Chapter 212 - 210: Race For Bread.

Chapter 212: Chapter 210: Race For Bread.

​"Oh," Khobi fumbles. He might not be the sharpest knife in the armoury, but he knows a bail out when he sees one.

"Uh...yeah, I guess." It comes out decidedly flat but from the way the princess beams at him he may as well have prostrated himself before her.

​"...And Loac?" she sends her cousin the same look.

​"...I’ll try be more careful next time," Loac drawls on cue, although it’s clear that he has no such intentions. Gurdet gives him a wry look.

​" –I’d prefer if there wasn’t a next time," he remarks, and Loac very deliberately eyes Khobi as he knocks back a handful of grapes.

​"...No promises."

​"A delight as always, Loac," Gurdet sighs into his meal, "And Khobi? Do try not to wreck any more of my castle.My soldiers seem to have become rather fond of you. I’m sure they’d miss you terribly if you were to be say , deemed too dangerous to have free run of my home."

​" Father ," the princess urges, bright smile slightly more strained than usual as she delicately picks at her meal.

Khobi, almost finished with his own plate, wonders if that’s why she’s so small. Maybe not being allowed to eat a lot was one of those weird rules princesses had to follow. "You promised you’d be nice."

​"I’m being nice, sweet daughter," her father chips back, disingenuously pleasant, "I’m just reminding Khobi here that even my generosity has its limits. And that he would be wise not to test them."

​"Don’t worry," Khobi grumbles through a mouthful of food, "I get it."

​" Wonderful ," the king beams, offering up a playful little toast, "Khobi, I’ll be honest; I never thought I’d see the day when you were the most reasonable person at my table."

​Loac’s chair makes a terrible grating noise as pushes it back and gets to his feet. The princess immediately looks alarmed.

And then a little sad, when she realises his intentions.

​" –Loac, you’re not leaving so soon, are you?" she stammers, eyes wide as he downs the rest of his wine.

​"Why not? I’m done."

​"Oh."

​She suddenly sounds very small. Strangely, it makes Khobi feel kind of bad for her.

​He still gets up from his chair, too. No one stops him.

Bongo even moves to clear the doorway, like he’s not expecting him to stay.

Clearly he’d only been called here to be reminded of his place. Which is fine –he’s used to that sort of thing –but that doesn’t mean he’s going to hang around and play nice with them.

​"Come on Binny," he states stonily, turning on his heel and following Loac’s lead. He’d prefer not to have to follow right after him, but he doesn’t know any other way out. "We’re done here."

​"What a charming pair they make," he overhears the king saying to his daughter as the door swings shut behind them, leaving Vogrid and Bongo behind to face the remnants of a fractured family dinner.

​"... Oh, and whose fault is that ?"

​"Wow, Khobi, not many people would storm out of a dinner with the King –" Binny starts to say, but Khobi’s attention is on the figure already some distance down the hall.

​" Hey ." He didn’t expect Loac to stop, but he does, glancing back at the sound of his voice.

"I didn’t need your help back there." Blue eyes narrow, matching Khobi’s irritation beat for beat.

​"Who says I was helping you?" he scoffs, and that just makes Khobi more annoyed.

​"Don’t be a dumbass ," he snaps back, and Loac seems appropriately baffled by the childish insult, "Anyone could see you were trying to take the fall."

​Which was clearly what he was doing. Because at the end of the day, it was as much his fault as Loac’s.

Probably more, if anything, because Khobi definitely pushed him first. It would’ve been easy for Loac to say just that; could’ve given Gurdet an excuse to just throw him in a dungeon like the nobles wanted and toss away the key.

​But he didn’t.

​Loac can deny butting in all he likes, but he’s sure that’s what that was.

​What he’s not sure of is why .

​"You’re telling me you wanted to go back to the tower?" Loac snorts back darkly, which isn’t quite the reaction Khobi was expecting, "...Or get chucked in a cell?"

​It’s like he’s read his mind. Which is weird, because while it’s common knowledge among the soldiers that Khobi’s freedom hangs by a very thin thread, liable to snipped at the king’s whim, he’s certain he’s never mentioned such specifics to Loac.

​Unfortunately, Loac misinterprets his silence.

​"...That’s what I thought," he drawls; the condescending tone rankling him, " You’re welcome ."

​"What did I just say?" Khobi growls, shouldering him and giving him a withering look as he storms past, "I didn’t need your help. So don’t go thinking you’ve done me a favour."

The last thing he wants is for someone like Loac thinking he owes him anything.

Because he doesn’t.

​"You should make me some of that bread." His words, called out from a pace behind him, make Khobi stop.

Because surely he’s heard that wrong. But judging from the equally baffled expression Binny’s wearing when he glances down at him, they’ve heard the same thing.

​"The stuff with the meat in it," Loac adds, when Khobi turns to stare at him, jaw slack.

As if that’s what he’s confused about.

​" Hah ?" The absolute nerve of this guy. "You can’t be serious ."

​He looks serious. Annoyed, even.

​"I hardly got any yesterday."

​It’s a good thing he’s beyond arm’s reach, because if he’d been a step closer Khobi probably would’ve punched him.

It doesn’t escape his notice that Binny –wisely –slides forwards to position himself loosely between them.

He’s slippery, but Khobi’s pretty sure he could get around him if he tried.

​"Yeah, because they weren’t for you!" he complains hotly.

Loac considers this for all of two seconds before he makes a counteroffer.

​"...I’ll race you for em, then," he decides, like it’s that simple, and rolls a crack out of his neck.

​" What ?"