A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1442 - 1442: Furthering Competition - Part 2

"Good day," she told them both rather pleasantly, though her gaze was fixed in its entirety on Nila. The red-haired girl froze up, and looked to Oliver uncertainly.

With a wry smile, Oliver introduced them. "Nila, this is Professor Yoreholder. She's been asking after you for a while."

"G-good day, Professor," Nila said, meekly bowing her head.

"And you've talked your fair share about her as well, Ser Patrick," Yoreholder said. "Hence my interest. You will be competing alongside me, will you not, Lady Patrick?"

"Ahh, uhm… Actually, my Lady, I'm still a Felder…" Nila said, correcting her with a strained expression, walking right into Yoreholder's trap.

The Professor managed to pull off a look of surprise well, as if she truly hadn't known, but Oliver could see through her teasing by now. "Really? I had thought with how close the two of you were, you had certainly already… Well, that's no place for me to pry, I do suppose. I'm sure you're well aware of the reputation Ser Patrick here carved out for himself at the Academy, Lady Felder?"

"I am, somewhat, my Lady…" Nila said carefully, wary of another trap being sprung on her.

"He wasn't bad with a bow either," Yoreholder said. "Enough at least to pass my classes. I'd say he was one of my better students. But he lacked the enthusiasm for it. He declared that no matter how much he practised, he would never get as good as you. I always thought that to be a shame. In a way, I suppose I could say that it was you who stole his enthusiasm in advance."

"Really?" Nila said.

"Well…" Oliver scratched his head. "I wanted to understand the bow more, but I knew that I would never be a master of it. It was worthwhile knowledge regardless."

"And I would see just what sort of skill you possess, to make even this disagreeable pup bend his knee in acknowledgement," Yoreholder said. "I do assume correctly that you will be competing with me, yes? Ser Patrick had said as much earlier."

Bit by bit, the Professor sealed off whatever escape routes Nila might have had left to her. All her nerves, and all her doubts, were surrounded by a ring wall now of reputation. She was forced to straighten herself up, and give the answer to the affirmative, with as much confidence as she possibly could. "I shall be, my Lady."

"Then let us go together," Yoreholder said, putting a hand on Nila's shoulder. She was so much taller than the girl, that it looked almost a silly sight.

"Good luck," Oliver told Nila, as Yoreholder guided her away. Nila nodded, her eyes wide and wary, wisely staying on her guard against the woman next to her.

Oliver could see Yoreholder continuing to chat to Nila as they went, and he didn't suppose she would have ceased her teasing. She seemed to enjoy the sport of it. But for better or worse, Nila was trapped in her situation now.

'But I'm sure she'll be fine,' he thought to himself with iron certainty. Nila's skills with the bow went beyond talent. It wasn't the sort of thing that nervousness could completely eradicate. It was as natural to her as the beating of her heat and the breathing of her lungs.

He went to find more of his own comrades to watch the opening archery round with, and he settled on a good spot, near the ropes on the edge of the arena, where he could be afforded a good look of the participants and the targets that they were set to face.

The opening round was simple enough. They'd all be given seven arrows, and they'd fire at a target a hundred metres away. Depending on which circle of the target they hit – or if they hit the target at all – they'd be awarded a certain number of points. There had been all sorts of suggestions for things they could try to make the rounds more interesting, but for the opening round, with the number of participants, it was decided that it was better to just keep it simple.

There were only ten targets on the field, but there were to be fifty participants in that first round, with the top ten making their way through. It meant that they'd have to continually cycle between turns on the target. They'd be allowed to take as many shots as they wished, before they went to the back of the queue and awaited their next turn. It allowed for an extra small amount of strategy, useful for those that were especially nervous.

Nila and Yoreholder had managed to find their way to the front of these queues, and they stood next to each other, waiting for the starting bell. Oliver could still see the nervousness in the girl, and he knew he would have been smacked if he'd called it endearing. There were certain things that Nila did, at times – even just the simple way she moved – that made him feel an extraordinary sense of peace. He had to smile, just at the mere sight of her. He was sure she'd be fine. The peace was almost enough to make him forget his own nervousness in regards to the battle tournament.

"You almost look excited, my Lord," Verdant commented.

"You know what Nila is," Oliver told him. "How could I not be? For all the skill she has, she's been practically hidden in invisibility. I'm excited to see just how far it can take her."

That opportunity was given with a swiftness, as that starting bell was rung, and the arrows began to fly. Professor Yoreholder notched an arrow in her bow with practised ease, drawing it in the same fluid motion, and securing a hit on the target's bullseye, all that distance away, without pausing to check if her aim was true.

She reached for the next arrow from her quiver, and as she did so, she gave a quick look to her left, to see how Nila was getting on. Nila still hadn't put a bow on her arrow string. Her hands were trembling, obvious even from a distance, and her lips were twisted in an irritated frown, as if she was annoyed at her own body for its condition.