A/N: So... While I've abandoned this chapter for a while now, I've written at least 6k words of content, not for this book and just for fun. And I just want to apologize. Hence this paragraph... Thanks for reading!

~Exchange~

Keziah dipped a soft, white cloth into the bucket and used it to carefully wipe the soot off Oris' fingers. "Don't look so horrified, Mistress. They will only think you are feigning innocence."

Oris schooled her expression. "I'm not..." But she was. Pretending to be more shocked than she was. Wasn't this exactly what she had sought to protect Eve from?

Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "This has happened before?"

"It is unrealistic to transport one hundred and fifty women halfway across the state," Keziah answered, in an uncharacteristically roundabout way.

Oris didn't know if she was afraid of being overheard or something else, but before she could ask, Andrea laid her hands over her shoulders. "Are your hands feeling better?"

"Yes. Much better." It hadn't been that serious in the first place. And the worst of the small burns had been as a result of her running back into the tent halfway into her escape.

"His Majesty arrives."

Like marionettes spun about their strings, the women turned in the crier's direction, eyes fixed on Hermes as he rode back into camp on a steed with a light brown coat the same shade of his tight curls.

He looked particularly charming when he wasn't wearing white all the time like an Initiative and now she couldn't help but wonder what he had worn to storm her castle.

Hermes dismounted and surveyed the damage with an apathetic gaze, bands of leather wrapped around him in what could have passed for armor if you tilted your head, squinted... and it was the thick of the night. And Oris, so used to imagining where and how she'd slip her dagger through his normally impeccable defense, shook her head in disapproval.

If I had my knife right now, she thought, but didn't allow any more wishful thinking. All the smoke made her eyes sting but she was not blind enough not to see the men that surrounded Hermes in a loose perimeter, prepared to act at a moment's notice.

She clenched her hands and focused on the coolness of the water that lapped her fingers. She felt filthy, but at least she had finally accomplished something, shown that she wasn't that hard to kill and given anyone interested an opening for them to fawn over her.

She had been doing a great job of pretending that Hermes didn't exist, until Magnus got off his horse to whisper something into the Emperor's ear. Now his attention shifted, pulling every eye in the Oris' direction.

Mayree pulled the tarp off her and helped her to her feet as he approached her.

He hooked a finger under her chin and examined her singed veil. "Good," he said, "you didn't ruin that pretty face of yours."

She forced her eyes to focus on a spot right behind him, afraid that if their gazes met she might burst out laughing at his act. "Thanks to Your Majesty's grace," she murmured.

When he still didn't let her go, she added, "But others were not as lucky as I was."

Seemingly satisfied, he took a step back and addressed the other women. "Of course, I will have what happened here investigated. Be assured that the one responsible will be held accountable for the losses incurred today."

Lady Dianne seemed to shrink at that but Lady Ria only smirked and continued fanning herself.

"Those of you who lost your tents will lodge with your neighbors. You," he turned to Oris, "come with me."

She only had time to shoot her girls a reassuring look before Hermes took her by the wrist and started dragging her away, towards the center of the camp, past his many guards and into his tent.

"I don't remember asking you to burn yourself to death."

Is he upset? Oris shifted from one foot to another, shooting a glance at the closed flaps of the tent. "I wasn't the one who started the fire, sire."

"No." He held up a hand. "You aren't the type to expect me to save you."

Oris was too amused for words. "You can't really be suspecting me."

"I asked you to do well and you're already off to a great start," he said coolly. "Play the victim. Show the others that you're my favorite and use the excuse of being injured if you end up performing horribly."

"If only I was that smart."

"You are."

"Smart enough not to use fire?" She circled around him and studied the maps in the tent. There was a wargame in the corner, dotted with flags and models. It seemed to be a tiny replica of the temporary palace and the hunting grounds. "Are we just going hunting? Why does it seem like you're going to war?"

Hermes didn't answer and brushed past her to reach the desk at the far end of the tent. For all the space allocated to, there was no bed in sight. Instead, she found a suit of armor, hung and gleaming with golden light.

She watched him rummage through a pile of leather and parchment then shifted closer to the armor he displayed, causally searching for the weapon he intended to wield with it. She found none. "Is someone trying to kill you?"

"You already know who set the fire?" She tried again.

"Don't you?"

Oris thought about all the ladies who had rushed to the scene, to Ria and Dianne who had used her as a weapon against each other. Someone cruel enough to attempt murder before the sun had finished setting should be smart enough to avoid suspicion.

"Don't tell me it's one of your mother's proteges?" Someone who was so high ranked that you wouldn't expect them to take part in such a lowly struggle. They hadn't even stepped out of their tents when everything had gone up in flames. "It can't be. Why would the future Empress want to kill me?"

"You truly jest with your life." Hermes beckoned her to him.

"I'm not the one who dragged myself into the Emperor's private quarters."

"Show me your hands."

Oris turned them over and kept her face blank as he poked and prodded her sore and blistering skin.

"Does it hurt?" he asked softly.

She shot him a pointed look and took her hands back. "Sire, I am but a weak and simple woman. If I seem strong, know that I only put on a brave face for your sake."

He cleared his throat and tossed her a vial of milky liquid. "Use this. It won't heal it before the hunt but it will ease the pain."

Oris mulled over his words then nodded. "Thank you... Sire."

To that, he raised an eyebrow, and she thought he would say something about only helping because they were allies. Instead, he turned his back to her. "You can leave. I don't want to be the one who dragged you into the Emperor's private quarters."

"As you wish." She began to retreat but after a moment stopped when she was a few steps away.

From her sleeve, she pulled the sachet she had embroidery and held it out to him. "For the medicine."

He didn't reply so she just left it on the table.

Now they were even. She had hurt her hands trying to rescue that damn pouch and he had given her medicine for her wounds.

I'll see what Keziah will say now. Once she was out of the tent, she held the vial to the light and watched it sparkle. There was no doubt that it was precious medicine and it would be a waste to use it on such minor injuries.

Going back for the perfume sachet turned out to be right move after all. It had the prettiest stitches out of them all, and now, she wouldn't be able to attempt another one if she wanted to. The perfect excuse to ditch embroidery for the time being.

Oris had just tucked the vial into her sleeve, about to head back to the edge of the camp, when someone called out to her.

"Let me escort you back, m'lady," they said.

She turned back to see the man that accompanied Magnus and Hermes on their hunts making his way towards her. The man who had tried to kill Bren with a crossbow.

She bowed. "My Lord."

When he took her hand to kiss it, she forced herself to flinch and stammer. "M-my Lord?"

He looked down at her reddened fingers then loosened his grip and pressed his lips to her knuckles.

Oris suppressed a shudder at the feeling and waited until he released her before holding both hands behind her back and wiping them off on her dress.

"It had never been my intention to hurt someone so fair," he said, with a charming smile, "but until now I have found no opportunity to make amends for doing so. I apologize, for all the pain my poor marksmanship has caused you."

~