"Rose! Go fetch Prince Nickolas for me at once!" Queen Jane Carter ordered the servant.

"Yes, my Queen." Rose said obediently. She hurried off to find the prince.

˜Oh that Prince! she thought to herself. ˜Always going off into the thicket and by the pond! Always getting into mischief! I shouldn't have to be his keeper! He's twenty years old for goodness sake! That's three years older than me! And yet, here I am, going off to collect the young man like he's a toddler.

A feeling from deep down inside of Rose touched her, in a way that felt like a tiny prick on her arm. The prick seemed to say, You like him.

˜I do not like him! Rose thought to the prick.

You do so, and you know it. You've liked him forever. Ever since you were fourteen and had just began working for the Queen. You adored him, remember? You used to walk out into the garden when ever you had a spare moment, just to try to get him to notice you, remember? I know you remember all that, and more. All those hours you spent crying over Nickolas.

˜I'm a servent girl you would say,and he's a prince, so he'll never love me! and you cried the whole five hours you were supposed to have spent sleeping. It went on like that for weeks, remember? And now your feelings are resurfacing , but you don't want to admit it, do you?

"No," Rose said softly, "I don't want to admit it." Then even softer, "And yes, I do remember."