A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"Uhm… Oh, yes, I did, Your Highness. It was... delicious. Thank you very much," Jorah said, managing to keep his voice level despite his obvious nervousness.

"I'm glad," Asabel said – and she really did seem to be so. "Oh, Oliver, don't forget your blackberry tea. We're allies in this tea game now, after all. I won't forgive you if you don't enjoy it to its fullest."

Asabel saw them off at the door, as she promised to. Oliver left, with the wooden canister full of tea in hand. He couldn't imagine how long such a thing would last him, but he assumed it would be a long time indeed.

None seemed more glad about their departure than Lancelot and Jorah. The two of them seemed to sigh together as the door closed, and Asabel told them to get home safely.

"She's a charming young woman, is she not?" Verdant said, as they descended the stairs. "It has always been difficult to remember that she is royalty. One can't help but attempt to treat her like a friend."

"She seems… interesting," Oliver said carefully. "If the Pendragons are like her, I can see why Father got on with Arthur."

"Hm? Oh, not at all. The right conclusion, in this case, but unfortunately her magnanimity does not extend to the entire Pendragon household. In truth, she's more like her uncle than she is her father, and that's the cause of considerable strain. Arthur's ideals were… heroic, indeed, but they caused frictions in the same way that Dominus' did," Verdant explained.

"I'm impressed with her, to tell you the truth."

"You are?" Oliver asked.

"Why, of course. There are few that can stick to their ideals, all the way to adulthood. Ideals are easiest to cling to as a child. But I suppose that she saw a good role model through Arthur, just as you did through Dominus. She's not a zealot in the way she comports herself, but she lets her ideals guide her nonetheless. A rare and courageous trait, given her position," Verdant said.

"A quality young woman, my Lord, I do say."

Oliver inclined his head in agreement. "She certainly seems rather human for a royal."

"Oh, but we're all human in the end," Verdant said gently. "Once our strength is stripped bare, and our titles, and our coin. We're merely human in the end."

There was a strange sense of foresight to his words. Later, Verdant would claim he did not know what they were approaching. He would insist that he caught no inclination of what was about to happen, of the malevolence that hung in the air, but Oliver never quite believed him. It was too odd a choice of words, too much of a coincidence – and those priest's eyes, they saw much.

They climbed down the last set of stairs of the Yellow Castle, and returned once again to the noble's quarters on the bottom floor, beneath the Lord's quarters from which they'd just descended.

The hallways were quiet at this time of night. Not silent – dinner had only ended an hour earlier – but they were quiet. Friends talked in hushed voices in their rooms, sharing the news of the day. Others stole out through the Yellow Castle's main entrance, as they passed into the Academy's grounds, and headed off elsewhere.

Somehow, despite that small bustling of activity, when they hit in the corridor, it seemed to grow more silent, more still, with each passing step that they took. Oliver reacted to Verdant's tension in that animalistic way he often had to him. His perspective was poor, indeed, for he could not see – but his feelings and intuition were honed almost as keenly as the priests himself.

They could not see around the corner at the corridor's edge, but they could sense it. Even Jorah grew nervous, his hand running towards the hilt of his sword. He would have much preferred a spear – as a yellow-shirted student, his spear training was prioritized far above his training with the blade. Stay connected with empire

"Verdant," Oliver said, in a hushed whisper, just before they rounded the corner's edge.

In a stiff voice, Verdant gave his response. "Indeed… It might be wise to flee—" But when they looked back over their shoulders, they found that the way was already sealed.

There, upon the Academy grounds, behind those walls raised high for the utmost safety. A space meant to nurture the most valuable youth that the nation had to offer. A space that had somehow been cleanly violated of its protective qualities.

Oliver saw ten men coming from the end of the corridor, barring the way. As they drew to a halt, their earlier suspicion was confirmed, and ten more men came from where they dared not approach. Men of purpose, men armed with their preferred weaponry. Even without a word their intent was more than clear, their aggression hung in the air as sharp as broken glass.

The safety of the Academy had been violated.

The men were rather brazen in their dress. They didn't sulk around in robes. Of course, such robes would have attracted more attention in the confines of the Academy's corridor. These men were instead dressed as guardsmen. Normally, such a group would be easily ignored – but no group of guards so large would ever find its way to the student's quarters, not unless something dastardly had happened.

Two of the men stood out from the rest of the guards, and their spears. The uniforms of these men hardly fit. Clearly, they were borrowed, or taken. One to the front, and one to the behind. It was not only their wide-open jackets and poorly tucked shirts that set them apart. It was their auras of hardness – the strength that leaked off them.

Strength that until recently had been in the same realm as Oliver's own. The strength of the Second Boundary.

"My Lord," Verdant said, his voice calm and steady, despite the situation. "It would appear two of them are Blessed."

Without needing to exchange any further words, they knew what the situation they'd been placed into was. They needed to play no games, and ask no questions. 'Why us?' 'Do you mean to use those weapons to do harm to a student?' No. The Patrick's were meant to be targeted, Verdant knew. The Minister of Blades expected the same.

They knew that news of Oliver's early ascension to the Third Boundary would not be met with cheers for everyone.