The day of the town festival arrived and it seemed the whole palace was alive with the excitement of the event. The Princess had given Rose the entire day and night free of any work. Rose and Anabelle had agreed to go to town together just before dusk. As Rose did not have a family estate of her own, Anabelle invited Rose to her family home so that they could both get ready together.

Anabelle had a small family - a mother, father, and one younger brother. The proper pleasantries were exchanged before Rose and her friend disappeared into Anabelle's room.

"I am so excited! We must hurry and reach the festival as soon as we can," Anabelle enthused.

"Of course, we shall not take long," Rose promised. Eagerly, Rose reached into the large basket Mistress Eudora had given her and pulled out Suzanna's dress. It was just as beautiful as she remembered. Anabelle's eyes widened to such an extent Rose felt a moment of concern.

"How beautiful your dress is," Anabelle breathed as she gazed at the golden material. Anabelle went to her closet and pulled out her own dress. It was a stunning, deep red with a golden, embroidered design forming a pattern.

"You shall be the most beautiful maiden there," Rose said to her friend kindly. Anabelle's eyes lit up and she beamed widely at Rose's words.

The girls helped each other dress. The moment Rose put her dress on she felt as though she was a princess in another land. The dress swished around her feet so pleasantly. It was a perfect fit. Anabelle twisted Rose's hair up into an elaborate bun, pinning the hair until it could not move. A few wisps of hair framed Rose's face and tickled her cheeks.

Rose, in turn, pinned Anabelle's chestnut curls into place so that they flowed down her back at different lengths. When the girls were ready they still had at least an hour before dusk. They decided to leave early as they were too excited.

The walk to the town was not far. As they drew near the sound of voices and music surrounded them. The village was full of people, all who were dressed in festive clothing. Rose looked around and noticed most people were wearing masks.

"Look!" Anabelle exclaimed, tugging on Rose's arm. "A man handing out masks. We must get some to wear." Rose agreed and together they hurried to the man. He was dressed in bright colours and his own mask was a fluorescent orange.

"Some masks for the fair maidens? No cost," the man said to Rose and Anabelle. The girls agreed enthusiastically. The man handed Anabelle a black mask with a red feather attached to it. To Rose he gave a simplistic, gold mask that framed her eyes.

"Thank you, sir," Rose said. She helped attach Anabelle's mask, then Anabelle did the same for Rose. She felt like a new person with her mask and dress. A fleeting thought had her smiling softly - even if the Prince did choose to attend the festival, he would have a difficult time finding her.

"Let us see the attractions!" Anabelle said, tugging Rose along by her wrist. Rose laughed and ran along with Anabelle willingly as they were swallowed by the crowd.

Rose giggled as she watched a mime pretend to struggle through various situations. She watched in amazement as a magician pulled out a bouquet of flowers seemingly from nowhere. She cheered as a bard performed a comedic song about becoming lost on a mountain.

On and on Anabelle and Rose explored, stopping to watch the various performances of travelling entertainers. Merchant's dressed in brightly coloured clothing had stalls full of beautiful trinkets and curious contraptions. There were even food stalls where different food from across the country could be sampled.

It was past dusk by the time Rose and Anabelle had finished exploring the town, but the night was still young. More and more people arrived in the town until the village was alive with the noises of excitement and joy. The atmosphere made Rose so happy that she could not stop smiling. The women wore the most stunning dresses - some even had feathers attached to the dress, or their dresses were a shimmering fabric that sparkled. She spotted one woman walking with a cape made of swan and peacock feathers.

Rose and Anabelle trekked into the centre of the town - Anabelle had heard there would be dancing there and she hoped to join in. The centre of the town was a fairly wide-open area - usually where the market stalls were set up. Against one side of the area stood a group of musicians who had travelled across the country performing. They were in the middle of a song when Rose and Anabelle arrived. Men and women danced, clapping and shouting at different intervals.

"Isn't this exciting?" Anabelle shouted over the music.

"Yes it is," Rose agreed, shouting back. Anabelle looked around through the crowd anxiously.

"I should very much like to dance."

"Perhaps a gentleman will approach you." The girls stood together and watched as the dance continued. As the music resounded around them, a tall man approached the girls. He bowed to them and the girls curtsied in response.

"Kind maiden, would you like to dance?" He asked Anabelle. Anabelle beamed but turned to look at Rose, concerned. Rose nodded her support.

"Go! I will be fine," she assured her friend. Anabelle eagerly took the arm of the man and together they walked away to wait for the next dance. Rose stood alone by a building, suddenly self-conscious. To distract herself she admired the lanterns that had been strung all throughout the town, they provided a beautifully pleasant glow.

"Fair maiden," a deep voice suddenly said from behind her. Rose jumped and turned around to see a man bowing before her. "May I have this next dance?" He stood up and Rose felt her mouth drop.

"Tristan?" She asked, dumbfounded. A ripple of laughter escaped her as she observed him. He was disguised, wearing clothes that more resembled a commoner than a Prince. He wore a deep blue mask that shone in the light of the lanterns. On his head he wore the most ridiculous hat that Rose had seen. He had obviously bought it from a festival stall. It was black, but from it sprung blue and white feathers that stood out at odd angles. Rose giggled again as she observed his attire.

"How did you recognize me?" He asked, frowning deeply. How indeed? The Prince stood in the middle of the town festival, yet no one recognized him or tried to approach him. In truth, she knew she recognized him because of his stature - but she would not dare say that to him. "I am well disguised, am I not?"

"You undoubtedly are," Rose agreed, smiling up at him. The Prince held out his arm towards her.

"About that dance... May I?" He asked, his warm eyes twinkling with amusement. Rose laughed again and placed her hand on his arm.

"You may." Her heart fluttered nervously at the thought of dancing with the Prince. But he was not just the Prince - he was Tristan, her friend. A new dance was about to begin, so the two hurried quickly to the other couples lined up. They stood facing each other and waited for the music to begin.

"That dress is beautiful on you," Tristan said honestly as he looked her up and down.

"Thank you. How did you find me?" The Prince laughed as if there were some obvious answer she had missed. The music was beginning. It was a slower and less lively tune than what had just been played. Rose knew the dance well; it was a commoners' dance. Tristan took Rose's hands and they stepped towards each other, moving in a circle. His hands were warm and smooth, much larger than hers - they seemed to swallow her own fingers.

"I would recognize those eyes, that voice, anywhere," Tristan finally answered, murmuring the words quietly to her. Rose averted her eyes, blushing furiously. What did he mean by his words? They stepped apart from each other and turned in a circle before facing one another again. They stepped to one side of the other person, and then the other side, brushing shoulders as they did so. Rose could not figure out how she should answer him, so she remained quiet. When she mustered up the courage to look at him again, Tristan was staring right at her. She kept her gaze locked on his as they continued to dance.

As the dance went on she became less aware of the people dancing and talking around her. No one knew he was the Prince, and no one knew she was a mere servant. They could be seen together without creating suspicion or gossip. The longer she danced with him the more she felt humbled. He could have his pick of the women to dance with, but he had chosen her.

The dance ended and Rose took a hasty step away from the Prince. She did not like the way her heart was fluttering, nor the way she longed to dance with him again. It was wrong, all wrong. She would be in trouble for ever looking at Tristan as anything other than the Prince - in trouble for ever agreeing to call him her friend. But, oh, how she ached to speak with him more, to know him more. When she looked up at Tristian his eyes were yearning and soulful. It made Rose wonder if his thoughts were not too far away from her own.

The crowd was loud as some couples left and other joined the clearing to dance. Would he want to dance with her once more? Tristan cleared his throat and Rose looked up at him.

"Dance with me again?" He asked her. Rose nodded shyly as he took her hand. The musicians began the next song - it was slow, yet again, but a song that would build. The dancers formed a large circle, the men and women facing their partners. Tristan pulled her towards him and they began dancing, turning and moving with the circle. She gathered the courage to look at the Prince again. He was smiling down at her, never moving his gaze away from her. Rose grinned back up at him. Despite the crowded nature of the dance, she felt as if it was just she and the Prince dancing together. She could not remember another time when she'd had so much fun.

The tune grew faster and faster over time, until they were nearly skipping to keep up with everyone. The musicians showed no mercy and played quicker and quicker until the music seemed to blur into one constant noise. The dancers were stumbling as they tried to match the beat. Soon laughter broke out among the crowd and the dancers. Rose was soon giggling along with them, her laughter only growing louder when she accidentally stepped on Tristan's foot in her hurry. She looked at him and could see he was doing his best to remain composed. The song ended with a flurry, the dancers came to an awkward stop, most bumping into other people, all laughing loudly. Tristan finally joined in with a hearty chuckle and Rose laughed with him. She was panting after the long dance and hoped they could have a moment's break. Tristan stepped away from the crowded dancers and gestured for Rose to follow. She weaved her way through the crowd until they came to a stop in a clearer patch.

"I want to show you something," the Prince said, holding out his arm for her to take. Rose frowned and looked over her shoulder, back towards the dancers. She scanned the crowd until she found Anabelle. She was still with the man who had asked her to dance, they were waiting to dance again. Anabelle would probably be okay for a little while without Rose. She turned back to Tristan and held on to his arm as he led her away. She felt worried. They were not courting, but it was probably still improper to walk together unchaperoned. Rose looked at Tristan and her concern dissolve - how could she say no to walking with this man?

"Where are we going?" She asked him curiously. Tristan grinned down at her.

"You must be patient and find out! Are you enjoying the festival?" He asked her changing the topic.

"Yes, very much. Are you?"

"More than I thought I would. The company has been excellent and a pleasure," he responded, winking at her. Rose felt her heart stammer and she looked down at the ground.

"You should not say things like that," she murmured. She should not have even danced once with the Prince, but in her heart she knew she could not have said no.

"I am merely speaking the truth. Come, this way." He led her through the busiest part of the town until they reached the outskirts of the village. There were less buildings and less people. They walked until Tristan stopped by a large, empty patch of terrain in between two buildings. Rose looked around curiously, there was nothing particularly interesting in front of them. Why had he taken her here?

"What did you want to show me?" She asked him. Tristan turned to her and looked at her with a serious expression.

"I know how worried you have been about the people you left on the streets. I had not realised how serious the condition of the town was until I saw you looking for your friend, Tilly," Tristan began. Rose cleared her throat as she tried to force away the sudden bout of sadness. He did not continue but looked at her with such compassion that she felt her heart stop.

"Yes?" She pressed, waiting for him to continue.

"I want to help people like Tilly. The beggars and the orphans. However, the castle does not have the means to employ every beggar that we have, my father would not allow it." Rose's hopes fell just as fast as they had risen.

"So you cannot help them?"

"Do you see this empty terrain here?" Tristan asked her, gesturing in front of them. Rose nodded and looked at him, confused.

"What about it?"

"I have hired builders. We are going to construct a home - a large home. It will be a house for the homeless, for all the beggars and the orphans, so that they can be safe. They can sleep here where it is warm and the wind cannot touch them. We shall hire a cook to help feed them, and teachers to train them and give them skills so they can find work. My father has agreed to the plan and will support the funding of the place, but we will also rely on the generosity of the townsfolk. By the grace of God, this home will stand for many years to come." Rose's hand flew to her mouth at his words. Can it be true? A home, a safe haven for people who were just like her. A place where they could turn their lives around. Tilly would have been overjoyed.

"Truly?" She whispered as she looked at the Prince, her hands still to her mouth.

"Truly," Tristan confirmed with a gentle smile. "You were right, Rose. As royalty we have not cared for those beneath us, but I vow that I will work to make that change. I will spend every moment of the rest of my life trying to be a better man, trying to be someone who the people can love and respect. All people - not just those with money." Rose could not reply; tears began to prick at her eyes. "Does this make you happy?" Tristan finally asked, looking vulnerable. Rose nodded immediately and choked back a sob as she gazed at the place where the home would be built.

She looked back at Tristan and could not help herself. Without thinking she reached up and wrapped her arms around him. Her heart pounded - it was wrong, so wrong to dare to hug him, but at that moment all she wanted - and all her heart wanted - was to embrace him. Tristan seemed shocked, at first he did not respond. Within seconds he raised his arms and wrapped them around her waist. The tears finally escaped Rose as they embraced - tears of joy, relief, and gratitude.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," she whispered as she held on to him tightly.

"You are welcome," he murmured into her ear.

"You are a good man... good man," Rose mumbled through her tears. Tristan did not answer, but he held her tightly. Rose finally pulled back and Tristan released her, though he looked as reluctant to end the hug as she felt. She inhaled deeply, trying to clear her head. What were they doing? She should not have hugged him; would he think her inappropriate?

"This never would have happened if I had not met you - you showed me a part of the world that I had been blind to. You have had as much of a part in the creation of this house as I do." Tristan smiled and held out his arm for her to take again, he did not say anything about the embrace. She held on to his arm willingly and walked with him as the last of her tears finally cleared. The best surprise I ever could have asked for, God.

Tristan led her up a small, grassy hill that was near them. They paused at the very top and Rose gasped in delight as she observed the view. The full moon was in plain sight, thousands of stars created a pale glow in the sky. The woods framed the bottom of the view and a small stream ran across the terrain. It was beautiful - magical.

"How beautiful it is," Rose said as she untied her mask. It was beginning to itch her face. She pulled her mask off and inhaled deeply as the breeze caressed her face. Up here at night with no-one around she felt refreshed.

"Aye, beautiful," Tristan agreed quietly, although he was staring at her and not the view. Rose smiled at him, suddenly shy, and returned her gaze back to the moon. The sounds of the festival could be heard in the heart of the town, and with a start Rose realised she had been gone for quite some time.

"Oh!" She exclaimed. Poor Anabelle was probably looking for her.

"What is wrong?" Tristan asked curiously.

"I left my friend in town, she must be looking for me by now. I did not realise I would be away for so long." Tristan nodded and gestured for her to lead the way.

"Let us go, then," Tristan said. Rose hesitated. Anabelle would be looking for her, but Rose did not want to leave the beautiful view and her time with Tristan. When this evening was over would she ever again get to be seen with Tristan so freely? Would he ever be able to approach her the way he had tonight? She knew the answer but she did not want to admit it to herself. Rose eventually tied her mask back onto her face. She began walking, but slowly. Tristan matched her pace, not appearing to be in a rush to leave either.

"I am glad you found me, Tristan. I have had a wonderful evening," Rose said honestly, breaking the silence between them. She smiled, but she was sad at the thought that she and Tristan would never be able to dance together again. Tristan stopped walking and Rose turned around to face him.

"I had a wonderful evening, too." He looked like he wanted to say more, but he clamped his mouth shut and continued walking. They ambled back to the centre of the town in a comfortable silence. The musicians could still be heard playing for the dancers. When they reached the clearing, Rose looked around for her friend. She finally spotted Anabelle dancing with a different man. Her friend was smiling broadly and talking to her partner as they moved.

"Oh, she is still dancing," Rose said, surprised that Anabelle had not stopped yet to look for her. She turned to look at Tristan and felt her heart flutter at his sudden intense, yearning gaze.

"Will she look for you soon?" He asked her. Rose looked back at Anabelle.

"She does not look to be in a hurry to leave."

"Then dance with me again, please," Tristan said, almost pleading with her. His eyes seemed so desperate and hopeful as he watched Rose. "I cannot bear to leave without one last dance with you," he told her. Rose's heart was thudding in her chest so forcefully she briefly wondered if Tristan could see it pounding. "Will you?"

"Y-yes," Rose stammered, her stomach suddenly full of butterflies from his intensity. Tristan did not respond but his eyes were glimmering with a strong emotion she could not identify. The current dance ended and Tristan led Rose to the line of dancers.

They faced each other, never breaking their eye contact. What was he thinking? More than anything she wished he would tell her. He did not speak but continued to simply watch her through masked eyes. The music began playing, it was a slow rhythm that Rose had not heard before.

"I do not know this dance," Rose said nervously as some more couples merged with the dancers. She would look silly stumbling about trying to dance. Tristan took her hands gently and pulled Rose towards him, closer than she was prepared. His breath tickled her face. Her head told her to put space between them while her heart told her to stay. When she looked around she realised most of the couples were standing just as close to one another, so she relaxed.

"I know it, I shall lead you - just follow me," Tristan murmured as he began moving. He placed her left hand on to his shoulder and dropped his right hand to her back. He held on to her spare hand with his own. They began twirling and Rose felt as though she was in a dream as they glided across the floor. She laughed and looked up at Tristan who was smiling.

"What is this?" She asked him, unfamiliar with the dance.

"It is a walzer - a waltz, as some call it." She did not respond to him as she was too distracted by how near she was to him. She was so close to him she could see a scar etched above his right eyebrow. Tristan never broke his eye contact with her, not even when she stumbled or made a mistake. The more they danced the more her heart began to pound and her breath began to grow shallow. He was so handsome, so very gentle and able to steal her breath away with one look. But... he was the Prince. She was a servant. She closed her eyes briefly. She could not - must not - feel this way towards him.

The dance ended but Tristan still held her close for a moment. They looked at each other, neither one speaking. Tristan was breathing imperceptibly as he stared at her, akin to her own shallow breaths. The other dancers were beginning to change partners and prepare for the next song, but still Rose and Tristan did not move from their dance position.

"Rose," he whispered, so softly she barely caught his words. Her heart erupted into rapid, uneven pounding. He was still holding her right hand from the walzer. Tristan lowered her hand and pulled it towards him, still gazing at her. So quickly that she was sure no one could have seen, he kissed her knuckles. Rose's breath stopped entirely. She closed her eyes. What was she doing? She should push him away or scold him or run from him. She had to stop their friendship turning into anything else, for the Prince could never be with her. She would end up with a broken heart if she did not guard her emotions. She opened her eyes again.

"I," she began, not sure what she was going to say. She glanced over Tristan's shoulder briefly, only to see Anabelle waiting for her by a building. Her friend caught her eye and waved but made no move to interrupt them. "I must go," Rose finally finished, hurriedly and nervously as she avoided eye contact with Tristan. She dropped her hand from his shoulder and slipped her other hand out from his grasp.

"Wait, Rose, I-" Tristan began but Rose shook her head and walked backwards, away from him.

"I cannot talk right now," she said before she turned away from him. She ran up to Anabelle. They began walking away as they were ready to leave the festival. Rose did not look back over her shoulder, for she knew if she was to see Tristan standing in the same spot her heart would ache and beg her to turn back. How could he have kissed her hand like that? It was foolish - foolish of them both to spend so much time together this evening. The festival and their masks had lured them into a sense of ease and boldness, it had put a spell over them. Never again, I shall never spend so much time alone with the Prince. Already she had allowed herself to grow too close to him, even as just friends. For one day the Prince would be married to a Lady, and Rose would not be allowed to be alone with him or speak privately to him ever again. How could I have been so foolish?

"Who was that man you were with?" Anabelle asked Rose as they walked. Rose sighed quietly, relieved that at least Anabelle had not recognized the Prince. Anabelle nudged her, waiting for Rose to answer.

"Just a friend of mine," Rose finally murmured, keeping her gaze on the floor.

"Truly? I am surprised, you seemed so much more than just friends," Anabelle responded with genuine surprise. Rose's gaze shot up to meet her friend's eyes.

"You must not say that. He is only a friend," Rose answered her firmly. Anabelle's eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Of course, whatever you say, Rose," Anabelle said, though she looked a little frustrated. Rose remained quiet for the rest of the evening. She spoke only when spoken to. As she went to bed she gazed at the once beautiful rose Tristan had picked her, now withered and browning. She closed her eyes, telling herself not to dream of the wonderful night she'd had. But, oh, how she wanted to dream and remember. She wanted to remember every second - every look he gave her and every word he spoke to her.

With her heart in turmoil, Rose drifted off to sleep as the memories of the festival drifted through her thoughts.