start investigating a murder. Rene had not told her any of the details and so she would have to dive into records by his name alone to find the date or the deceased. There were inherent risks that, even on a remote planet, someone might take note of the surgical precision of her focus and access. But she was incapable of pretending that she would let his soiled name stand. She could be killed tomorrow, or the day after, or in a week, and any gains she made into clearing the charges would help her soul rest in any afterlife that might await. Were they both to survive the rebellion there was no chance of building lives for themselves, much less a family, until there was a more positive resolution. Even if Solae wouldn't admit it aloud, she also could use a distraction from the death and destruction of the last week that she had even less control over. Shifting to a new problem could provide clarity in the relief if provided from the Duke's machinations.

And as painful as it might be to have Solae poking around his past, she wanted to help Rene more than the Syshin of Amber Horizon. She believed in his innocence. She wanted everyone to see the profoundly handsome, inherently noble, courageous, and honest man that was before her at this moment.

The Betrothed

Luke was annoyed with her- again- but this development was not new. Because she had been frustrated she had turned his words against him as if she were secretly a masochist seeking out her own punishment in his sharp words. Nothing beneficial could truly come out of antagonizing him into a more foul mood than he already was. Regardless of either of their feelings on the matter they were now bound together for at least a decade while she was paraded around the kingdom and made to bear him heirs. Rationally she knew it would be easier to live a partially conjoined life if the impression she had on him was positive rather than negative. Her quality of life could be improved or made miserable by his whims once he was crowned and she was less visible to the public eye. Once they had offspring she would also need to consider that any resentment he had towards her could be imputed to a son or daughter. If they were to too closely resemble the manifestation of all his disdain then they would be damned on her actions rather their own. Mentally Rhiane chastised herself as she gently bit her tongue in a reminder that fighting Luke at every pass was doing her no favor.

"Yes, I am used to pain and suffering, but that is not the reason for my reluctance," she sighed. That he expressed even stoic concern for her person utterly defeated her even if she did not voice as much. Turning towards the table she took the glass in one hand and the capsule in the other. The crown prince had not been apologetic, and his sincerity about not wanting her to continue to feel any physical torment might have been a farce, but she would feel guilt in the unlikely event her pride smothered this glimpse of compassion from him. Gerald had always told her she was much more soft emotionally than she would ever admit and he was not wrong. Their family had a theory that the stronger the barriers a person built around them the greater chances they were protecting a vulnerable heart inside. Such an opinion wasn't extended to the nobility and royalty but Rhiane had to admit it wasn't outside the realm of possibility that Luke had empathy.

The princess elect's hand trembled slightly as she popped the pill in her mouth and gulped down the water after it. Both with the doctor and earlier that morning she had taken medication without so much as a flinch, but both time had been in front of an audience. With the medical staff she was required to be complacent, obedient, and without reproach in her composure or else she would jeopardize her standing. With the attendants earlier the summoning of a tablet was an excuse to delay their departure and had been in another high pressure scenario where she could not dwell upon historical parallels. Rhiane had pledged Luke honesty in private and she had not meant that to be with words alone; her actions would be just as truthful in the event her words were insufficient.

"You are correct, I do not want nor expect you to lie when we're alone," she acknowledged. While she wanted to be civil she didn't want pretenses. It was this battle of wills she already found tiring. Were she always to have the worst expected of her she knew eventually she would stop trying to disprove the belief. Rhiane was strong in both body and mind but not enough to be her own champion for respect eternally without respite. That neither of them had privacy exacerbated matters. What fortitude she had to fight his misconceptions would not hold fast for a decade with an implant keeping them within 10 meters of one another; she'd be lucky if she didn't bitterly lash out after a few months of insults.

"And besides, you don't have to worry about playing with my emotions," she said as she stood up. Tentatively she placed weight on both legs, shifting it back and forth, as she made certain the overexerted leg had recovered and that the injured ankle could bear the strain with no adverse effects. Whatever drug she had been fed was not instantaneous but she hoped it would not just alleviate her pain but reduce swelling around the joint in question. "My mother and father loved each other deeply until the day she died and my brother found that one in a million in the middle of nowhere. I'm sure you sailed through all your accelerated statistics classes with comparable ease to me, but even I know my odds are slim to none. The only thing that could play with my emotions is a cat- we had one that wandered around the farm and was a tempestuous beast," she jested lightly.

The Betrothed

After her unusual dream in which a part herself, disguised as her dead brother Edwin, suggested her more conscious self ought to take the medicine, she had been persuaded to do so. It was Luke's response to her innocent question about his work that chilled any desire she had to be agreeable. Even as princess elect she realized that the crown prince would have tasks that were not her business, something she accepted even before she won the contest and gained her status formally, but there was not a need to rudely respond to a vague query. It was frustrating that she was trying to be polite and yet he lacked decency. The former farmer pinched the cartilage of her upper nose between her eyebrows and tried not to let her emotions get the best of her. That he was able to converse with dignitaries of any nation without falling to petty insults spoke to how deeply the issue Luke had was with her on a personal level. Some of the candidates for her position would have counted themselves lucky to be such a unique focus of his contempt. Rhiane would have preferred to not be special at all.

That Luke had defaulted back to his aggravating attitude was not a surprise. What was unexpected was that he wanted to go somewhere 'nice and relaxing.' The princess elect knew the only reason that she was invited along to any location in his presence was the implant that had effectively made her into baggage he was forced to cart around. Why he had this sudden inclination was the true mystery. Luke had been insistent about the need to get work done and, seeing as she had done nothing more than sleep while he did, she could not be blamed for being a distraction. Idly she wondered if the court of public opinion was suddenly weighing more heavily on him than he might admit. Whatever the cause for his need to leave she doubted he would divulge it her willingly if at all.

Already struggling with the issue of the capsule she was enraged when he opened her hand, told her to be a good girl, and patted her cheek condescendingly. She watched as he turned and walked into a closet and was sorely tempted to crawl in the opposite direction. Not much could get through to Luke but the pain of the nanotechnology certainly could. Not many would respond to belittling with physical agony, especially if it imparted to themselves the same torment, but on this Rhiane had the slight upper hand. Not only could she brace herself for impact, and did she have a slight edge due to her gender's tolerance on an evolutionary level, she had learned to endure out of necessity for years. Luke might have had a stint in the military but she doubted that he had fear, neglect, or poverty that coerced him into labor no matter how sick or injured.

Fortunately for them both she was able to cool her temper. The princess elect put down the pill with a slightly shaking hand as she tried hard not to dwell on her memories. They had never gotten so far as to have the information on how both her mother and brother could have been cured. Even after they passed she did not know if an injection, or tablet, or set of transfusions would have saved their lives. By her own admission it was an irrelevant detail to fixate on but she could not help but imagine that this dose could have been the beginning of a regimen. Considering this particular pain medication had come from the royal doctor the price might have been comparable to that of rescuing peasants from the brink of death. Rhiane shuddered slightly and squeeze her eyes shut for a moment to chase away her morbid focus.

"Oh, of course your highness," she drawled as she opened her eyes and turned away from the pill and glass of water that waited on the bedside table. "I will make it a point in my interview to make certain everyone is aware that you have requested I continue to refer to you exclusively as your royal highness. I wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea. Don't you think your mother will be pleased to know that I still know my place in our arrangement?" The princess elect knew what she was proposing would do anything but appease the queen. To use honorifics on broadcast would all but declare that their romance was a farce. No true boyfriend or fiance would make such a formal demand. Not only would it expose their charade, Rhiane knew that it would also give the masses the cold truth, leaving little doubt in their minds as to whether or not their crown prince thought himself too elevated to even hold hands with the best of what their stature had to offer.

"Didn't you tell me yourself how I ought not to trust anyone? Taking this medication, or following you obediently, that smells of trust. I can't stop you from carrying me wherever you intend to go but if we're not going to have the pretense of civility I can make it as unpleasant for you as it is for me." She folded her arms and waited for what she was certain would be more derogatory remarks while evading any explanation.