A Fourth Day With Olivia and Ashton
The Training Hall at Galia Fortress
Ashton was carefully going through the work of cleaning his sword when Olivia came over to him, blowing on a whistle she’d made from a leaf. Four days had passed since the reports had come that Northern Perscilla, the Twelfth City of the United City-States of Sutherland, appeared to be considering an invasion of the Kingdom of Fernest.
“Carefree as usual, I see,” Ashton said. “Even now, with Northern Perscilla bearing down on us.”
“Would it be better if I looked serious, then?” She screwed up her face in what she apparently thought was a serious expression, but unfortunately only ended up looking adorable.
“That’s not much different from before.”
“Serious faces are serious business, huh?” Olivia said, giving up. “Anyway, what are you doing?”
“Obvious, isn’t it?”
“Are you perhaps...cleaning your sword?”
“I am, no ‘perhaps’ about it,” Ashton snapped as he polished the middle section of the blade. Olivia looked dubious. Most likely, she thought him looking after his sword was a wasted effort.
“Look, no matter how many big, strong bodyguards you give me, you never know what could happen in battle, do you? I’m not wasting my time.”
“I didn’t say you were, did I?”
“It’s your eyes. Your eyes were saying it.”
“My eyes?” Olivia burst out laughing. “But eyes don’t have mouths. You’re so silly, Ashton.”
Ashton took great pains to make sure she couldn’t miss the glare he gave her in response. Who’d said anything about eyes having mouths?
“Anyway, did you want something from me?”
“Right! I thought we could eat dinner together, so I came to ask you.”
“Dinner?” Ashton looked up at the clock on the wall and saw that it was indeed a reasonable hour to be thinking about dinner.
“So are you coming?”
“How can I, when I haven’t finished with my sword yet?”
“Oh, I’ll do it for you then.”
“What? Hey—!” Olivia tore the sword from Ashton’s hands then, with practiced ease, began to polish it. Before five minutes had passed, the blade was gleaming brightly. Ashton couldn’t have produced the same result no matter how long he’d spent on it.
“Right, all done.” Olivia returned the sword to its scabbard, then handed it back to him with a smile.
“Olivia,” he said slowly, accepting it, “is there anything you can’t handle?”
“You mean like food?”
“Why would I be asking about food?”
“Well in that case,” she replied, “manners. But you know that, don’t you?”
“‘In that case’? What’s that supposed to mean, ‘in that’—but I suppose that’s true, huh?” This was a girl who hated both speaking to and being around people who cared about proper manners. She’d even publicly announced that she’d accepted the post of major general because it would reduce how often she had to think about military formalities. In Olivia’s case, it made perfect sense.
“Why do you ask, anyway?” Olivia asked.
“No reason. It just randomly occurred to me.”
“Huh. You’re weird, Ashton.”
“You’re the weird one.”
“Um, pretty sure I’m totally normal.”
“No, no way. No one would ever call you normal.”
“Whatever. Hurry up and let’s go.” Olivia hooked her arm through his and pulled him off along with her.
Ashton watched her walking along beside him. You are not normal, he thought, and had to concentrate furiously to stop himself from blushing.
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