Standing together in silence, John and Caroline were rather startled by the sudden toll of the bell. Midnight. Slowly, sonorously, the bell tolled. Reluctantly, Caroline stepped back. She knew it would not be wise to be gone for too long. She would be missed. For a moment longer, she clung to John's hand, not wanting to let go, but knowing she must. But at last she pulled away and turned back toward the ballroom.

Suddenly, from the other side of the garden, she could hear angry voices. It sounded like Edward… yelling at somebody…

"You frightened her, you fool!"

Alarmed, she stepped toward the edge of the garden, looking out over the grand staircase of the palace. A female figure, outlined in the moonlight, was running quickly down the steps. Edward followed, pausing a moment at the top, then running down after her. The girl ran more quickly, almost frantically. Caroline frowned in the darkness, wondering what on earth must have happened. And who on earth the girl was who was fleeing in the night in such a way. As she reached the bottom of the steps, she stumbled, then gathered up her skirts and vanished into the distant woods. Something lay on the ground, sparkling in the light of the moon. Caroline was certain it must have been the mystery princess but somehow… her dress hadn't looked as grand as it had earlier in the candle light of the ballroom. It seemed darker in color, not nearly as full skirted… and the girl's hair had hung loose.

Edward had reached the bottom of the stairs and stood there, calling out into the darkness.

"Wait! Come back!" he bent suddenly to pick up the object she had left behind… a single glass slipper. Standing, he looked off into the distance.

"Come back." he repeated, almost quietly, as if to himself. For a long time he stood there, then shook his head and turned back toward the stairs.

Caroline turned to John, puzzled.

"What must have happened?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," John frowned. "I can't imagine why she would run off like that… Come. We should go to the prince."

oOo

As the guests departed that evening, the king and queen bid farewell to each, as gracious and royal as ever. But Edward stood still as a statue in the corner, still holding the glass slipper and staring off into the distance with a puzzled, dreamy expression on his face.

John had tried to question him about the incident but Edward seemed just as surprised as all the others. He didn't know anything more than anyone else did.

"Who was she?" he murmured. "Where did she come from? And where did she go?"

The ballroom was empty now, except for the royal family and their attendants. It was nearly the hour of sunrise but not one of them seemed inclined to rest. Not one, that is, but Queen Edith, who reclined most undignifiedly in her throne, snoring loudly. The king was most excited. At long last, his son had chosen a bride! And such a regal, royal little princess… his happiness was more than he could bear!

Queen Elinor too was delighted, but something in her manner was somewhat chilly and reserved. From time to time she glanced towards Caroline. Though she wasn't entirely certain what was wrong, Caroline was nearly paralyzed with a strange feeling of fear that she couldn't manage to shake. The horrible range of emotions she had gone through that night had left her nearly a nervous wreck.

"We must find her at once," the king was saying eagerly. "Oh, I am so proud of you, my son!"

"Caroline," Queen Elinor advanced towards her. "Come with me, Caroline. I must speak with you. Privately."

Caroline shot a glance towards John. He looked back at her for a moment, then turned away again. Reluctantly, Caroline nodded assent and followed the queen from the room.

oOo

"I am aware," the queen began as she seated herself regally on the Turkish divan in her private sitting room. "That you refused to dance with Prince Daniel of Neuburg tonight. Is this true?"

"It is true, your majesty," Caroline returned quietly. She made no move toward the chair the queen had indicated, but stood, determined to remain calm.

"And why should you do this?"

"I… I had not wanted to dance this evening…"

"That is not true. You did dance this evening. And with whom? With a servant!"

"Your Majesty, I…"

"No, Caroline. It will do no good to protest. I was afraid something like this would happen. Fool I was to not have seen it sooner. Well, something must be done. At once."

"Done, your majesty?" Caroline felt her heart sinking in fear.

"Indeed." the queen paused. "I'm sorry, Caroline, my dear, I don't want to hurt you. But this is truly for your own good. You'll thank me some day, by and by, when you come to your senses and see what a dreadful mistake you nearly made."

"I… I don't understand," Caroline faltered.

"It's John." the queen replied. "You simply cannot spend any more time with him."

"But… Aunt Elinor!" Caroline cried. "John is… is a good friend! He's been a good friend ever since I arrived here, six years ago! I…" her voice trailed away, for she found she could not continue.

"Yes, I know." Queen Elinor shook her head wearily. "I'm sorry, Caroline, but I'm afraid I must forbid you to ever be with him again."

For a moment, the room was as silent as the grave. Both women stared at each other, Elinor with firm resolve, Caroline with increasing horror.

"What?" Caroline gasped, her face ashen.

"In fact," the queen continued. "I forbid you to even speak to him again."

"You can't do that!"

"My dear!" Queen Elinor looked at her in surprise. "Have you forgotten that I am the queen? Of course I can do that!"

"But…" Caroline felt her knees give way beneath her and she sank to the floor. Looking up at her aunt entreatingly, she clasped her hands and all but begged.

"Please, Aunt Elinor, please don't forbid me! I couldn't live without his friendship!" She continued, almost wildly, not even thinking. "Please don't do this to me… to us! I... love him!" she threw back her head, gasping as she said the words. She would have given anything at the next moment to unsay them for the queen's anger was piqued.

"Love him!" she cried. "Love him! A servant! How dare you stoop so low! You are a lady… a niece to the king himself! You must marry, indeed, a prince, a duke, an earl, a knight, anything but… a servant! How could you, Caroline? How could you?" There were tears in the queen's eyes as she paused and slumped back onto the divan from which she had half-risen in her outburst.

"This is what must be done, Caroline. And I will do it." she spoke more calmly now, more slowly. "If ever you are seen with him again, if ever you say one word to him, he will be sent away. So far away that you will never see him again. Is this understood?"

Caroline did not answer. Like one in a trance, she rose, shakily, reaching out to the wall for support. Ignoring her aunt's entreaties and repeated apologies, she found the door and moved out into the corridor. No one followed her, no one tried to stop her, as she moved down the hall, entered her room, bolted the door behind her and… reckless of her fine silk gown, threw herself face down on her bed and burst into tears.