A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"Nothing," Nila said. "Just… I suppose, the rebuilding is going on longer than I thought… and I could have done more—"

"It's Oliver, isn't it?" Her mother said, cutting through to the heart of the issue quickly enough to make Nila grow flustered.

"Wha--! No! I never said anything about Oliver. Why are you bringing him up? You just have fun trying to embarrass me, don't you?" Nila fumed.

"So, what happened with him?" Her mother pressed, her smile growing all the wider. "Did the two of you fight?"

"No! I told you, nothing has happened. Why don't you ever listen to me?" Nila said.

"Ah…" Her mother nodded thoughtfully. She didn't like that nod. It made it seem again like her mother was seeing straight through her, and she didn't want anyone to see straight through her. "You mean, nothing at all?"

She said it almost slyly, there was a twinkle in her eyes. Nila didn't know quite what she was suggesting, but she didn't like it.

"…Truly nothing?" Her mother said, tilting her head. "Why is that?"

Nila fiddled with her cup, saying nothing, preferring to make a task out of taking a single tip than coming up with a reply that might see her properly defended.

"Mm… My sweet little Nila," her mother said, patting her head. "You like Beam, don't you?"

She wasn't sure why she reddened then, even now that the whole town knew. There was just a different quality to the way her mother asked it, as if she truly knew the feelings that wandered around her heart. It made it all the more embarrassing.

"It's Oliver now, mother…" She said defensively.

"But we know him as Beam, don't we?" Her mother said. "That is your advantage. I am sure that Oliver appreciates that as well. It must be hard for him, to pretend to be something else… But he has done well from it."

"What do you mean, pretend..?" Nila said. Her mother had never met Dominus, had she? She couldn't have known it to be a fabrication in the same way that she and Greeves did. She'd taken the greatest of cares not to expose it.

"Hm..?" Her mother said. Nila sighed. She never made anything explicitly clear.

"It's to your advantage," Nila's mother said again. "You know how dangerous it'll be for the two of you, with Oliver Patrick being a noble, and you being of low birth."

"I know…" Nila said.

"Does it bother you?" Her mother pressed. "Even Serving Class women can be cruel to those beneath them. I don't doubt that nobles will be even crueller."

"I do not mind. But it would have been better for Oliver to pick someone that could further his station… That was why I didn't say anything. But then he had to go and ask me, and I couldn't refuse him all the way, could I?"

She didn't mean for that reply to come off as heated as it did. Her mother patted her gently on the head, ignoring the outburst.

"You have done very well. I am proud of you for it," Mrs Felder said. "You have held yourself back more than I would have. If Ser Patrick had offered me marriage at your age, I would have thrown myself at him."

"Mother!"

Mrs Felder put a hand to her mouth and giggled. "I'm kidding, of course."

Nila knew that. As pretty as her mother was, and as much as it would have eased her burden, she'd never taken another husband after Nila's father had died. She'd chosen to struggle alone instead.

"You really loved father, didn't you?" Nila said.

"My… that's sudden," Mrs Felder said. "Are you trying to make me blush in revenge? You won't manage it. I don't need to be so shy as you. I can say, my little Nila, that I loved him. He made me a different woman, better than I was.

And he gave me three wonderful children. He even made a hunter out of my eldest, as much trouble as she has been."

Nila went quiet, a small smile on her lips, as she remembered the first time her father had taught her to shoot a bow.

"You miss him still, don't you?" Mrs Felder said, her voice no more than a whisper, her eyes soft with understanding.

It was only a nod that Nila could manage as a reply. She knew if she spoke, the tears would begin to fall from her eyes. Even after so many years, the pain of her father's passing was still as raw as if it had happened yesterday.

"You stuck to him like a shadow," Mrs Felder recalled. "You copied him in everything he did. It was the sweetest little sight. Any other man would have grown impatient with you, but he was fiercely proud that you respected him enough."

"He was so stupid… Why would he care what a kid like me thought of him?" Nila said, sniffing.

"He was," Mrs Felder agreed readily. "He was a stupid, wonderful man. He respected you as if you'd lived a thousand lifetimes already, as if you were some dangerous little wolf cub that could have torn out his throat if he made you angry."

"He was always making me angry, though…" Nila recalled.

"He had a way of doing that," Mrs Felder said, resting her head on her hands as she thought of him. "He was as special as they come… I suppose that is why he stood out enough, that the Gods would see fit to take him early. Oliver is much like that."

Nila could not hide the way that she stiffened. Her mother inclined her head with understanding, seeing the way her daughter's body tensed.

"You're frightened, my little fox," she said, cupping her daughter's cheek. "And you have every right to be. Your father, as wonderful as he was, wounded us all the more because he was taken. We will never recover from that.

I'm not trying to hurry you towards pretending to be stronger than you are… Even I, as your mother, cannot say that I've found the strength to properly live life to the fullest without him…"