Chương 11: Chapter 10

Felisia is staring daggers at Greyson while the Knight tries to ignore the loud laughter that comes from outside. Jacob had been immediately kicked out of the carriage and made ride with the driver on the top. However, instead of sulking, the young man has just started conversing with Liut, the driver.

"Oh my, sir Bocaj! You really told him that?!"

"Let me tell you, Liut, you can't just give in when these pesky bullies want to show off. The meanest they are, the stupider they are. And you must treat stupid like a gardener dealing with bad grass! Extirpate it immediately and never allow them to grow—even if you get stung a couple of times!"

Even though Jacob is recounting a story about his past, it does not take a genius to understand it's a jab at how Felisia stopped him from riding with her even after Greyson used Cleanse, a Silver Skill, to clean up all the mud from him. Jacob, who had lived among miners where a Silver Skill would be enough to make you a prospect for foreman, had been nothing short of amazed by the fact that Greyson treated it as a common, purely-learned-out-of-convenience Skill. It signified a level of weatlh foreign to him.

"How did he get so chummy with our driver already?" Felisia mutters.

"Milady," Greyson clears his voice.

"Young Bocaj Duolc has asked our companion's name immediately and engaged him in a conversation that mostly regarded not himself but the other person. That fosters a certain… complicity. And now, he's sharing his own personal stories. Intimacy is born through empathy, milady; and empathy comes, often, from shared plight. When one doesn't share plight, one can still share their own misadventures as a way to bond.

It seems that this young man—whom I had imagined living in a cave with his master—is actually quite socially adept." Judging by the empty stare Felisia returns him, Greyson understands he has just given a long, detailed explanation to a rhetorical question.

"Would you like for me to tell them to keep it down?" The Knight asks, defeated. Felisia waves her hand.

"It matters not, Greyson. Let the common folk familiarize with each other." After a few hours, when the carriage has fallen silent and only the sound of the horses trotting and the wheels squelching the mud can be heard, Greyson takes a deep breath and brings up something he meant to tell his young mistress from the moment he leveled up his Titan's Armor Skill.

"Milady," Greyson says cautiously.

"I would like to raise a point that might upset you. May I beg for your forgiveness in advance and your clemency if I was overstepping my boundaries?"

"Go on, Greyson," Felisia replies.

"Mincing words is useless. What is the matter?"

"I know you might still not believe young Bocaj, but he has displayed enough wisdom, milady, to warrant a second look at his expertise. We tried reaching Sir Niklaus Fenmore, but…" Greyson doesn't want to say that Felisia gambled away her chance to be taught by a genuine True Diamond Ranked Knight because of her arrogance. Sir Greyson himself is barely at a Platinum Ranked Knight—and he is at the very bottom of that ranking. The fact that he has a Lower True Diamond Skill meant nothing.

He wasn't weak, but he had to take menial jobs like this one to make more money and afford proper Tutoring for his Skills. Lord Clearwater has enough money to pay Sir Niklaus a hundred times over, but it's a problem of character the one his daughter is facing, not of resources. I have a hunch that the young Bocaj might be the a blessing in disguise for the young mistress, the Knight thinks.

"Sir Niklaus was rude and uncouth!" Felisia bursts out so loud that Greyson can hear the driver jump in his seat.

"He offended me multiple times!" Milady, he only pointed out that your attitude was, in his words, 'rotten.' While harsh…

"Sir Niklaus does not mince words, I fear," the man nods.

"What I would like to suggest, however, is something different. Even Sir Niklaus's knowledge is limited when it comes to rare Skills. Titan's Armor is not popular at all, young mistress. I know you believe that the young Bocaj's guidance might have been a fluke, but what if it wasn't? You were looking for a tutor all this time and what if the heavens just dropped one in our lap?"

"That fool—" Greyson stomps his foot, almost putting a hole through the carriage and cutting off Felisia." Milady!" Greyson suddenly finds himself without patience.

"I refused to be in the employment of your sisters because their ways are cruel! I do not wish either of them to inherit Clearbay, but they're currently much more advanced than you in their training! When the trial comes, if you've not made significant progress, you will lose! I swear on my honor as a Knight, milady, that if you do not give a chance to young Bocaj, I am done! I have been by your side for the better part of two years and I never dared to object to this young mistress's orders!

But if you plan on being a stubborn mule and throw the city in the hands of two evil harpies because you refused to be humbled and Tutored not only by one of the greatest Knights in the region but by an apparent prodigy, I shall request Lord Clearwater to free me from my contract, whatever penalty I shall pay!" The outburst has made the entire carriage vibrate and even Felisia, who would usually be prone to anger and instability capable of rivaling quicksilver, goes silent.

Then, while Greyson waits for his young mistress to erupt like a fiery volcano, he sees something he never saw before during these two years on the young woman's face. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Tears.

"Oh my," Greyson bites his lip.

"I'm very sorry, young mistress, I didn't mean to—" Felisia erupts in a fountain of sobs and hiccups. *"What's up with her"? I ask Greyson, looking at a sulking Felisia with a raised eyebrow. I couldn't really hear much from the outside. The carriage is enchanted so that it doesn't let sound get outside even though they can hear everything fine from inside.

"The young mistress and I had an important discussion," Greyson says with a sigh.

"Young Bocaj, would you be open to teaching her?" I look at the man in surprise.

"Does she even want me to?" I ask.

"The young mistress might look thorny, but… she is better than what she shows the outside world. Please, take my word as a Knight. Furthermore, there are a few things that might sweeten the deal for you. I know your teacher must want you to experience the world without his continuous support, which means you need to make friends. Unless your character proves to have some great flaw that I haven't spotted yet, I am ready to offer a letter of recommendation."

I look at Sir Greyson, who's looking mighty satisfied with himself, and I just stare.

"Huh—what's that?" Sir Greyson almost doubles over when he hears my question.

"Your master didn't teach you that? Wait, he didn't give you a letter at all? Not even a commendation? Not even… wow, your master must be really some character. I mean no offense, of course. Just… it's very harsh not to provide any sigil or anything for one's disciple. You look very close with your master since you know so much." Yeah, it would be cool if my master existed, honestly.

"He is quite the character," I cough out.

"But… it doesn't matter. He never really explained anything about being a Knight. We focused entirely on… studying. Yeah. He barely even trained me physically." I'm putting a few new pieces of information in so that if this guy sees me fighting like someone who never fought in his entire life, it will at least make some sense.

"He never taught you how to fight?" Sir Greyson scratches the stubble on his chin.

"Young Bocaj, on top of a letter of recommendation, any monetary compensation for your time, and my protection, I would like to extend an offer to at least learn the basics of fighting." That's too good. My goodness.

"Well, let me think about it, I'm not fully sure," I say, feeling sweat pouring down my back at the bold-faced lie I'm telling.

"See, the mistress—" What I didn't expect is that the knight kneels in front of me, making me blush immediately.

"Sir Greyson!" Even Felisia from the side screams, stunned. Even I, a lowly commoner, know that a Knight kneeling in front of you is a massive deal.

"Sir Greyson, what—""Young Bocaj," Sir Greyson says, keeping his head low.

"Clearwater will be inherited by whoever proves themselves worthy in the Sky Hunt that will start in a month. My young mistress's training has lagged behind and if you knew about Titan's Armor, I am willing to bet you will know enough to teach her whatever she needs to excel. Please, Young Bocaj, if not for me and my honor, for the future of Clearwater—take the young mistress under your tutelage."

"Ok, ok! Sir Greyson, please, rise!" I say, panicked.

"It's alright. I can teach her! I can help you too! Please, I'm about to have a heart attack!"

"Is this a promise, Young Bocaj?" Sir Greyson asks.

"YES! JUST GET UP!" I say, pulling the arm of the man but not moving him in the least.

"PLEASE! I PROMISE!" Sir Greyson smiles and finally gets up.

"My goodness, Sir Greyson," I say, feeling my heartbeat so high I might puke.

"Don't do that ever again. I feel like someone might stab me just because I had you kneel in front of me."

"I have a gut feeling about people, Young Bocaj," the man replies to me, dusting his armor.

"You give me a very good feeling."

"Whatever," I sigh.

"Thank you. Now," I turn toward Felisia, "shall we?" However, before she can even reply, a shrill voice appears over the hill.

"Young Mistress! You're finally back!" We all turn to see a man with a goatee so long it reaches his knees running downhill. Despite his old age, he glides with incredible dexterity. He has a long scarlet robe with two golden bands around his sleeves.

"Tutor Sevv," I see Sir Greyson frowning at the appearance of the man. Before I can even realize, the old man has reached Felisia and is acting all theatrically, putting a hand over his heart.

"My, my, young mistress! I thought you would never return again! We're behind on our lessons!"

"Tutor Sevv," Felisia nods her head.

"I was out looking for—""It doesn't matter, now! We must resume our lessons!" I see in the man's eyes a glint of malice. I grew up in the mines, where you must spot the rotten apples or risk dying because of some idiot in a collapsing tunnel. I don't know if I'm as good as someone who does politics for a living, but the way Sir Greyson has his own gut instinct about people, I got mine. And something tells me that this Tutor Sevv is not a good guy. Plus, you can't be good if you're sporting that long of a goatee.

It's just… evil.

"And who's this?" Tutor Sevv asks Sir Greyson after fussing over Felisia a bit more.

"This is Young Bocaj. He'll be helping the young mistress with her training."

"This green brat?!" Tutor Sevv seems immediately angered at that.

"Absolutely not! Too many cooks spoil the soup! I have been tasked by Lord Clearwater to take care of Young Mistress Felisia and that's my job and mine only! Plus, what does he have to teach, how to grow his wisdom's teeth?!" He seems a bit too upset at the news, I think to myself. He must be either really arrogant or up to no good. Or both.

"Young Bocaj is—" Sir Greyson starts.

"I'll tell you what, Sevv," I smile, "why don't we make this a little contest. Let's give Felisia guidance on one of her Skills. The one who manages to teach her better gets to help her with training."

"How do you dare address me and the Young Mistress with such rudeness!" The old man's hand starts glowing green and I feel a pit opening in my stomach. Right, I haven't gotten any levels yet and this old man can probably kill me like I could swat a fly away. Thankfully, Sir Greyson steps in front of me.

"I think it's a very good idea," Sir Greyson says with a smile.

"Young Bocaj is under my protection, too, Tutor Sevv. Please, disperse your mana." The old man harrumphs and waves the green energy away.

"I will entertain this buffoon on your behalf, Sir Greyson! But I shall have a word with Lord Clearwater the moment we get back to the city!"