The young woman's foot narrowly missed landing on a sharp rock, which, in her thin, travel-worn slippers would have proved rather painful, though she did not take notice. Her eyes were fastened straight ahead of her, on the Castle rising over the horizon, commanding everyone within sight to gaze upon it in wonder. In the light of the rising sun, it appeared to have a pinkish hue to it. She had been traveling without food for three days now, stopping only to sate her thirst from streams she happened across. Her dress was an old one, gray in color, with holes and patches in it. She had a pack on her back, though its' contents were few: three thin dresses (she was never one to wear stockings or petticoats-petticoats!), a weeks worth of clean underwear, some hair ribbons, a brown blanket, and a mysterious bundle.

Her dark, furious red hair was loose and flowing down her back, as she hadn't bothered to tie it back or brush it. After all, who was there to see it? And what did she care if someone thought she looked like a banshee? The answers were zero. Zero people, and zero cares.

Her foot landed painfully on a rock. She fell unceremoniously to the ground and removed her left slipper, examining her foot. There was a small cut. Sighing, she slipped her shoe back on. These were not traveling shoes, to be sure. Already their bright green had faded to a paler green, but the most prominent color was brown. Brown from mud and dust. She cast a baleful look at the sky. Clouds there were many, and though they were painted lovely pinks, purples, and oranges, there was no denying the fact that they would soon be dark grey. She only hoped she would be safely in the Castle by the time they decided to dump their load. Sighing, she stood up and re-adjusted the straps of her pack, and strode purposefully forward.

Agatha peered curiously at the girl. She seemed familiar, though Agatha knew she had not met this girl before. No, she would remember seeing hair that long and thick. It was a most startling shade of red, not the orange that gingers swore up and down was red, nor was it the red that seemed brown unless the sun hit it just right. No, it was red. Her eyes and mouth were what Agatha found so familiar. Her eyes seemed to change colors with nearly every movement of her head, first a amber color, then brown. Then, surprisingly, green. Always though, the golden lines coming out from her pupils like suns rays were present. Her lips were a soft pink, like a rosebud, and heart shaped (though not unpleasantly so-he bottom lip did not curve like most peoples; instead sloped vertically to a soft point). Her hands were fair and slender, like a pianists. Curiously, they were not calloused, so logically Agatha had deduced she was not a farmers daughter, if slightly bronzed skin had anything to say in the matter. The slight color of the girl showed that she did not spend an abundance of time out-of-doors, though she was not necessarily cooped up inside like some Ladies preferred to be.

The girl had stumbled into the castle, slightly leaning on a guard and pre-accompanied by the pageboy who had fetch Agatha two or three hours after sunrise. Agatha had instantly seen that this girl was fatigued and famished, and had quickly ushered her into the Great Hall for breakfast. Whether or not the girl had broken her fast did not matter; she was clearly under-fed.

The girl was now heaping honey on her bread. A look of pure ecstasy flickered across her face when she bit into the sweet treat. Agatha waited until the girl had finished slowly devouring her bread slice, nodded curtly when the girl heisitantly looked her way when reaching for another piece. While the girl was slathering honey and butter on her soon-to-be meal, she asked finally,

"If I may inquire, who are you, and what is your business in High Castle?"

The girl finished spreading the toppings on her bread and carefully laid the knife on the side of her plate. "My name is Briseis. My business is with Fence."

Agatha looked closely at the girl. Briseis met her gaze unwaveringly. Unable to stand her golden gaze any longer, Agatha looked down at her wine goblet and brought it slowly to her lips. When she sat it down, she asked Briseis if she would need a room to stay in, and for how long. Briseis replied that she would, and did not know how long she would be staying, but of course she would not linger long enough as to over exhaust her welcome. When the girl finished eating her meal, Agatha led her to what would be her chambers for the unknown period of time.

AN: Sorry this chapter was so short. I hope you like it so far. Please, please review! I was looking through the other FF's of the Secret Country trilogy and discovered there was a shocking lack of stories. None of them were long enough to satisfy my Secret Country FF wants, so I decided to write one myself. Just a pre-warning, there will be some hostility between Ruth and Briseis.
Also, Briseis is pronounced "Bree-say-iss." Soft "s" at the end. Hopefully more chapters soon... and once again, please review!(: