Chapter 270 - 268: Behind The Kings Back.

Chapter 270: Chapter 268: Behind The Kings Back.

​"Hey, can you not say it like that?" Montrel complains, even as the rest of the table enthusiastically jumps on board with Gandy’s suggestion.

It feels like it’s been forever since they’ve all gone out drinking in the city taverns together after all, and there’s no time quite like winter to drink themselves silly on cheap ale and in cheap company.

​And now they have the perfect excuse.

​As if intentionally seeking to spoil their fun, thunder booms outside.

​(Maybe not tonight .)

​Undaunted, the conversation abruptly shifts gears as they all start throwing in their thoughts on where exactly they should go.

This sort of discussion always gets quite boisterous –argumentative, even –because every soldier has their own idea of what’s most important in a tavern.

Some care most about the ale and even amongst them there’s generally some debate about whether it should be sweet, or strong, or cheap.

For others it’s all about the food. Others still will happily toast with crappy ale and eat dreadful food, as long as the barmaids there are pretty.

​Gandy’s honestly liking the sound of the place Mural’s put forward –they’re known for having incredible pies and very reasonably priced ale.

The drinks are nothing fancy, sure, but nothing pairs quite so nicely with a frigid winter’s evening as a steaming meat pie.

And they’re enormous, too; Gandy and Montrel almost made themselves sick one time trying to finish one apiece, so surely even Khobi with his ridiculous appetite would have some measure of difficulty?

​Now that’d be something worth seeing.

​He’s just about to say as much, but Montrel has all but read his mind and beats him to it.

​And too late, they both realise their mistake.

​Gandy’s mouth snaps shut so fast his teeth clack.

​Ah. Shit.

​It’s gotten so easy to forget that while Khobi’s allowed to be one of them in here, out there is a whole different story.

​"Ah, shit, my bad," Montrel mumbles, flinging Khobi an apologetic look as he realises that they’ve just been making plans right in front of him that there’s no chance he’s going to be allowed to be a part of.

After the last time Bongo had made it quite clear that just because they liked Khobi that didn’t stop him from being a political prisoner and that they couldn’t just take him out partying whenever they felt like it.

​"S’fine," is what Khobi tells him, even though anyone can see plain as day that it’s clearly not fine and his voice is uncharacteristically subdued when he says, "...You guys should go."

​"Don’t be a dumbass," Montrel scoffs, affectionately digging his fist into Khobi’s ribs, "S’not gonna be the same if you can’t come." That makes the corners of Khobi’s mouth curl up as he shoves him back, but it doesn’t change the downcast slump of his shoulders or the thoroughly glum expression plastered across his face.

Gandy feels a pang of guilt for having started this in the first place; he hadn’t even given it a second thought –heading down to the city was how they celebrated, and if a lug like Montrel getting a pretty girl to give him the time of day wasn’t worth celebrating, then he’s not sure what is.

​Khobi tells them again that it’s fine and that they should just go without him, but he’s gotta be stupid if he honestly thinks they’re gonna do that.

​They can just have some drinks here at the castle. It’s fine.

It’s not quite the same, but it’s better than just.. leaving him out altogether , because as much as he’s trying to hide it so that he doesn’t ruin their fun, it’s so blatantly obvious that he really wants to join them.

​It’s then that a voice interrupts out of nowhere.

​It’s a terrible thing to say about his own prince, and possibly even strange given how he notoriously impossible he was to ignore, but in the commotion Gandy had actually kind of forgotten that Loac was even there.

It’s not his fault; he’s been sitting with his back to them for some time now, staring into the fire and looking for all intents and purposes like he’s forgotten all about them, too.

​But evidently he’s been listening.

​(Gandy’s not sure that bodes well for Montrel, given what they’ve been discussing.)

​And it’s really not like Loac to insert himself into their business, which is why it’s so strange that he does so now.

​What’s even stranger , is what he says.

​"How ’bout I just sneak him out?"

...

If it were summer, there’d be crickets.

​As it is, it’s winter, and while the world no doubt continues on outside their little table, suddenly everything seems uncannily quiet

.

​Montrel’s the first to find his voice.

​"What are you talking about?" he scoffs, "What do you mean you’ll just sneak him out ?"

​"I sneak out of the castle all the time," Loac drawls flatly, "It’s not hard." It feels needlessly pointed, the glance he sweeps over them, "...The guards here are terrible."

​Well, that’s hardly fair, but it’s not like any of them can argue.

Their prince has a reputation for being nigh impossible to find, and none of them have ever seen him come and go.

​"And besides," he says, head lolling as he directs his next comment to Khobi, "...I owe you, right?"

​Honestly, Khobi is kind of speechless. First of all, he’d just kind of assumed that Loac was going to pretend to forget ever owing him anything.

And secondly, if he’d ever gotten him to admit it, he never would have imagined that this was how he’d try to pay him back. He baked a batch of sweet treats.

Loac’s just essentially offered to defy a king for him.

​The honey cakes were good. But not that good.

​So he doesn’t get it.

​"Well yeah, but..." he mumbles awkwardly, and Loac immediately shrugs as though he’s gone and proven his point.

​" –So it’s fine then," he cuts in flatly, like it’s really just that simple. And the look he flings towards the soldiers has an undeniably conspiratorial glint to it, "...Gurdet doesn’t need to know."

​No one argues with him.