A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"And, could you tell us quite what happened?" Jolamire pressed, a devilish smile on his lips that he was struggling to hide. Hod was leaning forward in his stone throne with his eyes narrowed, looking, searching.

"What happened…?" Redborne repeated, her eyes misting over as she did so. "Oh, what a dreadful occasion it was… My beautiful retainer Felicity. A gorgeous, hardworking girl. As bright as a button and everso loyal.

She's so refined that some even mistake her for nobility… Of course, such a gem is no stranger to unfortunate attentions… As we all are," she flicked her red hair back with her hand, seeming to imply that she herself was part of that beautiful and much-pursued group.

The Ministers remained quiet, and waited for her to continue.

"Well… uhm… there's no easy way to say this, but Oliver Patrick was one such unwanted bit of attention," she said, almost whispering it, as though it was court gossip.

It was only then that Oliver realized who she was – or at least, who she wasn't. He'd been studying her intently from the moment she'd been introduced as an acquaintance, looking for signs on her that he recognized… and there hadn't been a single thing to jog his memory. The reason finally became clear to him. He'd never met this woman in his life.

"I understand, such matters are delicate… Please, take your time," the Minister of Information said gently.

"Thank you… Of course, Felicity refused him. A good, honest girl. She knows the stories of Oliver Patrick, and she worried for her station. But Oliver Patrick, as you might imagine… does not take no for an answer."

The hall was deathly quiet as they hung on her words, puzzling through exactly what she was implying. There began a series of increasingly disgusted looks being shot Oliver's way, particularly from the women amongst the nobility, but there were some men sending the same looks his way as well.

"You mean to imply…?" Jolamire pressed.
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"Indeed. Oliver Patrick did not listen to no, it didn't matter how many times it was said. I attempted to intervene before things went too far… But that didn't stop him. He attacked her when she was alone, and… He didn't listen when she said no," Redborne said.

Oliver sat back against his wall. He could feel the gazes of the guards on him, the weight of their accusations. He was quite sure that it couldn't get worse than being on trial for murder… but he'd been wrong. Being accused of… that, of all things, was a stain on his reputation that he couldn't easily wash away. It was the sort of thing that would make even friends look at you differently.

His well-sculpted calm frayed at that. An outright lie, a completely made-up allegation. That look on Jolamire's face confirmed it. Hod seemed to understand that too, for his fury was rising, as his hand gripped the arm of his throne with an ever-increasing ferocity. Jolamire even had to turn around at one point to hide his smile. It was all too evident then.

The girl, for her part, had a falseness to her that was easily seen through when one was searching for it. But would anyone be searching for it? They saw the criminal Oliver Patrick and they ate up the added controversy as an easy-to-understand fact, condemning him for it.

"He did that, did he?" Jolamire said, when he was finally able to control his face enough to make it a serious mask. "Then he will be condemned for it. Fear not, child, he shall not leave here today without escaping justice. That is our purpose, after all. General Tavar, we cede the floor to the Minister of Logic. We thank our witness Miss Redborne for her time."

Jolamire readily dismissed her. The whole testimony had been awfully short when compared to the others, but it was weighty enough that it didn't matter. It was a false bombshell of the worst kind, and there was nought much they could do to defuse it.

Even the girl herself seemed almost disappointed that it was over already, but that did not stop her from marching towards the doors with the same smugness that she'd come there with – if anything, it had only increased. It was hard to imagine a woman more obsessed with her own vanity than her.

"Minister of Logic, the floor is yours," Tavar said, rising from his seat for a brief moment, before he sat back down again, a grave expression on his face, as his hand was under his chin, and he engaged in deep contemplation.

Angry, Hod strode back to the centre. He eyed Tavar and he eyed Gavlin. "This is what happens when you allow deceit free reign for so long, Ministers. Deceit itself becomes truth – it even becomes worth more than truth. Reap your bed of lives. We all suffer for our inattentiveness."

Those were words exclusively reserved for the Ministers. Lazarus and Jolamire betrayed no reaction. Lazarus acted as though he didn't know that words were directed at him, whilst Jolamire lounged on his silver throne as though he'd just completed a troublesome task, and could now relax fittingly.

Hod was like a caged animal in the way he marched to and fro. "Those Lords that are amongst you, how well do you see through façade?" He challenged them. He did not need to point out what the façade was – indeed, to point it out would be to invite the other Ministers to challenge it.

Just as they had no conclusive proof that such an act had happened, so too did he have no way of proving that she was lying.

"I spoke earlier of a strong nation, the future of this one," Hod said, "I spoke of a past that brought us the glories that we now all indulge in as though they're afternoon wine. Every possession we own is stained in the blood of our ancestors.

I do not expect complete reverence at every moment of the day, but I do hope for at least some measure of self-restraint… Some goodwill towards that which is not ours. A temporary reprieve from abject selfishness, as we eye the good of the country as a whole, rather than merely what benefits our faction."