Winter was passing with remarkable speed ever since Amir and Anita had struck their little deal, Anita mused one day. She was fast growing used to having a bit of extra time at the end of her days, which she liked immensely. It left a bit of free time in her evenings to read a book—something she hadn't been able to do in a while—or take extra special care of her animals.

She was also fast growing used to preparing meals for two, and she wasn't quite sure how she felt about that. Amir was a necessary evil who was shaping up to be a better farmhand than she was expecting. He was not a friend. He was not a constant, pleasant figure in her life. These reminders didn't help when she would find herself making a dinner too large for one person, as she had, out of habit, doubled the recipe. Amir would never know that she was serving him leftovers for lunch; if he had, perhaps he would have realized why the meal was served so crabbily.

Or maybe he wouldn't have. "Crabby" was Anita's general state of being, and if she acted any other way around him, it tended to surprise him into discomfort as he waited for the other shoe to drop.

Anita had learned the hard way that being nice to Amir was more trouble than it was worth. For Winter Harmony Day, Anita had spent the time—and money, damn it—to bake Amir some chocolate cookies and wrap them up in yellow paper. He'd been working constantly for the past two weeks, never taking a single day off and rarely complaining. He deserved a nice thank-you for his hard work, and though Anita admitted she could be a touch stingy, she still could be known to express gratitude.

It was a nicety.

It was common courtesy.

It wasn't even a romantic holiday.

Then why had Amir looked so damn suspicious when she'd offered him the yellow package?

"What is this?" he'd asked dubiously, raising the gift up a bit and eying it with uncertainty.

"It's a wrapped present, Amir," Anita had said, plastering a smile on her face. "That's the fun part; you don't know what's inside until you open it."

Amir had offered it back to her. "No, thank you. I don't want it exploding on me."

Anita had been surprised by the hurt that stabbed through her heart. "You don't really think that poorly of me, do you?" she'd asked, genuinely curious.

Amir's answering look told her all she needed to know.

The hurt deepened. "I don't try to be the bad guy in this, Amir," she'd said quietly. "It's a Winter Harmony Day present. They're chocolate cookies."

"Are they poisoned?"

"You know what? Forget it," Anita had snapped, snatching the present out of his grasp. "I was just trying to thank you for all the hard work you've been doing for me lately. Isn't that the point of this holiday? To show thanks? But if you're going to be a sarcastic ass about it, lesson learned. I won't let my guard down again and try to be grateful anymore."

At her little speech, Amir had looked surprised for half a second before the suspicion returned. "I'm only doing the 'hard work' because you're blackmailing me," he'd snapped back.

"Get back to work."

"I will," he'd hissed, storming back down the basement stairs, even though both of them knew he'd finished for the day.

Anita had eaten all the cookies by herself that midnight, too embarrassed to call a friend up to share them with. Destroying the evidence of her weakness.

Anita winced at the memory, shoving her pillow over her face. Glancing at her clock, she saw that it was already two AM. She had to get up in three hours, and so far she hadn't slept at all. All this sleeplessness over the silly fact that tomorrow—well, today—was the twenty-third of winter, and she couldn't decide if she was supposed to ask Amir to dinner the next day.

Amir threw on his new farmer's clothes as quickly as he could, though he struggled with the pants buttons, as always. Antoinette had designed some odd clasp system that made the fit extra snug and durable, though learning how to properly hook each button over its matching metal loop had caused him to be twenty minutes late to work the first time he'd put them on. He was too embarrassed to explain to Anita the reason for his tardiness, so after a bit of mostly one-sided arguing, she'd docked him a thousand gold from that week's pay.

Amir's first bazaar had been fast, confusing, and, at times, disturbing. Many of her customers were surprised to find him working there and seemed not to be sure whether or not he was in charge of the bootlegging business. Anita eventually solved the confusion—which was slowing down business—by directing her thirstier customers to Amir, who soon learned the most efficient way to slip money into his many-pocketed new jacket and hand over crates of booze marked FRUIT in one elegant motion. By the end of the day, Anita had been the happiest he'd ever seen her, and they spent the evening counting gold together. His tardiness penalty had mattered little, he'd decided, once he was walking away with gold weighing down his trousers.

Amir finished buttoning up said trousers and dashed out the door. A bazaar was coming up in a few days, and last week when they'd run out of blueberry wine, Anita had been furious. He was supposed to check on this week's batch and make sure they'd be ready in time. If not, it was—again his job—to watch over the animals while Anita went fishing to insure a stream of cash to make up for the lost profits.

Unfortunately, Daisy stopped him on his way out the door. "Amir, are you joining us for dinner tomorrow night?" she squealed, clasping her hands together in excitement.

Excitement for what? "Is there something special about tomorrow night?" he inquired politely.

"Silly, you remember!" she giggled, swatting him with her feather duster. "It's the Starry Night Festival!"

Of course. With his frenzied work on the farm lately, it had completely slipped his mind. He usually spent it with the hotel family and Angelo. "I don't see any reason why not," he replied. "Thank you for inviting me."

"Oh, you always act so surprised!" she said with another laugh and swat of the duster. "It's no trouble at all. There'll be chocolate fondue, so bring your appetite!"

He nodded vaguely and continued his dash out the door. Glancing to his left, he saw a path leading up to a ledge that he'd never noticed before. Judging by the trail, it looked like it would lead directly into the northern part of town. He was already running later than he'd like; maybe he'd find a new shortcut to Anita's farm.

Sure enough, the ledge dropped him off exactly where he'd predicted, and the path only continued as he jumped from ledge to ledge.

As he arrived at the farm twenty minutes earlier than usual, Amir vowed to start getting up later.

Anita's horse Firefoot was already out and about, so Amir decided that, rather than start work early, he would relax and spend time with the only animal whose name he could remember. The horse was a deep chestnut that seemed to shine from the harsh winter sun, and Amir spent a few moments admiring its beautiful coat before a creak from the door alerted him to Anita's presence.

"You're up early," she said. Amir glanced at her guiltily. To his surprise, she didn't sound irritated. In fact, if he had to use an adjective to describe her demeanor, he'd probably choose…

Meek.

The thought startled him. "Meek" was not usually a word he associated with Anita.

Amir, realizing she was still expecting an answer, decided that telling Anita about his new shortcut wasn't a good idea. He didn't want her expecting him this early every day, after all. "I couldn't sleep."

She sighed. "Must be the weather or something. I couldn't sleep, either." She returned to her home with nothing more than a "Breakfast's ready."

Amir stared after her, shocked at the sympathy she'd displayed. No ridiculing laugh? No scolding for not starting work right away? Sleep-deprived Anita was clearly a pleasant figure to be around.

They ate their omelets in silence, as usual. Though at this point in their relationship the silence was usually comfortable, Amir felt distinctly ill at ease. Anita's eyes remained firmly focused on her rolled egg the entire meal. Amir kept sneaking glances at her, but she never rose to the bait, not even looking at him when she cleared the table.

What had he done to deserve this discomfort? It had been nice to have an argument-free morning, but Anita looked as if he'd kicked her dog. Actually, if he had kicked one of her many animals, he was sure she'd look less heartbroken and more furious and violent. Unable to stand Anita's woe-is-me face without knowing the cause, Amir made his escape to the greenhouse to check on the blueberries.

Anita exhaled as soon as the prince had darted down the stairs. He hadn't made a single comment on how tense she was; maybe that meant he hadn't noticed, and she could ask him to dinner without him picking up on her nervousness. She hadn't been this worried about asking a boy to dinner since she was nineteen, and that had been as more than friends.

Would it feel any different, she wondered as she milked her cows, if she were asking Amir to dinner as a date?

She paused to think about this. Butterflies in her stomach, sleepless nights of worrying, and she'd probably brood a bit.

Anita swore. That was exactly what she'd been doing.

She briskly continued taking care of her morning chores. It wasn't like she had a schoolgirl crush on the man; she'd just never asked anyone to the Starry Night Festival before. When she'd first arrived in Zephyr Town, she'd been so focused on starting up her bootlegging business that she'd rarely seen the point in participating in the festivals that required wasting money rather than winning prizes. Her previous Starry Night Festivals had pretty much been normal dinners, with her maybe stargazing for a few minutes before she deemed it too cold to stay out any longer. Now that someone else was a part of her farm and its successes, it seemed almost rude to not invite them to the Starry Night annual dinner, even if it wasn't going to be anything special.

Anita nodded to herself, satisfied. No wonder she was so nervous; frankly, she didn't want Amir to think poorly of her Starry Night traditions, and so she ordinarily wouldn't invite him, but boy, it'd be rude not to, right?

The cow stared at her, almost like she was judging Anita's decisions.

"Well, I didn't ask for your opinion, anyway," Anita snapped, scooping up her ten bottles of milk to place in storage.

The cow mooed.

"Amir?" Anita called down the stairs, maybe quieter than she would ordinarily. Amir sighed. Was she disappointed that she actually had to talk to him when she'd been happily avoiding him all day? Even lunch had been another silent affair. "You down there?"

Of course he was. Where else would he—oh, Amir remembered. He was supposed to go pick up the newest wine bottle shipment.

"I'm on my way," he responded, knowing she wouldn't scold him today. Amir trudged up the stairs, conflicted on whether he liked today's Anita or not. Probably not. He sort of liked riling her up.

Heading outside, Amir hooked Firefoot up to Anita's cart. Knowing how to ride a horse well was the one farmhand skill pre-Anita he'd picked up back home, and Anita had been quick to take advantage of it once she'd found out. In the beginning, because he'd been out of practice, he'd gone down the hill south of the farm rather slowly, but now he raced down it at full gallop, knowing the empty—and sturdy—cart behind him would be fine until he loaded it up full of bottles.

When he arrived at the bazaar grounds, the delivery man was already pacing impatiently, the crate of wine bottles lying at his feet. Amir snorted. He'd only been ten minutes late.

"There you are," the guy said as Amir began counting out the money Anita had given him. "I've been waiting for an eternity."

"Here's your payment," Amir said instead of an apology. He scooped up the crates and loaded them into the cart, throwing a blanket over them. Never hurt to be careful of curious eyes wondering what was inside.

When Amir got back to the farm, Anita was nowhere in sight. Amir shrugged and got to work, unloading the crates in Anita's now-familiar storage space, and returning to the greenhouse to pick the ripe blueberries to ferment.

By the time he'd finished packing the blueberries and grapes into the farm windmill, he still hadn't seen Anita. Deciding he was a bit worried, he stepped into the farmhouse again and came face to face with Anita.

Embarrassed, they both stepped back, and Amir could tell something was different about her.

"You're wearing makeup," he said, pleased that he'd noticed. Brown eyeshadow adorned Anita's left eye while purple was barely smeared on her right, which also sported black mascara.

"I'm trying out different stuff," she explained. "I can't figure out what I like yet."

"What's the occasion?" he asked, actually caring for once. It wasn't often that a farmer wore makeup.

"Oh, you know," Anita said vaguely. Before he could reply, she changed the subject. "What are your plans for the Starry Night Festival?"

Amir decided to let it drop. "I think I'm eating with the hotel family. They're making chocolate fondue."

"You like chocolate fondue?"

"Who doesn't?"

That made Anita smile, but it only lasted a second. "Well, I'm not having any chocolate fondue. I don't even know what I'll make for dinner."

"Oh? Who are you eating with?"

Anita fidgeted. "Oh, no one, really." There was a pause. "Okay, that was a weird lie. No one. Just me and my animals."

They were silent for a few moments. Amir didn't know what to say.

"Hey, I'm probably not having chocolate fondue, but I mean," Anita began, "you eat with the hotel family all the time, right? How about you spend a night with me? I mean," she said loudly, "dinner with me? Do you want to have dinner with me?"

Amir was quiet for a long time—so long that Anita could feel heat rising in her cheeks.

"You know what—" she began.

"Sure, I'll have dinner with you," Amir cut her off with a smile.

Anita blushed in surprise. "Yeah, it's really no big deal," she insisted. "If you'd rather eat with Ethel and everyone, go ahead. I was just curious because you work here and all."

"It's fine, Anita. I want to eat dinner here."

"Oh," she said quietly. "Okay, that's cool. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

He smiled again and turned to leave, knowing when he was being shown the door. As he was walking down the path, he heard Anita call, "You can have the day off tomorrow!"

Another smile. Amir went home still unsure as to why he accepted the invitation.

It was seven-thirty, and Anita still wasn't ready for the festival to start. Miso soup was bubbling away in a small pan on the stove, and the main dish—stew, of course—had just been brought down to a simmer. The chocolate cake was in the oven and would be ready in ten minutes.

And Anita was prancing about the farmhouse in her underwear.

Well, not so much "prancing" as dashing back and forth from her storage area to the mirror in her bathroom, deciding between the two styles of outfits she owned. There was her every-day work outfit, which she wasn't sure was appropriate, but in comparison to the other outfit…

The other outfit was a dress her mother had sent her last year that Anita hadn't even touched yet. It wasn't so much inappropriate as it was sophisticated and classy and almost too formal for a not-a-date. Simple but refined, it hugged her curves with swaths of deep purple fabric accentuated only a smattering of rhinestones on the corner of the sash. It was hardly appropriate for a farmer to wear, but her mother had never been that connected with her lifestyle choices, anyway.

Anita wriggled into the dress and was running to the mirror again when she heard a knock on the door. She moaned to herself—purple inappropriate date dress it was. She ran to the door and opened it as she forced a smile onto her face.

Amir grinned when he saw her. "So that's why you were trying on makeup yesterday," he teased. Anita blushed and fought the urge to hit him. "Glad to see you finally decided on something you liked. You look very nice."

Anita rubbed the corner of her mascara-encrusted eyelashes. "I only have a few kinds of makeup. There wasn't much to decide between."

He entered the house and removed his scarf, hanging it up on his usual peg by the door. To Anita's immense relief, he was wearing his prince robes in lieu of his usual work get-up. In his left hand he held a polished bottle of wine. Anita peered closer to read the label. It couldn't have been from her farm—she would have noticed if he'd taken something, of course, and he wouldn't dare to bring something he'd stolen for dinner…Besides, Amir didn't seem like the stealing type.

Amir noticed the direction of her glances. "I bought it from Joan on my way home last night," he explained. "She was having a special on Spring Wine. I'm getting sick of winter, and I thought you might like a taste of the incoming season."

Anita stared. "That's a really nice thought, Amir," she managed. "I guess I'll take the chestnut wine out of the fridge, then." She carefully took the bottle of expensive wine out of Amir's grasp and went to the kitchen, inviting Amir to sit down as she did so. "Dinner's just about ready. I hope you're hungry."

Returning from the kitchen, she set two bowls of miso soup down on the table.

"I put tofu in it, too," she said. "I hope that's all right."

"That's perfectly fine. I like tofu. Thank you."

They ate in companionable silence for a few moments, but it wasn't long before Amir attempted a conversation. He didn't think it was very fair to Anita for this night to be just another meal between a farmhand and his blackmailing boss.

"Yesterday, when I went to pick up the wine bottles, the delivery man was quite rude to me," he began. Anita glanced up, interested.

"It was ridiculous," Amir scoffed. "I was only about ten minutes late, and this man was acting as though he had so many more pressing matters to attend to."

"Being a delivery man is an important occupation, Amir," Anita said with a straight face. "Think of all the packing peanuts he had to stuff into boxes! Not just anyone can do that."

Amir chuckled. "Still, Zephyr Town needs a new delivery service. This is the third time I've met with the man, and he's been arrogant and impatient all three times."

"Well, who do you think in this town could run a delivery service? Dirk?"

They both laughed and continued eating. The conversation flowed nicely even through the main course, which Amir was delighted about, and all the way through to dessert.

Amir took a final bite of his chocolate cake, savoring the feel of silky chocolate over the soft cake for one last time.

"I don't mean to exaggerate," he said, hesitating at the praise he was about to lavish upon the woman, "but that was the best chocolate cake I've ever eaten."

Anita glanced up from her own plate in surprise. "Thanks. I've entered it in the Cooking Festival before; I'm surprised you didn't taste it then."

"Is that in the fall?"

"Yes—oh, right, you're not here," Anita remembered. "Well, I'm glad you could enjoy it here."

She began clearing the table of plates and empty wineglasses while Amir watched. As she was washing off the dishes in the sink, Amir leaned against the kitchen doorway with a thoughtful look on his face.

"It's the Starry Night Festival," he pointed out.

Anita glanced up irritably. "What? Yes, it is. I know that, Amir."

Amir glared for a moment before he remembered his original point. "Well, I was just thinking that it's a clear night. We should be able to see lots of stars. Isn't that what this festival is about?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Do you want to watch the stars with me?"

Heat rushed to Anita's face, and she remained where she was, safely facing away from the man. Such an invitation sounded distinctly romantic, especially for what was supposed to be an unromantic evening.

But was it, really? Anita's subconscious helpfully supplied. She shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"No?" Amir said.

"No what?"

"No, you don't want to watch the stars?"

Anita turned around, hoping that her face was no longer flushed. "I have a bench in my pasture that should be pretty nice. We can have a comfortable view from there."

Amir smiled a smile that made Anita's heart race. Sometime over the course of the dinner, Amir had stopped being her necessary-evil-farmhand and had become a charming gentleman. Maybe even a friend. Maybe even…

"Shall we go?"

"We shall," Anita said, a little louder than usual to clear her thoughts once more.

The pasture sparkled crystal white in the moonlight as they trudged up the hill to the bench. Anita had thrown on the matching shawl to her dress, but she doubted it would do much good. Shivering slightly in the winter evening chill, she regretted not just bundling up into her everyday jacket.

They brushed snow off the bench at the top of the hill and sat down together, just close enough to be cordial but not touching. They stared at the sky together, the moonlight causing their faces to glow slightly.

"They're beautiful," Amir said quietly, breathing out puffs of white air. Anita nodded.

"I didn't think I would want to come to dinner tonight," he continued after a few moments of silence. Hurt stabbed briefly through Anita's heart—hurt that was well deserved, she noted bitterly. "You are, after all, blackmailing me," he echoed her thoughts, "but that's only because I'm doing the same to you.

"But I'm having a lovely time tonight, Anita." He turned his face towards hers. "Do you think every day could be like this?"

"What?" Anita gasped, surprised by the conversation.

"Do you think maybe we could try being friends? You're not too irritating to deal with, I see," he said with a grin, "when you're not hounding me about my work. And I don't think I'm unpleasant company when I'm not being bitter about the blackmail."

"Sure," Anita sputtered. "Yeah, we could try being friends."

Amir flashed a smile, and Anita shivered. Unfortunately, he noticed.

"Are you cold?" For a frightening, hopeful moment, Anita was sure he was going to put his arm around her. "I can lend you my scarf," he said instead, and Anita exhaled in something that was sort of like relief and sort of like disappointment.

"I'm fine, thanks," she said. "It's getting pretty late, anyway. I might just head inside."

Amir stood and stretched. "It is, isn't it? I guess I'll be headed home."

Anita rose as well. "Oh, your wine. Come inside to get it.

He shook his head. "No, I insist. Keep it. Think of it as a thank-you gift for the lovely dinner."

He stepped closer. "Let me thank you properly for the dinner," he said quietly. Anita felt her pulse quicken. "Thank you very much for the wonderful evening, Anita. It was nice just being able to spend time with you like this," he continued.

Anita looked up, uncomfortable with his proximity. Abruptly, she stuck out her hand. Amir looked down in surprise. "You're welcome, Amir. Have a good evening."

Amir grinned and shook her hand. Within a few moments, he was headed down the hill with a wave.

"See you at work tomorrow!" Anita called after him. Once she was sure he was out of sight, she smiled to herself and went inside to bed.

Anita spent the next morning in the bathtub, closing her eyes in embarrassment at the memory of the previous night. She'd acted like such a love-struck teenager. Amir would never take her seriously now.

After she'd dried off, she stared at herself in the mirror.

"Foolish girl," she said to the reflection. "Don't let it happen again."

AN: Here's a long one for the crappy previous shorter chapter! If you were wondering why this chapter was a little more romantically-written than the other ones, it's because I was listening to French love songs as I wrote. Sorry about that. Thanks for reading, thanks to those of you who choose to review, and see you next time!