Chapter 155 - 153: The Victors Request.

Chapter 155: Chapter 153: The Victors Request.

Khobi doesn’t contradict her.

​" --Yes, yes, we all know how well he performed yesterday, Xena," Gurdet interrupts with a roll of his eyes, jumping in as he hears a strange hitch to her voice.

" --But there’s still the question of your prize."

​"My prize?" Khobi echoes.

​"Of course," Gurdet replies lightly, and is pleased that he comes across just the right amount of patronising.

"You did win, after all," he reminds him, as if concerned he’s forgotten, and Khobi’s eyebrow twitches, like he doesn’t much care for his tone.

​"I don’t want your gold, if that’s what you mean," he retorts flatly, and Gurdet wonders if he knows just how much gold they’re talking about, and how much more it would take to tempt it.

​"No gold then," Gurdet promises, indifferent, "In that case, what would you prefer?"

​The question makes Khobi think.

But interestingly enough, not for very long.

​"...Can I have a servant?" he asks curiously, and honestly, of all the possible answers, such a request had been rather far down Gurdet’s list of guesses. Possibly not even on it.

​"Excuse me?" The words -- to Gurdet’s embarrassment -- accidentally spill out, even though he heard perfectly well.

But instead of repeating his request, Khobi just squares his jaw and settles him with an insistent look, and Gurdet takes a moment to consider, politely taken aback.

He’d been expecting a request for a sword of his own, or for a horse, or at the very least a laughable attempt at getting out of his impending marriage.

He hadn’t thought Khobi to be quite so...reasonable.

And from the expression Xena’s wearing when he glances her way, neither had she.

"...I suppose so?"

​"...And he has to do everything I say?" Khobi presses, expression serious but with a strangely fervid light burning in the back of his eyes, "...And no one can stop him?"

​"Well, within reason, that is largely how it works," Gurdet replies, shrugging to hide his curiosity. Lots of lords had dedicated servants to wait on them and their families, and to answer their every beck and call.

But he’d been under the impression that Khobi hated all things lordly, so he finds the request a little baffling.

What use would he have for a servant , apart from, well, the less savoury? "--Khobi, I must say I’m surprised. I didn’t take you for the type." Khobi ignores whatever that’s supposed to mean, and nods decisively.

​"Then I want that."

​Gurdet exchanges a look with his daughter, and it doesn’t escape his notice that there are a suspicious number of his own soldiers loitering nearby --not-so-cleverly disguised as nosy onlookers.

And Bongo, whose job it is to notice soldiers encroaching on the royal family’s space and private discussions, has made no move to dismiss them, either.

​"...If that’s what you wish, then I’ll make arrangements for one," he informs him pleasantly, even throwing in a smile for good measure.

A servant? Of all things. "Would you prefer a man or a wom --" Khobi, apparently oblivious to the fact that he’s speaking to a king , cuts him off. Gurdet tries not to let it bother him.

​"I want him ," he states, and jerks his thumb off to his left, much to the alarm of the dark-haired servant he’s just singled out from the crowd.

​(Is it Gurdet’s imagination, or does Vogrid, standing just a pace behind he and his daughter, stiffen infinitesimally? It’s hard to tell --the man looks perpetually dour.)

​"Him?" Gurdet echoes curiously, and when he locks eyes with the servant, finds himself immediately struck by the piercing grey that meets him for the briefest of moments before the man dips into a crisp bow.

He’s used to the servants looking like they know things, because the servants in his castle do know things, but he gets the uncanny feeling that this one is different.

Gurdet counts himself as rather perceptive, and if he had to guess, he would say that this servant is, too.

​"Yeah, him," Khobi confirms easily, "His name’s Binny."

​"Binny?" Gurdet remarks, and is surprised to vaguely recognise the name, and the face when he beckons for the servant to come closer.

He’s noticed him in Khobi’s company on more than one occasion.

​" --And he has to do what I say, right?" he asks, as the servant joins them, looking exceptionally confused despite clearly having a grasp on the situation.

Servants are always listening, after all. Even when they’re not supposed to be. Especially when they’re not supposed to be.

​"Within reason, yes."

​"So if I wanted him to come train with me?" he asks plainly, "Like, at the training grounds? He’d have to, right? And no one could stop him?"

He looks at Gurdet, for clarification, and then at the servant standing at his side, who looks utterly floored as Khobi’s words hit home.

"That’s how it works?"

​At his side, Bongo lets out a soft chuckle. And as if Montrel isn’t already doing a terrible enough job as it is of pretending he’s not eavesdropping on his king, Khobi’s questions make his eyes widen almost comically.

​"I suppose it is," he chimes airily, and turns to address the servant directly.

He sees no reason not to grant Khobi’s strange request --though he can only speculate as to his reasons for asking such a thing of a servant --and if his daughter has any reservations of her own, she keeps them to herself for a change.

The silence that speaks loudest though, is that of the man standing just behind him; Gurdet would have thought if anyone were to comment it would be Vogrid.

He would no doubt disapprove of giving any other prisoner a personal servant, and he’s never really been very fond of Khobi, by any means.

At the very least, he would’ve expected a snide remark about whether it was strictly appropriate for a servant to receive the same training as their soldiers, but, unbelievably, no protests are forthcoming.

​"...You know how this works, don’t you?" he confirms with the servant, and although the question is largely rhetorical and he seems in shock by the turn of events, he still dips his head like he’s supposed to and assures him, "Yes, Your Majesty."

​"Excellent," Gurdet decides smoothly, pleased that the matter has been resolved so tidily, and without incident; though not without raising questions.

"In that case, I think your master has made his expectations quite clear."

​Khobi immediately heads his new servant off before he gets any funny ideas.

​"Call me master, and we’re gonna have a problem," he states flatly, grimacing like the very word leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Gurdet is both surprised, and not, by how familiarly he speaks to the servant.

​"...Of course, m’lord ." The response, while entirely genuine sounding, comes just a beat too slow, and as the servant bows once more, Gurdet catches him grinning behind his long bangs.

The title makes Khobi’s eyebrow twitch, and the king can’t help but wonder if its use was entirely deliberate. "As you wish."