The One Knight Stand

.: Era's End :.

21 |  Era's End

But someone did notice Blue's absence.

A certain someone who was frustrated with the endless droves of big buxom women and hairy alpha males who wanted to claim his hand for the night.

Bo had taken speaking sign language at home for granted. Besides Blue he never had to actually talk, and she understood him well enough he only spoke aloud because he wanted to. Bo forgot how he struggled with no avenues of communication besides facial expressions, and between cultures a wary smile held different meanings to different people.

A pushy nobleman interpreted Bo shaking his head as an invitation to buy him a pint he didn't even ask for. The man smelled like oysters and burnt grass, and Prince Bo wanted no part of it.

"C'mon, just a sip." He introduced himself as Duke Momus, and Bo made a note to have the man exiled as soon as he returned to the palace. The quartet up front, composed of a lute, a guitar, a fiddle, and a trumpet, played with the sound of a band thrice their size. Villagers danced and gyrated and consumed and gorged themselves on their pleasures.

Not even the musicians jumping to the past paced tune Sugar Fever could shake him out of his gloom.

"Come banty with me, sweetheart. You look hella light on your feet."

No, thank you. Bo mouthed. Why couldn't he be mean? Blue would've told the bastard to piss off as soon as he swaggered in her general direction.

"Aw, live a little, baby. Relax."

On what world did "No!" sound like "Maybe, please convince me?"

Bo wanted to scream.

The feast was in full swing and there were no Sanlanhs in sight. Bo only attended so he could clear the air about That Night and The Morning After. You'd think they'd actually had relations instead of, you know, just casually sharing a sleeping bag, but with Blue nothing was simple.

The urge to kiss his squire's cheek goodbye last night was overwhelming, and he kicked himself all the way to the tax collector's house.

Tonight was supposed to be The Night when he swallowed Pilar's advice and exposed himself even further. Bo played it off admirably, but talking about his mother left him raw. Impossibly full. Newborn naked.

Peel back anymore layers and Bo would unravel.

"It's not going to be comfortable," Pilar chided on their way to the Playing Circle that morning. "She will almost certainly rebuke you."

That's fine, Bo signed. I don't have any expectations.

But he had to do something. A half cooked plan, a declaration, whatever, it didn't matter.

And of course Blue wasn't even there to hear his shitty romantic decree, so was it a blessing in disguise or did the Universe merely punk him out for the millionth time?

Duke Momus leaned in close, burping in Bo's sensitive ear. "You wanna - urp - get outta here pretty boy?"

No. An irritated head shake. No. Never. Not in your life. Leave.

"Listen here you little bitch-"

Prince Bo had had enough. A mighty hand latched onto Duke Momus's face, covering it entirely, and shoved him back so hard he flew into a group of teenagers enjoying their banty.

"Oy mate! The hell's your problem?"

"You royals ain't got enough space now you gotta invade ours?" A young girl menacingly brandished a turkey leg at the drunk Duke, who was woefully outmanned.