Chapter 69: The Look Of A Prince.

Chapter 69: Chapter 69: The Look Of A Prince.

"You know, Khobi, I never really took you as one for scandal ," Binny comments conversationally. Khobi, sitting in the tub in his room scrubbing dirt off his skin, stares at him in confusion. Honestly, that’s meant to be Binny’s job,washing one’s master(s) was but one of the array of delightful jobs expected of a good castle servant, but Khobi was having none of it. He didn’t trust Binny’s hands, he said, couldn’t keep track of em both at the same time, and he didn’t like that.

Binny considered that a compliment.

And if Khobi wanted to make his life easier, then who was he to complain? If Khobi wanted to look like a right idiot trying to scrub dirt off his back when his arms obviously didn’t want to move that way, then that was his business. It meant he could relax for a little until he was expected elsewhere, or until Khobi sent him away. Which he hadn’t, yet.

"What are you talking about?" Khobi grumbles shaking water out of his ear and trying for his back again. As if it wasn’t already improper enough that he was perched on the end of Khobi’s bed, Binny snickers.

" Well ," he says, drawing out the word with glee, "No sooner is your engagement to our dear prince made official than I start hearing rumours that you’ve started attracting the attention of other men --"

Khobi almost inhales a mouthful of bathwater, and Binny has to patiently wait for him to stop choking to hear what he has to say to that.

"I’ve what ?" he splutters eventually, and Binny thinks to himself that the other servants wouldn’t be quite so terrified by Khobi Frost if they could see him looking so aghast.

"And to think ," he teases, smirking, "I had to hear about your new love affair through the grapevine. I’m hurt, Khobi. I thought we were closer than that."

" -- Love affair ??" Khobi’s voice goes so unusually high that Binny almost loses his own game by laughing. He’s been told more than once that he can be insufferable tease, which honestly makes it all the more impressive how many have suffered him.

"Oh yes," Binny says, quite seriously, "A noble, no less. Handsome, apparently. I hear he’s quite enthralled with you. It’s a good thing our prince isn’t exactly the jealous type, or you’d both be in a bit of trouble." Khobi looks seriously alarmed by this information.

"You’re fucking with me."

Good guess.

"Not at all," he titters innocently, resisting the urge to laugh at the horrified look on Khobi’s face. "He’s already quite devoted to you, it seems. Comes down to the training grounds every day to see you, if rumour is to be believed."

He lets Khobi digest this information.

An empty bucket comes flying at him a second later and he dives across Khobi’s bed to get out of the way. Water sloshes up over the sides of the bath.

"Fuck, you’re not talking about Rogard, are you??"

"Got you, didn’t I?" Binny chortles, shaking with laughter as Khobi grimaces like the thought of he and Rogard involved in some sort of sordid love affair left a particularly bad taste in his mouth.

"People don’t think that, do they?" he groans, wrinkling his nose, "That we’re like..."

" Involved ?" Binny finishes for him, graciously offering a word he hopes won’t be too traumatic. It seems to be sort of what Khobi was going for. "I doubt it. There are some rumours people don’t want to believe." Rogard Spidra. The golden child of the castle. Brilliant, handsome, and blessed with otherwordly charm and a terrifying father. No noble in their right mind would ever dare imply that his interest in a common beast was anything indecent. The Lord Spidra did not look kindly on offenses against his house. Lashings were less common in Crade than other kingdoms, it was said --a byproduct of a kind princess and a king who thought the punishment was barbaric --but were by no means against their laws. It was something Lord Spidra knew well, and had been known to take advantage of.

"Seriously, just let me --" Binny sighed, clambering off the bed as Khobi splashed water everywhere again as he wriggled in the bath. He snatched the washcloth out of his hands before Khobi could stop him and held both up to placate him when he glared, scandalised. "Look, do you want to be clean or not? I do this a lot, you know. And no one’s ever complained."

That wasn’t exactly true, but Khobi didn’t need to know that. He’s fairly certain he hadn’t quite deserved the black eye, but he’s just a servant, so what would he know?

"Turn around," Binny sighs long-sufferingly, raising an eyebrow when Khobi glares back at him like a child. "No funny business, I promise."

After a long moment Khobi decides to take him at his word and unfolds, settling back into the bath and allowing him to get to work on his back. It’s bruising a little, behind the scars, but in comparison to what Binny’s seen in previous weeks --or is it months, by now --it’s nothing major.

He sneaks a glimpse out the window and notes the way the trees in the distance don’t quite seem quite as green anymore. Summer was finally starting to come to an end. It had been a long one. A hot one, too, which probably meant they were in for a long, cold winter.

Lovely .

"I was joking about the affair," he starts off, and Khobi groans like he doesn’t like where this is going. "But what gives? My sister’s been down at the stables a lot and reckons she sees him there every morning. Have you two decided not to kill each other just yet?"

"I don’t want to kill him --"

"Yes, yes, you want to fight him, I remember," Binny chirps patiently, rinsing off Khobi’s shoulders with practiced hands. "And now you’ve both gotten yourselves in trouble with Drogger and he’s teaching you a lesson before he lets you chop each other up, is that about right?"

Khobi doesn’t reply, which is just about as good as an answer.

"She says his feet are getting better, too," he adds, and that gets Khobi’s attention. "Bodies heal pretty fast when you actually let them," he points out meaningfully. "Should be ready for his beating any day now."

"...Can’t wait," Khobi says, voice a little muffled and gurgly, and Binny knows he’s only doing it to hide how much he means it.

"Speaking of fights," Binny adds curiously, "Are you entering in the tournament?" Khobi stays silent a beat too long and Binny takes pity on him in case he’s genuinely forgotten all about it. "You know? That big, fancy duelling tournament our kingdom is holding in your honour? To celebrate the fact that someone’s finally pinning down Loac Trent?"

"...Can you not say it like that?" Khobi complains with a groan and Binny snickers.

"What? You don’t like that idea?" he teases, and dances out of reach with his cloth when Khobi tries to strangle him. "Or maybe you’d rather he was the one --" He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because another bucket --full, this time --comes flying in his direction. The bucket misses, but he’s not quite swift enough to dodge all the water.

Ah well, these things happen.

When he manages to get the soap out of his eyes, Khobi’s out of the bath and toweling himself dry with an oddly serious expression on his face. There’s something powerful in those red eyes of his, a yearning that even those without Binny’s eyes could see, and he knows without asking again, what his answer is.

It’s one of those faces that Binny wished Khobi would wear a little more, around people who didn’t believe in him.

He doesn’t say it, because Khobi would throw something else at him, but sometimes, every now and then, he really does look like a prince.