Chapter 159 - 157: Message Delivered.

Chapter 159: Chapter 157: Message Delivered.

That’s a loaded question if Rogard’s ever heard one, and wisely opts out of answering. Which, as it turns out, is just as bad.

​" Ooh , you got someone in mind?" Gandy asks impishly, eyes gleaming wickedly. And while Rogard might have, just for a second, maybe thought of someone, he’d rather die than admit it. And who it was.

​" No! " he deflects immediately, but with enough force that at least to his own, burning ears, it sounds way too much like yes .

​He can only hope that his ears don’t look as warm as they feel. Thankfully, before anyone can notice, Mural chooses that moment to politely point out that there is, in fact, a young lady lingering nearby who is paying an inordinate amount of attention to Khobi; information that immediately shifts attention from him.

​" — You reckon?" Montrel inquires curiously, with an element of disbelief that Rogard hopes Khobi finds offensive. Is it really so strange that someone finds him attractive?

"Khobi? Really?"

​"She’s been looking this way since he came over," Mural informs him quite seriously. Khobi looks like this is news to him, and cranes his neck to see just who Mural is talking about.

As soon as his eyes are on her, the girl looks away. And then back, just to make sure he’s still looking.

​"Well fuck me ," Montrel states, matter-of-fact, and gives Khobi a cheeky wink, "Go on then, why don’t you ask her for a dance?"

​"...Uh, why?" Khobi deadpans, since he’s made his feelings towards dancing pretty clear.

​"...Coz she looks like she wants to dance with you?"

​"I dunno," Gandy smirks, tone sly and knowing, "I don’t think it’s dancin’ she wants to do with you."

​That’s food for thought.

​They look again. As a unit, which Rogard wants to howl at them for. Obviously when you’re trying to scope someone out you don’t all look at once .

They might be great soldiers, but they are terrible when it comes to sniffing out gossip.

​Although it does look like Gandy has a point.

​The young lady doesn’t exactly look like she’s got something as innocuous as dancing on her mind.

Rogard’s no stranger to coy looks, and the intent behind him ,occasionally he’s been the one wearing them ,and it honestly seems like her’s is intended for Khobi.

​"She’s pretty," Rogard remarks absent-mindedly, more because he’s supposed to say it than because he means it. He doesn’t recognise her ,she’s probably from one of the visiting kingdoms.

Probably not a princess; more likely a daughter, or sister , maybe even the wife ,of someone important. Probably watched what had gone down during the tournament and liked what she saw.

​"He should go for it," Gandy comments offhandedly, as the girl fails at hiding a smile; knowing that they’re talking about her.

​"Dunno," Montrel remarks with uncertainty, "Ain’t it kinda bad taste to hook up with someone at your own engagement party?"

​"Loac’s going to,"

Gandy points out, and no one contradicts him, "Why can’t Khobi?"

​In the end, it’s Khobi’s choice whether or not he wants to accept the woman’s unspoken offer, and although Rogard privately reckons that dance was probably the closest Khobi’s gotten to human contact of the steamier kind since he came to the castle, when they all turn to look at him, he doesn’t seem all that interested.

​"Uh, I’m good," he states, when he realises that they’re waiting to hear his verdict.

​"Not your type?" Montrel queries. Khobi wrinkles his nose, and makes a sound that’s neither here nor there.

​"...Not really."

​" — ’Not really’ as in you don’t dig blondes," Montrel asks with an impish smirk, giving Khobi a suggestive nudge in the ribs, "...Or ’not really’ as in you’d rather she had a brother?" Khobi considers the question for a moment, brow furrowed.

​"Both?" he decides, and immediately gets smacked in the head by Montrel.

​"Hey, what’s wrong with blondes?" he growls hotly, as Khobi shoves him back.

​" Plenty !"

​" - Well in that case," Gandy interrupts, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt, and smoothing back his hair as he catches the young lady’s eye, "If you’re not gonna ask her to dance, I will."

​...

​True to her promise, Xena delivers Khobi’s message. Word perfect, too, just in case his choice of words had some sort of secret meaning she wasn’t supposed to understand.

It had seemed really important to him, after all, and he had seemed under the impression that her cousin would know what he was talking about.

She doesn’t really expect him to listen, because he rarely does, but to her surprise he hears her out, and frowns when she’s finished, like he’s considering her words, and what they might mean.

​"...He said that?" he asks after a long moment, voice low, and when he meets her gaze, the quiet intensity that greets her leaves her slightly taken aback.

​"Yes," she tells him, a little breathlessly, "Exactly that."

​Her cousin falls silent again, presumably to mull over what he’s just heard, and Xena waits with curiosity to see what he makes of it, but when he decides to speak, it’s merely to announce --in a somewhat anticlimactic fashion -- that he’s going to get another drink.

​Which Xena finds utmostly strange, because he hasn’t even finished the one he’s holding.

But when she makes to point this out to him, her father hushes her.

​"Let him go," he advises quietly, as her cousin turns his back on them without another word. She wonders if she’ll see him again tonight.

​"Is he all right?" she asks quietly, brow furrowing far deeper than a princess’ brow should, "He seemed a little... strange ."

​"He did, didn’t he?" her father remarks offhandedly, using the tone he loves to use when he wants her to know that she’s fallen behind.

"Maybe he’s just tired," he suggests airily, even though they both know that it’s not just that, "Gods know he looks it."

​Now that , Xena can agree with.

​She doesn’t know how, because after a fight like that most men would have been out cold for hours, but her dear cousin looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.

​"...At least he’s here," she finds herself saying aloud, because if nothing else, she could rest easy tonight knowing that he was okay.

Physically, at least.

As for what was going on in his head, she really couldn’t say.