Chapter 353: Comapny.

Chapter 353: Chapter 353: Comapny.

Khobi had forgotten how boring it was being locked up.

​" Uggggh ," he groans, flopping down on the bed melodramatically after completing what feels like his thousandth set of push-ups. Barely no time’s passed at all and already he’s bored senseless.

​"How do you think we feel?" Gandy heaves through the door. "We’re stuck out here guarding your dumb ass when we could be doing literally anything else."

​"Wow, that must suck for you," Khobi hollers back, staring blankly up at the roof. He can’t even remember what he used to spend all his time doing the last time he was locked up like this.

​Trying to get out, probably.

That feels kind of pointless, now. And he’s pretty sure that given the stiffness in his limbs and how much effort it had taken to get the room looking respectable again, even if he did manage to break down the door, Gandy and Montrel would get him on the ground without too much trouble.

They’d probably enjoy it, too. And they’re probably armed. Just in case. There’s always the knife under his pillow, but...

​Khobi tosses that thought aside immediately.

​There’s no way he’d do something like that. Not now. Not to them.

He’s pissed that he’s back to being locked up, but not that pissed. And he has only himself to blame, this time. Maybe Loac, for offering, but mostly himself, for just thoughtlessly accepting. Maybe whoever had snitched.

But that could have been anyone.

Or dozens of people. Loac’s horse is pretty distinctive, and their arrival back within the castle walls hadn’t been particularly subtle either.

​Dammit, maybe he should’ve just left when he had the chance. Screw the mountains and the forests; Loac clearly knew them.

Well enough to know his way to that place with no map and no trail and anything recognisable obscured by snow.

Well enough to hide in them, maybe.

​...Maybe if he’d only asked, he would have -- 𝘧𝓇ℯℴ𝓂

​Something suddenly slips under the door, skidding along the stone and stopping that stray, strange thought dead in its tracks.

Khobi lifts his head from where he’s been blankly staring up at the ceiling and turns his attention to the floor.

​It’s a hand of cards. Face down.

​"...If you’re not gonna play, can you give my cards back?" Gandy states dryly, after a drawn out moment silence, "It’s a new set."

​"...I don’t have anything to bet with," Khobi reminds them reproachfully, and after another beat of silence, a couple of gold comes sliding through the gap under the door.

With a snort, he rolls to the edge of the bed, hissing under his breath for treating his twinging body so carelessly. "Fine, but you two better not cheat."

​"Us? Cheat?" Gandy snickers.

​"Well yeah, Montrel would never win otherwise," Khobi reminds him easily.

​"Hey, if you’re gonna be like that, I’ll have my gold back!" Montrel complains, and Khobi resists the urge to stamp lightly on his fingers as they appear under the door, trying to fish his gold back.

​"If you want it back you can damn well win it back fair and square," Khobi declares, depositing himself down on the stone near the door with a light and hopefully unsuspicious groan.

It takes an inordinate amount of time to get comfortable and he quickly comes to regret not grabbing a couple of pillows, but he’s already on the floor now, and it’s gonna be way worse trying to get up again to get them.

​It’s not ideal, but it’ll have to do.

​...

​"Hey, so I’m not allowed out, right?" Khobi remarks casually, several hands in and a small pile of gold sitting next to him. Mostly Montrel’s.

​"We established that," Gandy snorts, and a fresh hand of cards comes sliding underneath the door.

​"Are you allowed in?" Khobi inquires, because there’s actually a table and a couple of chairs in here and sitting on the floor is doing him no favours.

The stone’s stupid hard at the best of times –he should know, he slept on it for how long –but considering the current state of his body, it’s starting to get seriously uncomfortable.

​He should’ve just sucked it up and gotten the damn pillows.

​There’s silence from the other side of the door. Followed by some hushed whispers.

​"... Huh ," Montrel remarks thoughtfully, like this was a loophole they hadn’t even considered. "...I...guess so?"

​"So come in," Khobi states, already collecting up his gold and staggering to his feet. If he’s quick about it, he can get himself nice and comfy before they make it in and they’ll never have to see how bad he’s moving.

That’s what had always given Rogard away, after all. "Dunno about you guys but sitting on the ground’s making my ass hurt."

​(That, and other reasons.)

​It’s believable enough though, and he can tell they’re both thinking about it. This game involves trading cards and so they must be sitting on the ground too, and hating it.

Probably not as much as him, but enough that the prospect of moving back to a proper table sounds tempting.

​"...You’re not gonna make a break for it?" Montrel hazards, suspicious, and Khobi rolls his eyes.

There’s no way he’s running anywhere today, but they don’t need to know that.

Because then they’d ask why.

​" No ," he snorts derisively, "I’m not gonna make a break for it . Where would I even go?"

​"Wow, would’ve saved us a lot of time and energy if you’d figured that out back then," Montrel mutters.

"Fine, get away from the door," he adds; unnecessary in that Khobi’s already halfway across the room making damn sure that there’s absolutely nothing in sight that’s going to give away what he and Loac got up to in the night.

In his boredom he’d already straightened up the room, and if he pulls his furs up they sit nice and high on his neck, so as long as they don’t get in the bed, they should be none the wiser.

​And hopefully the fact that he’s been sitting on the floor for over an hour is enough to explain away why he’s so stiff.

​With the turn of a key the door swings open and Montrel strides on in with Gandy just a pace behind.

As expected, they’re both in uniform, and as unnecessary as it is for Gandy to lock the door behind them, Khobi gets it. He probably wouldn’t trust him, either.

​"Don’t tell me you cleaned up just for us," Montrel drawls, and Khobi feels a small flash of alarm that the room might just be suspiciously clean, but as he settles down at the table like this is something they do all the time it’s clear he didn’t mean anything by it.

Gandy, however, is looking at him very strangely as he drags the chest over towards the table since there are only two chairs.

​"What?" Khobi grinds out, and resists the urge to pull his furs tighter up around his throat, because that would be far too telling.