Satisfaction filled his chest not because Luke enjoyed the stolen moment of intimacy with the princess elect, but because he felt her stiffen under his touch. Yes, muscles were prone to a momentary freeze due to a pleasant surprise, and she did seem surprised. Luke, however, had reasons to believe that it was not the pleasure of his romantic advances that had rendered the commoner both speechless and motionless. Rhiane, of all people, understood that that the crown prince was tolerating her presence only because staying with her was the least of all evils that the queen could unleash upon her heir. If she was being her charismatic self, she would have at least said or done something that would add to the story that they were making the public believe, but that she froze for the second time after he kissed her made the crown prince a little suspicious.

The double doors were opened and closed by the attendants and the couple stepped back out into the present. Gone were the meticulous golden details and judgmental stares of the men and women painted behind gilded frames. The well lit clean smooth lines of the modern world greeted them. Luke exhaled as if he was holding the air far too long in his chest. He never did like rooms in the castle that were decorated as such.

However, as soon as they were outside, Rhiane almost forcefully disentangled herself from him while at the same time questioning his actions. The force in her voice that sounded like anger stopped the crown prince. It was not the restrained or even thinly veiled anger, but it as the emotion in its purest form. If she were a different woman or that they were arguing under different circumstances, Luke would have felt offended by her reaction, but given that his objective was to torment her, he thought that everything was working to his favor. He was doing the right thing, pushing the correct buttons.

Despite the flash of anger on her pretty face, or maybe because of it, Luke harbored a baffled expression that was uncharacteristically him. He had always been confident even when he knew he was wrong. “What wasn’t necessary?” The crown prince asked, provoking her. Then, without giving her a chance to clarify herself, planted another stolen kiss on her temple. “This? Was this not necessary?” There was a playful grin on his face as he whispered the words, as he wrapped an arm around her mid section. He tried to walk her to the direction of the transport to their residence.

She was eager to show the kingdom that they were falling in love, wasn’t she? Well, Luke thought nobody would believe that the player Prince Alessandro would be satisfied in a relationship that was not at least physical.

"You know damn well!" she objected just as he planted his lips on her temple in yet another unwelcome kiss. Now that he had provoked her a second time her cheeks flushed with ruddy color and she jerked away reflexively. Although it was clear to her he was doing this to get a rise out of her- as someone actually innocent wouldn't dare do the exact thing they theorized someone was opposed to them doing- she didn't immediately know the reason why. There had been no glaring missteps in her interview and she had performed exactly as she had 'forewarned.' Had she let the details of his private island slip or directly contradicted Queen Camilla's assertion he was on a mission during the engagement ball she would have anticipated this elementary school form of torment. Very little had changed in their relationship since before the broadcast, however, and his behavior had not been so bizarre prior. Rhiane was tempted to believe he was being impishly aggravating simply because he had deduced how unsettling she found public displays of affection and childishly wanted to seize the opportunity.

As the princess elect drew away there was a myriad of emotions that fluttered across her features. Not only was she unmistakably angry at his intrusion on her personal space she was also embarrassed. The brazen pink that spread to her ears spoke to a woman who did not entertain this sort of intimate gesture and was both bashful and flustered. Present, but more muted, was a flash of fear-induced panic. It was not nearly as profound as when she had been in the company of the royal doctor but it was still apparent to the perceptive. Rhiane was furious her preferences weren't being respected, she was innocently shy around such silly little expressions that could be construed as romantic, and she was inwardly terrified of love. She had seen what love- true love- could do to a person. Hubert Black had nearly drowned in his marital bliss and then died a waking death when his wife wasted away in their home. If both her father and brother were lucky enough to find soulmates than the laws of probability dictated it was nigh impossible she would find anyone she could adore the same way. To save herself from heartbreak she erected walls around herself and imposed rules to keep from anyone entertaining the thought she was available in such a capacity.

In her mind she had convinced herself this was for the best.

"Stop!" she insisted in another low hiss. Pride wouldn't allow her to acknowledge the colour of her countenance was jarringly different than that of her hands. "Save it for the women you actually intend to woo, I'm very aware I'm not one of them and I don't intend to be. Unless there's an audience for us to act for you have no reason to touch me like that or pretend... pretend there is anything between us besides a political arrangement," she said as she cleared her throat. Luke was a smart man. Though he had the benefit of an education only the wealthy could obtain she knew he was not a dunce. Not only had the queen bred with a man that had exemplary mental facilities, she knew that she would not name an heir that was a fool, and not all of Luke's success could be the result of greased palms. It wouldn't take long for him to deduce that while he was gallivanting around having dates with the premise of intimacy her entanglements had been purely physical by arrangement, which meant her defense for actual courtship was low, both with himself and others.

"No more kissing unless it's for the camera," she tried to demand as she continued to step back from him. In her determination not to be swept into an embrace she was getting perilously far, pushing boundaries of the implant, which had been temporarily forgotten. "I'm sure you're just as invested in making sure neither one of us gets the wrong idea, aren't you? Obviously we'll share a bed in more than a platonic manner eventually but no more," she took a deep breath as she squashed some of the strange sensations in her stomach, "doing whatever it is you're doing now."

“What am I doing now?” He cocked his head to one side, feigning an innocent look, which probably would not work because of the spark of mischief that brightened his eyes paired with a cheeky grin that would have melted a thousand women’s hearts.

Castillo di Firenze, in all its glory, had a vast amount of floor area that even when it employed hundreds of citizens and housed the queens most trusted nobles, it was never crowded. The hallway, for instance, was thankfully empty at that hour. The double doors remained shut as the production crew packed-up the equipment while the director, Jonas, and Ms. Viscomi were probably doing a post mortem of the broadcast. Luke doubted that his and the princess elect’s voices could penetrate the concrete walls. However, with the increasing volume of his fiancée’s voice, any curious passer-by would overhear the conversation. That somebody might be spying on them was not among his concerns that night.

When the princess elect forcefully tore her body away from its contact with Luke’s, the latter did not protest. Instead, he remained where he stood while amusing himself with the fruits of his actions flashing on the farmer girl’s face. Gone was the confidently charismatic woman in front of the cameras, who, in another life would have inadvertently caught the prince’s attention. In her place was a doppelganger that panicked at Luke’s half-hearted attempt at flirting. Her cheeks were bright pink, just a few shades lighter than the color of the roses she cradled on her chest. She was speaking in a voice which pitch had climbed a notch. Her feet were taking her farther and farther from him. Luke was not a sadist, but her obvious discomfort brought a cheeky grin on his face.

“For somebody who did not even bat an eyelash at the prospect of getting naked with a stranger, you are being prude, Ms. Black.” Luke unclasped his gadget from the wrist. He raised it to his face and perhaps she would be able to deduce, though no camera was visible at the back end of the device that faced her, that he had just snapped a photo of her crimson face. Satisfied, he placed the gadget back where it belonged. Then, with a few short gestures, an image of the stolen photograph was hovered a few inches above the black band for her to see. “Has anybody ever told you that you look lovelier when you blush?” Wooing, as she called whatever she thought he was doing, was more than just the touching of skin or lips. The most meaningful of relationships would always start with words, and if hew as not allowed to torment her with his body, then he would do so with his mind.

Therefore, he avoided taking the bait, refusing to acknowledge what he had been trying to accomplish since that morning, which was to make sure that she didn’t get the wrong idea. For the purpose of his petty revenge mission, he was willing to forego his values as a gentleman – whatever that meant. “If you are looking like that or acting like a lady worthy of my mother’s crown like you did earlier tonight, I cannot promise that I can hold myself back from wanting to be near you and kiss you.” He shrugged, tentatively taking a step towards her, like he was approaching a scared kitten. If she saw his advances as a threat and ran the opposite direction, they were both in trouble. “Hardly my fault, isn’t it?"

Rationally there was nothing dangerous about the photo that Luke had just snapped of the flushed-face Rhiane. By all appearances he had only taken it for his own amusement and nothing more; however, if he did release it to the public in some devious plan it would not negatively impact her image. If anything it would only boost the perception that the strong farmer was relatable, that she had weaknesses that were endearing rather than compromising, and that she was truly an empathetic voice to the masses. Frustrated as she was it could even convince a non-believer that there was a genuine blossoming romance between the crown prince and his fiance. The brunette was humiliated, however benign the portrait might be to her reputation, and continued to backpedal from the swaggering royal.

"No one has told me that, no, because it isn't true," she protested. From both the tenor of her voice and her body language he could discern she was skeptical about his sincerity, though it did succeed in keeping her face a brilliant shade of pink. With all the men and women at the engagement ball she had been certain of their deception. Rhiane had no illusions about what they really felt about her. Luke, however, had sent her enough mixed messages that she was not able to completely write off the possibility he felt a level of attraction that would make her uneasy. Unlike her he had dalliances with the other sex that were more than just physical flings. The most unflattering tabloids had conceded that the prince was not a stranger to romance beyond one night stands.

"This is a business arrangement," she pointed out as she found herself against a wall. Cursing under her breath she slid along it as he advanced slowly. Had she had a better understanding of the floor plan for the palace she might have been more tempted to bolt in a direction, but her ignorance meant doing so could land her in a worse place, and she wanted an audience to her embarrassment less than she wanted to be alone with her fiance. "You are perfectly capable of keeping your personal and professional separate," she continued, "and that's what we agreed we both wanted."

After a second of flailing verbally she decided there was a better strategy: to try to provoke his anger by appealing to his pride. Given the temper she had seen earlier it had a better chance of success than using logic alone. Reluctant as she was to incite his rage she was absolutely desperate not to have him flirt with her; some buried part of her psyche had convinced her that the prospect of love was infinitely more terrifying than a rage-induced tirade from the monarch's eldest child. "You can't possibly think highly of someone born on a remote farm in the middle of nowhere. You could have your choice of the nobility, probably had every woman in the capitol vying for your attention, and were engaged to me against your will. What about the woman that you spent last night with?"

It was a poor tactic if only because it was horribly transparent. Luke very likely had very little experience with any unwed female rejecting him even as minimally as Rhiane was now. To the upper echelons of society he possessed everything they valued: wealth, fame, proximity to the throne, a prestigious future, contacts all over the world, handsome features, intelligence, and athleticism. Only his personality was lacking and that was easily overlooked by anyone who didn't want an intimate relationship of mutual vulnerability. Either Luke would be incensed by her ploy or he would be able to push past and see what it was: Rhiane had large walls and was resistant to the notion of anything more than his 'work only' proposal of the morning.

With Luke possibly distracted she cut a wide berth towards the transport to his quarters. Maybe in the morning this would all be forgotten. Maybe he was fatigued enough that by morning he would have discarded the hazy memory of this hallway. Maybe if she could just get them both under the covers, sleeping separately, they could pretend this never happened.

The distance that she implied she needed, as she placed one foot behind another in a succession of steps, was respected. While he had consciously made a decision to exploit the commoner’s evident discomfort brought about by his actions, Rhiane screaming in the hallway was the last thing that Luke wanted. Such an incident happening with the press in close proximity would certainly mar his reputation. Over the years, his name had become synonymous to player, but he was not one who would force himself upon any woman. Besides, there was no need to do so until Rhiane Black.

Therefore, when she found her back pressed against the wall, Luke stopped his advance. He was merely trying to keep the distance between the two of them within the allowable range. “Everyone has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion; this right includes freedom to change his religion or belief, and freedom, either alone or in community with others and in public or private, to manifest his religion or belief in teaching, practice, worship and observance,” he recited an article from the Declaration of Human Rights, which was revived after relations between surviving nations were re-established. “Forget conscience and religion. Everyone has the right to change his belief. Though it might not be the case this morning, I now admit to the belief that I want more than business and work. Just like you are, I too am entitled to change my mind.”

She was being difficult, but he would not be employing the same tactic had she been more receptive of his flirtatious games. That she blushed and practically ran away from him was the reaction he wanted out of her. It showed that his future bride, no matter how impervious to his charms she thought she was, was nevertheless affected. Unlike him, who had years of practice, it would not be easy for her to truly separate personal from professional. Especially not when he started toying with her emotions for real.

Luke knew he ought to stop. A part of him believed that there were other ways to make her life miserable. Yet another part of him supposed that the mere discomfort and embarrassment she could have felt at that moment was not enough to cover for the damages that her careless declaration made. The prince would not admit that he was venting his frustrations borne of the very brief argument with his lover, even as Rhiane brought up Sofia. He was a painfully honest man, but growing up with vipers had taught the heir a lesson or two about deception.

Before he could respond though, the farmer sprinted towards the transport. Or at least she tried. Luke was taller, had longer strides, and was faster than her. He cut her and blocked her path with his body, then grabbed her wrist to stop her from running away. “I have never been more insulted in my entire life,” the crown prince admitted, and it was surprisingly true. “First you accused me of lying – the pink on your cheeks is truly lovely – then you had to reiterate that this is a business arrangement, and finally you would rather that I woo another woman. You are the one I will be marrying, are you not? Shouldn’t you – we – at least give us a chance?” She may again argue that the engagement was not what either of them would have wanted, or that he would not choose her if he was given a choice. It was both true. Painfully true. But the prince was ready to deny both that night to make her heart flutter, to give her hope, only break her come morning.

Without waiting for a response, he let go of her wrist and boarded the transport. The short ride was quiet and so was the walk to his suite. His communication band was on silent, but it did light up several times signifying notifications, which he barely read. None of it was from the person he would rather be spending the night with anyway.

Rhiane remained highly skeptical of his sudden change of heart. While his speech about the right to change beliefs was true- and more pointedly was the only reason that a princess elect was necessary to the crown to begin with- it was hard to fathom that the pompous and arrogant heir to the throne was so easily swayed by a blush or strategic change in approach to public image. He had been so dismissive at the engagement ball that he had left quickly and slept with another woman. Luke's blatant rejection of her had been the impetus for the implant. He had not been charmed by her refreshing honesty, shrewd understanding of her position, apathy to what lovers he would certainly take before and after they were wed, nor her performance at lunch, though she had expected they would be met with appreciation. Yet now he was professing attraction, a desire for genuine romance, and a sudden need to cast off their earlier agreement. It didn't make sense no matter how many times she turned it over in her head.

As the day wore on, however, she could not deny their frigid arrangement had improved. The greedy royal had snatched a cannoli and not insulted its taste. He had been forced to extend an invitation to his private island sanctuary but by all appearances legitimately enjoyed the cliff diving he had suggested. Luke had joked lightly and smiled after rescuing her from the depths of the pool they had both leapt into. Dinner had been pleasant and shared with enjoyable conversation. After her physical the prince had admitted the best part of his day was not hearing tomorrow could be spent by himself. Rhiane had presumed this was the start of a friendship or casual accord. Not once had she conceived of it as anything more than acceptance and making the best out of a challenging political joining.

Her bold escape was thwarted. The brace had been a forgotten impediment to her dash but ultimately its removal would not have won her the race. His legs were longer, he had more muscle mass on account of his gender, and he was not a couch potato that lacked exercise. Again there was soft cursing under her breath as she nearly lost her footing before he caught her wrist. For a second as she stood there, her breath heavy not only with the sudden burst of adrenaline that the sprint brought but also with the shock of him caring to intervene, she stared at him bewildered. Rhiane was certain her provocation would have some response but it was not what she expected. For a man that had been disgusted by her touch a day prior he certainly kept initiating contact.

"It's impossible, Luke," she finally said after the stifling silence of the transport and walk to his room. "I'm not the sort of person that can, or should, have that sort of... romantic relationship. It's better for us both if we keep things professional because then we know exactly where we stand and things won't become messy, or complicated, by any unwanted feelings." The former farmer knew she shouldn't persistently press the issue but she was becoming more and more vexed by the possibility he wouldn't just feign memory loss come morning. She believed the crown prince to be stubborn to a fault. If she couldn't persuade him to abandon this bizarre change in viewpoint then she feared for her future more than if Queen Camilla descended upon them in rage.

"You're..." she halted as she was reminded of his flattering of her flushed face. It was by sheer willpower alone she didn't go beet red though there was a rosy tint to her cheeks. "You're handsome, you're intelligent, you clearly adore your sister which speaks to your character, you're dedicated to your work and responsibilities, you're considerate when you chose to be, you're even a good dancer, so you shouldn't have any issue finding someone else. It's not you, it's me that's impossible, even for someone... like you," she said faltering. The compliments were genuine and all but an admission that were she to indulge herself he was her type. But Rhiane Black didn't care how many criteria boxes he checked. Personality flaws in her fiance were not a deterrent so much as her deep-rooted conviction that the universe was incapable of granting her a soul mate in Luke or anyone else in existence.

Turning around she sighed and began to undress for bed. A good night's sleep would restore them to sanity. Perhaps it would give her the clarity of insight as to why Luke was being so odd. If nothing else rest would give her more fortitude to deal with what was certain to be a disapproving monarch and her lieutenant Ms. Viscomi. Luke not defaulting to petty insults was the miracle of the week. To expect anyone in the palace to see the wisdom in her interview's deviation from script was highly improbable; two miracles simply didn't happen in quick succession even to the most lucky people in the world. And the princess elect had never been that fortunate.

Silence was not what he expected from her after his proposition. It was said with all the limited acting capacity that he had. Though it lacked genuine emotions, it sought to invalidate her perception that the man she would be spending a lot of her time with wanted badly to have nothing to do with her. It sounded like a good idea when he thought of it. His seemingly change of heart was supposed to be romantic. Something much less would have worked well with most of the ladies, but then most of the ladies did not need much persuasion. He was, after all, the most eligible bachelor in the kingdom.

Then why did it not work? Was his choice of words off? Was the expression on his face insincere?

The silence stretched on until after he held the door to their shared apartment open for her. The space was instantly filled with light upon their entry. Thanks to the cleaning service, it was perpetually spotless. The glass that he left on one of the kitchen counters had been taken care of, but in its place was a couple of boxes.

Luke went straight to the bedroom to find more comfortable clothes to sleep in. He had promised to call Sophia, but he was distracted by the mystery of the commoner who was repeatedly turning him down. The latest attempt happened while he was inside the walk-in closet, busy putting on sleepwear. Maybe he needed to let go of his pursuit and listen to the tiny voice in his head saying that there were other methods to make her more miserable, because the evidences were visibly against his goal that night. The farmer girl may be flustered by the physical attention he was giving her, but she was obviously not ready to be in a genuine relationship that involved feelings and emotions. There had to be a plethora of reasons why a lowly commoner would reject a crown prince. The answers may be in her write-up, which he should have already read, but honestly couldn’t find enough interest in.

There was one more trick left though. “I did advise you against self-deprecating remarks.” He emerged from the closet barefooted and bare chested, with dark blue pajama on, and ready to rebut when he found her bare back on him. Luke paused. He was tempted to repeat his comment about her style of seduction. Instead, he pointed to the sliding door with his thumb, reminding her, “Your clothes are in here, if you ever need something to wear.”

He stepped out of the bedroom to fetch a box that his sister said she brought. The prince chose one that was not obviously tampered, because knowing Cally, she would not leave without taking a sample of the goods. It was the final move for the night. If the box of dessert would not have the same effect as the one given to her that morning, then there was clearly something wrong with the woman.

“Before I start arguing with you again, because of your opinions that I do not agree with,” the prince stepped back into the bedroom, catching Rhiane before she went into the walk-in closet, if she ever even considered doing so. He sat on the bed before her and presented the box. “This is for you. Don’t mind the what the nutritionist says. It is fine to eat sweets at midnight before bed. We’ll just run together to burn the excess carbs.” His sentence was punctuated with a stifled yawn.

Rhiane had stripped to her undergarments but elected not to undress to completely. While she certainly slept nude during the warmer seasons, she suspected this would only amplify the difficulties she was having with Luke. The princess elect had always divorced herself emotionally from the activities she engaged in with men during brief dalliances. Given the romantic passes that had been made at her within the last half hour, however, she was less than confident her fiance would interpret any intimacy as purely physical. She did not want to send mixed messages and so she decided to err on the side of modesty much her chagrin. It felt like a horrible waste to be in the company of a highly attractive individual of the opposite sex, someone who was presumably attracted to her, and to not take advantage of both a lavish bed and total privacy. Only the risk of Luke getting the wrong impression was enough to chill her desires and destroy the sheer thought of initiating mutually satisfying activities.

Just as she was about to step into the closet to fetch a nightgown, so that she wasn't accused of reciprocating his proposal for more than a work relationship, she heard the crown prince behind her. First he had chastised her for self-depreciation (something for his sake she hoped he acclimated to as she had no real incentive or reason to stop) and now he was referencing opinions he didn't agree with and would argue over. With her back still to the heir to the throne she rolled her eyes. Rhiane was not certain if she was pleased or disappointed the stubborn and contrary personality he had displayed throughout the day hadn't disappeared with his sudden flattery.

"What is for me?" she started to ask as she turned towards him. As her eyes fell onto the small box the witty commentary she had mentally prepared died on her lips. Although she knew that the roses were almost certainly not his idea, she had been glad for them, and had not expected any sincere gifts of his own preparation. In his vehicle returning from the island she had heard him reference something like this with his sister Cally but presumed it was for his own enjoyment. Luke had stolen a cannoli from her restaurant container, after all, and there was no reason to expect him to become selflessly generous. Her visage reflected equal parts joy, confusion, and surprise at the sweet offering.

"But when did you..." she began as she tried to rewind her memories. Either he ordered them on the way back from the pizza parlor or when she had been taking her nap. Regardless of the exact timing it had been well before his alleged change of heart and made his purchase twice as baffling. Rhiane stared on, tempted both to accept it gratefully and wolf down every last morsel as quickly as possible, lest his change his mind again, or reject it considering the circumstances they were now in. Luke could see the princess elect chewing the inside of her cheek as she waffled back and forth, palpably excited, but trying to weigh whether or not this indulgence was some sort of trap.

Fortunately her sweet tooth won over her apprehension and with a barely contained squeal she took the delicate box. Rhiane justified her ultimate acceptance by reasoning if he had ordered the treat before his insistence they have a romantic component to their marriage that meant there were no strings attached. It was terrible logic but the only way she could consume the sugary confection without a guilty conscience. "Thank you!" she exclaimed as she plucked it from his lap. After three presents in the last twelve hours, which had been almost as many as she had over the course of the rest of her life, one might expect she would be less enthusiastic, that there would be diminishing returns on the third compared to the first. If there were any they were well hidden. Still in only her underwear she grinned from ear to ear, childish glee on her countenance, as she bobbed lightly on the balls of her feet.

And then, without thinking, she leaned down and planted a kiss on his cheek. It was childish (though no more than her reaction to paltry gifts), it wasn't an intimate gesture, but it was affectionate and genuine. Rhiane was buoyed by the 'bribe' and, forgetting her pajamas entirely, plopped down next to him to eagerly partake in a second dessert. The nutritionists would scold her but it wasn't as if she was in any real danger of weight gain. Her ridiculous metabolism had always worked in her favor and played no small part in why she had both participated in and won the contest. "I know it's for me, but do you want one?" she asked with a sincere smile.

The purpose of the box of cannoli was neither to bribe Rhiane Black, nor to make her feel special. It was his curiosity, and perhaps a little bit of pride, that convinced the crown prince to ask for his sister’s help to purchase the dessert from a reputable pastry shop. One that was unlike the casual restaurant they had brunch in that morning. Luke’s intention when he made the request was two-fold. First, to refresh his memory on how the dessert tasted, and second, to share with the farmer girl the experience of biting into luxurious velvety filling that he was certain the commoner’s gift lacked. Cannoli was an unexceptional sweet treat. One could procure it from most pastry shops and bakeries. It was probably the reason why the farmer girl had a familiarity with it. However, like most everything, the truly gifted with culinary skills had a way of elevating food from conventional to luxurious for a price.

The box he asked Calista to buy was not meant as a gift for the princess elect. It was more for him than her, actually. When he saw the stranger present the unassuming box to his date, then saw the reaction on the naïve woman’s face, he couldn’t help but feel as if a challenge was issued from one man to another. Luke had no desire to win Rhiane’s affection, especially not that morning after she annoyed him with her stubborn viewpoints. Honestly, it was not about her. It was about an untitled young professional, who was probably struggling through quarter life crisis, working more than forty hours a week just to pay for the car he bought but could not really afford. It was between that stranger and him, the future king. Apparently, the woman who would sit by his side when he inherited the throne, who he was offering an access to his personal finances, would leave him for a box of sweets.

However, somewhere along the minutes that trickled into hours, the circumstances changed the plan and Luke was glad that he had the cannoli brought to his room.

“I had to enlist Calista’s help to for the tastiest cannoli in the capital. She enjoys sweets as much as you do.” But the princess herself would not be burdened with such a menial task, except when it was her brother calling for a favor. Crown prince or not, the same was expected of Luke.

Grinning like a schoolboy, he stared expectantly as the woman seemed to contemplate what to do with the good graces presented to her. Common sense dictated to take advantage of his generosity, yet he could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she contemplated if there was any consequence in taking the offer. In the end, her love for sweet things won her over and Luke had not seen her happier.

Too happy, perhaps, that it must have been purely instincts when she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. To say that he was surprised was an understatement. In the middle of quietly celebrating for a seemingly small victory, the unprecedented gesture made Luke tense for a quarter of a second. It was all he could to not to cringe. After all his touching and flirting, he had not forgotten that she was a low-born peasant and all of it was just part of his duty to his mother’s kingdom. He and Rhiane were not a real couple, and his heart would rather be somewhere else. The boyish grin was momentarily wiped off his face. He was not a good actor, did not need to be. Who knew lying and pretending would be very useful life skills?

The slight shift in the cushion as she very happily planted herself beside him pulled him out of his thoughts. He only barely managed to stop himself from retreating to the cold and distant crown prince as he turned to her with a small smile that failed to reach his eyes. “Don’t mind if I do,” he mumbled before taking a treat randomly. He stuffed it in his mouth in a manner that he could only do in the privacy of his own suite. They had kissed, he thought. Actually, he had initiated the kiss on both occasions. It just felt different than when he, with full knowledge that it was just for show, was instigating the romantic gestures compared to when she took the initiative. A kiss on the cheek was far from being a romantic gesture, but the issue was that one day was not enough to erase his prejudice.

Dark chocolate filling was smudged on his thumb after he pushed the cannolo in his mouth. He stared at it for a second, then at Rhiane. She may be in the act of choosing which treat to attack when he did attack. Luke wiped the dark chocolate on Rhiane’s upper lip. Grinning, he declared, “Moustache!” Then stepped away, out of her reach, laughing, before crawling into bed where he settled at the center. “Be quiet when you chew, sugar monster,” he called out as he buried himself under the covers.

She was not that bad, he tried to convince himself. He could have been engaged to somebody worse.

Rhiane wasn't certain what caused the change in his disposition when she kissed his cheek but she supposed it ultimately did not matter. She had not missed that the somewhat self-satisfied grin had immediately disappeared with her admittedly affectionate gesture. For someone who had just professed a desire to engage in intimacy beyond their formal political arrangement it was baffling. Luke had initiated far more than a innocent peck and yet he had been stunned, if not displeased, when she had shown her gratitude beyond words. Shrugging mentally she let relief wash over her burdened psyche. If the heir to the throne could be thwarted by something so simple it proved his alleged desire for love was a complete fabrication. No longer did she need to try to find a solution to his proposal; there was no true problem to contend with. Luke had been teasing her, nothing more, and was not prepared for any of the emotional investment he had suggested. Rhiane had been so paranoid she had believed his lies but he had proved himself woefully inadequate with deception, even it is was probably meant to be playful, which was reassuring. The crown prince was either overly confident about his abilities, hadn't expected her reactions, or had just leaped before he looked.

"Wait that's the..." she started as he randomly selected a cannoli. Before she could finish her objection- she was going to generously gift him the one she had slightly less interest in- he had already stuffed it in his mouth. Luke's body language, as well as his chilled countenance, was indicative of a shift in his thoughts but the princess elect could not help but smile. Even half of the candidates in the contest would be appalled at his lack of etiquette. During the contest she had been subjected to watching them take tiny, delicate bites of their food, argue about silverware, and pretend they were nobility already. In the eyes of the peasants the aristocrats were always flawless. They rolled out of bed looking amazing, they were never caught in unflattering outfits, they never got flustered or swore under their breath, and they certainly did not forget their manners no matter where they dined. One specific woman named Maria, who hailed from the western side of the kingdom, had declared repeatedly that Luke was a paragon of perfection all men should try to emulate. Maria would have fainted at the sight of Luke now.

Still amused she leaned over the box and began to pick up a sweet that had a dusting of ground nuts and lemon peel curls when she felt him smear something on her upper lip with his finger. Rhiane was surprised due to the fact he had been so put off by her touch a minute ago. Luke's grin had returned as she turned towards him and he proudly declared she had been painted with a mustache. It was the sort of ridiculous joke she'd have expected of Edwin, or a drunk Gerald, but not of an irritable royal fiance. Incredulous, her mouth hung open as he stepped out of her reach, laughed, and crawled into bed. If she didn't have five more fragile cannolis to wolf down in her arms she would have chased him down and smeared chocolate all over his face in retaliation. Fortunately she was too enchanted, too greedy, and too determined to have every last drop of decadent sugar to waste it on revenge. If he wanted to open the figurative door to practical jokes he had best be prepared. In public she would sustain her image but in private she would show him how much experience she had after dealing with two older brothers all of her childhood.

"I'll have you know sugar monsters are exceptionally loud," she replied before picking up one treat and biting into it as loudly as possible. The flaky crust crunched under her teeth but sent crumbs fluttering back into the container. "Shit!" he heard her mumble as she chewed. Rhiane tried to utilize the ricotta cream on the open side of the half still left to clean up her crumbs with limited success. Much as she enjoyed being contrary and defiant, just for the sake of proving to Luke not everyone lived their lives with only his happiness in mind, it wasn't important enough for a minuscule cannoli loss.

The rest of the present was consumed without any decorum but also without any purposeful extraneous noise. She would have left a couple for the morning, simply to help her favor the luxurious taste, but she strongly suspected that he would steal them from her the next day if she did so. Rhiane might have more power than she did before she entered the castle but accusing the crown prince of petty theft would not help her reputation. After she licked her last finger clean, satiated and with a lingering sweet cream on her tongue, she let out a contented sigh. The day had been fraught will challenges and difficulties but there had been rewarding moments as well. Truthfully she had not expected it so be so dramatically eventful. From what little she understood of Luke, which was limited to broadcasts and articles, she thought he'd be apathetic and wholly removed from absolutely every second they spent together. She had underestimated his ego, his need to feel victorious even in social settings, and his investment in their dynamic.

With her soon-to-be husband buried under the covers Rhiane stood, stripped the rest of the way, and pulled on one of the nightgowns provided by her maids. No one had anticipated the couple sharing a room this early into their 'relationship' and so it was a practical garment rather than seductive. The cotton was exquisite but an unremarkable shade of pink, with straps instead of sleeves, and a hem just above her knees.

"Good night, Luke," she said softly so as not to wake him if he had already fallen asleep. Yawning the lifted the covers on the side of the bed closest to the wall of windows and slid between the sheets. The bed was massive enough that even with his royal highness in the dead center she still was not in danger of brushing against him from where she lay. Curling up onto her side she closed her eyes and tried to calm herself enough for sleep. Her body did not need any coaxing. Exhausted from many nights without sufficient slumber, a full day of activity, and exposure to the elements that had taxed her further, it was all too easy to pass into the realm of dreams. With any luck she wouldn't find herself rising with the dawn for once in her life.

The lives of the aristocracy were largely public, from the son of the least of the lords to the queen herself, the lens of the camera had always been seeking these people’s strongest and most vulnerable moments with no clear purpose whether as to build them up or tear their inherited titles apart. The endless fake smiles, backstabbing, and dirt digging were a precious mine of juicy gossips and news that entertained the general public. After all, these were the people who were and would be charting the future of the kingdom, and perhaps each and every person’s destiny. Manners and poise were therefore two indispensable tools in a new noblewoman’s starter pack. Luke understood that the farmer had not yet had the chance to attend classes on either, but still he called out, though still in a teasing tone, “Language, princess.”

Expecting that a woman who had grown tilling the land in a relatively unknown town – at least unknown to him – whose company was perhaps livestock more than actual people would transform to a perfect lady was too much to ask. At least Rhiane possessed a natural poise and confidence that the court required at the minimum, but cursing and modulating the tone of her voice in situations out of her control could use some coaching.

Luke’s thoughts were along those lines when finally his lack of sleep caught up and pulled him into unconsciousness. He was normally a light sleeper, but he did not steer when the princess elect joined him on the bed.

Morning came too soon. The bedroom, despite the walls of glass, was still comfortably dim. The glass prevented the light from coming through by adapting its opaqueness to the time of the day. But anyway, the sun had not yet made its ascent. As Luke checked the time, he was not surprised that it was quarter before five in the morning. His body clock was used to getting up before dawn, with exception of when he had spent the night drinking or dallying with a lady. On that day, though, sleep would not claim him back even if he wanted to surrender to it.

The crown prince slowly got off the bed, careful to not wake up the woman sleeping on the far end. He stopped at the foot of the bed, stared at the space he occupied, then to where she lay asleep, then wondered what was so abhorrent about him that she had to choose the farthest spot possible. Well, if she did not want his skin touching her, then he strongly felt the same. There were others who would sacrifice everything to be where she was, and Luke thought that Rhiane was squandering the opportunity given to her.

Luke gave up on trying to figure out the peasant and instead checked on the computer that was propped on his desk. He quickly checked his schedule for the day that was logged by his virtual assistant, before heading to the bathroom for a shower and choosing his uniform, pins, and finally his boots. He was going to spend half of the day at the air base to oversee training drills and sit with the committee to discuss defense among other things. Sophia loved the air force uniform on him. She always commented that the color gray and the fit favored him, that it made the prince look more dashing than he already was. But to Luke, it was just another jacket with decorative pins. Regardless of what he thought, he would see her at lunch in his uniform.

His hair was still a bit wet, but he did what he can to keep the strands off his face, effectively pulling off and making quiff fashionable. He grabbed the hat that came with the uniform, tucked it under his arm, and prepared to leave when he paused as if remembering something. He should have called the queen earlier to confirm his freedom for the day. So, he dialed his mother’s number.

A sleepy voice picked-up the other end of the line. “Luke, my son, this better be an emergency.”

Luke leaned against the counter in the suite’s kitchen, looking at the other box of cannoli. Unlike him, the queen usually gets up much later, except on emergency situations. “Mum,” he greeted less stiff than the day before. “Have you spoken with Dr. Gulsvig?”

“Are you calling about the implant? Yes, dear, I turned it off last night. You have until six in the evening tonight.”

Luke frowned. “Who am I, Cinderella?”

The queen chuckled at the analogy. Her son was not used to having a curfew or restrictions in general, but well, actions had consequences. The queen reasoned that he did this to himself and her conscience was clean. “You have always, and will always be, prince charming, dearest. But be back by six in the evening. I’m planning a family dinner before you leave for the provinces tomorrow.”

“I’ll try my best,” he answered, not committed. “Get back to sleep, mum. I’ll call if I need more time.”

“No extensions. Don’t test me, Lucius. You know I love you and I am doing this for you.”

Not an hour had passed until the crown prince had left the castle’s premises. Unlike the day before, though, his mode of transport was in a car instead of a hovercraft. He sat at the back seat with his driver / bodyguard navigating the road. A car would command less attention, and besides he was not sure if Sophia’s taping location had a launch pad nearby.

Meanwile, on the nightstand at the side of the bed where he left Rhiane sleeping, were the plastic cards he was giving her the day before with a note that read “Happy independence day!” in his handwriting. If she happened to open the fridge, she would find a box similar to what he gave her the night before, although this one also had a note. It read, “Greed is definitely not good. Save some for me.”

Rhiane typically rose before dawn; before sunrise was the best time to tend to crops, start the irrigation system, and of course begin preparing breakfast. Both her father and brother were separate kinds of disasters in the kitchen. Her father made edible food but was guilty of over-seasoning and over-cooking out of fear he'd either have a tasteless or raw result. Gerald simply was too easily angered and would, after a few missteps on measurements, would became so irate with himself that his focus would be ruined and his meal would suffer. Ever since her mother had passed she had taken over the responsibility because it was intolerable to try to swallow either one's accidents. To soothe their wounded egos she had feigned she wanted to cook for sentimental reasons but she was more moved by practicality. For all their faults around the stove both men were efficient, steady, and dependable workers.

When she opened her eyes she was initially confused. The room was horribly unfamiliar. The princess elect had only begun to adjust to her private quarters when the necessity arose to move to Luke's. Squinting her eyes at the dim light coming in through the wall of windows she drank in the view as her mind drifted to the permanence of this spectacle. Sharing a bed through the night was not absolutely necessary for procreation and so it was possible they would end up with separate quarters. The crown prince certainly didn't enjoy sharing, so she could imagine him at least attempting to persuade Queen Camilla to limit their time together to conjugal visits, but with the rebellion growing in momentum any rumors of separate chambers could fuel the rumors their romance was fraudulent. Rhiane sighed. While she was not overly fond of her finace's personality the luxurious suite had its perks and she silently hoped to stay in it if only to avoid all the intrusive questions of her maids as to why she did not want to decorate her own space with at least a framed family photo.

Her gaze drifted down to the nightstand where she spotted plastic cards and a hand-written note wishing her a 'Happy Independence Day.' Rhiane groaned and rolled her eyes as she finally crawled out of bed, fetched herself a simple blouse, slacks, and undergarments from the closet, and then wandered to the shower. The controls were as foreign to her and her prince charming, in his probable race out the door to get away from her as soon as possible, had failed to leave instructions on the operation of any of his appliances. After fiddling for a few minutes she successfully adjusted the water streams to an appropriate height and desirable temperature. If she had inadvertently changed one of his settings she had no remorse- he could blame himself for failing to anticipate her difficulties.

As she bathed, rinsing, shampooing, and conditioning her hair in solitude and silence, she appreciated the lack of attendants. Moving had the unexpected benefit of letting her manage herself. If she had to speculate it was because her calendar was clear. Without any engagements Rhiane had to be prepared for she had the liberty of selecting her own attire, dallying as long as she wanted in the bathroom, and wandering around free of a beautician's scrutiny. This freedom would be short-lived. Tomorrow marked the beginning of a tour around the kingdom and a need to be presentable nearly all hours of the day. Today she could be a shut-in but tomorrow she'd be a face for the people among the nobility.

Moments after she had dressed and wandered to the kitchen sink for a glass of water she heard a soft rap at the door.

"Miss Black?" called a voice that was unmistakably masculine. "May I come in? I have been assigned your personal bodyguard as of today. I would like to formally introduce myself."

"Come in," she called out as she abandoned her need for refreshment and turned around. No sooner had she spun on her feet than she saw Dark Horse 3, her stand-in for the surly Prince Luke at the engagement ball, walk into the room with a stiff gait. At the time she had heard he had been selected because he was the most aesthetically pleasing choice for an escort. That the same individual was now apparently her bodyguard made a bemused smile creep up on her face. "Ah, we've already met, haven't we? They said your call sign was Dark Horse 3."

"Correct, Miss Black. My name is Tobias Lavanchy and I will be accompanying you today in any personal outings you may have." He was tall, with chiseled features, a slightly stern inscrutable expression, and a crisp tailored suit that she was certain was a uniform for the palace guard. Though she was engaged she could not help but wonder if what was beneath the immaculate linen was someone deserving of all the sighs and forlorn gazes of the castle's female staff.

"If we're going to be spending that much time together please call me Rhiane and I'll call you Tobias," she suggested warmly. "I thought they would appoint a female guard. I don't suppose you know why you have been specifically chosen, do you?" she continued curiously.

"I was told it is on account of my relation to the royal family. I am Prince Luke's second cousin. His father was the first cousin of my father," Tobias explained stiffly. As he stood there rigidly Rhiane found she had to suppress a laugh. No one was so sincerely respectfully formal in her presence; it was both flattering and comical considering she was the daughter of two farmers that had nearly lost their land at least a dozen times.

"Do you have a personal communication device and the contact information for Prince Luke?" she inquired.

"Yes," Tobias replied in monotone with slight hesitation.

"Excellent! Since I haven't chosen one for myself yet, please let his royal highness know if he needs to pass along a message to me to do so through you. I'm sure that's not his preference but I also don't expect he will actually need to reach me either. Since I've been prescribed rest for the day you've just become my movie companion," she prattled off.

"Yes, Miss... Rhiane," the stoic bodyguard responded. It felt a bit like poking the tiger to send Luke a message that he was doing things with the peasant that might constitute a date in another circumstance. He had his doubts that his relative was capable of any honest attachment to the complicated brunette but he was also renowned for being exceeding possessive. This was an opportunity. If he was careful he could bend the ear of the princess elect, forming a bond that superseded even the heir to the throne's, and gloat upon something that he did not believe Luke had actually won over as the tabloids alleged.

Your Highness,

Miss Black has requested I inform you that I have been assigned as her personal bodyguard beginning immediately. As Miss Black has not selected a personal communication device, and has no timeline to provide as to when she may do so, she has requested all messages you have for her be sent to me from today onward. Miss Black has informed me that we will be watching movies together this morning so you have my reassurances any urgent messages you may send will be given to her the moment they are received.

Your Servant,
Tobias Lavanchy

A seemingly lone black car sped across the East Harbor Suspension Bridge that connected the island fortress, Hermes, to the main land. The engine roared in the early morning light against the background of gentle waves in the calm sea sleeping beneath the bridge. There was no speed limit that it respected, nor any sane officer that would dare call the attention of its driver. Four more cars of the same build and make trailed not a hundred meters behind. All of which maintaining a speed above the city limit, but none seemed to care, because a passenger in one of those identical vehicles happened to be the crown prince.

One thing that Luke loved about being early was having the road to himself. If they had left the palace an hour later then his security team, those daredevil racers, would have to contend with significantly more civilian cars and wouldn’t have had the pleasure of driving as fast as they did that morning.

“Your highness, if I may offer an advise.” Gruff, thickly accented voice of his assigned chauffeur and personal bodyguard interrupted. The man’s brown eyes were hidden behind a pair dark of wayfarers that regarded Luke from the rearview mirror, which found his royal highness hitting call button for the eleventh time. It was on loud speaker and the sound of ringing had filled the air inside the car for what felt like eternity to the bodyguard. “If you ring her phone enough, you will end up in her ‘blocked list’.”

Luke shrugged without lifting his attention from the device on his hand. “Then you will lend me a communication device that I can use to call again, Nolan. Problem solved.”

“And then what? Drag me with you to dating purgatory? No, thank you, your royal highness, I don’t enjoy being reported to the network providers.”

“I can fix that for you, I always do – Hello?”

“Alessandro,” was all Nolan heard from the loud speaker. To his dismay, Luke had quickly turned the broadcast into a private conversation. Without a doubt, the person on the other end of the line was not the princess elect that his future king was parading around town the day before. Him and Luke may not be the closest of friends, but they had a history together. Nolan had been a part of the security team since the crown prince was fifteen. It would be fair to say that the older man was loyal to the often moody prince, but it was not to say that his silence was not without price.

“If you give us a chance to talk, I am sure that I can make you understand that this is--”

“No, no. Luke, this is not me giving you a chance to explain yourself,” she cut him off. “I answered the damn phone just to tell you to stop calling.”

“Sophie. Listen.” He took a deep steadying breath as the line was cut and the tone went flat. It was not how he envisioned his day would be. Sophia was the first person that came into mind when the doctor suggested to cut the link for a day. After what happened in his engagement ball, that day was one of the rare chances to spend time together, and he was going to maximize their time no matter how busy his schedule was. But it looked like none of his plans would see the light of day.

The car finally slowed to a stop before the main gate. Nolan took care of the protocol while the prince composed himself and prepared to face his duties. As usual, he had to distance himself from his emotions as to not let it cloud his better judgment. The fight was not yet over as the day was just beginning to unfold. If he could track her, and he would, then he could still do something to save them both from the evils of a misunderstanding.

Then the gadget that he was still holding pinged. A message alert popped on the screen from a person named Tobias. Without meaning to read it, his eyes skimmed across the words ‘her personal bodyguard’ which just made the message interesting. A man for his fiancée’s personal bodyguard? Whose idea was it? But as he reached the end of the message and re-read the name of the bodyguard-in-charge, he recognized the family name, then the first name. Tobias Lavanchy. The two of them had the chance to train in hand-to-hand combat together when they were kids, but really they were just playing around. Tobias’ father was the late king’s close friend and cousin. The former used to frequently visit the castle together with Tobias, who was the same age as Luke. There might had been a time when the two boys got close, but then again circumstances and their social differences had pulled them apart to the point that the two barely talked. Interesting how fate had brought them back together.

Tobias,

Allow me to thank you in advance for looking after my fiancée. I assure you that there will be no dull moments, but you must arm yourself with patience as she can be a handful. Kindly make sure that she is back in my rooms by five thirty in the afternoon. No extensions.

Luke

To Rhiane: kissy face

By the time he was done with the response, the car and its escorts had already found their respective parking spaces. Surprisingly, a number personnel still traveled using cars, maybe because they spent a lot of time learning to navigate the sky during work.

“Your highness, welcome back to Hermes,” greeted a man with gray crew cut and neatly trimmed beard after Luke stepped out of the car. He wore the same uniform as Luke’s, but with considerably more pins.

The prince, despite his position of power, saluted the older man. His position had no meaning inside the air base, although most everyone still had a problem with calling him by his given name.

“At ease.”

“You arrived early, Commander,” Luke commented as soon as he was released from the salute.

The older man nodded and motioned for them to enter the building beside the control tower. “Ah, I have heard that you will be reporting here today.”

Tobias had just sent for breakfast, to be served in the crown prince's quarters, when he heard the soft pinging noise of a received message. He glanced down at the scrolling text and stared at it for several long seconds. Any woman who had won a contest such as the princess elect must be strong of will yet he somehow doubted she was quite as taxing as his cousin insinuated; Luke was infamously obstinate himself and he wagered that any failed meeting of the minds was blamed on the former peasant instead of the royal heir. The missive was encouraging. Although the engaged pair played a perfect couple on broadcast he was now even more certain they were not nearly as intimate in practice. Rhiane would be frustrated, isolated, and without the support system she had back home. So long as his proud relatives remained as condescending and dismissive as he knew them to be it would be all too easy to be the hero his ward so desperately needed.

"Your meal is on its way," he announced only to discover that Rhiane had departed the kitchen for an adjoining room. The bodyguard followed after and discovered her lounging on a lavish couch that dominated the seating area of the room. Though she had not complained of any pain she had propped up her braced ankle on a small plush cushion for comfort. Despite himself Tobias frowned. He had been present at the engagement ball and knew the injury was purposefully caused by a visiting diplomat. Mere hours after the betrothal was announced and the kingdom had already failed to protect their newest pawn.

"Excellent," she said with a gracious smile. "Do you know how to operate this thing?" she said with a gesture to quite literally the largest screen she had seen outside of a theatre. Her own home system was mass-produced, inexpensive, small, and with such limited options she knew at a glance that trying to navigate Luke's controls for his beast would be quite the undertaking.

"Yes," Tobias answered succinctly. "The palace has its own showing room," he informed her, "if you would like for me to escort you. It was specially designed for the viewing of films by the royal family and their guests."

"I'm sure it does, but I'd rather stay here," Rhiane stated with a charismatic grin as she tossed her companion the slender high-tech remote that allegedly would power on the sophisticated machine. Luke probably had voice activation on nearly everything he owned but it was exceedingly unlikely he had made any changes to add recognition for hers. At least for the time being she'd rely on more manual controls for the electronics in his suite.

"What would you like to watch?" Tobias asked as he turned on the large flat screen and glanced down to the smaller female. He was 'excessively' tall and towered over most but the princess elect was not as short as many of her gender. Undoubtedly this had played a part in the acceptance as a candidate for her position. Dainty, delicate, and petite flowers might produce male heirs to the throne that were more effeminate aesthetically and the throne wanted to project an image of their lineage being strong both in body and mind. There was a balance to be struck between adhering to standards of beauty and having a unhealthy waif that would weaken the gene pool. By most accounts Rhiane was an excellent fit and he was not immune from admiring her discreetly.

"Why don't you pick something that interests you too? But with a happy ending," she shrugged non-noncommittally before patting the empty spot next to her on the expansive sofa. "Sit with me at least until the food arrives."

Tobias, like all the other members of the palace's staff, had learned how to be nonreactive. If Queen Camilla waltzed through the door and began screeching, if the crown prince engaged in an extra-martial affair before his eyes, or if Princess Callista (bless her kind soul) lost control of herself and became a hysterical mess he was to remain a statue. There were tests administered before security clearance was given to assure that the monarchy was not inconvenienced by an 'emotional' servant. Internally, however, he could not help but be surprised not only by the happy ending request but her consideration of his viewing preferences as well as the invitation to sit beside her. No one knew quite what to expect of the princess elect and yet she defied any preconceptions they might have.

"You have been cleared to travel, although in a limited radius, if you choose to leave the palace," he said he as he scrolled through the digital library for a selection that would be proper and entertaining for someone of her background and status.

"And do what, exactly?" Rhiane said with a raised brow as she watched the rigid bodyguard circle the large furniture before gingerly sitting down on the edge of the cushion immediately next to where she was sprawled. His body language was still so excessively formal he looked as if he was about to take a test on posture rather than enjoy the fruits of the cinema.

"I do not know," Tobias admitted with reluctance. "Shopping?"

At this the former farmer let out a guffaw, then a laugh, and pulled a decorative pillow into her lap as she shook her head in gentle rejection of his proposal. He had not meant to be humorous and she could see in the creases of his brow that he was either perplexed, insulted, or both. "I have all the clothes and shoes I could ever want or need- and then some- and if I was to send any to the people of my town they would take offense. Couture fashion is not practical from their professions and if they sold my gifts they would be disparaged by the rest of the kingdom. No, I think it's best for me to remain here. I've been instructed to rest and I want the citizens to know I take the royal doctor's advice seriously."

What she failed to divulge was that she had the suspicion that Luke might be creating yet another scandal. Her absence would paint her as a dutiful, obedient, and thoughtful addition to the crown; people might speculate exactly how she was spending her time certainly, but if her movie-binging was discovered it would be an innocent enough (if not endearing) explanation. Parading around the capitol would make her look defiant, smug about her newfound wealth, and the media would question if she was ever hurt by Lord Jin in the first place or if it was an act. With her out of the picture the paparazzi would have only Luke to hound and praise or abuse. The crown prince was so elated at Dr. Gulsvig's recommendation the implants be shut off for a day that Rhiane was certain he had something in mind more than just working- he had a reputation as a womanizer in the tabloids for good reason and he was not capable of changing his personality in thirty-six hours so completely. Luke was still the man who bedded someone while his fiancee was entertaining their mutual guests at a celebration in their honor. It was almost guaranteed he'd seize his freedom to explore other ladies besides the low-born creature to whom which he was to be wed.

"I'm not like the other women in the castle, am I?" she asked Tobias.

"No, you are not," Tobias said a bit too quickly. "Do you find this drama acceptable?" he said as he hovered over a historical fictional title that had, presumably, a happy ending as required.

"Yes, please," she said as she sank down. The screen flashed black and, with all the pomp and circumstance of a major blockbuster, a orchestral song resounded through the sudden silence that had fallen over the two.

When Luke was younger, the sound of a fighter jet’s engine used to enthuse him. There was something about the low growl of the engine that seemed to bring the blood in his veins to life. He used to dream about flight and speed and the view from above the clouds, because to the young prince it was freedom to fly like an eagle and watch the tiny world tick like clockwork from the distance. It was that vision that propelled Luke to pursue a career in the air force.

Years later, as he was seated among the company of uniformed men, the crown prince was glad that offices inside the base had walls thick enough to cancel the loud rumblings of air craft engines. Otherwise, no productive meeting would ensue while the flight drills were in progress.

It was already eleven in the morning when the meeting was adjourned. Division heads including Luke’s commanding officer was in attendance. It was a regular review of the prevailing issues, border security, and the escalating rebel situation. Although these rebels operated on the ground, the air force was key in surveillance and in supporting ground troops. His squadron, in particular, played a vital role in reconnaissance, making him among the most well-informed commissioned officer in the air force. The position also made him accountable to strategically conduct aerial surveys over areas where suspected rebel movement was happening. Therefore, he was not bluffing when he told Rhiane that it was his business to know the security status within the borders. He suspected that as much as he did not care to read about her background, she too did not take the time to really know who she was competing for when she joined the contest. It wouldn’t be surprising if she was judging him based on the aspect of his persona that the news loved to focus on – which was his alleged scandals and his reputation as a womanizer.

However, the thing about Luke that made him appear distant and as ruthless as the heirs that came before him was that he was effective in disentangling himself from his emotions while fulfilling his duties and responsibilities to the kingdom. There was a time for work and a time for amusing himself. Eleven in the morning was the blurred line when work and personal life met. He had finished most of the administrative work and had made his contribution to the advancement of peace and security in the kingdom, it was time for him to pursue his non-work-related goals for the day.

The crown prince politely declined the invitation to lunch by his commanding officers on the account of the need to be elsewhere entirely for the afternoon, which was partly true, because he was invited as a guest to the fiftieth anniversary celebration of Evolab, one of the oldest biotechnology firms in the world. However, there was another place he was supposed to be at lunch.

---

Sophia Keller had just wrapped up a photoshoot for a digital magazine when she received the message from ‘Pete’ that read:

Sophie,

I will be at basement one parking lot when you’re done with your photoshoot. Don’t ask me how I knew that you’re at the Shutterbug, I just do. I am waiting for you in a gray Crown 56. Registration plate number ACHJ 21.

Pete

Such a stubborn human being, she had thought when she read the message. She ought to roll her eyes and delete it right away, but the actress caught herself smiling. His tenacity may be viewed as annoying by many, but it was endearing to her. That he would not give up on her even when he could have any woman he chose in the kingdom made her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. It was that very reason that made the black-haired actress decide to actually walk to the parking lot alone and meet with the crown prince.

The car he identified was easily spotted because Nolan’s bulky physique was standing guard just outside the driver’s door. Sophia was familiar with the variety of cars and hovercrafts that the prince used to travel the city in, but the old not too shiny gray car was not his taste. Probably something he borrowed for the occasion to minimize the chance of being recognized. When Luke’s bodyguard spotted the woman in her little black dress and high heels, he opened the backseat door and made no comment.

“Thank you,” she murmured before ducking inside where she found the sender of the message ‘Pete’ typing on a tablet in the dark with one hand while holding a phone to his ear with the other. Upon spotting her, she vaguely heard him tell the person on the other end of the line that he would call again, before he hastily ended the call. A cocky smile tugged the corners of his lips. “Hello, Pete.”

The smile turned into a grimace. It was his idea that Sophie use a codename for him. Pete was the name of the main character, and a pilot, in one of the old movies that they enjoyed watching. Sophia easily identified the character with Luke, but the latter of course disagreed arguing was that he was better looking than the American actor. But before he could start an argument or apology or both, the actress grabbed the lapel of his jacket pulling him towards her until there was nothing, not even an ounce of space, existed between them.

In the privacy of the parked car, Luke made up for the hours that he had ignored her, holding her the way only he knew how. Meeting him was a bad idea. Just two seconds in the same space as him and she was already climbing up his lap without a care if he messed up her lipstick. Sophia should have known by then that she did not stand a chance, and maybe she did know, but how could she resist the man who could make her heart flutter? The lips that touched hers was urgent, seemingly afraid that the moment would pass by and reality would kick in to remind them that none of it was possible. He demanded her attention and she gave it to him, drinking in the passion that he was pouring into the stolen time. She heard a dull thump as the tablet computer hit the flooring, but her prince charming didn’t seem to hear or care.

The actress did. She pulled away.

The blue in his eyes was swallowed by the darkness. Yet, even in the insufficient lighting inside the car, she detected a faint blush on his cheeks. Luke was as breathless as her. If only the public could see that the snobbish and arrogant crown prince actually had a vulnerable side. “What’s wrong, Sophie?” It was asked barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner. Sharing my space with her is necessary, but I assure you that the farmer and I are not – we are not even friends.”

“Lucius.” Her voice got caught in her throat. Photographs from the news and the internet came up to her mind, photographs that celebrated the love story between a commoner and prince charming. That prince charming used to be hers and no one else’s. “Luke, I can’t do this.”

The prince with his lopsided cheeky grin, raised a brow at her statement. “This?” He gestured at her straddling his thighs. “Of course, you can. You have my consent therefore, this is not considered rape.”

“No, silly! Stop acting dumb, you know what I mean.” She inhaled a steadying breath and moved to properly take the seat beside him, but his arms instantly went around her waist and pulled her against his chest. “If I scream and somebody heard, this will be the greatest scandal that your mother would ever have to cover up, your royal highness.” Sophie pulled away and he let her.

“Don’t worry about her, my mother is very creative in making excuses. What can you not do?.”

The actress successfully disentangled herself from the prince’s arms, but not his gaze. “I can’t wait for you. I thought I can, but I can’t be a royal mistress. It will not be good for my image, and most of all it will destroy yours. Besides, your mother will never approve it.”

He reached for her hand. “The queen is my problem. This will work. We can make it work, I promise.”

“No,” she took her hand back and placed it on her lap. “Not everything is under your control. I’m not like you who can easily step away from my emotions. I can’t watch you with that farmer on TV and pretend to be happy that you met her. I can’t stay in the sidelines while you marry her and build a family with her. Besides,” the actress swallowed hard. “I’m seeing someone else.”

Two movies later, one of which they had both legitimately enjoyed, and one of which Tobias had been much less enchanted than the princess elect (as the special effects were far more impressive than any of the acting and Rhiane had far less exposure to major films), and they were both ready to eat. Being assigned as her personal bodyguard meant the slightly older man was at the mercy of the schedule of his charge. Rumors persisted that the queen wanted her future daughter-in-law as thin as possible in order to appeal to the nobility so he would not have been surprised if a meal was skipped. Fortunately, the former farmer had no intentions of being faithful to any diet. She knew her current image was what appealed to the masses, the people whom she was meant to invoke loyalty to the crown, and so she had no fealty to any goal to make her into a half-starved waif. As far as she was concerned it was Luke's task to keep the wealthy, spoiled, and entitled aristocrats supportive. He understood them far better than she ever would or could. Peasants were best left to the peasant and scions to the heir.

After deciding she was ready to eat Rhiane declared an idea that left Tobias so stunned that his mask of stoicism slipped: lunch with him and a couple of her maids. Technically there were no rules from Queen Camilla expressly forbidding sharing a table with servants. It was for this reason that her plan was allowed to come to fruition. There was no one immediately available to come to the prince's bedchambers and share a meal with the princess elect who was of appropriately high stature, she expressed she did not want to dine alone, and there was not enough time to summon the monarch and have her decide whether or not such a request could be permitted. It would later undoubtedly become the talk of the palace. Rhiane, future wife to their prosperous kingdom's ruler, chose the company of her subordinates. It was both a salacious story for the courts and an endearing tale for the public.

The two ladies brought to the prince's quarters were dedicated attendants to Rhiane specifically. Viola was a relatively new appointee to the staff, three months younger than Rhiane, from a noble family on the lower end of the social strata, and all too eager to seize the opportunity that had been offered. She had long dark hair that fell to her waist, eyes that almost looked black except in the brightest light, and a pronounced hourglass figure that was only overshadowed in the presence of her mistress, Rhiane. By most standards she was quite beautiful but her lineage lacked influence or renown thus she was still an unwed maiden. Madeline was, by contrast, in her thirties, married to a butler, of sufficient social standing she exercised authority over senior members of the castle staff, and more homely in appearance. If she had been walking around the capitol by herself no one would have known she was anyone respected or exceptional. Madeline was short, heavier than the conventional aesthetic dictated, had a prominent nose, and had her brown hair cut to a somewhat unflattering length for practical reasons (allegedly her daughter pulled on it when it was longer).

They had been seated around one of Luke's table. There was no head of the table, though Rhiane would have been well within her rights to assume such a position, and the plates of food that had been delivered were large portions meant to be shared. Had the two maids and guard been by themselves they would have been given mass-produced dinnerware. It was the presence of the individual that would soon join the royal family through ceremony that demanded their lunch been served on fine china decorated with a delicate filigree design.

"Thank you for inviting us again, Miss Black," Viola gushed before glancing to Tobias and smiling brightly. Even a blind, deaf, and dumb man would have been able to spot the girlish crush she had on the handsome bachelor. Luke and his brothers were firmly off-limits to someone like herself so it was understandable why she might have such a fixation on Tobias; he was single, reserved, tall, chiseled, and lacked any of the arrogance that his peers had. She would have been hard-pressed to find someone more eligible and attractive among palace employees. Tobias's father, the late king's cousin, came from the same ancestry that had made Queen Camilla's former consort striking enough to be selected as her spouse. It only made sense that what made Luke such a renowned heartthrob would do the same for his relatives.

"You're doing me a favor," Rhiane promised as she portioned out some of the fall harvest salad onto her plate. "I realize this is a bit unconventional but it seemed silly to eat lunch by myself when there are so many people around. Besides, I am in your debt for all that you have been doing to help me adjust to my new life," she continued as she used a pair of polished silver tongs to place a slice of foccacia next to the leafy greens.

"You owe us no gratitude," Madeline with polite formality. As much as the princess elect was trying to cultivate a casual atmosphere it was nearly, if not totally, impossible for the professional woman to forego proper etiquette. "It is our duty and privilege to serve you."

"Even if that is true I can still be thankful," Rhiane countered with a charming smile. "It might be the chef's responsibility to cook but you can still feel appreciative for what he's prepared, can't you?" she said with a gesture to the decadent platters strategically placed where all of them could reach. "I think that's something we all too often forget, don't you? We take people and things for granted far too often and don't realize how blessed we are, how wonderful the world us is, and how everyone deserves recognition and praise for their accomplishments, no matter how mundane."

"You make a compelling argument," Tobias said to break the slightly uncomfortable silence that followed Rhiane's brazen statement. Viola was trying to keep herself from laughing imagining either Luke or Queen Camilla sharing the sentiment and Madeline had pursed her lips together as she tried to evaluate whether Rhiane was sincere or was perhaps using a convincing courtier mockery of their social class.

"Thank you Tobias. Does anyone call you Toby? Or do you always go by Tobias?" she asked curiously.

"I am always addressed as either Dark Horse 3, Tobias, or Mr. Lavanchy," he answered simply as he served himself marinated chicken breast that had been tastefully sprinkled with chopped herbs. The scent of the entree wafted through the room and was enticing enough that as soon as he had finished choosing his slices both Viola and Madeline were reaching for the plate to partake as well.

"Hmmmm," Rhiane said as she looked at her new bodyguard thoughtfully. She was admittedly in a bit of a rush for familiarity, in the hopes that she could create a level of trust that would challenge their blind indoctrination, but she didn't think that Tobias would be emotionally receptive to any such overtures. The princess elect knew she had to be steady and slow to earn his confidence; this was not a time to be impatient. Little did she know that she stately man was trying to do the exact thing to her but with entirely different motivations and ambition.

"May I ask you a question, Miss Black?" Viola ventured. Madeline's lips thinned in disapproval but she did not outwardly protest. To do so would challenge the former farmer's wishes and she knew that she was out-ranked. No one, not even the queen who endorsed the division of social class, would support such blatant insubordination.

"Of course! Yes, please, ask me anything you like- except perhaps to kiss and tell," she answered quickly with a mischievous wink. To her companions this was an absolutely reasonable boundary. No one seriously expected, not even the media, to be allowed a window into Prince Luke's most private and intimate moments. For her this instruction was given because she was genuinely uncomfortable with her brothed's incredibly bizarre romantic gestures. Voicing them aloud would make her anxiety regarding the future of hers and Luke's relationship exponentially inflated.

"In your interview you didn't talk much about your family," Viola said as she spooned freshly steamed vegetables onto her plate and then began to cut them into tiny bites as was proper manners. "What are they like?"

Rhiane had to suppress the urge to bristle at the question. She had avoided the topic because the estrangement she had from her father and brother was so painful, so difficult to bear, and so demoralizing that she had been unable to even place a picture of them on her wall. It was easier to try to forget they existed than remember the parting words that had carved large wounds onto her heart. But it was unconscionable to pretend they didn't exist. It was for their benefit she had even considered entering their contest and it was for them alone that she continued to play her part in the spectacle that was being compared to Cinderella on the evening news. As angry as she was with both of them she wanted to honor them even if it was in the privacy of the quarters of a man they hated above all others.

"My father is a tall, like Tobias, but he's a bit wider," she joked as she tried to recall happier days. The fond tone she took one immediately made even Madeline drop her silverware and pay rapt attention; there was such love, such adoration, such reverence in her voice it was bewitching. "Everyone thinks because he's large, and facial hair, that he looks like a bear and must act like one, but he's actually too much of a people pleaser. He is too kind to say 'no' even when someone is talking him into a bad deal. Mom always said he was a bit of a doormat when someone came to him with a sad story. Gerald is a giant too, but almost all muscle, and has the opposite problem with people. He has a heart of gold but he gets frustrated very easily, and loses his temper, and we spend more time trying to calm him down for being upset over the smallest things... but he's bright. Sebastian and I always told him he should have pursued a higher education. He has such amazing focus, and dedication, that I think he'd be brilliant in university."

"What about your mother and other brother?" Viola asked gently in a voice barely above a whisper.

Nolan suspected that there was something wrong when Sophia Keller stepped out of the car with her pretty head bowed and her glorious black hair shielding her face from curious eyes. He had been with Luke long enough to recognize a broken heart when he saw one. What struck him as odd, however, was that the crown prince spent half of the way to the air base trying to reach the woman. If he meant to end their dalliance, then he could have just sent her a clinical rejection letter, which Luke probably had a template for. The fact that he didn’t, but instead ate take-out from a fast food restaurant for lunch and waited for more than an hour inside a parked car, probably without assurance that she would appear, was evidence that he did not intend to end anything that afternoon. Then again, it was not his place to meddle with anybody’s personal life, especially not his passenger’s.

But it was still difficult not to try to guess what happened in the few minutes inside the car. Even as he expertly navigated the traffic, he kept on thinking back to the little details that might be a hint to solve the puzzle. However, if his royal highness’ behavior was any indication, Nolan could sense nothing amiss. The brown-haired man was still too absorbed in what he was doing to even show a either a hint of happiness or sadness, or anything in between. He was on the phone with different people for purely business purposes, which Nolan did not care about.

“Are we going to make it before 4 PM?” The passenger’s eyes were fixed on the tablet, most likely reading a report, or maybe editing a document. The truth was that he was reading about Alec Wescott, Chief Operations Officer of Evolab, the name Sophia uttered when Luke asked who. Wescott was not a descendant of any of the noble houses. He was an American expatriate. Technically, Luke had the capacity to revoke Wescott’s permit to work in the kingdom. It wouldn’t be too difficult to do so, as all it required was his signature and seal. But that would be too obvious, an obviously a desperate move too. It was not worth tarnishing his good name for. Besides, he was Prince Alessandro Lucius Castiliogne, lady killer, the most desired bachelor in Europe. He would not waste his time running after one woman who turned her back on him when there were others fighting for his attention.

“There is plenty of time, your highness.” Nolan’s voice cut through his thoughts. “We are meeting with the rest of the boys, switch cars, then we will be on our way to Evolab’s headquarters.” Good thing that the traffic was always in their favor. The privilege of driving for the crown prince.

It was two in the afternoon. Luke closed the window showing Wescott’s impressive degree and work experience and went back to editing the short speech he was asked to deliver that afternoon. He read two sentences from the middle of the page before he brought up the communicator window and typed in ‘Tobias Lavanchy’.

Tobias,

Where have you two been today?

I need Rhiane to meet me in the Evolab HQ at four o’clock this afternoon. Advise her attendants to prep her for a formal business event. I trust that they know how to properly dress a lady, but be the judge. I do not want to see the my fiancee either over or under dressed for the occasion.

Call me and let me talk to her if she refuses to dress and/or leave the room.

Luke

"He wants me to go a formal business event with him?" Rhiane asked after Tobias recited the relevant paragraph of the message for her response. The princess elect was not angry but rather confused; after being so excited about his 'day of freedom' she couldn't begin to imagine why he was wanting of her presence. She fully expected him to reappear this evening griping about the implants and the inconvenience of the invisible collar they created. This was such a stark deviation from his exuberance at having a day of independence it made her quite uneasy. Either she vastly underestimated his about-face regarding engaging in a genuine romance or there was an unanticipated problem that resulted in the sudden summon. She was genuinely uncertain which she found more frightening: that he craved her attention and wanted to be a true couple in every meaning of the word or that there was trouble brewing on the horizon that he strangely thought she could somehow assist with. As proud as Luke was she could neither imagine nor conceive a situation that he, nor any other member of the royal family, thought she could be beneficial to involve. Rhiane knew she was a publicity stunt, meant to smile and wave, to be pretty for pictorials, and to eventually bear children, but she was not meant to be influential or meddle in anything of greater importance.

"Tell him I decline the invitation on the basis I was medically advised to rest," she said after a moment's thought. There was nothing to gain by going to this so-called business event. Either there would be an expectation of honest affection in the event Luke was demanding her for emotional fulfillment or he desired a contribution towards whatever endeavor was being forged. If it was the latter and the dealings soured she would be a scapegoat- even if they succeeded she would never be given any praise or credit. Rhiane had enough 'no-win' scenarios in her life without indulging the spoiled heir to the throne more than necessary.

Tobias paused for a moment and then, without the slightest reaction to his words, bent over to key a message to his second cousin. His features were as stern as always but he saw a golden opportunity- one in which he could illuminate how he was superior to the crown prince with his compassion, his humility, and his understanding. Not only would he poke the bear but he would try to juxtaposition himself so that Rhiane would find it impossible to not draw a comparison. He did not need her love but he needed her trust if he was going to recruit her and turn her away from obedience to the monarchy. If she was stolen successfully from the clutches of Queen Camilla she could be a devastating loss, one that would be able to shed a light onto the reality of both the castle and nobility through her experiences, who would no longer owe them obligation, and could stoke the fires of revolution with her effortless charisma.

Your Highness,

Miss Black wishes to follow the advice of the royal doctor and stay at the palace to rest. We watched two films today, as I advised earlier was her intention, and dined with two of her maids for lunch. At no point have we left your highness's quarters. I will discuss this matter further with Miss Rhiane.

I believe that I will be able to convince her to attend. Should I encounter further difficulty, I will notify you shortly.

Sincerely,
Tobias Lavanchy

It was as formal as was protocol between the two relatives. Tobias's father was elevated into the aristocracy when Luke's father was made king but it by no means but the two on equal social footing. To the lords and ladies of the court the darker-haired man was the inferior of the fair-haired by birth. If he had chosen to pursue a different lifestyle perhaps Tobias could have achieved a title but beneath his stoicism he did not have the iron stomach for the treachery that was more common in the throne room than the common cold. There was a subtle jab in the missive, however, that was reminiscent of how the nation's leaders typically conversed with each other. Tobias all but suggested he could better persuade Luke's fiancee than he himself could.

"Miss... Rhiane," he started as he put down the device and turned back towards the sultry figure that had once again splayed herself on the sofa. Although he was no interested in any sort of relationship beyond the platonic towards her she was captivating in a distracting manner. Her long, thick, dark hair looked remarkably like a river of decadent chocolate, her bronzed skin shone under the mid-day lighting, and casual clothing could not completely conceal the curves beneath that had won her the hearts of most of the male population of New Rome. "I can summon the medical staff to evaluate you if you think you are still unwell."

"No, not that is not necessary, thank you," the princess elect said quickly.

"If I may be so bold, I think you should reconsider Prince Lucius's request," he intoned quietly in his deep baritone voice. Normally Tobias would not have cared an ounce. More than once he had turned a blind eye to the drama that filled the walls of New Rome's most revered building. It was his hidden investment that compelled him to intervene now when he never had before.

"Why is that?" Rhiane asked pleasantly. She was suspicious of both his intentions and reasoning. While his companionship had been somewhat enjoyable during their movie binge of the morning that did not make them close confidants. The former farmer had not yet lowered her defensive walls for her bodyguard nor anyone else in the employment of the crown; it was too premature for such faith.

"His highness said he needs you and I do not believe he would put forth the effort to contact you through me unless he felt it was beneficial," he replied. Tobias also knew the heir apparent to be a shrewd businessman but he did not want to laud praise on him, not when he was trying to turn Rhiane's eyes away from his virtues, and not when he was trying to encourage a mentality that would be susceptible to defection. "And his reputation is closely linked to your own. If he were to bring you to a meeting that reflected poorly on you, it would also negatively affect him, something of which he is surely aware."

Rhiane stared at Tobias for one long moment before sighing and rising to her feet. "I suppose you have a point," she admitted. There was still the risk Luke was harboring feelings she did not want to reciprocate but if she wanted anyone to listen to her, to view her as more than a pawn, she couldn't hide away and only display herself as the pretty face was relegated to embodying. "Very well, let him know I will be going," she remarked, "but I want you to come with me so that I may depart early if he discovers he'll need to stay late."

The five-year-old Crown 56 was a well-maintained car owned by a lieutenant, who happened to be in the right place at the right time when Luke stepped out of the building. To say that Lieutenant Corning was bullied into loaning his automobile to the higher-ranking officer was a lie. First of all, it was Nolan who approached the lieutenant and not Luke. Second, and more important, it was a temporary trade in favor of the other officer. The aged, but well-maintained Crown 56 for one of the super cars that the prince’s bodyguards had the privilege of driving. Corning didn’t even bat an eyelash.

The ride was pleasant enough, though not at all comparable to what Luke was used to. He can manage to read from the screen of his computer, and with enough care, even type an email or annotate a document. It was not the ideal working environment, but he could manage. He had to, because time was of the essence. Luke had not yet told Rhiane, but their hours in the capital was already numbered. The queen confirmed that the couple was set to depart the following day. There were no details of their itinerary yet, but he anticipated days spent convincing peasants that the crown was on their side, which meant that he was expected to be at least courteous if not supportive of their pleas. Then the nights would be reserved for lavish parties meant for socializing with the nobility. Two different worlds whose loyalty he was supposed to secure. Just the thought made him tired.

Just then, the communicator notified a message. It was from Lavanchy, and it was bad news. As expected, his princess refused his request. Stubborn woman. If only she knew how quickly she was climbing up the ranks of the most frustrating people in his world. She was actually a close second to the queen.

Tobias,

Kindly do so. I leave her in your capable hands.

Also inform Ms. Black that she may dine in the common dining room next time she plans to have lunch with the maids.

Luke

He was unsure how his sudden invitation was interpreted by Rhiane Black. If he was in her shoes, he would have taken it as a follow through for the flirtatious attempts from the night before, or perhaps a testimony that he was sincere when he told her that his temporary freedom was not the best thing that happened to him since the day they met. But at that point, there was little chance that she could guess why he was asking her to join him. It was neither for political reasons, nor for business reasons. He could have appeared by himself, which was his original plan, but then the Sophia incident happened. Unfortunately for him, she would be in attendance together with that American COO, therefore the need for ammunition, which was his fiancée. He was not expecting her to conduct business or to converse intelligently with the investors and other important guests, she just needed to be both present and presentable. Luke believed that she would have no problem with the latter.

A few more minutes and they were switching cars. Nolan was just too relieved that their little excursion encountered no incident that endangered his passenger’s life. Luke personally thanked the happy lieutenant before they drove away. The venue was not too far away. With their pace, the navigation system estimated that they would be arriving in fifteen minutes. Luke hadn’t heard from Tobias yet, but he hoped that his second cousin was able to convince the farmer that there were merits in conforming to the crown prince’s whims.

There was no message from Rhiane’s new bodyguard even as the car stopped in front of the main entrance to the mid-rise building. Before he left the car, he keyed in a simple message that read:

Report.

There was no shortage of the word "PRESS" or "MEDIA" – from the gate to the paved walkway leading to the main entrance. Cameras flashed in the late afternoon sun as the future ruler stepped out of the car, still clad in his perfectly pressed uniform (minus the hat) and aviator sunglasses. He did not bother to smile for the cameras, unlike the advise he gave Rhiane the night of their engagement party, as his long strides conquered the distance to the interior of the building.

Tobias had called on Madeline, Viola, a pair of beauticians, and a handful of other assistants and attendants to help prepare the lounging princess elect for a formal business affair. When they were summoned the cosmetologists had feared a repeat of the day before, of arriving to find that the former farmer had wrecked her hair in particular as she had on the island adventure, but were pleasantly surprised to find that was not the case. Rhiane was casually dressed but otherwise presentable- just not for the event that Luke was requesting her sudden attendance. They had set out at once to comb through her wardrobe (all of which were designer labels selected for her without any input) as she was guided to the nearest palace salon for more thorough preparations. She didn't catch all the lingo that was being thrown around but she heard words like "conditioning" and "mask" and "cutting-edge treatment" dripping off their lips as they conversed in front of her.

A few minutes out. The bodyguard's reply was terse and lacked the formality of his previous correspondence; he simply didn't have the time for a proper salutation and signature. In the lap of the commoner-turned-future-princess was a tablet with a variety of information he had gathered at the last minute on Evolab. Rhiane was not terribly familiar with navigating the device, much like all the other sophisticated technology she had come into contact with in the last week, and so his attention was on providing her assistance rather than detailing the last two hours in excruciating detail.

"We've arrived, Miss Black," the driver notified them through the intercom seconds before the luxury vehicle came to a halt.

"Has Luke already arrived?" she queried Tobias as she slipped the tablet into a leather case and set it on the seat next to her. Peering out the window she could see the frenzy of media correspondents who were sizing up her car. Rhiane had not been one of the announced guests, she suspected, as they were excitedly pointing in the general direction with confusion on their features. As she awaited her answer the driver had stepped out and circled around to the door.

"Yes, I believe he has," Tobias stated just as the driver opened the door. Fortunately he was a shield from the press as he exited the vehicle before her. This had been planned so that he could take her hand and make sure she didn't falter as she stepped out. Rhiane also knew that if she was going to have him be her assigned companion and protector it would be easier to integrate him into her schedule sooner rather than later. If she was doing this favor to Luke he could cope with her also utilizing the media presence to make an introduction.

"Miss Black!" rang out a multitude of voices as they saw her emerge.

Yesterday she had been, by her own admission, not in the best shape physically. Today was an entirely different story. The setting sun kissed her bronzed skin. Although it had been tanned by years in the fields she shone like a goddess of the beach rather than the rural villages at the edge of the kingdom. She wore a designer peplum top with a belt across the empire waist that drew attention to her proportions without being scandalously immodest. Paired with this was a pencil skirt that, with her hourglass hips and long legs, accentuated her figure while remaining professional. Rhiane also carried a small black clutch and wore tall stilettos that made her tall enough not to threaten Luke's height but look more natural on his arm... though at the present moment it was Tobias whose arm took hers stiffly.

"Miss Black, care to make a statement about who is with you today?" she heard one particularly loud woman project over the crowd.

"Certainly," she said with a gracious smile as she glided over to the sidelines of the gathering. Her long hair had two small braids at the temples that had been used to fashion and natural low ponytail at the nape of her neck. A fashion editor noticed this hairstyle and snapped a few photos as she drew closer to undoubtedly broadcast for others to replicate. "Queen Camilla has appointed this gentleman, Tobias Lavanchy, as my personal bodyguard."

"A male bodyguard?" someone called out incredulously.

"That question is sexist, don't you think? I believe he was appointed he was the best candidate for the position- and that is more important than if he's a man or woman, isn't it? We wouldn't want a woman disqualified for a position based on her gender so we must apply the same ideology to men. Mr. Lavanchy also happens to be Prince Lucius's second cousin through the paternal side so he has familiarity with the royal family that will be of great help to me when my fiance isn't available," she explained. There were a few murmurs but no one was brave- or stupid- enough to question the wisdom of the queen openly. Even if they had been so bold there was a certain amount of respect and reverence in the nation for Luke's late father and his relatives. No one discussed it in polite company but many had sympathy, if not pity, for the 'lost' or 'forgotten' in-laws.

"What brings you here today? Are you going to propose your vaccination program from yesterday's interview?" a newscaster ventured.

"No, no we have not even begun discussions. So far that is just one of my dreams," Rhiane said with a smile still on her features though it rapidly became more genuine at the mention of the charitable outreach notion she had. "Today I am here to support my future husband only," she confessed.