A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

There was a stone in her path, and it was with a great effort that Nila refrained from kicking it. She forced herself to walk upright and straight, like a noble Lady ought to. Even that action made her sigh to herself. That was another thing done to bring her closer to Oliver. Did it have any meaning in bringing her closer, when she could not even speak to him properly any longer?

"I wonder if that fool even knows how much I worried while he was away?" Nila thought. She'd seen that white stag in the woods, and she had thought that was it for Oliver. She'd been so certain that it was a sign of the Gods. It had taken all that she had to hold herself together, and to convince herself that such interpretations were irrational.

She was glad that she had, for once more, Oliver had come back to her. But whether that was because the sign wasn't true, or whether it was because Oliver had defeated the twist of fate that had led to the warning itself, she couldn't quite know.

Somehow, he was doing battles with Generals. She'd heard precious little of his exploits on campaign. He seemed too reserved to speak properly on them. But she'd known that he'd encountered danger. The fullest extent of that danger, as far as she had heard at the moment, had been in his battle with Zilan. He'd almost lost his life then, just as Lombard lost his…

She felt a wave of sadness pass over her, as she recalled the look in Oliver's eyes. He would never speak of his victory over Zilan without mentioning the deaths of Lombard and Tolsey. The grief was evident in him then. It ought to have been her job to comfort him.

Normally, she would have had words, even if they were not the right ones, at least she would have had something to say – but her heart froze over in immobilization, and she could do nothing but watch as he struggled.

She nodded back to the builders when they nodded to her. Greeves had called them in from Ernest after the conditions had been set by the Guild. They were set to work immediately on raising the height of the walls, and seeing the gates properly mended. Once more, it was Oliver's weighty coin that saw to all of that.

For all the work that she'd put in building her own businesses, the gold that she produced was incomparable to the General's pay that Oliver had earned for himself.

'But he seems so dissatisfied…' She thought. He'd never once spoken in celebration of it. Anyone would think, with the way he carried himself, that he'd been the defeated man. And his retainers walked carefully around him, as if they understood his troubles.

Lady Blackthorn had begun to establish her own distance, out of respect for Nila – a misplaced respect, Nila thought, she would have much preferred it if Lasha had remained as normal – but even her worry was evident.

'And what am I doing but making him worry all the more?' Nila said. 'I'm… not at all what I want to be. I wish I could go back to who I was…'

Before she knew it, her feet had carried her all the way home. The same path she had traced so many times before. Back then, her worries had been different. She'd fought against the womanly future that had been set out for her. She didn't want to work a loom for pay. She wanted to hunt.

She didn't want to dress in dresses, and think of nothing but marriage and taking care of her children… 'And now look where I am… I would give half the fingers on my left hand just to act like a normal woman in this. Beam is stupid, but I'm even more stupid. We're ridiculous.'

"Nila," a soft voice warned her hand away from the door handle before she had the chance to check to see if anyone was in. She turned to see her mother, carrying a basket, full to the brim with recently dried clothes. She had a gentle smile for her, as she always did. She seemed to be able to see through to the heart of everything that Nila was feeling.

Nila felt her eyes mist over. It was too kind a look at the wrong time. It pierced her like a spear. She had to turn away to hide it.

"Come," her mother told her. "Your little brother and Stephanie are out playing. I've made some food and some tea as well. Let's have a chat. It's been so long since we've talked properly, hasn't it?"

Now Nila had her own house closer to the marketplace. She spent half the nights of the week there, and then crawled home when she otherwise felt too lonely. She found that she was much happier where it was cozy, even if it was cramped, but it didn't quite align with the appearance of the woman that she sought to be.

She was unable to resist. Her mother was ever a calm woman, never directly assertive – but she was like water. Things always seem to end up going her way. She wrapped people around her little finger without them even knowing it. It was only now that she was a little older that she could see the hidden strength in the docile way her mother carried herself.

The tea was already boiled in a pot over the fire, with just enough water for the two of them. It was as if her mother had predicted that she would be coming. Nila didn't ask if she really had, because she didn't want to know.

A small cup of warmth was in her hands before she knew it, and now her lips were pouting a frown, just as she'd wanted to do walking through the village, but had been unable to, for all the people watching.

"My sweet little girl," her mother cooed at her. She'd been watching her, even without Nila knowing. Nila turned away, frowning her irritation with her eyebrows.

"I'm not a little girl anymore," Nila said.

"Aren't you?" Her mother grinned. "So what has you looking so down, sweetling?"