A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 905: The Castle Town of Valance - Part 3

"There's no standard procedure for that, those fools," Ingolsol said, thoroughly amused.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

"Don't be drawn in by him, Oliver," Claudia cautioned. "There are times and uses for ceremony."

It wasn't as though Oliver had particularly intended to further the scene that Blackthorn had already caused, but he heeded Claudia's warning nonetheless, and made a conscious effort not to do anything of the Blackthorn level of strange.

The end result was a stiffer gait than he was used to, with his hands threaded behind his back. It was both thoroughly uncomfortable to do, and thoroughly uncomfortable to look at. It was very much the gait of a soldier on duty, and with the suddenness that he'd adopted it, it was almost as if he was mocking the Asabalian soldiers.

It was made all the worse when Lasha decided that it would be a good idea to copy him. She stuck her delicate chin up, threaded her hands behind her back, and then walked with the same stiffness as Oliver, with her sheathed rapier rapping against their thigh.

"Are they doing this on purpose?" Amelia hissed to Pauline as she struggled to contain a snort of laughter.

"I think they've both just too strange for places like this…" Pauline said meekly back. She glanced at Kaya – he at least seemed to be walking normally. Under Jorah's influence, both Karesh and Kaya were being kept in check.

Of course, that was the exact moment that Kaya decided to steal a glance at her, as though he could sense her gaze. Their eyes met, and they both hurriedly turned away, blushing.

"We have arrived," a Sergeant's voice cut like a knife through the arbitrary battles that the young charges unused to such formal occasions had been going through.

The twisting corridor that they'd followed had led them to another set of high double doors. It had the same imposing aura as the entryway to the Minister's Hall of Judgement in the Academy, and Oliver unconsciously found himself expecting the same five thrones beyond it that he'd come to expect from the Academy.

There was a part of him that guessed that it wasn't mere instinct, but logic that was telling him what to expect. After all, the Academy had been modelled after the state of the Stormfront royal houses. It would not have been strange to expect that there would be similarities.

The Sergeant proceeded to push open the pair of heavy doors, after exchanging brief words with the guardsmen on duty there. The soldiers stepped out of the way to make his task easier, and then once he opened them up by the initial crack, they threw their shoulders against the wood on either side, lending him their assistance.

To Oliver's surprise, he was met with a space far smaller than the Academy's Hall. Given what he had expected, it seemed more intimidating for that fact. He could already see a gleaming throne of silver, and if he stood up on the tips of his toes, he thought that he might have been able to see past the soldiers' heads, and towards the young woman that sat atop it.

He glanced at Blackthorn. She didn't meet the look. She was frozen in place, practically awe-struck. Oliver recalled that Blackthorn had never managed to get close enough with Princess Asabel that they could call themselves friends. She'd been too reverent of royalty for that to occur. Now, they were to meet again with their proper social ranks, without the equalizing title of student to link them.

It was no surprise that she ought to have been nervous.

Somehow, seeing Blackthorn nervous helped Oliver squash the last of his. He smiled a small smile instead. It very much was like the battlefield. If he saw that his men had the slight twinkling of fear that came before a charge, then he knew he was in the right place, and that things were proceeding as they should be.

Any time that they might have had to drink in the situation was cut short. The soldiers lurched forward, and gestured for Lombard to follow. The Captain did so with his usual stern fluidness. Tolsey had to hop a step to catch up with him, and Oliver had to jab Lasha in the shoulder to wake her up enough to keep pace with him again.

They were thrust into the chamber before they were ready for it, and what a cramped chamber that began to feel like indeed, with so many soldiers, and so many powerful men cramped in.

There was but a single throne – on which sat Queen Asabel. If any had claimed that she lacked the regal air of royalty, none could claim such a thing now. Oliver found that he could not even look directly at her, in the same way that Blackthorn could not. He found himself looking around her, as though she was a powerful opponent, and he sought not to be hypnotized by her sword.

There was a single throne, but there still stood powerful men to either side of it, just like how the lesser Ministers of the Academy had sat beside General Tavar. Oliver recognized Lord Idris and Lord Blackthorn immediately, but there was another man, and a woman next to him, whom Oliver did not recognize.

It was not only beside the throne where men of standing stood, but on the many stairs leading up to it as well. Oliver recognized Lancelot on the first stair, just before the foot of his Queen. Another man – most certainly a nobleman from the way he carried himself – stood opposite him.

And then every stair down from them had another pairing, of grand men – and the occasional woman – stood facing off against each other, cutting intimidating looks from the way their eyes gleamed.

A Queen's Court. Oliver had heard the term tossed around, but only now that he saw it in front of him did he know exactly what it was. They were like extensions of the Queen herself. They could very well have been pieces of her long golden hair from the way they flowed down beneath her, and yet seemed so connected to the small silver crown that sat on her head.