A Day With Olivia and Gile
It’s almost finished... Gile was beating away with his hammer in a corner of the training grounds when he sensed a divine presence behind him. At once, he fell to his knees in a demonstration of fealty.
“What are you making in here?” Olivia asked, peering at his hands.
“I am making a throne, my lady.”
“A throne? You mean the chair the king sits on? Why are you making one?”
To be sure, King Alfonse would have his own craftspeople to make his throne and furniture, but Gile perceived that Olivia was laboring under a significant misunderstanding.
“Not like that,” he said, waving his hands. “It is for you that I am making this throne, Lady Olivia.”
“For me?” she repeated. “But you’re making a throne, aren’t you?”
“That doesn’t matter. Won’t you try sitting in it?”
“Huh?”
“There, now.” He ushered the bewildered Olivia into the chair. No sooner had she sat down than she looked up at him in astonishment. “How is it?” He asked.
“It’s wonderful. I feel like it might suck me in. I’ve never sat in a chair like this before.” Olivia went on feeling out the chair, clearly impressed.
“A little thing like this is nothing,” he replied.
“You’re good with your hands, aren’t you, Gile? You skinned those animals we hunted like that, too. Oh, and that’s right, when the bookshelf broke the other day, you had it back up in no time.”
Gile had just happened to hear from Olivia that the bookshelf Ashton had built for her had broken. He’d wasted no time in bringing his tools and putting it back up. Olivia said she’d about half filled it with books when it broke, but this wasn’t Olivia’s fault—it was Ashton’s amateurish craftsmanship that was to blame. He’d added sliders to the shelves when he fixed them, which had made Olivia jump up and down for joy.
“It shouldn’t break again, but please call me if there is anything else you need.”
“I will!” Olivia replied. “It’s amazing how you made this chair the perfect size without measuring me or anything.” She told him about how, when she had her dress made for the victory banquet, she’d been surrounded by a crowd of women all taking her measurements. Amateurs, Gile thought, scoffing to himself
“I pride myself on my perfect grasp of your figure, my lady,” he said.
“H-Huh...!” Olivia’s smile grew strained and she slowly backed away.
Gile, who had been basking in the beautiful smile she had lately frequently began to grace him with, saw Claudia coming towards them, her shoulders drawn up.
“Don’t think you’re going to get away with talking like that.”
While Olivia quailed, Gile clicked his heels and saluted. Claudia’s eyes narrowed and she bore down on him.
“What were you saying about the general’s figure?”
“I only said that I have a perfect grasp of her figure...” From her manner, it was clear Claudia was enraged, but he couldn’t for the life of him see why.
“A perfect grasp of her figure?”
“Yes, ser. As one in service to her ladyship, it’s only natural that I should.” Gile thought this should be self-explanatory, but at his answer, Claudia reached out and yanked hard on his ear.
“Owowowow!”
“We can’t talk here. Let’s take this elsewhere,” she hissed.
“Wha?! I don’t—Captain Olivia, please, help me!” He cried. But Olivia only turned away regretfully.
“I’m sorry, Gile,” she said quietly. “Humans have some things we can do, and some things we can’t.”
And so, Gile was dragged away by Claudia, without any idea what was happening.
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