A/N: Thank you for all the reviews I've received so far. I hope that as the story lines gets farther along, you'll enjoy it more. Also, in response to Fanboy 123's question: for what I have so far, you'll see familiar Eldest settings and plot around Arya's return to the Varden after the Blood Oath. I'm going to have to really pin down on the timeline, though, because a lot happens in these books in so little time, and I'm not here to copy and paste a bunch of events that CP wrote. Which means for the readers, once the initial ride begins, the drag with hopefully be minimum and exciting; I'm planning on doing some Arya POV's also b/c she is probably the most effected by my adding my OC's into the mix.

I thought much on those last words. I couldn't ask more because the twins intervened and had the soldiers continue on to the throne room. But I was so confused. Escape? I was the Princess; how in Alagaësia was I supposed to escape from my own home? There was nowhere to go.

This was how I found myself walking through the gardens. The pale moon cascaded over rose petals and tulips; colors became pastel and romantic. Only a slight breeze ran through the leaves and stems, washing with it the floral essence of pollen. I sat on a metal bench, shivering slightly at the cold bite. An obsidian beetle scattered over the smooth surface, its shell gleaming in the pallid light.

My eyes roamed to where Murtagh had been taken, and then moved up to where Father's tower stood – the largest and tallest of the towers due to the dragon hold that surrounded and engulfed it like a mountain.

Do not wary your heart over what you cannot change, the warm, deep tones of Shruikan traversed the walls of my mind as if he were soothing a small child.

I dipped my chin. Aye, you are right.

Your mother worries for you child; perhaps it is time to retire? It wasn't so much of a question as it was a request, but I swelled in the illusion of the choice.

Aye.

It was like poking a hole in the bottom of a cup and draining it of all liquid – lighter, easier – when he left. He was the only dragon I had ever privileged my presence to, but he was also the only dragon I ever wanted to meet. The species was too alien to wrap my mind around, and if they were anything like Shruikan, I would be terrified to my death.

I sighed, tapping my toes on the consistent cobblestone. I rose, taking a last sweet breath of the air, and stepped forward.

Suddenly, my foot jerked forward. The air gasped. Something scuffled, and I made out a vague black shape in the darkness.

"Stop!" I ordered.

The gasp came again, faster – shocked. It skidded to a stop in a patch of light and tensed for the final blow.

With a cautious step, I moved toward the boxy, leggy shape. It was a man dressed in complete black, including his face. But the cloth was dirtied and sewn in uneven strips. The mask especially was loose and flimsy in seam. It was as if he had gathered this black material like one gathered fallen wheat after harvest. He sucked in gulps of air, and the sound was loud and obnoxious.

"Who are you?" I inquired.

The man's breathing calmed until I could no longer hear it, and he turned to me. His eyes were an even green that pooled intense emotion, and he looked as if he were trying to read my mind; yet I felt no intrusion.

He was too quiet now.

"Who are you?"

"Daman Jespersson."

My eyebrow rose into a smooth curve. "Well, then, Daman; what business have you traipsing about this hour?"

His eyes glanced away and then back. "I am out running a message for my master; he wishes not to let it be known that of which I inquire, so he asked of me to create this assemble." He emitted a soft sound that resembled a swallow.

I nodded, stepping closer and into the clearer light. "Remove your mask."

Daman shook his head, and a wild fear sparked in his eyes when he fully saw me. "Princess! Oh, you're the princess!" He was quite the opposite of pleased. And he stumbled back when I reached out to grab his face. "Princess, pardon me, but please allow me to keep this secrecy."

Frustration welled up in my chest, but I pushed it back and struggled for decorum. "If you must; can you not at least reveal to me whom your master is?"

Once more, he shook his head. "He would be very sore with me should I reveal his identity."

"Is he abusive to you?" I filed in my mind the nobles of whom I suspected of such acts. Edrolph was among them.

Daman continued shaking his head, and it was getting desperate. "No, Princess. Please, do not worry yourself over this. 'Tis nothing of the matter."

'Princess' was beginning to grate against my ear. I tried to ignore the building irritation. "Well, then; he must trust you very much. This message of yours must be the upmost of importance."

He nodded. "Aye, Princess, and I be much obliged if you would let me continue with it."

And then I thought of something. My arms crossed over my chest and curiosity hummed in my blood like a purr.

Perhaps… just for a day…?

Daman began turning on his heel to leave when I called out for him again. He lost his balance mid-stride and fell into the corner of a garden box. Against the black cloth, he gave a muffled cry and clutched his thigh.

I winced, and then realized he probably would not be much help after all. He was a servant, and, with my luck, had seen as much of the 'outside' as I.

That's when the chord of ringing metal jostled my instincts. I looked down, and there, rolling on its side, was a solid gold goblet.

Daman was ice on the ground. His eyes widened at the object that soaked the color of the moon. Then he looked up at me, terror saturating the green rims.

I picked it up, felt the contours and bends. Cold and weighty. I lifted it towards him. "Care to explain this?"

He groaned, pressing his forehead into the grainy stone of the garden box. With exaggerated slowness, he meandered to his feet, and I watched as his hand grasped a pouch at his side to keep it from swinging. Its contents protruded the bottom in the shape of coins. Gold coins, no doubt.

He cleared his throat, and, when he spoke, his voice held depths of sorrow and contusions that pierced my heart. "I stole it."

I had a choice then. Turn him in – for he should be punished for petty thievery.

Or release him.

You don't know what's out there. The farther you go past Urû'baen, the more pain and suffering you shall witness.

Perhaps this was the proof that Murtagh was correct. What else but pain and suffering would leave my father's own subjects to try and plunder his home?

And then, I was decided.

I stepped much closer to him, and when I did, he stiffened and leaned away. I expected him to bolt like a frightened horse.

"Please," he said. "I have a little sister that I have to provide for; there is no work for me to earn money for food, and I cannot join the army for fear of leaving her to her death. I watch over an elderly woman as well, and she is crippled. She can do needle work, but we have no more thread and no money to purchase it. Please, Your Highness, have mercy upon me." His had pinched closed his eyes as if it would suppress the inevitable reality before him and turned his face from with shame.

"Remove your mask." I did not order it; my voice remained flat yet confident.

Daman curled gloved fingers beneath the tattered edges of the cloth and pulled it off and over a honey blonde head. His hair fell into his face, and he pushed it back behind his ear. He opened his green eyes, and they were wary as they waited, uncertain but fearing my will. He pursed his lips as if to hold off from begging more, and I noticed the pink skin there was chapped and frayed. The cheekbones under his eyes were defined and strong; a smudge of dirt blended in the sandy skin on his left.

Scruffy and unruly, yet handsome in a roughish way I had not seen before.

I offered a relaxing smile, but Daman only tensed further. "I will not hurt you, Daman. You have the word of the princess."

His mouth parted, eyes gaped.

"On one condition."

He deflated once more.

"Tomorrow, in the very early morning, you return here and let me come with you."

"But–" His voice choked off with such shock.

I shook my head. "It will only be for a day. A… friend of mine made me quite curious as to the essence of the very city I live in. Show me where you come from, and I will let this incident of the night slip entirely from my memory."

Daman frowned, an ounce of fear trickling in return. "How would you go about unnoticed? You have the serene grace and beauty that is appraised to you only. One needs not to have ever seen a portrait of you to know that you are the princess of Alagaësia."

"I have means," I lied.

He scrutinized me a moment before sighing and nodding in agreement. "As you wish, Princess, I shall meet you here in the gardens at daybreak. Any later, and we might not make it out quite so smoothly."

"Wonderful; goodnight to you then, Daman."

He grimaced and bowed. "Goodnight, Princess."

Evelyn gave a small shriek of fright when I slipped into my bedroom. From her fingers dropped my favored brush, and I noticed the scatter of items on my vanity table. "Gwen! Princess!" She shook her head and attempted a smile. "Where were you? It's after dark, and you know how your moth–"

"I was out taking a walk in the gardens," I said. Then I motioned toward the vanity. "Where you… organizing my things?"

Her cheeks reddened like a burn of the sun. "I hope mi'lady does not mind?"

I stroked her soft hair, a soft smile playing on my lips. "Gwen does not mind at all if Evelyn should decide to assist her. Wonderful girl." I picked up the brush and set it on the table. "Now get me ready for bed; I am quite exhausted."

Evelyn's natural smile returned at the task, and once the routine was complete, I sat in a cushioned chair with Evelyn pulling brush bristles through my wet hair.

"I have an engagement in the morning, Evelyn, that will take me through the entire day," I said.

She nodded in the mirror, copper eyes trained in on the inky locks now as straight and supple as fat thread.

I continued. "Edrolph, nor Mother is to know that I am gone."

"May I ask why?" The girl paused in her draw back.

"You may, but I will not answer. Rest assured I will return by nightfall."

"As you will, mi'lady." She set down the brush and began threading her fingers through my hair. The familiar tug and turn as she braided pulled at my scalp, and the motion was soothing. "Also, your mother wished to see you before you retire; she–"

The door swung open, and Evelyn's fingers stuttered.

Mother's face bunched in sharp dives and dragon's fire, but when her eyes found me in my nightgown, hair partly braided, her frown softened and the fire dimmed.

"Mother, Evelyn says you wished to speak with me?"

She nodded. "Have you heard the news?"

"No, mother; what news?"

Mother eyed Evelyn, and the girl shrunk under her scrutiny. She tied a ribbon knot on the braid and excused herself with a curtsy. Once my bedroom door gave a soft click, Mother whisked me from my vanity and to my goose-feathered bed. "Why you still keep that girl, I will never know."

I scooted under the heavy covers. "I can trust her, Mother, and we are dear friends."

Mother tucked the blankets around me until she was satisfied – the process took around five minutes depending on the night. "She's barely fifteen; you need a woman whom can discuss with you womanhood and how to deal with a husband."

"I am fine, Mother."

She shook her head. "Fine, fine; it was not the matter I came tonight to discuss anyhow." She sat herself beside my shoulder and patted my hair. "Murtagh has returned. With him reaches news that the rebellion in the south is growing swifter."

"Growing?" South – that's where Murtagh had said for me to go.

Mother nodded, frowning as if she had upset me. Her hand brushed the side of my face. "But do not worry, for they will never succeed. Murtagh tells us their Dragon Rider was seriously injured in the battle the Varden have just won."

I blinked. "How dangerous is it down there?"

"There, there; do not worry yourself." Mother removed her hand and stood up. "And before I go, I suppose Edrolph already told you of his new position?"

"Aye, Mother."

"Well, then. I pray that your relationship stays intact with such a development. Good night; I love you." She leaned down and kissed my cheek.

"I love you, too, Mother."

A/N: The Motivation button is calling you…