Alright everyone bonus chapter is up as I've promised! Now, some questions from the previous chapters. Why didn't the elves figure out Eragon's identity since the elves on the fringe did? Answer— the elves had trusted the elves at the post in Ceris to not let any traitors enter Ellesméra and they had thought Eragon a good person since he was allowed passage to Ellesméra by Gilderien the Wise. Nor did they give it much thought at the sight of their princess. And another thing, Vanir will not reveal the void he will help with his actions as I should say. But no more hints! And the next chapter shall be Arya POV. So watch out everyone! RR!

Having finished recording the funds, Desdemona gently closed the book of records that she kept. Lord Gabranth did not bother with such matters and Lady Selena usually did not care anymore than her son did. However, that was not the reason why she took the responsibility of it into her own hands. She did it to feel useful. More so than Finny and Bard, who simply destroyed the castle with their antics. This week alone, Finny had taken large chunks out of three different walls and Bard had blown up the kitchen using his magic. And Rosalie, who was usually very graceful, had been run over by an excited Finny and Bard chasing one another. The expensive tea set in her hands had ended up crashing to the ground. The expenses to replace it were high, not to mention it was Lady Selena's favorite set.

Desdemona sighed. She had not been born a servant girl, quite the opposite really. She was daughter to a nobleman. But how did she end up serving Lord Gabranth? It was because of her father's love for money. He had sold her to an earl who was enchanted by her beauty, her very capable talents in magic and skill with a sword. She was, as Desdemona had remembered him calling her, 'a maiden that had been created to perfection by god'. However, she was against the idea, against marrying a man whom she did not know, or playing mistress to him.

It was over three years ago since she had been taken to Lord Gabranth's castle for refugee.

Struggling against the silver cords that bound her, Desdemona felt the taste of fear for the first time in her life. She had never been afraid much, being born to a wealthy nobleman and raised in a castle with guards and servants made her ignorant to the dark world outside of her walls. The chamber in which she was held was a chamber for the dead; skeletons and bodies laid about the ground. Now she lay bound on top of a crypt. She had been force-fed a poison that prevented her from performing magic. The silver cords had such strong spells of protection on them that no matter how hard she struggled, they would not break.

That man, she thought darkly, I will never swear an oath to him! Earl Drewt had bound her thus, hoping the dead would frighten her. That she would eventually tire and swear to him in the ancient language her loyalty to him. Desdemona had to admit that she was growing weary of seeing and smelling the dead bodies. No one would find her down here. Her voice would not carry up the spiral steps, no matter how hard she screamed.

Another aspect that made her restless was the fact that she lost track of time in the dark chamber that was her prison. It was constantly dark and she had begun to think that time had stopped moving for her all together. That was until her savior had come to rescue her. He was dressed in such dark armor that she had not noticed him at first when he had stepped down from the last step of the spiral staircase.

"What do you want?" Desdemona asked, her lips curling into a ferocious snarl. But he did not answer; instead he walked closer to her, the metal of his armor clinking against itself. A hand reached out and lightly fingered her cords.

"A strong spell," he said. What he did next surprised her. Letting his hand hover above her silver cords, he said roughly, "Jierda!" A blue spark of magic jumped from the palm of his hand and onto the cords breaking them. The metal slid from her body, rendered useless. She felt so relieved that it made her lightheaded.

Swinging her legs to the side of the crypt, she made to stand, only to find her feet unsteady from their disuse. She did not have to worry about that for long, however, as the armored man swept her into his arms. Without a word, he ascended the spiral staircase. She did not know what had happened afterwards, but when she blinked tiredly, she found herself lying on a red lavish bed, the sheets tucked about her. A beautiful woman with red hair, about her age, bustled about the room.

"How are you feeling?" the woman asked. "Tired? Hungry?"

"Confused." Came her answer as she sat up on the bed.

"I'll bet you are," the woman said. "I'm Rosalie by the way."

"Desdemona, where am I?" She glanced around the room, it was unfamiliar to her.

"In Lord Gabranth's castle."

Lord Gabranth? The name sounded familiar. Desdemona tiredly rubbed her hand over her face. "He rescued you from Earl Drewt's castle when he went to visit the earl. You fainted before he brought you here."

"Oh," so the man who had rescued her was Lord Gabranth. "Where is he?" Desdemona asked.

"In his study," Rosalie answered, handing her a cup of hot tea. "It'll get your mind refreshed. Drink up." And she did. The tea was delicious. Raspberry with a hint of honey. With some directions from Rosalie she had managed to find the study with ease, knocking before she entered.

The image before her had surprised her. She had expected a man her age to have rescued her, but instead a young boy sat behind the dark maple table, flipping through a book and marking it with a quill. He was incredibly handsome for a boy, but in an unnatural way. His ears were pointed and his eyes slanted. He did not glance up when she entered.

"I see you're awake."

"Thank you," Desdemona said; though her nature was never one to be thankful. She had rarely expressed gratitude in her life, had never needed to be grateful for anything. But this boy had drawn the desire to do so from her. "For saving me."

He nodded. "Do you plan on leaving? If you do I will not stop you. But if you would rather I hire you, then I shall, for you have skill with magic and the sword, so I have heard."

Desdemona considered his offer. Hire her? She had no experience serving other people. Her arrogant attitude had made her intimidating among her peers. But looking at Lord Gabranth, she felt as if she could serve him without issue. He had never once looked at her like other men did, showed no interest in her beauty, had given no notice that she stood before him. For some reason, she felt deeply connected to him. "If you will hire me, my skills are yours."

She opened the door to his study, carrying a teacup in her hands. He sat behind his maple desk, his helm resting on the wood, a book in front of him as he read. Desdemona smiled; an expression that she rarely bestowed upon anyone. But the past three years had been wonderful and she had grown to love living with Lord Gabranth — it was very enjoyable. "Tea, Lord Gabranth? Raspberry with a hint of honey."

He glanced up at her briefly before drinking it. "Thank you, Desdemona."

Unlike before, he had taken notice of her, had looked at her. Smiling at him, she retreated from his study leaving him alone to read in peace.

So, what did you think? Like it? Review. But now our goal is 300 reviews and then we have Bard and Rosalie left to read about. But I'm pretty sure I'll be done by then. And see you at the next chapter! Arya POV! I'm sure you're all excited about that.