Perhaps it was foolhardy for her to travel alone, especially in a foreign country where outsiders such as herself weren't exactly welcome. In Ayortha, she had often wandered off by herself in her youth. Since the appearance of the Grey Death, her mother had admonished her more than once on her independent streak, but it did little good. Eve was her own person, and staying cooped up within castle walls was not her idea of a good time.
Today, she was dressed in a simple gown and hoped that, at the very least, she could pass as something other than royalty. It wasn't that she was ashamed of who she was, but how was she to get anything done if people were constantly fretting over her? Sure, she didn't exactly look common, but she still held to hopes that she wouldn't be recognized immediately, or fawned over, for that matter.
Lingering near a shoppe cart that contained many a pretty ribbon, Eve had plucked a strand of crimson silk out of a basket to examine it. Her nose wrinkled a bit once she had it lifted to a piece of her own hair. No, she never could understand why the women back home decorated themselves like colorful birds.
Once she had returned the fabric to where she found it, Eve began to wander back down the street and focus her attention on the men and women who were still so foreign to her. The customs were strange. There was no singing, and people talked as much as she did.
As she neared a young man--not much older than herself--who seemed to be enchanted with a pair of breeches in a shoppe window, she noticed that he dropped something as he moved away. Taking it up as her civic duty to get involved, she plucked the handkerchief up off of the ground and caught up to the aimless traveler.
"Excuse me," she spoke with a heavy Ayorthian accent once she had tapped him on the shoulder. "I believe you dropped this."