Two weeks passed by. Prince Tristan did not have any more contact with Rose, and the two were as they should be – lord and servant. Rose was healthier than she had ever been, Mistress Eudora was careful to always make sure she was eating enough. As the days went by Rose found that she did not mind, so much, working in the castle. The servants were all friendly and welcoming. Anabelle and Rose became close friends in a short time. Mistress Eudora had them working together often and they bonded within days.

They walked into the kitchen together, one morning, to find Mistress Eudora baking. As the head servant she was not required to do much labour, but she had told Rose once that baking was one of her greatest joys. Anabelle and Rose exchanged smiles as they watched Mistress Eudora whistle whilst stirring, her back facing them.

"Good morning, Mistress!" They chimed. She jumped and turned to face them, her eyes wide with surprise. Rose held back a giggle despite wanting to laugh at her expression.

"Girls! You gave me the fright of my life," she told them, but not in an angry tone.

"Sorry, ma'am," Anabelle told her, ducking her head slightly.

"Oh, never you mind," Mistress Eudora answered, chuckling. "Now... what shall I have you two doing?" A servant walked in at that moment with a pile of clean washing before heading back outside. "Ah, yes. I need you two to make sure the King's room is tidy and fresh. Here, you can change the sheets on his bed," she told them, handing them a basket of clean linen. They curtseyed and left the kitchen and started the journey to the King's bedchambers.

"Did you hear that poor Mable slipped over while mopping, right in front of Princess Suzanna?" Anabelle asked Rose as they walked, smiling.

"Oh no, how unfortunate! Poor Mable, she must have felt humiliated," Rose replied, thinking of the sweet, shy servant.

"I know, but that is not even the worst part!" Anabelle exclaimed, pausing for suspense.

"What happened? You must tell me!"

"Well, dear Princess Suzanna, kind girl that she is, rushed over to assist Mable. However, the floors were still wet and she too slipped over! This, of course, led to the servants in the room running to check on the Princess. But the floors were so wet and soapy that most of them slipped. There ended up a pile of them, all strewn across the floor giggling! No one was injured, fortunately." Rose joined in with Anabelle's laughter, trying to picture her description. The thought of a heap of bodies piled on the ground had Rose in a giggling fit.

"It must have been a terribly funny sight," Rose told Anabelle, still laughing. They entered the King's bedchambers and began to strip his bed of the sheets. They were chatting and giggling as they worked on their task when the doors swung open suddenly. Immediately they stopped talking and turned to face whoever was at the door. The King stood there and stared at them before entering the room. The girls dropped into curtseys immediately and bowed their heads.

"Get out!" He barked, storming towards his bed. His voice was hoarse and his breath sounded raspy. He had not been faring particularly well in the last few days.

"But, Your Highness, your bed is-" Anabelle began.

"I said get out! Now," he told her, silencing her with a glare. They both curtseyed again and left the room in a rush. Rose closed the door, heart pounding, and together they walked down the hallway. Anabelle looked frightened with wide, alarmed eyes.

"Do not worry, Anabelle, he was probably just feeling tired," Rose said, trying to comfort her.

"I know, it was only a bit intimidating. The King rarely raises his voice towards his servants –certainly he has never shouted at me," she answered.

"Here," Rose replied, taking the linen basket out from her hands. "Why don't you go and get a breath of fresh air. I can take these to Mistress Eudora." Anabelle smiled and thanked Rose, then turned to walk in the opposite direction. Rose continued through the hall but paused when she came to a window that overlooked the grassy, encircled area where the Knights trained.

She could see at least twenty men, all paired off. They were fencing, the ring of their swords and shouts of their voices could be heard from where Rose was standing. She stared a moment longer. She could see Prince Tristan fencing with another Knight. From where Rose was standing, the Prince almost looked as though he could be a noble, chivalrous person. Beth... Rose sighed and walked away. Prince Tristan was, and always would be, a spoiled, uncaring man who saw those beneath him as nothing but dust.

She walked downstairs only to bump right into Mistress Eudora.

"Oh! Ma'am, I am so sorry," Rose said, flustered.

"Rose, you finished quickly," Mistress Eudora commented, eyeing the basket in Rose's hands. Rose placed the basket down onto the ground and bowed her head a little.

"The King came in and told us to leave his chambers. We did not finish the task, I'm afraid, but he was adamant."

"Oh, I see. That is quite alright. I shall see to the task myself, the King never minds having me serve him. Here, this is for you." She handed Rose a small cloth bag. Rose heard the clinking noise of coins as the bag was passed over to her. She widened her eyes and stared at Mistress Eudora in shock. "You have earned an afternoon off. Go! Treat yourself, my dear," Mistress Eudora told her, grinning at her expression.

"Mistress Eudora, I cannot take this. I have not earned it."

"Of course you can! You have earned it, do not be silly. It has been a blessing to us all having such a lovely presence in our midst."

"But-"

"It is mine to give, Rose. Take it and enjoy your afternoon." She picked up the linen basket from the ground and turned away, heading up the stairs. Rose clutched the bag of coins tightly in her hand and turned around, flattered. She walked quickly to the servants' quarters, joyfully, eager to change and go out.

~

Tristan ignored the sounds of the ringing and shouting around him and tried to focus on the fight between Samuel and himself. Fencing was usually one of his favourite activities, but today he was struggling to concentrate. His mind kept drifting to Rose, the servant girl, and the story she had told him. He had tried, over the weeks, to forget about Rose and her friend Beth. He had tried to tell himself that he did not care or need to feel ashamed about the girl who had died.

But her words haunted him, over and over again they rang in his ears. "She begged you... a King and his family are meant to watch over their subjects... she died." Her words never left his mind, no matter how hard he tried to block them out.

Rose... she was angry and clearly despised Tristan's existence. Whenever he was in her presence her face became a mask and her eyes turned hard. Even when serving him Tristan could tell she was doing her best to ignore him.

He should not care. He could not figure out why he cared. Perhaps it was because her presence reminded him of how he had failed as a chivalrous Prince; reminded him of how many people he had let down.

The sharp poke of Samuel's sword touching Tristan's chest brought him out of his thoughts. Samuel looked at Tristan, one eyebrow quirked up. His sword was resting gently against Tristan's chest, right over his heart, though it did not prick his skin. They stared at each other. Never had Samuel bested Tristan at fencing. Samuel removed his sword and placed it in his sheath. Tristan followed his actions and sheathed his own sword.

"I never thought I would see the day when I would catch Prince Tristan off his guard," Samuel said, clearly trying to hold back a grin. They turned and began walking away from the other men still fighting.

"Ach! Do not be too exultant, it will not happen again," Tristan warned.

"Is that so, Sire? With the way you have had your head in the clouds, I am not too sure about that." Tristan glared at Samuel half-heartedly and focused on walking. "You have not been yourself of late, my lord," Samuel pressed. "Is there something on your mind?" The Prince hesitated and was silent for a minute.

"It is Rose. I cannot get her out of my head," Tristan told him truthfully.

"The servant girl?" Samuel looked baffled, his eyebrows raised high.

"Yes. I have never met one who is so openly hateful towards me." Samuel chuckled to himself, a sudden, rumbling noise.

"Why does it matter to you? She is just a servant, do not take offence. I am sure there are plenty of servants who do not like you, Sire," he answered, cackling at his own words. Tristan rolled his eyes and continued walking.

"It is not that she dislikes me which troubles me. It is that she makes me wonder how many more there are who hold such fierce anger towards me. How many more have I let down and disappointed?"

"My lord, no one can be perfect. We all let others down occasionally."

"But I am the Prince. The future King. Is it not my duty to watch over the people under my reign and do my best to care for them?" Tristan kicked at a rock, frustrated.

"There are many a Kings', Prince Tristan, who gladly sit on their thrones simply dwelling in the presence of their wealth. They do not care for the details of their peoples' lives yet no one speaks against them," Samuel said, trying to comfort him. Tristan was not comforted.

"Yes, but when that King is in a time of need, when he needs help, which of his subjects would gladly assist him? None. For he has robbed them of their coin and has not cared for them."

"My lord, I do not understand what you are trying to say," Samuel finally answered. They had stopped walking now and were facing each other.

"I am saying I cannot be that type of King. I will not. I have to be a better person than what the Kingdom is expecting of me. The kind of King that God would have me be," Tristan said with determination. Samuel stared him down with a confused, somewhat amused expression.

"I do not understand where this change has come from, Sir. One moment you were indulging in the village women and could not care less about matters such as the poor, following God, or being a good man. Now suddenly you are changed, determined to be noble and virtuous. Why?"

"My mother is dead. My father is weary and sick. I am the heir to the throne."

"I know this," Samuel said, pressing him for more information when Tristan said nothing else.

"I started wondering what would happen once I became King. I would not be respected by my subjects if I continued to behave the way I was. Perhaps Rose is just a servant girl, but everything she has said to me has been true. I have done wrong and wronged many. It makes me want to try harder, Rose makes me want to try harder. Who knows? Perhaps my mother finally got her answer to prayer – I'm taking my position seriously now," Tristan explained. Samuel paused for a moment and then chuckled.

"And all because a girl refused to bow to you. I would never have believed it was possible. Of course, I am pleased to see the change in you – it is a good thing – but I am still surprised."

"It is not just her, though. I was restless and disappointed in myself before I knew her," Tristan tried to explain, holding back his own smile.

"At least you know that the day Miss Rose does not show anger towards you is the day that you can know you are well on your way to becoming a 'better person'," Samuel said, grinning. Tristan smiled at his words and tried to imagine Rose being happy towards him. It seemed impossible.

"I have never met anyone like her."

"You like her, Sire," Samuel said. It was not a question but a statement.

"Nay. She is and will only ever be my servant - and a loathing, angry one at that," Tristan responded immediately. "She is merely the reminder that I must try harder." Samuel was quiet for a moment then spoke again.

"What is it you plan to do now?"

"I believe I am due for a visit to the town." Samuel looked astonished and exasperated at the Prince's words.

"No, Tristan, you cannot. You just said you wanted to be a better person and change your ways!" Tristan realised what Samuel was getting at immediately – he thought Tristan was going for one of his usual visits.

"No, I am not going for that reason. I shall not ever go back for that reason, you have my word. I will be disguised and I will walk. I wish to see for myself what condition the town is truly in." Samuel was surprised but did not disagree with Tristan. The Prince left the training field and walked hastily to his bedchambers.

He changed into commoners clothing, roughed up his hair, and prepared to leave, unnoticed. As he was walking he noticed the servant girl, Rose, walking out the castle gates. She was dressed differently than usual, though, in a plain maroon dress rather than her servant's gown. Despite the ordinariness of the dress, she appeared so much more poised and elegant. Tristan's heart stammered in his chest.

She was walking towards the direction of the village unaccompanied. Curious, but also wanting to make sure she was safe, Tristan followed her discreetly. He ignored the thoughts in his head asking him why it mattered, why she mattered, and trailed her – unrecognized by anyone.

~

Rose walked towards the village almost joyfully. The sun was shining, though the air was still cold, and it was beautifully refreshing. This was the first time she had been back to the village since she was a beggar. The castle had its own small church reserved for the tenants and servants of the castle grounds, so Rose had not needed to return to town. She reached the heart of the village nervously but quickly relaxed. The streets that once felt so dangerous were suddenly a joy to be in. The hustle and bustle of all the people, the cries of the market sellers, the loud chatter of voices – it brought a joy to her.

As she walked she smiled, for people no longer treated her like a disgraceful beggar. Women and gentlemen alike smiled at her and would wish her a good day. She no longer had to squeeze through the crowds, for people made way for her willingly enough.

Rose walked up to a market stall where a woman was selling freshly baked bread. She bought a loaf with some of the money Mistress Eudora had given her and continued on her way. Her chest bubbled with joy at being able to buy her own food in the place where she had always needed to beg. Rose walked down the street and turned a corner. This street was less busy, but there were still plenty of people around. Rose walked straight over to a wall by an alley and looked around.

"Tilly?" She called, scanning the area. Rose frowned. Tilly was three. She and her mother were homeless, but her mother was rarely with Tilly - she could have passed as an orphan. Rose had grown very close to Tilly – she was always in this one spot begging. Rose scanned the area again. She could have moved, Rose supposed. She had visited Tilly every day when she was a beggar, sharing with her anything that she could offer. Rose loved her like she was a little sister, not a day had gone by where Rose had not thought of her while working in the castle. Today, no longer a beggar, Rose had brought this loaf of bread and the leftover money she had to give to Tilly. Rose turned in a full circle, trying to see her.

"She's gone, madam," a voice said. A little shoe-cleaner boy Rose recognized stood nearby and looked at her with round eyes.

"Gone where?" Rose asked him, hoping he could point her in the right direction. She could not and would not leave this town until she had checked on Tilly. "Where has she gone?" The boy looked at Rose for a long minute before speaking.

'"No... she's gone gone," he said hesitantly. "She passed on last week, ma'am. She was ill."

"She... what?" Rose asked cautiously, not daring to believe his words.

"She's dead, miss."

It was as if time froze and her heart stopped beating. Rose could hear the sounds of people around her, but she could not focus on anything. The bread roll she was holding dropped to the ground. Rose turned away and tried to process everything, but found she was unable to walk away.

Tilly. Little, sweet Tilly... dead. An emptiness filled her as her breathing became shallow. Tilly was gone. Rose would never see her again. Tears flooded into Rose's eyes. She was so small and scrawny, yet she was the happiest and sweetest girl Rose had ever known. Rose loved her... she loved her.

Rose could not stop the tears falling, and though passer-by's looked at her curiously she ignored them. She began walking away slowly in shock and grief, weak all of a sudden.

"Watch where you're going!" Someone shouted as they shoved past her, running after someone. Rose was knocked to the side and nearly lost her balance. She stood where she was, unable to bear walking any further. Her breath was coming out in little hiccups as she tried to imagine life without Tilly. 

"Rose..." a male voice murmured. She turned to her side and looked up through water-filled eyes. There was a man standing by her, concern etched on his face. But it was not a normal man, Rose realised, it was Prince Tristan – disguised. Anger filled her as she looked at him.

This was all his fault. Everything was his fault. If he had not taken Rose away she could have been with Tilly. She could have found help for her and stayed by her side. Tilly could still be alive. Or even if she had still died, at least Rose would have been with her. She must have been so scared, all alone with an absentee mother. Rose tried to shove away thoughts of little Tilly, all alone in the dark alley, sick and dying, needing help, and calling for Rose...What had her last moments been like? Had anyone stopped to help her? 

"Rose, are you okay?" The Prince broke through her thoughts. Rose sniffed and tried to swallow back more tears. Anger fuelled her and helped temporarily stop the grief.

"I do not wish to speak with you," she told him, trying to walk away.

"Rose, wait," he caught her arm but she jerked it away from him roughly.

"Don't talk to me!" She nearly shouted. More tears fell down her cheeks as she clutched at her hair desperately, overwhelmed and broken.

"I am sorry. I am. About Beth and whoever you went to see today," he told Rose, trying to reach for her shoulders. She stayed out of his reach. He looked genuine and compassionate but Rose glared at him.

"Why? You do not care about them. You do not care about anyone!" She started shouting.

"Rose, stop," the Prince said, trying to calm her down. She was reaching a point of hysteria. A buzzing rang in her ears as her chest became tight.

"Don't act like you care. Like you care about Beth or Tilly or anyone. You don't care, you never cared," she continued, sobbing. "You never cared..." He put both his hands on her shoulders, trying to help. All she could picture was Tilly's little face asking where Rose was as death approached her.

"Rose, it is going to be okay." His words were futile. Rose collapsed onto her knees – there, in the middle of the street – and wept. Sobs shook her body as she cried over the lost people she loved. Over Tilly, innocent and sweet. Over Beth, brave and joyful. Over her parents, snatched from her side. The brightest sparks in her life were forever extinguished; the people who were meant to be by her side had left her. They would never come back. She would never get to see any of them ever again. She would never hear Tilly's voice again. Rose heard Prince Tristan kneel down next to her, but she did not have the strength to push him away or run off.

"It should have been me... I wish it was me," she repeated over and over again as she cried for Tilly. The sobs were relentless, wracking her body until she was nearly choking on her tears. A warm hand eventually touched her shoulder. She shoved it away angrily and turned to him. "This is your fault!" She cried, pushing at him with her hand. "You should never have taken me, you never should have... should have..." she trailed off, unable to continue. Her hand fell uselessly to her side in a fist as the drops of her tears splashed on the ground. O God, take the pain... It hurts so badly. The Prince could have her arrested and left in the dungeons, or worse, for laying a hand on him. Her heart stuttered at the thought, but she shrugged it away. If she were to die, at least she would be with the only people who had ever cared for her. Death was not unwelcome.

"I'm sorry," the Prince said quietly. Rose refused to look at him though she could feel him staring at her. The tears were less now, but the pain in her heart was great. "I know what it is like to grieve."

"Ha. You know," she scoffed, unable to believe that he had ever felt the pain she had.

"Yes! I know!" He said firmly, louder. "I lost my mother and my sister not a week apart, you know that. Everyone knows it. I had to mourn under the gaze of the Kingdom and all who were in it, my every tear was watched. I did not get the blessing of privacy. Ask anyone and they could recount the mourning I experienced in detail. Do not doubt me, I have grieved before and felt pain." Rose finally turned her head to look at him. The compassion in his eyes stole her breath away. But no. She would not allow herself to trust him or ever forgive him.

"Beth could still be alive if it were not for you," Rose told him bleakly.

"Tell me you have never done something that you regretted later – that resulted in something bad," he looked tortured and remorseful. There was a change in him from the first day that Rose had met him, she could see it. Perhaps he was not the man that she had always believed him to be. She had never seen him mistreat someone with her own eyes. Her thoughts flickered to the countless women he had dismayed; the countless beggars he had ignored; the people who were in need that he had disregarded. At the thought, Rose forced away any kind feelings she had towards him. She hardened her heart again, for she could not believe that any change – if there was in fact a change – was true or would last.

"I never did something that resulted in the death of an innocent person."

Rose stood up and wiped her hands across her face, trying to remove any evidence of tears. She turned and walked away from Prince Tristan without so much as a backwards glance, heading back towards the castle.