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DMCL Valentines: Rumors
Garry knows that his afternoon is going to be an absolute mess when some of the other maids and footservants of the castle manage to corner him one day while he's fetching a change of sheets for His Majesty, with the first words out of their mouths being, "So, if there's anyone who would know, it you, right?"
Honestly... He has a good suspicion of what they're all referring to. Still, it's rude to call people out on things when one doesn't have any evidence, so Garry just sighs. "I mean, that really depends on quite a lot of things, I would think," he says gently, trying not to be too snide or snappish. It's not as though his coworkers are particularly bad people. His Majesty seemed to have made a good choice in Head Maids and Butlers, and so no one who works in the castle is evil or anything. He knows that. Sometimes, it's still just hard not to be a little annoyed. Or maybe it's just because of this particular topic... "Is this about Dagda, maybe?"
It's absolutely not about Dagda. He knows that even before a couple of heads shake in answer. "No - but His Majesty put you in charge of helping clean both his personal bedroom and the King of Almyra's guest room, right? Have you noticed anything interesting since you've been in King Khalid's room?"
"You all really are absolutely bewitched by King Khalid, aren't you?" Garry comments, returning most of his attention back to the sheets that he's pulling down from their storage place. There are only so many hours in the day, after all, and it would be better for his job if he could get everything tidied up in King Khalid's room before the visiting royal returns back from whatever else he's doing in town. There's still so much left on his plate... "Of course there are interesting things. He's from an entirely different country, with all sorts of new clothing and the like."
And he's not lying about it, either. There really are all sorts of interesting things in King Khalid's guest room that Garry almost hardly dares touch even with the king's casual permission to do whatever it is he needs to in order to clean it.
Intricate jewelry, some of the pendants or materials like nothing he'd ever seen in Fodlan even while working in Fhirdiad Castle... Clothing that seemed so smooth it could put some of noble fashion to shame, and in brilliant patterns that reminded him faintly of what he'd seen of Duscur's... And there's a smell as well to some of the things about, although he has to admit that could be just about anything. It could even just be the smell of the desert, lingering about and fading slowly while the king stays around for his diplomatic meetings with King Dimitri and many others. How would Garry know? It isn't as though he's ever been down south, near the border between the old Alliance lands and Almyra.
Of course... That's not what they were all referring to, and he knows it. One of the footservants huffs, their feet tapping impatiently against the ground. "And you've never seen anything odd?" they press, leaning in Garry's direction. Considering the height difference on them, he knows it's not to be intimidating. Just curiosity without any lead. "Like, say... Maybe a famous and really single knight hanging around, or leaving his quarters...?"
What.
Garry completely forgets what he's doing, mouth dropping open and his hands dropping the sheets that he'd taken so much care to pull out. It's only when one of the other maids leaps forward with a squeak to grab them before they hit the floor that he snaps out of it. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" Even as he gathers the sheets up into his arms again, he stares incredulously at the footservant. "Are you speaking of Lady Ingrid? The famed pegasus knight? One of His Majesty's close friends, and the one-"
Quite frankly speaking, he could go one for ages on the various titles and accomplishments the land's rare female knight of quite some success. It's probably why one of the maids cuts him off after a moment, waving her hand through the air. "Yes, yes, that particular pegasus knight."
He can't help it. The words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them. "Doesn't she like women?"
Silly and stupid mistake, really. That's more than enough to get the whole lot of them whirling on him all over again, eyes glittering with the kind of fervor that only good gossip sparks. "What? How do you know that!? Did you see anything!?" The questions start pouring out immediately, like a torrent during the miserable parts of spring, and it's all Garry can do to fumble through them with what he knows.
Which is nothing conclusive. Just little things he thought he saw here and there, the lack of interest in many men that sparked the eyes of others who held such attractions, nonsense like that. They don't seem particularly convinced at the idea, but it is an idea that seems to distract a good few of them from their previous inquiries. Nothing is better than to shift the topic of gossip than another and equally fascinating idea, after all. Garry feels a little bad about it, really. He knows that Ingrid of Galatea is already going through a lot, but.. It just slipped out. Especially in relation to King Khalid.
At least he knows that, due to the everchanging ways that workers in the castle have to keep their boredom at bay, the gossip will probably have changed by the afternoon. Certainly there's no end to the fantasies and daydreams that come with working near foreign dignitaries and valiant knights.
And really... It's worked out in the end. That means the gossip they were originally hounding him for is forgotten, at least for the afternoon, and that's all Garry can really ask for.
After all, the truth of the matter would be so scandalous that he knows for a fact that not a single one of his cowokers could keep it to themselves for long. It's just far too much. The best secret, in the end, is one that only he knows. Well, he and the two kings residing in this same castle, after all.
The guards on duty around the royal living quarters give him a polite nod when he makes his way over, long since familiar with him, his schedule, and what he's tasked to do here. There's no problems at all making his way past them, down the halls, and letting himself into the room of His Majesty - King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. No matter how many times Garry sees it, he still can't help but admire it all, just a little bit. Mostly he admires the size of the luxurious bed, and the nicely stocked fireplace kept on one side of the room that no doubt does a wonderful job in the wintertime.
With the reforms that His Majesty has been making, steadily trying to spearhead points of change and have them grow throughout the entire continent, Garry has been able to move out of the miserable shack that he himself was living in, he's glad to say. Best to leave behind those miserable memories during the war, where he was terrified every day that his own lover would fall ill past the point of no return. That terrible things would happen to his own niece, living with them while her parents were who knew where.
Still, well... Every time he comes inside to clean the king's bedroom, Garry can't help but admire the place that has managed to survive all this time as a comfortable den for the king of an entire kingdom.
He's in the middle of prying the sheets already on the immensely large bed off of it when there's the sound of movement in the adjoining room, and Garry makes sure not to look at the sound of wet feet on stone. "Hard at work as usual, huh?" says a voice that's far too familiar and relaxed for the body it belongs to.
Well, if he's speaking to him, then that must mean he's in the right state of dress for it. Leaving the sheets be for right now, Garry turns to His Majesty, King Khalid of Almyra, and takes his dress to the sides for a slight curtsy. "Greetings to his esteemed guest of the royal house, and His Majesty," he says politely, because, well. He knows that King Khalid might not mind that kind of thing at all, but he should at least keep up the practice so he doesn't slip up while he's in front of anyone in public.
In contrast, when he straightens up, King Khalid is just smiling over at him as he leans against the doorframe that leads into the royal baths. He really is a rather handsome man, with that curly hair made a little looser from dampness, and a robe that doesn't seem to quite fit him bundled up all around his shoulders and torso. Almyra is quite a warm country, it seems, and even Fhirdiad's warm spring can't really compare at all. "Hey to you too," he says, because he can afford to be like that. Well, it's kind of anxiety-inducing and kind of relaxing at the same time, for all the sense that makes. "You were a few minutes late; everything alright?"
King Dimitri pays attention to the same things, Garry has noticed. Little details that even some of his fellow coworkers would be oblivious to, but the king of an entire continent brings up. If he's late, if his trousers or skirts are a little dirty this time around, things like that. It doesn't happen often, because they don't meet often - even if Garry is cleaning up his living quarters. Still. It's nice, to be noticed like that.
There's never any accusation to the words, either. Just the same kind of gentle inquiries that would come from someone on his level. It's one of the reasons why he likes working in Fhirdiad Castle so much.
"The gossip with the other workers just got to be a little too much," Garry explains, and ponders for a brief moment if he should worry King Khalid with the kinds of things going on around him. Would it be a relief to hear that the chatter about him is now less to do with how this is some grant plot from Almyra to assassinate their young king, and now more about the silly trite romance gossip that every single person of standing gets treated to in the castle?
King Khalid seems like the kind of person who'd find that kind of thing amusing... But no. No reason to bother him with the kind of dumb talk that happens to people who need some silly fantasies and ideas to get through a work day.
Of course, that's his plan. It's his plan all the way up until he sees some sort of light spark in King Khalid's eyes, and he suspects he's just unleashed something or another. "Oh boy," he muses, rolling his head from side to side, like someone swirling liquid about in a mug. "I guess the grapevine never stops flouring, no matter what kind of day it is, through rain or shine. It's almost kind of admirable. Are they still going on about how I'm going to poison their beloved King Dimitri at the next meal we have together...?"
Ah. He understands, now. With the absence of any concrete details, the mind runs off to the worst possible scenario. Well... It's not like Garry can't understand that. It's just that he refuses to agree with it, too. "If that's what they all said, then I would be sure to correct them," Garry reassures King Khalid, going back to gathering up the dirty sheets.
The... quite stained and dirty sheets..
It's nothing he hasn't seen before, of course. In fact, one could say that it's part of the whole reason why he's working here for it all in the first place, why someone had to be chosen as the one in particular to clean the royal bedroom and those of a certain distinguished guest. this sort of secret... is one that can only be hidden with great care. It's exactly as he said before, too: the best kept secret is one that only one person knows.
At least, it's a phrasing he's heard more than a couple of times from King Khalid, and Garry can't deny the logic.
Well, while he's here... "Are there any clothes that might need washing as well, Your Majesty Khalid?" Garry asks politely, and tries not to smile too much in amusement when Khalid's cheeks grow a little dark.
Once upon a time, he used to think that the King of Almyra was the kind of person who didn't know what shame or embarrassment was. He'd just seemed so confident when he had first arrived to Fhirdiad Castle, with bright eyes and the kind of smile that was hard to resist. No doubt all of that has contributed to how well talks have been going between the various nobles of Fodlan and the Almyran warriors and diplomats. And even when Garry became privy to the secret relationship between the two kings, he'd thought that King Khalid had seemed so relaxed.
But then King Dimitri had said something sweet to him, and his reaction had been just like it is now: awkward and gentle and with a deep blush on his cheeks.
"Well, there might be a couple of things that are in a little bit of rough shape," he concedes. "We went horseback riding yesterday, and, well, you know how things go when you go horseback riding."
Garry has absolutely no idea how things go when horseback riding. He was the child of tailors, not ranchers or farmers or pegasi knights.
"I'll see what I can do about getting them cleaned up in time, in case you have need of them again," he says instead, carefully taking to the task of folding up the dirtied sheets so that the most incriminating stains aren't easily visible. He's going to be carrying these through the halls, after all. Discretion is the most important thing. "The sheets will take longer, of course, but a simple outfit won't be a problem at all." Even with all the different and new clothes, and the various accessories, and the many layers... It's fine. He has some pride as a worker in Fhirdiad Castle, after all.
There's a certain level of satisfaction that comes with it, honestly, at least with the right people. King Khalid fits that category perfectly, with his sheepishness vanishing in a heartbeat as its exchanged for a brilliant smile that suits the desert sun. "Perfect. I have a couple of spare outfits I could use for horseback riding, but there are pretty sharp eyes in the castle. People will notice if I abandon one for too long."
Garry thinks about the servants gossiping, and then about the even harsher tongues of nobility and particularly successful merchants. "I suppose so," he agrees mildly, setting the dirtied sheets to the side. "Do you need help getting a different change of clothing right now, then?" He's not exactly under the employ of Almyra or anything, but it would be rude to not offer, he guesses.
King Khalid just shakes his head. "Don't worry about it, I had at least that much presence of mind," he laughs. "Besides, I figured I should probably do my part to keep things quiet, right? I have a spare change of clothes, don't worry. I was just enjoying the enmities that come with the King of Fodlan's chambers."
Oh, good. That's less work for him to do. Taking up the fresh sheets, Garry tries to hide his sigh of relief. All the gossip really put him off schedule...
"Then I will simply continue replacing the sheets," he says, working as he talks - the only way anyone can get either thing done in this castle, sometimes. "Unless you have something else you need to have done? I suppose you did come out of your bath for a reason..." Garry doesn't really go into the king's bathing chamber that often; that's for people who can fiddle with and clean it a lot more expertly than he can. For things like a royal bathing chamber, that requires somewhat different skills.... and, from what he's heard, a whole day of dealing with it, to make sure it's in the perfect condition. He thinks there might even be magic involved, so that it's filled with water quicker?
It would sure be nice if that were a more common thing, but Garry knows that's a long shot in hell. Not only do most nobles seem to like having exclusive things like fancy bathing quarters, but Garry knows that it takes a lot of work for such a thing to come into being. Not only for architects, but also because it runs on magic. There just aren't enough mages to spare for that kind of thing.... Not with the kind of requirements that the school of sorcery in Fhirdiad requires.
From the corner of his eye, he watches King Khalid tilt his head from side to side again. It's all just a show, he's pretty sure. If he truly does need something, and it's important, then King Khalid doesn't really waste any time in bringing it up. Probably befitting of a king, he makes decisions pretty decisively. "I suppose there's nothing that really needs any attention," he says at long last. "But Dimitri is going to be fairly busy today, showing some one on one time with the others in my delegation, so I thought I would just bother someone else for a little bit of conversation. If you don't mind me bugging you while you work, at any rate."
Garry can't say he's worked for a lot of nobility, honestly. Even when his family's shop was still running smoothly, the highest their clientele ever went was maybe a particularly successful merchant. Yet it still feels refreshing, for someone like King Khalid to at least pretend to ask.
His own coworkers sometimes don't even bother with that level of courtesy. Just an hour earlier shows that much.
This probably won't be any harder than chatting with his coworkers, as a matter of fact. He can do that much. Sure, he doesn't really know noble etiquette or anything, but he's pretty sure that if King Khalid cared about what Faerghan noble etiquette looked like, he wouldn't be having a chat with a servant anyway. "If you'd like," he says, maneuvering around the massive bed so that he can tuck the sheets in properly. He doubts that King Dimitri would care if they were a little wrinkled or out of place, but what can Garry say? He's not going to do a crap job for someone he actually likes. "Although I'm not certain if I would have any interesting tales for a King of Almyra."
Tugging the robe around himself so that it's a little more secure, King Khalid makes his way over to one of the spare chairs that are sitting about. Probably it's just King Dimitri's robes making him look a tad smaller, but it almost seems as though he sinks right into one of those comfortably cushioned seats. Ah, to steal a nap in one of those... "Hey, don't sell yourself short!" King Khalidlaughs. "Why don't we start with everyone's impressions of the Almyran delegation so far? Even the bad. I gotta know what to cover, and you guys are the most important people in this whole thing."
More important than the king of a country? Than the many nobles and merchants watching this whole thing with bated breath? Garry rather doubts that. Still, while he understands his shut mouth is important for this relationship between the two kings, he feels that can't possibly be the explanation for why King Khalid speaks so sincerely to him during moments like this.
So Garry smiles back, hands smoothing out wrinkles, and says, "Well, if you're truly fine with any information at all..."
Back when there had first been talks of a visit from Almyra, his coworkers had been equal parts curious and concerned, with the exact ratio differing from person to person. For those naturally born from Faerghus, most were curious about a distant land that was the polar opposite to their own frigid mountains and snow. After all, while Almyra may have posed such a severe threat to unite three countries ages and ages ago... Those were often something akin to tales one's grandparents told, in some way. Who could be bothered about such things when Sreng was the more immediate threat to so many, or when they had their own internal war to stress about? Almyra was distant in the way that fairytales were distant - yes, maybe it applied to them at some point a long long time ago, but it wasn't real real.
The workers from the Leicester Alliance, of course, were more wary.... and Garry can't say that they're wrong about it. Since working in Fhirdiad Castle, he's ended up learning more about politics than he thought he actually would as a simple servant. A lot of it goes over his head, of course, with names or references to trade that don't affect the immediacies of his day to day life, but he's come to recognize some things. And he knows that, with their border being right up against Almyra, the old Leicester Alliance had to deal with the desert country a whole lot more than Faerghus did. A decade, almost, of skirmishes and clashes, up until the new king took the throne.
And those who used to be a part of the immense empire of Adrestia? It's hard for Garry to say, sometimes. Maybe it's because Adrestia ground up against more the distant and water-locked islands of places like Brigid, but he never got the feeling they really understood the feelings that came with places like Sreng for Faerghus, or Almyra for Leicester.
If anything... It's always felt to him like they were more likely to be at odds or grind against anyone from within Fodlan itself, rather than from out of it.
"Not that there's been any problem in the castle, of course," Garry says over his shoulder as he checks the stuffing of the pillows to make sure no feathers have poked through or that fabric has torn. "Even though everyone might have their flaws, there's been nothing so bad that it's lead to real issues. Just maybe a spat here or there. I think it helps that it's some of the younger generation, along with a good eye for picking out good personalities from the head butler and maid."
Honestly... He has a good suspicion of what they're all referring to. Still, it's rude to call people out on things when one doesn't have any evidence, so Garry just sighs. "I mean, that really depends on quite a lot of things, I would think," he says gently, trying not to be too snide or snappish. It's not as though his coworkers are particularly bad people. His Majesty seemed to have made a good choice in Head Maids and Butlers, and so no one who works in the castle is evil or anything. He knows that. Sometimes, it's still just hard not to be a little annoyed. Or maybe it's just because of this particular topic... "Is this about Dagda, maybe?"
It's absolutely not about Dagda. He knows that even before a couple of heads shake in answer. "No - but His Majesty put you in charge of helping clean both his personal bedroom and the King of Almyra's guest room, right? Have you noticed anything interesting since you've been in King Khalid's room?"
"You all really are absolutely bewitched by King Khalid, aren't you?" Garry comments, returning most of his attention back to the sheets that he's pulling down from their storage place. There are only so many hours in the day, after all, and it would be better for his job if he could get everything tidied up in King Khalid's room before the visiting royal returns back from whatever else he's doing in town. There's still so much left on his plate... "Of course there are interesting things. He's from an entirely different country, with all sorts of new clothing and the like."
And he's not lying about it, either. There really are all sorts of interesting things in King Khalid's guest room that Garry almost hardly dares touch even with the king's casual permission to do whatever it is he needs to in order to clean it.
Intricate jewelry, some of the pendants or materials like nothing he'd ever seen in Fodlan even while working in Fhirdiad Castle... Clothing that seemed so smooth it could put some of noble fashion to shame, and in brilliant patterns that reminded him faintly of what he'd seen of Duscur's... And there's a smell as well to some of the things about, although he has to admit that could be just about anything. It could even just be the smell of the desert, lingering about and fading slowly while the king stays around for his diplomatic meetings with King Dimitri and many others. How would Garry know? It isn't as though he's ever been down south, near the border between the old Alliance lands and Almyra.
Of course... That's not what they were all referring to, and he knows it. One of the footservants huffs, their feet tapping impatiently against the ground. "And you've never seen anything odd?" they press, leaning in Garry's direction. Considering the height difference on them, he knows it's not to be intimidating. Just curiosity without any lead. "Like, say... Maybe a famous and really single knight hanging around, or leaving his quarters...?"
What.
Garry completely forgets what he's doing, mouth dropping open and his hands dropping the sheets that he'd taken so much care to pull out. It's only when one of the other maids leaps forward with a squeak to grab them before they hit the floor that he snaps out of it. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" Even as he gathers the sheets up into his arms again, he stares incredulously at the footservant. "Are you speaking of Lady Ingrid? The famed pegasus knight? One of His Majesty's close friends, and the one-"
Quite frankly speaking, he could go one for ages on the various titles and accomplishments the land's rare female knight of quite some success. It's probably why one of the maids cuts him off after a moment, waving her hand through the air. "Yes, yes, that particular pegasus knight."
He can't help it. The words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them. "Doesn't she like women?"
Silly and stupid mistake, really. That's more than enough to get the whole lot of them whirling on him all over again, eyes glittering with the kind of fervor that only good gossip sparks. "What? How do you know that!? Did you see anything!?" The questions start pouring out immediately, like a torrent during the miserable parts of spring, and it's all Garry can do to fumble through them with what he knows.
Which is nothing conclusive. Just little things he thought he saw here and there, the lack of interest in many men that sparked the eyes of others who held such attractions, nonsense like that. They don't seem particularly convinced at the idea, but it is an idea that seems to distract a good few of them from their previous inquiries. Nothing is better than to shift the topic of gossip than another and equally fascinating idea, after all. Garry feels a little bad about it, really. He knows that Ingrid of Galatea is already going through a lot, but.. It just slipped out. Especially in relation to King Khalid.
At least he knows that, due to the everchanging ways that workers in the castle have to keep their boredom at bay, the gossip will probably have changed by the afternoon. Certainly there's no end to the fantasies and daydreams that come with working near foreign dignitaries and valiant knights.
And really... It's worked out in the end. That means the gossip they were originally hounding him for is forgotten, at least for the afternoon, and that's all Garry can really ask for.
After all, the truth of the matter would be so scandalous that he knows for a fact that not a single one of his cowokers could keep it to themselves for long. It's just far too much. The best secret, in the end, is one that only he knows. Well, he and the two kings residing in this same castle, after all.
The guards on duty around the royal living quarters give him a polite nod when he makes his way over, long since familiar with him, his schedule, and what he's tasked to do here. There's no problems at all making his way past them, down the halls, and letting himself into the room of His Majesty - King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. No matter how many times Garry sees it, he still can't help but admire it all, just a little bit. Mostly he admires the size of the luxurious bed, and the nicely stocked fireplace kept on one side of the room that no doubt does a wonderful job in the wintertime.
With the reforms that His Majesty has been making, steadily trying to spearhead points of change and have them grow throughout the entire continent, Garry has been able to move out of the miserable shack that he himself was living in, he's glad to say. Best to leave behind those miserable memories during the war, where he was terrified every day that his own lover would fall ill past the point of no return. That terrible things would happen to his own niece, living with them while her parents were who knew where.
Still, well... Every time he comes inside to clean the king's bedroom, Garry can't help but admire the place that has managed to survive all this time as a comfortable den for the king of an entire kingdom.
He's in the middle of prying the sheets already on the immensely large bed off of it when there's the sound of movement in the adjoining room, and Garry makes sure not to look at the sound of wet feet on stone. "Hard at work as usual, huh?" says a voice that's far too familiar and relaxed for the body it belongs to.
Well, if he's speaking to him, then that must mean he's in the right state of dress for it. Leaving the sheets be for right now, Garry turns to His Majesty, King Khalid of Almyra, and takes his dress to the sides for a slight curtsy. "Greetings to his esteemed guest of the royal house, and His Majesty," he says politely, because, well. He knows that King Khalid might not mind that kind of thing at all, but he should at least keep up the practice so he doesn't slip up while he's in front of anyone in public.
In contrast, when he straightens up, King Khalid is just smiling over at him as he leans against the doorframe that leads into the royal baths. He really is a rather handsome man, with that curly hair made a little looser from dampness, and a robe that doesn't seem to quite fit him bundled up all around his shoulders and torso. Almyra is quite a warm country, it seems, and even Fhirdiad's warm spring can't really compare at all. "Hey to you too," he says, because he can afford to be like that. Well, it's kind of anxiety-inducing and kind of relaxing at the same time, for all the sense that makes. "You were a few minutes late; everything alright?"
King Dimitri pays attention to the same things, Garry has noticed. Little details that even some of his fellow coworkers would be oblivious to, but the king of an entire continent brings up. If he's late, if his trousers or skirts are a little dirty this time around, things like that. It doesn't happen often, because they don't meet often - even if Garry is cleaning up his living quarters. Still. It's nice, to be noticed like that.
There's never any accusation to the words, either. Just the same kind of gentle inquiries that would come from someone on his level. It's one of the reasons why he likes working in Fhirdiad Castle so much.
"The gossip with the other workers just got to be a little too much," Garry explains, and ponders for a brief moment if he should worry King Khalid with the kinds of things going on around him. Would it be a relief to hear that the chatter about him is now less to do with how this is some grant plot from Almyra to assassinate their young king, and now more about the silly trite romance gossip that every single person of standing gets treated to in the castle?
King Khalid seems like the kind of person who'd find that kind of thing amusing... But no. No reason to bother him with the kind of dumb talk that happens to people who need some silly fantasies and ideas to get through a work day.
Of course, that's his plan. It's his plan all the way up until he sees some sort of light spark in King Khalid's eyes, and he suspects he's just unleashed something or another. "Oh boy," he muses, rolling his head from side to side, like someone swirling liquid about in a mug. "I guess the grapevine never stops flouring, no matter what kind of day it is, through rain or shine. It's almost kind of admirable. Are they still going on about how I'm going to poison their beloved King Dimitri at the next meal we have together...?"
Ah. He understands, now. With the absence of any concrete details, the mind runs off to the worst possible scenario. Well... It's not like Garry can't understand that. It's just that he refuses to agree with it, too. "If that's what they all said, then I would be sure to correct them," Garry reassures King Khalid, going back to gathering up the dirty sheets.
The... quite stained and dirty sheets..
It's nothing he hasn't seen before, of course. In fact, one could say that it's part of the whole reason why he's working here for it all in the first place, why someone had to be chosen as the one in particular to clean the royal bedroom and those of a certain distinguished guest. this sort of secret... is one that can only be hidden with great care. It's exactly as he said before, too: the best kept secret is one that only one person knows.
At least, it's a phrasing he's heard more than a couple of times from King Khalid, and Garry can't deny the logic.
Well, while he's here... "Are there any clothes that might need washing as well, Your Majesty Khalid?" Garry asks politely, and tries not to smile too much in amusement when Khalid's cheeks grow a little dark.
Once upon a time, he used to think that the King of Almyra was the kind of person who didn't know what shame or embarrassment was. He'd just seemed so confident when he had first arrived to Fhirdiad Castle, with bright eyes and the kind of smile that was hard to resist. No doubt all of that has contributed to how well talks have been going between the various nobles of Fodlan and the Almyran warriors and diplomats. And even when Garry became privy to the secret relationship between the two kings, he'd thought that King Khalid had seemed so relaxed.
But then King Dimitri had said something sweet to him, and his reaction had been just like it is now: awkward and gentle and with a deep blush on his cheeks.
"Well, there might be a couple of things that are in a little bit of rough shape," he concedes. "We went horseback riding yesterday, and, well, you know how things go when you go horseback riding."
Garry has absolutely no idea how things go when horseback riding. He was the child of tailors, not ranchers or farmers or pegasi knights.
"I'll see what I can do about getting them cleaned up in time, in case you have need of them again," he says instead, carefully taking to the task of folding up the dirtied sheets so that the most incriminating stains aren't easily visible. He's going to be carrying these through the halls, after all. Discretion is the most important thing. "The sheets will take longer, of course, but a simple outfit won't be a problem at all." Even with all the different and new clothes, and the various accessories, and the many layers... It's fine. He has some pride as a worker in Fhirdiad Castle, after all.
There's a certain level of satisfaction that comes with it, honestly, at least with the right people. King Khalid fits that category perfectly, with his sheepishness vanishing in a heartbeat as its exchanged for a brilliant smile that suits the desert sun. "Perfect. I have a couple of spare outfits I could use for horseback riding, but there are pretty sharp eyes in the castle. People will notice if I abandon one for too long."
Garry thinks about the servants gossiping, and then about the even harsher tongues of nobility and particularly successful merchants. "I suppose so," he agrees mildly, setting the dirtied sheets to the side. "Do you need help getting a different change of clothing right now, then?" He's not exactly under the employ of Almyra or anything, but it would be rude to not offer, he guesses.
King Khalid just shakes his head. "Don't worry about it, I had at least that much presence of mind," he laughs. "Besides, I figured I should probably do my part to keep things quiet, right? I have a spare change of clothes, don't worry. I was just enjoying the enmities that come with the King of Fodlan's chambers."
Oh, good. That's less work for him to do. Taking up the fresh sheets, Garry tries to hide his sigh of relief. All the gossip really put him off schedule...
"Then I will simply continue replacing the sheets," he says, working as he talks - the only way anyone can get either thing done in this castle, sometimes. "Unless you have something else you need to have done? I suppose you did come out of your bath for a reason..." Garry doesn't really go into the king's bathing chamber that often; that's for people who can fiddle with and clean it a lot more expertly than he can. For things like a royal bathing chamber, that requires somewhat different skills.... and, from what he's heard, a whole day of dealing with it, to make sure it's in the perfect condition. He thinks there might even be magic involved, so that it's filled with water quicker?
It would sure be nice if that were a more common thing, but Garry knows that's a long shot in hell. Not only do most nobles seem to like having exclusive things like fancy bathing quarters, but Garry knows that it takes a lot of work for such a thing to come into being. Not only for architects, but also because it runs on magic. There just aren't enough mages to spare for that kind of thing.... Not with the kind of requirements that the school of sorcery in Fhirdiad requires.
From the corner of his eye, he watches King Khalid tilt his head from side to side again. It's all just a show, he's pretty sure. If he truly does need something, and it's important, then King Khalid doesn't really waste any time in bringing it up. Probably befitting of a king, he makes decisions pretty decisively. "I suppose there's nothing that really needs any attention," he says at long last. "But Dimitri is going to be fairly busy today, showing some one on one time with the others in my delegation, so I thought I would just bother someone else for a little bit of conversation. If you don't mind me bugging you while you work, at any rate."
Garry can't say he's worked for a lot of nobility, honestly. Even when his family's shop was still running smoothly, the highest their clientele ever went was maybe a particularly successful merchant. Yet it still feels refreshing, for someone like King Khalid to at least pretend to ask.
His own coworkers sometimes don't even bother with that level of courtesy. Just an hour earlier shows that much.
This probably won't be any harder than chatting with his coworkers, as a matter of fact. He can do that much. Sure, he doesn't really know noble etiquette or anything, but he's pretty sure that if King Khalid cared about what Faerghan noble etiquette looked like, he wouldn't be having a chat with a servant anyway. "If you'd like," he says, maneuvering around the massive bed so that he can tuck the sheets in properly. He doubts that King Dimitri would care if they were a little wrinkled or out of place, but what can Garry say? He's not going to do a crap job for someone he actually likes. "Although I'm not certain if I would have any interesting tales for a King of Almyra."
Tugging the robe around himself so that it's a little more secure, King Khalid makes his way over to one of the spare chairs that are sitting about. Probably it's just King Dimitri's robes making him look a tad smaller, but it almost seems as though he sinks right into one of those comfortably cushioned seats. Ah, to steal a nap in one of those... "Hey, don't sell yourself short!" King Khalidlaughs. "Why don't we start with everyone's impressions of the Almyran delegation so far? Even the bad. I gotta know what to cover, and you guys are the most important people in this whole thing."
More important than the king of a country? Than the many nobles and merchants watching this whole thing with bated breath? Garry rather doubts that. Still, while he understands his shut mouth is important for this relationship between the two kings, he feels that can't possibly be the explanation for why King Khalid speaks so sincerely to him during moments like this.
So Garry smiles back, hands smoothing out wrinkles, and says, "Well, if you're truly fine with any information at all..."
Back when there had first been talks of a visit from Almyra, his coworkers had been equal parts curious and concerned, with the exact ratio differing from person to person. For those naturally born from Faerghus, most were curious about a distant land that was the polar opposite to their own frigid mountains and snow. After all, while Almyra may have posed such a severe threat to unite three countries ages and ages ago... Those were often something akin to tales one's grandparents told, in some way. Who could be bothered about such things when Sreng was the more immediate threat to so many, or when they had their own internal war to stress about? Almyra was distant in the way that fairytales were distant - yes, maybe it applied to them at some point a long long time ago, but it wasn't real real.
The workers from the Leicester Alliance, of course, were more wary.... and Garry can't say that they're wrong about it. Since working in Fhirdiad Castle, he's ended up learning more about politics than he thought he actually would as a simple servant. A lot of it goes over his head, of course, with names or references to trade that don't affect the immediacies of his day to day life, but he's come to recognize some things. And he knows that, with their border being right up against Almyra, the old Leicester Alliance had to deal with the desert country a whole lot more than Faerghus did. A decade, almost, of skirmishes and clashes, up until the new king took the throne.
And those who used to be a part of the immense empire of Adrestia? It's hard for Garry to say, sometimes. Maybe it's because Adrestia ground up against more the distant and water-locked islands of places like Brigid, but he never got the feeling they really understood the feelings that came with places like Sreng for Faerghus, or Almyra for Leicester.
If anything... It's always felt to him like they were more likely to be at odds or grind against anyone from within Fodlan itself, rather than from out of it.
"Not that there's been any problem in the castle, of course," Garry says over his shoulder as he checks the stuffing of the pillows to make sure no feathers have poked through or that fabric has torn. "Even though everyone might have their flaws, there's been nothing so bad that it's lead to real issues. Just maybe a spat here or there. I think it helps that it's some of the younger generation, along with a good eye for picking out good personalities from the head butler and maid."