A salty breeze plays with your hair as you ride alongside your lover, Hermes, in his chariot.

One of his golden wings is tightly wrapped around you, acting to both protect you from the weather and the humans observing. There is a ball tonight, and all of the gods are going. Hermes, being the playful god he is, has never brought a human lover with him.

Until tonight.

His blue eyes shine bright, and there's a broad grin across his face, his dimples prevalent, but the brush of his feathers on your arm serves to prove his mild fear. Hermes doesn't care what people think of him, nor will their opinion change his feelings for you.

However, he is worried what their words will do to you. Nobody hurts his woman, nobody brings your feelings down or upsets you.

As his chariot travels towards the grand palace the ball is being held at, reporters stand outside, taking pictures and shouting questions. A commotion breaks out when they notice you with Hermes.

"What's your name?" One reporter calls.

"Does Hermes have one lover, or many?" Another asks.

His hand brushes your subtly and his wing wraps around you like a protective shield.

"Are you doing okay, my love?"