The Outsider with Secrets

The training session had concluded. The knights wiped away sweat, drank water, and caught their breath. Hoche gave a polite bow and followed as Jack led him off the training grounds.

“Sorry for tossing a new job at you out of the blue,” Jack said as they walked through the corridors. There wasn’t the faintest trace of apology in his tone.

“So this is why you brought me here—to assign this duty?” Hoche asked once he flicked his gaze around, ensuring no one else could hear.

Jack smirked. “Nah. Though I thought it’d be fun if it ended up that way. Besides . . .” His eyes gleamed with mischief. “Seems like the princess took a liking to you.”

Despite what had happened, Charlotte had seemed unusually interested in him. Back at the training grounds, her peridot-green eyes had often flickered towards Hoche, laced with equal parts curiosity and unease.

Jack had noticed, of course. There was a quiet amusement in the way she tried—and failed—not to stare at this new mysterious knight too long.

“And what exactly am I supposed to say to that?” Hoche replied, unamused by Jack’s obvious teasing.

“Just stating facts. But tell me—had you never seen her before today?”

“I did, during the recent reception for the foreign duchess. But I only caught a glimpse of her, and she appeared entirely different.”

Jack let out a small laugh. “The green dress and tiara were just for show, ceremonial stuff. But that red bow and braid? That’s classic Lotte. You’d better get used to seeing it.”

Hoche nodded, but remained silent.

“Still, even if her outfit was unfamiliar to you . . .” Jack shifted his eyes toward him. “Wasn’t that a bit rash, coming from you? Drawing your sword on a girl you’ve never seen before?”

“You overestimate me,” Hoche replied without meeting his gaze.

“Do I?”

“I’m someone who judges others by appearances and draws my sword accordingly.”

Jack sensed a hint of defensiveness in his tone but chose not to press further. He wondered what danger such a strong man could perceive in such a delicate-looking princess.

“Well, it’s fortunate that Lotte forgave you. Our princess has a generous heart, doesn’t she?”

“Indeed . . .” Hoche’s response was simple, yet his voice carried a weight, as if he couldn’t believe his actions had been so easily pardoned.

“I know it doesn’t sit right with you. So, think of guarding her as penance for your misunderstanding. But you shouldn’t have to fight any suspicious individuals during the task. Well, it might be a bit busy with the festival preparations, but I’m sure you’ll manage.”

“Understood.” Hoche’s expression remained unreadable as he nodded.

Jack peered into Hoche’s face, still smiling. “Hey, I’m curious—what do you think of her?”

Hoche gave him a wary glance. “What do you mean by that?”

“Anything. Just your impressions.”

“It’s not my place to comment on royalty.”

“Come on, we’re past formalities here. But if you don’t want to answer, that’s fine.”

It wasn’t an order. Jack didn’t push. He didn’t have to answer. Yet, before Hoche seemed to even realize he was speaking, the words slipped out.

“She has beautiful eyes. Like gemstones.”

Jack blinked, momentarily thrown. For a heartbeat, a hint of surprise crossed Hoche’s face. But it disappeared before Jack could pin it down, retreating behind those cold blue eyes set in a face that bore no trace of tenderness.

Jack let out a thoughtful hum. “Poetic of you.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.” Though his expression remained the same, there was a subtle edge to his voice.

Jack chuckled. “Either way—it’s a pretty vivid image. Gemstones, huh . . .” He tilted his head. “Have you actually seen one up close?”

“ . . . Yes.”

Hoche’s response came slower than usual. Jack noticed it but didn’t press. “Well, then. We’ll head into the town after breakfast tomorrow,” Jack said with a grin. “I hope you’ll grow fond of this job.”

“I follow orders. That’s all.” With a formal bow, Hoche turned and walked down the hallway toward his quarters.

Jack watched him go, sighing at his frosty demeanor. As he made his way to the Knight Commander’s office, Jack mentally rehearsed the reports he needed to finish. The moment he pushed open the heavy oak door, a sharp voice cracked through the air.

“Jack! Finally!”

Chancellor Edmund stood in front of the huge desk for the commander, red-faced and fuming. His pristine robes looked absurd in a room filled with swords, armor, books, and half-finished enchantment tools. He opened his arms to welcome Jack, but in one hand, he held a crumpled bundle of papers.

“Oh. Ed, you could’ve waited sitting down.”

“And where, pray tell, is there a chair available for visitors in this cluttered mess?” Edmund pointed to a wooden chair nearby, piled high with sun-bleached books.

Jack shrugged and picked up the books, but Edmund didn’t sit in the chair. Jack spoke as he moved around the room, shuffling books back into uneven stacks. “So, Ed . . . what’s the matter? If it’s about the recent mission report, it’s almost done. I’ve heard rumors of a sorcerer operating in that region—”

“That’s not important right now! You know damn well why I’m here!” Edmund slammed his fist onto the desk, sending a crystal rolling off and papers fluttering to the floor. Jack pushed all the books onto the shelf and began gathering the papers up.

“This is about Hoche, isn’t it?” Jack asked.

“Hoche—if that’s even his real name!”

“It is.”

Edmund let out a sarcastic laugh. “You, of all people, know how easy it is to hide behind a false name, don’t you?” He glared at Jack accusingly.

Aware of this, Jack scratched his head. “Yeah, but I can tell that it’s his name. Real name. And you know I can,” he added as he tapped the side of his head, hinting at his unusual intuition—something Edmund knew all too well.

Edmund clenched his teeth, irritation sharp in the air. “With all that strength and capability, why is it you still fail to grasp the weight of responsibility that comes with ruling a nation?”

“Strong or not, the truth is, a fancy title like knight commander was never meant for someone like me.” Jack shrugged. “But I’ve been allowed to do things my own way. Thanks to solid men at my side—like Vice-Commander Alistair, and you, Ed.” He punctuated the thought with a playful wink.

For a beat, Edmund looked exasperated, then shook his head. “Spare me the flattery! That’s not what matters right now—it’s him. Hoche! He’s strange, and you know it!”

With those words, he slammed the papers in his hand—answers to Hoche’s Knights’ enrollment test—onto the desk. The handwriting was as smooth and refined as any nobleman’s script. Every visible question bore the mark of a correct answer. Jack knew there had been one question Hoche had missed—but Edmund didn’t notice it.

“I went to check these immediately after you made that insane proposal. And what do I find? This beautiful penmanship . . . combined with this breadth of knowledge . . . These aren’t skills acquired by some commoner! I wasn’t told we’d brought such a suspicious character into the kingdom—you said you were protecting some injured homeless boy found in the forest!” Edmund’s voice rose again, carried by a mixture of frustration and concern. He looked like a man cornered by his own logic, chased by questions he couldn’t answer.

Jack took the half-repaired sword that had been left sitting on the desk and propped it up against the wall. “You’re not wrong,” he admitted.

“Then we should lock him up, or kick him out of this castle, not place him beside the princess!” Edmund’s voice cracked. “What if he’s a spy? An assassin? From another country, no less!”

“Sure, he’s suspicious, but he’d have to be a complete fool if he were here to mean harm to Lotte or this kingdom. He doesn’t even try to blend in—doesn’t care if people get suspicious. And if his goal was to win Lotte over, there’s no way he would’ve pulled a sword on her the moment they met—”

“What did you just say?!”

“Ah—never mind that. The point is . . . he has to obey me. And has no real choice not to.”

Edmund frowned at the way Jack said it, his brow knitting with unease. Jack, too, felt the bitterness of his own words linger on his tongue—like a sentence pronounced by a tyrant, or the master of a chained man.

Jack picked up a worn quill that had rolled onto the table and twirled it between his fingers. “If I told him to gouge out his own eye, he’d do it,” he said, looking at the point of the nib.

Or to die—he didn’t say it aloud, but the weight of it hung in the air.

Edmund exhaled sharply, forcing down his unease. “That’s absurd.”

“Want to try it?” Jack asked, holding out the quill toward him, its feathered end aimed as a silent dare.

The metal nib gleamed like a blade. And both men knew that in the right hands, it could be just as cruel, just as deadly.

Edmund shuddered. “Only a monster would try something so grotesque.”

Jack chuckled, “Then I’m glad you’re not one.” With a flick of his wrist, he returned the quill to its inkwell.

“You haven’t answered me,” Edmund said. “Why place someone like that next to her?”

“She’s needed a real guard for a long time.” Jack bent down and picked up the milky-green crystal that had fallen to the ground. “Our knights have gotten much stronger, but do we have anyone with the knowledge to escort a princess? The festival preparations will begin in earnest soon. There will be days when she’s walking the streets from dawn to dusk. Do you honestly think a retired knight could protect her if someone truly meant her harm?”

Edmund fell silent, tightening his jaw.

“Lotte is kind . . . too kind, maybe. If anyone can get through to him, it’s her. And besides . . .”

“Besides, what?”

Jack raised both his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t get mad, okay?” He picked up the mug—one he’d brewed that morning and never touched. He averted Edmund’s gaze, looking out at the castle garden below. The young flowers swayed gently in the breeze, oblivious to the tension inside the walls.

“I want him to know that cruelty, greed, and bloodshed do not define this world. That not everyone is heartless.”

It wasn’t the garden he saw anymore, but the shadows of his own past.

Edmund stared. “And you’re gambling the princess’s safety to fix that.”

“That’s why I keep telling you—he won’t disobey.” Jack brought the mug up to his lips, the weariness on his shoulders more telling than his words.

“But . . . he’s still a man!” Edmund barked.

Jack choked on a sip of the now-cold tea. “Wait—what?” He coughed violently, setting the mug down with a thud. “I mean, yeah, obviously he’s a man . . . there’s no denying it.”

“That’s exactly the problem!” Edmund snapped. “He may look calm and expressionless, but what if he develops improper thoughts about the princess?”

Jack raised a hand. “Whoa, whoa, Ed—calm down. I get what you’re saying, but if that’s your concern, then Hoche is probably the least of our worries. That man has no desires. Hell, I don’t even think he has the will to have some fun, let alone lust after someone . . .”

“Jack, this isn’t a joke!”

“I know, I know.” Jack sobered; his expression changed into a more serious one. “If anything suspicious happens, I’ll pull him off duty. Immediately.” He looked into Edmund’s eyes, placed his hand over his heart, and bowed his head. “But please. Just . . . give him a chance. Like you did to me.”

The words were simple, but the weight behind them was real.

Edmund stared down at Jack’s bowed head, then sighed, his expression twisting between distrust and reluctant concession.

“I may not trust him, but if Her Highness says she does, I’ll have to respect that.” He muttered the words under his breath as he turned toward the door. “But mark my words—if that man harms Her Highness in any way, I will show no mercy. I don’t trust outsiders . . . except for those who’ve proven themselves through their actions.”

“That’s fair enough. Thanks, Ed.” Jack straightened with a grin and threw his arms open theatrically. “Besides, I was an outsider once, yet here I am, your favorite Knight Commander.”

“Shut up, you damn fool!”

With a sharp bang, he slammed the door. The force rattled the room, sending a stack of books tumbling to the floor in a dusty heap. Elsewhere, a sword propped against the wall clattered to the ground, bringing a shield and a polearm down with it in a clanging chorus.

Jack just stared at the mess and gave a bitter smile. He sank deep into the chair, slipping a hand into his coat pocket. His fingers searched for a moment before closing around something cold.

When he drew it out, a pendant lay in his palm—a serpent coiled around a blood-red ruby, its fanged maw frozen in a silent snarl. The same red stones gleamed in its eyes, though a thin crack ran through the one on the right.

He traced its scales with a thumb, trying to understand the man who had once created it.

Even in the gentle warmth of spring, the crimson gem and the serpent’s eyes radiated malice—an energy that did not belong in sunlight.

His narrowed gray eyes lingered on it, but now the serpent claimed by no one, and it revealed none of its secrets.

“Let’s see if this ends in fortune or ruin,” he whispered to the empty room.