Chapter 251 - 249: Kitchen Ruccus.

Chapter 251: Chapter 249: Kitchen Ruccus.

Once he manages to right himself he realises that it’s Binny’s sister who’s addressed him.

He hadn’t even noticed her down here this morning, and he wonders how they always manage to turn up when he least expects it.

The servants here are just so goddamned sneaky!

​Particularly these two.

​Or maybe he’s just getting complacent.

​Possibly both.

​"Sure, go ahead," Khobi replies offhandedly. He likes Binny’s sister.

Much like her brother she’s one of the servants who doesn’t seem to mind speaking with him like a normal person.

He goes for a sip of his ale and promptly chokes on it as her words sink in, "And I’m not his master , ugh. Fuck, don’t tell me he still calls me that."

​"Only when you can’t hear."

​Khobi wonders wryly, if she knows how similar she is to her brother.

​She also passes on the message that apparently some of the cooks have been inspired by the smells of whatever it was that he’d cooked the other day and while they haven’t said it in so many words –what was it about old cooks being gruff and cantankerous –she knows they’re itching to pick his brain.

What with training being less frequent he’s sure he’ll be back down in the kitchens in the coming days, and he finds himself quite looking forward to it.

The cooks know their stuff, and he learns as much from them as they from him, and it’ll be good to have something to fill his day.

​Training with the soldiers is his favoured way of spending his time, but he has to admit that it’s kind of nice to have something else to look forward to.

​Suddenly feeling eyes on him, he turns and locks eyes across the bench with Loac.

​"What’re you looking at?" Khobi snorts, automatically annoyed even before he even gives him the chance to speak.

​"...Help me make em properly."

​For a second there Khobi’s sure he’s misheard.

​"What?" he baulks, unable to imagine why Loac would subject himself to a second attempt when his first had been so abysmal.

Especially with him. " Why ?" Loac just glares at him impatiently.

​"Will you do it or not?" he demands, which isn’t even a little bit of an answer, and pretty rude considering that he’s asking for a favour.

Or demanding, rather. Khobi will be the first to admit his own manners aren’t exactly fit for a castle, but Loac’s in a league all his own.

And he’s on the verge of telling him to fuck right off just on principle, when it occurs to him that it’s not every day Loac asks him for help.

​In fact, this might just be the first time. That irregularity alone is just enough to make him pause; enough that he even considers agreeing to it.

​What’s the harm?

​"... Fine ," he finally relents, dragging out the word like Loac’s massively inconveniencing him when in reality he’s hungry and was probably going to make a snack anyways.

For all the drama, the recipe itself didn’t sound all that hard and he reckons he can remember it well enough to make a decent go of it.

Better than whatever Loac had made, at least. And with training still on hold it’s not like he has anything better to do.

​" But you owe me one ," he makes sure to add as he clambers to his feet, because he’ll be damned if he’s letting Loac get any more fucking freebies from him.

​" Whatever ."

​Predictably, Khobi does most of the legwork. He doesn’t necessarily mind though; he likes cooking, and he likes when his food actually tastes good.

Not to mention that he’s got a reputation to maintain in these parts.

​Loac is as much of a pain in the ass as he usually is.

More even this time: for having asked for his help, he seems to be doing his absolute best to get in his way at every turn.

And for someone who intuitively knows where and how he’ll move when they’re facing off against each other, he’s somehow always exactly where Khobi wants to be, or in front of exactly what he wants, and it eventually gets to the point where he has to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose.

​"That looks good," Loac remarks conversationally, leaning over Khobi’s shoulder to admire the finished batter and getting elbowed for getting too close for the dozenth time.

Without warning, he scoops some up on a couple of fingers and sticks it straight in his mouth, humming appreciatively as he obnoxiously licks them clean.

​It’s not distracting. At all.

​It’s a coincidence that Khobi reaches for his drink.

​"S’good," Loac states around his fingers, sucking them out of his mouth with an obscene pop and immediately reaching for more.

He manages to scoop up a second helping before Khobi snaps to and shoves him, because that’s gross , and if he keeps it up there’ll be none left.

It’s a little embarrassing that he didn’t react in time to stop him.

​"Get your hands out of there!" Khobi gripes crossly, shifting the bowl away so he can’t try for a third.

​" What ? You should try some," Loac just smirks in response, expression taking on a devious lilt, and Khobi instinctively puts some space between them before he gets any ideas about smearing anything on his face.

​Or mouth.

​He’s glad the fires are right there, because it’s easy for him to blame them for the sudden heat in his face.

​"I’ll have some when it’s cooked," he tells him flatly, "Like a normal person!"

​"...Hmm, your loss," Loac shrugs, and Khobi deliberately busies himself with preparing a pan so he has an excuse to turn his back on him.

Thankfully, this batch turn out delicious, and for people so used to the smell of baking honeycakes the scent still sets the servants drooling as it fills the kitchen.

There’s plenty to go around, so Khobi makes sure to set aside a couple of the finished honeycakes for Binny, as payment (and an apology) for the trauma he’d endured this morning. He adds a couple extra for his sister, too.