Tristan watched the hurried, retreating form of Rose as she ran from him. Immediately he slapped his hand to his forehead. His heart pounded as guilt and anger raced through his blood. He should not have held her so long and kissed her hand. He certainly should never have asked her for that final dance. The angry pulsing of his heart gradually faded into a dull ache as he stood alone. She was right to turn away from him, but the pain of rejection still made itself known.
With an angry grunt, Tristan left his position amongst the town dancers. What had come over him? They had spent a pleasant evening together and he had kept his mind throughout the night. But once the walzer began and she danced so close to him, Tristan had found it impossible to let her go. She had looked so beautiful and vulnerable, she had enraptured him, entranced him. With another painful ache in his chest, Tristan realized he was losing his heart to the servant girl. If only she were nobility. He would have swept Rose away and begged to pay court to her the moment he had laid eyes on the girl.
Tristan inhaled sharply. What would he do? He could not court the girl, no matter how his heart seemed to call for her. It would be best to take hold of his heart before he lost it completely to her. He should let her go, refuse to ever speak with her again. The weight of the world seemed to crush his shoulders as he thought of never speaking to Rose again. He could not bear it. I can't stay away from her, he realized in shock. How had this happened? There was a time where he would never have looked at a servant as anything other than a lowly peasant, much less a beggar. He pondered the situation for a moment and thought of Rose. In truth, he was not so surprised. He had not been able to separate his thoughts from her since the moment they had met. Rose was not just a servant girl, and she would never be just that to him. What am I to do?
He would talk with her again, he knew that much - that was, if he had not permanently scared her away with his actions that night. But then what? He groaned. This was an impossible situation; he could not be with her but he could not stay away from her. It was easy to say he could keep his heart in check when away from her, but he knew the moment he was in her presence he would lose control. He was not himself when he was with Rose, yet he was more himself than ever when he was with her. Tristan frowned deeply in confusion.
With a start, Tristan realised he had walked the entire way back to the castle. He had been so deep in thought that he had not paid attention to how far he was walking. He entered the castle and strode through the halls, heading towards his chambers. He was in no mood to talk to anyone and paid no attention to the people around him.
The sound of a chiming laugh had him halting in his steps. No, no, not tonight, please not tonight. Desperately he looked around for a place to hide. There was nowhere, he was in an open hall and he doubted hiding behind the curtains would be inconspicuous. Resigned, he prepared himself for his fate.
Suzanna entered the hallway and grinned when she saw him. Tristan loved his sister dearly, but at this moment he did not feel like speaking with anyone - and she was the most talkative of them all.
"Brother!" Suzanna cried, walking up to him. Tristan smiled, more of a grimace, and they began walking down the hall together. He hoped to reach his chambers as soon as he could. "That's a funny hat. I like your disguise, though you still look like the Prince to me. I suppose that is because you are my brother and I know you. How was the festival? Crowded, I imagine. Did you dance with anyone? I would wager any maiden would have been thrilled to be chosen by you - Prince or not. You are very handsome, though perhaps I should not say so because you really do not need any more self-confidence. Did people recognize you? My, imagine what chaos would have developed if people had realized the presence of royalty was in their midst," Suzanna prattled, giggling every now and then.
Tristan sighed quietly to himself. She was certainly full of topics to speak of. Perhaps she would talk so much he would not need to say a word. His sister had barely paused for a breath before she continued to talk. "I wonder now if I should have gone to the festival, perhaps I shall go to the next one. Maybe father will pay a travelling entertainer to amuse us one evening, I do love to hear their stories and music. I am sure the town sounded lovely with all the entertainers. Oh, the town! Father told me about your plans to build a house for the homeless, I think that is so kind and good of you. Rose would be overjoyed to hear the news. Speaking of Rose, did you see her tonight? I gave her one of my dresses, you know. I wish I'd had the chance to see what she looked like. Did you see her?" Suzanna finally paused and looked up at Tristan, waiting for his answer. Tristan merely nodded his confirmation, he was nearly at his chambers.
"You did see her? Well how marvellous, do you think she recognized you? I suppose I shall have to ask her all about it tomorrow. Wait," she said as Tristan raised his hand to open his door. Tristan turned his head to look at his sister. "You must tell me else I shall not get a sliver of sleep. Was the dress suitable? How did she look?" Tristan opened his door and paused at the entrance. Memories of the way Rose looked floated over his mind. His heart stammered just at the thought.
"She was... breathtaking," he murmured before slipping into his room and closing his door.
"I expected as much!" Suzanna called through his door. He heard her laugh as she walked away.
That night was a restless one for him. Though he tried to sleep, he found himself unable to ease the tension that had formed in him. He tossed and turned restlessly until at last he gave up and sat by the fire in his room.
When the light of morning finally arrived, Tristan was already awake.
~
Rose woke up with a start. Immediately the memories of the previous night flooded her thoughts. She sighed and dropped her head back onto her mattress. All she wanted to was stay laying there and completely avoid the Prince for as long as she could. How could she face him now?
Rose dressed and had a quick breakfast before running up to Suzanna's chambers. She knocked lightly on the door and entered the room. Suzanna was still in bed but she was awake.
"Good morning, Suzanna," Rose murmured as she entered the room. She pulled open the curtains, allowing the sun to stream in, and went to light the fire.
"Good morning," Suzanna finally answered, yawning as she did so. "How was the festival?"
"It was..." Rose paused to think of a word that could describe the night. "Enchanting," she finally said. Rose brought out a dress for Suzanna to wear, it was a deep green colour with cream embroidery.
"I saw Tristan last night," Suzanna said as she finally left the comfort of her bed. Rose said nothing and did her best to keep her breathing calm and steady. "He said he saw you, though you might not have seen him because he was disguised," Suzanna continued. Rose did not reply; she did not know how Suzanna would react if she admitted she had danced more than once with the Prince. She helped Suzanna into the dress and began lacing up the back. "He said you looked breathtaking." Rose's heart immediately stammered and her breathing hitched. Why had he said such a thing to his sister? More than that, why was Suzanna telling her? Suzanna was waiting for Rose to reply.
"That was... very kind of him," she answered, noncommittally. Suzanna did not answer but instead began humming to herself.
Rose dressed Suzanna's hair and stoked the fire in the room. Suzanna left, saying she wanted to have breakfast with her family, and left Rose to finish the work in the room. Rose made the bed and opened the windows to let the fresh air in. The fire crackled wildly in response to the wind. Rose then swept the floor and laid out a fresh jar of lavender to scent the room. When the room was in order she sat down on a stall by the fire and began mending one of Suzanna's dresses - the hem had become uneven.
Suzanna re-entered the room just as Rose was finished with her sewing. She hung the dress up in the closet then turned to her mistress.
"I am going riding. You are dismissed for the morning, but first help me dress in my riding gear." Rose did as she was asked and helped Suzanna into a dress more appropriate for riding. Suzanna bid farewell to Rose then left the room eagerly.
Rose, unsure of what to do with herself, meandered towards the kitchen. She missed spending time with Mistress Eudora and the other servants who had become her friends. When she arrived in the kitchen she discovered Mistress Eudora was tending to the King and was not to be disturbed. Rose pouted and prepared to leave when one of the servants called her over. A group of them were standing to the side in conversation. Rose approached them curiously, she knew the maidservants' but was not close with any of them.
"Rose, we were just talking about the festival," one girl, Katrina, said to her.
"We heard you danced the night away with a mysterious man," another girl, Tilda, commented haughtily.
"Who told you that?" Rose asked immediately.
"Anabelle, who else?" Magdalene said, rolling her eyes. Rose felt dismayed, had Anabelle been talking about her behind her back?
"I can't imagine why any man would dance with you when there are far more... suitable options," Tilda said with a sniff and a condescending glance at Rose. Anger flared up in her, how dare Tilda speak to her so rudely?
"Who was the man?" Katrina asked before Rose could reply to Tilda.
"Is he your lover?"
"Had you met him before?"
"Did you have to force him to dance with you?"
"What was his name?"
"Come on, tell us who he was."
"Did he think you were pretty?"
"Obviously not, Katrina, have you seen her?"
"Have you been having secret meetings with him?" The questions kept coming and coming, the nastier comments falling from Tilda. Rose blinked as they attacked her with their questions. She felt hurt and violated.
"Enough!" Rose finally barked, silencing the maidservants'. They hushed up immediately and looked at her with stubborn expressions. "Shame on you all for partaking in gossip. It was not Anabelle's right to talk about my night at the festival. Nor should any of you pry into my business. Tilda, how dare you speak to me in such an impolite manner. It is people like you who make my blood boil, you have been both disrespectful and rude to me. If I should ever reveal who the man I danced with was, it would certainly not be to people like you. And yes, Katrina, he did think I was pretty." With an angry huff, Rose turned away from the group of girls and stormed out the room.
She was annoyed and hurt. Rose understood that many of the servants' were jealous that she had been chosen to be Suzanna's new lady-in-waiting. However, it still hurt to know that they were all gossiping about her out of spite. They had no right to discuss Rose's relationships and pressure her for information.
Rose frowned. This was exactly why she could not be seen with Tristan. If people knew she had danced with the Prince the rumours would be a thousand times worse. She would be excluded and judged by all her peers. She could already imagine all the horrible things they would say about her.
Rose walked outside and spotted Anabelle scrubbing clothes clean in a container of scented soap water. Rose hesitated for a moment and then walked up to her friend. Anabelle looked up at the sound of footsteps and smiled when she saw Rose.
"Good morning," Anabelle said as she dropped the item of clothing she was holding back into the bucket.
"Morning," Rose answered, sitting down on a grass patch near her friend. She picked at the blades of grass miserably. Rose wanted to talk to Anabelle about what had happened, but she did not want to cause an argument with her friend.
"Are you well?" Anabelle asked as she turned back to her task of washing.
"Aye, it is just..." she paused and bit her lip. "Anabelle, why did you tell the other servants about the man I danced with last night?" Anabelle raised one thin eyebrow then pursed her lips.
"I did not realise I was not permitted to mention it. Are you angry with me?"
"No... but I would prefer it if other people did not know. Too many rumours spread far too quickly," Rose answered, averting her gaze. Anabelle released one short, burst of laughter.
"Rumours? Like what?"
"The other girls were pressuring me. They thought he was my secret lover. Tilda even asked me if I had forced him to dance with me."
"There is nothing to be ashamed of. I am certain there are plenty of girls with secret loves."
"He is not my lover, you know that," Rose said harshly. Anabelle stared at her defiantly.
"Do I know that? You should not be so harsh on the other girls; they were just curious."
"Yes, but curious about nothing that concerns them! It was not your right to talk to them about my evening."
"Are we truly having this conversation, Rose? You are overreacting. Perhaps there is more to this mysterious man than you are claiming," Anabelle commented, placing her hands on her hips.
"How could you say that?"
"Why else would you be getting so upset over something so small?" Her expression was stubborn and unrelenting.
"It is not something small! You were talking about me behind my back!"
"We are servants, Rose. Something has to keep us entertained, you know that we all like to talk about any interesting news. You were the interesting news; I will not apologise for discussing your mystery man."
"It was not your business."
"If that is really what you think," Anabelle stated, refusing to say more.
"Anabelle!" Rose cried out, frustrated.
"I did not do anything wrong!"
"Friends do not talk about each other when the other is not around."
"If we were truly friends then you would not have withheld the truth from me. You would not even tell me his name," she said with a hurt expression.
"Because you did not need to know! There is nothing you need to know! I did not ask about the men you danced with."
"I refuse to have this argument with you. You are being ludicrous."
"Do not tell anyone else about the man at the festival," Rose said fiercely.
"My lips are silenced," Anabelle responded dryly. The two girls glared at each other for a moment, then Rose stood up. She wanted to say harsh words and prove that Anabelle was in the wrong, but instead she turned away. It would not solve anything adding fuel to a burning fire. She walked away without another word and left her friend to her chores.
Rose went back to the castle and waited for Suzanna to return. The rest of the day was spent working and assisting Suzanna. They talked about the festival, Suzanna was very curious, but Rose made no mention of dancing with the Prince. Instead she entertained Suzanna with a description of the performances she had seen and the food she had tasted. When the late afternoon arrived, Suzanna dismissed Rose until she was called to help prepare Suzanna for bed.
Rose meandered through the halls for some time. They were mostly empty apart from the few servants dusting or polishing. Rose did not talk to the servants and they did not talk to her, but she noticed some stopped their work to look at her. She scolded herself for being silly - they were probably not truly looking at her. But deep down, Rose could not shake the feeling that all the servants were judging her. Rose felt alienated after her conversation with the maidservants that morning.
Suddenly desperate to escape the castle, Rose nearly ran outside. The castle courtyard was full of people of all sorts, but none paid attention to her. Out here, no one thought she was the scandalous servant girl with a secret lover. No one knew her, and she was able to dissolve into the crowd. She wandered aimlessly among all the people until she grew tired of the noise. Instead, she decided to visit the castle gardens again.
The gardens were more beautiful than she had remembered, it seemed that they had only grown more glorious. Rose walked down the path in delight. Again, there were not many people who were in the gardens. She breathed in deeply as she felt her growing tension slip away from her mind. The aromas of flowers, wind, sun, and grass swirled around her.
The sun warmed her back as she walked through the gardens. Pleasant tingles seemed to thrive all along her skin wherever the warmth touched her. In the distance, past the gardens, she could hear the sounds of children laughing and horses whinnying. She delved further into the garden, walking away from the noises until they were nothing but a dull hum in the distance.
Soon the only noises she could hear were the happy chippering from the birds and the rhythmic snipping noises from a gardener nearby. Rose sat down on a bench underneath a tree and watched the clouds as they drifted along the horizon. She amused herself by finding pictures in the clouds but soon grew tired of her game.
In an impromptu moment, Rose wondered if she could find the secret garden that Tristan had shown her. She stood up eagerly and tried to remember how to find the entrance. Rose left the path and walked in the direction she thought the garden was.
Minutes passed by of aimless stumbling and confusion. She was about to give up when she heard the distant sound of trickling water. Is that the fountain? She walked towards the noise until she came to what seemed to be a dead end of hedges and rose bushes. I am sure the garden is near here, somewhere... Rose turned in a full circle until she recognized a row of hedges. There! She walked towards them and rounded the corner. She immediately found herself standing in the entrance of the secret garden. The sun was streaming into the garden, giving it a delightful golden glow.
Rose walked in but froze when she realized someone was there. They were on the garden chair, swinging backwards and forwards methodically. Rose anxiously tried to walk backwards and leave the garden before she was noticed. This was the last place she should be; with the very last person she should be with. She took another step backwards when the person turned their head in her direction. Rose froze again as her heart dropped to her stomach.
It was Prince Tristan.