Bow to the King

Chapter Thirteen

Now she understood why he had suggested they buy flowers. Rose removed the twine holding the bundle of flowers together. Tristan stood a few steps away from her, giving her some privacy. Rose gently began laying the flowers down, one by one, on the foot of Tilly's grave. A few tears escaped her as she focused on her task. When she was finished, she stood up straight and stared at the gravestone. The flowers were bright and lovely. The grave was beautiful. Rose choked back a few more tears as she lightly ran her hand along the gravestone.

"I am sorry I was not there for you. I will never forget you, Tilly," Rose whispered through her tears. "You were more than just a friend to me. I will forever love you."

The warmth of Tristan's hand touched her shoulder lightly. "You were the family she needed. You made her life better," Tristan said quietly to her.

"And she made my life colourful," Rose whispered. They stood together and stared at the grave of Tilly. "Thank you," Rose said, turning her back to the grave so she could look at Tristan. "For doing this. It means more to me than you could ever imagine."

Tristan smiled at her. "I wish I had been able to do more," he answered. Rose shook her head vehemently.

"You have done more than any other person I know. If Tilly had ever met you I know she would have loved you," Rose said with a choked up laugh. "You cared enough to do this. You have changed much since the first day I met you. Just look at everything you have done for people like me. The village home is going to change lives; it was no small act. And every time I visit this grave I will remember that the Prince cared for a homeless beggar he never knew." Tristan gave the softest smile and gently reached out to hold her hand.

"And every time I see the roses in the field I will remember that there was once a girl who looked beyond the exterior of a heartless Prince and saw the man he could be," Tristan said without fear. He raised her hand and placed the lightest kiss on her knuckles. Rose's heart practically stopped. Tristan dropped her hand, though the smile on his face did not fade.

He should not have kissed her hand; he was not courting her. But for once Rose did not have the heart to say so, for once she just wanted to enjoy the time she had with him, and for once she smiled up at him with the most carefree expression she could muster.

"Are you going to run from me again?" Tristan joked.

"Never," Rose responded with a giggle. Tristan held out his arm and Rose took it.

"I should return you to my sister before she can think of a way to punish me for stealing you," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

And stealing me he is, she thought. Her heart was flying away from her right into the palms of Tristan and there was nothing she could do about it. Rose looked back over her shoulder, her gaze lingering on the gravestone. Goodbye, Tilly. The tree by the grave moved with the breeze, as if waving goodbye in return.

"Thank you for bringing me here. I truly appreciate it - and not just because I was given time off from my duties," Rose said to Tristan.

"It was my pleasure. Do you receive enough time off from your tasks?" He questioned.

"Plenty, Suzanna is a very attentive mistress."

"You enjoy working for her, then?" Tristan asked curiously.

"Very much. Sometimes I feel like she treats me like I am the Princess instead of the other way around." Tristan laughed heartily at that comment.

"That sounds like Suzanna," he responded. "I am most curious, though," he said after a minute. "You read the eulogy on the grave easily, I did not expect that. Where did you learn to read?" Tristan asked, inclining his head to the side. Rose could understand his curiosity. It was rare - practically unheard of - for a mere peasant to know how to read or write.