Queensmen

Chapter 9

~Promise~

Oris had told Eve to keep her decision to cooperate from Father Jones and the brothers, and the nun had no problem complying, flashing the dethroned queen a conspirational grin before backing away into the hallway and gently shutting the door.

That had been three days ago.

Still, it was obvious that with every new dawn Eve's hope that Oris would change her mind grew, despite the fact that she had been so grateful when faced with an opportunity to get the burden borne for her.

Silly girl. Oris shook her head at the thought before popping a slice of apple into her mouth. She's too nice for her own good.

She set the plate she held on the table and reached for the cup of juice beside it. She was just about to lift it to her lips when someone knocked twice on the door.

With a loud groan she set the cup back down and turned on the chair to watch whoever was about to come in. She expected Eve to come tumbling in, her veiled coif trapped in the crook of her elbow and her crimson coils unruly from just being freed. The girl always rushed in with a story to tell, of food fights in the dining halls or how widowed women wept loudly at Father Jones' latest sermon.

Instead, her gaze fell on Marcka, her least favorite person next to Hermes himself. As usual, his expression was grim. She switched her smile into a scowl. What a pleasure. The only time she saw humanity in him were when he had defended Father Jones and scolded Tristan for letting her get hurt. Apart from that, the man remained as apathetic as ever.

"Where is Eve?" Oris asked pointedly. For the past few days since she had rejected their proposition none of the men had come to her room. All their pleas and bargains had been passed to her through Eve.

She knew that she was safer if less people saw her, red hair and all, so she had stayed compliant and stayed in the room for the most part. There were still times when she snuck out with Eve to take baths, relieve herself and explore the convent as much they could.

"The royal envoy is here."

That got Oris' attention. She slapped a hand hard against the table and marched right up to Marcka till she pressing in on his personal space. "They aren't supposed to be here for two more days."

"I know," he nodded slowly and didn't even make a move to shift back as though he was willing to compromise this once. "He, the head eunuch, rushed to get here early. Eve is the last. . . tribute. Apparently he doesn't want to be object of the emperor's ire."

"Where is Eve?"

"She is welcoming-"

Suddenly, the image of the nun's severed head falling to the ground flashed through Oris' mind. "She can't do that," she argued shakily, not caring if she was overreacting. Hermes could not outright kill his own concubine but the fear was still there, pressed hard against her ribs and making breathing harder than it needed to be.

"Why?" Marcka barked in anger, but he was clearly as distressed as she was. "You already made it clear how you felt about you felt about us kidnapping you. Eve sent me here to take you away. It's all for the best anyway. Leave and forget everything that happened in these two weeks."

"I already agreed," Oris said sternly, setting her glare on the hardheaded man. "I agreed days ago."

"Eve," he choked a bit as he said her name. "Sister Eve didn't inform me of that," he said, keeping familiarity out of his voice. It didn't matter though, Oris didn't care for the secret he was hiding.