A/N: Here we go! Thanks for all the support you guys have shown for this story. *hugs*

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, Ever After, or anything related. *Some lines below are borrowed from the movie Ever After. Credit for those lines belong to their respective writers.*


"But we're never content with living well if we think we can live better."

― Jacob Grimm


Rose sighed as she leaned back and allowed Sarah Jane to brush her hair. In the absence of her mother, Sarah Jane had always assumed the role of motherly figure, especially after Rose's father died and Cassandra practically ostracized her. Despite the changes in Rose's lifestyle it had been a nightly tradition for the two women that neither wanted to give up. And so the pair sat huddled by the fire in the kitchen, along with Gwen and Rhys, who were enjoying their own evening meal now that the three ladies of the house had been feed and been tucked away in their rooms. Rose smiled when she noticed Rhys sneaking his wife some of his portions when she wasn't looking, only wanting the very best for her and their unborn child. She was so thankful that he was back with their makeshift family and hadn't been shipped away with the other thieves and criminals.

Thinking of thieves and criminals, Rose's mind wandered to the missing candlesticks and painting from the hall that Cassandra brought up earlier. It made no sense to her. She was positive that neither she nor Sarah Jane, or Gwen and Rhys had taken them, which really only left Cassandra or her two daughters. And how would stealing possessions from her own home benefit her? And for her to have the nerve to garnish their wages until the possessions were found?! It was appalling! Not to mention Cassandra's threat to have them shipped away for stealing. The only bright spot of that whole conversation had been when Lynda informed them that Prince James had spoke to his father and had the men Rhys had been locked away with released. On top of that there was a new decree that any man who sails must be compensated. It was mind boggling.

"Why do you think the Prince had all the thieves released?" Rose asked aloud, curious what the others would have to say.

Rhys chuckled as he took a bite of bread. "I don't have to think, Rosie. I know!" he said between chews.

"What?"

"Swallow your food, silly man." Gwen smacked her husband's chest playfully. "Rhys told me everything that happened, and I'm sure what he means that you're the reason the Prince had them all released."

Rose's eyes widened. "Me... b-but I didn't really-"

"Oh, yes you did. You stood up to him, made him think. Takes a brave person to do that."

"Are we surprised?" Sarah Jane asked, setting the hairbrush aside as she began plaiting her hair. "Our Rose has always been so very brave and very courageous."

"I didn't feel very brave or courageous," Rose admitted. "I was terrified the entire time."

The older woman maneuvered herself so she could face her charge. "Courage isn't a matter of not being frightened, you know. It's being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway. An old friend told me that."

Gwen nodded in the background. "And as we learned tonight, apparently you made quite the impression on not only the Prince, but everyone around. Did you hear Reinette? She said there were loads of courtiers talking all about you! And didn't that just burn her and her witch of mother. They were practically green!"

Rose smiled, but shook her head. "I don't want people to be talking about me, though. What if Cassandra figures it out?"

"Don't you worry about that, sweetheart," Sarah Jane told her. "As long as you're never in the same place as Prince and Cassandra, and I don't see that happening, you'll be fine. Now, it's best we all head to bed. We have a busy day planned for the market tomorrow."

A busy day indeed.

While Cassandra, Reinette, and Lynda attended the Prince's tennis match, Rose (trying desperately not to think about how she had actually been personally invited to the match by the Prince himself), along with Sarah Jane and Gwen were busy setting up and selling fruits and vegetables from their farm. While Cassandra and her daughters were at the match, Rhys was selling his own wares for his and Gwen's sake.

"Rose Tyler, you get prettier every week."

Rose grimaced. She was occupied measuring out some grains for a potential costumer, and had not seen the man addressing her approach. If she had, she would have chosen to walk away. Clearing her throat, she countered, "And you, Monsieur Van Statten, are wasting your flattery."

Van Statten smirked. He was a good friend (and Rose often wondered if perhaps more) to Cassandra. Such friendship made him feel entitled to say whatever he felt like to her servants. "It's a pity your soil's the best in the province and yet so poorly tended."

"I'll have to disagree with you, sir," Sarah Jane stated as she stepped forward and wrapped her arm around Rose's waist. "While you're correct that we have the best soil in the province, I think we do a find job tending it. Especially given our limited resources."

"Limited resources, you say?" He lifted an eyebrow. "Is there anything I could do?"

Gwen stepped to Rose's other side. "You could speak to the Baroness and get back to your shopping. We have customers to tend to."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I'd rather discuss it with Rose, if you don't mind."

"I do actually!"

Rose smiled, but squeezed her hand. She didn't want the other woman getting in any major confrontation in her condition. "It's alright, Gwen."

"I may be twice your age Rose, but I'm well endowed," Van Statten told her, ignoring the look of disgust on her face. "As evident by my estate, I've always had a soft spot for the less unfortunate. You need a wealthy benefactor and I need a young lady with spirit."

Rose's stomach rolled. This wasn't the first time the man had approached her about such a thing, but he definitely was becoming bolder in his requests. "Spirit I may have, but I'm not the lady for you, believe me. Now," she held up a bowl, "would you like some prunes?"

"No," he sneered. "I'll buy nothing this week, and you'd do well to remember that without my generosity your pathetic little farm would cease to exist. I'd be very, very careful if I were you."

The three ladies stood tense until Van Statten walked away. When he was clear of the station Sarah Jane let out a noise of frustration. "That man is a pig! If he didn't buy a bushel of vegetables from us every week, I'd spit on him."

Gwen merely shrugged. "I always just spit in his vegetables."

Rose and Sarah Jane looked at her in surprise before breaking out into a fit of giggles. "You do not!" they protested.

"I do too!"


Jamie sighed as he looked at the woman walking to his right. Reinette was beautiful, to be sure, but there was just something missing when he spoke to her. He hadn't even meant to invite her on this turn about the market, but during his tennis match, the Marquis hit the ball over his head, causing him to lose his footing and fall into the netted are where the courtiers stood. He had hoped that his fumble would land him in the lap of his mysterious Comtesse, but it seemed she hadn't attended like he'd hoped she would. It wasn't until he had recovered himself that he realised Reinette was off to the side holding out the missing ball. Before he knew it, she had somehow got him to invite her for walk. How did she even do that? The only thing he remembered saying was how lovely she looked, which she did. Apparently that was all it took. Curse his bloody gob.

He was painfully aware of the fact that Reinette's mother and sister were following them throughout their walk, listening to every word they shared. And, oh, he was sharing many words. It was a defense mechanism for him. If he just kept talking, even if he had no ideas what he what he was talking about, eventually everyone would nod and leave him be. He secretly hoped that if he continued listing the history of the very market they were walking through, eventually Reinette would cut him off and take her leave. He was hoping in vain, for she did cut him off, but she did not take her leave.

"It's wonderful that you know so much about such a little market in your kingdom," she cooed, trailing a hand up his arm.

"Oh," he paused, momentarily flustered, "well, yes. But you know, it's not so little. It's actually-"

She held up a hand. "I don't need the actual dimensions, your highness. I merely meant that, compared to the palace, this is a rather small little area. You must find it so... quaint."

"Oh, but I think it's brilliant! All these people milling about, selling their wares. Good for them!"

"Right," she agreed, though she didn't seemed convinced.

"Oh, I know!" He turned around and held out his hand to his guard, Jakoby, who without words, knew what he wanted. The guard handed over a small box, which Jamie opened, revealing several small treats in various colors. "Here, never have you tasted anything like this!" Reinette grinned, but instead of picking out a treat, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth. Did she want him to feed her?! Well, that was rather intimate. A bit too intimate if you asked him. With great care, he attempted to lightly toss the small morsel in her mouth. Thankfully he did not miss, though she did give a small choke of surprise. Clearly she was not expecting that. He watched her chew for a few moments, no look of like or dislike on her face. "Well?"

She gave an audible swallow. "That was... interesting. Very... chewy. What exactly was it?"

"A jelly treat, made by the monks who live in the Forest of Cheem! They always send me a box whenever they make a new batch."

"Huh."

He exhaled is disappointment. She clearly did not enjoy it like he did. Perhaps he should offer to have a guard see her family home? He could claim he had princely duties of some sort. Surely she couldn't question that? "Reinette-"

"Oh, look," she exclaimed and pointed towards a larger stall. "These are our servants, your highness. "

"Really?!" He thought back to the girl who had attacked him with apples. "I'd love to meet them. Good day, ladies," he greeted to the woman at the stall. Apparently his greeting frightened them because there was a sudden scream and, before he knew it, a chicken flying in his face.

The Baroness jumped forward. "What are you doing!? Trying to scare the prince to death?!"

Jamie shook his head and stepped between them, not wanting anyone to be punished on his behalf. "It's quite alright, I believe I was the one that gave them a scare!" He smiled and bounced on the balls of his feet. Something seemed of about the servants though. He could have sworn... "Sorry, but weren't there three of you?"

The oldest of the ladies shook her head. "No, sire. Just us two."

"Really?"

The younger one smiled meekly. "Well, us and the chicken, my lord."


Rose took several deep breaths as she made her way up the stairs and towards her step-mother's bedchambers. After the near run-in with the Prince that day, and her actual run-in with him the previous day, she was terrified of letting something slip. Thankfully, Gwen and Sarah Jane had covered for her while she stayed crouched behind their vegetable stall, praying no one would see her hiding. Later, the two women laughed about it, despite the dressing down they received from Cassandra for throwing a chicken in Prince James's face. Rose would just have to be even more careful about what she says and does around her step-family, lest they catch on about her pretend persona. Bracing herself, she knocked on Cassandra's door.

"Enter," she heard called out.

Rose opened the door and nodded to the woman. "I'm just here to tend to the fire," she said quietly.

"Yes, yes. Get on with it," Cassandra said, though not unkindly. Instead she had a wide smile on her face, leaning back on her pillows. The picture of relaxation. "You should have seen them together, Rose. Prince James was positively smitten with my Reinette. We must press for a quick engagement. I was thinking perhaps Christmas time. Yes, a Christmas wedding! Can you imagine?"

Rose bit her cheek, as placed the final piece of wood in the fire. Turning around she said, "I'm sure it would be lovely."

"Yes, it will be."

"Well, if there's nothing else-"

Cassandra moved to the chair near her bed. "I'd like you to brush my hair."

Rose stopped in her tracks and sighed. "Yes, ma'am." Chewing on her bottom lip, she made her way to where her step-mother was reclining.

"You must stop chewing on your lips like that. It's incredibly unbecoming."

"I'm sorry. I-I'll try to stop."

"My mother was hard on me too you know," Cassandra mentioned casually. "She taught me that cleanliness was next to Godliness. She forced me to wash my face at least twenty times a day, convinced it was never clean enough and that I would shrivel up from all the dirt. But I was very grateful to her. She wanted me to be all I could be and here I am, a Baroness, and Reinette shall be a queen."

She continued brushing her step-mother's hair, trying not to compare the situation to when Sarah Jane would brush hers at night. "I'm sure your mother would be very proud of you."

"Perhaps. She was a very hard woman to please." Reaching behind her, Cassandra pulled Rose around and requested she kneel before her. "Pity you never knew your mother, Rose. There must be a little bit of her in you somewhere," she mused.

Rose smiled softly. "My father used to tell me I looked just like her."

The older woman's face pinched at the mention of her late husband. "Well, I guess we'll never know. But we must never feel sorry for ourselves, must we? No matter how bad things get, they can always get worse."

"Yes, Madame," she agreed, silently praying that things wouldn't get any worse than they already were.

In an act of uncharacteristic softness, Cassandra leaned forward and cupped Rose's cheek. "There are times when I can see so much of Peter in you. It's like he's looking at me through your eyes."

Tears filled those very eyes as she thought of her beloved father. "Really?"

"Yes, well, your features are so masculine," Cassandra said in an abrupt change of moods. "And to be raised by a man? No wonder you're built for hard labour."

Rose stiffened. For the briefest moment she'd thought that perhaps she and her step-mother could turn a new leaf, but here she was insulting her and her upbringing. "We did the best we could. I think my father managed just fine on his own."

"Well, you would think that, wouldn't you? You hardly know any better."

"Did you love my father?" she asked softy and carefully. It was a question that had haunted her for years. She often wondered why her father had chosen the Baroness as his wife. He had been besotted with her, no question of that, but did her love her? Truly love her? Was his love returned? She was desperate to know, because if they loved one another, then maybe, maybe in her heart she could find some forgiveness for the woman who had treated her so cruelly over the years.

Cassandra frowned, but answered with surprising honestly, "I thought I did, but I hardly knew him really. And then he was taken from me." She sniffed, clearly trying to hold back tears. "Now go away. I'm tried."

Rose nodded and exited the room. It hadn't been the answer she was expecting or hoping for, but at least it was something. Perhaps someday she could find it in her heart to forgive.