Guide and Guard behind the Light

Charlotte sighed inwardly as she glanced at the silent knight trailing behind her. He was still glaring at every single person within a 100-foot radius.

She shook her head. Sure, he might be a little overprotective…Okay, more than a little. Maybe a lot. But she believed—if he got to know the city better, he’d come to understand that this wasn’t a grim battlefield. After all, it was only his first day on the job. To expect him to blend in like a seasoned local would be too much.

With a soft exhale, she turned on her heel, her golden hair catching the light as she pivoted to face him.

Hoche asked, “Is something the matter, Your Highness?”

“Hoche, have you ever been to the city before?”

“No, I have not.”

“Then let me show you around today, just for fun. No duties. No inspections.”

A flicker of hesitation passed over his otherwise stoic features. “But… we came here for official business, did we not?”

“It’s fine,” Charlotte said, waving a hand as if brushing away his concern. “Today’s more like a casual visit. Jack? That’s alright, isn’t it?”

Jack flashed a lopsided grin and gave an exaggerated bow. “As our princess commands, so shall we obey.”

Hoche inclined his head in solemn agreement, and that was all Charlotte needed. With a bright smile, she set off down the town’s stone path, her two guardians trailing after her.

At the city’s heart, a circular road wrapped around the center like a ring, from which streets radiated outward, lined with homes and shops, almost like the roots of a tree. Right in the center stood a massive tree said to be bonded with the Mother Tree itself—a symbol of life and unity, its branches sheltering the square like protective arms.

“That’s a graft of the Mother Tree,” Charlotte said, pointing to it with pride. “There’s one in the castle too, though not as large as this one. But the original, deep in the forest—it’s massive.”

She glanced over at Hoche, who stood silently beside her, his blue eyes fixed on the tree.

“The forest is full of enchantment,” she continued. “It’s easy to get lost if you don’t know the way. But during the royal rites, the nobility and the knights all accompany us as escorts. Maybe you’ll get to see it then.”

“…I see,” he replied.

They stood in silence for a moment, gazing up at the great tree. Then, from behind them, a familiar voice rang out.

“Princess! Good morning! Oh my—who’s this stern-faced knight? Did the royal armory run out of smiles?”

Charlotte turned with a smile. “Hello, Hanna. This is Hoche—he’s my new escort.”

Hanna, the middle-aged optician who ran the little shop near the square, stepped closer and peered up at him while adjusting her big, thick glasses.

“Well, aren’t you a blessing. Though you might want to ease up on the glare, folks are starting to wonder if you were raised by gargoyles.”

She paused, eyes twinkling with mischief—then brightened as if struck by inspiration.

“…Or maybe… you just need a good pair of spectacles? Come by my shop, I’ll sort you out in no time!”

“I assure you,” Hoche said with a bow, “my vision is perfectly adequate.”

Charlotte let out a chuckle. Jack laughed aloud.

As they continued through the market, townsfolk came to greet her—farmers, shopkeepers, children—and Charlotte spoke with them all.

They mainly spoke to her about the arrival of spring and... how much they were looking forward to the flower festival after five long years.

An elderly woman pressed a handkerchief to the corners of her eyes. "Your Highness, I'm overjoyed that I'm still alive to witness the flower festival."

"Oh, please don't say such things..." Charlotte took her hand, comforting.

"If Your Highness's magic adorns this city, surely Her Majesty the Queen and His Majesty the King Consort, who watch over us, must be proud of you..."

At her words, Charlotte caught her breath... then quietly let it out.

"Yes, that's right... I must do my best..."

She asked about spring crops, the snowmelt, and safety patrols. She listened. She laughed. So did the townfolks.

Hoche observed quietly. So did Jack, with a calm smile on his face.

Even when small children came running up with a bright, “It’s the princess!”, Hoche nearly reacted—but managed to hold himself back this time.

“Princess, I’ve been tending to my Moonlit Blossom for five whole years!” said a florist’s daughter Charlotte knew well, her face alight with joy. “You’ll see, my flower is going to bloom more beautifully than any other!”

“I’m looking forward to it, Lily.” She smiled and nodded. Just then, another young girl darted forward and tugged at her hand.

“Princess, I read that you have magical glass slippers! The witch gave them to you, right?”

“Hmm…” Charlotte wore a playful smile. “I don’t have glass slippers, actually.”

The girls gasped. “Then you’re not really a princess?!”

“I suppose I’m a glass-slipper-less princess,” She said with a wink.

She knelt to speak with the sparkling-eyed children and waved as they ran off again, giggling.

Hoche said nothing. He simply watched.

Such progress, Charlotte thought, rising to her feet with a soft smile. …Maybe things really would be just fine after all.

They began walking again, as she spoke of seasonal festivals and fountains, of rivers that shimmered like silver ribbons—without meaning to, she glanced to her side.

And stopped.

Hoche wasn't watching the city—but her. His eyes held hers with quiet, relentless intensity. As though he had never once looked away.

Her heart gave a startled leap in her chest.

“A-ahm…” she managed, voice higher than she intended.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“I… Is there something on my face?” she asked, trying to sound light, but failing to mask the heat rising to her cheeks.

“No, you look just as you should,” he replied.

“Then why… were you looking at me like that?”

“Because it’s my duty to guard you. And in a place where anything might happen, my focus cannot waver. That includes watching you at all times.”

Charlotte blinked, stunned by the honesty, the certainty in his voice.

“Wait… so you mean, the whole time we’ve been walking around… you’ve just been staring at me?”

“Yes,” he said. “I scan the environment as necessary, but I will not take my eyes off you unless the situation demands it.”

Her face flared red. Like the color of the bow she was wearing.

Before she could say a word, Jack let out a quiet snort of laughter.

“Easy, Lotte. He’s just doing his job, remember?”

“I-I know that!” she snapped, flustered. “It’s just… his eyes are very—noticeable, that’s all!”

“I see,” Hoche said matter-of-factly. “Please, think nothing of it. Consider me a shadow. I will be there, just behind you. Whether you turn to see me or not.”

Charlotte almost tripped over her own feet.

“Oh, come on…” Jack gave Hoche a mildly exasperated look.

“Is something the matter?” He tilted his head, clearly puzzled by their reactions.

A shadow, she thought, pressing a hand to her chest to quiet her racing heart. Is that supposed to be reassuring?

But she refused to give Jack the satisfaction of seeing her flustered further. So instead, she turned her head sharply away, pretending to admire a bakery display.

Still… even with her back to him, she could feel it now. That unwavering gaze. She was far too aware of the closeness of their steps, the way his presence was always just at the edge of her senses—silent, steady, and impossibly near. A warmth spread to the tips of her ears.

She tried to shake the feeling, focusing instead on her surroundings—the colorful awnings of the marketplace, the chatter of townsfolk, the flutter of laundry on the lines above. Anything but the pressure of those watchful eyes.

They turned a corner—and suddenly, she noticed a savory aroma rolling toward them. Roasted pork, kissed by flame and sprinkled with herbs. Her steps slowed without meaning to, her senses immediately drawn to the source. Her stomach gave a quiet, timely protest.

But she couldn’t just run toward the food like some common girl at a fair. In her mind, the sharp voice of her etiquette tutor, Vanellope, snapped like a whip: You mustn’t display hunger. A lady must remain composed!

Still, her gaze drifted toward the vendor. He spotted her instantly. “Princess! A bit early for lunch, isn’t it?”

“Hi, David,” she said, smiling. “How’s business?”

“Booming! People love our new recipe! Now, would you like to try some?” He held up a single skewer, the pork glistening in the sun.

“Oh, well, I shouldn’t…” she said, even as her eyes betrayed her.

“Don’t be shy! Come on, just one bite!”

David stepped forward and offered the skewer.

Charlotte stepped forward to accept it—smiling, grateful, her hand reaching out—

Snatch.

A blur of motion. The skewer vanished from between them.

Hoche’s hand held it now, steady and firm.

"W-What are you doing, sir?! I was just offering—!”

"Hoche!? But you said—"

The vendor—David, and Charlotte spoke at once, voices overlapping in confusion. But Hoche remained expressionless as he answered.

"As per your orders, I will not indiscriminately remove those who approach the princess."

He paused, then continued without a hint of emotion.

"However, I cannot ignore her consuming something handed over by a stranger. It may be poisoned."

“P-p-p-Poison?!” David turned pale. “Sir, I would never do such a thing!”

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Hoche, you can’t say things like that out loud!”

Jack let out a long sigh. “And here we go again…”

“Do you know how bad that sounds?!” David wailed, ripping the headband from his brow. “I’ve been cooking here for twenty years! And yet, you dare to speak of— !”

She tried to calm him down. “Yes, David, I know you’ve been here for a long time—forgive him, he doesn’t mean it like that!”

“Correction,” Hoche said, “I did mean it like that.”

“Just—just stop talking!” Charlotte whispered through clenched teeth.

“Alright, alright, give me that,” Jack said wearily, plucking the skewer from Hoche’s hand. With a nonchalant shrug, he took a bite.

“Mm. Not poisoned.” He turned to David and offered a grin. “Good flavor, too. I’ll take three.”

David blinked. “Uh… thank you, sir…?”

Charlotte buried her face in her hands. “This is a disaster…”

Jack patted her on the shoulder with his free hand, holding three skewers in his other hand. “Relax, Lotte. This is all part of the process.”

“Process?” she muttered. “What process?”

“Yep. Phase one: Unleash the terrifying steel automaton. Phase two: Apologize to everyone and hope they forgive us.”

“Is there a phase three?”

“Eventually convince them he’s not that bad.”

“…And phase four?”

“We all survive. Or we get banned from the city.”

She groaned again. Louder.

Behind them, Hoche stood silently—but his gaze never left her. Watching. Waiting. Protecting the princess, as he was commanded.

Too much. Too well. And far, far too cold.