~Matchmaker~

"Rise and shine, Your Majesty. The sun has risen, the sky is beautiful and all those other pleasant things that I surely know about."

Hermes pried his eyelids apart with only sheer will. It seemed as though he had just shut them now yet he already had to prepare for another day.

Following a quick glance at his surroundings, he found Mikeal crouched at the foot of his bed, already dressed in his servant attire.

Hermes threw his arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight. "Remind me again, why I let you of all people wake me up every morning?"

Mikeal bowed his head. "I believe it is because you found my voice charming, Your Majesty."

"What are you doing by my bed?"

"Your Majesty, did you forget?" Mikeal placed his hand over his chest, a hurt look drawn over his features. "Tired to the bone, last night you requested me to get in bed with you and—"

There was a gasp in the background, reminding Hermes of one tiny detail he might have missed when he had looked around. He sat up and stared at the five maids standing in a line by his bed. They all had articles of his clothing in their hands.

Obviously, they had been sent here to get him ready for the day.

Hermes dismissed them with a wave of his hand. "He will dress me today. You all can leave now."

"Yes, Your Majesty," they said together then curtsied.

Hermes watched them drop the items they held then file out of the room. When his guards shut the doors from the outside, he turned back to Mikeal.

The man's head hit the ground. "Your Majesty, forgive me. I just wanted to say that you wanted me in bed with you because that night it was particularly stormy and you needed comfort. I just managed to slip out when the maids got here. I didn't mean to damage your reputation."

"Enough, Mikeal," Hermes sighed, pressing the heel of his palm against his temple. "No one is here to watch your play."

Mikeal looked up slightly and peeked around the room before falling back on his ankles and sighing to himself. "Who knew that the life of a servant was so hard? The moods of our masters are so unpredictable. We can lose our heads at every turn."

"Undress me and stop talking."

"I think you got the order wrong, Your Majesty."

"Are you questioning me, Mikeal?"

"I would never dare to," Mikeal rose to his feet. "It's just. . . If the maids heard you they would start getting ideas and before you know it your relationships with men around the capital will spread."

"Which men?!"

Mikeal shifted to the side just in time to dodge the dagger that had been thrown at him. He bent down to pick the metal basin and washcloth one of the maids had left behind.

"Well, there is Magnus, then Eugene," he began as he dipped the cloth into the water, "Faeradaigh. Then me of course."

"Faeradaigh?" Hermes shrugged out of his robe. "Why did you include Dai?"

"Because we both know you secretly love chubby people," Mikeal replied easily then threw the wet cloth at Hermes. "I can do anything while pretending to be your servant but I will not wipe your body down."

Hermes pulled the cloth off his face with two fingers. "And you are supposed to be my lover."

"You do all the pleasuring in our relationship," Mikeal replied with a straight face.

"Remind me again," Hermes ran the cloth over his arms and thighs, "why I haven't beheaded you."

"Because I have the information you asked for yesterday." Mikeal threw himself on top of the bed causing water from the basin to splash on Hermes' naked body. "Tell me when you are ready to get dressed. I couldn't sleep well because somebody was trying to strangle me in my sleep."

"I wish that somebody had succeeded."

"Ha," Mikeal snorted. "We both know you can't bear to harm a single hair on my head."

"How long are you going to be pretending to be a servant for?"

"Until the Empress Dowager," he clasped his hands and raised them to the sky, "stops looking for me."

"Settling down isn't so painful, Mikeal. If you can take a dagger to the face, you can handle a wife."

"It's painful when my heart is drunk on the love of someone else," Mikeal rolled so that he was lying on his stomach. "And I dodged that dagger."

"You have to forget about her."

"I can't."

"Then go kill her rebel of a husband and claim her as yours," Hermes said and dropped the cloth back into the basin. "I support you."

Mikeal turned his head to gawk at the nearly bare-assed emperor. "Sometimes I wonder why no one has managed to overthrow you yet."

Hermes let out a dry laugh and got to his feet. "The information?"

"The rebels in the Eastern States have all gathered under the banner of the army of Orse. They call themselves the Queensmen and they really want your head," Mikeal said with a yawn. "Nothing new."

"The rebel army of a dead queen wants my head," Hermes beckoned Mikeal with his fingers. "Tell me, how would that sound in a children's rhyme?"

Groaning, Mikeal got off the bed and trudged towards Hermes. "You don't pay me enough to put up with your musings."

He grabbed an inner robe on the way and stood behind the emperor.

"You know, you are the only person I allow myself turn my back to," Hermes said, feeling Mikeal's gaze trace the scars that formed a rugged path down his shoulders.

"I appreciate the opportunity," Mikeal draped the robe over Hermes' body, "but I would never betray you. Give the chance to someone else."

He walked around Hermes to face him, his fingers searching for the string that tied off the robe.

"Why are you not married?" Hermes asked.

"I want to spend all my life devoted to you."

"If you fancy one of the women. . ."

"I will not lay my hands on one of your women," Mikeal snapped. "And the gods help me, if you mention this again I will hit you so hard with a wooden sword that you forget how to run a kingdom."

"Empire," Hermes corrected in a mumble as Mikeal wore his outer robes for him. "If it cannot be her, you would have no one else?"

"You do not know what love is," Mikeal ran his hands over the front of the white robe. "You are the Emperor."

"I could have you beheaded for saying that."

"I am so scared."

"How you discovered if my mother is up to something?"

"When is she never up to something?"

Hermes narrowed his eyes at Mikeal. "What did you find?"

"The place gates were ordered to be closed by her and as a result a bride candidate was locked out."

Hermes frowned, remembering that day. "The nun?"

"Yes."

"What else?"

"The nun was imprisoned by your mother after the first selection, which I know you are aware of," Mikeal said. "But what you didn't know is that the nun is also the holder of the first rank in the selection."

"That is impossible, I personally chose—" Hermes froze. "That was her?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. The woman who tried to kill herself to prove her innocence in the Great Hall is the same one that stole your heart with her essay," Mikeal clapped his hands. "That is the beginning of a love story that is bound to sell well in the—"

"Can you stop thinking about money for once?"

"What?" Mikeal looked up from his fingers. "Have you suddenly realized that she is your soulmate and you have to rescue her?"

Hermes' gaze narrowed even further. "I'm more curious as to why both you and Magnus have been protecting her."

"We're both matchmakers," Mikeal grinned wide, "and I sell romance novels illegally to make a living."

~

I'm not sure if Mikeal is being serious or not.... I mean like, he's buff, with swords and everything. Romance novels? Nah. Bookseller? Double Nah. Hermes' Knight? Ding ding ding, we have a winner.

I might be wrong though and he's probably both. My character have soo many sides... ୧(＾ 〰 ＾)୨

You're seeing more of Hermes as this book progresses, what do you think of him?

This chapter flowed so easily. I loved it. This chapter is dedicated to RedKsana7th for the awesome comment that got so much inspiration flowing in me that I had to post this chapter.

I think the next chapter is still in Hermes' POV. Not much to talk about in a cell with 'They'. Hands down, if Oris was any other character, her current chapters would be all monologue... I mean, who talks to the creepy inmate that likes lurking in the dark? And you don't even know their gender because they look so blah. And you're too afraid of them killing you to even ask....