CLACK!
But with a clack of wood against wood, Oliver easily brushed her aside.
"By the way, Verdant," he said. "What tea have you prepared for us?"
He was doing it on purpose. She knew that. She knew from the moment she'd seen the teasing smiles on both their faces that they were trying to rile her up, make her lose her temper. He was doing it again, by pretending that his attention was directed elsewhere, as he looked to that boy called Peter and the tea that he was serving them.
She struck once more. He'd even presented a bit of his back this time. She swore to make him take her seriously. The sword of the Blackthorn was something that everyone took seriously.
