When Pip got backstage, he shook off his embarrassment at coming a cropper on a potted plant by patting Gilbert, quietly telling him he been the best possible horse a mouse could ever be.

Yves gave his own horse a treat, and said, "Raven, you were magnificent. You could earn a living as a circus rider with a little more instruction."

Pip put his arms around the harlequin and hugged him tightly. "Thanks Yves, I couldn't have done it without you," he said.

"Raven, my friend, if you would ever care to - '' Yves began, when a very grand-looking messenger approached and he stopped mid-sentence, so Pip never did discover what Yves was going to say.

The messenger made a polite amount of noise until Pip turned around. "Miss LaMidnight? The prince would be honoured if you could grant him a short private meeting."

Pip's eyes opened wide in shock, and he began stammering that he couldn't, he wasn't properly dressed, he wasn't used to this –

''Please, Miss LaMidnight. You look charming, and the prince will take up just a few minutes of your time," said the messenger, who was used to people falling to pieces at being asked to meet royalty, and knew they sometimes needed gentle coaxing.

''Alright," Pip quavered, and allowed himself to be led to a quiet nook far away from everyone else, where the prince was waiting, wearing evening dress, and looking rather nervous himself.

The messenger discreetly left, after having received a nod from the prince. The prince stood near a lantern, and Pip couldn't help noticing that the prince's hair, longer and wavier than before, had a russet sheen under lighting. It was once again in a bit of a mess.

''Your Majesty," Pip said, and dipped into a curtsy. It was a very good curtsy for a first attempt, but a little graceless for someone who was presumably experienced at it.

''Miss LaMidnight. Enchanted," said the prince, bowing over Pip's hand to kiss it. ''Please, sit with me."

The prince gestured to a wooden bench near a garden bed, and Pip sat down, smoothing out his fluffy skirt, and trying to keep his legs together. His hand tingled from where the prince's lips had touched it.

The prince sat down next to him once Pip looked settled, but didn't seem sure how to begin. He glanced shyly at Pip, then quickly looked away, as if searching for inspiration elsewhere.

The prince coughed once or twice, then said, "It's a nice night for it."

"A nice night for what?" asked Pip in confusion.

"A nice night for the entertainment," said the prince, with a guileless expression. "It's wonderful to experience a Lindensea spring again, after so many years in the ice and snow."

"Yes, it's a lovely evening," Pip said, unable to believe they were talking about the weather.

There was a minute of silence, and then the prince turned to Pip abruptly, as if the social niceties had now been satisfied.

"Miss LaMidnight, I do hope my offering of flowers did not offend you. My equerry said that you did not take them, and seemed rather ... upset."

Pip held his head up. He knew that if he looked at the prince's face, he would not be able to  speak his heart, and concentrated his gaze instead on the brass epaulettes decorating the shoulders of the prince's rust-coloured cloak.

"Sir, my old granny warned me about ladies and gentlemen who offer fine gifts," he said, with the trace of a tremble in his voice.

The prince looked horrified.

"Miss LaMidnight, it was not that sort of gift," he said seriously, leaning towards Pip. "It was offered in admiration of your talent, and in appreciation for the way you stepped in at the last minute to perform. You made my night – made everyone's night."

"Oh. Well, I really did want the Amazing Sasha to have the roses,  Pip said. "Without her, I could have done nothing." He didn't add that he had no way of taking the flowers home, in any case.

"It was a very gracious gesture," the prince said warmly.

"I'm afraid I didn't behave very graciously," Pip said with a regretful pout. "I went off in a huff, and tripped over a potted shrub."

"Trust me, I know all about tripping over things," the prince said feelingly, before adding, "Miss LaMidnight, I think that I may have got off on the wrong foot with you. May I have your permission to start again?"

Pip smiled, and said, "You do, sir."

The prince closed his eyes for a few moments, then opened them before turning to Pip and saying, "Miss LaMidnight, it is a very great pleasure to meet you." He took Pip's hand and kissed it, a little more softly than the first time.

Pip felt fluttery inside, and wondered if the prince had come up with an excuse to kiss him again, as he replied, "The pleasure is all mine, your Majesty."

"Miss LaMidnight, you are beautiful. I mean, you ride beautifully. That is, you are a wonderful horse rider," said the prince, getting flustered.

"Thank you, sir," said Pip demurely, looking down at his boots. He inwardly preened at hearing the prince stumble over calling him beautiful.

"Please don't call me sir," said the prince earnestly. "Won't you call me by my name, Miss LaMidnight?"

Pip flushed. He had heard the prince's name many times, but never before said it aloud. "Thank you, Prince ... Prince Bernard."

"I'd be so glad if you would just call me Bernard," the prince said gently.

Pip smiled. "I will, if you call me Raven."

"Of course, Raven. A lovely name for a lovely ... er, lady."

"Thank you ... Bernard," said Pip, thinking their conversation seemed very stilted compared to the easy way he and Rue had chatted together.

"I believe you were trained by Sasha herself, Miss ... I mean, Raven?"

"No, the Master of Ceremonies was stretching the truth a very long way," said Pip, glad to put this to rights. "I once saw her perform, and taught myself a few of the tricks I'd seen."

"That's even more remarkable," said Bernard. "I also like riding. I'm not as accomplished as you, of course, but I'm pretty good. I won a race once."

Pip wondered if Bernard was trying to impress him. He's a prince, for the gods' sake, Pip thought in amazement. He lived in a palace and was heir to the kingdom - why did he feel the need to impress a lowly bareback rider?

''Actually there were only two of us in the race," Bernard confessed in a rush. ''And the other person didn't turn up, so I won by forfeit."

''You probably shouldn't tell people that part," giggled Pip.

''No, I shouldn't," smiled Bernard. Pip thought how sweet his smile was. ''You're welcome to any of the palace horses, if you'd ever like to ride me. I mean, ride with me."

''Perhaps one day," said Pip. ''I hardly know you at present, nor you me."

''Of course," Bernard said, seeming to feel the rebuke. ''I would like to know you better, Raven."

''You might not like what you discovered," Pip said softly, looking down at the paving beneath them.

''I'm sure I would," said Bernard, gazing at Pip as if he had never before seen someone like him. ''Actually, my birthday is Monday week. I was wondering if you'd like to come. That is, come to my birthday party."

"Would Princess Dorothea like that?" asked Pip with a raised eyebrow. "Or King Peter?"

Bernard got a stubborn look on his face. "It's my birthday party, and I can ask whomever I like. It's nothing much. Just a few friends, a bit of music and dancing, and there'll be food and drink, and all the usual things."

Pip hesitated, so Bernard took an invitation and a pencil out of his pocket. He hastily wrote Miss Raven LaMidnight into the space for the guest's name, and handed it to him.

"Please consider it," he said, looking at Pip pleadingly. "It would mean the world to me if you came."

"I'll think about it," said Pip at last, not wanting to disappoint Bernard, but not able to see how it could possibly be arranged.

"Thank you," said Bernard. "Now, would you care to accompany me to the royal seating, and we'll watch the fireworks together?"

"Oh no, the fireworks!" Pip said in a panic.

"Sorry?"

"I really can't. My godfather has put me under a curse, I mean under a curfew, and I must be home by twelve, or else!" Pip turned to make his escape.

"Wait ... you have a godfather? Or else what?" asked Bernard distractedly, but Pip was already legging it out of the courtyard, tripping over his high-heeled boots almost immediately.

"Bye, Bernard!" he called as he ran away.

"Raven!" Bernard cried. "Come back!"

But it was too late. The bird had flown.