A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Chapter 482 Comparing Prices - Part 2

Of course, Oliver hadn't bought any of those yet. He was feeling the cold, though less so than the rest. The padded jacket that he wore was good enough for his purposes, at least for now. It didn't seem to get quite as cold within the Stormfront centre as it was back in Solgrim, amongst the Black Mountains.

He'd arranged this particular afternoon for the inspection of the Academy's Marketplace, a place that he still had yet to check out personally, despite the many times that his retainer and Blackthorn had told him that he should.

Unfortunately, despite having agreed to show him around, Verdant had been quickly occupied on the afternoon that they'd committed. He'd been searching for a way to make Oliver's planned expedition that weekend a reality – and the faculty had reacted even more harshly than they'd anticipated. He'd been forced into a meeting, and despite Oliver's questions, the man hadn't told him who it was with.

Instead, he'd say. "Do not worry, my Lord. I will see this completed, as I told you I would. Enjoy your afternoon."

He'd delivered that line behind a false smile, like a soldier going off to war, trying to convince his family that he'd be fine.

What Oliver had not anticipated was that Verdant had already found a replacement for him. The priest was competent in ways that were almost unfair. Not only did he have the power and position that came with being the heir to the Idris house, but he was also impossibly diligent.

Read exclusive adventures at empire

Intelligent in some ways, but oblivious in others. Sort of like Oliver himself. Though, he supposed it was likely his own fault. How could he expect others to understand how he felt if he didn't voice such feelings out loud?

"Hm," Blackthorn said, frozen and unsure, yet she was the one meant to be guiding him.

Yes, the replacement that Verdant had organized was none other than Blackthorn herself, and that had stalled the whole process by an enormous amount. He needed someone that would show him around, and explain things to him… could there have been anyone worse than Blackthorn for that ask?

He'd known it would be terribly awkward the moment that Verdant had told him about it, but given that the priest clearly had a weightier problem that he needed to tackle, Oliver had said nothing but his thanks, telling himself that he would take the opportunity for what it was worse, and that surely it wouldn't be so bad.

"I can't believe you don't know where the stuff in the Market is," Amelia said. "I mean, it's so obvious…"

The little angry blonde pixie of a girl that Blackthorn called a retainer didn't do much to make matters better. Ever since coming back from the Grand Forest, she had seemed to decide that she needed to make up for her temporary meekness by being doubly as hostile.

Oliver sighed. Going on his own would have likely been better. After all, Amelia wasn't wrong. It wasn't exactly a complicated place to navigate. It was like a tiny town centre, with several streets of open stalls protected by canvas on several roads, and then some more permanent and larger stalls mixed in with them.

This was the only place on the campus where the impermanent stalls were allowed to pitch their tents, and do business, but the permanent stalls – providing they had planning permission – could be built nearly anywhere, as long as they were done so out of wood, so that they could be easily torn down once their owner's graduated.

Operating the stalls were yellow-shirted students. That was about what Oliver had expected. It was hard to imagine a noble personally attending the stall. But he'd thought – from his time amongst the soldiers, after seeing the way that they interacted with villagers – that the Serving Class students would have a similar sort of shame.

But here they were, running stalls with all kinds of goods – from fruit sticks, to steaming pies, to hot drinks, to clothes of all sorts – without a hint of shame. In truth, it was more the food that Oliver was surprised about. He just hadn't expected it to be so common.

He'd thought that the stalls would be more related to the different courses that the students took – though there was indeed a culinary course – but it seemed even here, profit was the primary incentive, and these food stalls had no shortage of visitors.

"Here you are, my Lady," Pauline returned, carrying three fruit sticks, topped with apples, and strawberries, and grapes – a fruit that he only recognized by description. He'd never seen it in person before.

Oliver hadn't even noticed that Pauline had disappeared until the moment that she returned. Blackthorn accepted the fruit stick eagerly, and then daintily began to nibble on the end of it, as happy as a rabbit given a carrot.

They'd been walking together since the Red Castle –the market was situated between the Green and Yellow Castles - but he hadn't heard Blackthorn express for even a moment that she'd wanted a fruit stick. In fact, she'd barely said anything at all.

"You do a good job reading her mind…" Oliver noted, as the girl also handed off a fruit stick to Amelia who accepted it with a grateful thanks. Pauline blushed at the compliment.

"We've been together for a few years now… It's only natural, isn't it? Also… for you," she said, offering him the third fruit stick.

"For me? What about you?" Oliver asked.

The girl shook her head, going even redder. "I've already eaten, and uhm… It's not my favourite," she said.

"Hm… Well, thanks, then," Oliver said, taking it off her. He took a bite – delicious. He wondered how they managed to keep the fruit so fresh despite it now being well into winter. That seemed to be a mystery worth solving, should he ever decide to open a food stall himself.

As they walked further down the cobblestone path, he noted a fruit stick stall, where he assumed that Pauline had likely gotten them from. He glanced at the sign, checking the prices. 3 coppers for a fruit stick…