Nora crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Roblan, though there was no real heat behind it. "You're imagining things," she said firmly.
"Jolthar and I are just… colleagues. That's it."
Jolthar's smirk widened as he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. The tension that had gripped the room moments ago had dissolved into something lighter, though the weight of their situation still loomed in the background.
He glanced at Nora, who was glaring at him with a mix of shock and indignation, and decided to push her buttons just a little further.
"No, if I have to say," Jolthar began, his tone deliberately casual, "you're more like my stepdaughter."
Nora's eyes widened, her brows twisting in pure disbelief.
For a moment, she seemed unable to process what he had just said.
Then, her face flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. "What the fuck are you talking about?" she snapped, her voice rising an octave.
Jolthar's smirk didn't waver.
In fact, it only grew more pronounced. "Well," he said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness, "if I marry your mother, then you would become my stepdaughter." He emphasized the last word, drawing it out as if savouring the absurdity of the statement.
Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he added, "You should call me father."
Roblan, who had been watching the exchange with growing amusement, couldn't hold back his laughter any longer. He burst out laughing, clutching his sides as tears streamed down his face. "Oh, by the gods," he managed to say between laughs, "this is too much!"
Nora, meanwhile, looked like she was about to explode. Her face turned a deep shade of red, and she clenched her fists at her sides. "You—you—" she stammered, unable to find the words to express her frustration.
Finally, she let out a frustrated growl and stomped her foot on the ground. "I can't believe you!" she shouted before turning on her heel and storming out of the tent.
Jolthar and Roblan watched her leave, then glanced at each other. Their laughter echoed through the tent as the flap closed behind her.
For a moment, the weight of their earlier confrontation with the envoys seemed to fade, replaced by the simple joy of shared humour. But as their laughter subsided, Roblan leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Thanks to you," he said, his voice still tinged with amusement, "I'm feeling better now. That was… exactly what I needed."
Jolthar nodded, his smirk softening into a more genuine smile. "It's no use fretting over what happened," he said, his tone more serious now. Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on novel•fire.net
"I should have stayed calm back there, but Nora did that for me. She's got a good head on her shoulders, even if she doesn't always show it."
Roblan chuckled, shaking his head. "My sister… she's something else, all right. You both have been doing so much for this barony, and I'm just… I'm really glad you came here, Jolthar. I don't know where we'd be without you."
Jolthar's expression remained still and for a moment. But then, true to form, he couldn't resist adding, "You should call me father too."
Roblan burst out laughing again, raising an eyebrow as he shook his head. "You're impossible," he said, still chuckling. But then, his expression grew more serious, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"So… what are we going to do about the 300 men? The Emperor's decree isn't going away, and we don't have much time."
Jolthar's smile faded, and he leaned back in his chair, his face turning grim. The weight of their situation came crashing back, and the air in the tent grew heavy once more.
"Two days," he said quietly, almost to himself. "We need to send 300 men to the southern borders, to the County of Godeylet, in two days."
Roblan nodded, his expression mirroring Jolthar's seriousness. "We don't have the men," he said, his voice low. "Not after the last battle. Most of our soldiers are still recovering, and the ones who are fit to fight… we can't afford to send them away. Not with the construction going on. We need them."
Jolthar sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know," he said. "But if we don't comply, the Empire will see it as defiance. And we can't afford that, not with the Ministry already breathing down our necks."
The two men sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their predicament pressing down on them.
The County of Godeylet was a dangerous place, especially now, with the Chittera gathering their forces. Sending men there would be a death sentence for many of them, and it would leave the Barony of Tekkora vulnerable. But defying the Emperor's decree was not an option.
Jolthar sat up straighter, his expression hardening with resolve. The weight of the Empire's demands and the scrutiny of the envoys had pressed upon him, but he would not be crushed under it. His decision was made.
"I will go by myself," he declared, his voice firm. "My drake and I are enough—more than enough."
Roblan's eyes widened in shock. "What?! You can't do that! If you go alone, they'll label us traitors for failing to meet the decree. The Empire won't just let this slide."
Jolthar smirked, leaning back slightly. "Don't worry. If they get the results they want, they won't yap about it."
Roblan was still shaking his head, unconvinced. "Still, we should at least send a hundred or so men. Even if they're not fully trained, it'll show that we're complying with the order."
Jolthar dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "No need. I am three hundred men myself. My drake is healed, and we'll be ready for whatever they throw at us."
Roblan stared at him, his expression torn between disbelief and admiration. "Are you serious?"
Jolthar nodded, with his casual demeanour. Like it was some play he was going into. He didn't seem worried about the whole situation, unlike Roblan.