Syrenrei

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

"Let's put her in the Captain's Quarters," Solae suggested. There really wasn't anywhere else she felt comfortable placing the poor girl; she was already traumatized and she could only imagine how much more terrified she'd be if she woke up in the crew's bunks. The pair of travelers had done their due diligence cleaning but they hadn't anticipated needing the crew's sleeping space as there were only two of them and they enjoyed sharing a bed. As a result they had decided to use the smaller room for storage and failed to change any of the linens. From a distance there wasn't any smell but if one were to crawl up onto the sheets it almost certainly had an unpleasant odor. Though the child was unconscious she also suspected the mattresses were even more lumpy for the Bonaventure's former underlings than the captain and that rejuvenating rest would be harder-earned with hard springs and uneven batting.

Rene nodded and they proceeded into what was currently functioning as their bedroom. Solae would have offered assistance but the truth was that the soldier was more than capable of carrying Damaris by himself. Genetics had not graced the female linguist with even half the upper body strength her counterpart had before he was forced to join a physical profession. She had never asked him exactly what he was capable of bench pressing but she would be shocked if it was not in excess of her own weight. A few times he had lifted her with so little effort she was in awe of him. Sometime during her years at the embassy she had grown accustomed to men who ran just enough to say fit, used technology to sculpt and tone, and were only as athletic as was aesthetically required. She liked that her paramour could dead-lift a crate without straining and grunting as if he was about to collapse in the process.

Once Damaris had been laid down they covered her with the sheets, tucking her in, and left the canteen on the nightstand. A glass might be preferable but there were two reasons that the canteen was chosen instead: the nipple made it harder for her to gulp down too quickly for her own health (though she had proven it was still logistically possible) and they had already earned her trust that the canteen's water was not drugged or tainted. Solae didn't want to jeopardize any faith that had been placed in her. She knew that to the impressionable youth they were still strangers, ones not even from her world, and that they needed to be conscientious about moving at a pace that proved they had no ill intentions. Rather than closing the door behind them they left it slightly ajar, enough to let light from the attached hallway drift in, and giving her a clear exit once she awoke so she could seek them out with as little anxiety as possible.

Solae motioned for Rene to follow her as she went to the kitchen and began rummaging around for something appropriate for Damaris to eat. She felt responsible for the girl, even though she was not her own daughter or ward, and was reluctant to feed her anything but the best they had to offer. Adults could elect to make choices to eat less-than-optimal snacks or meals, they were responsible for themselves and had the capacity for making that choice, but it was different with children. If either of them wanted to live off crisps and deep-fried starches they had that right. Allowing someone years away from being considered wholly autonomous, someone who was still growing and developing, and who had different needs, would be negligent and/or slightly immoral.

"I can't believe anyone survived washing ashore," she said softly as she shook her head. Tucked away behind meals that were the pinnacle of gluttony were a few sealed cups of vegetables in containers which, once a tab was pulled, would steam cook within minutes. The marquise pulled out the two varieties available and set them on the counter with a sigh. "I know it's not your area of expertise, but maybe you can look her over a little after she wakes up? I don't think she has any major injuries but the least we can do is make certain and treat the scrapes she has before ferrying her home. Which I suppose is something else to discuss, isn't it?"

"What do you want to do?" she asked, leaning back against the economical metal cabinetry. The irony of the fact that their spaceship was largely absent of staining due to its lack of luxurious porous surfaces was not lost on her. Marble, granite, wood, and other more desirable materials would have soaked up blood, bodily fluids, grease, and other drippings that the prior inhabitants had left behind. Because construction had been limited to more easily obtained alloys mass-manufactured for cargo ships, military vessels, and ergonomic transports, there had been nothing prone to staining, and the galley in which they stood not was relatively spotless. "We still need fuel. If you want to take the inflatable and go tonight I can watch over Damaris by myself. Stealth isn't quite my forte but I can't imagine asking her to get on a boat anytime soon even it is to go back to her parents."

"Miss Solae," Mia purred. The aristocrat nearly jumped a foot in the air. Their artificial intelligence companion had been so quiet (so as not to disturb their new guest) that she had honestly forgotten about her presence. Hearing the synthetic voice had startled her and she laughed lightly in embarrassment before Mia continued. "The Bonaventure appears to have been modified to perform night landings without the detection of law enforcement. While I can not condone the spirit in which these modifications have been made, they may be of use to you should you not want to alarm the nearby colonies."

"Thank you, Mia. Do you think the inflatable can handle the waters, though?" She asked Rene as she furrowed her brow in serious contemplation. "Maybe we need another plan... it's risky for you to go out there by yourself," she worried aloud. There was no practical reason their plot would fail. Solae was simply nervous about letting Rene out of her sight for any length of time, let alone on a mission with any amount of risk, and with no way to contact him if things went awry.

The Betrothed

Truthfully Tobias was only attempting to form a platonic relationship with Rhiane Black, future wife of their future king, although given their respective genders it might appear to some onlookers he had romantic inclinations. By his own admission he was stoic with everyone else in the castle. Multiple female staff members had confessed crushes for him or more subtly flirted with him. Each and every time he had declined their advances with distant stoicism. He had become infamous for not only showing absolutely no interest in dating and marriage, but being too professionally detached for even friendships, and having grown apart from Luke when most would have sacrificed everything for the opportunities he had to try to reconnect with the heir to the throne. A pervasive rumor was that the mysterious and handsome man was an automaton rather than a flesh and blood human being. Despite the precedence he had set for being a solitary being, it was undeniable he was more attentive to the princess elect.

No one was suspicious of his intentions quite yet. Though his conduct was a bit odd, he did not initiate physical contact with Rhiane, his body language remained neutral, he was not flirting, he was not sending her gifts, they only spent time together as a result of his assignment, and his conduct was impeccably considerate while not being overly so. The former farmer herself did not show any concern. If anything, she was completely oblivious to the possibility that anyone might find her attractive now that she was the fiancee of the crown prince. Nobility barely tolerated her presence, loyalists were reverent of her position, and palace servants viewed her as firmly 'off limits' no matter how much they might like her. Everyone expect the royal to have an affair outside of the breeding spouse, though acceptance of this arrangement varied along political and economic lines, but whether the commoner would be permitted to have their own affair companion was more dubious. Ultimately Queen Camilla and Prince Luke would make this determination. At the very least it would be a few years before it might be secretly endorsed.

As Luke entered the room Tobias's face slipped for the briefest moment. His mask of indifference was marred by his lips spreading into an expression of displeasure. To achieve his goal of making Rhiane deflect he had to wedge himself into the opening provided by his cousin's contempt. Only if she truly believed she had no allies and was surrounded by people who did not value her, did not appreciate her, and who would disparage her constantly would she be inclined to consider betraying the monarchy. She needed to see everyone within these walls as her enemy and the coup as a ray of shining hope for the people she loved so dearly. Having Luke waltz into the room like a veritable Prince Charming undermined his efforts. His relative was no as dependably callous as anticipated.

Rhiane was surprised but elated. She knew the truth of his feelings about the engagement, and that Sophia was his real love, and so she had expected him to stay at the business event until its conclusion. Once it was over she thought he'd enjoy the peace and quiet of his room alone without worrying about someone like herself. He had to know she was being attended by the best doctor and specialist money could buy. Her affliction gave him a temporary freedom she'd thought he would jump to take advantage of given the implants were so limiting. That he could have been on a date, or entertaining a lady in his private quarters, or flying off to his island alone seemed to her to be a guarantee he'd not make an appearance to see the woman that frequently aggravated him. And yet here he was.

"It's not all bad," the princess elect said with an amiable smile. Tobias had composed himself and she ignorant of his response to the other man's presence as she beamed at Luke. "I got to go on my first trip, had a morning of lounging around watching movies for the first time in my life, gorged myself on two different deserts, and even got to see his royal highness in a uniform," she countered. Behind her the bodyguard sighed softly at how lightly she took her own health.

"Really, I'm fine now. I don't even really remember much after I left the table," she said honestly. The poison had made her so acutely ill was now a blur of sensations. It was not unusual for trauma to make memories murky; this was one of the body's many methods of self-preservation. Elena Villani had told her it was for the best that she had been sheltered from vividly feeling the burning of her throat and mouth.

"Rhiane has a bruise on her shoulder from falling on the floor," Tobias interjected as it became apparent that his charge was going to glaze over her ailments and feign they didn't exist. Her bravado was equal amounts endearing and frustrating. "They have also put her on a restricted diet of soft foods for the rest of the evening."

"Yes, but even Dr. Gulsvig approved me having pudding or bread pudding for dinner just to get me to eat," she pointed out with no small amount of glee. There was saying that food was the way to a man's heart, but in this particular scenario it was also the way to a woman's, one in particular. Still, the levity which she discussed her mortality suggested she was more terrified than she was willing to admit or she genuinely was ambivalent.

"Tobias, I'd like to speak with Luke alone if you don't mind," she requested with a dazzling smile. The royal guard nodded in obedience but was not enthused. He stood and nodded to them both politely before departing the room. Rhiane had every right to make the request but it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Silently he hoped the eldest son of the queen would put his foot in his mouth in his absence.

"Is Queen Camilla turning the implants back on?" Rhiane asked once she was certain that Tobias was gone. Reflexively she felt for the patch of skin under which the nanotechnology was buried. "I'm glad you're here but... I'm sure you..." she faltered with uncertainty. The concept of anyone wanting to stay by her side when she had nothing to offer, when she was in a place she herself didn't care for, with none of the comfort they might otherwise enjoy was foreign. It had always been her tending to her brother and father. It had always been her falling on her proverbial sword, sacrificing time, energy, and desires. Never had she expected reciprocation and now when it came in the form of an arrogant prince the silver-tongued brunette couldn't articulate her thoughts.

"Well, you can't blame me for not liking being in the medical tower," she finally stated once she found her voice again. "Or are you planning to redecorate your bedroom to look like this? My bed back home was much worse, and it's cleaner here than at home, but it smells like a hospital and there's a curious nurse or assistant everywhere I turn. Some people have nightmares about this thing," she concluded before taking a small menu in hand and sighing heavily with purposeful exaggeration. "But if you absolutely refuse to bust me out of this joint I'll order enough things that our image consultant will have a heart attack about my caloric intake and then we're have more company."

The Betrothed

Elena Villani was one of the most brilliant specialists in the field of medical toxicology. While Dr. Gulsvig was by no means intellectually challenged in any way, Elena had been summoned for her expertise, and had been working in tandem to get a diagnosis as quickly as possible- even before she landed at the castle. Her background was upper middle class rather than actual nobility which made consultations with physicians in more rural areas smoother. When working with the top tier of the social strata, however, she had earned their praise with hard work, discretion, and a no-nonsense attitude that focused exclusively on the poisoning rather than the scandalous events that led to contamination. It was hardly a surprise that Queen Camilla had summoned her. Were Rhiane to take a turn for the worse they would be in a predicament that would take years to climb back from, if ever, and she wanted to use the resources available within reason so as to keep the outcome in her favor.

"Your highnesses," Elena sighed as she strode out of two thick frosted glass automated sliding doors. The staff that had been allowed inside the portion of the clinic where the princess elected had been carried were initially in suits that were hermetically sealed and had attached oxygen packs for respiration. This had been a precaution. Once they realized the nature of the materials they were working in they had all changed. The doctor wore surgical scrubs in a plain vanilla color, blue latex gloves she was actively peeling off her hands, and a face mask. Both the prince and princess might correctly deduce the change in uniform was indicative of the fact that Rhiane's condition was not as contagious as initially feared. Once her gloves had been pried off Elena took off her mask and ran her hand through her hair.

"Dr. Gulsvig is making the report to the queen. Mrs. Black is no longer in critical condition and is conscious. From what Mr. Lavanchy tells me, she didn't eat the entirety of her plate of appetizers nor did she drink all of her wine at the business function she attended. In my professional opinion that is what saved her life. What she ingested was so concentrated that if she had eaten all of it we would be having a very different conversation." She realized that this information was not what they wanted to hear but they needed to be aware of the reality of the situation. Trying to soften the blow could create misunderstandings and she was not going to jeopardize meeting any of the monarchy's relatives under even worse conditions.

"There were two poisons utilized and they were both ingested, so Mrs. Black is a bit uncomfortable, but not a danger to anyone else's health. One of the poisons is flavorless and is typically used in powder form so it could have been in either her food or drink. The other, which was so caustic to her upper digestive tract, would have a bitter aftertaste, but Mrs. Black might not have noticed if she didn't know what the things she ate ought to have tasted like. It's because of this I don't think we'll see anyone else reporting her symptoms. If the other attendees were more familiar with the offerings, which I am told they were, they wouldn't overlook the difference in taste."

Elena was not a detective so she shied away from outright concluding that Rhiane was specifically targeted or that the perpetrator was themselves a novice. If she was asked her opinion she would say she thought it was a crime of opportunity that was poorly conceived. Someone with a more targeted education, or at least a wider base of knowledge, wouldn't have used something that affected flavor, nor would they have failed to anticipate Rhiane vomiting half of the poison. Hopefully those with positions of authority would deduce it was not just fortuitous that the toxins hadn't stewed longer in their victim and that would help narrow their suspect pool.

"If I may say so your highness, your fiancee is a resilient woman. She purged a great deal of the poisons before she was rushed here and she's reacting well to the medication. There is some temporary damage to her esophagus and stomach, so she'll want to avoid overly hot, spicy, or cold food until that heals, but she shouldn't have any long-lasting effects. I'd like to make a couple suggestions that Dr. Gulsvig is making to the queen. Because Ms. Black's immune system is compromised, we're delaying introducing any vaccinations or anti-toxins until we're sure she's prepared for it, so although she'll be walking and talking like normal, that particular program has been postponed for her safety. There is a difference before well enough to be in public and resume normal activities and well enough to undergo preventative measures that rely on a robust immune system. This means she'll still be susceptible to poisons so she should refrain from eating alone. If possible meals should be ordered as a group, so the least amount of people possible know what she is personally eating until it's on the table, and if that's not possible you may want to order separately for one another and then exchange."

"Now, I'm sure you have questions. Would you like to see her? We thought to leave the decision of where she would sleep tonight up to the queen and yourselves. Ms. Black is stable and... quite vocal about her displeasure being in the medical tower," Elena admitted with a bemused expression. It was the nicest way to allude to the fact that the former farmer absolutely loathed being isolated and contained in a place where the only faces she saw were those of the medical vocation she harbored intense distrust. When she had first awoken she was deliriously apologizing for everything but once she achieved more mental clarity she had become incredibly upset with her surroundings. The two doctors had built a fledgling rapport but the trauma of eight years ago could not be undone so simply. Truthfully Elena did not blame the younger woman for her beliefs- though she was frustrated a lack of cooperation had initially hampered their progress. Tobias Lavanchy had been more useful than their patient herself.

The Betrothed

After she violently heaved out the contents of her stomach and crashed onto the floor Rhiane was conscious but not quite aware of her surroundings. It took a painful amount of effort to recognize Tobias's face hovering over hers as he slid her backwards and gently inspected the damage to her shoulder (as it had absorbed the impact of her fall). Disoriented and slightly delusional she swore she heard Luke's voice although she couldn't understand at first how he knew where she was or what had happened. Her mind kept failing to connect the dots and instead focused on inane things like how they were invading the women's bathroom and were men, or how her throat hurt, or how she really disliked the coral hue painted on the walls. Her so brain was overloaded with the sudden bombardment of external and internal stimuli, it had blocked out the majority of her sensory perception, and thus she was blissfully unaware of the gravity of the situation for the moment.

"Sorry," she heard herself say though her speech was slightly inhibited by a tongue that was reluctant to form coherent words. This evidently was not what Tobias expected her to say and he narrowed his eyes in response. The newly appointed bodyguard of the princess elect was so worried she understood it through the haze caused by poison coursing through her veins. To Rhiane it was only natural she apologize for making a mess on the floor even if it was unintentional. Any sane individual, however, that realized their very life was in jeopardy would not be worrying themselves over the sight of vomit. No one yet knew if she had been given a lethal dose of a toxic substance.

"I'll keep you updated on her condition," Tobias promised as he scooped the former farmer up into his arms and lifted her from the ground.

Rhiane was staring after Luke as she belatedly started to realize something was very wrong for him to be reassuring her that she would be 'fine' and 'Dr. Gulsvig' would be taking care of her. Her fiance was showing more emotion than she was accustomed to seeing and it was so bizarre, and so sincere, she could not conceive of objecting to the course of action even if meant confronting a major source of anxiety. Later Luke could see this as the victory it truly was. She was the most vulnerable he had seen her and yet she trusted him implicitly. Arguably she had more reasons not to put her faith in him than to be so simply persuaded he had her best interests at heart but they did not so much as make it to the surface of her mind.

With time of the essence, Tobias, after making certain he had a good grip on his charge, started to jog down the corridor and towards the elevator that would lead them to the fourteenth floor where a hovercraft was waiting for them. Rhiane's eyes had closed once they were out of sight of the crown prince. The relative-by-birth to the crown spread his lips in a thin line as he waited for the lift to jettison them to the correct level of the building. It was more likely to be a benign correlation than a sign of causation, though he had to admit the onset of this illness was so abrupt it made him suspicious she had been unwell sooner than when she had waved him over for bathroom directions, and there was only one person she might suppress symptoms for. In his opinion Luke was not worthy of such consideration. Sofia was the reason that Rhiane had been brought here. She had unknowingly put herself at great risk, yet the caged woman had made every concession for her titled paramour, even when he ignored her and favored another given the opportunity.

"Ms. Black has lost consciousness," he advised as he stepped out of the elevator and continued on his path. With his accelerated pace it took him longer to read the signs than to reach the gate. "No loss of breath or cardiac arrest. Proceeding into the hovercraft. We will wait until we're a respectable distance from Evolab HQ before calling for a blockade."

Just as he was about to board the hovercraft Rhiane jerked back awake and, pitching slightly to side, threw up for a second time. Most of the ejected bodily fluid was bile but there was more blood and half-digested food as well, some of which he deduced might have been from their untainted luncheon. It was a good sign. That she was retching meant that her body had not given up on purging itself of the poison. The less that was trapped in her stomach the less likelihood she would be spending the rest of the night in intensive care and recovery. Tobias allowed himself to let out a sigh of relief as she sagged in his harms and started to either doze or lose consciousness again.

"Gate on Level 14 will need a biohazard team to clean up," he remarked wryly as he climbed into the hovercraft. Instead of trying to sit up the dead weight he laid her on her side, facing her outwards in case there was an encore of regurgitation, and buckled her in to the best of her ability. It was not optimal but Evolab was not prepared to deal with a VIP guest requiring discreet emergency transportation in the middle of a business event she had not been explicitly invited to. Rhiane was secure enough to survive the journey that would be made exponentially shorter with Queen Camilla herself likely to shut down every ounce of traffic that could lead to scandalous tragedy.

The Betrothed

Rhiane had been relieved when the ceremony finally commenced. While she did not harbor a grudge towards Luke for disappearing into the crowd of wealthy attendees, she was only present at this function by his request, and there was little for her to do while he socialized. If it had not been painfully clear at the engagement ball, there was no doubt now that she was passively shunned. The crown prince was the man of true prestige and power while she had an unspoken expiration date. Not a single soul approached her at the table save the waiters and that was only because they lacked station and were obligated to treat her with proper respect. The princess elect knew this would be every formal celebration from here until her untimely death yet she had not quite anticipated doing a favor for her fiance only to have him abandon her yet again without a single thought as to her feelings on the matter. There would be discussions in the future about repayment and expectations. If she was going to be summoned either to invoke jealousy, create a political statement, or unsettle his business partners she wanted some consideration for her sacrifice.

Fortunately stoic Tobias provided her companionship. Though they spent almost the entire twenty minutes preceding the presentation in silence, his very presence was a constant reminder that all of New Rome would not snub her like Evolab's investors. The rich, famous, and titled were not the summation of the kingdom. Rebellion against Queen Camilla was proof that appeasing the elites alone would not keep a country stable and peaceful. It was his kindness of quiet support that bolstered her waning patience. Rhiane did not constant praise, she just needed someone to see her, and she needed relief from the derisive stares thinly veiled behind polite smiles.

It was when Tobias vacated his seat for Luke, who was already hyper-focused on his notes, that she started to idly wonder when she might be able to make a tactful exit. Alec Wescott would not need to converse with her further, she could only assume that whatever odd situation had arisen between Sophia and Luke was something she truly didn't want to be more involved in, and her betrothed didn't need his poorly educated arm candy any longer. Just as she was beginning to formulate a few excuses for departure two things happened consecutively: the heir to the throne took her hand and entwined their fingers and she felt a strange lurching sensation in her stomach.

At first she assumed (wrongly) that the former had compelled the latter. Heartthrob Prince Alessandro was no stranger to public displays of affection but she was. The sudden affection she doubted had anything to do with a sincere need to touch because of romantic interest, but she felt something inside her flutter regardless, and could not conceive of a way to retreat without exposing their charade. Perhaps he was trying to belatedly express gratitude for her attendance at the event. Sofia's proximity suggested this may have something to do with showing her that their 'love story' would not abate anytime soon in public. Discreetly she squirmed under the gesture and pretended her palm wasn't starting to sweat like a lovesick teenager. Rationally she ought not to be attracted to Luke beyond the physical and her dalliances with the other gender hardly made her shy in those pursuits. It was when he defaulted to a soft approach, and she was uncertain of his intentions, that she faltered and struggled.

It was when Luke rose from his seat, strode to the front of the room, and began his speech that she realized that her presumed indigestion had absolutely nothing to do with her emotional state. She did her best to be attentive, not only because he was brilliant despite his atrocious disposition, but because any inattention would negatively interpreted as a lack of support and mar their conjoined images. Rhiane had to stay planted in her chair and show devotion to his statement. Through sheer will power alone she succeeded despite feeling spasms in her throat.

The princess elect motioned under the table to Tobias. The bodyguard stiffly glided over just as Alec and Luke had finished shaking hands and bent at the waist so as to hear his charge over the applause and music. "Where is the ladies room?" she asked.

He furrowed his brow. His instincts told him there was something wrong but he did not have the latitude to ask her any sort of invasive questions; the query itself was innocent enough. "I'll escort you," he replied.

"You were wonderful," Rhiane told Luke as he moved back to his seat beside her. "I'll just be a moment. I didn't want to step away while you were still speaking," she explained but her voice sounded more strained to the ear than it had before. The former farmer painted on a pleasant expression as she bowed her head and followed Tobias in the direction of the restrooms. No one found it curious. Even the upper echelons of the court had to heed the call of nature and, to her credit, she had elected to only excuse herself when it was appropriate.

Tobias did not panic when she stepped into the lavish room and closed the door behind her. His paranoia of earlier had all but been forgotten; he had been eased into complacency when nothing happened immediately after the appetizers were consumed. What confidence he had that this was a routine emptying of the bladder or bowels- with perhaps a little cramping or digestive issues- evaporated when he heard the sound of something falling to the floor less than ten seconds after he had posted himself outside the door to the women's bathroom. To the best of his knowledge the only person inside was the princess elect and, even if she wasn't, the timing suggested it was Rhiane that had just fallen. Habitually he knocked and when there was no reflexive answer he stepped inside without a thought to appearances. The breathtaking winner of the national contest, future wife of their future king, had collapsed but was not unconscious. Beside her was vomit stained with blood.

Luke- Something is wrong with Rhiane. I think she's been poisoned, he typed out hastily before crouching down. Royalty might balk at the bodily fluids and sickly specimen he had vowed to protect but his only concern was getting her out of Evolab's headquarters as quickly as possible. Hopefully his terse message to Luke would relay the urgency of the crisis and they could formulate a plan to avoid as many spectators as possible. Not only would it be a disservice to Rhiane to let her be seen like this, psychologically she could be damaged, and that would worsen her condition.

And, if Evolab wanted to survive through the next week, they'd do everything in their power to conceal this event. The reporters' story of how Violet Black and Edwin Black had been victims of the avarice and callous indifference of both Evolab the crown had been suppressed thus far, but if Rhiane Black were to be crippled or killed here and now, the implications that the same two parties were destroying an entire family would be impossible to hide. Tobias suspected that they had been framed but there were enough skeletons in the proverbial closet that the truth of an investigation would be moot. No one would ever not believe the three deaths were linked. For everyone's sake they needed the weakened brunette laying on the floor to be whisked away and healed as discreetly as possible.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

The girl that had attacked Rene and had nearly been struck in retaliation was as filthy as she was terrified. Instead of being covered in the phosphorescent algae that clung to the soldier and diplomat, which gave the pair an ethereal glow, she was caked in sand and salt left behind by evaporating sea water. Her lips were cracked and chapped from what Solae speculated was mild dehydration as there was no fresh water readily available on the beach. A long thick braid was ragged and half undone by the merciless wind, her hair plastered to her face and shoulders, and painfully tangled. The child's clothing was also ripped in several places and threadbare even where it had been left largely intact. Haggard, scared, and hungry, she was a shadow of the lively and healthy adolescent she must have been a week prior before the hurricane struck and left her stranded on this deserted island. It was nearly impossible for the linguist to conjure an image of what the girl might look like smiling and nourished.

As traumatized as she clearly was, Rene looked equally horrified at what might have occurred if he had not been stopped from swinging downward. Were his more petite companion launching a counter strike then the damage would be minimal if not negligible. Fortunately for him and unfortunately for his adversaries he had the benefit of combat training, years training and toiling to build muscle on a body already genetically disposed to tone more quickly, and swift reflexes undoubtedly also owing to certain scientific interventions of his ancestors. He could have killed her. The realization must have struck Rene the instant he dropped his arm for he fell mute and looked vaguely ill. His empathy in the face of adversity and concentrated efforts by his superiors to foster indifference made Solae love him that much more fiercely. Another marine might have shrugged and justified his instincts by rationalizing it was provoked- if they tried to excuse their actions at all. Had Rene slain an innocent he may have never forgiven himself even if it was purely accidental.

"Are you hurt?" she asked the girl gently. It was difficult to discern age but the girl was clearly pre-pubescent. If she was forced to make an estimation she would wager the young female was approximately nine or ten years old. The youth had backed several steps away from both of them and glanced back and forth with obvious skepticism. Solae was trying to keep her from bolting though even if she did there was not much danger in her flight- the adults were faster sprinters and there was no escaping the island without the aid of a boat of some sort.

After a moment's hesitation the girl shook her head vigorously to indicate no, she was not injured. Relief washed over the woman's features and she allowed herself a brief smile at her paramour for reassurance. Because he might be shaken she wanted him to be calmed by the knowledge no real harm had been done.

"I'm Solae and this is Rene," she introduced slowly. Using false identities might have been the more responsible course of action, considering there was a bounty on her head and they should be cautious about broadcasting Rene's survival, but she wouldn't sink so low as to lie to a vulnerable child. Even in war she had her scruples. "What's your name?"

Again the girl gave pause. She had not retreated farther but was obviously unsettled more by Rene's stature and weapon than she was of Solae. With the latter she stared unabashedly at the unusual hair color, which was glimmering like pale spun gold, that was so captivating. More than anything it told the child that these two did not belong because no one on Panopontus. None she knew had their colouring of skin or their angular facial features, much such a delicate hair hue. "Damaris," she whispered finally. If they were stranded because of the typhoon it might make them trustworthy. Every once in a while there were vacationers that wanted to see the exotic "world of water."

"That is a lovely name," Solae complimented with a soft smile as she knelt down in the wet sand. This made her shorter than the juvenile and hopefully less intimidating. Most of her professional life had been dealing with narcissistic officials and pompous government employees, so she was slightly out of her depth when it came to juveniles, though she thought she was making a good first impression given the circumstances.

"How long have you been out here, Damaris?" she asked gently.

"The storm carried me here," was the only response. Now that she had said a few words- rather than just one- it was clear she spoke with a different dialect than they personally utilized. There were no errors with her syntax or vernacular, but the enunciation was halted and syllable emphasis not quite correct, which was indicative of the fact this was probably not her first language. Solae could try to tease out of the girl what her first spoken language was but only once they were no longer exposed to the elements and any passing ships.

"Are you hungry and thirsty? If you promise not to try to hit my friend Rene again we can take you to our... shelter," she improvised. It was a huge risk to take but they couldn't have helpless Damaris wasting away on the outer edges of the caldera. Anything less than sharing in their rations would be unconscionable.

The Betrothed

Tobias Lavanchy was in quite the predicament. As Queen Camilla had almost certainly deduced, the palace staff was compromised. Since the death of her first husband, who was commoner by birth, the rebellion had gained momentum steadily. He knew for a fact he was not the only individual within the castle's walls that had joined its ranks as discontent among the lower and middle classes grew. Knowledge was compartmentalized by the leaders of the coup so he unfortunately did not know who was a loyalist and who was a passionate believer in the revolution's agenda. Perhaps servants of the royal family and courts had been frustrated by their proximity to titles and affluence just outside their reach. The bodyguard speculated that the more intimately someone new the nobility- their avarice, their condescension, their greed, their egos- the more it convinced that a change in power was absolutely needed. Very few saw the ugly side of the aristocracy bearing down upon them and were persuaded that there were no problems with the status quo.

But the rebellion was deeply divided on how to handle the issue of Rhiane Black.

Before she had been selected as the princess elect there had been no one to represent the general public so close to the crown. It had been easier to spread effective propaganda painting Queen Camilla, her prince consort, and her children as villains that would trample all over their rights and livelihoods. Since Rhiane's arrival, however, they had gained a figure to whom many could relate, who had struggled herself through loss and poverty, who was compassionate, who was charming, who seemed both honest and earnest. If anyone was capable of freezing their recruitment it was the bold and confident farmer who flashed bright smiles and walked among the elites as if she had always belonged.

The majority of the rebellion believed that someone as empathetic and intelligent as Rhiane could be brought to their side. If successful they would have someone who could spill all the secrets of the monarchy, who could give compelling speeches borne of personal experience, who could dispel the illusions the general public held onto that the queen only thought of their best interests. Right now all of their spokespersons were of low status and were only experts on the conditions that directly affected them. A vocal minority of the rebellion, however, thought the best way to capitalize on Rhiane's position was to make her into a martyr. Were she to tragically die now it would be a crushing blow to the crown; they would look incompetent, they would have to have a new contest for Luke's hand in marriage, and Rhiane would be forever remembered as an almost perfect princess elect. The common man and woman would be enraged. Their anger would galvanize resentment, would make them more likely to suspect Queen Camilla had her executed no matter the truth, and would remind everyone just how replaceable they were to the top of the social pyramid.

All of this led to Tobias's current problem. He did not know who among the palace staff was secretly a member of the rebellion or at least a sympathizer, he did not know who wanted to convert Rhiane and who might be plotting to kill her, and he could not even trust his cousin with his fears without outing his treason. The queen had appointed him in part, he thought, because she knew there were traitors in her midst and the family of her late husband was less likely to betray her than the heirs of less prestigious bloodlines that would benefit greatly from her downfall. He wanted Rhiane to defect to the revolutions' cause and leave Luke's sisde (who he saw as undeserving of her). If he did not act quickly, however, it was possible if not probable an assassination would happen right under his nose.

"You are a very kind person, Tobias," Rhiane said, cutting through his thoughts and momentarily distracting him from the life-or-death situation that threatened her without her knowledge. "But we must both admit there is more I could do besides a vaccination program... assuming, of course, that the promises made today are honored."

Her male counterpart was silent. Although he had to concede she was correct, if he was to help motivate her to help New Rome's citizens while still as fiancee to Prince Luke, heir to the throne, then it would be counter to his interests. Never had he imagined that he would be compelled not to help the suffering destitute for the perceived greater good.

"I'm not sure what the schedule includes for the national tour, but perhaps between the bouts of sight-seeing we could visit a hospital, or a shelter, or a food bank, or some other charitable center for the indigent and ill," she wondered aloud. Before she could continue that train of thought a waiter had come to their table with a large platter artfully decorated with several varieties of gourmet appetizers.

"Oh, thank you," she said as she selected three different types to sample. "Would you like any, Tobias."

"It would not be proper, Ms. Black," he said with a nod to the waiter who departed once it was clear that they were finished with the tray. "Does the wine not suit you? I am happy to request a glass of water instead," he offered politely.

"No, I'm just not familiar with the etiquette regarding this sort of drink," she confessed easily. "One sip should be all right, shouldn't it?" she queried rhetorically as she took the tiniest of sips. It was more sweet than she had anticipated- as she was used to the bitter taste of liquor with its high alcohol concentration- but not unpleasant. Once her mouth was washed with the liquid she delicately bit into a cracker garnished with a topping completely foreign to her.

Suddenly Tobias was anxious. If he were a member of the rebellion fixated on making Rhiane into a martyr this would be the perfect setting to impute culpability onto a corporate conglomerate, as well as create conspiracies that the royal family and the nobility were involved given their attendance and Rhiane's relative isolation at the event. Hopefully he was just being paranoid. The odds of any single attendant being a compatriot was improbably low. As the princess elect continued to eat with impeccable manners, however, he had to admit it wasn't impossible.

The Betrothed

Rhiane didn't blame Luke. He was older than she was and had been saddled with responsibilities as crown prince for some time now, but she sincerely doubted that eight years ago Queen Camilla would have entrusted the crisis to him if only to spare the monarchy from any scandal that might have emerged from missteps borne from inexperience. It took perfect control to paint the epidemic as a tragedy that an unavoidable health nightmare through the media. If he had utilized the wrong syntax, or not anticipated an avenue of the press coverage, or not had the leverage of power to bend the broadcast to his will their reputation would have been severely damaged. The queen might love her son but she would not unnecessarily gamble with him before he had the benefit of a few more years under his belt to form the necessary business relationships to suppress certain news. Even now Rhiane suspected that Luke didn't have expertise in handling the public as deftly as his mother might want.

She couldn't confirm, however, that she didn't fault both Queen Camilla and Evolab as well as some of the physicians that had been initially dispatched to the affected areas. Many people heard words drip from the lips of the doctors that there was nothing they could do because, while there might be a cure, or various treatments to delay the progress of the deadly affliction, or they could ease the suffering of the dying with pain medication, they personally could not finance the costs of all their patients. It had all come down to money. The crown didn't jump at the chance to subsidize some of their poorest citizens' pain management or cures. Evolab didn't generously donate their resources even as a charitable contribution that could be used on tax deductions. No one wanted to pay for the poverty-stricken and unsightly ill that were not part of their community or social circles. Rhiane had read on the first anniversary of the 'eradication' that the disease that had really killed so many loved ones was poverty.

Unfortunately for all three princes and the princess, many saw them as "fruit of the poisoned tree." Princess Calista was viewed more positively than the rest because of her perceived innocence and affable charm. There would be more difficultly for her fiance when he toured the nation. Not just the rebellion saw him as his mother's son, someone who was fiercely loyal to the aristocratic blood that flowed through his veins rather than that of his common father, someone who had all but abandoned half of his parentage. Now that she knew the man in question she worried for his composure if he realized just how much even her brother and father saw him just another generation of his mother, as if his father never existed at all, and how the belief he had forgotten the late consort was a galvanizing force against him.

Whether Luke would show empathy and understanding for all of New Rome, not just the titled and wealthy, remained to be seen. If he could, and if he could more earnestly participate in the romantic charade of their engagement, he might start to legitimately hinder the progression of the revolution.

"Tobias," she greeted as he slid into the chair previously occupied by his cousin. His hair had been carefully slicked back and while his intentions had not been challenge the finery or chiseled features of the attendees of this business event, it was hard not to notice that he was much more handsome than the other bodyguards littered around the edges of the room. Speculation about his bachelor status was not unwarranted. Had he had the desire he could have left a trail of broken hearts just as easily as Luke had though it would have been with another subsection of society.

"Miss Black," he replied in monotone with a nod of his head. In private he might have the freedom- with her approval- to address her by her first name, but in this setting such casual familiarity would have been wildly inappropriate.

"What do you think of the vaccination initiative I proposed? Not as Luke's cousin, or a member of the extended royal family, or even as my newly appointed bodyguard, but just... as a member of the world?" she asked. It was a lot to ask. So much of Tobias's life was governed by his status she wasn't certain if she would get the honest answer she wanted if she received one at all. Fortunately the taciturn individual was forthcoming when he put forth the effort to engage in conversation.

"I do not think most of the candidates would conclude their first interview thinking of others," he stated resolutely. It was the diplomatic way to say that many of the women had competed for the money, fame, and arm candy alone, not because they had selfless motivations. Of the ones he had seen that might be more compassionate some were so tender-hearted he had thought they'd be eaten alive in the courts if Luke himself didn't destroy them first. "I think it is a very worthy goal and it makes me glad you were chosen above the rest. I am sure some of the citizens feel the same."

It was an unabashed compliment that made Rhiane first smile and then grin without restraint. Onlookers might wonder what they were discussing especially since Tobias's posture was so rigid while Rhiane was reclining slightly but away from her companion rather than towards. Luke would not be fielding rumors that they were infatuated, as their body language and physical distance made it clear they were not, but he might have a few questions as to why such a lowly servitor was able to befriend someone who was more guarded with them.

The Betrothed

Rhiane had barely kept herself from rolling her eyes from Luke's chastisement framed by an analogy. It was his calling her 'sexy' that sent another mixed message that made her mind whirl to a stop mid-objection. As confusing as the courts might be she had thought that he would be honest with her if she was with him; it was mutually beneficial if they could communicate clearly since their reputations affected one another directly. In practice she had found him horribly confusing. Either Luke himself wasn't quite certain how to handle the arranged marriage he was being thrust into or he was more mischievous than she had anticipated.

"You shouldn't worry. Even if I do end up aggravating my injury, or if I am purposefully toppled over again as I told you happened the first time, Tobias is going with us on the tour. The inconvenience to you should be minimal," she reassured before she found herself saying, "and I stand by my choice. If I was going to attend I wanted to ensure that I at least made a certain impression." Whether or not the fellow attendees of influence interpreted her the way she wished to be perceived remained to be seen. The princess elect was hopeful that they would see her heels as a subtle reinforcement of the strength she had shown in the contest. It was not just physical strength that had carried her to victory. Mental fortitude was just as, if not more, critical to her past, present, and future, and would be more relevant if she wanted to achieve any goals before Queen Camilla had her executed. No one- not even Luke himself- would let her spearhead any initiatives if they thought her weak and meek.

When the wine glass was delivered to their table Rhiane delicately placed it in front of her. Back on the farm she drank enough alcohol that her tolerance was higher than her brother and almost as remarkable as her father's. For the past few years they had been discreetly creating their own liquor with a distill set up on the edge of a field closest to the forest. Her hesitation in partaking was that she wasn't very familiar with wine. What it was supposed to taste like, how much she should politely imbibe without embarrassing them, how closely she should time her sips. There were many things she needed an education on to really navigate professional affairs much to her chagrin. Ordering a tall mug of dark beer would be more comfortable but scandalous for the royal couple.

Luke's question jerked her attention away from the beverage. "It's for the best I don't answer that," she said slowly. Rhiane had resolved not to lie to him so she didn't falsely assert she couldn't answer; however, she knew if they discussed how she personally assigned fault he might stumble into the realization Evolab wasn't the only entity she blamed. No matter how strained and challenging they might find their current relationship, he had not taken her prior deceptions well, and she certainly misled in every interview that even alluded to the tragedy of eight years ago. The princess elect blamed the crown for their part in her loss. If she didn't love her family more than she cared about her own livelihood she would have never submitted herself to relation to the cold indifference of the monarchy. That was what had put such a strain on her small surviving family unit.

"But what I will tell you is that when my mother fell ill we took her to the doctor. She was everything to us and so we panicked. The diagnosis was frightening but she wasn't past the "point of no return"- it was just that treatment was costly. We took her home and tried to...," Rhiane paused and cleared her throat. Thus far she had kept her composure but it was evident that the topic conjured painful memories. Her voice became increasingly detached as she compartmentalized and spoke as if it was someone else's story. If Luke idly wondered if the woman had allowed her time and space to grieve he would know now she had not. "We tried to scrape together enough money to pay for the medications. Then Edwin was sick and knew from his symptoms that he had what Mom did... but it was too late for both of them. When you're as poor as we were liquidating funds is a challenge in the best of situations. It had spread far enough in our vicinity that no one could buy our equipment because they needed to help save themselves, or someone else they knew, or they just could not afford it with spiking prices with so many people not working."

She sighed. "On official records it says we didn't take mother or brother to a physician until they were incurable. According to those reports there's no one to blame and, if there was, it would be the negligent people who inexplicably let their loved ones waste away without seeking medical attention." That was to say with the careful editing that was done both during and after the epidemic Evolab and the throne were innocent and she, her surviving brother, and her father were guilty of 'letting' death claim the lives of Violet Black and Edwin Black. It was insult to injury.

"I can say that right now I don't personally blame Mr. Wescott. Any sins of his predecessor aren't his," she added, "it's what he chooses to do with the truth, and how he steers the company forward hereafter, that I will judge him by." Rhiane danced around drawing a parallel to her fiance. Even in the privacy of the island she did not feel safe enough with the crown prince to say she thought his mother was deeply flawed, but it was a close as she could come to stating that transgressions of Queen Camilla were not Luke's in her mind. There was still an opportunity for him to set himself apart and choose a path of his own making rather than the one she laid out. "Right now I can't say he's my favorite person, though. That he thought I was a naive idiot speaks to a gap in his expertise."

The Betrothed

"The stilettos were my idea," Rhiane immediately replied to his inquiry without an ounce of shame or regret. "You've spent time in the military. Is there not a saying about not wading onto a battlefield unarmed? If you thought I considered this business event as anything less you are sorely mistaken. I knew I needed every weapon in my arsenal and not just for myself; if I did not wear high-heeled shoes like every other woman in attendance they would be whispering about how weak your fiancee was to let her injury get the best of her." Tobias, her attendants, and the medical staff that had been summoned briefly for a consult on what medicines to take with them in case of an emergency had all stringently opposed her selection. Unfortunately for all of them the princess elect outranked them and used this to her advantage. Queen Camilla had been busy, Luke absent, and there was not enough time for Dr. Gulsvig to intervene even if he had been so inclined. The former farmer flexed her powers in unusual circumstances and without the slightest consideration for her own well-being. Her casual tone and disposition suggested that she was relatively apathetic if she worsened the sprained joint.

She sincerely didn't know why he was so invested in her health. For a man that had to be physically chained to her by his mother to keep him from fleeing to someone else's bed it was bizarre. Multiple times now he had expressed concern between bouts of dismissal and annoyance without any real explanation. Luke did not seem the type to worry himself unnecessarily over people he cared little for. At first she had thought he was anxious about how she might reflect upon him but it felt less and less that was his primary motivation.

"There's nothing to be intimidated by," she proclaimed as she took her seat. She was speaking of Alec Wescott of course but she paused to address her betrothed. "Thank you," Rhiane said. It was etiquette that might have compelled the heir to the throne to pull out her chair but she wanted to express her gratitude nonetheless. "He has everything to lose by campaigning against me and I have very little, if nothing, to lose in comparison. It's in his best interests to play nicely with me but I do not feel any such obligation towards him."

And what she said was true. Queen Camilla, Ms. Viscomi, and the rest of the public relations team in the employ of the crown would protect Rhiane from scandal so long as it was within reason. Trying to replace a princess elect would be an inconvenience at best but potentially catastrophic at worst. If Alec Wescott in particular tried to smear her name he would be gambling whether or not the shrewd monarch would keep the reporters at bay that were angling to expose the tragic circumstances that had resulted in the loss of both Violet Black and Edwin Black eight years ago. The queen was not blameless but if she launched the story first she could paint Evolab as the true enemy of the public, or at least portray herself as trying to right wrongs and make amends by taking the former farmer into the family, while Evolab was attacking a victim of their corporate greed. He would quickly realize it was a fight that could destroy the international pharmaceutical empire or at least give their competitors a strong edge to replace their standing.

"I hope he delivers the documentation," she admitted honestly as she crossed her legs. A few lords glanced over at the movement despite themselves and glimpsed the long, immaculately bronzed skin that shifted the pencil skirt to hug the curves more. Sofia might be a distraction for the 'party' but so was the sultry vixen clad in professional attire. "Financial records are seldom as flawless as they first appear if you dig deep enough and he no doubt expects me to applaud his social programs more generously than is reality. If he's bold enough to also launch the investigation- well, I never actually intended to accept his partnership- but that doesn't mean I can't use my endorsement as leverage to get accountability. We can't change the past but we can try to right its wrongs, can't we?" she sighed.

They had never spoken explicitly about their deceased parents but she suspected that Luke might be able to empathize. He knew who killed his father as well as why but she doubted he ever truly "got over it." Nothing would bring back the dead but there was a part of her that wanted people to mourn besides her, for someone to help shoulder the sense of blame and loss, to not ache at the injustice. As she looked at Like she wondered idly if he tried to forget the late king or, if not, how he chose to remember his father. Rhiane did not know the any of the royalty intimately even now but he had seemed to be a good man, someone that even her family had approved of, and who was sorely missed in the current climate. If her fiance could be a few steps closer to his paternal side rather than so solidly representative of the maternal...

"Is something wrong?" she asked when he fell quiet. "If there is something you need to address Tobias can keep me company while you are busy. He quite agrees with you the stilettos were a poor choice so he will absolutely make certain I don't leave the table."