A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"…The surrender hurried that along," Blackthorn said. "If they'd had to lay siege to each city, years would have been on the low end. Damn it all. What trick did that Blackwell manage to pull to force them into such an unfavourable surrender?"

"It's truly won, then?" Asabel said, her delight evident. "Is there any more news than that?"

"None," Blackthorn said. "This message comes from Idris. It seems he expects that this news to be even further out of date, given that he received a late crow himself… We're likely two weeks behind, my Queen. All the more reason for us to return home. There will be many matters for us to attend to – and it'll take us another week to return."

"…A few more days, Blackthorn, that is all," Asabel said. "Three days should be sufficient. Do we have any supposing of when Oliver Patrick might be returning home?"

She'd acknowledged Nila out of the corner of her eye before asking that question. It was as if she'd read the words off her face. There, Nila's blush ordinarily might have deepened had she not been so stunned by the news herself. 'So soon?' She wanted to cry out her joy. 'Is there enough time to have the repairs done before his return..? I can't have him return home worried.'

"I would expect, from this message, another month or two. They still have to occupy the annex cities and see them claimed," Blackthorn said. "And those cities are likely to fall into our care, unless the other Silver Kings see fitting opportunity. Your lands are likely to grow, my Queen, and your responsibility. There will be much to do. Your border will grow all the more important.

Three days I can agree to, but no longer. Time is of the essence. Everyone else will have begun to move."

"Lord Idris will not see us fall behind," Asabel assured him. "But you are right. I can not avoid my duties any longer than that. I am only glad that you have been liniant with me. It has been a privilege to get to see the home lands of Oliver Patrick myself. I thank you very much for your graciousness as a host, Nila Felder."

Nila dipped her head. "...You saved us from destruction, my Queen, I would not ever have thought of turning you away."

"The timing could not have been called fortuitous, however," Asabel said sadly. "You have suffered greatly, Nila Felder. It pleases me that there is good news that might serve to at least begin to heal your hurts."

Another knock came at the door before Nila could think to answer.

This time Greeves didn't make the mistake of giving the approval himself. General Blackthorn glanced to Queen Asabel, who gave him the smallest of nods, after noticeably stiffening.

Nila found herself instinctively stiffening to a degree as well. The last knock had brought them a message of importance, one that they had not begun to properly process yet. For another to arrive so soon after… Was it something urgent? Had what Queen Asabel feared might come to pass already come?

Another Blackthorn soldier came for them. He bowed to his General, and to his Queen. "There are soldiers at the gate, my Queen," he said, addressing his report to Queen Asabel.

Blackthorn's eyes narrowed before his sentence even saw its finish. His aura inflated, tearing its way out of him with enough force to see the entirety of the room cowering. He'd already taken half a step, and his hand was instinctively reaching for his sword. It was not displeasure that Nila saw written on his face, but glee. There stood a man that didn't have sufficient opportunities to fight.

The messenger's next words froze the General in place.

"They claim to be Patrick men. Lady Blackthorn appears to be amongst them," the soldier said.

"So soon?" Asabel said, for the second time. "Didn't you say that even if their campaign was won, it would be another month or two before the soldiers began to return home, General?"

"I did," he agreed. "Did you verify the identify of these soldiers yourselves? Have you confirmed the woman among them to be my daughter?"

"I did not, General… But the Sergeant seemed to be quite convinced, and they were sure—"

Whatever he had been about to say next, he didn't have a chance to finish. From the door that he had left opened, and through the pair of Blackthorn spear-wielding men that he had left behind to guard it, there thundered in a man of sharp intensity.

He pushed the guarding soldiers aside as if their strength was no more of a resistance to him than what infants might have offered him, and immediately after him, there came a pair of faces that Nila well recognized.

All three of them wore distinctive masks of concern. Oliver directed his gaze around the room, looking to man after man with eyes as dangerous as a sword, flecked with that golden aggressiveness that they took on whenever his emotions found themselves stirred.

She could see him processing the scene before him, bit by bit. He gave Greeves the briefest of glances, and seemed to know his state just from it. He did the same for Judas, for General Blackthorn, and even Queen Asabel – but when his gaze landed on Nila, it stayed there, as if there was no one else in the world.

She saw the relief, but she hardly saw the subsidence of his intensity. The sigil of the beast that he'd had stitched into his surcoat seemed almost as alive as he was.

Nila wondered if anyone had ever noticed it. Or whether Oliver himself had put those pieces together. Perhaps they had, and perhaps they'd simply not said anything to spare her the embarrassment.

There stood there a beast, one that seemed to have only grown in its magnitude. He said not a word, but his presence alone cast that room into silence.

Against the mountain of General Blackthorn, he hardly looked smaller. That was when Nila realized that he'd grown again. She dared not believe had already ascended as far as the Fourth Boundary, but whatever else could have given him such an edge?