"Pregnant wit 'is child." The words echoed in Rose's head as she fled out of the house.

Her father had tried to stop her, but Rose didn't even give him a chance. He couldn't chase after her because he couldn't leave her mother all by herself.

There was no reason her father would lie but Rose had to see for herself before she believed what she had heard. There was some mix-up or misunderstanding, she was sure of it. There was no way the two most important people to her after her parents would do something like that together.

She could understand Ander getting married, after all they should have married a long time ago, and who knew when the crown prince was going to let her go. Her excuse didn't make much sense, she knew, but she could still understand.

However, for both of them to equally betray her, Rose couldn't believe it. She had to see it for herself before she could believe something like that. It was just impossible for her to believe without proof; she was certain there would be a reasonable explanation. Something that would make sense of this situation.

Rose didn't head for Emma's family house, which was right behind hers, rather she headed for Ander's, which was two streets away. If they were truly married that's where they would both be.

Rose untied her horse and mounted it quickly. The horse had been left out in the cold, eating the frozen grass but it didn't seem to be bothered by that. She didn't have a stable and would eventually have to take the horse somewhere safe and warm.

It was easier to get to Ander using the horse and she needed to get there as fast as she could.

Rose was riding faster than she needed to but she couldn't stop herself. She concentrated all her thoughts on riding as anything else was too painful.

The horse took the last bend and soon enough Rose approached Ander's house. She caught sight of the fence she had gone over to see him that night. Rose felt her head ring, it hurt too much. She could feel it all over her chest to her head.

She led the horse to the front of the gates. It was big enough to let a small carriage through, though Ander's family didn't own one. They had a horse which belonged to his father, and they had several farm animals but no carriage.

Rose got off the horse in one stealthy movement. She was pretty used to getting on and off horses now. She rushed forward banging on the wooden gates, not caring that the horse might wander away if she left it untied.

The horse was still for a moment then it moved about as neighbors started to notice the commotion and drew closer but none tried to speak to her directly.

"Is tha Rose, tha one wit a sick mot'er?"

"I told ye Rose 'as returned. Did 'er really think 'er would return like nothin' 'appened?"

Rose banged the gates again but she still didn't get any response. Her heart sank deeper. She banged the gates until her palms turned red and they started to sting.

"Have some guts to face me!" Rose yelled as her legs gave out from underneath her. She fell to the cold floor, her forehead resting on the cold wooden gates and her legs on the snow.

Her face felt wet, she was crying. She could hear voices behind her and she knew she was making a spectacle of herself but right now, her pride was the last thing that mattered.

None of the villagers approached, they just stayed at a distance staring and gossiping in the cold. The villagers weren't all nice to her. Her mother was sick with an illness that wouldn't heal. In a village like hers that was enough for ridicule.

It also didn't help that her mother was an orphan raised by her grandmother, who died just before Rose was born, and to top it all up, her father was an outsider.

These were more than enough reasons for the villagers to stay clear of her and for little kids to bully her, but Rose was resilient and didn't let any of these things bother her.

She was about to start pleading, saying something along the lines that she understood, when she heard the sounds of the wooden gates opening. She got to her feet immediately and wiped her cold tears.

The doors opened revealing Ander's mother. Ander didn't bear much resemblance to his mother. His mother was mostly soft-spoken unless someone stepped on her garden. She was hardly recognizable when this happened.

"Madame Oliver," Rose whispered with water in her eyes.

"Oh, ye poor lass," the woman said with sympathy. "I 'eard ye returned. I could scarcely believe mi ears."

Rose nodded but she wasn't the least interested in pleasantries. She was certain the woman knew why she was here, and it had taken longer than necessary for someone to come to the gates.

"Yes," she tried to reply as politely as possible. "Is Ander home?"

"Ye don't look as bad as I imagined. I am glad," she said instead of answering her question.

Rose nodded and tried to look past his mother, but she didn't move from the entrance, and by the looks of things she had no intention of inviting Rose in.

"Thank you. I'd like to see Ander, please?" Rose knew her eyes still looked red and she was once again on the verge of crying.

"Ander isn't 'ere," she replied.

Rose's face fell. Without a single doubt, she knew the woman was lying. "Is that so? Then what about Emma?" Rose felt like throwing up as she asked the question.

"Ye 'ave 'eard. Tis unfortunate but I am afraid tha is tha situation now. Ander is married and ye 'ave to let it go."

Rose closed her eyes briefly. "I just want to hear it from them. I am not asking for too much, am I?"

"'Ear it from…" Madame Oliver paused, looking very irritated. "Do ye tink I am lyin' to ye?"

"No, no. He is my fiancé, I just want to—"

"Was!" Madame Oliver corrected. "Was! No son of mine will marry a 'arlot."

Rose staggered. It felt as though she had been slapped. In their eyes, she was nothing more than a whore. It felt like someone had stabbed a thousand needles into her heart.

Rose leaned forward as it suddenly felt hard to breathe. The stares behind her felt like they might pierce through her back. She struggled to get her breathing under control and slowly lifted her head.

"Thank you," she said, feeling the tears dry in her eyes.

There was no point crying over spilt milk nor was there a reason to prove herself to such people. The betrayal was hard to take but it wasn't like she could have come back and married Ander, perhaps this was good.

Madame Oliver looked shocked at her response but Rose had already turned away with a dazed look in her eyes. She didn't even bother looking for the horse. She just started walking in the direction of her house.

"Rosie," Emma called.