A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Chapter 411 The Aura of Greatness - Part 4

His booted legs tangled behind themselves, and his back was bent fully backwards, with his half-empty plate in one hand, on a sure track to spilling itself.

"Careful," Oliver said quietly, catching him with a single arm at his back, whilst reminding him of his tipping plate with a nod of his head.

Now that he'd found himself steadying the youth, Oliver was once again reminded just how big he was. And not just big, the boy had thickness to him as well, with broad shoulders, and enough weight to make use of his frame. There was even the beginnings of stubble on his chin. A heavy boy.

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The boy's first instinct was not anger, but alarm, for he knew that it was the table of nobility behind his. If he was going to be clashing with anyone, it would be them. Then he righted himself enough that he could see Oliver's blue jacket, marking him as a noble, and then his eyes darted to Blackwell's pin at his chest, marking him as one to be treated with a Lordling's level of respect.

Oliver might have sworn he could see the man's soul leave his body. He almost laughed – almost. For here he was, a mere peasant, dressed in the attire of a noble, and the boy had worked himself up so frantically at the mere prospect of accidentally barging into him.

"S-s-ser..." the boy stammered. He was at least two years Oliver's elder, Oliver was sure of it, and he towered over him with that age – it seemed like everyone was towering over Oliver lately – and so to see him showing such an urgent level of respect, despite Oliver having done nothing to earn it off him, it was a remarkable thing indeed.

"It's fine," Oliver said with a wave of dismissal. He moved to walk away. But apparently, that was the wrong thing to do. The boy seemed to confuse him for a vindictive noble, for he called out to him.

"S-ser! Please wait! I'm really sorry... I'll make it up to you, just please don't—" the boy began, well and truly petrified.

The two recoiled at that, displaying far more emotion at that comment than they should have in the presence of nobility, causing Jorah to grimace yet again.

"Second-Cousins," Kaya said firmly. "Not even full cousins."

"Ser," Jorah corrected.

"Not even full cousins, ser," Kaya said with a meek blush at his mistake.

"Karesh, you can calm yourself. I expect if you stay any longer, you really will be irritating him. I saw what happened. If anything, you should be thanking Ser Patrick for catching you before you fell over and made a fool of yourself. Don't bother him with your apologies when he's already made it clear that they aren't needed," Jorah said stiffly.

"Oh... Er... That's right. Thank you," Karesh said, with an awkward dip of his head. He still seemed nervous enough to shiver.

"Karesh, is it?" Oliver noted, adding the name to his memory. He had not forgotten that lesson that Dominus had taught him all that time ago – of the importance of making connections. Now, with Volguard's warning, that lesson of Dominus' seemed even more pertinent. With the rest of the nobility against him, he wondered just what the serving folk were like. "You're a big fellow.

You'd make a good shieldbreaker, if you were planning on joining the army."

And that wasn't untrue. He was certainly big. Not quite as big as Judas, but then, he likely hadn't finished growing yet.

That comment, when all others had failed, seemed to finally breathe the ice with Karesh. He drew himself up proudly at being praised about his height. Despite being older than Kaya, it seemed they both shared the same likeable simplicity. But then he seemed to realize something. "...Shieldbreaker? The Garsh don't use shields, do they, ser?"