A Second Day with Olivia and Otto
Galia Fortress
Otto, patrolling the corridors of the fortress, noticed Olivia in a corner of the fortress garden wielding a hoe with great enthusiasm. He found the sight of her with something other than a weapon in hand quite refreshing.
“Major Olivia, I thought you were due to go out and meet the enemy soon,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, Colonel Otto. I’m going to plant some flowers,” she explained. She wiped away her sweat with the towel around her neck, then flashed him a toothy smile. Otto looked down and saw that the ground was neatly plowed. He was fairly sure he hadn’t given permission for flowers to be planted in the fortress garden, but right now he mostly felt surprised by Olivia’s behavior.
“I never imagined you were interested in flowers,” he remarked.
“Really, ser?” Olivia said, cocking her head, before immediately going back to swinging her hoe.
“Did you happen to get permission to plant flower seeds here?” Otto inquired. “I’m quite sure I didn’t give it to you.”
“Permission? Yes, I got permission from General Paul.”
“From Lord Paul?”
“Yes, ser. He told me to plant as many as I like,” Olivia said. Otto frowned.
I don’t know... he thought. Lord Paul is too soft on her, as usual. She never tries to improve, no matter how many warnings I give her. I’m at quite a loss for what to do with her. He had a mind to take his complaint to Paul himself, but unfortunately the general was away. Now that Olivia had permission from the supreme commander of the fortress himself, even Otto couldn’t stop her. Though he never brought it up, he was sure the girl must also be a real pain in the neck for Claudia too.
“Provided Lord Paul has issued his permission, I shall say nothing more about it. Might I ask, however, what kind of flowers you are planting?” If she was going to plant seeds, he thought, a whole variety would be ideal. When they bloomed it would add a bit of color to the stark interior of the fortress. He was just thinking that Olivia’s idea might not be such a bad one when she declared that she was only sowing raspberia.
“Why only have raspberia seeds?” he demanded. Raspberia, with its pale purple and yellow petals, was undeniably a beautifully delicate flower, but there were plenty of other beautiful blossoms. Otto didn’t understand why she would limit herself only to raspberia.
In response to his question, Olivia put down her hoe, then looked at him with utter bewilderment.
“Huh? Obviously raspberia flowers taste the best,” she replied. Otto spent a moment wondering if his hearing had failed him. Just when he thought Olivia had a fondness for flowers like a proper young girl, she revealed that she meant to eat them? It beggared belief. He cursed himself for a fool for allowing himself to be impressed even for a moment.
“However gluttonous you may be, surely there’s no call for eating flowers,” he protested. “We certainly pay you enough.”
“Eat them?” Olivia exclaimed, before doubling up with laughter. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to eat them.” Watching her, Otto thought of how it was said that girls of a certain age laughed at the drop of a hat. It seemed even Olivia, despite lacking all other social graces, was no exception.
“You’re forgetting your manners, Major,” Otto warned her. “But more to the point, was it just my imagination that I heard you say raspberia flowers taste the best just now?”
“No, I did say that,” Olivia said, then added, “ser.”
“Well, then.”
“It’s the nectar that tastes good, ser,” she said. “Ashton said that mixing it into his mustard would add, like, depth? To the flavors. So I’m growing raspberia flowers because they have the sweetest nectar, and then Ashton will make me lots and lots of delicious mustard.” Olivia, her expression dreamy, went back to swinging her hoe again. It appeared to Otto that there was a renewed intensity to her work. He also noted that, by the sounds of it, it wasn’t just Claudia Olivia was tormenting, but Ashton as well. He didn’t intend to cut Ashton any slack in his tutelage just because of that, however.
“Your mission is fast approaching,” he reminded her. “Don’t get too carried away.”
“Yes, ser,” she replied, prolonging each syllable. No discipline at all, Otto thought. He heaved a sigh, then left the garden.
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