The rumbling of the wheels on the beaten grooved road, the sound of wood grinding and crushing dirt and pebbled stone beneath them echoed within the wagon. The rickety bumpy jostling of the wagon had been jarring to the women, and now the motion of it, the sounds, the heat within, it all had lulled Esme into a light sleep. She had welcomed the kindness of the woman next to her, leaned against her, smelled the scent of lavender which perfumed her body, and although she did not mean to close her eyes and sleep, she did. Perhaps it was her tired state, the anxiety that overwhelmed and gripped her in being chosen as a wife for His Majesty, or maybe it was the stranger stroking her auburn tresses that made her drift into sleep. She knew not, and for many long minutes Esme enjoyed the blissfulness of sleep. That ended all suddenly.<br/><br/>She awoke sliding and tumbling from one side of the wagon to the other, bumping into others, struggling to remain uninjured, struggling to figure out what had happened until the shout of “Dragon” boomed throughout the air by a guard. In the moments that passed, all in fearful confusion, there were screams from men and women as the struggle for survival and freedom began. Like others that were travelling with her, those condemned to be the King's wives, Esme broke free of the wagon shortly before it was washed in flames.<br/><br/>Standing near the opening of the woods, Esme was in awe of the dragon. Although she was compelled to flee, she forced herself to remain and search for her toad. Her beloved little creature whom she cared so deeply for remained caged with a guard who looked extraordinarily capable. Lowly, she cursed, and  disappeared into the forest. There was little else she could do.