Chapter 175 - 173:All Fun And Games.

Chapter 175: Chapter 173:All Fun And Games.

They’re on their third circle of firelight, drinking a young Captain from the north and his men under the table on Khobi’s least favourite kind of ale so far –something dark and thick and grossly sweet, that it becomes evident that Rogard’s head’s not quite in the game, so to speak.

​In fact, one might almost call him distracted.

​(Which he in fact, is.)

​It’s Gandy who calls him out for it first.

​"Oi, oi," he slurs irritably, slinging an arm around Rogard’s shoulder and making him jump, "Who –hic – you looking for?"

​Rogard, closer to sober than his peers after having successfully used ’watching his figure’ as an excuse to avoid the disgusting concoction their opponents had demanded they drink, manages to pull out one of his best and most politely confused expressions.

A real classic. Highly convincing, especially when paired with the right words.

​I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met? That’s a good one.

​You really think I would do that? They like that one, too.

​That’s so strange, I don’t remember ever making such a promise. That’s one of his favourites.

​Etcetera.

​"Who says I’m looking for someone?" he replies, even though he was.

​And he’d thought he was being so discreet.

​"Me," Gandy snickers slyly, nudging him in the ribs with his free hand with a conspiratorially cocked eyebrow, "Coz you are. There a special someone we should know about?"

​Rogard does not like Gandy’s tone.

​"There’s no one."

​It’s not even necessarily a lie.

​Sure, not like, completely the truth or anything, but not a bare faced lie by any means.

​Unfortunately for him, Gandy’s bullshit senses have been heightened by his ale consumption, and he doesn’t buy

​"Oh~" he teases, and Rogard is a little concerned to find that the other soldiers are turning his way.

That’s never a good sign. It’s usually the point that they start ganging up on him.

"...The same no one you shacked up with at the ball the other night?"

​For an instant, Rogard flashes back to that

​That night. The moon.

​Drogger.

​"What are you talking about?" Rogard thinks he does pretty damn well at holding back the alarm from his voice. No one was there. No one saw. He’s sure of it.

​Pretty sure of it.

​"Oh please," Gandy snorts, rolling his eyes and releasing him, much to Rogard’s relief, "The Rogard Spidra not getting lucky at a party like that?"

​Rogard wishes he didn’t have to put it quite like that. It makes him sound so unclassy.

Sure, Gandy wasn’t entirely off the mark, but he’d always thought he’d been relatively discreet. Clearly that hadn’t always been the case.

​"Plus, you should’ve seen your face when you walked back into the party," Gandy shrugs, far too matter of fact for Rogard’s liking. "I’d know that look anywhere. Who’d you hook up with?"

​"No one." Unfortunately, Rogard is acutely aware of the kind of look he’s talking about. One didn’t grow up in a castle surrounded by people getting up to things they shouldn’t without being able to recognise the face of someone who had.

​Clearly he’s not as good of an actor as he likes to think. Or maybe he’s just out of practice.

​(He’s suddenly worried about what exactly his face looked like; about what, if anything, it had given away, and who else might have noticed.)

​"No one," he tries again, pitch a tone higher, when the rest of his fellows turn to him with eyebrows cocked and shit-eating grins plastered on their dumb, drunk faces.

​"Oooh, so it’s someone you shouldn’t have," Gandy teases, and it’s a good thing that the fires are casting them all in varying hues of red, because Rogard is starting to feel his face flush.

They won’t buy that it’s the alcohol either, not now. "Scandalous! Was she pretty?"

​"Oh I don’t know," he chips back airily, and tries a different tact, since denying it hasn’t been in the least bit effective, " –Hey Mural, do you think Gandy’s mother is pretty?"

​"Please leave me out of this."

​It has the desired effect.

​" –Oi, leave my mother out of this!"

​Rogard just shrugs, dodges the drink that gets tossed his way, and flashes him one of his brightest, most innocent smiles.

That seems to rankle him even more than Rogard’s follow up comment about how all his scowling must be why he has so many wrinkles.

​"Fine," Gandy huffs, and at Mural’s insistence, slides a fresh drink over towards him by way of a peace offering.

It’s regular ale (which their drinking buddies all boo) so Rogard makes a great show of graciously deciding to accept.

"Keep your secrets then. If she was anyone important, we’ll find out when her daddy comes to make you marry her."

​" –Like I said, there was no one," Rogard lies brazenly, and decides to go one step further since he’s petty and Gandy started it, "Not that I didn’t have the opportunity, of course...unlike some people."

​The drinks on their table bounce as Gandy emphatically slams a hand down onto the wood.

​"Hey, I’ll have you know –"

​" –Have him know what??" Montrel barks, cutting him off mid protest with a hearty slap on the back, " –That she gave up when she found out her family was richer than yours??" That gets a round of laughter and Gandy and Montrel start up at each other right on cue, and Rogard, relieved for once to have the attention shift off him, goes back to scanning the crowd. Less obviously, this time.

​He shouldn’t, especially now that he’s been called out for it, but it’s long since passed being something he can help.

​Especially now.

It’s not fair, because Rogard’s kissed people and been able to quite merrily blank them the next day.

In fact, he’s done more than just kiss people and had absolutely no interest in seeing or speaking to them again, let alone seek them out in a crowd.

He’s usually able to play it so cool; so light and breezy and completely unattached –even towards the ones he thought he might even like.