A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 610: The Day Before The Mission - Part 4

Lancelot could tell that he was being made fun of. He allowed a thin smile that held no humour. "Or perhaps the next time you decide to foil such an over-the-top assassination attempt, you should leave less of a mess. Perhaps don’t crack a skull against the wall? I heard that three guards lost the contents of their stomachs upon seeing it. I struggled to retain it myself."

"He told me that he had all sorts of secrets locked inside his head," Oliver said, "I thought if I opened it, I’d see if he was right." Stay connected via novelbuddy

Lancelot held his gaze for a little too long. Oliver’s smile was just a little bit too strong. It was hard to tell whether he was joking or not. Lancelot shivered. "You have a taste for violence. It would seem that allying ourselves with you was a poor move after all."

"There are worse men than me, Lancelot," Oliver said, "especially for violence."

He had Greeves in mind. If he had the power to, Greeves would do far worse than Oliver had. Oliver had only done the bare minimum.

"I do not doubt there are," Lancelot said, "but none of those men are near my Lady. You are, however unfortunate that might be. I would have that you restrain yourself. Do not sully her with your ways."

"It is certainly not my intention to change your Lady, Lancelot," Oliver said honestly. "Were she any different, I would be a dead man."

"Are you two arguing already?" Asabel’s voice echoed down the corridor, as they heard her feet on the tiles, marching towards them. She got there too quickly. Oliver turned around, and she was right there, in front of him, as dazzling as Claudia herself.

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Whether she’d dressed up for the occasion, or whether she was just returning from something else, it was hard to say, but this was the most royal he’d ever seen her. Her golden hair was done up in an ornate bun by her right ear, keeping it well clear of her neck and showing off those dangling earrings that hung from her ears.

She looked far more grown up than she had in the Minister’s Hall. Far more grown up than she had in their last meeting. There was makeup on her cheeks, but it wasn’t overdone, at least not that Oliver could tell, for he had no eye for it. He was struck by a sudden sadness in his chest, like a knife to the heart. It was obvious why she had to dress as such, and behave as such.

She was attempting to appear more grown up than she was, with the position that she’d put herself in.

She should have had far longer. It seemed as though it had been her intention to Quarter Inherit regardless, but it was Oliver who had forced her to do it so young. She was beautiful, indeed she was, but knowing the circumstances behind her dress, Oliver could appreciate it for what it was. His false cheeriness was wiped away like a sledgehammer to an icy sculpture. His words caught in his throat.

He could say nothing, do nothing, but turn away.

"Oliver?" She asked, smiling kindly at him, apparently oblivious to his inner turmoil. She tilted her head to the side curiously, as he and Lancelot blocked the entrance to the doorway. "Forgive me for overhearing you. But I do not wish to hear talk of you calling yourself a dead man, even in jest. Our words have more power than people give them credit for."

"Very wise indeed," Verdant said, nodding approvingly from across the room. He’d been glancing out of the balcony window, making himself quite at home before the Princess arrived. "You look stunning, Princess Asabel," he said, holding a hand to his chest as he bowed to her.

Oliver was surprised by how quickly that got Asabel to blush. Asabel felt the warmth of her own cheeks with her hand, and the fact that she was blushing seemed to embarrass her even further. "Goodness, Verdant… Was this whole priestly phase a ploy just so you could catch me so off guard one day?"

"He isn’t wrong," Lancelot said. "You did not believe me, but I did warn you. Now that you dress as such, do not be surprised when men are stunned by your beauty. For instance, that idiot standing in front of you."

It was such a targeting arrow that it could have come from Nila. He felt Lancelot jab him in the arm in annoyance, and only then did he remember to move.

"Don’t be foolish," Asabel said with a laugh. "Our beloved Oliver stood down a whole room of enemies and did not flinch. Do not pretend I hold even the slightest sway over him."

"Which room full of enemies was this?" Oliver asked, recovering himself, managing a small smile as he stepped back out of her way.

She laughed even more warmly this time, as she shook her head, and followed him inside, her little canine tooth showing beneath her lip. "I should not laugh," she caught herself, but she was still smiling. "It is a terrible thing that you’ve been in multiple rooms full of enemies of late."

"And look who rescued me," Oliver said, "the stunning Princess Asabel." It was the only way he could find to hit the elephant in the room, just as Lancelot and Verdant had. Disguising it as a joke, he swept his arm and gave her a bow.

"Save you?" Asabel said. She didn’t laugh this time. "I hope that’s not the way you see it."

He looked up, surprised to find a refutation there. "Did you not?" He asked. "I doubt I’d have secured more than a single vote if not for your intervention."

"In a just world, you would never have been in that position in the first place," Asabel said firmly. "I did not save you. No – it would be ludicrous for me to say so. It was the shameful machinations of royalty that had you chained up. I merely did my duty. I ask that you see that for what it was."