"Pleased to meet the royal envoy," Oris said loudly and curtsied with both her hands clasped on her left side, overtly aware of the fact that she had not included a name. She could not, in fact, having forgotten to ask Eve of her family name. And she couldn't say something random either. It was better to keep her story short and sweet now so that when she was questioned later there would be less inconsistencies.

So when the eunuch looked in her direction, she lowered her head. Had Eve greeted the man already? She couldn't remember. She hoped he hadn't already caught on to her deceit, too many lives were riding on this.

Oris was glad that Tristan and Father Jones were not here with her, their panic would have given their ruse away. She was sure that Marcka would show no reaction, perhaps he would have been thumbing the hilt of his sword ready to cut the eunuch where he stood. Maybe it would be easier that way, risking Hermes' ire then going into hiding.

She almost laughed. It would have been a humorless one had it survived past her lips. The grip of her interlocked fingers tightened as she waited in silence for a reply. A reply that would determined how she'd live her life for the next few years.

Several scenarios ran through her mind in the meanwhile, her heart thumping hard against her ribs at each one.

Could anxiety kill someone? She felt as though her heart was planning a jailbreak to leave her body. Could she survive if it succeeded? She was not sure.

"The dress looks lovely on you," the man slurred and with a long exhale Oris felt relief flood her body.

"Thank you, milord," she responded in kind, separating her hands so they hung loosely by her sides. She focused on the heartbeats she felt in her wrists as they slowly receded. That was too close for comfort.

"Oh, I am far from a lord, My Lady."

Cautiously lifting her gaze, Oris took note of how the eunuch leaned forward and leered at her.

"I am but His Majesty's humble servant," he continued as though he wasn't eyeing her like she was a common whore, "at your beck and call whenever you wish."

"Is that so?" she asked in a breathless way she knew would get his heart racing. For the emperor's personal and closest servant, he seemed too tactless and unrestrained. He couldn't even control himself enough not to get drunk. Oris had a feeling he would be getting replaced soon.

"Yes, Lady. . ." he trailed off.

"You forgot my name?" Oris took another step forward, knowing that Eve had told the man who she was. The fact that he forgot would serve her very well.

"No, no, no," he said hurriedly and straightened up. "What can I do for My Lady?"

"I want to see the emperor," Oris walked up to the man and looked down at him, her veil tickling her jaw as she did. "Can you make that happen?"

She watched him gulp, his eyes leaving her obscured face and darting farther down to her chest. She scowled, knowing he won't see it. Definitely getting replaced.

"His Majesty is a very busy person," he said by way of explanation, "I cannot determine who he wants to see and when. . ."

"Oh," she let her shoulders fall as she retreated and seated herself in the chair three paces away from him, "I see."

"When do I get to see him then?" she asked, reaching up to brush her veil slightly so that he could catch a glimpse of her pale skin.

"I'm sure tomorrow when we set out —" he started hurriedly, now eager to please.

"Tomorrow?" Oris tried to sound appalled. "We leave today."

"My Lady—"

"I cannot make the emperor wait," she said, her tone low and dangerous, "can you?"

"No," he shook his head furiously and shot to his feet. "But the storms, My Lady. . ."

"How long will it take to journey to the capital city?" Oris asked, turning her fingers this way and that like she was examining them. It made her seem busy, she had noticed long ago. And people who are busy have no time for nonsense.

"A- About two weeks, My Lady." the man stuttered.

"Wrong!" Oris hit her hand on the table, smiling to herself as she when the eunuch jumped in his seat. "A bug," was her excuse as she lifted her fingers to her mouth and laughed daintily, "I absolutely hate them."

The eunuch joined in, laughing stiffly along with her. "Why am I wrong, My Lady?" he asked carefully.

"Because if we wait for clear skies, the journey would take longer. The emperor would be kept waiting," she explained with the same patience she use with the children in her village. "And we have already agreed that we cannot make the emperor wait."

With every word she rapped her fingers along the table, emphasizing the seriousness of the matter. "Don't you agree?" She looked up at him.

"Yes, yes," he bobbed his head.

"So, what shall we do about it?" Oris asked with curiosity lacing the question, a ploy to make him feel like it was his decision.

"We shall set out at once!" he declared as made his way, staggering, towards the exit.

Oris waited till he was almost halfway there before standing up and clearing her throat. "Aren't you forgetting something, milord?"

"What," he abruptly halted then turned to face her. In a moment, realization struck him. He bowed deeply, his inebriated self nearly falling over in the process. "My Lady, please come along."

"Thank you. . ." Oris pushed away from the table and walked towards him. "What do you go by, milord?"

"Faeradaigh, My Lady," he supplied with renewed enthusiasm.

"What a peculiar name," she forced a smile, resisting the urge to ask if it was his family name.

It's just a coincidence, she thought after considering the rarity of the name. How many Faeradaighs would she meet in her lifetime? And how many would have a connection to him?

"Yes, it is." Faeradaigh extended his hand towards the open hallway and took a step back. "After you."

Oris dropped her head and shuffled forward obediently, putting her queenly aura away for another day.

She had a feeling she'd need all of it for when she entered the palace. But for now she was a nun, a nun who knew nothing of the intricacies of royal warfare.

~