A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1421 - 1421: An Unexpected Guest - Part 3

Only when there was the gentle click of the door, after the servants had left with their trays, did Ferdinand begin his speaking, in seeing that the Patrick group seemed intent on keeping their silence.

"To what do you owe my pleasure today, I expect you are wondering?" Ferdinand said, doing his best to give a smile that seemed playful, but the like of shine in his eyes only made his tiredness seem that much more extreme, when his curled lips failed to match them.

"Indeed, that is the foremost question on my mind," Oliver said. "I thought you might be busy with other matters."

"…Does that wording come with an intended jab?" Ferdinand said.

"Perhaps an unintended one," Oliver replied.

"You've given me tasks upon tasks, Patrick," Ferdinand said. "If I were a baser man, I would reach for my sword to challenge you with, such is my fury. But the Gods blessed me with the sense enough to know that I would see no success there."

"I suppose that is the natural consequence of fierce competition," Oliver said mildly.

"…You certainly seem to be quite contented with your lot," Ferdinand said, the bitterness evident. "Things are going as well as they can be, from what I hear."

"I would not dare say that aloud," Oliver said. "The Gods delight in their games. If it does indeed seem that circumstances are better for us than they were before, then I'd assure you that the Gods are only softening us up, such that when their deliverance arrives, it rocks us all the more heartily."

Oliver inclined his head ever so slightly in response. In truth, things were going well. It wasn't just the matter with the tournament. It was everything together. Never in Oliver's life, or at least, not since he was a child, had he felt such a profound sense of peace.

Naturally, he had his wants, and his desires, for they were as ingrained into his flesh as his genetics were, but that didn't stop the warmth from spreading. It made him feel dazed. His increased closeness to Nila was like a spell that he dared not say anything to, for fear that it might break.

Indeed, the peacefulness was so profound, so overwhelming, that emptiness quickly threatened to take its place. For he knew that it would not continue forever. Things would change. The dominos would shift, and destiny would once more take its violent course forward. Fearing that change, and that future, the emptiness that Oliver felt loomed ever so near. It brought forth a sense of resignation, when he should merely have been enjoying what was. He found himself almost wishing to cling to the moment, harder than he ever had before.

He wished he had the intensity to meet Ferdinand with, for that was the state that he was most comfortable in. But he found on that day, he could not yet summon up the wilful anger that would be needed to prod the man, and give rise to the discord that they'd had before. He found, instead, that he was far more content simply to watch, and wait, and see what direction the young Lordling wished to take matters in, before Oliver himself chose to go on the attack.

"Tsch," Ferdinand tutted. "No one wants to see an opponent with that kind of look on his face. It seems I've lost to you in more ways than one."

"Are you announcing your defeat, then?" Oliver said.

"…If you mean to ask me whether I'm putting an end to the competition and declaring you the victor, I would say I wasn't," Ferdinand said stubbornly. "However, I have come to you with a proposal, if you would care to listen to one, from a man that you have declared to be your enemy."

"I am more than willing to listen," Oliver said. "You have travelled all this way, after all, despite the cold. I imagine you wouldn't do that without reason."

"Quite. I have noted the preparations that you have been putting forth, for this ridiculous tournament idea of yours. And that father of mine has given you his blessing," Ferdinand said. "If not for that, you would be sunk in the water. I hope you will not gloat too thoroughly."

Oliver grinned, and threaded his hands together. "Come now, Ferdinand, surely you would not deny the fact that the convincing of Lord Blackwell was a merit in and of itself. It is not as though his blessing fell from the sky, and he favoured me without reason. It is simply that my plan appealed to him more than the small-scale attacks that you were putting together."

"Or more like, my father did not see this for the attack that it is," Ferdinand said. "You aimed to drive a shit-covered spear into my stomach with this. I can assure you, the blow aches just as maliciously as you intended it to. Do you always aim to humiliate your enemies in such a fashion?"

"Well, if that is the result, then I can not say that I am altogether dissatisfied with it," Oliver said. "Though, the conception of the idea was not merely to irritate you. I am sure you would appreciate that it achieves far more than besting you in our little competition."

"…I have to admit that it does," Ferdinand said. "It is not a move that I nor the Guild could have foreseen."

"And on the matter of the Guild, do you have any reassurances to offer me?" Oliver said. "It was quite the mess that we were subjected to, in taking only a single smith out of your city walls. Surely Lord Blackwell's heir would not tolerate a mere merchant's guild holding such corrupt power over even the nobility of your fine city."

"Steps have been taken," Ferdinand said stiffly. "Ones that have limited my ability to compete with you."

"At least, I can say that you seem to be taking your duties seriously," Oliver said. "That is commendable."

"I do not need your commendations, Ser Patrick," Ferdinand said, his irritation evident.

"Then, what is it you came for?" Oliver said.