A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"Will that work for you, Ser Patrick?" Blackthorn asked.

"Ser Patrick?" Oliver said. "You're addressing me properly as well? I suppose if you're taking it that seriously, I don't need to worry about you securing Asabel's favour… Not that I'd expect her to turn you down regardless. Very well, I guess I'll put a similar amount of effort in. I do owe you for the trial, after all."

She dipped her head, and said her thanks quietly before leaving. "You've truly gone out of your way with this, Ser Patrick, I thank you. I knew it was an unreasonable request when I asked it in your room… but to think that there would be hope."

Before Oliver could even make to reply, she was already moving away. She'd delivered her thanks as though it were a dose of poison, hiding her expression from both Oliver's retainers and her own. From the look of them, they didn't seem to realize that she'd said anything at all. Continue your saga on My Virtual Library Empire

"I will send word of tonight's timings when I know of it," Oliver called after her. Pauline turned around to bow her thanks.

"Hm? Why have you gone red?" Karesh asked, noticing the blush on Kaya's cheeks.

"H-huh? No reason," Kaya said quickly, wiping his face, as though that would help. Jorah said nothing, though his smile seemed to be abandoning his friend.@@novelbin@@

"I will handle the delivery of that message this evening, if you wish it, my Lord," Jorah said instead, preemptively.

Oliver nodded.

Oliver was surprised by their choice of meeting place. He'd grown almost accustomed to marching all the way to Asabel's chambers on the top floor of the Yellow Castle. He'd thoroughly expected to end up there again.

Instead, it was Verdant's chambers that they were set to dine in. Apparently, it would have been impolite to have the Pendragon's accommodate them for a third time, and since they were the ones proposing the meeting this time, Verdant had insisted on using his own suites and servants for that purpose. Of which, he'd only just begun to acquire once more, as befitting his title of a lordling.

His father had ensured that, whilst he still resided in the Academy, that Verdant would be subject to the treatment that a Lord – not just a mere heir – should have. Treatment that exceeded a lordling of student status. As a member of staff, as he supposedly still was – though Oliver did not know what new position had been given to him – he was entitled to far better accommodation than the rest.

And indeed, it was pleasant enough. Well, pleasant was an understatement. Pleasant was what royalty would term it, after being accustomed to their richly decorated chambers. They would find nothing wrong with it, but they wouldn't have been blown away by it either.

For Oliver, who still had a peasant's outlook on the world, it felt like a blow to the jaw that his retainer – a man that was meant to be serving him – was able to live in such luxurious accommodation.

Two lordling suites on the second floor of the Red Castle had been put together for that purpose, and they'd been redecorated in a hurry. Some of the rooms still – apparently – were not done, but one would never know that as they were led inside.

Of course, Oliver had been brought ahead of the rest. It was a strange thing, but Oliver himself was apparently the host. It was the sort of lie that all of them could see through – Blackthorn knew what kind of chambers Oliver dwelled in, and Asabel had caught a glimpse as well – but it was still the sort of thing that was expected of nobility.

They would not comment on it, being the formality that it was, and they would even thank him for his supposed hospitality.

Oliver dwelled in a high-backed wooden chair, with a generous cushion, as the servants busied themselves around him. He wore his best clothing, after having changed back at his room.

He made sure to include the coat that Blackthorn had bought him – for it was by far his most lavish item of clothing- though it now hung open, given the warmth of the room and the many roaring fires, showcasing its fine lining, and the blue of his clothes beneath.

Judas, Karesh and Kaya had all been assigned jobs of their own. They were to function as guardsmen, and welcome the guests when was needed.

Verdant still only had ten retainers of his own – which to Oliver was an enormous number of them – and apparently, that was insufficient to run a household of this size with, especially if they were hosting royalty. So concessions needed to be made, making the whole thing more complicated than it ought to have been.

The ex-priest resided over it all, giving directions where needed, and ensuring everything was going according to plan.

It was hard to see that side of him, and imagine at all that he'd donned priestly robes at a time. He was even beginning to grow his hair back. In time, he would look like any other high-standing noble heir, Oliver supposed.

He clutched a cup of tea, and made a mock expression of being deep in thought, as though having so many people running for his purpose was something that he was entirely used to. Of course, that was far from being the case, and he felt almost an itch to do something. It seemed impossible to relax, in a room where everyone else is busy.

"Kaya, straighten up," Verdant called over from the hallway. "The appointed time is upon us. The Princess is liable to be here at any minute."

Oliver glanced at the grandfather clock, seeing what Verdant said to be the truth. The pendulum swung back and forth, counting away the seconds, as Kaya nervously sought to comply with Verdant's point.

They all had ceremonial swords at their hips. Ceremonial only in their appearance, for they were still quite functional, and sharpened to a vicious edge. Oliver had cleaned his sword and brought it as well. It would have been strange to go anywhere important without it now, given how accustomed he'd grown to its weight and its general presence.