Chapter 381: Uncle.

Chapter 381: Chapter 381: Uncle.

​A hand comes down on his shoulder, and it’s only then that Khobi realises that he’s shaking.

Bongo just gives him a light squeeze, and doesn’t say a word. Letting out a low breath, Khobi finally tears his eyes away from the scrap of paper in his hands to find Gurdet watching him closely.

He hadn’t paid enough attention as a child to recognise whether this is his uncle’s handwriting, but that ring is the one he remembers, and somehow it feels like him.

​"...Can I send one back?" Khobi ventures hoarsely, his fingers pinching into the paper so tight it threatens to tear.

"A message?"

​His question gives Gurdet pause, and he mulls over this question long and hard. And for once Khobi holds his tongue while he thinks, because he knows that Gurdet doesn’t exactly like him, and he’s kept his promise and owes him nothing more, but it has just occurred to him that all this time his uncle may have never known for sure that he was still alive, either, and had kept on believing, the same way Khobi had.

​That he might be waiting just as desperately for eight little words from him.

​Eventually, Gurdet sighs. "...Keep it brief."

​Khobi’s never cried in front of a king that wasn’t his uncle, but today might just be the day.

​Somewhat hysterically he realises that for as much as he’s always dreamed of being able to reach out to his uncle –to have the chance to relay a message to him, and for all the time he’s had to come up with something –he has absolutely no idea what to say.

​Keep it brief ?

​How can he possibly keep it brief? Years have passed, and there he has so many questions for them; so many things to say .

So many things that he wants to tell them both. Not about Briyagi –he’s not wasting the few precious words he’s been given on that place –about here .

That he won a tournament like a soldier and gets to train like one, and that he hasn’t forgotten what they taught him. That he rode a horse, and went to a tavern, and that he’s been eating well.

​That he’s made friends, and met the most incredible swordsman.

​That as much as he hated it to begin with, Crade feels safe.

​"Tell him..." Khobi sucks in a low breath, because where does he even start, after all this time? He wants to tell him everything. It’s not enough enough words. Is this how Khojin Frost had felt too; being permitted to reach out to him only to be overwhelmed by all the things he could say and not having nearly enough words to say it all?

"Tell them I’m okay, and that I hope they’re safe. And that I miss them too."

​It’s not nearly enough. But the rest can wait until he sees them again.

Gurdet smiles at that. And it’s weird in that it doesn’t feel in the least bit sinister.

​In fact, it almost feels real .

​"...I’ll make sure he gets the message," he assures him, and it’s strange but without even having to glance to Bongo, Khobi believes him.

And if someone had told him all those months ago that one day he would find himself feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards this man, he never would have believed that, either.

​"...Thanks," he says quietly, folding up the scrap of paper with those eight little words as he turns back towards the staircase.

Neither of them make to stop him so he takes that as a sign it’s fine for him to keep it. And then he surprises all of them by dipping his head.

Not deep, and not for long, but a dip nonetheless. "...Your Majesty."

​"You’re welcome," Gurdet replies, sounding genuinely bewildered at not just having been thanked, but addressed by the appropriate title.

"You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, Khobi Frost?"

​He’s not sure what that’s supposed to mean, but it makes Bongo chuckle so he decides not to take it as a bad thing.

​"...And it goes without saying but just for my own sanity I’m going to say it anyways," the king adds dryly, "...As you can imagine this is not something I wish for the entire castle to know about.

Word spreads rather fast here as I’m sure you’re well aware, and the fewer who know, the better."

​"I get it," Khobi assures him quickly. If he’s been able to find his uncle, then there’s a chance Silas can, too.

​" Good ."

​And while he clearly considers the matter closed, Khobi has one more question for him.

​"...Does he know I’m here?"

​Because if he does, then...

​Gurdet tuts at him, chuckling lightly to himself, like the fact that he’s even asked such a thing both predictable and amusing.

"Perhaps," he concedes with a small shrug, "And perhaps not. I’m sure even you can understand why it would be in my best interest for him not to know."

He chuckles again, having deftly cut Khobi off before he can bite his head off. "...We wouldn’t want him trying to storm my castle and ruin a very expensive and important political wedding, would we?"

​"...Yeah, we wouldn’t want that," Khobi mutters back –more on reflex than anything else –then abruptly grinds his teeth shut when Bongo gives him that look –the one that tells him to quit while he’s ahead.

​Gurdet’s smile widens.

It’s back to being unsettling, which is almost a relief in itself. " That’s the spirit."

​" –Don’t worry, Khobi," Bongo interjects, giving him another one of those reassuring nods, "I’m sure you’ll hear from him again before too long."

Bongo’s always had an uncanny way of diffusing a situation, and some of the tension starts to bleed away from Khobi’s jaw.

Swallowing, he reaches up to press a hand against that little scrap of paper tucked away where it’ll be safe.

It’s so small he can’t even feel it through his clothes but just knowing it’s there, that he’s held it in his hands as Khojin Frost did brings a lightness to his chest and a soft, incredulous smile to his lips.

Because they’re really out there; they’re alive, and they’re thinking of him.

Maybe they know where he is and maybe they don’t, but the king’s promised to get them a message, and when it reaches him –when he knows his own words reached his nephew a world away –Khobi’s sure that he’ll find his way here.

One way or another.

​I’ll find you.

​"But in the meantime," Bongo adds, gesturing meaningfully towards the stairs, "Don’t you have training to get to?"

​...

​"Ah, and here I was thinking he might call me Uncle ," Gurdet laments melodramatically once Khobi’s beyond earshot.

And while Bongo’s fairly certain this is one of those times his king is making a joke, sometimes it’s hard to know for sure.

He pats him on the shoulder anyways.

​"...Baby steps, Your Majesty."