A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1425 - 1425: The Tournament - Part 3

"Were you told that Queen Asabel had already arrived?" Oliver said.

"Already?" Nila said, bouncing even higher, as she hoped from foot to foot, trying to drag Oliver towards the stairs, so she might hurry him outside. "I thought she might come on the final day, given how busy she is… But she's here already. She's ever so kind, Oliver. We really must let her know how much we appreciate her coming. Did you manage to see her last night?"

"I did, but we didn't manage to talk much," Oliver said. "I'm sure they'll come to an opportunity later on, where we can give her our thanks."

"Don't forget to. I need to give my thanks as well," Nila said. "For what she did in defending us, and everything since then. Do you think they will let me? Given that I'm… you know, nowhere near her rank?"

"Asabel isn't the sort to concern herself with the likes of that," Oliver said. "Besides, you can come with me."

"I wouldn't want to get in the way," Nila said. "You two have been friends for a good few years. You wouldn't be able to talk the same with me there."

Oliver put a hand on her head, and ruffled it. "You don't need to go out of your way. Asabel isn't the sort to hold back."

"Hey!" Nila pouted, fending away his hand. "It took me ages to get it right! Did you really have to go and mess it up?"

"It's not that messed up," Oliver smiled, patting it back into place. "Besides, it was Mrs Felder who did it, wasn't it? You wouldn't have the patience to do all those braids."

He pointed at the many thin braids that decorated the sides of Nila's head, and fed into the main braid at the back of her head. She looked very much what she was – the beautiful and professional huntress. Mrs Felder, as always, had done a good job of accentuating her daughter's charms, taking great care to show off Nila's femininity, when the girl herself preferred to dress far more tomboyish in nature.

Nila was hardly seen anywhere without her hunting boots these days, and that day was no exception. But Oliver was quite sure that this was a pair that he hadn't seen before, with a more lady-like flare of red tassels trailing from the back of them – not the sort of thing Nila would ever choose herself if she was to go hunting.

She was even wearing a ruffled blouse that showed far more of her neckline than the shirts that she usually wore. Oliver glanced briefly at her pale skin, and found herself thinking that the loneliness of her neck begged for the gift of a necklace.

"Ahhh, wait!" Nila said, stopping in the middle of the stairs, remembering something. She turned to look at Oliver, and studied him up and down. "Hm…"

"What?" Oliver said.

"Is it good enough?" Nila said, pulling her facing, and biting her lip. "You do look handsome… and it is very much you, but I wonder if it's good enough, for the Lord of Solgrim, who is hosting this tournament? Shouldn't you be something even more… you know, outlandish?"

Oliver pulled a face. "I would rather not."

"We should have thought about this yesterday," Nila said. "Everyone in the crowd is going to be looking at you, when you make your welcoming speech. You ought to be able to make some sort of statement… But I have no idea how to do something like that. Perhaps we should ask mother? Or even Greeves? Greeves seems to know how to dress well, when he wants to? Oh! Lady Blackthorn and Verdant should be around somewhere, shouldn't they? We've still got a couple of hours. We should try a little harder."

"If you're going to force me to dress like some sort of peacock, then I'll get Lasha to force you to wear a dress," Oliver threatened.

"No chance," Nila said, sticking her nose up in the air. "I would be a fool to wear a dress in those muddy plains."

"More like, you hate wearing dresses in the first place."

"If you knew that, why did you have to say it!?" Nila said.

"Bit of revenge, I suppose?" Oliver said, noticing Verdant and Blackthorn sitting in wait when he came into the living room. The two of them had a far easier job of it. Their role during the tournament was that of his bodyguards, and so it was their full armour that they wore, with their red Patrick surcoats over the top of it. "Oh, morning, Verdant. Morning, Lasha."

"Good morning, my Lord," Verdant said, bowing deeply to him. "The Gods have blessed us with the finest weather we could hope for today. A sign of our fortune, I am sure."

"Good morning, Lord Patrick," Lasha said, echoing Verdant, though far more quietly.

"You two, don't you suppose that Oliver ought to dress up more for this?" Nila said, launching straight back into her previous argument.

"My Lord is dressed up more than usual," Verdant noted. Oliver was wearing a new coat that he'd seen bought, with streaks of the darkest red woven through black wool. It was long enough that it reached down to his calves, and expensive enough that he wouldn't have dared to buy it, if not for the upcoming event. "But indeed, I think he can stand to go a degree further. You are the man of the occasion, after all, my Lord. This is a chance to make an impression, on so many that have no yet met you in person. You need not to be the self that you think you are, but a character that they think you to be. You are the son of the famed Dominus Patrick, walking along in his footsteps, after slaying a General yourself. You ought to dress in a costume more suited to the character that they suppose you to be."