She abandoned her book and stepped out into the dusk, brushing black hair out of her face. She was glad to get away, if only for a moment.

---His POV---

I flipped my book in the air as I walked along the worn stones, considering the path I walked. The flagstones weren't old enough to be this worn and smooth, seeing as they'd been replaced just last year. I was fairly sure that the king had had the edges filed so they would look old. More romantic, too. Everyone always connects rose gardens and romance. They never consider the fact that some people just like roses. I'm one of those people, which is why I was going to this particular garden. Also, my sister had been annoying me, and I hadn't gotten a chance to look at the book I'd found at home, wedged behind a little-used bookshelf.

I stepped through the opening in the wall, trying to discern the title on my book-it had partly flaked off as a result of time. It was quiet here among the roses. I looked up so I wouldn't hit the climbing vines on the walls. I'd done that before, and didn't want to repeat the experience-they had thorns.

Surprisingly, there was already someone else there. Her back was to me, and she hadn't heard me come in. I turned to leave, thinking she was waiting for someone, but stopped. She wasn't waiting, simply enjoying the night. Well, twilight, actually. It wasn't quite dark yet, and the sky was a blue-purple, streaked with bright pink and orange clouds. I didn't know why I hadn't seen it before. I turned my thoughts back to the woman, thinking quickly. Should I leave? She didn't seem the romantic sort, nor an empty-headed court beauty. So I took a chance.

I asked, "What were you reading?"

---Third person---

"What were you reading?"

She spun, staring in surprise at the man who stood behind her. "How did you know I was reading?"

He grinned, holding up his own book. "I come out here, sometimes, and you don't look like the kind of person that would just be here for the roses. Though I do have to admit that they are quite nice."

"The Sword of Glass," she told him.

He nodded appreciatively. "'In the long ago, a hero came to the land,'" he quoted.

"'It was a time of darkness then, when evil reigned,'" she finished, smiling. "What are you reading?"

"I'm not quite sure," he admitted sheepishly. "The title's worn off, and I haven't had enough time to do more than glance at it. It's in Old Thak, I think, but no one else I know can read it."

"Sounds interesting."

"Really?" He came to lean against a small bare patch of wall across from her. "Out of curiosity, why?"

She flashed him a grin. "My father was insistent that I know other languages than Common. So, he taught me Old Thak."

"Really?"

Eyes shining, she sat down on a stone bench, patting the space next to her. "Try me."

They spent the next few hours bent over the small book, reading and translating the text out loud, correcting each other, and laughing at their mistakes. Anyone walking past would have heard an odd conversation.

"No, no, no. That's past tense, isn't it?"

"No-yes-no. No, it's-wait, you're right.

A bell chimed suddenly. She jumped up, and he looked at her quizzically.

"What-"

"I have to leave," she told him, blushing a bit. "My mother will have a fit if I'm too late, and that was eleven bells."

"Good night," he said. "Actually, I should be getting back, too. May I escort you?" He offered his arm. Giggling, she took it.

At the gate back into the Palace proper, they parted. "Well, good night then," she said.

"The same to you," he replied. "Um-what's your name?"

"Alissa of Tasride," she laughed. "And you?"

"Terren of Josu's Dirk," he told her. A thought struck him. "Do you think you'll be finished with The Sword of Glass by tomorrow?"

She shook her head, knowing what he was trying to say. "I'll probably be reading it in the rose garden for at least the next week," she said impishly. "I'm a horribly slow reader."

He winked at her. "And I'm awful at Old Thak. See you tomorrow?"

"But of course."

As they parted, he glanced back down the hall and, to his surprise, met her eyes. She grinned at him and turned a corner in a rustle of dark red material. He grinned to himself.

---Alissa's POV---

I let myself in quietly, praying to Mithros and Ganiel that my mother was already asleep. They must have been listening, because she was. I was halfway to my door before I heard the whisper. "Alissa?"

I blinked in the darkness until I saw the figure, and relaxed. "Seaver. What are you doing up so late?"

"Waiting for you. Papa got tired."

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't notice the time." I was glad of the dark-he couldn't see my blush.

"Mm. And what exactly were you doing that you were so absorbed in so as not to notice the time?"

"I had a secret meeting with my lover."

He shot up out of the chair. "What?"

It took me a long time to keep myself from laughing out loud. When I could, I gasped out, "Seaver, you dolt. I thought you knew me better than that."

Sitting back down, he sighed. "Gods, you have to stop doing that to me. Where were you, then?"

"In the rose garden, reading."

"A likely story," he responded. I knew he believed me. He disappeared into his room, and I barely caught his words: "Night, 'Lis."

AN- The Sword of Glass is partly a legend and partly a battle history, if you were wondering. It was written a really long time ago by someone related to Neal.

This came out of nowhere, like the names, which I wasn't planning to add. But I rather like it.

This story was originally a horrible, fluffy oneshot. Roses and romance. Argh. (I was reading this story I wrote a long time ago, and there's a scene in a rose garden. That gave me the idea. However, the original scene is horridly sappy. I kept thinking, "I wrote this?")

Sorry to anyone who was hoping that this was an update for one of my other stories! Kel and Dom have locked themselves away somewhere-out of the gutter, please, and let me finish-in my mind where I can't find them, but I shall try, even if it means getting Kitten to explode some locks.

Do you people think I did the first-person parts all right, or should I stop even thinking of writing like that? Please review!