Hashih

The Magic of Blood

Claire tugged her cap conscious about how a country girl like her must have looked like disguising herself as a man. It seemed that her gray jacket and worn trousers failed to fool the friendly fellow at the docks. Maybe the absurdity of her overall appearance was what went on inside the inspector’s head earlier which was why he looked her over the way he did. At least, this man, Bane Clawson, was helpful enough to show her the way.

But what was it that they say about the city? Claire hesitated on her next step. They said, there’s no real friend in the city.

Taking advantage of the few seconds he took his eyes off her, Claire tightened her hold around her bag and dashed away into the busy streets ahead. Never mind that she was the first to approach him. Forget proper etiquette. She should learn not to trust anybody, especially those with friendly smiles. Along the way, she’d probably come across a Peace Officer. She could trust Peace Officers, couldn’t she?

A low clacking sound followed her as she dashed through the narrow metal corridors. Thin slits carved out of the rusty walls allowed light to enter the pathway which led to a wider space where more of the passengers from different airships convened to conduct business of sorts. She pushed her way to the nearest elevator, offering half-meant apologies to the people she bumped, stepped on, or whatever. She had to lose the silver-haired charmer who she thought sought to rob her measly money.

The operator pulled a lever. The elevator whined, but slowly descended the metal tube down into the city.

---

Alistair Maitland was at Levi’s heels even before the latter could inhale the infamous rusty scent of the Capital. “Lord Wolferstan,” Alistair called to Levi’s dismay. The lord’s towering height and broad shoulders would catch the attention of any lady, but it was the metal fingers peeking through the sleeves of his left hand was a conversation starter. He was about five years Levi’s senior and was recently named Baron Maitland.

“Lord Wolferstan, the conference is not quite over. The lords are about to vote on our next action. Unless you refuse to participate, I suggest we return to the hall at once.”

Levi pursed his lips together. So much for a few minutes of peace. He turned back to the meeting hall, walking briskly side by side an old comrade. “Has Victor calmed down?” he asked.

“About the north’s neutral position?” Alistair grinned. “He’s hardly finished ranting about how you and your father should grow a pair of balls.” And how they deserved what happened to Levi’s twin sister, because they failed to rein their subjects in. But Alistair was wise enough not to repeat the old lord’s words, else the palace guards would be dragging a dead body very soon.

A lord who appeared to be in his early fifties was on his feet when the two gentlemen re-joined the meeting hall. He cast the pair a quick glance before continuing to read the agreements of the day. Quietly, Levi and Alistair found their seats among the council of lords. There was one last thing to do that afternoon, which was to vote whether to endorse two laws. First, a proclamation imposing taxes on magic artifacts. Second, that all Naturals shall be issued a ring that will identify them as such, while also suppressing their magic. The Naturals and the magical weapons were the force behind the rebellion. Once the palace had a rein on these two, then the rebels would be no better than bands of bandits crying out in the woods.

While the lord was busy reciting the provisions of the proposed new proclamation, the double doors swung open once more to welcome a new comer. Levi recognized her as the lady who nearly cracked her head. She was bold enough to intrude, confident enough to cross the room towards the lord who was presiding the meeting. Lord Gables paused to regard the lady. When she did not stop to properly greet the lord and others in attendance, Lord Gables had no choice but to hear her out.

Levi’s curiosity got the best of him, as usual. His eyes widened at the words exchanged between the pair. Somebody was abducted and there were other victims like that somebody. The rest of the commotion didn’t matter. His eyes followed the lady as she strode out of the room, leaving the rest in question. He leaned on his elbow at the table. “Who is that?”

There was a mischievous light in Alistair’s eyes. “Hmm? You don't know her? Well, that's understandable since you've been living outside the Capital for so long. Her name is Lady Serena Midnight. Want to know more?”

The Magic of Blood

Sure, I'll post mine on the characters section.

Regarding the latest post. Was it one of the lords' nephew who went missing? Which means the rebellion could have killed him or kept him hostage.

The Magic of Blood

There were a few precious minutes when the sun was at a precious angle on the sky, when it colored the horizon a lovely shade of sunset which looked to Claire like the dying flames of a campfire with people roasting game over the firepit, laughing with family or friends. She hoped it was her memory, but Claire had no recollection of nights spent on the woods with her friends. Did she ever have friends or family? Everybody ought to have been born into the world to a mother and a father, perhaps a sibling too. Every time she looked out into the sky at sunset, her mind wandered into the dark void that was her past.

A gentle nudge and the whir of the airship’s dying engine called her back into the present. Unconsciously, she tugged the lapels of her gray jacket and hunched over a bit. The cap hid most of her reddish-brown hair save for the fringes over her cool blue eyes.

The passengers of the airship were ushered to a government officer’s desk to verify identities and purpose of visit. The Capital was not a safe place for a woman, she remembered grandma advising her before she left the ranch. Perhaps she was mistaken, but there was no harm in trying to blend in as a middle-class gentleman.

The officer looked her identity papers over. His dark, tired eyes, glanced up at Claire’s poker face a moment longer, before turning away and placing a stamp on the documents. “Don’t make any trouble. Don’t get into any trouble,” was his grumbling advice before shoving the papers back to her. Claire nodded then shoved everything back into her sling bag. This was where she would find out who she was, like the man at the tavern back home told her. Like the invitation letter told her so.

She stepped up into the docks, savoring the somewhat metallic smell that was distinctly the Capital’s. It was very different from the laidback country life she had woken up to some years ago. She missed it already.

“Right,” Claire sighed. The Green Fairy was where she should be. She hoped grandma was wrong about the Capital. She hoped she did not look too much like a country boy who had his first field day at the city. She hoped, above all, not to get mugged on her first day even as she risked asking a stranger with silvery strands of hair. “Excuse me, sir.” Her voice was a notch lower when she spoke. “I wish not to disturb you and your apple, but could you tell me where the Green Fairy is?” It was an inn or a pub of sorts.

But if the silver-haired Natural would spare her a glance, the face he’d be looking at would be a familiar sort of face.

---

The kind that could charm even the queen of the underworld – that was how Levi was described. He was a young noble, heir to a dukedom, an eligible bachelor, and an Elemental. He had been summoned at the capital to help put the rebels to their place, but ever since his arrival, he had spent most of his time at the war room, with the King’s advisors. He stepped out of the hall to catch some fresh air and ---

“Lady, the palace floor is not lacking in blood nor is it requiring your face planted on it.” Levi caught a lady, apparently, before she fell to her disgrace. He commanded the air around the young woman, enveloping her and gently guiding her back onto the sturdy marble flooring.

He met her gaze briefly, before turning away. His status as a duke’s son taught him that there were only a handful of persons he needed to show respect to. This woman was not one of them.

The Betrothed

Although the tour highlighted sights in the kingdom which the camera often neglected, it was a well-curated, well-thought of, scenery that the queen was willing to showcase. The provinces they had been to were deliberately not as rich as the capital, but then again, every society that had been formed since the beginning of time had a gap between the peasant and the nobles. And because of such knowledge, even Queen Camilla approved of the couple’s itinerary. Visiting this school, however, was not originally part of the itinerary. Luke asked if it was the sole academy in the village, because the state of the building was so unbelievably neglected. It wouldn’t surprise him if it was cut from the coverage, because even he would be embarrassed to show this side of the kingdom.

“Vitacco,” Luke called the lady’s name as a lord would call on his subordinate. “How long have you been the principal of the school?”

The lady straightened, aware of the cameras pointed at their faces. It was clear from the tone of the crown prince that there was something that displeased him, and she was quite sure what it was. But could she tell him the truth about the lack of funding? About the baron who never once set foot on the village, more so listen to their plea? She cleared her throat then and answered with a small smile that it had been about a couple of decades since she was appointed the principal of the school. “Rhiane was one of my students,” she added. She had to teach as well as manage the school, because they lacked manpower to do so.

A cool brow was raised. It was not his intention to look into the impoverished school’s case, but he had knowledge of the amount of money that was allocated to the region as much as he had knowledge how much it contributed to the entirety of the kingdom. The improvement of the quality of education for the youth was among the projects he spearheaded when he was younger. Therefore, this case about the status of the school just became personal. He walked side by side the principal, quietly questioning her about the school’s future outlook, its finances, its population, even as Rhiane led them around the campus.

Pio noticed Luke’s indifference, of course. He was given a once in a lifetime chance to walk with, and speak casually with the future crown princess, and he had not planned on squandering it. There were rumors that the relationship between the two was not as it seemed, that the couple were mere actors in front of the camera, that Luke treated Rhiane as if she was his princess only when the cameras were watching. Well, it did seem like the rumors were not entirely baseless. The prince just made Pio’s job a lot easier.

He smiled knowingly at Rhiane. “Princess, huh? Who would have known?” They were walking across a narrow corridor on the inside of the building. It was constructed such that a courtyard was enclosed by the classrooms forming a rectangle. The trees, those which were lucky to still have leaves attached to its stems, were fiery in the morning light. During spring, flowers bloomed in the courtyard. The students tended to the blooms among other plants that the soil permitted to grow. Pio spared a sideways glance at the prince who was still conversing with the principal. He dared to step up closer to Rhiane to whisper, “How was it being engaged to that man?” It was not a secret that most of the town did not believe in the ruling house and the government that it created. As students, they used to voice out their frustrations through criticisms sharply aimed at the lavish lifestyle of the Queen, her daughter, and her heir. Especially the heir, who at the time of his youth, was painted by the media as a player who lived for parties, booze, and women. He was even rumored to have been involved in illegal substances. Of course, the latter was not substantiated.

“Anyway, I have something for you.” He pulled a velvet box from his pocket then handed it to Rhiane. His back was on the cameras that focused on Luke and the principal at the moment. One index finger touched his grinning lips. “Remember when we saw each other after graduation and you told me that you think you’d look pretty in pearls, but we were both too poor to buy a pair? Well, it’s not as expensive as the jewelries he can give you, but I--” Pio scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I thought this might be the last time we’d spend some time together, so think of it as something to remember an ‘old friend’ by.”

The Betrothed

Even in subtlety, very few people dared to raise a threat against royalty. The presence, the authority, and the power the royal family monopolized was enough to make any sane human being to be careful that a royal would not perceive their words as threats or worse, blackmail. The reason was simple – the crown and her brood were capable of pronouncing judgment on the spot, seizing any and all rights of their subject, including their right to live. Coercing the wrong royal was comparable to treason.

Nolan sensed the change in Luke by the time the princess elect finished her first statement. This particular royal was not fond of manipulations when the puppet master pulling the strings was not him. Luke did not appreciate how it sounded as if his fiancee twisted his arm to submission. Nolan’s employer stared at the princess elect a moment longer with his cool, emotionless, blue gaze. To an outsider, it would look as if the prince was idly watching his future bride, but Nolan knew it was otherwise. “Accidentally let it slip,” the prince enunciated every syllable slowly before looking away. A small smile on his lips, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “You forget who you are and who you are talking to, Rhiane Black.”

The silence that followed was tense. Rhiane busied herself with her borrowed device, something Luke didn’t much care for at that moment, while Luke repeatedly cancelled incoming calls as he watched the scenery outside the window. His face was a blank mask shielding his thoughts from the outside world. He was not in the mood to discuss state affairs, because if he did talk to any of his staff, his frustrations and anger would come crashing down on the unfortunate soul. Such was both unprofessional and unacceptable. His duties to the crown and to the kingdom must be fulfilled with a clear and level head, free from emotional biases. Yet, his annoyance brought about by his fiancee’s unreasonable fixation to a piece of jewelry occupied his mind. Both he and she were aware that there was nothing romantic about their engagement. Whatever romantic fantasies weaved around their engagement was nothing but a fabrication of the PR Team. She did not love him. He should not be concerned about how she felt about him. An engagement ring, therefore, was nothing but a reminder that they were bound to a fate of a loveless marriage.

As long as she did not breach the subject again, Luke kept his mouth shut. He watched the village pass by right before his eyes. It was very different from the capital – the houses were shabby, there were no tall buildings, the road was bumpy and laden with pot holes. The only saving grace was that the air was fresh and the trees many. Soon, they were rolling to a stop in front of a building. It must be the school Rhiane attended, based on the itinerary that Anelle prepared. And the people greeting them must be her teachers. All but that one person who must be about their age.

Nolan invited Luke out the vehicle before the latter could raise a question to cross-examine the princess elect’s statement. Thankfully, the prince obliged. He stepped out of the vehicle first then made his way to the rear passenger door to help his fiancee down. Just like a perfect gentleman. He was quiet, still, as he followed to greet the other commoners. Media staff and crew were stationed around the building, but more unmanned cameras were installed at strategic spots in order to capture the best possible shot as well as help in surveillance of the area.

“Is this the only school around?” He eyed the chipping paint, the broken windows, missing glass, and ultimately the obvious lack of building maintenance. Who was to say that the building would pose no risk of collapsing while students were inside. The prince turned to the older members of the welcome party if only because they looked as if they could give him more information compared to Rhiane’s “old friend.”

The Betrothed

Giving in to the request of the princess elect to pan away from the presents she intended to purchase for her soon-to-be sister-in-law, the camera crew kept some distance from the couple, relying on the equipment’s capability to zoom in. There was no lapel microphone attached to either of the couple as was what the protocol dictated. No royal was allowed to wear a technology which could record their private conversations or acts. Thus, the audio recording was done through a remote microphone. Admittedly, it had limitations. The crowd, the landscape, the weather were factors affecting the signal. Yet although some of the exchanges between the princess elect and her fiance were thankfully kept from the public, the prince’s actions alerted Anelle.

“Director!” The urgency was not something she even tried to mask. “Switch the feed.” But it was too late. The camera zoomed in the supposedly tender moment between the newly engaged couple. It caught Luke inspecting the ring, then lifting his eyes to hers before saying something inaudible. Just like that, speculations and theories about the real relationship between the two, and the involvement of the actress, Sophia Keller, were the most talked about topic in the kingdom.

---

“Don’t worry about it,” was what he told Rhiane after he examined the fit of the ring. Callista was thinner than Rhiane. He thanked his fiancee before turning back to the store owner to ask for a size smaller than the one he had in his hand. Unfortunately, there was none, but it did not stop the prince from purchasing the unique jewelry.

Neither the shop owner nor any person in the crowd who watched them said anything about the missing engagement ring, but the question lingered in the air as if the collective consciousness was a loud enough voice asking Luke about the story behind his fiancee’s bare finger. He glanced over his shoulder at Rhiane. Was she silently asking the same question? She didn’t seem upset, but she didn’t really show her true feelings when they were on a shoot. Especially not on a live coverage.

“We’re done here,” Luke told nobody in particular. A very royal-like manner of dismissing his subjects without actually addressing anybody. He expected the crew to take it as cue that they were moving forward. To Rhiane, he offered his arm. There was no way to gauge what was on her mind other than dipping his foot into the water and waiting for the sharp teeth of piranha to nibble at his toes. “Anelle showed me the photos of the rings that were purchased. You may pick one yourself and unlike this store, we can have it resized.” They still spoke in hushed tone, aware that their whispered conversations would easily turn into a disastrous scandal should any of the microphones pick it up. “I’m letting you choose. Your engagement ring will be however you imagine it to be. I want you to want to wear it every day.” And because he had no time to pick one for her that the purchase of the official ring that supposedly symbolizes his noble intent to wed her was left into the hands of his ex-lover.

The couple stepped out of the store and was ushered back to their vehicles. The next destination listed on the itinerary was the school Rhiane attended when she was younger. It was the only school in the village, the very institution that molded the young minds including Rhiane’s. One of her teachers was going to tour them around the school, Anelle had informed him that morning. Rhiane was expected to tell the viewers anecdotes of her childhood as part of building a very relatable image. Luke, on the other hand, was expected to be diplomatic, to smile, to listen, and to keep his mouth shut if he had nothing useful to say.

Nolan shut the passenger door after Luke, and the prince sighed. The privacy granted by the vehicle was precious.

The Betrothed

Manno smiled back at the princess elect. One had to be especially apathetic not to be enthralled by that smile. No wonder the woman earned the love and adoration of the common people, because on top of being a relatable person, she was genuinely nice and had a very pretty smile. The crew nodded, brushing his index finger to the device in his ear. There was nothing wrong in panning away from the purchases Ms. Rhiane Black and the crown prince would select for the princess, but he had to inform the director. After excusing himself to let the couple lead the cameras, Manno relayed Rhiane’s request to the director and the rest of the crew. There seemed to be no concerns until Lady Toscano joined the conversation.

Unaware of the discussions held between the media crew, the production director, and the mistress who pulled the strings from behind the scene, Luke allowed himself to be led by his fiancee towards the marketplace. As usual, her charming smile was enough to disarm the crew and bend them to her will. Not that he had any objection to her request, he was amazed at how much a woman can manipulate with just her pretty face and her smile. If he thought that he was beyond her supernatural power because of his status, his wealth, and women more beautiful and refined than Rhiane who would kill to be in her shoes right now, Luke was thoroughly mistaken. He was very serious and professional with his royal obligations, but even the queen was beginning to notice that her heir was threading the fine line between work and pleasure.

The prince caught up to Rhiane. It was not easy to hold a conversation amidst the cheering crowd, but he was not done with the topic. “You are such a delightfully confusing woman. Has anybody told you that before?” If she didn’t want him to fight her battles for her, then what was all the screaming about that morning? “Would you rather Tobias defend you then?” He had to mask the jealousy with amusement. He made himself believe that he was amused and not at all feeling his ego wounded by the thought that she thought of his cousin as more relatable, more reliable man. Enough that she believed the royal guard would stand up for her and she would let him, but she would not allow her fiance to do so.

The security team made sure that the crowd remained where they should be, though as they neared the market, fewer and fewer people were allowed. It was so the couple could move more freely and the filmed shots look more intimate. They stopped by a crafts shop selling trinkets and jewelries made of strewn beads on thread and some interesting pieces made of thick copper wire. Luke examined a ring which was coiled in an intricately unique pattern. Callie, just like other young ladies her age, loved pretty and shiny stones for accessorizing. They also loved being unique and fashion forward. The seller’s wares would do.

“What do you think of this?” He held the piece of jewelry up to Rhiane. It was not like the expensive pieces that the princess wore, not even designed by a respected name in the industry. The material was cheap, but it was interesting and unique. The thick wire was unmarked by whatever tool the craftsman used, the coiling patterns would swirl up the finger when worn, like a little piece of abstract artwork reminiscent of the rolling waves of the sea. “Can you try it on for Callie?” He placed his coffee down on the surface then took the ring off the hand mannequin. With the piece of art on between his thumb and middle finger, he held his other hand out for her. The goal was to buy his sister a souvenir and his mind was fixated to it. Therefore, he asked her to try the ring on, to let him fit it on her finger, without realizing at that moment that it may remind her of what he lacked. That he was missing the engagement ring for his fiancee.

The Betrothed

At the capital, his name was worshipped as if it in itself was the name of the creator. He was the embodiment of power, the hope of the kingdom, the nation’s salvation and its future king. Men aspired to be like him while their women threw themselves at his feet. He could not be in public without a camera poised at his direction to scrutinize the folds of his coat or the perfect styling of his hair. It was suffocating to have his admirers and critics surround him at every corner, even in the palace. Thus, to hear that for once his name was not the name being cheered was quite a relief.

The morning sun was a welcome warmth, but it paled compared to the reception of the townspeople for their princess. Cameras panned away from the couple’s faces to film those who gathered to receive Rhiane Black back in the town that nurtured her to be the woman who would one day rule beside Luke. A commoner bride to a royal household was a story only present in the ancient fairy tales. As if she was born to prove that fairy tales could turn into reality. To the young girls, she was the heroine they all wanted to be when they grew up – a smart, strong, and kind woman. A blonde young woman being interviewed by a media personnel said so.

If Luke’s opinion on the matter was asked, he would agree. In the few weeks they had known each other, she had proven herself to be a beautiful, intelligent, and kind woman despite the name of her father. He equally admired and disliked the strength of her will which drove him mad most of the time. But he would not deny that she was a smart, strong and kind woman. If she was a daughter of nobility, then there’d be no need for a charade of emotions and feelings. But again, the gap between the two of them was too wide, its depth too deep to be bridged by fleeting feelings of admiration.

Luke leaned close enough for her to hear him above the cheers. “I could stand in your defense in front of your critics, you know. But I will only make a fool of myself, because you wouldn’t stop fighting me every single chance you get.” He smiled briefly, as if he just whispered an amusing observation, the pulled away to take a sip from the bland, watered down instant coffee from the shop. One thing he would not miss.

He smiled politely at the crowd, one hand at the small of her back to guide her forward. One of the security personnel directed them to the market proper. Unlike the other places they visited so far, Rhiane’s hometown didn’t have a nobleman or a lady to greet the prince. Anelle explained that it was due to the short notice and the town not being part of the original itinerary. Rhiane was present anyway. She could handle the tour.

The journalist from earlier approached the couple again. A camera crew trailed after him. Luke noticed that the camera was not turned on as was the microphone, he assumed. “Your highness.” He bowed as he greeted Luke, then turned to Rhiane. “Ms. Black. My name is Manno. We will accompany you today.” He gestured to the cameraman. “Please speak to the camera as if you are guiding a tour of the town. Shall we begin?”

The Betrothed

Luke tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a smile filled with smugness. “What am I if not full of surprises.” Being full of surprises wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, he thought. The fact that she had not yet asked every person in the establishment to please give them some privacy was telling something. Maybe he’d done good in her eyes by indulging her very unhealthy craving, though it was no surprise that he’d yet to deny her tastebuds’ desires. Honestly, what made her happy made his life a little less tedious.

Then she held up a bar of torrone asking if he’d like to try. Being one who did not really enjoy too much sweets, he was inclined to say no. However, there were eyes everywhere, watching them. Her warning that it would be more difficult to convince these people that their charade had even a morsel of truth in it came to mind. What would they think if he declined the sweet little gesture of their princess? Perhaps that the crown prince thought himself too good for the local bakery’s products, or that the crown prince rejected the princess elect’s tastes. On the other hand, if he did take a bite and pretended that he liked it, it was the noble lords’ wives who would be whispering to each other how their future king had lost his expensive taste.

For the first time since they entered the bakery, he regretted being swayed by the feeling that he needed to appease Rhiane Black because of what her brother-in-law said about the sacrifices she was willing to make for Luke’s sake. Because there was no correct way out of the situation she put him into. If he rejected her offer, the peasants might think it was an act belittling the little town’s produces. Then again, if he accepted, the nobility would talk about how the heir to the most powerful nation in Europe had succumbed to the will of his commoner soon-to-be bride that he took off his elitist robes in exchange for commoner clothes.

A moment’s hesitation, then he leaned towards the sweet delicacy and took a bite. To more accurately place it, he chomped on the nougat, breaking away more than half of the bar. Then, he grinned at his fiancee like a schoolboy who succeeded in teasing his crush. “Not bad,” he admitted.

With a hand at the small of her back, the prince guided Rhiane towards the exit. “Not bad at all.” The words were muffled as the words came out in between chewing the treat and grinning. His eyes slid back to the remaining torrone with a purely mischievous intent. They could buy more, but where was the fun in that?

Nolan gave instructions to his team as the couple moved towards the exit. A couple of the royal guards exited the establishment before Luke and Rhiane, signaling the others about the development. The door was opened for the couple. Luke stepped out after his fiancee. “It is improper to eat while walking,” he leaned against her ear to whisper. “I will not let you be criticized by yourself, so you have to give me some more of those.” It was not entirely a ploy to get a reaction from her. In fact, it was true. It may be his idea to grab something to eat before they officially begin because she was upset, but his people would not understand. They would not even try. All the good that the princess elect’s presence brought to the ruling house was not important to the upper class, what they saw more clearly – what they looked out for – was her missteps. Any flaw, any possible criticism. Luke’s intent was to shield her from their words by being the first offender of the protocol. Because by doing so, they couldn’t really say that she was being inappropriate without saying that their prince was inappropriate.

Though, his critics would probably enjoy that. Just like they would enjoy talking about how the commoner princess had changed their future king.

The Betrothed

On the night she nearly died of poison, Luke discovered that his fiancee had a truly tender spot for sweets. Even if he wanted to, he could not get himself to forget about the look on her face when her trolley of sweets was carted inside her hospital room. That same look of wonder lit up her face while she surveyed the display behind the glass. He imagined it was the same expression he had whenever he was invited to test a new model of military fighter jet. It made him want to smile and ask her what was so exciting about those homemade pastries, because she’d never looked at him as tenderly as she was caressing those sweets with her gaze. Made him wondered how much of her time and her family’s farm’s earnings were spent on that bakery, or even if it was even her favorite bakery. But maybe every bakery was her favorite.

“Hmm. Are you worried?” She was correct in her assumption that he traded breakfast for work, though he did catch a few bites. Just enough to calm his rebelling stomach for the time being. Then again, stopping by the bakery was not about him. If he’d have it his way, they’d be walking the street of the town, with Rhiane on the lead, relating her stories to the camera, but she was upset and probably had less time than him for breakfast. “I’ll have coffee to go, please. I want it iced,” he added after a few moments of thought.

The store owner lifted her head. Her hand paused in the middle of jotting down the ingredients. She bit her lower lip as if contemplating if she could say whatever it was that was running through her head. She glanced at her daughter who had packed the princess elect’s orders in small brown bags. “We only have instant coffee, Prince Alessandro.”

“Instant?”

The soil and the climate of the area did not grow with coffee. Importing beans, grinding it, and purchasing those home brewing machines were not productive in a farming village that grew vegetables and other crops. Besides, who would purchase an expensive blend? If it tasted like coffee, had caffeine, and was capable of banishing sleepiness, then it would do. “Yes, your highness.” She sounded embarrassed to admit it. What she could not bring herself to admit was the fact that it was beneath his highness’ royal taste and it would be blasphemous to offer it to the future king. But to deny him his whim could cost her the shop, if rumors were to be believed about this man. So, she averted her gaze and turned to Rhiane instead.

“I have not been offered an instant coffee in my entire life.” The daughter finished her task, but held on to the bags, anticipating the royal’s next move. Her mother was prepared to bow and apologize as if it was a crime to do so, as if she offered it to him. But before the shop owner could make another sound, the prince declared, “I want my coffee iced. Do you want a glass as well, Rhiane?”

The tension dispersed like a cool gust of wind sweeping from the sea. The owner’s shoulders relaxed. She took the little brown bags from her daughter, who disappeared to a door behind the counter possibly to mix some instant coffee. Eve returned not too long after with the drinks. When Luke asked how much it cost him, the owner hesitated, stating that it was a gift for the newly engaged couple. The prince firmly objected, quoting one of the kingdom’s law concerning graft, bribery, and how a public servant must turn away kind offers, no matter the intent, from the citizens it served. But he did not carry around cash and the shop did not accept electronic payments, so in the end Nolan paid.

“Are you ready to leave?” He handed Rhiane’s sweets to her while Nolan pocketed the shopping list of ingredients. Eating in public, especially while walking, was considered unsophisticated by the nobility. Perhaps because most of them had time to eat slowly, carefully chewing the food, while taking care to follow every table etiquette in existence. Commoners could not afford that and neither could Luke. So, to hell with social protocols. It was a choice between what the nobility with their endless gossip and an upset Rhiane. If they knew Rhiane the way he did, then they would understand that there was never really a choice to make.