A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1336 - 1336: The Young General Slayer - Part 2

So it was, that he rested his head on his elbow, and with every divot in the road, his head was tossed from his resting position, and he was forced to tut.

"Are you going to tut for the entirety of the journey?" Lasha asked in distaste. "As your retainer, I think that to be unbecoming behaviour, my Lord."

Oliver glared at her. Somehow, he thought that she was having more fun out of their whole new Lord-retainer relationship than he was.

"My Lord will likely be irritated the entirety of the journey," Verdant assured her. "It would be best not to rile him up in the meantime."

"Is that right?" Lasha said, innocently enough. "That must be terrible."

Oliver forced a smile, and bit back whatever he was about to say. There were few fun things to be had in a carriage journey, and arguing with Lasha would have at least been one of them – for the duration that it happened. But the awkwardness that would almost certainly follow it was enough to make him hold his tongue.

"Oho, a rare act of will," Lasha commented. That settled it for Oliver – she really had intentionally found a nerve of his to peck at, and she was having the greatest degree of pleasure in seeing the way his glare intensified with every passing comment. She turned to Verdant. "To think that he was in such a good mood yesterday, when we made our return."

"Since when did Lasha Blackthorn talk this much?" Oliver growled. "Have I been given the defective version of the retainer? Is there a way of parcelling this one up, and sending her back for the quieter version? Do you suppose that our new smith might be able to fix whatever is wrong with her with that hammer of his, Verdant?"

"I do not think hammers do much work in fixing humans, my Lord, unless by fixing them you mean to kill them, in which case, there are a few individuals that I would put forth as being in need of fixing," Verdant said.

"Lasha Blackthorn?" Oliver offered helpfully.

"I do not think you should be talking of killing your newest retainer, my Lord," Verdant said.

"Indeed, my Lord," Lasha said, with a perfect mask of an expression. "That is quite unbecoming of you. What if you were to hurt that person's feelings?"

"Then I would have achieved a rare feat that no one else seems to have achieved before," Oliver said, almost pouting in his indignation… But he had to admit, even though he'd sworn to avoid arguing with Lasha, this sort of argument, wrapped up in a new element of intrigue, wasn't altogether not fun.

It was especially amusing to see Jorah in the carriage with them, nestled uncomfortably, feeling quite out of place amongst the nobility, and knowing not at all what he should say.

They'd brought Kaya and Karesh along with them too, to serve as guardsmen, and though they had been inclined towards bringing Firyr, they'd brought Yorick instead to go along with them, knowing quite well that Firyr had been unable to hold his brutishness in, even in front of General Blackwell, so it certainly seemed unlikely that he would do much better in the Capital.

The three of them flanked the carriage from the outside, riding on horseback, and Oliver could not have been much more jealous of them. They were able to properly glance at the world around them as they travelled, drinking it all in.

Oliver was forced to be content with the view that his window offered, but there was more than once, in a village, or looking over the remnants of a recently harvested field, that he might have wished to turn around, and take in more of it.

"My Lord has a cat-like quality to him with the way he looks out of the carriage window," Lasha noted at one point.

"Cat-like, do you think?" Verdant said, considering it, as if it was one of the world's most serious problems. "Mm. I suppose I do see a cat-like nature in him, at times. Though it does rarely show itself. Ah, but is a Tiger not a cat? Yes, indeed, cat-like.

Well spotted, Lady Blackthorn."

That was quite clearly not where Lasha had been going with it, but being the loyal man that Verdant was, he failed to see through what was quite clearly her attempt at merely poking a little bit of fun. All Oliver could do was narrow his eyes at Lasha, when the opportunity presented itself, in a rather petty attempt at showing his disapproval for her comment.

The girl, in response, acted bemused, but she soon enough turned away, with her hand covering her mouth, and Oliver was quite certain he could just barely see the corner of her lips curled up into a smile. It almost made him smile himself – he had to fight it.

'I suppose this journey isn't as bad as I thought it would be,' Oliver thought. There was something to playing the role of the impetuous Lord that was rather enjoyable. It made him feel rather childish. It seemed to be the far safer option than dangerous.

If he were to play at dangerousness, and entertain the thoughts that charged at the edge of his mind, begging for his attention, the further they came to the Capital, then he thought the chances of him storming the King's hall with sword in hand would begin to increase to degrees more than they should.

He managed to keep his relative sanity – if one could call it that – all the way up to the closest village outside the Captial. But once the Capital buildings started to come into view, along with the Royal Captial itself, he could not help but attach the white brick and gold to the High King of his memories, and give nourishment to his growing sense of hostility.

"Your sharpness increases, my Lord," Verdant warned. "The guards would fear that they might be cut if they were to try the carriage door at this juncture. Perhaps it might be better to take a break, before we go any further..?"