Queensmen

Chapter 26

~Conspiracy~

Oris half-expected the woman to make things hard for her but thankfully, she didn't.

The Empress Dowager simply adjusted her boisterous sleeves and walked in majestically. "At ease," she said casually as though her presence wasn't an unforeseen development but a required element in all court meetings.

Oris obeyed the general command and rose fully to simply kneel. There was no point in bowing anymore. Since the most powerful woman in the world had decided to get rid of her, pity would no longer move any heart.

Things had just gotten a lot harder for her to turn around.

"Son, am I disturbing anything?" the woman said but her voice did not portray any remorse, only authority. "If I am, I could come by later. The matter I wish to discuss is not so important."

Finally, for the first time since she had stepped into the palace, Oris was allowed see Hermes, worshipper of Sūn and the man that had murdered her only remaining family.

She kept her gaze on the golden throne, slowing collecting her thoughts as she was hit full-force with majesty.

Hermes was beautiful.

Even through her veil, she could tell. Just as she could tell that his mother was a beauty that could, and had destroyed nations.

"No, how could anything mother wishes to discuss be unimportant?" the Emperor said, his voice cool and silky. "Dai, get mother a seat."

Faeradaigh's reply was unheard by Oris for she was still gripped, captivated by what she saw.

Hermes was strong. His arms were thick with muscle and his chest was a wall that couldn't be pushed down.

His jaw was sharp, his features exquisite like he was a piece of marble the god of art and sculpture, Shéhehā, had wanted to cherish.

His visage was godly. Power rippled in him from head to toe. The rumors did not lie, he was indeed one who could rip apart a lion with his bare hands and behead an enemy general from miles away with the force of a common spear.

He wore no crown on his head but he was the ruler of everything as far as the eye could see.

He wore nothing but a simple, unadorned white robe yet he was the richest man alive.

Oris could see no pride in him, no hate, no vengeance, yet what he had done was undisputable.

He had killed thousands to sit on his throne and yet he was no what she had expected. He was more than what she anticipated.

She had known that he was a warrior, in fact she could recited his origins while asleep. She had studied him for years in preparation for defeating him one day, so why did she feel as though she hadn't even scratched the surface of who he truly was?

The feeling was that of learning a myth then the next day finding out it ought to be a more fact than legend.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," the Empress Dowager said when she was seated, up on the dais, above the rest of the officials at the right-hand of her son.

"You spoke of rebellion?" Hermes asked, and Oris couldn't help but watch him.

She watched the long curly braids of black hair that fell off his shoulders. She watched the morning light reflect off his dark chocolate skin, and wondered how he felt to be so unique in a sea of pale-skinned people.

His skin contrasted with his robe; his robe contrasted with that of the officials.

They all wore black robes with gold thread embroidered into the Innoish word for 'life' and artistic designs of the sun along their sleeves. And while the Emperor and his advisor wore their hair freely, all the officials had theirs up into a top knot secured by a red ribbon that fell to their hips.