A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Chapter 541 The Tea Party - Part 11

"Deal," Oliver said immediately, only sensing a trap after he'd agreed. "...But questions within reason. I can't declare that I will answer everything."

"Then I'll give you one chance to refuse a question, but I must be allowed to ask another question, in a different area. And also, let me redeclare that you've made things more difficult for yourself in looking for this deal. It means I'm going to have to watch over you, because you forbid your retainers from doing so," Asabel said.

"That's definitely not what I—"

"Enough. It's done," she said, using her authority as princess when it was convenient. "Now, will you answer my questions?"

He sighed, and leaned his back against the railing. It wasn't the outcome that he had expected, but given his lack of options, it would have to do. "Go on then."

"The scars on your back, where did you get them?" She asked.

"A whip," he said, though two whips came to mind. The Academy's whip allowed him to give that answer freely, but that was nothing compared to the torment of an impatient slaver. "In battle with the Yarmdon... In battle with Hobgoblins. A certain spear."

He answered like a soldier giving a report, impassively, and quickly. He didn't notice the sad look in Asabel's eyes, as he prodded her along. "Next question then, assuming that satisfies you."

"It doesn't satisfy me," she said, "but by the rules of my own agreement, it would have to do. Next question... who was your mother?"

"You would not know her," Oliver said honestly, "even if I did tell you."

"Ask away," Oliver said, clearing his throat, and forcing sentimentality to the back of his mind. He was still on the battlefield, after all. Not a warrior's battlefield, but a battlefield nonetheless.

"Let me see... Ah, I probably shouldn't ask that, because of the taboo but..." she glanced towards the door, checking to make sure that Lancelot wasn't listening in. "No... I think I'll save that question anyway. I think it answers itself. Who do you think poisoned you?"

"...The Gods," Oliver replied. That answer came more easily. Halfway between truth, and halfway between a lie.

Her thoughtful face blossomed into a smile at his answer. "Ah, so, so troublesome. If times had been different, perhaps I would have been there to teach you some proper manners, in the place of your father. As an older cousin."

"We aren't blood-related, are we?" Oliver said with a frown.

"No, but how could you get any closer than my uncle and your father? That's more true than true cousins, is it not?" She said.

"I think you're skipping out over a step... Even if we call Dominus and Arthur brothers, it doesn't change the fact that you're not Arthur's daughter. You're his niece," Oliver pointed out.

"No fun at all," Asabel said. "I'm sure you'll scare away all your potential lovers with such cold logic. I suppose that's where a cousin's advice can take care of you, no? As your elder, I think it would be wise for you to listen to me. I've been around oh so long, after all."

"Ah, so that's where those wrinkles came from," Oliver said, pointing at her forehead. The girl looked aghast.

"A wrinkle? Do I really?" She reached up towards her forehead, feeling with her fingers for lines. "Wait... Was that a joke?"

"It was," Oliver said stoically.