Chapter 4: Servant And Royalty.

Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Servant And Royalty.

Of course he’d tried to run.

"Tch..." Khobi scoffed bitterly, gritting his teeth, "What was I supposed to do? I didn’t know what they were going to do to me..." He threw back the blankets weighing him down and his face curled up in disdain at the sight of his muddy, torn clothes –although someone had at least had the courtesy to bind the cuts on his feet.

"Wait," the man snickered in disbelief, "You’re telling me you don’t know why you’re here?"

"Like that bastard Xoca would tell me anything," Khobi growled, clenching his fists angrily and being satisfied with the strength he seemed to have regained somewhat. He wondered where this room was, was it high up? His limbs were cramped and aching but he knew they could take more of a battering if necessary. The servant looked small,he was sure he could easily overwhelm him, and the door didn’t look to be locked. Would there be a guard?

To hell if there was. There was no way he was sitting around here long enough to find out what these fucking kings had planned for him, especially if Silas was involved. He wasn’t about to have this place be Briyagi all over again.

"...And the guy with the crown said he was gonna do worse than kill me..."

The man had the gall to laugh.

Red eyes flashed angrily, and he glared up at the servant who was leaning on the water pump and wiping away an imaginary tear of mirth. Such a look didn’t seem to phase him in the slightest.

"Well, I guess that’s one way of looking at it, m’lord," he chuckled, trying to stifle his laughter as he began lugging the brimming bucket back towards the tub, "And, if you’re thinking about going for the window, we’re three floors up and it’s a stone courtyard down there." Khobi averted his eyes with a mumbled curse, had his thoughts really been so transparent? "Also," the servant added, with a sidelong glance, "For the record, the ’guy with the crown’ is King Gurdet, of Crade."

Khobi blinked. Crade? Where the fuck was Crade?

Apparently he didn’t hide his confusion all that well, because the guy was snickering at him again!

"You have no idea where you are, do you, m’lord?" he snorted, shaking his head . "Wait, wait, let me get this straight...you have no idea where you are, or why you’re here, and you still tried to make a break for it?"

"It’s better than being locked up," Khobi muttered, and was suddenly struck by the fact that he had no idea who this man was, and that he seemed to be mocking him. "Anyway, who the hell are you? What do you know?"

"Hmm?" the servant remarked innocently, though Khobi distrusted how his tone seemed so different from the sharpness of his eyes, "Me? I’m just a servant, m’lord. And we know everything." Khobi just glared at him, what kind of a fucking answer was that? Almost as if sensing his annoyance, the man laughed airily, once more.

"Binny, Binny Sun," he introduced, finally, "At your service." There was a heavy thunk as he rested his full bucket on the rim of the tub.

"What are you doing?" Khobi grumbled, finally getting irritated by the other man’s constant pacing across the room. He swung his legs down off the bed and tested them tentatively on the stone floor. His feet stung, and his calves didn’t seem to want to take his weight, but he’d make them.

"I’m uhh...preparing a bath...m’lord," he replied with a slight chuckle, as though it should be obvious, an eyebrow raised in such a way that Khobi feel as though he was being made fun of. This Binny guy was taking him lightly, probably thinking that because he looked injured, he was beyond moving.

"Why are you calling me that?" he growled, dusting some dried mud off his pants and seeing yet another rip that had been caked shut. The empty bucket clattered to the floor.

"Calling you what, m’lord?" His tone was innocent and undeniably mocking.

"That. I’m no lord."

"What would you prefer me call you?" Binny seemed to be enjoying this, "Your Highness? Your Grace? Sir? Prince Khobi? You are a prince, after all."

"I’m not a prince," Khobi scoffed, his jaw clenching and a lump threatening to rise in his throat.

"Well, you’re probably the first prince to ever say that, m’lord."

"Don’t call me that."

"...You’re also probably the first prince to ever say that, too," Binny remarked playfully, causing a vein to twitch in Khobi’s forehead.

His legs burned as he shifted his weight onto them and managed to stand, even if he swayed a little. He didn’t seem to be doing anything out of the ordinary,just mopping up some of the water he’d spilled in his trips between the water pump and the tub. He was humming again, that song that Khobii swore he knew.

He appeared to be paying him no mind, the mop moving to and fro to the tune of the song. Khobi began limping forwards, each step growing steadier, as he was accustomed to. He could go for the door, but he had no doubt that would go well if he didn’t make plans to keep this guy quiet, the servant was making the terrible mistake of turning his back.

If he could just....

"Fuck!" Khobi swore, champing his teeth down hard, his eyes watering in pain as the blunt end of the mop abruptly connected with his gut, driving in much harder than he’d expected and winding him. He doubled over with a gasp, his abdomen obviously more tender and bruised than he’d anticipated. "What the fuck –"

"Oh, I’m sorry; I didn’t see you there," Binny inquired lightly, drawing the mop back and glancing over his shoulder. "How clumsy of me. But you really shouldn’t be out of bed." His expression was almost apologetic, and Khobi might have bought it, had the bottom half of the mop not suddenly connected with a particularly tender patch of shin.

"That was on purpose!" He growled aggressively, lunging forwards and aiming to snatch the servant up by the collar of his tunic. But the man was faster than he’d expected, and side stepped him so expertly that it seemed almost accidental that he’d avoided capture.

"Of course not," Binny assured him, apparently shocked by the accusation, "I’m but a humble servant, after all, I just do what I’m told." And yet, he was still shifting in a manner that Khobi was finding most suspicious. There was something in his eyes, too, a kind of sharpness that he’d seen in the faces of some of the servants at Briyagi, and distrusted.

"And what if I told you to let me leave?" eyeing up the mop that the servant was holding lightly in one hand. He was slippery, but he figured it wouldn’t be difficult to physically overpower him.

For a moment, Binny seemed to seriously consider his question, his face curled up into a most thoughtful expression. And then, much faster, and with more force than Khobi could ever have expected of this man, the mop connected with the bruised side of his knee. It wasn’t the worst blunt pain he’d ever dealt with, but all the same, his knee buckled against his will and he stumbled.

"I’m afraid I couldn’t do such a thing..." came the light hearted, almost genuinely apologetic reply, as Khobi staggered, off balance.

" –I-is this how you treat a-all princes?" Khobi groaned through gritted teeth, trying to lunge forwards again but his knee deciding against co-operating and buckling again as a prickling sensation coursed up his leg. Realising too late that the backs of his thighs had connected with the edge of the tub.

"Well, you did say you weren’t a prince, didn’t you?"

Eyes clamped shut Khobi tensed, waiting for that breath-stealing impact.

The splash he made as he disappeared under the water was astounding. Within an instant, it grew murky, dried mud and blood being torn off Khobi’s body and clothes as the water rose up and spilled over the lip of the tub. And after a long moment of being submerged, he broke the surface with a startled gasp.

In all his years as a servant, Binny could honestly say that he had never seen a grown man looking so bewildered. Rumours circulating through the servant grapevine had piqued his interest about what kind of man Crade’s newest guest was, so he’d been prepared for retaliation to his somewhat wicked methods, or worse...but it didn’t seem like any kind of expected violence was forthcoming.

This Khobi man, he was just sitting there, his eyes wide and confused and staring down into the dirtying water almost in disbelief. Binny cocked his head, observing the way he cupped his hands and splashed some up into his face. Apparently that had confirmed something, because he looked up and caught Binny’s gaze, almost as though there was something about the concept of a bath he didn’t quite understand.

"...It’s warm?" he queried hoarsely, soft with wonder. Binny was helpless to stop one of his eyebrows from quirking up in amusement."Of course it’s warm," he confirmed; why the hell wouldn’t it be? "Why would I prepare you a cold bath?" For a moment, he could’ve sworn there was something hangdog in Khobi’s expression, but it was gone in an instant.

"Oh, just relax, will you?" Binny sighed with a roll of his eyes, to try and shepherd him towards the option that wouldn’t result in his bodily harm, "Get that filth off you, maybe? I went to the trouble of preparing the bath, you might as well make the most of it."

His exasperation quickly turned to amusement as Khobi ran a hand through his drenched hair and grimaced as his hand came away running with mud. "...I’d help...but I feel like you might try and drown me."It kind of looked like Khobi didn’t see that as a half bad idea. His shoulders sagged as he plunged his head down under the water again.

Binny leaned heavily on his mop, watching as Khobi’s clothes billowed out below the surface, being rinsed of their grime. And as he watched him scrubbing at his hair, the servant couldn’t help but be a little bit startled as the dirt washed away to reveal a mane of shocking red hair.

Who would’ve guessed? How many layers of mud had that guy been carrying?? Again, Khobi broke the surface, breathing the air in deeply and tossing his wet locks. He was a scary man, Binny had to admit, at least while he was awake.

Asleep, he looked smaller, more vulnerable, though he’d realised quite a while ago that that was true for most soldiers, too. In this bath though, he looked a little more docile, even if not quite at ease. He didn’t blame him though, getting half-drowned, dragged to a new kingdom and then knocked out rather forcefully wasn’t a recipe for a happy prince.

He was in need of a haircut, maybe a shave, and probably some soap, but he was even already looking considerably less like a barbarian, though the guy kept peering at his skin as though it was the first time he’d really seen it in a long time.It really made you wonder.

He’d been quick to recover, too. Binny had gotten a glance at those bruises when he’d been cleaning and tending to the worst of the injuries during Khobi’s bout of unconsciousness, and he was pretty sure that they would have had a lot of men groaning and aching. But this guy...he’d gotten to his feet almost like it was nothing, might have not even been able to catch him, had he been any less wounded.

"I’ll get some new clothes sent in for you," he commented politely, "Jeez, I know beggars dressed better than you." Khobi glanced his way and seemed angered by the insult, but at least didn’t seem like he was about to come jumping out of the bath. Those cuts looked like they stung, and at least . He did feel a little bad for probably aggravating those injuries...but maybe now the guy would at least think twice about trying to get the jump on him the next time he tried to escape.And Binny had the feeling there was definitely going to be a next time.