Chapter 79: Protection.

Chapter 79: Chapter 79: Protection.

Gurdet is dying for a cup of tea.

Actually, he’d love a glass of wine, but technically it’s only lunchtime, and Xena really loves to point out that it’s not really an appropriate hour for a king to start drinking. Personally , he thinks that kings should be able to start drinking whenever they damn well feel like it, but he’s certain she doesn’t see it like that.

"I don’t know about you, but I am exhausted ," he wholeheartedly declares as he sinks down into his favourite chair in his parlour. Xena deposits herself a little more delicately into the seat opposite him, looking politely pained at how carelessly he’s holding himself but refraining from saying anything. Which is kind of her, because he’s never in the mood to be lectured about decorum in his own private quarters.

"Oh, don’t be so melodramatic," she sighs, but Gurdet notices how grateful she is to accept a fresh cup of tea from Vogrid. "Besides, you invited them."

"I did, didn’t I?" he mutters, with an ounce of regret.

"Exactly, so no complaining," she sniffs, and the smile she graces him with is sickly sweet and serves as a reminder that he’s brought this on himself.

He’s not sure what she’s getting all high and mighty about, she’s had about as much fun this morning as he’s had.

She thought she was being so discrete, but he’d definitely caught her rolling her eyes more than once. It’s her own fault, really. She wouldn’t have so many people asking why she wasn’t married if she’d just get married already.

She doesn’t really like it when he points that out.

"...We’ve still got a busy day ahead," she reminds him, glancing up at the shadow looming behind him, "Isn’t that right, My Lord?"

"...Another three caravans have been spotted crossing the plains," says the voice from somewhere over Gurdet’s shoulder, which is not what he had been hoping to hear. "--At least one flies under the banner of Dragadra."

All he seemed to do in days of late was exchange pleasantries and make nice with the visiting foreign dignitaries. It was horribly dry. And he had had quite his fill of being told what a farce this marriage was, by noblemen and queens alike whose sons were secretly sneaking around with the Captains of their personal guards.

It was a surprisingly common worst kept secret. And thus little pleasure in dropping hints that he knew.

One could say a lot of terrible things about Silas Luminus, but he’d never been accused of being boring.

"I’ve taken the liberty of inviting His Royal Highness and his entourage to dinner," Xena chirps, looking exceptionally pleased with herself.

He’d be thrilled that his daughter was taking interest in a man, if she hadn’t already turned her nose up at the idea of marrying him. And all the wealth of his kingdom hadn’t been able enough to change her mind.

It was so difficult to have fathered a princess with such flowery notions of love.

She certainly didn’t get that from him.

Or her mother, for that matter.

"Ah, delightful," Gurdet remarks dryly, "You know how I love discussions about agriculture."

"I do, father, I really do."

She does have a few of his bad habits to make up for it, he supposes.

"It’s only proper," she lectures, like he, who has been quite successfully been ruling a kingdom since before she was born, doesn’t understand the meaning of the word.

"They’re our guests. Royal, too. I’m sure you’d have something to say about it if you were a guest in their kingdom and they didn’t extend you the appropriate courtesies."

Well, she’s right, but that’s hardly the point.

"Anyway, we don’t get so many guests very often. It’s nice, don’t you think?" she says conversationally,and he recognises it as talking for the sake of talking, "It’ll be nice to have so many at the dinner table for a change."

"So nice," he agrees vacantly, toying with his teacup. Perhaps, she’s hoping, with so many seats filled, it won’t be quite so obvious which one is empty.

Loac, even as a child, was never one to make a habit of eating with them --he was always off getting into trouble, or trying to get out of it --but he’s been joining them even less, these days.

Xena’s worried about him, bless her, but he’s given up on reminding her that Loac’s made it fairly clear that he doesn’t want, or need her prayers. It’s terrible,in most of the kingdoms this side of the sea, he’d be the one next in line for the throne, not her.

"I know this is meant to be a time for celebration, sweet daughter, but don’t let your guard down. Our castle is going to be rife with new faces, many of which I highly doubt we can trust."

He raises his tea to his lips and watches her expression over the rim. It’s clouding over. A good sign. A sign that she’s already considered this.

"Silas isn’t coming, is he?" she asks quietly.

"It’s regrettable, but snow came early to Briyagi," he confirms, showing no sign of the aforementioned regret, "His lands are too treacherous to cross at this time of year. So no, his household won’t be making the journey to Crade."

Xena inadvisably looks visibly relieved. If they weren’t in private he’d scold her for it, but he understands.

He’s fairly certain he knows where most of his guests’ allegiances lie when it comes to Briyagi, but he’s been surprised before, and he’d like to avoid turning his castle into a battleground, if at all possible.

"...But he’ll have men here," Xena infers, and he nods approvingly, "To report back back to him."

"Oh, I’d be surprised if he didn’t," he simpers, "He’s a real spider. He’ll want to make the most of the opportunity to infiltrate our home."

"And you’re going to let him?"

"Of course," he sniffs, rolling his eyes, "This marriage was always intended for forming an alliance, after all. It would be a show of bad faith to not let him stick his nose in."

He and Silas are playing a petty little game, after all. Silas is pretending to play along, and so is he. And so they’ll continue to do, until one of them slips up, and he does not intend for that to be him.

"I don’t trust him, father," she says firmly, expression so serious he almost laughs.

"Oh, neither do I," he assures her with a light, pleasant smile. She’s not going to like this. "And because I don’t, until our guests have departed, Vogrid here is going to accompany you wherever you go."

He’s not sure which of them looks the most openly displeased by this arrangement.

Gurdet ignores them both.

"...Post a guard outside her chambers, if you see fit," he adds, so they know he’s serious. Xena looks thoroughly indignant.

"A chaperone , really?" she huffs, unimpressed and clearly about to kick up a fuss on principle. He’s not sure why she’s so surprised by his request.

She’s the Crown Princess of a powerful kingdom, in a castle soon to be fit to bursting with unfamiliar faces, what’s so unreasonable about assigning her a guard?

"Silas would poison you in your bed and sleep like a baby if he thought he could get away with it," he points out as easily as if he were describing the weather on a particularly mild day.

"We don’t want him thinking he can get away with it, do we?"

That shuts her up.

For a second.

"So what about you?" she counters, after a beat. "You really think Silas won’t come after you?"

"Bongo will be at my side day and night," he assures her, to prove that he’s already thought that far ahead.

Luminus may be malicious, conniving, and intent on the destruction of others, but Gurdet seriously doubts that he’s stupid enough to make an attempt on his or his daughter’s life. And if he is, well, then there’s no one he’d rather entrust his life to than Bongo. "But I’m touched by your concern."

She doesn’t look concerned . In fact, all of a sudden, her eyes have turned sad.

"...And Loac?" she asks softly, staring down into her empty cup. "Are you worried about him, too?"

Ah.

"He’s a prince too," she whispers, "I know you sometimes forget that."

It’s so easy to.

"...Loac can take care of himself," Gurdet sighs, shaking his head. She worries about that boy too much. It’s entirely unnecessary, he’s perfectly capable of protecting himself, and better than any guard he could assign.

She’s conveniently forgotten that her cousin has a bad habit of slipping away from any, and every guard he he’s ever ordered to watch over him. It’s a full time job just trying to keep track of him.

They might be here to celebrate Loac’s impending wedding, but Gurdet wouldn’t be at all surprised if their guests didn’t even catch a glimpse of him.

He decides not to mention that. It’ll just make her more upset, and he really can’t stand seeing her cry.

"Finish your breakfast, Xena."