“Duly noted. Next time, I will ask the kitchen staff to serve raw peppers.” With his profile to her, his head bowed and eyes skimming over the messages that had accumulated on his device, his fiancée might not have noticed the amused smile playing on the prince’s lips. He could lie and say that he pictured the scenario that she was painting with her words, but to what end? He was not trying to impress his sick fiancee and perhaps she would not believe him even if he tried. Rhiane might think him callous if he said what he was thinking, but the word farm all but meant food and economy to him. Never had the soles his shoes touched the muddy soil. If his mother could have her way, she would ensure that neither her sons nor her daughter would ever set foot on the land of the poor. Luke, on the other hand, felt that he had no business visiting the agricultural sector of the kingdom, especially just for a photo. The reports he needed in order to make sound decisions were available at the touch of a fingertip.

A voice of a woman sung the notes to what sounded like a requiem foreshadowing the fate of the cast of the movie. The monitor showed a scene way before the last great war had begun – of a celebrated unsinkable ship and its rich passengers waving at the loved ones they were leaving behind. It was neither action nor adventure, which his fiancee confessed she enjoyed. The movie Titanic was more about romance and drama surrounding the unlikely meeting of two different worlds. Much like him and Rhiane. Though he did not mean for his choice to resonate the present.

His eyes lifted from the unread messages in his inbox after hitting send. ”I will send you my itinerary,” the message to Sophia said. ”We can meet in one of the cities outside the capital, just don’t forget to inform me in advance so that I can make special arrangements.” Just not that night. Rhiane’s condition required attention. Besides, after he talked back to the queen, it was not beyond her to turn the implant on to ensure that her son would not sneak into the night on his last night at the capital.

“We can watch Godzilla next, but we will be up all night if we did. There are several movies starring the giant lizard. I may know a number of movies, but I am not an expert when it comes to film.” Instead of looking at her, he raised his eyes to the monitor. “The twins are. They used to bully me into watching movies with them, especially the scary ones. It was my father who introduced me to pre-war movies, though. When I was a kid, we watched animated movies together – 2D and then 3D – it must have been amazing to live in those days, witness technology evolving.” A smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

The smile was short-lived as the door slid open and Nolan, one of his bodyguards, stepped into the threshold with the computer Luke asked to be brought to him. The prince gestured for the sharply dressed man to enter the room, then thanked him briefly for running the errand for him. “Anyway, this is a good film. Probably better than my cousin’s choices.” He dragged a table in front of the chair he was occupying, setup the computer, then started reading through the reports he failed to review earlier. Once in a while, he would glance up the monitor to watch a bit of the film or take a bite from the dinner that had gone cold, but mostly Luke let it play in the background while he caught up with his work.

Sometime while the movie was still playing, he received a call from the security service. He excused himself and stepped out of the room. “Sire,” the person at the other end of the line greeted. “Our people have tracked the waiter that served the wine to the princess elect.”

Luke leaned against the glass panel, nodding as if the other person could see him. In a low voice, he answered, “My order still stands – investigate, but do not engage. He might lead us to whoever was behind all these.”

“Negative, your highness. Our people found the waiter dead in his apartment.”

“Dead?” Luke repeated, as if to confirm what he had clearly heard. Seb predicted the same fate for the waiter who brought them their food. Could it be a that he knew more than he allowed himself to tell the prince?

“Yes, sir. The suspect was found dead. A piece of evidence retrieved at the scene could point to the resistance. There will be a full report before midnight, but I thought that I should give you a heads up.”

“There is another person.” He looked over his shoulder at the frosted glass door. Behind it was the victim of the failed assassination, the other person’s sister from a different mother. The prince was sure that she would not like the course of action he was toying in his head, but then again, he was not doing the investigation just for her. It was his job to enforce justice, and that was what he was going to do. “If the investigation comes to a dead end, remind me to send you the name and details of this person. He may know about the perpetrators.”

“Sire?”

“Thank you for the advance information. I will give further instructions upon your recommendation.” Luke cut the line without waiting for any acknowledgment. He walked back to his chair beside Rhiane’s bed a little distracted. Instead of watching the figures on his computer, he stared at the movie. If his team would hit a dead end, then he would have no other choice but to invite Sebastian Legrand to answer questions.

Rhiane had spent almost all of the first half an hour of the movie splitting her time between watching the story being woven and wolfing down her meal. The nurse checked in once, whispering to Luke it was good she was consuming so much since the poison had effected her digestive tract, and that eating was far better for building strength than anything that could be provided intravenously. The attendant had also checked her vitals once over and marked her chart. While the medical team was still on high alert for potential complications they were satisfied for the moment that the recovery was going smoothly. The princess-elect was visibly uncomfortable with all this attention from physicians and associated professionals but she did not try to rebuff them. Sebastian's chastisement had retained its effectiveness.

After two hours she had begun to droop slightly. Unfolding scenes elicited a wide range of reactions: confusion during the romance, excitement during the action, bafflement during a portion of the drama, shock when it was revealed the entire ship was sinking and that it was woefully unprepared to save everyone aboard. The woman had honestly professed to her royal fiance before she didn't believe she was capable of finding true love. It was this same unfamiliarity, how utterly foreign the emotions it evoked were, that led to her being puzzled or annoyed at the choices of Rose in particular. A few times she shook her head in disbelief but she did not interrupt by saying anything aloud. The pre-war film had been made with the assumption the audience wouldn't be as firmly a stranger to romantic experience as Rhiane Black.

By the two-and-a-half-hour mark, she was struggling to stay awake, although this was not the movie's fault. The nurse had come in twice more, changed her IV bag, and administered a mild sedative when Rhiane wasn't looking to help her rest better. It wouldn't force the future queen into sleep but it would help her sleep more deeply when she allowed herself to drift off. Rhiane was determined to see Titanic all the way through and kept shifting herself in the bed or opening her eyes wider than necessary to keep her focus. Now that it was clear the movie was centered on a tragic finish about a rich woman and a poor boy she was sad to see the cruiser sink; it was her favorite character thus far.

Luke's phone rang again; this time it was his security force providing a second update on their investigation. The end of Titanic was less than half an hour away but Rhiane had started to lightly doze. She had begun by laying flat on her back, her arms at her sides, the same position she had been put it when she was first moved to the bed. As her eyelids had fluttered shut she had rolled to her side unconsciously, facing Luke, close to the edge but in no danger of falling off her luxurious mattress. Even her breathing had slowed to a measured easy rhythm that denoted she was at peace as her slumbering face suggested. When in the realm of dreams the sultry, assertive, stubborn farmer looked like the innocent maidens she had to distance herself from.

"Your highness," the security force man greeted once he had been permission to speak. It was the very same once that he had conversed with earlier in discussion of the deceased waiter.

"We've discovered some correspondence between the waiter and what appears to be another member of the rebellion. I will send copies to your device immediately, but I wanted to warn you of their contents beforehand. It appears that the waiter was arguing with another individual about what course of action to take with regards to Princess Elect Rhiane. The waiter wished to have her killed to further their cause."

The man took a deep breath before continuing on. "While this is good news, your highness, the individual he was sending messages to indicates there are several rebellion sympathizers or members- he calls them 'our people'- already within the castle. No names are given and we are still tracing the individual the waiter was speaking with. Our analysts say that these messages have multiple layers of encryption hindering our process. From the word choice we believe it is possible this other individual might not necessarily know who or how many infiltrators there are, just that they exist, since he failed to boast about their numbers."

The nurse had gone back into the room while Luke was taking his call and tried very gently to help Rhiane roll to her back once more. Despite her efforts Rhiane would not stay on her back; as soon as the nurse's hand left her shoulder she had rolled to the same side without so much as stirring. The nurse was clearly frustrated but short of restraint- which was not warranted- she couldn't make the brunette comply. Realizing that they would have to make do she began to delicately tug at wires so they were not tangled under Rhiane's limbs, torso, or hair, and that she could continue to be monitored through the night.

Sophia was different from Rhiane in such a way that the latter was much too quiet when watching movies that if not for the occasional beeping sound that the various apparatus made and the diligent intrusion of the medical staff, he could have forgotten that he was not alone in the room. Luke politely asked the last nurse to take away his dinner. Unlike the princess elect, he did not find the appetite to finish his meal.

His phone rang a few times, but if it was not from the security team, the prince dismissed it. He was anxious to hear from anybody who could brief him about the latest findings. When finally the screen showed the encrypted code he identified as from the group he was aching to hear from, Luke hurriedly got to his feet and excused himself, unknown to him that Rhiane had fallen asleep. “Speak.” The single word was full of urgency.

“I understand.” Luke nodded at the nurse whose turn it was to conduct a routine check on the patient. His home was compromised. It would be difficult to assume that every single staff working inside the castle was clean, but hearing that his team found a compelling evidence that solidified the hunch was not at all reassuring. Sooner or later these people would make a move against his mother, his stepfather, his brothers, or worse his beloved little sister. “Multiple layers of encryption much like our own? Be very discrete about this matter now that we know that there are spies among us.” The head of Technology and Forensic IT was a lord that was a relative of Luke’s stepfather. He would need to talk about this to the prince consort and the queen at the soonest possible time. “We will handpick a team to handle this sensitive issue. Send me the correspondence, but you should stop digging for now.”

“Your highness?” The officer sounded confused. Didn’t the prince say that it was top priority to trace the trail that instructed the assassin to try poison the princess elect?

But the crown prince found it unnecessary to explain his actions. He would order the investigation to stop and he expected the palace security team to comply. As he told the officer, it was a sensitive matter. Should the spies find out that there was an on-going investigation, there was the possibility that they would implement a desperate course of action. He was firm in his instructions to stop. “Wait for further instructions, officer.”

Luke immediately made a call to his mother as soon as the communication was cut. “Mother,” he said as soon as he heard her voice.

“Lucius, it is past midnight.” The queen yawned. “You should be having a beauty rest, because the media will be all over you and your lovely betrothed tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t – Listen mum,” Luke sighed. There was a looming PR nightmare add to the threat the security team just discovered, and yet his mother sounded like she was more concerned about appearances. “There is a disturbing development concerning the incident this afternoon. I will send you the report and the evidences as soon as I receive it, but-- ”

The queen cut him off with her sweet words, “Listen, darling. Whatever it is, it will be tomorrow’s problem. Or perhaps later. There is nothing you can do about it now so just turn off your comms device and your tablet and go to sleep.”
“Fine, but read the report as soon as you can.” He was more than a hundred percent sure that the queen would call him as soon as she did. She was a woman who was fiercely protective of her family.

“Yes, I will. The situation is under control. Nobody is asking questions anymore.” She sounded pleased with what Ms. Viscomi and her staff could do. “So, go to sleep.”

He didn’t. Luke couldn’t even if he tried to. Especially after he read the full correspondence and concluded that the resistance had more than one plan for the princess elect – either she became their pawn or she died. Her death would definitely hit a blow to the reigning monarch as surely as if she sided with the rebellion.

A beep from the apparatus stole his attention. The monitor had long been turned off, forcing silence to accompany him that night. His eyes turned to Rhiane, who was sleeping peacefully in her bed. He hoped the nurses would consent giving him the same drug they had injected in the IV so that he could sleep like her, as if there was nothing wrong with the world. His mother was correct. There was nothing that he could do about the situation that night. Without the queen and the prince consort’s help he could not order to pursue the investigation without risk of intelligence leaking out to unauthorized recipients. And even if he mobilized the Tech and Forensics IT, what was the odds that they would unearth anything of significance that night.

Finally taking his mother’s advice, he leaned his head against the soft mattress of her bed, popped a pair of wireless earpiece on and played something comforting on the monitor. She asked him why he loved watching film, the truth was that for a few hours, he thought he could live another person’s life. Slowly, carefully, he let go of all controls and finally surrendered to sleep.

The morning brought the medical team who, after much debate about waking their sleeping patient and royal fiance, reluctantly came into the room to run a battery of tests. Although Rhiane had been cleared last night they did not want to rest on the figurative laurels of victory. Before discharging their patient they drew more blood, swabbed her throat, checked her nasal passageway, and performed a comprehensive exam. They all knew that the queen would come down on them so hard they would wish for their own deaths if they sent the princess elect into the world only to have her collapse due to poor health that could have been conceivably prevented. Losing a patient was always a tragedy for a physician. Losing a patient on worldwide broadcast, and thereby obliterating the reputation of their kingdom and country, would be catastrophic.

Their worry was for naught. Despite having an intense dislike for medicine in general, Rhiane was relatively healthy. Sebastian's instructions to heed the doctors kept her compliant enough for the process to be expedient. Elena Villani, who was not an individual to be intimidated, gave thorough instructions for a modified diet for Rhiane. Not trusting that the former farmer would be completely faithful to it- she was not ignorant to the brunette's love of food- she copied it to Luke, Queen Camilla, Tobias, and the head of the attache that would be seeing to the newly engaged couple's accommodations over the next several weeks. The latter was not given an explanation for the dietary concerns that Rhiane suddenly developed for the next several days, nor why she was under a doctor's care (Elena knew he did not have the clearance), but she knew he would not question the implied authority she held.

In addition to some oral steroids to expedite the healing process she was to gradually re-introduce strong acids to her digestive system. This displeased the princess elect. She'd have to temper her love of spices, of citrus, and of vinegar-based salad dressing until mid-week. Elena was not concerned about having heartburn or acid reflux, but rather preserving the more raw lining of Rhiane's esophagus. Very fortunately the muscle should heal quickly. It was a minor inconvenience given the life-and-death battle that had waged the night prior but Rhiane was a touch grumpy. The sheer thought of missing out on a local delicacy during their trip was a travesty.

As to the rebellion's intentions towards her, and the part they did or did not play in her poisoning, Rhiane remained oblivious. Anyone that might treat her differently she attributed to other events: they were legitimately charmed by her demeanor, they felt compassion towards her struggles, they pitied her, or in the event of servants they felt camaraderie for her as a peer who grew up under less than ideal circumstances. The palace had heirs of lesser known aristocrats sworn to the crown, but that did not free them from the disillusionment that could come from being socially immobile in their caste, and sympathetic to someone of a similar plight.

The only visible impact Luke's discovery had on anyone besides himself was that their retinue underwent another furtive security check and additional loyalists were added to ensure that no revolutionaries would be able to 'access' Rhiane on the tour. If there were infiltrators in the castle itself it stood to reason that they had more presence, more cunning, and more resources than previously calculated. The possibility of a kidnapping occurring had been laughable. Now that an assassination attempt had happened at an elite, private event meant they had to prepare for both avenues of attack: abduction or murder. Rhiane's security detail were still largely under Tobias's direction, as her personal bodyguard, but they now rivaled the number of men that would accompany Luke to an official public event.

The first day of their tour catered to Rhiane's interests although not by design; they visited the studios and independent galleries of artisans and artists outside the capital. None of the citizens had works eligible for consideration in the castle proper but their craft was held in high regard by the local populace. Undoubtedly this 'stop' had been planned in an attempt to appeal not only to commoners but also to suggest they had upward mobility into the higher rungs of society. The harsh reality was that very few, if any, truly did, but the fantasy had to endure to keep the status quo. Rhiane engaged with their guides and hosts with uninhibited enthusiasm and passion. She asked specific questions, praised every piece of pottery and oil painting of landscape, and let almost everyone solicit her for photographs. Tobias at first tried to keep her from involving herself quite so much but once it became apparent she wouldn't cede to his control and it was garnering extremely positive PR, she was allowed to exchange stories, ask them for advice, and even purchase a few smaller items that she had intentions of sending home to her family. One reporter following at their heels was so enamored with this choice they could overhear her describing Rhiane as having a "heart of gold."

The focus was so fixated on Rhiane that any polite disinterest by Luke was easily overlooked. What was also very easily missed (or dismissed) was that there was little to no physical affection between the pair. Unless Luke went out of his way to hold her hand, kiss her cheek, or wrap an arm around her shoulders, she did not initiate any such gestures herself. No one expected this of her necessarily, but its absence would become more odd in a few weeks, especially if they were supposed to be infatuated with one another. In private she maintained this same sort of respectful distance. Rhiane was friendly and went out of her way to make it clear to the press she thought of Luke fondly, but he knew perhaps better than anyone else she was not an intimate companion, and she seemed to hold her feelings out of reach of them both. As tempestuous as she was the farmer was not without discipline in certain avenues of her life. The masses would have been appalled to know she could be bribed more easily by a slice of cake than a sweet kiss from her future husband.

Day two of the tour was much like the first. Instead of touring artisans they went to see members of the oft-mentioned 'middle class' who worked in large buildings, in impersonal cubicles, and were viewed as 'worker bees' by their superiors. This was a stark departure from organizing an event with the CEOs and presidents of such businesses. Breakfast took place at a hotel that emptied their banquet halls to accommodate the the crowed of programmers, engineers, accountants, salesman, secretaries, and the like. Lunch was at a park- which troubled Tobias greatly because such an open space seemed more dangerous- and their audience was much the same. Some smaller business owners were randomly selected from a pool to have the honor of an official visit. Rhiane continued to be her charming self. Each woman that shook her hand was also bestowed a compliment about her complexion, hair, dress, or eyes, and similarly gentlemen were gifted the same, though she took care not to make the flattery seem inappropriate. In conversation she asked about their careers, their schooling, their spouses, their children, and, most importantly, cared about their answers. If someone cut off the answer of a colleague she would gently scold them and allow the first person to continue.

The reporters' coverage of Rhiane continued to be flattering. She was seen as humble and engaged rather than haughty or distant. The largest scandal was that a few male admirers were caught on camera confessing that they were jealous of her arrangement with the prince. Luke had his love-stricken fanbase as well, which were swooning over his chiseled features and sharp attire, but it had been quite some time since there was a young introduction to the royalty. That Rhiane was wanted, perhaps even coveted, was a novelty that sold airtime and publications. Becoming a national object of desire felt silly to the subject in question herself, even if the had cultivated a sultry image during the contest, and she laughed uncomfortably during the footage of the would-be suitors.

Day three was to be their last day in an urban area before they moved to industrial sectors and rural towns. Thematically it was a day focused on education. They toured schools with awards for excellence with a trail of cameras following behind. In the elementary school that had been selected Rhiane absolutely insisted on reading a children's book personally. The principal summoned some of the other classes and the soon-to-be princess had a crowd of five-year-olds crowded around on carpet. She was more at ease than the teachers, half of which were awestruck and red-faced, and used silly voices during her reading to help earn the approval of her audience. A few girls and a couple boys boldly raised their hand for an informal Q&A with mundane questions like what color she was wearing to the wedding ("It's a surprise!"), how old she was ("Just a little older than you are!"), and what kind of cookies were her favorite ("Chocolate with chocolate chips and chocolate chunks!"). The schools for older children were just as awkwardly stunned with teenagers trying to discreetly ogle the royal of the opposite sex. Rhiane was gracious with the administrators, telling them anecdotes of her adolescence, about how she tried to find loopholes in the rules, how she wanted to be a on boys' sports team, how they sometimes called her older brothers down to her classroom if she was unruly. These innocuous little stories helped to make people forget, albeit temporarily, that she'd become co-ruler someday and was not just a woman they met for lunch. When they all laughed at her argument about what color to paint the sky when she was eight there was no pretense of formality.

But Rhiane didn't have quite the stamina that Luke possessed. While she was the darling of the nation during the day, at night she barely made it through dinner without yawning. Each evening she would drape herself on the most convenient piece of furniture and pass out given the chance. Fortunately she was so exhausted that her regular nightmares did not plague her. Unfortunately, this meant either Tobias or Luke had to cart her to an appropriate place for sleep since rousing her was next to impossible. Given time she would adjust to this new schedule, but until her body stopped waking her before dawn for the fields she no longer tended, she dead weight once her eyelids drifted close.

The night was long and restless for Luke. Every time the glass door slid open, he would lift his head from whichever furniture he last leaned his head on to ask how Rhiane was doing. Every time he did, the nurses reassured him that the princess elect was responding well to the medications. The earphones and the movie did little to help him get better rest that at one point he just turned it off and forced his mind to shut down. But dawn came too soon, the prince was roused gently by a shy nurse and then a call from the queen.

The call was about a brief meeting over breakfast that the prince eagerly attended not because he wanted to be rid of his sick fiancee, but because in a few hours he would be leaving the capital without resolving the breach of security in their home. It meant leaving his sister as vulnerable as Rhiane was the day before. The thought didn’t sit well with him much more their overprotective mother. The queen wanted to double the bodyguards of her children, but Luke argued that it also doubled the chance that a rebellion sympathizer had access to one of her children. One thing Luke agreed, though, was to increase the bodyguards of Rhiane from just Tobias to something at par in number with his escorts.

The head of Technology and Forensic IT came in when the prince was half done with his meal. The gentleman was not privy of the complete story behind the incident, but he might have had a clue. It was the prince consort who broke the details down to his cousin. They continued discussing about the options they had to be able to flush out the rebels among them. Most of which included an increased interaction between the suspects and their external contacts.

Then again, Luke had to leave if he didn’t want to become the cause of delay of their itinerary. His mother insisted that he go and assured that he would be updated with every development of the investigation. On its initial phase, a special taskforce will be formed from the Tech & IT. Every member will be handpicked for their family background, competency, and the Houses they belonged in. The assumption was that the closer the tie that the queen had to the House, the more loyal its members were. Meanwhile, he was to personally look after the farmer without her knowing it – from her diet restrictions to preventing any sharp object from ever touching her skin.

The following days were filled with activities involving a lot of fake smiles and the media. Ms. Viscomi and her team were geniuses in planning PR activities for the crown. They orchestrated subtle, but meaningful nods to the efforts that the reigning monarch was doing for the betterment of the lives of the citizens. It aligned itself with the apparent acceptance of a low-born farmer into the royal line. As if her presence gave hope to the marginalized population that finally their voice would be heard.

But if they knew what was going on behind his royal highness’ polite smile, they would think otherwise. If he could, the brown-haired gentleman would turn on his heels and fly back to the capital. He could be more useful elsewhere. Meeting with the head of the palace security was more important than holding his betrothed’s hand in front of the cameras. It was not to say that he did failed to fulfill his duties while they were hopping from city to city day in and day out. Luke was following a strict schedule, and none of his meetings was cancelled, except on instances like when he was asked to address the artisans or the young professionals. If the princess elect had more airtime than the prince, it was because the latter would sometimes excuse himself to attend a conference call. The queen permitted the arrangement only because it was a necessary evil. The only good thing it caused the couple was an improved allowable radius of up to 200 meters.

Luke juggled his duties between staying pleasant in front of the camera and being stern when it came to his subjects. On the third day of their tour, after he had finished talking to the queen’s economic advisors, two of his bodyguards escorted him to a classroom teeming with cameras. The sea that was called media parted for the future king. And as he stood at the doorway, he was surprised to find the farmer sitting in the midst of curious stares of children absorbed in the way she brought the story to life. He could only imagine how the young creative minds were picturing the world that she painted with her words. Instead of walking up to her per the polite suggestion of one of the organizers, he leaned against the doorframe and watched her animated face in action. She did it on her own. Luke was the freeloader in that PR stunt. She achieved the public image that his mother so desired on her own, without taking notes from him. It was the better course of action, he thought, because none of the members of his family would admit to be an expert in blending in with the society that was not in the same class as they were.

The day ended with the two of them retiring to a penthouse in the city’s most luxurious hotel. It was nothing like Luke’s private residence, but it was comfortable enough. They had dinner, and just like the nights before that one, Rhiane fell asleep on the couch while watching the news. Luke was on his computer, as always, talking to her about the local currency, when he looked up and noticed the person he was talking to had fallen asleep in the middle of the discussion. By that time, he was used to her odd sleeping behavior. Given that he was a light sleeper, he envied how the farmer could doze off seemingly anywhere she laid her back on. Smiling to himself, the prince left the charts on his screen and picked her up carefully. He did tell her that she should stop making him carry her to bed.

“Good night, princess.” Luke carefully deposited the woman to the bed. On their first night, it was Tobias who found the woman sitting on a dining chair with her head resting on the pillow of her arms on the table. It was this occurrence that helped the prince to negotiate with the queen to increase the radius of the leash to a hundred meters after the daily itinerary. He was still bound to the princess elect, but he could do work and attend conference calls without disturbing her.

Suddenly there was a knock at the suite’s door. After a pause, Nolan popped his head in, searching the living area. “Your highness?” Luke had just closed the bedroom door by then. “You have a visitor,” the older man declared.

The door swung wider as Nolan stepped aside to let the visitor enter. “Don’t ask how I know your room number,” Sophia’s smile was knowing. “Well, it is kind of obvious, to be honest. Hello Luke.”

He was expecting her, but not in the room he shared with his fiancee. They agreed to meet somewhere else, agreed that Luke would give the go signal after he made excuses believable enough for the queen to release him from his prison long enough to meet with her. Of course, she had no idea about the predicament that was inhibiting the prince to freely see her. He looked over his shoulder at the door he just shut, then back at the face he had longed to see those past days. “Have you had anything for dinner?” he asked.

And just like that, the report he was reviewing on his computer was forgotten. The night became his and hers, a stolen moment under the bloodshot moon, perhaps something that he would later regret. They made up for the time that they were apart, not fearing that the morning might bring consequences that was out of their hands. But the morning did not find the woman in the prince’s suite. She left hours before dawn, just as the credits on the movie they watched rolled up the screen.

“Luke, I’m flying for the United States with Alec,” she confessed before leaving. When he asked when, she just smiled and kissed him. A tear rolled down her cheek. Then another. Luke was speechless. There was nothing that he could promise to the actress that could reassure her enough to stay. He could not promise that he would be with her, because it was physically impossible. In the end, he had to let her go holding on to her word that she would return in a few months – maybe.

---

Two hours was all he had left before the retinue would arrive and force the couple to be presentable for the day. It was for a long-distance travel or about an hour flight to the kick-off point where they would be traveling on wheels up the mountain ranges to a much colder reaches of the kingdom. Luke had never been there, because it was a logistics nightmare to bring a royal to such a place.

When it was time to leave, the prince demanded to pilot the aircraft. He loved flying and claimed that it calmed him whenever he was coasting above the clouds. The night of his engagement, he flew an unmanned drone around the castle through a remote virtual cockpit to take his mind off the unavoidable event in his life. Once they reached the prescribed altitude and was stable above the clouds, Luke hit the auto-pilot button and excused himself from the co-pilot.

“Rhiane.” He was wearing aviator sunglasses, which he took off as he approached her. She was not allowed to sit beside him and play the co-pilot during the take-off for safety purposes. But once they were at the mercy of the flying machine, he asked her, “Would you like to see the view?” He had to take his mind off Sophia. In the past, someone else worthy of his attention would cure his pathetic lovesick heart. Maybe it would work again for him only until the charade was over. Besides, she was performing well when she was happy.

The sun was just rising above the clouds, not too harsh for the eyes, but still bright enough to hurt. It cast a golden orange glow just that stretched over the horizon, over the fluffy bed of pristine clouds. The color blended with the blue that stretched overhead.

Rhiane had been combing through articles, blogs, blurbs in social columns of editorial pages, and the like for reviews of how well-received she had been the day prior. While she knew that this was something that Ms. Viscomi was already constantly monitoring in her capacity as their PR advisor and coordinator, she liked to see with her own eyes what others were saying. Moreover, she knew that the focus of the queen and therefore her employees was on how Rome in particular was reacting to the newly engaged pair. Not only did Rhiane want the details of exactly what her country's people said about her, she wanted to know the impression of international citizens, who were harder to understand but incredibly candid. Commoners in other nations did not have to worry about Queen Camilla intervening if they wrote a large volume of negative comments. The queen was powerful but not so much so that she had free reign upon all the world's inhabitants written words.

Almost everything she could find was a glowing endorsement of her disposition, her humor, her humility, or other personality aspects that were found to be endearing, but there was one consistent criticism in those that had any: absence of affection. It was not abnormal for anyone to doubt that Rhiane and Luke were madly in love with one another. In their heart of hearts everyone knew that it was at least a partially fabricated fairy tale; however, if they were trying to sell the public on love, the public would at least want glimpses of infatuation. Much as Rhiane would prefer to blame Luke, simply to preserve her pride, she knew she was just as at fault for this crack in their polished image (if not more).

The young woman had sworn off romantic fantasies and forced herself to become even more pragmatic than she already was after the death of her mother and father. With stalwart dedication she never let physical intimate encounters infringe upon her feelings. Men had used her and she had used them to fulfill a need, nothing more, and she made herself view it as no different then wanting to eat, drink, or sleep. What had changed was that she had pretend she was in love with Luke. This already a difficult task before she got to know him well, but she had erroneously assumed because she found him attractive, because he was intelligent, because he was invested in the illusion of marital bliss they would come to an easy arrangement that suited them both.

Now she had to admit in that facet of becoming princess elect she was failing. Today it was a vague statement buried in paragraphs of praise, only spoken by every hundredth person, sandwiched between compliments about how she was the princess everyone had been waiting for to represent them, but it wouldn't be such a trivial concern for long. In a few more weeks the raised brows and hard stares would grow. By the time the wedding actually rolled around the indifference they had, the distance, the barely-friends aura would be even more apparent.

But what was even worse than being unable to act as if she was in love- at least so convincingly that people could be convinced it had miraculously occurred in an arranged marriage- was that she didn't want to pretend with Luke. He was handsome, he was clever, he was thoughtful, and he was charming when it suited him, and could have been a genuine Prince Charming; but Luke was only warm when circumstances forced him to be. Luke didn't like Rhiane and she would rather not fight for his consideration. If he loved another woman, or man, or no one at all, there was nothing she could do about it. Trying to earn his approval was a battle she would rather not join, and would instead rather spearhead initiatives for better medical care for the poor, scholarships for those with ambition but dwelling in poverty, funding for the arts so that their culture could thrive under more than just the aristocrats.

Rhiane was so lost in thought she was startled when Luke approached and addressed her. She almost jumped out of her seat in surprise before taking a deep breath and gaining her composure. There was no reason for her to feel guilty about anything, she reasoned, and definitely no reason to be uncomfortable around her fiance.

"Aren't you supposed to be flying the plane?" she teased as she powered off her device to give him her full attention. "It wouldn't kill you to get some sleep," she suggested lightly, "I can't actually sleep enough for both of us to be rested, even if that's what it feels like I've been doing."

Was it that obvious? Luke was not getting enough sleep since they left the capital. Between the carefully orchestrated publicity stunts, which unfortunately was supposedly meant for rest, was the only time that the prince had to deal with the problems he left at home. He may have people doing the legwork for him, but it was in his nature to want to personally see to it that everything was running smoothly. The reason he was tired that day had nothing to do with work, though. On the contrary, he let it sit alone on the desk while he faced a problem of a different nature. As far as he was concerned, Rhiane was too deep into her nightly beauty rest to know what he was up to the night before.

Luke was blocking the doorway to the suite that the princess occupied inside the private jet. It was a compact, yet luxurious space equipped with entertainment options installed across a white leather-covered sofa. It had its own bed and bath, suitable for long flights. Luke was surprised to find his fiancee awake and not spending her spare time napping.

“That is true.” Luke nodded thoughtfully, thinking back to the last three days that they spent sharing the same space. How easily she fell asleep as soon as she found a surface to lean her head on, and how he or Tobias carried her to bed. “And I can probably get more sleep if a certain princess does not snore like a congested rhino.” It was obvious with the way the corner of his lips twitched to a sly smile that he was exaggerating. Rhiane was not a bad roommate. She seemed uninterested in his attention, she was not trying to seduce him into sleeping with her, and most of all, he could pretend that she was not around because she could fall asleep relatively early and not stir until dawn. He pushed himself from the frame and walked to where she was lounging rather comfortably. But before he could repeat his proposal to watch the sunrise with him on the cockpit, a knock sounded from behind.

“Excuse me, your highness and Ms. Black,” the voice started. Luke could pretend not to hear, but he knew better. The cheerful voice of the tour’s perpetrator was not prepared to be shut-off by the moody royal. Besides, it was a rare opportunity those days to be able to speak to the couple without any camera pointed at their direction.

He motioned for her to enter before crossing his arms over his chest. Beyond the pocket door, he briefly had eye contact with his cousin, Tobias, before the latter looked out into the clouds outside the window. The door slid close behind Ms. Viscomi. “This will be quick,” the woman announced, all smiles.

“Make sure that it is. Nobody is flying this thing.”

Ms. Viscomi was the least concerned at the prince’s declaration. She had accompanied the royal family in several of its private jets to know that at some point, it could fly on its own. Nevertheless, she reaffirmed that the meeting would not take much time. “Our next destination is a town called Arossa. It is a remote town which grows and trades fruits and vegetables that thrive in cold climate. This leg of the tour aims to strengthen the public image of Ms. Black by showing off her knowledge in the industry.” She turned her attention to Luke. “We have arranged a dialogue with the local farmers, your highness, and they would appreciate it if you would address them directly.”

“I do not see the benefits in having a dialogue with the farmers.” It was with clinical aloofness that he answered the appointed image manager. “What would they talk to me about? Ask to subsidize the cost of fertilizers and high-grade seeds, or inhibit the entry of imported crops or perhaps ask for the land to be awarded under their name?” He could not, and he would not be placed in a tight spot by volunteering to hear the grievances of the poor. There were reasons for allowing foreign crops to enter the market, reasons why the land still belonged to the lords. Perhaps he could do something about the fertilizers and the seeds, if they asked for it, but he knew from experience that they would not be satisfied with what he was willing to offer them. “I would rather speak to Baron Ferullo. Arossa is his territory, is it not?”

“It is.” Luce Viscomi’s eyes flickered to Rhiane briefly, as if silently asking for her help to intervene. “My lord, we are working on your public image as well. If we’re going to sell the fairytale love story between --” The manager cut her sentence off. Her eyes widened momentarily, remembering something else. She took a deep breath before continuing, “Although the public has had an overwhelming response to the personality of Ms. Black, I remember reading about a weakness being pointed out by some people. It’s that you two lack the intimacy of a new couple.”

Luke glanced sideways at Rhiane. She did not like being intimate with anybody, more so with him. She made that clear the night he tried flirting with her and failed miserably. “I’m not cut out for theatrics.” He walked purposefully out of the room without waiting for anybody to say another word.

"- you, there's something different," one of Rhiane's female bodyguards was saying.

Two women had been appointed to the security detail for the princess elect when the decision was made to bolster their numbers to match Luke's. While the queen could not and would not admit aloud why she had chosen them, it was undoubtedly because there were places Tobias could not easily follow Rhiane, and since the poisoning incident they were reluctant to let her even use the bathroom by herself while in public. Both women had their accolades as guards at the palace but did not hold a candle to Tobias; they remained his subordinates even in their elevated positions.

"I haven't noticed anything amiss," the other female bodyguard responded skeptically. They were towards the center of the plane and seated in adjacent chairs conversing in hushed tones. The first to speak was Lia and the latter Octavia. Both were of aristocratic backgrounds, Lia's slightly more prestigious, and relatively good friends with one another. Neither had noticed Luke striding out of the room and possibly near their vicinity as they bent their heads together.

"He just looks at her differently. It's subtle but he... I don't know, he watches her intently, and not just because it's his job. Don't you think it's tragic? Half of the castle would be happy to be with him and the one woman he might have the mildest hint of feelings for and she's taken," Lia lamented. She was among his admirers even though she was wed. Like the royals her marriage had been a political arrangement, not a union born out of love.

"I think you're imagining things," Octavia sighed. "The person I feel most sorry for is Prince Luke," she whispered to Lia.

"Marrying a peasant," Lia remarked with a sad shake of her head. "They tested everyone thoroughly in the contest, and as nice as she is, I find it hard to believe an exceptional farmer is better than any lady he could find in the capital." What she was suggesting was unkind but the popular opinion in the palace and the upper echelons of high society. While they stopped short of accusing her outright, they thought Rhiane was less intelligent, less beautiful, less clever, less artistic, less everything of matter. To consider her their equal or better was so uncomfortable it edged on blasphemy. It did not matter objectively if Rhiane could beat them in a hundred tests- their bias had to persevere and they had to be better.

"I'll speak with the farmers of course, but you didn't come here to ask me to speak with them," Rhiane said to Ms. Viscomi once Luke had disappeared beyond the threshold of the door. She knew the answer before it left her lips. All the world knew that the princess elect was a farmer before she had been catapulted to national fame as fiancee to the heir to the throne. This stop would be less spectacular than its predecessors; there was a passive expectation in having a former former speak with farmers from another province. Newscasters could even potentially find the scenario boring. At the same time, the media would latch onto the absence of Prince Luke. They would see it as a sign of rejection of Rhiane's past, of her prior peers, of her upbringing, and some of the citizens most likely to join the rebellion.

"I take responsibility for being uncomfortable with public displays of affection, Ms. Viscomi, and I have seen some of the same criticism you have. Can you prepare a list for me of the names of the farmers I'll be meeting with as well as, if possible, a physical description? I think that it will go much smoother, and leave a positive impression, if I can try to commit their names to memory beforehand," Rhiane suggested with a smile.

"Yes, of course, but..." Ms. Viscomi began to protest. Her goal of trying to persuade Luke into addressing the farmers of Adrossa personally had not been met; furthermore, she had failed to elicit a promise from Rhiane she would help advocate on her behalf to the stubborn royal.

"You'll have to excuse me, Ms. Viscomi," Rhiane said as she stretched out her long limber legs and rose from her seat. Tobias turned from staring out the window. "I promise to review all the information you compile for me, but first I was invited into the cockpit by the prince, and I don't intend to refuse the offer. It is the queen's wish we become more familiar with one another is it not?" she said as she flashed a charming smile. As she moved forward to step out of the room Tobias did not follow. Rhiane was safe on the plane and it was quite evident that this was a private affair in which he would be imposing regardless of how silent and stoic he remained.

"Of course, Miss Rhiane," Luce agreed with slightly more forced enthusiasm. There was no easy way to object. She had pointed out a lack of intimacy not even a minute ago. To keep Rhiane locked in conversation would impede the rendezvous at the front of the plane and make her a hypocrite, something she was not eager to do. If she contradicted herself even once both Luke and Rhiane would latch on and twist it to their advantage when a future critique was called into question.

It was difficult not to overhear conversation in someplace as compact as a moving aircraft. Even with thoughts of the absurdity of the whole fiasco plaguing his mind, he could not help but hear the hushed words being spoken between the two female bodyguards. At first, he thought it nothing more than gossip between women about another woman who they were both acquainted to but was absent that moment. He really shouldn’t mind it. Gossip was common in the royal court. Half of it was rooted on something that might be true, but the other half was fabricated lies and half-truths. Then again, Luke thought he heard his name whispered by one of the ladies who still didn’t notice him walk past them. He paused then took one step back. “Ladies, please. Gossip doesn’t work that way,” he chided softly. Both women were taken by surprise. One nearly jumped off her seat if not for the seatbelt she forgot to unbuckle. “The subject has to be out of earshot when you talk dirt to his sorry self.”

“Your hi--” The seatbelt pulled Octavia back to her seat. Lia was already on her feet, bowing from the waist down as if it was necessary, while her friend fumbled with the latch in an attempt to free herself. “Forgive me, your highness. There was no ill intent in mentioning your name in our conversation.” But his back was already on them, making his way back to the cockpit.

He did not hear the whole conversation, but there were snippets he could piece together. Like a certain “he” was looking at a certain “her” differently, which could mean that the former was being suspected of feeling something he supposed was romantic towards the latter, who was unfortunately taken. And then his name came up. The fact that his name was dragged into the conversation made him suspect that the “her” was his fiancee and the “he” was definitely not him. Who could it be then?

The musings about who were the characters in the latest court gossip was cut short when the door slid open and the playful colors of the coming morning greeted him. “Back so soon, my lord?” The co-pilot craned his neck from were he sat. “We still have about thirty minutes before preparing for descent. You may take a nap for the time being.”

Luke frowned. “Do I really look tired, Carter?” He wore his sunglasses and took his place at the pilot’s seat. Ahead was a seemingly endless fluffy sea of clouds inviting any observer to step out of the plane and bounce with the colors of dawn. The sun had poked half of its face above the clouds. Rhiane missed the few minutes when dawn was most beautiful.

“Not particularly, sir. Just -” Carter gestured with his finger under the eyes. “Nothing that the public will notice, I’m sure. Although it will be healthy for you to allow yourself some hours of sleep.”

The circumstances saved Luke from answering after the door slid open again and they both turned to see that it was the princess elect. Carter cleared his throat then got up form his seat. “Miss Black, please have a seat.” He stepped to the side then gestured for her to take the seat that he just vacated. A sheepish smile curved his lips. He was precisely the type of nobleman who Luke fought to be like – cunning, pretentions, and above all he knows how to play the game of politics. “I just remembered that I need to speak to Ms. Viscomi about the schedule.” With that, the co-pilot hastily left.

As soon as they were granted a semblance of privacy, Luke invited her to make herself comfortable in his co-pilot’s seat. “It is such a beautiful day to debate on trivial matters, princess.” He sighed and it looked like he was going to lift his shoes up the control panel, but the prince contented himself in just leaning against the backrest while he watched her from behind the darkened lens. “How is your stomach feeling today? I have not yet received notification from your doctor that clears you from the dietary restrictions.” She was forced into the exhausting field work as soon as she could get up from the hospital bed. Both Luke and Tobias was on edge that day as they watched after the princess elect, tried to anticipate any weakness in her speech, her posture, or her gestures. But there she was, carrying herself gracefully, articulately, without a hint that she almost did not make it.

“Are you here to argue on behalf of the peasants about the benefits of having a dialogue with them?” Luke asked out of curiosity.

Rhiane collapsed into a seat without a pretense of elegance once Carter was out of the room. Perhaps her fiance would find it unladylike but it spoke to a level of comfort she had around him in most ways. She had decided to be honest with him the moment she won the contest and so she was, becoming more casual in private, without bothering to fix the hem of her pants as she sat or crossing her ankles as proper etiquette dictated. "The poisoning was so four days ago," she complained though not loudly enough anyone would hear. "I've tried to have a message passed along that these dietary restrictions are ridiculous but they are unconcerned with my opinion on the matter." This was no surprise. Even when she was on death's door she had not seemed to take the event quite as seriously as the physicians would have preferred. No doctor nor nurse would trust her to be objective in analysis of her own recovery. Years of experience taught them that if their patient was reluctant to medicate, made frequent jokes about their situation, and underestimated acute conditions, they would continue to prematurely jump back into action.

"Not quite," she said with a shrug to his question about the peasants. "You know, I was thinking on my long journey to the cockpit," the Princess Elect remarked jokingly- she was tall for a woman and less than half a foot shorter than Luke- "about what it must like to be a crown prince. I've seen how much time and energy you sink into trying to help govern the country and spearhead projects of interest to you, but even among the nobility I would wager there are people that underestimate you, or don't understand some of the unique pressures of your station. They might judge you for missing an appointment, and tell others you are lazy, when you have a more pressing matter above their clearance. They might think you have such luxurious accommodations you must always be relaxing because they don't personally see you up late at night working. They might think your mother's praise is more easily earned, that everything comes naturally, that you do not struggle, because they see someone handsome, clever, wealthy, and powerful, who will one day be king."

Rhiane pulled her gaze away from the gently lit clouds and turned towards Luke, propping an elbow up on the side of the chair and leaning her chin into her palm to make certain he had her full attention. "People have a habit, myself included, of listening to others but not really hearing them. Back when I was a farmer, laboring in the fields, I didn't want a knight to ride up, sweep me off my feet, and pay off all my debt. I wanted to be heard. I wanted someone to understand how I had to work when I ran a high fever, because medication was too expensive, and the crop had to be harvested. To know that when there was enough bad weather I'd have to live off one meal a week. To not think because I rested in the winter I was lazy, because I destroyed my hands and back the other three seasons of a year. I know I can't make you talk to the peasants, Luke, but I think they are looking for, and hoping for, is someone to really see them and what they do, someone who is important, someone who might remember them when they are creating future policies."

She returned to reclining in her chair as she stretched her legs out farther in front of her. If she had taken off the heels she was wearing, which had returned to her daily attire as soon as her ankle was considered healed sufficiently for the strappy contraptions, she could have rested her feet on one of the consoles and taken a nap. Rhiane had plenty of sleep over the last few days but the soothing vibrations of the airplane and the utter lack of public to engage with made it a tempting place to doze. Two of her recently chastised bodyguards were wide awake but most of their retinue was enjoying shut-eye. There were not nearly as many security concerns while thousands of kilometers above the ground.

"In any case, I also wanted to remind you that Ms. Viscomi will report whatever we do, or do not do, to Queen Camilla... and the implants can be controlled from a considerable distance. I've shared close quarters with far less dashing individuals but I know it will hamper your work if you're seen as uncooperative and have the leash tightened. You'll have to listen to my, what was it? Loud snoring? at an even closer distance." She jested with a wink as she crossed her legs. Much as he detested being bound to her, almost certainly because he had other people he'd rather entertain or things he'd prefer to do alone, it bothered her less and less. Rhiane didn't mind the lack of solitary time. When Luke was particularly vexing she'd roll her eyes and wish she could run away, but he had been in better spirits since they began their journey she thought.

"I wonder if Ms. Viscomi could be persuaded to allow more sightseeing," she mused to herself quietly as her eyes drifted over the soft colors of the sky beyond the glass. Rhiane didn't have control over her diet nor her itinerary. Idly she considered it could be seen as a positive indulgence if they didn't just meet the people but also saw more of the national landmarks. There were architectural masterpieces, natural wonders, and breathtaking views that drew tourists that Rome's princess elect had never seen in person. Most of these spots were a source of pride for the locals. The crown wanted to warm the public to the newly engaged couple, but perhaps an argument could be made that a visit to attractions would encourage nationalism and be considered firm endorsements by royalty.

Thank the technology because he could hold a conversation alone with a non-licensed pilot inside the cockpit and not worry about the thing crashing into the sea. Despite the long night and a rather unpleasant news, the view of the sky and the peace that only an altitude of 35,000 feet could bring made the day feel a little less cruel. It was proof that flying had such a positive effect on him even though he would rather be flying a fighter jet than a private aircraft.

“Not quite,” the prince mused. His head turned away from the blanket of white clouds and lingered on the princess elect’s profile. The sun had made it out of the sea of clouds, effectively chasing away the shadows of the night. It bathed the two occupants of the cockpit with a gentle light, illuminating every beautiful feature on the princess’ face. Luke refrained from answering right away. Had they met under different circumstances, one where she was not a farmer’s daughter, he wondered if he would have made a move to get to know her the way he knew Sophia. Would they get along better if they had shared a common experience? If she was adequately schooled in whatever field she chose, would her ideas earn more merit? Because more than the pleasant appearance, Rhiane was charismatic, insightful, smart, and apparently good at flattery – characteristics of a woman that would have caught his attention.

“How odd is it that to me, it sounded like you did come to persuade me?” He leaned away from her with an elbow resting at the captain seat’s armrest. It had been decided that he did not want to sit in a room full of farmers only to waste his time listening to each person lament over his unfortunate situation. That conversation was over. She should take the spotlight and address the less fortunate citizens, because they relate to her so easily. It was her job. It was why she was chosen in the first place. While the masses adored the freshness of an unknown woman rising to one day become a queen, he would just be the same old intimidating crown prince no matter how he presented himself. Although actually, he knew no other way how to present himself. “If your argument is founded on the assumption that I too desires to share to the whole kingdom the burdens that I carry and how I work day and night – in sickness and in health – to give my people a chance to live a happy life, then it is a weak argument. Unlike you, I enjoy suffering in silence.” But he was not annoyed at her for being correct in her observations. In fact, he was smiling as he watched her watch the day unfold one second at a time.

Eighteen more minutes, the timer on the dashboard said. He followed her gaze into the sky. “Besides, if I do hold a discussion with these farmers, then it will be just as you say – hearing without listening. A false hope that the queen’s own son will represent them when they demand to limit the importation of some crops or transfer the ownership of the land into their names. I will not. At least not because I was swayed by the condition of the people who are feeding the kingdom, I will not because I cannot put an order without exhaustive study about its implication to the economy and to the noble houses.” His brows furrowed into a frown. “Therefore, it is better for you to address the peasants. My mother will not be made happier by the uncharismatic way I speak to people.”

When he heard her think aloud about the possibility of being allowed time for sightseeing, it got her fiance’s attention more than her perceived repercussions for not adhering to the plans of Ms. Viscomi. “She might not allow it. I need to attend a summit in the far east at the end of the month, which I think is why she is cramming as much activities in a day as she could. Still, we don’t need her permission.” As the crown prince, he rarely asked for anybody’s permission. It would be nice to take a break after three very tiring days on the road.

Luke cocked his head to one side, regarding her with an unreadable expression. “What about I consider talking to the farmers if you come with me somewhere relaxing and peaceful? I heard that there are hot springs and my family relatives own a couple. Or even better.” His eyes widened in amusement behind the dark shade of his glasses. A sly smile was playing on his lips. “Hold my hand and kiss me on the lips in public. I mean in front of the camera during a random shoot. Both you and Luce believes that I should improve the perceived relationship I have with the grassroot workers. However, it is not fair that only I would improve my image. You have to do something about the ‘lacking in romance’ comments from the internet community as well. If you did, then I will speak to the farmers myself and then bring you with me somewhere relaxing and safe.”

Rhiane rolled her eyes so hard she thought there was a very real danger they would detach. It was true that she had won the contest that catapulted her to the position of future royalty in no small part due to her charisma. As darling as she was to most of the nation, there were very hard limits as to whom she could affect. All of the aristocracy had a bias against her and thus an immunity to her charms, with the sole exception of Luke's sister, who admittedly seemed to like everyone. Luce Viscomi was a lady that did or should know how the courts felt about the princess elect, and yet she had still had faith that Rhiane might reach Luke, the man who had the most reasons to hold her in contempt. It would take weeks, months, years before the staff of the castle was friendly towards her. Either Luce was ignorant of the polite rejection and scorn of her peers and superiors or she had been convinced the fictional romance was real.

Truth be told they were caught in a cycle. Luke was stubborn and didn't want the interference that Rhiane manifested in his personal life. She was a disruption, a distraction, poorly educated, low born, and forced upon him. Because of the circumstances he didn't want to listen to her and became irate, which just made her not want to listen to him, and that in turn made him even less willing to listen to her. Neither one wanted to bend. On separate paths they functioned well, but when there was a convergence there was a battle of opinions and wills. He had heard her this time, she mentally conceded, yet it hadn't changed anything. His stance was unwavering, hers was unwavering, there was no revelation a peasant could manipulate the audience better than even Luce Viscomi gave her credit for, and all she had accomplished was wasted effort.

When they had first met, Rhiane had professed she was be completely honest with Luke. She apologetically and masterfully navigated social situations like a professional, putting on a mask of such mixed sincerity and deception that not even she could tell where one began and the other ended all the other time, but she had no such pretenses with Luke. He was always granted a front row seat to her truest self; as such, he saw a wide range of emotions flicker over her face.

After rolling her eyes she had been annoyed, then indifferent, then doubtful at his suggestion they sneak off somewhere without asking permission, but upon his suggestion of a trade the color drained from her face. The cool and composed woman looked petrified for a moment before she turned her face away and flushed from the apples of her cheeks to the tips of her ears. "I thought you weren't cut out for theatrics," she said, quoting his words earlier with a slight tremble in her voice. "Besides, didn't you just explain why you wouldn't and shouldn't talk to the farmers?"

Although it sounded as if she was turning him down, there was a distinct lack of refusal. Rhiane was afraid. She was a daredevil when it came to jumping off cliffs into water, trusting he'd keep her from drowning because she couldn't swim, she didn't whimper and cry about being poisoned within an inch of her life, she hadn't flinched at any physical tests of the contests, and hadn't been intimidated by anyone at title who looked at her with loathing. It was romance that was her kryptonite. She was so terrified of attachment that would end in heartbreak that she had chosen to be alone rather than risk rejection. The princess elect had alluded to this before in casual conversation; she had proclaimed that there was no chance for her to have actual love, so she had chosen to be a contestant for Luke's hand precisely because realistically romance was impossible, and they could be companions with a more pragmatic relationship.

Rhiane was torn. On one hand she was personally invested in seeing her peers publicly respected and listened to by Luke. She had no delusions that he would suddenly make changes in law or policy, but them having his attentions for even a few minutes was priceless, and this offer may never happen again. On the other hand, she would be offering up her deepest vulnerability, something she was loathe to do even with the people she trusted the most. "If I agree you wouldn't be able to push me away in front of the press," she tried to point out. It was clear she considered this a distinct possibility; that he'd be so disgusted by holding her hand or sharing a kiss that his revulsion would override composure. She had not shared this thought with Luke, which undoubtedly shed some light as to another reason she withdrew in his presence.

It amused Luke how the emotions played on her face plainly – from dismay to apathy to shock then confusion until finally it seemed that his gaze was too much for her and she had to look away blushing. The prince leaned back against the backrest with a smug smile, taking off his sunglasses as if to enjoy the color that crept up her cheeks. Was he enjoying her apparent discomfort? Of course, he was. He thought it was mean that he teased her to a position where she was blushing like a middle school girl. Rhiane could not even look him in the eye. But what else did she expect after she boldly walked up to him to ask him to do something he plainly refused to do?

As if it was not enough, he declared the obvious. “You are blushing.” Luke turned his seat so that his body was facing hers. He fought against the urge to touch her cheek and gently guide her face towards his so he could see how the entirety of her face looked like. Instead, he leaned his weight forward on his elbows resting on the armrest so that his face was as close as it could get to hers. “How easily your principles sway, Ms. Black.” He teased hearing that she was grasping for reasons, even using his own words, in order for him to take back the challenge. As if she was willing to forego the cause she had so boldly and almost passionately argued for.

“Let me remind you as well that Ms. Viscomi will report whatever we do - or not do.” Her words were chosen to emphasize his point, much like she did to counter his. “She pointed out your shortcomings like she did mine. Therefore, it is only fair that it is not just I who will be forced into doing something that I believe is both counterproductive and unnecessary. If I need to improve my image with the masses by listening to peasants speak about --” He cut himself before he said something that would irritate her more than he already did. “If I need to talk to them to prove that the crown cares, then you must show affection towards your fiance and prove to the world that this is more than just an arranged marriage.”

He reached for the armrest of the co-pilot seat, then gently nudged it until she was facing him. Luke, unsatisfied with the closeness, crouched over her and tilted her chin up slightly so she would be forced to look up at him. A few strands of dark locks strayed from the perfectly brushed side part. “And have I ever pushed you away?” It was the other way around, actually. On one occasion, he did flirt with her just to tease her, but she practically ran away from him. She never consented to touch him which he thought was good at first, but then it got him thinking what it was she saw in him that made him so repulsive.

When they first met, he was intent on doing everything in his power to stay away from her. Thus, during their first dance he proposed how they would live the rest of their lives separately without the other meddling in the other person’s affairs. However, as days went by, perhaps because of the punishment that earned him no more than ten meters from Rhiane (except when he has a scheduled conference call), the curiosity grew. He could have any woman in the kingdom, yet there was this one woman, who was virtually nobody, who did not care that she was going to marry the crown prince.

“So what do you say about practicing?” Luke teased. “Just close your eyes and move your face closer. I’m sure you’ve done this before.”

“Almost time to --” Carter paused in mid-step right at the threshold. A mixture of surprise and contempt was on the co-pilot’s face. It was difficult to mask an emotion when it was induced so suddenly. Luke saw it, but he neither moved nor explained himself. “My apologies.” The young noble took a step back allowing the door to slide close.

There was no use wasting her breath trying to deny the blushing; anyone with two functional eyes would be able to tell she was. If anything the shade of pink that had bloomed across her features only seemed to intensify despite her rich bronze tan. Rhiane was humiliated even before he pointed out her childish response to his teasing, but the jab at her principles was mortifying. She was not royalty yet but she felt a certain level of responsibility for the often-overlooked citizens of their county, and to have him verbalize she was prioritizing her feelings over their need for recognition struck her deeply. Had she been able to melt into a pile of goo and disappear from the plane entirely she would have seized the chance immediately.

"I never said I thought it was counterproductive and unnecessary," she retorted hotly, both irritated and offended. Luke had made no honest effort to woo her nor had she decided that the situation merited her dipping her toes into the pool of romance. Their first dance together had forged an agreement that they would keep their relationship as a business partnership at best- which was what nearly every arranged marriage among the nobility was. Rhiane had always conceded the fairy tale illusion that the queen wanted to craft of the engaged couple was 'productive' and 'necessary'; it was the execution of the plan that she struggled with.

The princess elect was grumbling internally with annoyance when Luke turned her chair, leaned over her, and tilted her head upwards. The glow of her countenance was now scarlet and she squirmed in her chair as if passively seeking a way to escape. Despite the discomfort she did not dare move; she knew he was both faster and stronger than she was. Rhiane stared up at him with wide eyes and parted lips in shock and confusion as he dared her to come up with a time he had pushed her away. Her words failed her. It was not that she lacked an answer, but rather than his presence, his intimate posture, and his breath on her made it impossible to find her voice.

She had heart palpitations and was on the edge of a heart attack or panic attack when Luke suggested practicing- only to be interrupted by the co-pilot. Something about seeing his expression out of the corner of the eye pulled her back down from where she had been thrown into mental orbit. Until that moment she had been worried about what a kiss would reveal. Things were not so easily hid in a kiss as they were otherwise. She'd be able to feel his revulsion and contempt, his disgust for her heritage, his detachment as he tried to imagine she was someone else. More than that, however, she was worried about emotions might be conveyed unintentionally as she entangled herself. Rhiane knew better than anyone that part of her distance to preserve the integrity of a very vulnerable inner self. What she could deny, suppress, and ignore could surface in an instant where control was lost in embrace.

"All my acting," she said once they were awkwardly alone again, "has always had some truth in it. I've never dated, I've never been in love, and I've always intended to keep things professional," she explained quietly with mustered confidence. Rhiane had slept with men but they had been physical affairs only. There hadn't been long talks, sharing dreams of the future, exchanging secrets, or stealing glances at one another. After one or two fulfillment of one another's needs they had gone their separate ways without expectation or attachment. That's what she expected of Luke, for him to want to keep things impersonal, but he seemed to enjoy pushing her for his own amusement.

"Even us lowly peasants have our pride," she said, a slight tremble still in her words, and her intentions transparent. Instead of avoiding invoking his ire as she had been doing recently, she was now purposefully provoking him in order to to push him away verbally. If she belittled and rejected herself he couldn't do it to her; if she made him so angry he didn't want to even touch her then she wouldn't have to find excuses as to why she was impossibly attracted to such a difficult, devilishly handsome individual. She had discovered by accident he loathed her self-depreciation. "You don't have to lower yourself by pretending to like me we're by ourselves." There was a flash of vulnerability despite objectively daring him to say he disliked her intensely.

If she had spoken less impulsively she might have realized someone as intelligent as Luke would read between the lines. Once his head cooled he could make several conclusions about her behavior, but most importantly that she was was not the robot she feigned. No matter how pragmatic her approach, she wouldn't put this much effort into forcing distance unless there was danger otherwise. Luke's stoic cousin showed no interest in most women but he did not flee them. He ignored them and turned them down, but Tobias had never been compelled to avoid anyone.

There was a hard assertive rap on the door as Tobias unapologetically pushed past Carver. "Prince Luke, Miss Black. I apologize for the interruption," he said in a monotone that belied his lack of remorse, "but unless Miss Black has been cleared to occupy the co-pilot seat, I need to escort her back to her quarters per safety regulations."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rhiane had provoked him and braced herself for the impact of his rejection, but it still stung despite her attempts to mitigate the emotional damage. No one wanted to hear they were unworthy, that their feelings were ridiculous, that they were unwanted by another individual. It had little to do with romance and everything to do with human nature and the very basic need for reciprocation of caring. That he could so smugly dismiss her and then request she perform an intimate gesture, with the laughable excuse they needed to practice, cemented her resolve to distance herself from him at the first opportunity. Certainly she had agreed in public to feign affection but she had made no such promise in private and there was nothing to gain if she indulged him now or in the future. Even his proposal had been for a kiss during a broadcast, not in the cockpit, in exchange for speaking to the farmers. She could imagine now he'd ridicule her if she had obeyed- he'd mock her ability, or her submission, or her weakness, or any variety of perceived lesser qualities simply because being a bully amused him.

"No," she stated quietly but defiantly.

Truthfully Rhiane wasn't certain what exactly had just transpired. Before Luke had faced off against Tobias he had said something about Lia and Octavia, but had not offered any explanation as to what the bodyguards in question had been talking about. It had to something concerning her, but she could not imagine what they might discuss with the future king and not her. The princess elect had been careful not to expose any aspect of herself that could be construed as a salacious secret to her new entourage. If anyone suspected her more true nature, her candid practicality, her baggage of the soul, it would have been Tobias. The cousin to the throne's heir was more observant than nearly anyone else she had met, the court included.

More mystifying than his throwaway comment about the two female guards had been the stares between the two men as they argued about safety protocol. There was no love lost between the pair. They were cordial and polite most of the time but there were walls erected between them from long before she entered the picture. Tobias was generally stoic, and Luke generally apathetic, so it was hard to imagine what could generate such animosity as she had just seen evidence existed. What made it more perplexing is that it had very suddenly appeared. When Tobias had been to escort her to the engagement ball there had been no posturing, no glares, no bristling as her arm was transferred to one to another.

"No," she repeated more firmly. "Why would I? You wanted me to in front of the cameras, but there's no camera here. Or are you now raising the requirements, only to perpetually increase them later, so that I am following your every whim in the hopes that I might get a prize just outside of my reach?"

Rhiane turned her head to the side. Her cheeks were still flushed with embarrassment and an emotion that eluded his grasp. Had he been kinder, more gentle, more understanding she might have foolishly acquiesced with his demands. She was not certain if she was more disappointed that he continued to be his mother's son, or that she almost took the plunge and risked everything to see what might be hidden behind his lips. Now she was certain only loathing, disgust, and scorn still dwelt there. Any fantasy that he was an equal measure of his peasant father had been dispelled.

"I didn't believe your mother's propaganda," she said softly with her eyes on the adjacent wall rather than hers. "I explained to you my difficulty in my acting. Whether you realize it or not, the populace will discover today, tomorrow, years from now that the romance is not genuine. Love is not something you that can be easily emulated when you've never felt it for someone," she said with more injury in her voice than she intended.

"I'm sure you can find someone more worthy to kiss you," Rhiane said as her eyes remained locked on the wall. And therein laid one of their many problems. Because it had been reinforced many times over that she was leagues beneath him, it was increasingly difficult to simulate a believable chemistry; with each interaction the future queen became more adamant the distance between them was too large to be crossed, and that there was nothing to be gained by trusting, but liking, by believing. Undoubtedly this had once been an issue with the queens and kings of past- but perhaps they had fallen to physical passions without as much thought as to their birth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Once Luke had returned to the cockpit to facilitate the landing, Tobias had given the princess elect time and solitude to compose herself. As soon as the wheels had touched ground, however, he was the first to to arrive at the door to Rhiane's private quarters. Lia and Octavia exchanged quiet knowing looks. There was no damning evidence that the handsome, elusive, taciturn guard was beginning to harbor feelings for his charge, but he was undeniably different. For years everyone in the palace had watched him be aloof and detached with his daily interactions. To see him so attentive, even more than his station required, made them incredibly suspicious. Rhiane herself was obviously oblivious, but it was hard to miss the quiet ease the pair had around each other, as if they were old friends rather than strangers only a couple weeks before.

In the war silently brewing between the cousins no one knew the entire story. Only Rhiane and Luke were privy to the fact they argued more than they agreed, that they had not shared any intimate moments while alone, and that they had agreed to keep their relationship professional. Luke was ignorant of Rhiane's suppressed feelings, Rhiane unaware of Tobias's fledgling crush, and Tobias unknowing that his calm, supportive disposition gave him a slight edge against the proud heir to the throne. For the people that were observing glimpses of the hurricane of emotion, misunderstanding, and acting, it was too confusing to understand.

"Was that really necessary?" Rhiane asked as she caught the keys.

Her demeanor had shifted the moment that Luke had strolled up to the vehicle emblazoned with 014 on its side. With Tobias she had been relaxed, telling him about a time she had unsuccessfully attempted to work her fields in the winter with an advertised 'winter crop.' It had been a failure but relevant to their next destination. That was one of Rhiane's many lessons that not climate and soil were both essential to the success of a seed's germination. Tobias had been as stoic as always but had not discouraged her from weaving her tale. That he listened so intently had made her smile, laugh at herself, and fall comfortably into her casual charms.

This charisma was more constrained with Tobias's departure. With Luke she was polite but guarded, conscientious of their proximity, and apprehensive about his attentions. This was visible to their entourage but it was glaringly apparent to the target of her anxiety- Luke himself- because he was so physically close to her. Because they had not resolved anything with their 'debate' not even an hour prior she was cautious. Rhiane had already been verbally rejected emphatically once; she was not about to risk anything to make herself an easy target a second time.

"I drove trucks on the farm," Rhiane said as she moved into the driver's seat and turned on the engine. She made a point of waiting until Luke strapped himself in before she decided to disclose that was the extent of her experience. The jalopies she had at home were wildly different from the machinery she was now about to operate. "How different can it be?"

With entirely too much acceleration they blasted past all the other vehicles. Rhiane was used to trucks that were of poor construction, that were often in disrepair, and didn't have as much power as what she was now driving. Instead of being alarmed by their rapid rate of travel, Rhiane was positively delighted. She was a giddy as a child graduating from a tricycle straight to a motorbike. Being the future queen hadn't had many tangible benefits she cared about- but this one finally appealed to her and almost made up for being disparaged for being a lowly peasant. In ten years she'd be dead. There was no sense wasting time with a little speed or a light testing of its turn radius.

Vehicle 014 barreled ahead, taking pinpoint turns, twisting and turning around every curve as its operator let out a peal of maniacal glee. Luke could have fallen out the side and she might not have been noticed. For just a few minutes it was her, the road, and a half ton of metal obeying her every whim.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rhiane was dazed, frozen in place, staring straight ahead into the forest beyond their destroyed windshield. Her brain was still struggling to process what happened when she turned that tight corner and something, some animal she had never seen before even in a textbook, was staring her down like a harbinger of death. She had been too stunned by its appearance to initially react. Luke had reached over and grabbed the wheel instinctively, steering them towards the left and around the creature, taking control during her moment of inaction. It had been the wrong choice but there had not been a right choice. They would not have been able to stop in time, a head-on collision with the beast would have killed all three almost certainly, to the right had been the ravine, and going to the left had left them so off-balance it was impossible to correct their course.

"The brakes," she murmured to herself. In that second before before they became airborne she had slammed her foot on the brakes. The pedal had been hammered into the floor but there had not been an ounce of resistance. Vehicle 014's wheels should have burned rubber before the momentum claimed them in a downward trajectory. Something should have happened- but nothing did. Had she been more cautious in operating the 4x4 intially, Rhiane could have had an opportunity to notice the sabotage before their lives flashed before their eyes. Logically fault lay with whomever cut the lines, dooming their trip even if she hadn't been reckless, but the princess elect blamed herself. This could have been prevented if she had not lost herself; they could have perhaps found a way to safely slow down to a stop rather than be flung through the terrain.

She finally released her death grip on the steering wheel to lay her shaking hands in her lap. Suspiciously none of the air bags had deployed when they struck the railing and flipped down the embankment. It cemented her fledgling theory someone had manipulated their circumstances. One defect could be accidental but two, two that would ordinarily lead to death, was damning. That neither of them were crippled or mortally wounded was nothing short of miraculous. "Should have..." she whispered again to herself as her eyes slid down to the spot where a balloon of air and fabric ought to have erupted minutes before.

Luke's hand grazed her shoulder and she jumped several inches. If it was not for him she might have been lost in the haze of the terrifying mystery for hours. "You're hurt," she said, avoiding his question unintentionally. Rhiane awkwardly pulled herself out of her seat, heavily favoring her right arm over her left, and spotted the shard embedded in his thigh. All color drained out of her face. For as courageous as she had been in the contest, in jumping off a cliff into water, in confronting her own mortality, she looked stricken. The rebellion had labelled her a martyr but were not that far in that assessment of her personality; she would much rather sacrifice her health and well-being for almost anyone else.

"I'll.. I'll... stay there. There should be an emergency kit in the back," she said as she crawled over the center console. There was some loss of mobility in her left arm, her legs were bruised from being around, and her mind was fuzzy, but none of these things bothered her the wake of her discovery that Luke had been harmed. A brand new first-aid kit was tucked under the rear passenger seat. Fortunately it was wrenched free easily so that Rhiane could move back into her seat. With mounting panic she unlatched the box and dug through its contents. She was genuinely unaware, but Luke could see she was still only utilizing her right hand, leaving her left to dangle uselessly at her side. Moving it earlier had proven it was not broken but the way she ignored it completely spoke to some level of impairment.

"We should patch you up so you stop bleeding," she prattled on to herself more than to him. There was a pair of gloves, antiseptic spray, needle and thread, a localized anesthetic, bandages, and something with a name she had never heard of before but that boosted an ability to heal cuts and abrasions more rapidly. "To reach it I'll need to get on top of you," she said as she tried to force herself to focus on a solution rather than the problem. Getting upset would do neither of them any good. Rhiane plucked the anesthetic spray out of the package and tried to steel her nerves. It was not as if she had never played nurse before. Neither her father nor Gerald had been able to handle tending to Edwin or her mother before their deaths.

Unexpectedly, however, a tear fell from her left eye. Another fell from her right. It was when she was staring at the moisture on her pants that she felt a choking sob rise up in her chest. Rhiane, the mighty and proud, who would argue Luke into madness, who didn't wince at the insults of the court, and whose throat had been burned with poison, was openly weeping. "I'm sorry," she heard herself saying between two heaves of emotion. "I never wanted you to get hurt. I'm sorry," she repeated, almost like a personal mantra. She was paralyzed with fear again, not at what had happened, but at what might have happened because of her stupidity.