Chapter 238 - 236: A Treat.

Chapter 238: Chapter 236: A Treat.

Khobi’s starting to get a hankering for some food of his own, so he finishes up with Montrel’s horse and tells her that since she’s gone and played up he won’t be bringing her any treats next time.

It’s a barefaced lie though and they both know it, and he spends quite some time fussing over her the way he’s seen Montrel do.

Loac’s right; she is a good girl, really.

​Loac too, lingers with his horse; leaning on the gate to pet him as he chomps his way through his meal, and the pair of them largely ignore him –until Khobi makes to move past, that is, at which point the horse immediately looks up and whickers at him.

​"I don’t have any more treats," he tells the horse on reflex, and gets an annoyed stamp in response.

​"He doesn’t believe you," Loac translates easily, watching the exchange with a measure of disinterest.

Khobi immediately turns out his pockets to show that there’s nothing there but sugar crumbs, but the stallion leans out over his stall as far as he can and starts demandingly nosing at his face and at his chest.

He’s got ridiculous reach on him; Khobi can see why the grooms give his stall such a wide berth.

"Hey , hey," he complains, grimacing as some oats end up in his hair, "What did I just say?"

​Unbelievably, the horse snorts in his face.

Then whinnies at Khobi’s grim expression, like he’s done it on purpose and thinks it’s hilarious.

​Khobi thinks he gets a bit of what Binny and Montrel were talking about.

​Up close he’s absolutely gigantic, and while Khobi has no eye for horses even he can tell that this is a creature of formidable strength.

Without really thinking about it, he reaches up and gives the horse a little pat on the nose; the way he’d seen Loac do before.

And after a moment the horse leans into his touch, big, dark eyes sinking closed, quite content to let him stroke him.

​"What’re they talking about?" He mutters, shaking his head. He seems kinda sweet.

​After a beat, he realises that Loac’s staring at them.

​"You like horses," he states, when Khobi glares at him. It doesn’t really feel like a question.

​"I guess," Khobi says anyways, with a small shrug. When he stops stroking the horse’s nose, he immediately gets nuzzled again as a hint to keep going.

And who is Khobi to deny a horse? "I’ve never really ridden one, though." He’s not sure why he adds that.

Loac seems surprised.

​"Never?"

​"Hmm, don’t think so," Khobi frowns, "At least not since I was a kid." That didn’t really count though; he’d been far too small to ride on his own and had always been tucked up next to his aunt or uncle.

​"...It’s fun."

​"I bet."

​A beat of silence passes between them; neither entirely comfortable nor awkward, and right on cue, Khobi’s stomach rumbles.

​Time to go, then. He peels away from Loac’s horse with one last pat and heads back to where Montrel’s mare is getting brushed down by a couple of young servant girls.

​"I’m going to have my own lunch now,"

Khobi tells the mare, and gives her a quick pat in farewell as well so that she won’t go and tell Montrel lies about him, "I think I’ve decided what I’m going to make."

​"...You’re cooking?" Loac inquires from a few paces behind him, and the question instantly gives Khobi a very bad feeling.

​"Yeah, what of it?" he heaves, and the bad feeling manifests in the shape of Loac declaring, "Wait up, I’ll come too."

​Khobi’s eyebrow twitches.

​" Huh , who said you were invited?"

​"Me?"

​" – What ?? Don’t just decide that on your own!"

​It’s too late, Loac’s already following him.

...

If Khobi had been hoping that Loac would get bored and change his mind during the walk to the kitchens, he’s left disappointed, because when they finally get there he’s still in tow, and showing no sign that he’s going to leave him be.

More irritated than he would’ve liked to be on a day off, Khobi drags off his winter cloak and leaves it hung by the door.

It’s not dirty, but it smells a bit like horses and he knows from experience that one he starts getting into it he’ll work up quite the sweat.

​Loac just breezes on past him and sets up camp at an empty bench, looking expectant.

​"Well?" he drawls insufferably, leaning into the bench and casually waving him towards the work station, "What’re you dawdling for? I’m hungry."

​Khobi grimaces.

​Even when we’re not training, this guy...

​"Get your own food, then," he heaves, annoyed that the workstation Loac’s shooed him towards just so happens to be the only one free.

He stomps past, hoping that in the time it takes him to gather up his ingredients a different one will have freed up, but luck isn’t on his side today and at this time of day when the kitchens are in full swing, he quickly comes to the realisation that if he plans to do any cooking down here, he’s going to have to set up at the very one Loac’s sitting at.

​Loac sends him a smirk as it hits, and if he drops his stuff down on the bench with more force than necessary, well who can blame him?

​Refusing to let the guy ruin his plans, Khobi defaults to pretending he’s not there.

Today, he starts with a dough. That’s always the part that takes the longest and the most work.

It’s probably not something he should be making while he’s already hungry because it’ll be a while before it’s ready, but it’ll be worth it.

It’s different from the one he usually makes; lighter and softer, and a small gaggle of servants are quick to gather as he sets at kneading it to the right consistency.

​"S-Something new today, Khobi?" one of the servants inquires curiously, taking stock of the ingredients he’s gathered.

​"Yeah, but it’s been a while so I might be a bit rusty," Khobi admits, wrinkling his nose at a stray puff of flour.

​"I-I’m sure it’ll be delicious!"