A/N: Ah, the joys of being lazy. Seriously, I need to get back into writing! On a lot of my stories I'm facing writer's block so PLEASE send suggestions! I promise to fully acredit you with the idea, too! So enjoy the chapter.

Unaware that they were being watched by a socipathical judge and his hunchbacked sidekick, Clopin, Valdemar, Esme, and Djali walked through the snow-covered streets.

"S-so what e-exactly are w-we looking f-for?" Esme asked, her teeth chattering from the cold.

"Clopin had an arrangement with a friend to get us on in a carriage. But somebody," Valdemar grumbled, "forgot to ask where this so-called 'friend' would meet up with us!"

"Well, if you weren't rushing maybe I would've remembered," Clopin barked back.

The pair argued while Esme struggled to keep up. The snow was so deep that it began to fall into her shoes, soaking her stockings. Then, she spotted something that clearly the men hadn't seen. It was the carriage! It was extremely long and was pulled by half a dozen steeds, stomping their hooves to get out the excess snow. The wooden wheels were covered in ice, but aside from that it looked relatively safe.

"Oi! Look!" she cried, pointing ahead.

"Aha! There it is!" Clopin exclaimed, jogging through the snow. Esme finally set Djali down and chased after him, while Valdemar brought up the rear, waddling as fast as he could.

The coachmen was getting ready to leave when Clopin shouted, holding his tickets in the air. He eyed the trio as well as the goat with suspicion.

"You do realize that I don't allow animals inside?" he stated, raising a bushy eyebrow at Djali, "he'll make a mess!"

"But sir-" Clopin said, sinking into a bow and removing his hat, "this goat is very clean. Why, you could search the entire city of Paris and not find anything cleaner! Besides, if he makes any mess, I will be sure to pay full damage costs."

Esme and Valdemar stared at him, their mouths agape with shock. Why would Clopin be defending the very animal who hadn't taken too kindly to him?

"Very well," said the coachmen, "I will take you as far as you need to go. But keep in mind the journey will be long and we may have to rest to water up the horses."

"Not a problem at all," replied Clopin. Taking Esme's hand, he let her step into the carriage first. There was an aisle barely three feet wide and about half a dozen compartments lined each side of it. Sliding the door back, Esme sat down on the plush seat and looked out the window. Clopin sat beside her, which left Valdemar to take the seat across from them along with Djali.

"There's a window behind my driving seat, and you can open it if you need anything," said the coachmen, making sure they were settled in.

"Thank you very much," Clopin said, handing him their tickets. And with that, he closed the door. They could faintly hear the coachmen cracking his whip, signaling the horses to trot. The carriage lurched forward, causing Esme and Clopin to practically land on top of Valdemar. But then the ride became steady, and they sat down in their seats.

After a few minutes of silence, Esme slouched in her seat, placing her feet on the seat across from her.

"You know, you shouldn't slouch. After all, you're a Gypsy Princess," Clopin pointed out. Shooting him a look, Esme sat up a little straighter.

"Clopin?"

"Yes?"

"Do you really think I'm royalty?" she asked dreamily.

"Of course!" Clopin said confidentaly.

"Then stop bossing me around!" Esme hissed, turning to look out the window. Clopin looked taken aback, but Valdemar merely chuckled.

"You walked right into that," he pointed out, "and she has a mind of her own, you know."

"I hate that in a woman," Clopin mumbled. Esme didn't seem to hear (or if she did, she made no effort in physically harming him). Silence seemed to compress the compartment like a vice. Finally, Valdemar spoke up.

"Are you going to miss it?"

"Miss what?" Esme replied.

"Paris! The city of lovers! Notre Dame! The Seine River! Baguettes from the bakery!" Valdemar cried, waving his hands dramatically as he spoke.

"Well, I guess it was my home at one point," she said thoughtfully, "but my necklace says 'Together in Bucharest'."

Suddenly, the carriage slowed to a brief halt. Esme could hear a faint cry, a thud of something on the ground, and then the carriage picked up speed again. Only this time, it went a little bit too fast.

"What do you think that was?" Esme asked.

"Probably nothing," Clopin said, shrugging it off. Djali bleated loudly, tapping his hooves against the window.

"Stop that, Djali!" Esme ordered, picking him up. She looked outside, trying to see what was causing him to act up. In the dim light, she could barely make out a body lying in the snow. His crimson blood stained the white flakes around him, and Esme couldn't help but scream.

"No need to panic," Clopin said nervously as Valdemar tried to calm her down, "we need to think of something."

"How can we think when our coach has been hijacked?" Esme cried hysterically.

"Shhhhhh," said Valdemar, holding a finger to her lips, "I understand that you are frightened. We all are; but for our own safety we have to stay calm."

Lost for words, Esme just nodded. The carriage picked up speed, going faster than ever before.

"Maybe if we throw something, the horses will be spooked and we can jump off when the carriage stops," Valdemar suggested wildly.

"If you want to do that, we better start now," Clopin said, pointing a finger out the window. A few miles away, stood a stone bridge over a river. It had crumbled in the middle, leaving at least a forty foot gap between an icy plunge and safety on the other side. And they were headed straight for it.