If there was one thing Sandor knew, it was that he hated Ogres.
They were arrogant, and selfish, and felt stupidly entitled to anything and everything, and they were only concerned with their kingdom and had no sense of loyalty, and the list went on and on.
So when he'd met Rohmilda, the first Ogre bodyguard, an arrogant, entitled, spoiled brat of a princess, he knew he was right about them. She never. Stopped. Talking. Drawling on and on about her oh-so-interesting amoebas, constantly grating on his nerves, antagonizing him and laughing in his face, meddling in things that weren't her right to meddle in, and Sandor hated her right away.
She would push their charges together, trying to set them up, for some odd reason. Didn't she know they were fighting a war? They had no time for trivial things like teenage crushes and heartbreaks, and Sandor was almost fully convinced there was some sort of complicated web of unrequited feelings going on around his charge. Sophie was oblivious to it all, and he'd like it to stay that way, too. What she doesn't know can't distract her. Sophie was at the front of an interspecial war, the face of the Elvin government, their greatest weapon. She didn't need to be worrying about feelings of all things.
So yes. Sandor hated Ro. But it was based and logical, like everything else in his life. It was a tactical decision.
However, she and Grizel got along wonderfully, so he was forced to be civil toward her. He was dragged along on their patrols, with Lovise and Woltzer, and usually trailed behind with the latter pair, because at least they weren't the Ogre Princess herself.
The topic of this particular patrol was evidently hidden weapons.
"-And I got gifted this hair pin by one of my colleagues, it's really sharp, and-" Ro was animatedly telling the story to a nodding Grizel, who looked every bit as enraptured in the story as Ro herself, and Ro was the one telling it. Sandor rolled his eyes.
"I don't understand how she's managed to get people's respect," He grumbled to himself. Woltzer gave him a quizzical look.
"Who?"
"Rohmilda, who else?" Sandor hissed, "The Ogre who was put in charge of our most flighty kid. The one telling a story about a hair accessory."
Lovise glanced ahead at them, whispering "I don't really see what you're talking about,"
Sandor sighed. None of them seemed to see it, for some reason. She was obviously careless with all her duties, how she was given Keefe as a charge baffled him. Keefe had run off multiple times before, and Ro would never be able to reign him in. It was clear as day to Sandor. How could they miss it?
"She's in charge of our slipperiest kid. The one who ran off to the Neverseen. I'm not really sure that's a good combination." He said bluntly.
Lovise and Woltzer exchanged uncomfortable looks.
"What?" Sandor frowned.
They didn't respond, So Sandor focused on the ladies ahead of him. Ro was noticeably quieter in her account of the present. Good, Sandor thought to himself, I could stand with a little less of a headache.
He turned back to the scenery at Rimshire, tuning out the voices up ahead of him.
