It was not quiet on the way to Eve's room but it was peaceful. The hallway was empty, the nuns and children in the building either downstairs entertaining their guest or in the middle of making themselves scarce.

Rightfully so too, Oris thought, the fear in Eve's eyes flashing behind hers one more time. No one should be have to listen to those nasty rumors.

She could feel the crescendo of local folk songs reverberate from beneath the gaps in the floorboards. There were familiar tunes and more unfamiliar ones but despite that Oris felt her steps falling to the beat of the songs.

Will there be music in the palace? she thought as she indulged herself and allowed her feet do as they pleased. In a moment of verses, her body had gone through three twirls, air catching beneath her gown as she glided across the hallway. She could almost imagine how ridiculous she looked with her clumsy, improvised steps and a gown too stiff and inches too long for what she had in mind.

Would I be allowed to dance? She freed her arms from her side and leaned her head back, pretending that she was not alone and instead had a partner. She and her imaginary friend tumbled across the lengthy hallway and with laughter at the tip of her tongue, she let out a breath when her hand finally found the handle of the door she had danced to.

Now she was glad that Eve had always insisted on getting her familiar with the layout of the building. It had saved her a lot of time and suspicious looks from whoever she might have encountered on her search. The last thing she needed was running into a nun and having to explain why she was trespassing on their property.

Feeling slightly giddy, Oris pushed herself into the room, leaning against the door the moment she was inside. She had tried to feel excited at the prospect of finally leaving  the confines of her room but it was hard to, spontaneously breaking into dance was a testament to how nervous she felt. Things had seemed much clearer when viewed from the four corner safe haven she had holed up in for over a week. Now that she was out, everything felt much larger than she had thought they were.

A part of her just wanted to run away and leave all this behind her just as Marcka had suggested. Then another part of her, the one that loved luxury and justice, craved the freedom.

She wouldn't have to work in the palace. She would be able to eat warm meals thrice a day. No more hay. No more stables. No more pretending to be a boy.

And she could be a spy. She could be closer to Hermes than any rebel ever had. She could end his reign of terror.

It was too tempting, too tempting an offer to refuse. So at last, she allowed herself to succumb, breaking away from the door and gliding to the center of the room.

The veil was easy to spot and even easier to wear.

After running her fingers through her hair to give it a semblance of order, Oris settled down on Eve's bed. Calm and fully dressed, she waited. The party had to die down soon—a priest only had so much wine in storage.

The moment music stopped being played was the moment she'd make her existence known to the eunuch and demand, sweetly of course, that she be taken to the emperor immediately. He could not refuse for fear of offending a woman who might hold the fancy of said emperor in the future. Of course, Oris knew that that fear was baseless. She would be lucky if she and Hermes never had to cross paths. She didn't think she'd be able to keep her hate from showing if they did.

The faster this goes, the better, she thought, a feeling brewing in her chest that resembled glee, and began to hum along to the next song being played.

Will I be able to sing? She looked up at the ceiling, a wistful smile tugging on her lips. It has been so long since I have been able to.

Being a peasant had perks over being a royal, songs and dances were not included on the list. An orphan couldn't know the steps to elaborate dances or the words to famous songs.

How will it feel to indulge in those pleasures once again? There was a part of her that couldn't wait.

           ~

When the door to the room was pushed open, Oris didn't bother looking, choosing to keep her gaze on a spot in front of her.

"Marcka told me everything," Tristan started, she knew it was him not because of his announcement but because he didn't wait for her to speak before he began talking.

Marcka would have knocked. Then he would have barged into the room and rushed at her, his voice hoarse with anxiety as he demanded things of her.

Father Jones would have still standing outside the door waiting for her to give him permission to enter.

Tristan was the more balanced of the two, having opened the door without knocking but still looming in the doorway. He hadn't been allowed to enter, so he didn't. Still, he wasn't going to talk to a slab of wood.

"He's in the room with Sister Eve," he said.

Now Oris stood and turned to face him, tall and regal with her hands clasped in front of her. "As her brother you should have respected her wishes instead of going behind her back to find a way to save her."

From behind the veil she saw his form stiffen but he said nothing. She said nothing either and walked passed him, aware of his footsteps trailing hers as she descended the stairs into the ground floor of the convent.

She knew that he knew that she had only said what she had for Eve's sake. After all, the woman would be filled with guilt after this, guilt she might not recover from.

Oris paused at the foot of the stairs, already able to make out the stench of scented wine from there.

"Take care of her," she mumbled under her breath before moving forward again.

From the corner of her left eye she saw Tristan nod and felt half of the load on her heart lighten.

Now all she had to do was make it to Heshera, the New World's capital and the former capital city of Inae—Hermes' home state—and pass the emperor's selection.

With a shudder leaving her, Oris followed the trail the wine had provided her and found herself in the long dining hall where the royal eunuch sat at the head of the table and an uncomfortable looking nun poured wined into his goblet.

She cleared her throat, took a step forward and announced her presence.

~