Chapter 255 - 253: Get It

Chapter 255: Chapter 253: Get It

The fact that Khobi and Loac are squabbling like children again is a convenient excuse for Rogard to make a beeline for Drogger’s table.

And from the look that Jaga gives him; strategically placed between the two of them so that Khobi can’t throttle Loac for claiming more than what he’s owed of his lunch, and so that Loac can’t steal any more, he’s made the right choice.

​(Loac was the one that said that Rogard had changed, but he’s different, too.)

​"Ynoro-master, good afternoon!" he chirps brightly, as he approaches the table where some of the more senior soldiers are gathered.

They don’t always eat here with the rest of the rabble, but it’s a bitter day out and the mess hall is always warm and lively. Even with Loac here.

The vast majority of soldiers still aren’t completely at ease around him –and Rogard gets that; even if he wasn’t as formidable of a swordsman as he is, he still their prince –but at the very least they respect what he can do with a sword, and they no longer stare or lower their voices when he enters the room.

​"Always a pleasure, Rogard," Ynoro replies easily.

​"Do you mind if I sit with you?" Rogard jerks a thumb behind him towards his usual table, where Loac and Khobi are being ridiculous, and it’s testimony to how accustomed they’re growing to their prince’s presence among them that a couple of the men at the table chuckle, despite themselves.

​"Go ahead," Ynoro replies easily, gesturing for him to help himself to a spare seat.

Rogard thinks it’s very restrained of him that he doesn’t move to sit next to Drogger.

​But he’s not so restrained that he doesn’t stretch out to brush their legs together under the table.

Drogger stiffens infinitesimally, and shoots him a quick look telling him to behave himself.

Rogard wishes he doesn’t have to. That he doesn’t have to deliberately create space between them.

​It’s hard being like this. It hasn’t even been that long but the excitement of having a scandalous secret is starting to wear off, and Rogard is already starting to long to be able to be with Drogger as freely in public as he can when they’re alone.

Is it so wrong to want to be able to show off the person he likes?

​Not to mention that Gandy still has a bee in his bonnet about who Rogard’s sneaking off to, and it would be so great to be able to flaunt that the person he’s sneaking around with is the Captain.

​He can just imagine the looks on their faces.

​Rogard’s had a lot of flings in his time. A few relationships too, if they can really be called that, but he’d never felt like any of them the way he feels about Drogger.

And even if he did, he’d never had anyone to share that with.

​And now that he does, he can’t.

​The thought makes him glance back at his usual table, to where Khobi is doing his best to defend what’s left of his lunch.

And not just from Loac; Montrel and Gandy seem to have a vested in whatever’s left on his plate.

He doesn’t think any of them would tell, but he knows how things have a way of getting out.

As if feeling his gaze, Khobi quits shoving Loac just long enough to raise an eyebrow back at him, then grimaces when Rogard pulls a face at him .

​It’s a shame, but he’ll settle for this now.

​It’s only later, when he and Drogger are finally the last two seated at the table, that Rogard speaks.

It hadn’t escaped his noticed that Drogger had been playing with his food, so he’d deliberately eaten slower than the rest so that he had an excuse to linger back.

​"Hey master," he greets. It’s the first time they’ve directly spoken for the whole meal. Not that Rogard hadn’t wanted to.

He’d wanted to tell him about his day; about the dumb two-on-one he and Gandy had had against Khobi today, and how Jaga had broken the fence by throwing Montrel into it.

But he doesn’t trust his voice around the others not to give too much away.

​"Rogard." When they’re in company, Drogger always talks to him like this; short, and simple. Rogard wonders if it’s because he also doesn’t trust himself.

​"Can I come to your office this evening?" Rogard queries. It’s a perfectly innocent question. And a completely reasonable request.

​"You’ve been doing that a lot," Drogger reminds him, voice low. It sounds a lot more like a you probably shouldn’t , than Rogard was hoping to hear, and it makes him pout.

​"You never seem to mind," he points out in a mumble, fiddling with his food.

And maybe it’s not fair of him to ask here, like this, especially when he’s been thinking what he’s been thinking and feeling what he’s been feeling, but the words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them.

"You’re not...having second thoughts, are you?" Drogger’s eyes widen slightly, and he covertly looks both ways before giving him a strange look.

​"...What would make you think that?" he inquires softly, and Rogard dodges his gaze. And his question.

​"It was just a question," he fibs, and there’s long-suffering softness in Drogger’s expression as he gives him a measured look.

​"It’s never just a question with you," he states flatly, "So what gives?"

​Rogard sighs. He hadn’t meant to bring this up. And not here.

But he’s gone and done it. Because sometimes his thoughts run away on him.

​"I just...wish it didn’t need to be like this."

​"I know," Drogger heaves, like he really does, "But like I said –"

​"I know, I know, my father ," Rogard rolls his eyes dramatically, because that’s what it always is. "I just wish it didn’t matter what he thought."

​And not just about this.

​He doesn’t say that, but Drogger seems to hear it anyway.

​"So you get it."

​"I get it."