The carriage was small and clearly not meant to hold more than two people, and even that was a tight fit. Oris was sure of this because despite how much she longed for a respectable distance between her and Faeradaigh, her knees brushed his with each jolt that went through the vehicle. At least, it was luxurious enough to prove that the eunuch really was who he said he was and not the leader of a human trafficking ring.

The man looked the part anyway, despite the jeweled rings that adorned his fingers or the fact that his clothes could feed a village for months. It was because he had a sleazy look to him, one you wouldn't dare turn to unless you were desperate, back-against-the-wall-with-a-starving-lion-in-front-of-you desperate. And once again Oris was left wondering how such a man could be in such a high position.

He was impotent, she assumed, unless His Majesty had decided to spare the Faeradaigh family jewels, which didn't make much sense. In the royal palace, eunuchs were the only men in contact with the imperial women, why would Hermes risk a tryst between his personal servant and one of his new brides?

There was no way that the risen warlord could trust someone as shifty as Faeradaigh. No way Oris could think of, at least.

The whole matter made her head hurt with implications. Does that mean Hermes would choose his words over mine if it comes to it?

If so she would need to win the fat eunuch over. A part of her even doubted if he truly was castrated with the way he kept glancing at the swell of her breasts from beneath her gown and running his tongue over his lips. He looked like he would have already ravaged her if they didn't have company.

What an unsettling feeling.

"I am sorry, My Lady," he apologized for what had to be the hundredth time, dabbing the sweat that seemed to pour off him with his already soaked handkerchief. "I had only thought about how to get here as fast as possible. I hadn't taken into account how you would be accommodated. . ."

"It's alright," Oris fought off the pain that would have appeared in her voice. Already, she was tired of this routine and it had only been a day. However would she make it to Heshera? "Since we are making haste, there really is no time to waste."

But why do I think this exact scenario was exactly what you had hoped for? She prayed silently to any god that would hear her for a chance to get off the carriage. She needed to breathe air that wasn't tainted with lust.

The man smiled grimly and nodded, while Oris pretended that she couldn't see the spark of delight that flashed through his eyes in the same moment. She didn't think she'd survive two weeks stuck in a rolling metal box with the insufferable man.

It's times like these that make me wish I had a dagger on my person, she sighed wistfully and leaned her head against the cushioned wall of the carriage.

But what would she do with it? Kill the eunuch? Threaten him? Those two options seemed in direct conflict with her aim of staying inconspicuous around royal personnel.

"Will we ride like this till we get to Heshera?" she asked, hoping the eagerness in her voice was heard by Faeradaigh.

If there was anything she desperately needed, it was for the man to think she enjoyed his company. That would give him enough incentive to keep her alive in the palace during the preliminary stages of the selection.

"No," he said, with too much disappointment in his eyes for her not to be wary. "The rest of the convoy expects us to rendezvous with them at Asharath."

Oris ignored the way his statement seemed to lead to a question. No, she was not leaving behind a delegate of maids and soldiers in favor of riding with a man that had undressed her the moment he saw her.

But to keep up the act of being a young and impressionable woman giddy about her first time, she tilted her head and pressed a hand to one of her cheeks, speaking her next words in the most scandalous tone she could manage.

"No, that would do no good," she said softly, setting her eyes on the curtains that fluttered over the carriage's windows. "I want everyone in the palace to like me," she reached out and pushed at the curtain closest to her, pretending to view the scenery but actually watching the darkening clouds through the corner of her eyes. "It wouldn't be nice of me to abandon them on the first day."

She let the curtain drop and sunk deep into her seat, levelling her eyes on Faeradaigh to strengthen his belief in her excuse. "On any other day, I would have taken your offer. I heard that it's truly lonely in the palace. . . it would be nice to have some friends."

"As you wish, My Lady," he crooned as though the words pleased him more than anything.

Just how many of the emperor's women have allowed themselves to be used by this man just for the sake of future favors? Oris shivered at the thought and hoped he didn't notice.

He did.

"My Lady, are you cold?"

Not trusting her mouth not to call out the man for the fat pig he was, Oris simply nodded.

"It's best for us to find a place to sleep for the night," he said, placing his damp hand atop hers then returning to the task of wiping his sweat, "we have been riding for the better part of the day."

Dear gods. It was barely twilight and she already wanted to kill the man.

"We should take a break," she agreed, sure that in a few hours the heavens would break open to drown them all.

She'd rather be in a warm room than an unbalanced carriage with a man twice her age when that happened.

"Maybe in the next town over?" she asked quietly. "It'll be nice to eat something, and take a bath."

Oris had honestly spoken her mind, she needed to wash the stank of a day's ride off her, but she knew what was going through the cad's mind. In no time, he nodded vigorously and thumped hard on the roof of the carriage, shouting a string of commands to the driver she had not yet managed to see.

She sighed in relief and thanked Faeradaigh.

"Anything for My Lady," he answered automatically, his lips splitting apart to show his teeth. "It is my duty to make this journey as comfortable as possible."

"Of course," Oris muttered under her breath.

"What was that?"

"I am glad to be safe in your hands, milord," she replied easily and hoped he didn't ask for more as she shut her eyes and pretended to sleep.

Of course, she could not let down her guard when Faeradaigh sat just across from her but she needed rest. She had been wound up tight for hours and knew that if she didn't take her time to build up strength, the palace was going to swallow her whole and spit out her flesh-stripped bones for the dogs at the city's gates to chew on.

And that, she swore to Fate, was not the way she was going to die.

~