[1194] – Y06.094 – Trouble in Our Hearts IV
With the great display from Laygak, who had shown the nearby figures his resolve, the young Expert managing to clash against one of their great warriors, the air lightened. The Primrose Sword hadn’t expected Laygak to have such a great showing considering his words, but no one could deny the Iyrman’s spirit.
“I apologise for the harshness,” Jurot said, hoping to clear the air.
“Though our Order may be new, you should still show us the appropriate respect,” the woman replied, her tone holding the slightest bit of annoyance.
“Have we shown a lack of respect?” Adam asked, crossing his arms as he stood a little taller.
“Your jokes go too far.”
“What jokes did I make?” Adam asked innocently. “That becoming a Master at twenty three isn’t impressive? Do you know how many people I know that became Masters at that age?”
The woman narrowed her eyes at the half elf, feeling the heat of annoyance fill her, a common experience that one expected of the half elf.
“If not that, then… is it that Taygak is going to carve her name into this land? That’s just a fact. So is it that you, the Primrose Sword, failed to bring my head to the King? Was that a joke? That if I lost, I would have allowed you to take me the King, cuffed? That was true too.”
“Adam,” Jurot called, raising a hand to stop the half elf for a moment. He leaned in to whisper into Adam’s ear, covering his mouth so no one could read his lips.
Adam glared at the woman, but let out a sigh. “We, of United Kindom, did not come to fight. I certainly acted inappropriately, due to the slights I felt you had displayed towards my family. I’m still not used to speaking with you noblefolk, I am but a humble Executive of a business dealing with magical items, its High Alchemist, who is better known for winning tournaments, well, one tournament, and killing a Vice Commander.”
“Adam,” Jurot called, whispering into his ear. “You must take it more seriously, and show sincerity.”
The half elf’s eyes glanced aside towards the rest of the figures all around them, noting the faces of the Order, who he had met for the first time that day, and had, from their point of view, picked a fight with their Grand Commander. ‘Damn it.’
Sir Paige kept an eye on the half elf as he inhaled deeply and let out a deep sigh, so obviously releasing his frustrations, before he stood taller and held a particular glare within his eye, not the enraged glare he had tried to intimidate her with, but one that was far more serious.
“We of the United Kindom know that the Order of the Preserving Primrose has its duties, and those duties at one point had us cross blades. However, as I was pardoned by your King, and with the greater threat having befallen our lands, I would like to declare that we of the United Kindom would like to form better relations with you. It is…” Adam paused, trying to formulate the words properly, pushing away whatever negative emotions he had. “Sometimes, we might make mistakes on our end, and sometimes you might make mistakes on your end, but I hope we can both navigate the relationship in a way that trends towards positivity. Towards that end…”
Sir Paige watched the half elf’s hands carefully, for at first he reached towards his inner robe, causing the figures around to grow on edge, but his hands slowed and he purposefully reached into his robe calmly, before taking out a small silver plaque, about the size of one’s finger, a rather wide and narrow finger. It was easily worth tens of silver, but she noted the engravings within the silver, that which was near identical to the symbol upon the Brother’s breastplate, a cross with a tilted cross behind it.
“I hope you are willing to accept this token of our friendship,” Adam said, holding the silver with one hand, and his wrist with his free hand, bowing his head lightly.
“What is it?” Sir Paige asked, keeping Adam in the submissive gesture, though not for her ego.
“It is a favour. If you bring it to our business, you may return it and we will grant you an appropriate favour, or, if you would prefer, a Greater Enhanced weapon that we may discuss the specifications of.”
‘What did he just say?’ the woman thought, blinking towards the half elf. She took in his sight, and though for a moment he could see the annoyance within his eyes, he forced it away to try and seem neutral.
“It is our hope you will accept the gift,” Jurot said.
The woman took the Iyrman’s hint and plucked the silver from the half elf’s fingers, feeling the weight of the metal within her gloved hand, staring at the polished silver, and the engravings within. “Did you say this would grant us a Greater Enhanced weapon?”
“Yeah, that’s-,” Adam began, but he cleared his throat. “Yes, that is correct.”
“…” Sir Paige looked into Jurot’s eyes, the Iyrman nodding his head, before she returned her attention back to Adam. ‘If I had known you came bearings gifts…’
“Could we speak privately?” Jurot asked, noting the woman trying to think about how to navigate the situation.
“Very well.”
“Adam, come,” Jurot said, motioning with his head once the Primrose Sword had begun to guide him away.
The pair followed the Grand Commander of the Primrose to the central hut, made of wood and mud, though Adam spotted it was not simple wood, but it was Jurot who understood this wood was quite extraordinary, and that it was once used in the making of the thrones of the various nobles across the lands.
The room she brought them to was fairly bare, with cabinets to one side, a round wooden table in the centre, five seats around the table, a lit fireplace, and another door leading out beside the banner. The banner held their symbol, that of the round primrose, lilac upon white, similar to Petal Grove’s design and colours. There was also a small bowl full of earth, which held a stick of incense, the woman lighting the incense to allow the gentle aroma to fill the air. The oppressive figure opened a cabinet and brought out three cups, and as she placed the short, fat kettle upon the table, it began to hiss lightly, warming the water within.
“Let us speak without airs,” Jurot said.
Sir Paige bowed her head, her eyes snapping to the half elf. “You wished to form a positive relationship with us?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you behave with such hostility?”
Adam groaned quietly, reaching up to scratch his itchy face, doing his best to fight away the annoyance. “Look, I uh… when it comes to my family, I’m very… I mean, my name is the Crazy Father, you know? I don’t mind if you draw your sword on me, but if you come for my family, I get a little… passionate.”
“Did you expect me to treat you with respect if that is how you behaved?”
“Right back at you,” Adam replied. “You’re the one who started acting all uppity when talking to a man half, a third, your age.”
“You spoke so dismissively of a high achievement.”
“It’s called a joke, and I was praising our Taygak, who you need to keep an eye on, because she’s going to take the world by storm.”
“Did your man, Laygak, not bare his fangs towards us?”
“Laygak was right, though. You’re acting like you didn’t try to cut me down last year, or did you forget?” Adam huffed, wanting to press the issue, but he could feel Jurot’s eyes upon him. “Laygak’s just proud that one of his family managed to keep you at bay, a young lady of twenty three at the time, who you struggled against in your clash. Something like that… you should have just let him show off!”
“I showed enough mercy today.”
“Mercy?” Adam asked, feeling his body flash white hot, but Jurot slapped his hand against the table.
“Do not speak of mercy, Primrose Sword,” Jurot said, his voice laced with venom. “You forget yourself.”
“Is that what you meant when you said you wished to form a good relationship?”
“You must remember,” Jurot said, leaning forward towards the woman. “If not for my brother’s mercy, my grandfather, the Mad Dog, would have come to take your head.”
“Do you-,”
“My grandaunt, Flame Brand, would not allow grandfather to rampage alone. My granduncle, the Bearded Dragon, would have charged alongside them. My granduncle, Duteos Dogek, would have wished to beat another Grand Commander. My granduncle, Butcher Marmak, would have not allowed them to have their fun without him. My granduncle, Tarukan, also regretted not being able to fight the previous year. You have forgotten, Florian, that though we do not have the same relationship with Floria as we do Aldland, the land in which we may act as we please, that we Iyrmen care little for those who deny us our justice,” Jurot stated firmly, feeling the heat prickle at the back of his neck as he battered the woman with the names of those he was related to, each grand figures.
Sir Paige clenched her fist tightly, though relaxed as Jurot pulled away, calming himself.
“There is no need to speak of mercy, for we travel with Taygak, and you would not harm us so, because you are wiser than your Aldish counterparts,” Jurot said, striking the woman with a back handed compliment, but making sure she understood her place in all this.
“Alright, let’s stop bullying the Primrose Sword now,” Adam said, finding the conversation had turned dangerous, since there was the most minuscule chance they could accidentally cause Taygak to die by wounding the woman’s pride too much, and if nothing else, Adam was able to grovel for the sake of his family’s safety.
At the beginning Jurot tried to stop Adam from getting himself killed, and by the end...
Also this is what I mean. I keep forgetting how many crazy monsters the Iyrmen are related to, especially in the way they consider themselves related. Jurot mentioned at least five different names, and he had at least a few more he could pull out of his pocket, and each of them would if not outright beat the sense out of the Primrose Sword, could at least clash with her.
No wonder Jurot always wants the smoke.
What do you think?
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