"Asabel…" Oliver said, meekly, sending a prayer off into the heavens. "I know I didn't want to make it political for my sake… But I might have changed my mind…"
"If you're praying, better to ask the Dark Gods, I'd say," Ingolsol said. "At least we give something in return. You just have to make a worthy sacrifice."
"Ah, because we've seen such hope delivered after those kinds of sacrifices, haven't we? After all, Francis seemed a perfectly happy man, did he not?" Claudia replied with rare sarcasm.
"Wench," Ingolsol said. "You're tolerable when you're your do-gooding self. If you start layering sarcasm on top of that, I might defy all known laws just to tear you to pieces, even if it means the death of all three of us."
"That was a crude blow, I apologise," Claudia said, "though I do stand by the sentiment. Even in jest, one should not say such things. Such bargains would not even benefit you, Ingolsol."
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure…"
Oliver blocked them out of his mind, and tossed the letter on his bed, retrieving his sword. Finally, the blade that he'd snapped against the Boulder Crab had been repaired – the same sword that Lord Blackwell had crafted for him, with its sigil of an owl on its hilt. It was a fine weapon, remarkably fine, even against the likes of Lady Blackthorn's blades.
He admired it for a brief moment, before he slid it into his hilt.
"Right," he murmured. "Time to make some gold."
Given that Oliver had not planned anything that week – there were no trips to Solgrim, or anything of the like – their foray into the Grand Forest was at a far easier pace than it had been the week before, much to the relief of Amelia and Pauline.
"Thank goodness," Amelia had said, quietly enough that she didn't think the others would overhear. Pauline echoed the same sentiment. They'd come prepared for a run, just as Blackthorn had ordered them too – she didn't know whether Oliver would be leaving that week as well, after all – and had ended up far more well equipped than last week.
The two of them seemed determined not to be called useless. They'd brought with them all the tools that they needed for butchering the meat, and they'd brought with them thick elbow-length gloves and long leather aprons to help deal with the grizzliness of the work.
So too had they brought the necessary equipment that they needed for tea, including a large flask of hot water that they were desperately keeping warm under a rather thick blanket.
"Wait, but now you have to pull a heavier sledge for it…" Karesh had pointed out, slightly put off by their new preparedness.
To which Amelia had responded – striking a proud pose, her hands on her hips – that they'd already thought it through. "Behold!" She declared. "The lightest pots and pans you can buy. They're made of some strange metal which is… uhm. Lighter."
"It's less dense, at least," Pauline put in carefully, and then flushed red with embarrassment at her own correction. Kaya looked at her as though awed by the fact.
"Anyway! That means the sledge isn't that much heavier! We should be fine!" Amelia said.
"I do not wish to correct you when you've already made such efforts, but does it not also mean that we will still have to drag you?" Jorah said. "Why don't you bring a mule, or something? Whatever the mount is that these gamekeepers use, would that not be preferable?"
"What!?" Amelia said, her mouth half open. "Seriously… How come we didn't think of that? Pauline? How did we miss this? We put in all that effort, and yet…"
"I think Jorah is pretty smart," Pauline said, "don't take it too harshly, Amelia. Maybe we should have asked him for advice, instead of trying to do it all ourselves."
"No way! Don't you see, that would just be another excuse for them to call us useless? Look! Karesh is already about to say it," Amelia said.
"Well, you are," Karesh said.
"I could have offered some advice…" Kaya mumbled, though it didn't seem as if anyone had heard him.
"Regardless, it seems you've managed to solve the issue, provided you do get a mount," Oliver cut in. "What are your thoughts, Lady Blackthorn?"
From the way Lasha blinked her eyes and tilted her head quizzically, it was quite evident she hadn't been listening. Snow settled on her eyelashes, and she used the need to brush it away as an excuse to deflect the conversation. "Sorry, I've got snow… You can do whatever you wish."
"Hah…" Oliver sighed. "I know you're getting stronger, Lasha, but you really ought to put a little bit of effort into leading, you know?"
"I do put effort in," Lasha said defensively. "But right now, you said we'd spend the next hour or two training and well… I'm waiting."
"Adorable," Amelia breathed, seeing how childishly her lady behaved when it concerned training.
Indeed, that was what Oliver had promised. The day was longer, and he didn't doubt that he'd be able to hunt what he needed to just as easily as he had the week before – if not more easily. As such, he'd promised to look over the training of the group. The next mission with Skullic was approaching, after all, and he'd promised to bring them, as long as they could demonstrate their worth, somewhat.
Given that Oliver was unsure where he would be next week – he might have needed to be in Solgrim – the group of them understood that this might have been their only chance to demonstrate what improvements they'd made in their time training alone. Oliver had even begun training with Lasha less.
It was now a rarity that the two had an opportunity to spar on a lunchtime, so she was just as excited as the rest.
They'd all come dressed for battle, wearing their best equipment. Oliver hadn't bought his retainers any armour yet, but it seemed the Kaya's parents had sent him his father's old set, which he now wore. Jorah only had a leather chest plate for his defence, as well as his spear, whilst Karesh wore a shirt of mail that he'd also salvaged from home.