A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Somehow he could tell that sentence was written a little bit gleefully. A woman like Asabel no doubt thought she was being a little bit rebellious in exchanging letters as they were. For a Queen ought not be exchanging any sort of direct contact with a minor noble like a Patrick.

'Matters here seem to be busy… You were right in supposing that they would be. We're set to acquire a sudden amount of territory, but just how much will depend on the negotiations with the other Silver Kings, and the High King, and whether they wish to seize anything for themselves.

There's still one more city left for General Blackwell to occupy, so I suppose those matters will proceed more swiftly when he returns, and the High King holds the Royal Awards Ceremony. Perhaps another month or two? I wonder if I shall see you there..? Well, of course I shall. Your achievement rivals that of a General's. They could not exclude you.'

Though Asabel said as much, Oliver could not imagine that he would wish to entertain any sort of awards ceremony with the High King. The very idea of it made him clench his fist around the leg of his writing desk, and squeeze tightly enough to hear it creak.

His want for revenge on the High King, at this point, was overwhelming. His men seemed to know that, so they avoided mentioning it to him. Verdant knew as much, as he kept quiet about it. Oliver, for his part, tried not to think of it, for he knew once he did, he would not be able to think of anything else. The time of playing defender, he felt, was nearing its end.

If he was to think of the man, he would be thinking of returning an attack of his own… But he knew that to be reckless, even for him. They didn't have the leverage for any sort of attempt, and being weak as they were, in their current position, he would be endangering everyone that he cared for instead.

Part of him believed that the High King's attacks held that purpose of provocation. Even without going according to their plan, perhaps the man believed it would anger Oliver enough to see him counterattack poorly. Even if the High King himself was not wise enough to come up with such plans, the strategists he had behind him likely would be.

'How fairs Nila? Are the two of you enjoying a coupled life? I had heard that, when in a relationship of that sort, one starts to see the world differently, because you have another's perspective so close to your own that it starts to overlap with you.'

Oliver inclined his head at that, trying to imagine it. He had no idea if that was true, but he had to say he wasn't feeling anything of the sort yet. They had more fundamental problems that they needed to solve before that happened. There was far more distance between them now than there had been when they were simply friends.

'What do you plan to do for the next months? I imagine you will be training with your sword further? The continent will tremble to hear it. As strong as you are, as young as you are, I fear if you get any stronger, you'll explode somehow… I wonder how silly that sounds? But you've left the Academy now, and there's no campaign to occupy you. I wonder how you'll spend your time?'

Oliver doubted that she'd have guessed he was planning to wage a different sort of war, if he could, through governance. He was letting Greeves pull him by the hand in that direction.

He could appreciate the battle of wits that went on, even if he had to agree with the merchant when he said that, in truth, Oliver was simply seeing the battlefield in it, even though he ought to have been trying to distance himself from that very battlefield.

He considered how he might write his reply. Asabel had only written a few paragraphs on what she herself was getting up to. In truth, he would have liked to hear more of that. He wondered what her daily affairs involved, and what the life of a Queen was like. He fiddled with his quill, trying to decide how he might prod that information out of her. She was far too concerned with being gracious to him.

Surely there was more that she wanted to say, and more that she wanted to complain about?

"It would be interesting to hear her complain a bit," Oliver thought with a rueful grin. He decided to write something sly, and he settled on.

'How goes the perfect life of a Pendragon Queen?'

He thought for sure she knew he'd be jesting. It was obvious enough even when written in ink. Besides, there was enough that he could put around it to get the point across, so she wouldn't really think he was envious.

"The last position I would want to be in is yours, Asabel," Oliver said aloud to himself as he wrote, meaning every word. It was a thankless crown that she had picked up along with all the responsibility, when she would have much rather have been following another path. But he was secretly glad, that of all the people, it was she that did it.

Even if she was only a small fraction of the Silver Kings, he was pleased that at least one of them had her character.

He tried to put a degree of effort into the letter, more than he normally would have. The girl had made it clear how much receiving those letters would mean to her. He'd been able to bid her farewell, seeing the small measure of excitement that it brought her when she'd spoke of them.

It hadn't washed away the sadness entirely, that excitement, but it seemed to have brought back a degree of her usual ferocity. There was a resoluteness in her eyes to go along with it, like a warrior determined that they would give their best fight, even if they knew inevitably death was all that could possibly be waiting for them.