This chapter was an absolute nightmare to write. It was incredibly hard to make it sound like it was flowing well.
This may call for some serious editing and reconstructing in the future, but right now this is what you get :P
Hope you enjoy!
~~~

The Prince stood up immediately, a shocked and pleading expression on his face. Rose wanted to leave, but his gaze held her there and she found she was unable to move. He kept a safe distance between them, as if he were afraid to draw too near. Dark bags lined his eyes. He looked as though he had not slept, but that was impossible. Surely he had not been awake all night.

They exchanged intense gazes. There was tension between them, yet mingled with longing, hopelessness, friendship, and respect. Tristan took one hesitant, small step towards her and immediately Rose felt like fleeing. How her heart would break if she grew too close to him only to have him taken from her. I must go. She stumbled and turned around to leave the secret garden.

"Wait! Don't go, please," Tristan's voice pleaded. Two sides of her heart pulled at her, threatening to break her in two. One half urging Rose to protect herself, the other begging her to stay with the Prince. "I am sorry; I did not mean to frighten you last night. My actions were careless, do not let my behaviour scar our friendship."

"I was not frightened," Rose answered, staring at a hedge. She refused to turn around and face him. Sadness engulfed her. Did he regret dancing with her and kissing her hand? The thought was both a blessing and a curse.

"Then why did you run from me?" He asked her. She could hear his voice was laden with confusion and hurt.

"I ran because... because I am afraid," Rose murmured, fighting back tears.

"But you just said you were no-" Rose turned around and immediately Tristan stopped speaking.

"I am not afraid of you or your actions, my lord. But I am afraid of what they will lead to." Rose moved her gaze to stare at the grass. She could hear the sound of the Prince's footsteps shuffling towards her.

"So many cryptic answers," he murmured. Rose looked up at him. He was standing near, a thousand emotions seemed tangled on his face.

"I am sorry."

"You are right to be afraid," the Prince said, ignoring her comment. "I am the Prince; you are my sister's servant." Rose's heart plummeted at his words. They were true and what she had been telling herself all along, but to hear Tristan confirm them seemed to bring a harsh finality.

"I should go."

"No! Please," he cried out, reaching for her arm. He stopped before he touched her and dropped his arm back to his side.

"What are we doing, Tristan?" Rose asked as tears began to form in her eyes. "You saved me from the streets and from the wolf. You called me your friend and danced with me last night until you were unable to let me go. But I am a servant and to ever agree to your friendship was wrong of me. But then you kissed my hand and... and... you leave me with so many questions and so much confusion."

"I know," he murmured gently. He raised one hand to his face and held ran it through his hair, as though he could wipe away the stress and confusion they both felt. "I feel the same way. I know I should stay away from you; it would be my greatest shame if your reputation was hurt because of me. I tell myself that I should stay away only to discover that I can't. I can't stay away from you, Rose." Rose shook her head at his words. They could not and must not be true.

"I must go." She turned and ran as fast as she could, the secret garden was behind her in seconds.

"Rose!" Her heart sped up as she heard him call her. He was following her. No, no, no. Tristan, stronger and taller than she, caught up to her easily. His hand was suddenly on her arm, pulling her until she was drawn to a halt.

"No!" She cried as she was stopped.

"Rose," Tristan began gently.

"Leave me... leave me alone," she begged as she looked away from him. Tristan's grasp on her arm slowly lessened until it dropped away.

"If you truly do not want to talk with me, then go. I will not coerce you into staying." She could hear the hurt and longing in his voice. Rose turned her face until she could meet his eyes, her heart thundered in her chest.

"I want to stay," she whispered, "that is why I am afraid, that is why I must go." Tristan did not reply, he merely kept a blank expression that refused to reveal his thoughts.

"Why do you fight against yourself so much? You never seem to do what you truly want to."

"Am I wrong to fight against myself in this instance?" They were interrupted when a village couple strolled past them. They had not noticed that the man near them was the Prince, but nonetheless Rose was flooded with fear. The couple walked until they were far out of earshot.

"Come, let us return to the garden. We can talk there without being disturbed." Rose nodded brusquely and strode away from him in the direction of the garden. Tristan followed silently behind her. Rose entered the garden and walked up to the fountain. She breathed in and out deeply as she watched the rushing water. Within seconds Tristan was by her side.

"Tell me the truth, Tristan," Rose began, without looking up from the fountain. "What would your father, the King, say if he knew of your friendship with me?" She looked up at Tristan. He turned his head to observe the water, hesitant to answer. "Tell me," she insisted.

"He would not be pleased."

"Then why do you persist with our friendship? Why did you dance with me? Why do you talk with me? It is foolishness to risk your relationship with your family for me," Rose said, though her words hurt her. Why did it have to matter whether she was a servant or not? What made a servant so unworthy to be seen with the Prince? Just because they were of different social standards did not mean she was lesser of a person than he. Her heart throbbed as she looked at him.

"Because..." Tristan slowly raised one hand up to her face. She did not withdraw, though her brain was screaming at her to leave before it became too late; before she lost her heart. He brought his knuckles closer to her cheek, never breaking eye contact, but Rose froze before he touched her.

"Don't," she begged, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, Tristan was staring right at her. He seemed sad, but then he smiled softly as he dropped his hand.

"Rose, out of all the people I have known, you are the most worthy to be nobility. You were not born into the life of a noble, but each time I look at you I cannot help but think that you should have been. You are kind, thoughtful, generous, brave, humble, and forgiving," he began, quietly. Rose felt tears prick her eyes at his kind words. "It is not foolishness, to me, to risk my relationship with my father for you. If he knew you, he would understand. I would fight my father for your friendship." Tears did come then, drop after drop as futility surrounded her.

"And what about when everyone else finds out? Already I am pressured to reveal who the man I danced with was. We would both be scorned," she said through her tears.

"I do not care about what everyone else says. You are more to me than just my friend, just my servant. I will not lose you. I would fight them too." His brown eyes, so beautiful and hopeful, only brought more pain to her as she cried.

"You cannot fight everyone."

"I say I can," he insisted.

"Would you fight the world to be seen with me?" She asked through her gentle sobs. Tristan took a few steps towards her until they were standing close. He raised his hands and placed them lightly on her shoulders.

"If that is what it took, I would fight the universe for you," he murmured. His eyes revealed only pure truth, there was no shame in them. "Do not cry. All will be well, you will see," he said as he wiped away one tear from her cheek.

"I do not see how."

"Just trust me," he said with a soft smile.

"I do," Rose answered.

"Good." He squeezed her shoulders gently, the only reassurance he could offer. Rose watched him. Everything about him was regal - from the way that he held his head, to the way he spoke.

"You are the noblest man I have ever known," Rose whispered unexpectedly as she studied him. He was so handsome that her breath was stolen away by one look at him. But more than that, he was so wonderful inside that she feared her heart would be stolen away. The sun was setting and it cast a blue shadow over the garden. On her own she would have been afraid, but with Tristan she had never felt safer. He was smiling softly at her, his own expression reflecting contentment.

"Dance with me," he said as he dropped one of his hands to her back. Rose, suddenly nervous, dropped her eye contact and wiped away the last of her tears. When she looked back up, Tristan was holding his hand out expectantly. She smiled softly and placed her hand in his, then raised her other hand up to his shoulder.

And so the servant and the Prince danced, hidden in the shadow of the ever setting sun. There was no music, yet still they swayed together slowly. Tristan eventually began humming. His voice was deep and beautiful; she could have listened to it forever. They danced and danced until the sun had set and the stars began appearing. I'm dancing alone with the Prince, Rose mused to herself. There was a time when she would have scoffed at the idea, but now there was nowhere else she wanted to be.

"I am glad you did not have me executed when I refused to bow to you," Rose said as she thought over all they had been through together. Tristan laughed heartily, although Rose had said the words seriously.

"I am glad too," he responded. He stopped dancing and Rose, too, came to a halt. "My greatest sorrow would have been ending the life of one so beautiful." Tristan dropped his hands from her and bowed deeply, one hand on his heart and the other behind his back. Rose's breathing became shallow and she felt as though her head were in a cloud. Was the Prince, the future King, truly bowing to her? Unheard of, entirely unrealistic - yet there he stood, bowing to a servant. Tristan stood back up and beamed at her, one dimple appearing on the corner of his mouth.

"You honour me - more than I deserve," Rose told him, smiling in return. The Prince shrugged and his smile slowly faded.

"It is growing late. We have been away from the palace a long time; we should leave before gossip stirs up." He gestured for her to leave, but his gaze never strayed from her. Rose took a step towards the exit but stopped. She did not know when she would next get to talk to Tristan. The thought made her sad - it was not fair that their communication was a secret.

"Are you ashamed to be seen with me?" She asked him quietly.

"You know I am not."

She smiled. "That was all I wanted to hear." Rose stepped up to him threw her arms around his shoulders. Tristan responded immediately and hugged her tightly. Rose seized the moment and did her best to commit every detail to memory. He smelled like leather, mint, and lavender. He was warm and felt safe. The only sound he made was his steady, deep breathing. Tristan released her after a moment and pushed her gently towards the entrance of the secret garden.

"It truly is late; Suzanna will be looking for you soon. I will escort you back to the castle," he murmured. They walked back through the palace gardens together, the dark of the night had completely settled over the land. When they neared the castle they turned to face each other.

"We can go no further without being seen," Rose muttered.

"I know," he responded. They looked at each other but did not say more. Tristan reached for her forearm and squeezed it lightly. "I will see you soon," he promised. Rose looked up at him and tried to smile, though inside she felt sad.

"Okay," she agreed. Tristan dropped his hand from her forearm to her own hand. He held it gently.

"Sleep well," he whispered. He looked at her hand like he was contemplating kissing it again, but he merely released it instead. Rose nodded and slowly turned away from him. She walked to the castle, but not without looking back over her shoulder once. He was standing in the same place, his eyes never leaving her.

When Suzanna had been tended to, Rose walked downstairs and through the castle to the servants' quarters. Anabelle was laying in her bed, next to Rose's own mattress. Many of the maidservants were still awake and chatting loudly. They paid no attention to Rose as she entered the room and walked over to her bed.

Anabelle sat up when Rose drew near. Rose hesitated but continued to prepare herself for bed. Anabelle watched her the whole time with round, hopeful eyes. There was no malice in them. When Rose crawled onto her bed she finally turned to look Anabelle in the eyes.

"Rose," Anabelle began, "I am truly sorry for treating you so inconsiderately. I have wronged you and ask that you forgive me, for I could not bear it if our friendship was lost."

"I forgive you, Anabelle. There is no need to worry, I am not angry now," Rose answered, pulling the sheet covering her up to her chin.

"I suppose part of me was jealous that you were chosen to be Princess Suzanna's lady-in-waiting; and the other part of me was frustrated that you would not tell me who the man was," Anabelle continued, frowning up at the ceiling.

"Does it truly bother you that much?" Rose asked. She rolled onto her side so she could see Anabelle.

"Not so much, not anymore. You should not have to share information that you do not want to. I should not have told the other maidservants about the man at the festival, it was a spiteful thing to do," Anabelle said. Her eyes looked like they were filling up with tears, but Anabelle blinked them away until her eyes were clear once more.

"Thank you, Anabelle. As for being Suzanna's lady-in-waiting, I do understand how it would be easy to be jealous, but I really cannot help that I was chosen," she said, shrugging. "Princess Suzanna wanted me and I could not refuse her."

"I understand. It must be wonderful working for the Princess," Anabelle said, sighing dreamily.

"She is very kind."

"What do you do when she does not need you?" Anabelle asked her curiously.

"All sorts of things," Rose answered, shrugging again. "Today I went for a walk in the gardens."

"A little boring, was it not?"

"No... I found it refreshing."

"You know who I heard likes visiting the gardens?" One maidservant suddenly piped in. Had she been listening to their entire conversation? Rose frowned at the girl for the intrusion, but she did not comment on it.

"Who?" Anabelle asked the girl curiously.

"The Prince," the girl giggled. The maidservants around her turned to look at the girl and listen to the conversation. Some of the girls breathed out dreamy sighs at the mention of the Prince. The room seemed to fall silent as more and more of the servants joined in listening to the conversation.

"The Prince is so handsome," one girl sighed, clutching her chest.

"I could stare at his eyes all day," another commented.

"It is a shame his heart is so much uglier than his face," one maidservant grumbled. Some servants chorused their agreement whilst others gasped in horror and protested the statement.

"Why do you say that?" Rose asked, frowning deeply.

"Surely you would agree, Rose," a servant snickered.

"Everyone knows the Prince is more concerned about himself than anyone else," another girl commented.

"Aye, all he cares about is himself," a maid said scornfully.

"Conceited, he is," another muttered.

"You should not say that about him," one girl commented timidly.

"Ooh, does someone fancy His Majesty?" A maid taunted. The others around her laughed gleefully.

"No-"

"Look at how she blushes!"

"I think she does!"

"Of course no-"

"Imagine her married to the heartless Prince!" The maidservants laughed. Rose frowned at the cruel words of the servants. The timid girl gave up protesting and fell silent, rolling over in her bed.

"You are all being ridiculous," the timid girl muttered. The maidservants laughed. Rose felt uncomfortable. The Prince or anyone of authority could walk past at any moment and hear the maidservants insulting Tristan.

"Rose agrees with us, right Rose?" The room was silent as Rose was singled out. Rose exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Anabelle. She frowned and pondered how to answer eloquently.

"The Prince is... a good man," Rose said cautiously. Gasps and murmurs of surprise broke out through the room. The maidservants seemed so amazed that Rose - the known rebel - had supported the Prince that they did not know how to respond. One by one they began to recover. One girl smirked and flicked her hair over her shoulder, raising one thin eyebrow.

"You had best be careful, Rose, people will think you actually like him," the girl said. Some of the maidservants chuckled at the idea.

"Maybe he was the mystery man you danced with!" One girl perked up.

"Is that why you have been refusing to tell who he was?" Another snickered.

"Do not be addlepated, you know the Prince would never attend a town festival," another girl responded, rolling her eyes.

"And he would certainly never dance with a servant."

"Much less a servant like Rose!"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Rose asked, hurt.

"Everyone knows you refused to bow to him, you humiliated him."

"He must completely despise your presence"

"It is a wonder she was not executed for her crime!"

"The past is the past, and we should leave it there," Anabelle cut in, glaring at the maidservants. "It is not for any of you to judge Rose for her decisions. You should leave her alone. Nor should you be speaking against the Prince, your future King. Shame on you all." Anabelle spoke the words so assertively no one dared to speak their own thoughts. The room was silent as the maidservants gradually dispersed to their own beds.

"Thank you," Rose whispered to Anabelle when most of the servants were too far away to hear. Anabelle nodded and gave her a gentle smile.

"Of course. You should be careful, Rose. People are not likely to forget that you defied Prince Tristan. People could use it against you, like tonight," Anabelle whispered back. A sinking feeling filled Rose. Would people truly use something like refusing to bow as a way to hurt her?

"I will be careful," Rose promised. A maidservant walked around the room, blowing out the candles lighting their quarters. The room was soon covered in darkness.

Rose laid awake pondering the events of the day. It was clear many of the maidservants did not like her - probably out of jealousy. She suddenly regretted receiving the position of lady-in-waiting for Princess Suzanna. The other servants no longer treated her with friendliness or openness.

She would rather have more friends and hard labor than no friends and easier work.

Her thoughts inadvertently drifted to Tristan. It seemed she was not the only one who, at first glance, thought Tristan was a selfish person. She felt sorrow for him. It must be hard to be the Prince and have everyone watching and judging you for your every action.

She thought about his situation for a moment and then smiled. Once word spread that he was building a home for the orphans and homeless, she was sure the public opinion about him would change.

Rose stared at the stars she could see outside her window. Outside the castle, hidden among hedges and roses, was a secret garden. A secret garden where she had danced with the Prince and embraced him. Her heart fluttered just at the thought. Sorrow seemed to weigh on her shoulders at the impossibility of their relationship. They could never be together, no matter how much her heart longed for him.

Nothing is impossible.

The words were so clear and unexpected that Rose jumped. She sat up in her bed and looked around, but she could see no one near her. She wanted to call out and ask who had spoken, but the other servants would think her mad if she spoke to the silence. Hesitantly, Rose laid back down. She must have imagined the words. Rose rolled onto her side and tried to sleep, but found she was too tense to relax. Her mind kept drifting to her talk with Tristan and the way he had said he would fight for her. Just the memory of his words brought a warm blush to her cheeks. She decided to pray.

Jesus, I know that you love me and want what is best for me. I know that sometimes what I want isn't the best thing for me b-but, but I care for Tristan; I was wrong about him. He is a good man with a good heart. I know I am just a servant, I know this is an impossible situation, but if you can... please help me.

She ended her prayer and realised a tear had escaped her eye. She wiped it away awkwardly. She felt no better and no worse than she did before praying, but within minutes she found herself drifting to sleep.