Chapter 302: Like Mother Like Son.

Chapter 302: Chapter 302: Like Mother Like Son.

​" Good morning !" The princess chimes brightly, even though they’re the only ones in the corridor, and it takes Khobi a moment to process that she’s speaking to the painting .

Confused, he watches her lift her arm;

looped through Loac’s as if to present him to the painting, "Look who’s with me today; we’re on our way to the training grounds together! Isn’t that wonderful?" She tugs on her cousin’s arm, and then urges, as he rolls his eyes, " Loac , be polite!"

​Loac sighs with his whole body, which is kind of the opposite of what the princess had been going for

. But for whatever reason, he relents; jaw set in a petulant pout.

​"...Hey, ma."

​Huh.

​Ma ?

​"...Wait, that’s your mom ?" Khobi remarks in surprise, and immediately takes a second, harder look at the painting.

Instantly he sees it, and can’t believe that there had been a moment when he hadn’t.

The colour’s obviously all wrong; she has the same pink hair as her sister –obviously, so obviously Xena’s mother –but they share the same face, and although hers are dark pink instead of blue the depth in their eyes is the exact same, and it suddenly makes sense why the the superior smirk she’s wearing looks so familiar.

"She’s pretty," he adds, without thinking, because she is.

Not pretty like a flower, though. More like how a thunderstorm blowing in across the mountains is pretty in its own fierce, ominous kind of way, as long as you’re safe inside, away from the rain.

​(Makes sense.)

​The princess giggles.

​"You hear that, Auntie?" she chirps conspiratorially, peeking up at the painting like she’s sharing a secret, "Khobi thinks you’re pretty."

Khobi cringes at the nickname.

Great, another one. Possibly even worse.

​" Xena !" Loac whines , like a goddamned kid . It feels like the wrong time to laugh so Khobi bites the inside of his cheek to try and hold it in.

A snort makes it out anyway, and earns him two glares; one hot and blue and one cool and green.

​"What?" she sniffs, unapologetic, and gives him a reproachful look, "Ladies like being told they’re pretty every once in a while, and you’d do well to remember it."

She turns back to the painting, shaking her head. "Sorry Auntie, Loac seems to have forgotten his manners,"

she adds, and covertly gestures for Khobi to come join her. Loac counters with one that tells him not to.

​Obstinately, Khobi takes a step forward and is pretty sure he hears Loac cluck his teeth about it.

​"Mama, Auntie, this is Khobi Frost," Xena says brightly, giving him a reassuring smile, "He’s the one I’ve been telling you about."

​Khobi looks up at the painting and the two silent women within staring down at him, and then back at the princess; uncertain about what exactly she wants from him.

​...Is he supposed to bow, or something?

​"...Uh, hi?" Khobi isn’t sure exactly what he’s supposed to do, or say, or even how he’s meant to address the dead queen and her sister, but the moment he steps forward he gets the uncanny sense that he’s being scrutinised and he finds himself hurriedly dipping his head, "It’s...nice to...meet you?"

He feels really, really dumb, but the princess looks quite thrilled.

Loac, not so much; where Xena is gazing quite merrily up at her mother, he’s quite obstinately doing the opposite.

​"Don’t worry," she chimes airily, like there’s some sort of conversation going on that Khobi isn’t privy to, "He’s not as scary as he looks. And don’t give me that look, Loac, you weren’t going to introduce him."

Khobi doesn’t quite catch what exactly he says because he’s not listening; gaze inexplicably fixed on the women in the painting, but figures it’s some rebuff if the princess’ loud, " Loac , he’s your betrothed.

It’s only proper!" Is anything to go by.

​"So you’ve introduced Montrel , then?" He shoots back, and the princess’ cheeks immediately flames.

​"Th-that’s different," she stammers, awkwardly smoothing down her skirts. "Mama knows Montrel."

​"Does she know you’re dating him?" Loac snorts, and it’s the princess’ turn to look politely scandalised as he leans past her to make an attempt on the bread basket while Khobi’s busy staring up at the painting.

Without missing a beat, Khobi automatically shifts the basket to his other side before he even gets close.

Loac makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat, and then shoots a furtive look up at the painting as if he’s checking to see if the women staring back at them have seen.

​Which is impossible. It’s just a painting.

​And yet. It really, seriously feels like this is more window than canvas; that just beyond the frame there are two women watching them and at any minute they’re just going to walk towards him and through and they’ll be standing there right before them.

​"Hey, let’s go," Loac grumbles, elbowing him to get him moving again, but Khobi remains rooted to the spot.

At first glance, Loac’s mother looks like a scary woman. And the longer he looks, the more sure of that he becomes, although not in the traditional sense of the word.

She seems more fierce, he thinks.

Kind of like his aunt. How the painter got her eyes to shine the way they do, and soften when the light hits them a certain way, he has no idea.

​He turns to look at Loac, deep in thought.

​"What?" Loac demands, still pouting.

Khobi’s kind of lost track over what.

​Yeah, he really sees it.

​"You look a lot like her," Khobi decides, hefting the basket a little higher to get a better grip on it.

And while he didn’t really mean anything by it, there’s a moment there where Loac’s eyes flit wide with surprise.

The princess’ too. But just as quickly it fades; so fleeting that Khobi has to wonder if he imagined it.

​"...You think so?" Loac mumbles, and the small, soft smile that the words ignite on his lips and in his eyes isn’t one Khobi’s ever seen before.

There seem to be quite a few of those.

A concerning amount, even. And then, just as abruptly as it had appeared it dims, and his brow pinches as he adds, "...Most people say I look like my old man."

​For some reason, the way he says that makes Khobi’s gut twist in a way it never really has before, and he’s not sure why.

​That’s a weird feeling, too. He doesn’t like it.

​Not one bit.