A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Oliver steeled himself, preparing mentally for the coming onslaught. Asabel noticed them, and positively beamed. She stood up eagerly, flashing them the most genuine smile Oliver had ever seen from the nobility – though, in fact, she was royalty of course – revealing a row of white teeth, a single canine that sat out of symmetry from the rest, just a little bit twisted, and just a little bit longer.

Somehow, that which should have been a blemish on her beauty only served to accentuate it. It made her seem more real, more earthly, and thus more beautiful.

That defence that Oliver had attempted to build up was immediately flattened. He didn't think he'd ever been stunned by a woman before. At least, not by a woman's smile. But Asabel effortlessly disarmed him, as though she had claws extending right through the centre of his heart. It was terrifying. How was he meant to stand up to that?

"Oliver!" She said heartily. Could any actor be that good? Could anyone seem that genuinely pleased to see him when they were not? If so, if it was indeed all an act… then she was likely the most frightening woman on the campus. But, in equal parts, if it wasn't, it was just as terrifying. She'd only met him once, at his worst.

There could be no joy in seeing him again after seeing that. "You came."

"I did, Your Highness," Oliver said stiffly, adopting the formal bow that he'd refined under Verdant's guidance.

"Oh, please. Don't be so formal. Stiffness will ruin the tea," she said, continuing with a smile. "I'm glad to see you well. I worried that you wouldn't be able to attend."

"I'm doing quite well, thank you, Your Highness," Oliver said again, disguising his thanks as something that could be interpreted another way, hoping to slide it past Verdant and Jorah's watchful eye.

"Could it be that Her Highness already found out about our expedition?" Verdant asked in surprise. It was the logical conclusion, given what they were talking about.

"Ah, and you as well, dear Verdant," she said, gracefully sliding close to him, and patting him on the shoulder. "It has been many years since we last met. I am glad to see you so well. You have a strong look in your eyes – I'm envious. In regards to an expedition, though, I must admit that I'm well and truly in the dark," she said, tilting her head. "How about you, Lancelot?"

The knight sniffed disdainfully. "The movements of a minor noble are not of common interest, I'm afraid," he said, at once delivering a jab, and also answering his Lady's question.

"Lancelot," Asabel said firmly. Even without mentioning explicitly what he'd done wrong, Lancelot to the note, and looked away, a hint of guilt written on his face. She turned back to them, a gracious host. "Well, it would seem that we have our topic of conversation, no? That is if you're willing to talk of it with me. Oh, but do please, take a seat.

Do you have any preference for tea? Mary here makes a lovely cup. I don't know quite how she does it."

They moved to be seated on the sofa opposite her. Oliver sat, his sword clanging against the edge of the chair as he did so. He almost blushed at his lack of grace, but he kept his jaw set hard. He noticed Verdant share a word with Jorah before he sat, and Jorah moved to stand behind them, keeping his eyes set forward, and his face placid.

"I'm surprised you seated yourself, Idris," Lancelot noted. "I thought you were a servant now?" He himself was still standing, off to his Lady's side, closer than any other. He did have some degree of dangerousness about him. Oliver wondered if it was possible that he'd made it through the Second Boundary yet… If so, it hadn't been formally announced.

Lancelot was in his final year at the Academy, so it wouldn't have been an impossibility.

"Leave him, Lancelot," Asabel said, "Verdant is as much a guest here as any other. You used to be friends, did you not? Do not tease him so."

"There's a handful of years between us, I wouldn't call us friends," Lancelot murmured.

Verdant ignored the comment, and settled into his seat, his back straight, and his posture elegant. He looked to be the main guest here, Oliver thought. When compared to Oliver himself, it seemed far more likely that Oliver would be his guard than anything else.

"Tea?" A quiet attendant asked Oliver from his side. Mary, Oliver guessed, given what Asabel had said earlier.

"Uhm, do you have berry tea?" Oliver said, quietly enough. It was a favourite of his. Fruit teas, he decided, were in fact, the best. They were one reason amongst many why he was so grateful for his noble position. Beautiful food, beautiful teas. What more could a man want?

He thought he'd spoken quietly enough, but Lancelot overheard. He guffawed as he repeated it. "Berry tea?" He said. "I'd heard you were a monster, not a little girl."

"Lancelot!" Asabel said, furious, though she was struggling to hold back her own smile. "That is a remarkably adorable discovery though, I must say, Oliver. For someone with such a dangerous look in his eye, a berry tea does seem quite the juxtaposition."

Oliver managed to keep his cool. "I wasn't aware the tea had such implications. But it's pleasant. I'm fond of it, and if you have it, I'll drink it."

It was with Dominus' manner he said that. Dominus wouldn't have fumbled at the revelation of a weakness. He would have been immovable, unplaceable, and simply presented it as a matter of course. Oliver carried that out as best he could, though inside he was screaming. No one had mentioned at dinner or lunch that his berry teas were odd…

"Would you like honey with that?" Mary asked, unphased. Lancelot guffawed even harder at the question, almost breaking into a full-on laugh.