One week later Rose was sitting up in her bed sewing. She had grown so bored that she had begged Brianne to find her any work that she could do. Brianne walked into the room looking tired. She had been up late last night attending to a little boy who had sliced his arm open playing with a dagger.
"Are you well?" Rose asked the healer as she stumbled towards her supplies cupboard.
"Yes, yes. Merely tired. I must check your wounds." Rose had been steadily improving over the last week. Brianne said the chance of the infection growing worse seemed highly unlikely. The Prince had not visited her again, but Rose did not mind for she told herself over and over that he was the Prince and she was a servant.
Rose waited patiently as the healer unwrapped her bandage. Brianne cleaned off the remaining honey and herbs coating the wounds so that they could see the progress better. They both looked down at her stomach. Rose grinned. By now nearly all of the irritated redness had faded. The wounds no longer oozed or had pus. Brianne studied the injuries carefully before murmuring something to herself and nodding. She looked up at Rose, her eyes twinkling, and nodded again.
"I believe the infection is gone," she said. Rose gasped and tried to suppress her urge to celebrate. The relief was so strong, she felt as though she had never been so cheerful. "Your wounds are healing well," the healer continued. "However, they were deep punctures and will take some time to completely close over. I will permit you to return to the castle, but you must come back in three days so that I can remove the last stitches and check your progress. Try not to aggravate the wounds for they will bleed more. You may do only light labor, I do not want you exhausting yourself." Rose nodded her agreement.
"Thank you! I thank you, Brianne, you have been so attentive to me. I cannot ever thank you enough for saving my life." Brianne showed a rare moment of emotion as her expression slipped into a wide smile.
"You are welcome, Rose."
The healer retrieved a new, plain female garment that Rose could wear back to the palace. After having her stomach bandaged again, Rose slipped into the dress, moving carefully and slowly. It felt amazing to be allowed to stand up and walk around longer than only a few minutes. Rose was dressed and ready to leaving within half of an hour. She walked towards the door, nearly skipping with joy. Thank you, God. Thank you, thank you, thank you, she sang as she walked.
Brianne opened the door for her. Rose peered outside and inhaled deeply as the fresh air met her. The sun was shining outside and it warmed her skin with such a pleasant sensation. People were bustling about outside, talking and laughing and even shouting. Rose grinned. She turned around to say goodbye to Brianne. Brianne was standing inside holding the door, she did not make a move to stand outside. Rose watched her for a moment. Brianne was a firm healer who did not show much emotion, but Rose had grown fond of her.
"Farewell, Brianne," Rose said, curtseying as a way to show her gratitude.
"Farewell, Rose. Remember," she called just as Rose was turning to leave. Rose stopped and waited. "No hard labor." She grinned at the healer's final words and nodded.
"I promise."
Rose walked at a gentle pace. She was grateful that the healer was so near to the castle as the walk did not take long. She walked past the main entrance of the castle and headed for the servants entrance out by the side of the castle. Had it only been weeks ago that she had been led here fearing her punishment? Now she was walking freely to the place she called home.
She stepped through the servants entrance and beamed. It felt good to be back here. Some of the servants recognised her and waved or called out greetings, but she was not close friends with any of them. Rose smiled and waved back then continued on her walk. She entered another door, walked down the hall, and then entered the door at the end. She was in the kitchen. The kitchen was mostly empty as the next meal was not for a few hours.
Rose grinned as she spotted Mistress Eudora standing in the storeroom. She walked up to her as quietly as she could then cleared her throat loudly. Mistress Eudora jumped and turned around. Her shock only increased as she stared at Rose. Tears flooded into her eyes as she gazed at Rose.
"Oh. Oh, my dear Rose." Mistress Eudora sprang forward and wrapped Rose into a tight hug, careful to avoid her injured stomach. Her embrace was so strong, Rose felt as if her breath was being squeezed out from her. Rose hugged her back and held back her own tears. In many ways, Mistress Eudora was becoming like a mother to Rose. It had been so long since she had experienced the affection and love of an older woman. Mistress Eudora released Rose and wiped away a few stray tears that had escaped.
"I missed you, Mistress Eudora," Rose said. Mistress Eudora continued wiping away the tears that were starting to fall.
"This was all my fault, Rose. I never should have sent you that night, when I heard about the wolf I feared the worst. And then when I found out you were fighting an infection..." Mistress Eudora trailed off. "I thought we were going to lose you. Can you ever, ever forgive me?" Rose fought back her own tears.
"You must not think this way, Mistress Eudora. It was not your fault. I was the one who chose to go to the woods even though it was dark. You did not send the wolf, you did not cause the infection, it was not your fault," Rose murmured, holding Mistress Eudora's shoulder lightly. Mistress Eudora chuckled, seeming a little embarrassed, as she rubbed her eyes and cleared her throat.
"I am so glad to see you, child. Anabelle has been so worried, she will be overjoyed to see you again. We have been praying together for you every morning. But come now, I insist I treat you to some food first." Rose smiled as she thought of dear Anabelle, she had missed her friend very much. Rose waited by the table in the middle of the kitchen as Mistress Eudora rushed to find some food. Truthfully, she was not very hungry, but she was happy to be able to spend some time with her Mistress.
Mistress Eudora entered the room a minute later with a plate of food. There was a slice of cake, some cheese, fruit, and bread. She placed the plate of food in front of Rose and gestured to it.
"Eat," she insisted. Rose giggled and picked up a grape.
"Only if you share with me."
The two were talking and having easy conversation with each other as they shared the meal. Rose picked up a piece of cheese just as the door to the kitchen burst open. The women jumped and ceased their conversation as a figure appeared. It was none other than Prince Tristan who entered, but he did not see who was in the room as he was looking at something over his shoulder. Rose dropped the piece of cheese onto her plate and folded her arms behind her back.
"Mistress Eudora, do you have..." the Prince trailed off as he turned his head and realised Rose was in the room. He did not say anything but merely gazed at her with his wide, warm brown eyes. He looked her up and down, seeming to be trying to convince himself that she was really there. Rose felt her heart pound as the Prince studied her. They had not spoken since that day in the healer's home.
"You're back," the Prince finally said, a hidden emotion thick on his voice.
"Aye, my lord," Rose murmured. She felt awkward as she stood in his presence. After her realisation that the Prince was perhaps a good man, Rose no longer knew how to act around him. The Prince took a few steps closer and Mistress Eudora moved to the other side of the room so they could talk between themselves.
"The infection?" The Prince asked.
"I fought it," Rose said with a smile. Prince Tristan grinned, a wide beam on his face and satisfaction in his eyes. They both looked up as the door burst open again and two giggling maidservants entered the room. They hushed themselves when they realised that the Prince was in the room and dropped into curtseys.
Rose could see curiosity on their faces, and with a start she took a few steps away from the Prince. It was not proper for a Prince and servant to be exchanging in a private conversation. The rumours would spread and both she and the Prince could fall into trouble. Prince Tristan seemed to realise this at the same time, and he too took a few steps away from her. Rose cleared her throat. She did not know how to define the relationship between her and the Prince, but they were not as they should be. Rose walked over to Mistress Eudora's side as she thought of a way to escape.
"I think I shall... go and visit Anabelle now. I will see you later," Rose said. Mistress Eudora nodded her consent and waved as Rose turned. Rose walked past the two servants and tried to ignore their probing gazes. She hurried to the door and pulled it open slowly. As she was leaving she looked up at Prince Tristan, who was still standing in the same position, and nodded her polite goodbye as she averted her eyes. It was time that she started behaving as a servant should.
She was walking up the stairs when she heard the pounding of running feet behind her. Rose turned around only to see the Prince charging up behind her. She widened her eyes and stepped to the side, expecting him to dash past her, but he slowed down and came to a stop by her instead.
"Your Highness, what are you-"
"Come with me, I know where we can talk without being disturbed," the Prince interrupted, moving ahead of her so he could lead her. I am a servant.
"No," Rose answered after a moment, "I cannot." Prince Tristan turned around to face her with an inquisitive expression. Rose tried to push past him as she spoke. "Your Majesty, you are nobility and I am a servant. While I appreciate everything you have done for me, we cannot continue conversing. Think how angry your Father would be if he heard the rumours spread that a Prince had a friend in a servant. Your reputation would be ruined." The Prince held out his arm to stop her walking past him. They were still on the staircase, no one was around them.
"I know what you are and I know what I am-"
"Then you need to leave me alone," Rose interrupted, her eyes wide.
"You were not always a servant. Once you were a beggar, and though unusual, it would not have been improper for a beggar to speak with the Prince. Why should it be any different for a servant? As for my reputation, I am fairly certain it is already in pieces - I managed to do that all by myself. All I wanted to do was talk with you," the Prince defended. Rose climbed up two stairs so she was the same height as him. Images flashed in her head of the King's fury, of her being accused of subterfuge to gain riches, or people claiming she had been sent to learn the Prince's weaknesses. People could be unkind, particularly to a known beggar.
"You must leave me alone," Rose begged the Prince.
"No, I shall not," the Prince answered as he averted his eyes.
"You must. A Prince talking to a servant is acceptable, but a servant talking to a Prince is not. Even if you were left alone, I would be condemned to rumours and hatred. Do not do this to me, I am nothing next to you – you must keep this in mind." The Prince did not answer for a moment as he thought over her words. Lord, help him see reason.
"Rose... You are the only person who does not treat me like I am royalty. You treat me like I am your equal and nothing greater than you. You are not false, pretending to like me if you do not. I admire your qualities. You are not nothing next to me, do not say that."
"Your Highness, I shall bow to you and treat you like the King if it causes you to remember your station in life," Rose answered without a whisper of a smile.
"I do not want that from you," the Prince murmured as he met her expression evenly. "Your... unwavering refusal to act as you should is unfamiliar. I like being around you."
"That is not a good thing," Rose responded firmly, despite feeling flattered from his comment.
"It is to me," the Prince answered. Rose did her best to frown deeply, although she was starting to relax and lose her resolve to fight.
"What if I told you that I despised your presence and never wanted to talk to you again?"
"I would not believe you," Prince Tristan responded with a cheeky smile. Rose laughed softly and turned to climb the rest of the stairs. The Prince followed. "I was going to visit you at Brianne's today, anyway. So you see it makes no difference if we are talking here or there," he stated as they walked.
"Very well, my lord, we shall talk. But do not be mad with me when the rumours start – I warned you," Rose told him, though it was likely she would be the one facing majority of the rumours. She sighed to herself, it not as though she was unused to facing the spite of others.
"I will not be mad with you," the Prince promised. "Tell me what Brianne said." They had reached the top of the staircase now. There did not seem to be many people around and Rose began to wonder why she had felt so panicked. It was true, they were not doing anything wrong.
"Brianne said that the infection is gone but that I must only do light labor," Rose summarised. She stopped walking and turned to look at the Prince. He too stopped to stare back at her.
"Is something on your mind?" He asked her with a slight smile as he tilted his head curiously. Rose cleared her throat and clasped her hands behind her back, suddenly nervous.
"When I arrived here people told me that I was wrong about you. I did not believe them. But now I do, I understand what they meant. You are a good man. I am glad to have met you." Rose felt her cheeks flush as she said the words. She did not know what prompted her to say them, but the smile on the Prince's face was enough to make her believe she had said the right thing.
"And you are a good woman," Prince Tristan said in return. "I am glad to know you and call you my friend." Rose quirked one eyebrow up at that.
"I did not realise we were friends, my lord," she said as she continued to walk. The Prince caught up with her easily enough.
"Are we not?"
"Hmm... no," she said in jest as she picked a flower out from a vase she was passing. Prince Tristan was smiling, though in his eyes Rose could see he was confused. She tried not to laugh at his expression.
"You say that even after I so gallantly saved you from the wolf?"
"Yes," she said boldly as she held the flower up under her nose. She peeked up at him above the petals of the flower, wondering briefly if he disapproved of her behaviour. She was in such a joyful mood from leaving the healer's room, it was hard to stay serious.
"You wound me with your words, perhaps I will be next to see Brianne," the Prince said seriously, but Rose could see his eyes twinkling with amusement. Rose pondered his previous words thoughtfully for a moment. Were they friends? She enjoyed talking to him, and he never treated her as though she was only his servant. They seemed to find entertainment in talking to each other, and it was true that they were more than just acquaintances. Rose smelled the flower as she came to her decision.
"We are friends, Your Highness," she finally said.
"Aye, we are," he murmured his agreement as he took the flower from her hands. "You should know though," he said as he studied the flower, "that all my friends call me Tristan." He looked up at her and raised his eyebrows expectantly. Rose blushed again and stole the flower back from him. Its petals were a beautiful pink that reminded her of spring weather. A pang hurt her heart as she remembered pink flowers were Tilly's favourite. Rose glanced back up at the Prince, pulling herself away from the grief. He was still waiting for her to speak.
"Very well, Tristan," she responded. It felt odd calling him by his first name, it seemed too personal and unsuitable. But Tristan merely grinned at her as she looked away nervously. She suddenly felt as though she had committed a great crime. In the distance they could hear voices speaking loudly, drawing closer. She and Tristan were not doing anything wrong, but Rose did not feel like being asked questions by all of the servants. Tristan cleared his throat and took one step away from her.
"I should be going..." He trailed off and shrugged helplessly.
"Yes, yes of course."
"Farewell, Rose," he said, taking a few steps backwards.
"Farewell... Your Highness," she responded deliberately. The Prince frowned and opened his mouth as if to speak, but Rose laughed and hurried away, rounding a corner before he could respond. From the distance she heard him laughing merrily.
Rose walked through the hall she had entered and passed a group of servants – the cause of the voices they had just heard. Rose smiled at them and ducked her head, walking past the group as if she had not just been talking to the Prince and declaring their friendship.
~
Tristan hummed to himself as he strode to the stables. A small group of the Knights were meeting up to go hunting. Hunting was a popular activity among the men of nobility, and whilst Tristan himself did not particularly enjoy the task, as the Prince he was expected to join.
He entered the stable and found his horse already saddled and waiting. Tristan thanked the stable boy and mounted his destrier, Tocker. He urged Tocker out through the castle gates where he found the group of Knights clustering together. The men on their horses nodded their heads in respect as Tristan pulled up beside them. He nodded back at them and greeted the few closest to him. Samuel arrived and brought his horse closer to Tristan. They waited a few more minutes as the last members of the hunting group arrived.
Together, Tristan and Samuel turned their horses around to lead the group. The rest of the Knights followed, chatting loudly amongst themselves. Samuel did not speak, so Tristan allowed himself to daydream as they headed along the trail to the forest.
It seemed Rose had finally, truly forgiven him. Tristan had never felt a huge amount of gratitude towards God, but all of a sudden it flooded through him. God had spared Rose's life and helped her to see that there was more to Tristan than just an uncaring Prince. He shuddered as he imagined what would have happened if he had not reached Rose in time, if he had never even found her that night in the woods. Thank you, God.
Tristan had never met someone who so easily made him smile and laugh, or who knew how to challenge and intrigue him – much less in a servant. He had often viewed the servants as people without much character, but Rose had the most spirit he had ever seen in anyone.
He inhaled deeply as he thought about her. The way her hair, textured and fair, flowed down to her hips. The perfect rose colouring of her lips, enhanced when she gave a rare, true smile. The way her striking grey eyes could enrapture him immediately. And above all, her beautiful voice that entranced him and everyone around her.
"Sire?" Tristan blinked and snapped out of his thoughts, the image of Rose dissolving from his mind. Samuel was staring at him with a blank expression. Tristan looked around briefly. They were in the outskirts of the woods now, heading deeper into the foliage.
"Did you say something, Samuel?" The Prince asked with a guilty, apologetic look. Samuel rolled his eyes and released an amused groan.
"Never mind, Your Highness. I can see your attention was elsewhere." Their horses were continuing at a steady pace. The Knights followed behind them a few meters away, paying no attention to Samuel and Tristan.
"You have my apologies, Samuel."
"I am surprised to find you inattentive once again," Samuel continued without acknowledging Tristan's words. "You have been more distracted and quiet lately, will you share what has been occupying your thoughts, my lord?" Tristan hesitated. Samuel was his closest friend, but he had a feeling he knew what Samuel would say if he told the truth.
"It is nothing serious," Tristan finally responded, opting for evading the question. Samuel remained quiet for a minute as he watched the ground in front of them, looking for animal tracks.
"Nothing, you say? I am wrong, then, to assume that your mind was caught on the matter of one servant girl?" Samuel asked, smiling in amusement. Lulled by the friendly expression of Samuel, Tristan's eyes widened in surprise as he revealed the truth.
"I shall never understand how you so easily read my thoughts, Samuel."
"It is a talent that will likely remain a mystery, my lord," Samuel responded, still smiling though his eyes were serious. "You were thinking about her – the servant girl?"
"Aye... on this occasion." Samuel's shoulders stiffened and he looked away. Tristan waited anxiously for him to speak.
"She is a pretty girl, but a servant – an orphaned beggar. You must not let your head be turned by her, Tristan," Samuel warned.
"There is more to her than just being a servant," Tristan responded with a fixed expression. Samuel's eyes hardened in response.
"My lord, I say this as your friend and as your counsel. It would not be appropriate for the Prince to be caught daydreaming and thinking about a servant girl." His words were firm and serious. Tristan looked away angrily.
"She is my friend." He heard Samuel scoff at his words.
"She shouldn't be." There was a tense silence between the two. Tristan glared at Samuel but Samuel did not submit and look away.
"I do not appreciate being told whom I may and may not call my friends," Tristan warned.
"Forgive me, my lord. It was not my intention to attempt to command you. I am only trying to help guide you."
"I do not recall asking for your guidance nor your advice," Tristan answered, bristled. Samuel sighed, exasperated, and gave Tristan a meaningful look.
"Be reasonable, Tristan, only a fool does not accept advice."
"It is not I who is the fool but you, for you cannot see beyond your own social ideals. Were Rose nobility you would not be able to find one qualm against her."
"The matter remains the same - her station in life is not fitting for you, Tristan. She is not nobility, no matter how you view her or how she behaves. You should end this friendship before it begins."
"That is enough, Samuel," Tristan ordered sharply with a hard glare. Samuel clamped his mouth shut and looked away angrily. Tristan forced himself to slow his breathing. He was agitated from his argument, he was certain his blood was boiling beneath his skin. Neither of them said another word, though the tension pulsed between the two.
A sudden shout sounded from behind Tristan.
"A deer! To the west!" The Knights roared enthusiastically and galloped past Tristan and Samuel, chasing the direction of the hart. Samuel did not join the charge, though he was usually passionate about hunting.
"Samuel, you are my friend and I respect you and your counsel, you know that. But this is not a matter that I permit you to speak on," Tristan said as gently as he could.
"Of course, Your Majesty, as you wish." He said the words politely, but his expression showed detachment and frustration. Tristan rarely treated Samuel as Knight under his command whom he could order, but when he did he could tell it irked Samuel. Tristan smiled briefly as he recalled the many times he had told Samuel "you have to do what I say because I am the Prince" when they were children.
"You know you are like a brother to me," Tristan said, knowing it would soften Samuel. "There is none I favour as highly as you." Samuel smiled and relaxed his shoulders. Tristan knew he was forgiven. He brought his horse closer to Samuel and laughed as Samuel pushed him on the shoulder. "Brothers?" Tristan asked.
"Brothers," Samuel responded, knocking his fist against Tristan's. The two men exchanged nods then urged their horses forward to join the hunt.