Chapter 118 - 117: Teacher.

Chapter 118: Chapter 117: Teacher.

There’s always some kind of commotion going on in the kitchens, but this is definitely new.

Servants are usually so diligent and focused that finding a whole crowd of them loitering around a table in the kitchens is unusual, and highly unprecedented.

And whatever’s holding their undivided attention must be utterly enthralling because no one even scolds him for having been absent for what by now must be an unseemly length of time.

And a lot of servants love throwing occasional shade at each other just as much as their masters.

​But when he sees what exactly they’re all so fascinated, he gets it, and he can’t help but laugh, because while he’s used to seeing Khobi Frost wolfing down food enough to feed a small city, most of the servants are not, and look on in a healthy mixture of fascination and disgust.

He doesn’t blame them; the first time he saw Khobi eating it was a somewhat otherworldly experience.

​By the looks of things, he’s made more of his meat bread, and is somehow managing to cram an inhuman amount of food into his mouth whilst at the same time fielding nervous, but inquisitive questions over which herbs and spices he likes to use.

​Bless them; some of the servants are taking notes.

​He’s making an admirable attempt at hiding it, but to Binny’s keen eyes, Khobi looks kind of like he’s enjoying himself.

​Could be the food, though. It’s pretty tasty. Binny wonders what his chances are of sneaking one.

There’s no way Khobi’s intending to finish all of that when he’s just spent the better part of the evening gorging himself up in the dining hall.

​"Weren’t you just at a feast?" Binny inquires at the first chance he gets, because this is Khobi, after all, and he wouldn’t put it past him.

There’s a pile of bread stacked high on the plate in front of Khobi, and there’s an empty one right next to it that Binny has the sneaking suspicion was once just as full.

​"Yeah," Khobi replies flatly, like he’s wondering what his point is. "But I got hungry again."

​" Got hungry again ," Binny echoes, shaking his head in utter disbelief. "Unbelievable. Silas’s one sick bastard.

He’s planning on starving us out, and he’s sent you to eat everything in the kingdom."

​"That’s not Silas’s style," Khobi retorts dryly, as though Binny hasn’t just made the quip of the century, "He’d probably be more likely to poison all your food."

​" Right ," Binny deadpans, and decides now is as good a time as any to disperse the crowd before Khobi can say anything else morbid about his previous owner.

"Okeydokey, folks, back to it; nothing to see here," he chirps, and, like the filthy hypocrite he is, shoos them back to work as though he hasn’t just been skiving off work just as bad. If not worse.

​Definitely worse.

​" --Give the man some space."

​"They’re fine," Khobi snorts through a mouthful of food, as the servants reluctantly start to disperse.

Some of them --pretty ones even --send shy smiles his way as they take their leave. A couple of them even blush, and Khobi barely seems to notice; too concerned with the hungry way Binny’s eyeing up the overflowing plate in front of him.

"You want one?" he offers, and Binny’s a little touched by the lack of hesitation.

​" --Well of course I want one," he sniffs, like it’s taken him long enough to ask, and to the envy of the room, plonks himself down on the nearest stool and gratefully accepts the plate that Khobi pushes over to him. "Did you save me some?"

​"Well, I was gonna save em for later, but they keep disappearing," Khobi complains crossly, "So I figure you might as well have them now."

​"Wow," Binny snickers dryly, "I’m touched."

​"I don’t get it," Khobi complains, ripping into a new bun with his teeth and spilling sauce everywhere , "I wrap em up good, too, so the mice don’t get to them, but when I come back they’re always gone."

He considers, for a long moment, deep in thought, and eventually remarks, like it’s completely plausible, "Maybe the mice here are smarter than the ones in Seirin."

​Binny stares at him for a long moment, and then bursts out laughing. Khobi just blinks, brow furrowed in confusion, like he doesn’t realise what an absurd thing he’s said, and that just makes it even funnier.

​" Or ," he offers graciously, " More likely , someone’s taking them. Dunno who though.

Servants aren’t supposed to pinch from the cupboards, and nobles don’t come down here." That’s not strictly true; it’s just not usually food that they’re after.

​He doesn’t think Khobi will like hearing that.

​"Didn’t you used to sneak me cakes?" he points out, and it feels like a subtle reminder that he hasn’t done so in some time.

​"We aren’t supposed to," Binny reiterates. Just because they’re not supposed to doesn’t mean they don’t.

If they can’t take the occasional treat from the cupboards without getting found out, they’re not cut out to be servants in this kind of castle.

But he’s pretty sure none of the servants are stupid or bold enough to steal Khobi’s damn snacks.

For the most part they still regard him with the healthy mix of fear and awe that his reputation demands, but if the crowd he’s just had to disperse is anything to go by, that stands to change.

​Good.

​Khobi’s not so bad.

​"Hey," he prefaces suddenly, and there’s something odd enough about his tone that Binny’s chewing slows, "So I heard a rumour."

​"Funny, that’s usually my line," he snickers back and Khobi glares at him for his cheek as he fidgets with his food. He’s not wrong, but that’s hardly the point.

​"...I heard that you and that Vogrid guy were friends."

​The revelation doesn’t seem to shock or embarrass Binny nearly as much as Khobi had expected.

​In fact, if anything, Binny seems a little disappointed that it’s not something more scandalous.

​"Hmm?" he muses, chewing thoughtfully, "Yeah, me and Vector go way back." A swallow.

A tight one, if Khobi ever saw one, but who’s he to say so, "...I thought you knew that already?"

​Huh .

​Khobi pauses. That sounds like something that Binny would have definitely told him --the guy’s been chatty and oversharing since the moment they’d met.

He’s sure Binny’s hinted at them knowing each other as kids, but friends , and close ones at that --that definitely seems like something outrageous enough for him to remember.

​"Is he the one who taught you to fight?" he asks instead, and Binny thankfully doesn’t call him out for not reading between the lines.

In fact, if anything, he’s slow to answer, and although he’s looking right at him with those sharp, piercing eyes of his, Khobi feels for the first time, that Binny doesn’t really see him.

​"He did."

​That explains some things.

​"...Never would’ve learned otherwise," Binny admits with a shrug, and some of the fog in his expression lifts as Khobi stares at him, "It’s...it’s a servant thing. In that we’re not supposed to know how."

​"But you’re good," he scoffs, even though he’s starting to understand that this is the kind of kingdom where that sort of thing doesn’t matter.

​"Am I?" Binny inquires innocently, even though he clearly knows he is. Because he is.

Good, that is. Khobi thinks back, just briefly, of the times he’s seen the servant with a knife in hand --of quick hands and sharp grey eyes --and wonders just how good he could’ve been, in another time; a bit more training.

He’d probably give some soldiers some real trouble.

​"...So what happened?" he asks casually, mouth half full. It’s a broad question, but Binny’s smart enough to read between the lines, and his chewing slows as he mulls over his answer.

​"Oh, you know," he replies flippantly, "Servants gotta be servants, and nobles gotta be nobles."

He swallows heavily and adds, almost as an afterthought, "And I guess princes gotta be princes, too. ...Those sort of expectations kinda make people grow apart."

​Ah.

​"Right," Khobi replies awkwardly, already regretting having asked, since he’s poorly equipped to deal with the answer, "That uh, sucks?"

​It’s not exactly eloquent, or insightful, or even helpful, but it makes Binny laugh. He’s not sure why, exactly, but it does, and it doesn’t feel like it comes from a place of malice so it can only be a good thing.

​"You’re telling me," he chuckles dryly, wiping sauce off his mouth with one of his sleeves.

"He was uh..." He trails off, searching, and it takes him a while to find the right words.

A long time, for someone who tends to use so many, and with such little restraint. And even then, Khobi gets the feeling that he’s holding something back. "...He’s...he’s not a bad guy, you know?"

​There’s more to it than that; something more, or maybe just something else, that Binny seems to want to --or would rather --say, but for once he keeps his silence.

​"...Anyways, isn’t it getting kinda late?" Binny asks through a mouthful of food, and the abrupt and clunky change of subject doesn’t escape Khobi’s notice. But he lets it happen.

They’re both tired, and they’re hungry, and apparently for once Binny doesn’t feel like talking.

​"You’ve got another long day tomorrow."