~Beg For Death~

Hermes' eyes burned on exposure to the poor lightning conditions of Inae's dungeons. Having grown up under the hot sun of the battlefield, he was well accustomed to being blinded and adapted to harshness of bright glares long before any of the enemy soldiers on the dessert plains realized that he had been defenseless.

The result however, was a stinging headache that stemmed from his eyesight overcompensating whenever he was in an environment with light exposure less than that of twilight.

Even with all the torches around him lit, his head pounded but with his men surrounding him he could not let it show. He had carried the ailment long enough to know how to disguise it behind a mask of indifference.

So far only Mikeal knew of the problem. Hermes had had no choice but to tell the man the day he had fallen to the ground in absolute agony during a night raid.

From then on he had secretly learnt to fight blind, unwilling to be placed under the banner of being disabled and left behind.

"You are all dismissed," he told the guards accompanying him, knowing that they would not question his need to be alone.

They smashed their gauntlets against their chestplates twice then departed wordlessly, their heavy footfalls echoing off the walls of the underground prison.

He grabbed a torch off its sconce on the wall and turned to see Mikeal straightening up from the hunched position he adopted during his act as a servant.

He stretched his hands above his head and bounced on the balls of his feet, his joints crackling as he rose to full length.

"Done?" Hermes asked in amusement, the torch dangerously close to his face.

Mikeal pulled a dagger from his sleeve and marked the wall in front of them experimentally. The sound of screeching metal travelled down the dank depths of the dungeon but didn't echo back at them.

"Quality stone here," the knight commented. "If I decide to do you in, no one on the outside will be able to hear your screams."

Hermes pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and prompted Mikeal to do the same. "This shouldn't take long, and the guards will be back soon so don't get any ideas."

"I've always loved a good challenge," firelight bounced off the man's teeth as he grinned. "No time to waste then."

He snatched the torch from Hermes and skipped down to the slippery stone steps of the dungeon. "The faster you get used to the dark, the sooner I can graduate from being your chaperone."

"I have never had any trysts, and you know it," the emperor shook his head and followed close behind the knight. "The sooner I get this done, the sooner I can put it behind me."

"I hope so," Mikeal mumbled as they walked past rows of silent cells. "Though, I doubt this was what Magnus meant when he said you should investigate this case yourself."

"You don't expect me to pretend to be ill all week, do you? He probably told the ministers that I had miraculously recovered, just as revenge."

"Magnus isn't that petty," Mikeal said with a smirk Hermes couldn't see. "He probably told a maid who happened to be a spy for one of the man ministers that wish to have you deposed. He would not stop as low as telling them directly."

"Don't remind me," Hermes blinked at the darkness, resisting the urge to rub at his aching eyes. "I still have to go back to all of that when this affair is settled."

"Maybe having a woman show you some good lovin—"

"I do not care for romance," Hermes snapped, a pang of pain hitting him square in the forehead. He clasped his hand over the spot, holding back the moisture building up behind his eyelids. "I do not understand how you feel nothing in this darkness."

"You are simply more sensitive to it that others," Mikeal paused and turned back to face him. "We don't need to do this today. There have been more storms than anticipated, you haven't been sleeping well enough to tackle such a poorly lit area."

"I sleep well enough with you in my bed," Hermes said, but pain killed the humor in his voice making the joke fall flat.

Mikeal frowned as the occupants in the cells around them guffawed, their laughs of amusement sounding like slates of granite rubbing against each other. "I can interrogate her on my own."

"She was wronged by my mother, it is my responsibility—"

"Your mother?" Mikeal asked as realization dawned on him. "You don't think I would put aside my bias regarding her and solve all this? You do not trust me?"

"You two don't exactly have the best of relationships."

"No, because she was too busy raising you to remember that she had me," Mikeal retorted under his breath but wasn't willing to let anger cloud his judgement.

He shifted his attention to the orange flame of the torch, watching the blaze eat at the sulphur-and-lime-soaked rag fixed at its end. It helped him get a hold of himself, knowing that if he extinguished it Hermes would be have to deal with pain he could not imagine.

That fact alone was a testament to the amount of trust his half-brother had in him. So what if he wanted to question the nun personally?

Hermes loved his mother, of course he wouldn't want her accused of something she didn't do.
Of course he would see to it that everything was fair.

The fact that he let Mikeal accompany him was more than a show of goodwill, it was Hermes' silently asking for help.

The knight held the flame towards the silent emperor. "Take it and lead the way. If we are down here for too long, your guards will worry."

Hermes curled his fingers around the wood of the torch like it was his lifeline and pulled it close. "I did not mean to imply—"

"I know," Mikeal cut him off, his gaze one that spoke of unspeakable understanding. "She means everything to you and because of that I will do my very best to assist you through this regardless of what my opinions are on this matter."

~

There were no guards deeper into the dungeon. Hermes had given them an early break to avoid having to interact with them. Having less eyes trained on him meant that he could prevent news of his little trip from reaching his mother's ears by dawn.

Only his private guards and the few prisoners that may have recognized him that knew that he was down here and not in his chambers being attended to by a horde of royal physicians.

With Faeradaigh guarding his bedroom doors and all the doctors in the palace held hostage by Eugene, he had absolute confident in his ability to keep everything under wraps.

"These cells are absolutely repulsive," Mikeal mumbled from beside him. "I can't believe they're keeping her here."

Hermes turned to the man about to ask why he was so concerned about the woman's living conditions but was interrupted before the words could leave his mouth.

". . .ment of never seeing the sun is one given only to the most hardened and unredeemable criminals."

Both men stilled at the sound of the voice. Mikeal recognized it, having had conversations with the nun several times. He tapped on Hermes' shoulder to inform him but was shushed in return.

"The emperor worships Sūn as well because his mother was Naritan. All his conquests are dedicated to the sun," the melodious voice continued.

It seemed Hermes had also recognized its owner as the writer of the essay he had personally marked.

"What are we waiting for?" Mikeal mouthed silently but got no reply.

Without looking, Hermes placed the torch in the nearest sconce and walked slowly in the direction of the voice.

Mikeal smirked at that an happily accompanied the emperor in his attempt to eavesdrop. The situation was like a memory right out of their childhood. With nothing to do to keep busy, the two of them had snuck about the entire palace in search of adventure but instead found interesting tidbits of information while hushing each other in their often cramped hiding spots.

He only hoped that his favorite candidate for the selection said nothing that would cause her to fall out of Hermes' favor. He didn't want to have to break her out of the prison himself—no amount of explaining would get him out of the consequences of that stunt. Worse even, Hermes and his mother might force an engagement on the pair of them the moment they were caught and that was the last thing he wanted.

"Really?" another voice asked quietly, as though the fact was hard to believe "Despite being born a prince of Inae. . . he worships the sun?"

"His skin is so dark, he must have spent every waking moment of his life in harsh sunlight," came the nun's certain reply as though she had been with him through it all. "Not at all like the rest of Inae that runs for shade at the sight of the sun's rays."

For a moment there was silence. Mikeal figured that he might have missed the other person's reply despite how much sound echoed in the dungeons because his nun was talking again.

"He is," she said, the loud rattle of a chain following the dying echo of her voice. "Are you saying that because you miss your own children or because you are his mother?"

Mikeal glanced hurriedly at Hermes about to do his best to somehow defend the blasphemy they had both heard. Hermes' birth mother was a touchy subject, one that even he had limited understanding of. Why his nun would be talking about it in the dungeons was a mystery to him.

"What are you saying?" the other person was quick to admonish her. Mikeal let out a breath of relief at their words but kept a wary eye on the emperor. "Don't let the guards hear your nonsense. They might just decide to beat you to death now."

"The Empress Dowager put you here, didn't she?" Despite being warned, the nun just didn't relent and continued from where she stopped. "She forced you into this dark corner to die knowing it was the worst punishment for a Naritan that had opposed her for so long."

Mikeal could almost taste Hermes' anger in the air. He stepped in front of the emperor and placed his hands on the man's shoulders.

"We should go," he whispered. "You are in no state to interrogate anyone."

He was more afraid for the nun's well-being than his brother's however, keenly aware of just how easy the man's temper was to fray. The fact that he had managed to not lung at the opinionated woman was prove of his stellar self-control.

"I never said that she put me here," the other inmate was quick to defend the Empress Dowager and once again Mikeal was thankful for their wisdom. "Don't lump me in with your kind. I am here for rebellion."

"You look as much a rebel as I do," his nun argued back, making him want to bash his head on the stone wall, "and you shake each time I mention her."

The other person replied with words a little too quiet to be heard.

"It doesn't," his nun agreed nevertheless.

"But the fact that you are Naritan does. The emperor is filial. His birth mother was a princess from Narita, there is no way he would let her people be maltreated. Even if they were hardened criminals, as a devout worshipper of Sūn he would never deprive a Naritan of sunlight. He would be very aware of what such can do to their psyche," she continued and Mikeal knew immediately that she was doomed. Hermes didn't—he simply couldn't—tolerate the presence of those who defamed his mother.

He dropped his hands to his side and listened to the woman prattle on, unaware of the hole she was digging for herself. Now he knew why this end of the dungeon had been so quiet when they arrived. Every inmate must have been listening quietly from their cells, spellbound as the nun wove a tale of deceit whose central characters were members of the royal family.

With no other form of entertainment, they voiced no complaints when such a scandalous story being told and instead revelled in it.

What really pained him was the fact that the woman didn't even bother lowering her voice. It was as though she wanted everyone around to know. He could only imagine the sort of gossips that would have been started if the guards had been present during this unexpected storytelling session.

Already, Hermes' complexion was getting worse. The man looked ready to kill yet he stayed perfectly still and continued to listen. Mikeal did as well, perfectly aware of what his mother was capable of.

If what his darling nun was saying was true then the scope of their investigation had already gotten too large to be kept a secret. If indeed the current Empress Dowager had kept the legal Empress Dowager imprisoned in this corner of their dungeon for years then that had massive implications.

". . . the emperor got his breathtaking eyes from you," the soothing voice said in conclusion, disrupting the mysterious spell of silence that had engulfed the dungeon.

At those words, Hermes too seemed to wake up. Looking unbelievably pale for a child born of the sun, he took a shaky step forward as though he wanted to see it for himself and wake

Mikeal help him back, fearing for the woman's safety. "You are in no shape to interrogate anyone right now."

"I don't—"

Behind them, the conversation continued cutting Hermes' sentence short. He shut his eyes, unable to bear the darkness any longer.

"You have seen him?" the other voice asked, hope in their voice. "Is he still. . . doing alright?"

"Finally," the nun said cheerfully. "I thought you would still deny it. Really, it is Fate that has brought us together. I doubt anyone would have deduced your identity as finely as I did."

"You daft girl. You shouted all that just now. There is little possibility that the guards didn't hear you."

"I want them to hear," the nun admitted rather bravely.

"Child, if the Empress Dowager hears of this she will do everything she can to kill you before your words can be proven. There is no doubt now that you would be executed without a trail."

"She already wants me dead," the nun sighed seemingly at peace with how things had turned out.

"But what if one of those guards was the emperor's man?" she asked, sounding very optimistic about her chance of survival. "He would report back and we'll be free, won't we? And even if the Empress Dowager wants to silence me, she can't silence this whole half of the dungeon without good reason! Everyone here has heard what I said. They can testify."

"They can, but not everyone is as stupid as you. They won't go up against the Empress Dowager."

"You really hold little faith in me leaving here alive. . ."

"Nobody has visited you since you got here. That shows that the help you are waiting for can't bypass her control. We will both die here, child, and so will all who heard you speak just now. We will die here because we are nothing. The sooner you get that into your head, the happier you would be."

After that there was silence. The story had finished and the conversation was done. The dungeon was soon filled with the murmurs of worried inmates and for the first time since their arrival, Hermes and Mikeal were noticed.

Chained criminals pressed their noses through the bars of their cells, eager to catch a glimpse of their new visitors.

"We have to go," Mikeal told Hermes, knowing that they had stayed for far too long. "The guards will be back any minute now."

Without a word leaving his lips, Hermes took the torch and began to walk back to the entrance of the dungeon, away from the voice that had turned everything he knew on its head.

"When I get out of here," the nun began again just as the two men were almost out of earshot, her hopes obviously revived, "I will do everything I can to take you with me. So no, neither of us is going to die here. We are both going to live lives so long that in the end we will get bored of it and beg for death."

~

Aw. Mikeal calls Oris his nun. So cute!

Yes, I know that having Hermes being there during the conversation is clichè but it really was a coincidence! He just wanted to interrogate her as fast as possible and if we count the hours it took him almost half a day to come and question her!

I wonder what Mikeal, Hermes and Faeradaigh were doing alone in the room all that time! And those poor doctors that are being held hostage without knowing why! I'm sooooo wicked.

This chapter was super duper long (if you hadn't noticed!). 2,807 words in fact. I hope you all weren't bored or angry with me...

2nd apology chapter conquered. The third one is on it's way! Yay!