Chapter 17: Feeling Green.

Chapter 17: Chapter 17: Feeling Green.

In Bongo’s opinion, this really was becoming a rather unfortunately regular occurrence. The long-suffering look on his king’s face indicated that he felt much the same.

"Well," Gurdet began, "...Here we are again, Bongo."

"Indeed, Your Majesty," Bongo managed to grit out without sounding overly forced. His king just surveyed him for a long moment, raking his eyes over him appraisingly and making his Third Captain’s skin itch a little. Then, without further ado, he settled back in his chair and went back to writing the letter he’d been in the middle of before Bongo had entered.

"Bongo," he repeated, after a moment of silence that had been solely filled by the sound of his quill scratching against parchment.

"Your Majesty."

"Would you please be so kind as to tell me what’s going on?" He looked up slightly, his eyebrows raised and something light and concerning in his voice. "...Why we’re here?"

A lot of lesser men would have flailed under their king’s gaze or quivered at his tone. But Bongo was not a lesser man, so he kept his back straight and resisted the urge to sigh heavily as he announced, without ceremony, "Khobi has...escaped again."

"Shocking." It was a little insulting at how nonchalantly Gurdet went back to his letter. "Truly, Bongo, I’m wondering if you keep letting him escape so we can continue to have these lovely little chats."

"I would never –"

"I’m joking, of course," Gurdet assured him with a light roll of his eyes as he leaned back to survey his Third Captain, as uncomfortable as ever with his king’s jokes. "But really, how did he do it this time?"

"...Well, we had had to unbarricade his door –"

"Mmm, so you did let him escape."

" –It was a precautionary measure," Bongo corrected him, before adding, a little guiltily, "...There was an...incident."

"An incident?" Gurdet inquired in interest, gesturing for him to continue.

"As Princess Xena suggested...Khobi...tried to climb out his window again," Bongo explained with a small wince, "He...fell –almost certainly to his death if Montrel hadn’t been in time to save him." He politely ignored the fact that his king snickered at the very notion. "We figured that...in the event he try again, we’d have more time if we had fewer obstacles." He also neglected to add that it had been the general consensus of the palace guard that it was better that Khobi tried a mad dash out the door than wind up splattered from trying the window, but it seemed that Gurdet had perhaps picked up on that.

"So, he can now just walk right out his door?" he deadpanned, sinking into his chair with a dramatic sigh.

"He snuck out when a servant brought him his food."

"And where were his guards?"

Bongo’s expression darkened slightly.

" –We had a situation of our own to deal with," was what he said, which was really code for ’Hasbar was drunk and running his mouth down at the tavern and Gandy was having none of it and things started getting out of hand’. "And, what with Lord Spidra’s birthday revelries approaching...we couldn’t afford to have any...indiscretions." Drunk, brawly soldiers aren’t welcome at fancy noble events.

Gurdet sighed in understanding, adding, "Well, do you at least know where he is?" Bongo didn’t want to have to reply in the negative so decided to stay silent, which in essence, spoke for itself.

" –From what I understand, Your Majesty..." Instead, it was Gurdet’s attendant, who had been lingering in the shadows beside his chair, that decided to speak for him. He took a step forwards, adjusting his glasses as he did so and gazing down over at Bongo with piercing green eyes that seemed more than a little disapproving at what the man obviously considered a failure. "...No one is in pursuit of the Prince."

The ’he doesn’t like being called that’ twitched and died on Bongo’s lips. A Captain he might be, but the Vogrid’s family was old and noble and powerful, and knew it, and it would not do to criticise the heir to that kind of family name. King Gurdet’s eccentricities, often questionable personality, and mannerisms he had grown accustomed to over the years. Vogrid Vector’s, he had not.

The man was younger than him –close to the princess in age, in fact, and had seen far fewer wars than the captain himself, and yet there was something so detached about him, something brusque and cold that Bongo didn’t quite know what to make of these days, young people this days already looked as mature as ever. A good captain knew his place. So no matter what once upon a time he might have been permitted to say, his mouth tightened around the words that had slipped too easily into habit, and he said nothing.

Immersed in lamentation, Gurdet sighed and ran a heavy hand down his face as though it was in fact him that was being most inconvenienced by this whole ordeal.

"Where are all the people who serve me?" he complained in a melodramatic huff, and Vogrid’s voice didn’t shift from its deadpan.

"Occupied, Your Majesty."

"Occupied," Gurdet sniffed dismissively, "Well, I guess I can’t complain that our guest is boring, can I?"

"Your daughter would say you deserved it."

" –She would," Gurdet conceded, "But it sounds suspiciously like you’re saying it too." He shook his head to clear it, shooing his Third Captain away dismissively, "Bongo, go tend to your subordinates, I do not want to deal with Lord Spidra’s complaining about the inadequacies of the castle guard again, thank you. And as for our runaway prince..." he trailed off, a sly little spark glinting in his eye, "Vogrid. If you would –"

He needn’t have said any more. The Jade-haired man was already stiffly stalking past the captain towards the door, sternly adjusting his glasses on his nose as he went. And Bongo nodded formally, wondering how eyes famed for being so green, could somehow seem so grey.

"I’ll handle it, Your Majesty."