The Truth About Lies (An Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction)

My head was pounding and my muscles were aching when I awoke the next morning. Who knew that dancing the night away could have that kind of effect? I was feeling emotionally drained as well, after crying myself to sleep the night before. It seemed that no matter how hard I tried, I wasn't over the loss of Murtagh. His memory still haunted me like a ghost.

After I was dressed in my normal attire of a dark blue tunic and leather breeches, I trudged out of my room and headed down to the kitchens. The house was eerily silent after the cacophony of the night before, and the sun was just barely rising in the east. The servants in the kitchen were bustling about preparing an after-ball breakfast. I bade them a good morning and then swiped a wedge of yellow cheese and half a loaf of bread. With my impromptu breakfast in tow, I headed out the side door to the garden. The garden here was bigger than the one at his house in the city, but just as grand and beautiful. I planted myself beneath the shade of a broadleaf tree and munched on the cheese lazily, enjoying the rising heat of the day.

The sun had risen sufficiently in the sky by the time Braeden found me beneath the large maple. "Good morning, Tabatha," he called, a kind smile donned on his face.

"And to you, Lord Braeden," I replied.

"Did you enjoy yourself last night?" He lowered himself to the ground next to me and leaned up against the trunk of the tree. "Count Evander seemed to be quite taken with you."

I snorted slightly at that. "Yes, I enjoyed myself immensely. The count was attentive and kind, but I don't foresee anything coming out of that," I said, a hint of indifference in my voice.

"Oh, why is that?"

"He is from Alagaesia," I said, picking at a blade of green grass. "Let us hope he doesn't have loose lips, or else word of me will spread quickly through the court."

"I'll keep an eye on him," Braeden said cryptically. I had heard of high lords employing spies to trail the other noble houses, but I'd never imagined it could be a common practice. I decided it would be best not to say anything. "I must say, you looked very much like your mother last night. You did splendidly; the entire room was fooled. It's lucky Galbatorix's wanted posters don't breach our borders, and that your Count had no idea who you were."

"Yes, very lucky indeed..." I replied absentmindedly. Perhaps he had recognized me, but was just waiting to report back to the king...

"Tabatha," Braeden said slowly. Something in his tone had darkened and I looked over at him. "Have you ever considered telling people who you are?"

"What? That would be very near suicide!" What could he possibly be thinking?

"I only mean that if you revealed yourself, it may give others within the Empire courage to stand up to him. The greatest fear right now is that, if Galbatorix was overthrown, there would be no one to pick up the pieces. Or perhaps it would be someone even worse than him." I listened carefully as he explained, but I wasn't exactly sure what he was getting at yet. "You have already allied yourself with the Varden, and you have a legitimate claim to the throne. Those nobles who are not loyal to the king could help you to gain power and support—not only for the Varden, but for yourself as well." I pondered this for a moment.

"Galbatorix's reach is far," I finally replied. "He would do anything to dispose of the people that tried to help me."

"It's something to think about." He smiled at me warmly and then bounced to his feet, reaching down a hand to help me up as well. "Are you ready to start training today?" he asked.

"I think so." There was a knot of nerves building in my stomach, and I hoped I could keep my bread and cheese down. Braeden led me to a large field just outside of the paddock. The tall grass swayed in a warm breeze and swept across my legs.