ODKO | Chapter 17

The documents that ultimately needed to reach the Knight Commander first had to pass through Jack—stationed inconveniently by the door.

Inevitably, anyone submitting paperwork to the secretary had to do so under Cayenne’s ever-watchful gaze.

Just like Rick Wyatt had a moment ago.

Most secretaries or aides worked from a separate office—a small adjacent room, at the very least. But here? This was an unorthodox—no, a radical setup.

Jack still wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Thinking back to what had just happened with Rick Wyatt, there were definite upsides to being positioned like this. But at the same time… being under the constant scrutiny of the Knight Commander?

Suffocating.

Why is the desk placed here?

The answer was obvious.

It was a position of surveillance.

And yet, voicing that opinion was out of the question.

Jack hadn’t yet earned Cayenne’s full trust.

So for now, he had no choice but to endure it.

“Is your face okay?”

Jack, who had just begun flipping through the documents Rick Wyatt had left behind, paused and looked up.

The voice had come from the desk, though Cayenne still had his head buried in the towering piles of paperwork.

Jack blinked.

Was he… worried?

A small twinge of emotion tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“It’s fine,” he replied, absently touching the bruise Rick had pointed out earlier.

The warmth of Cayenne’s concern lingered for only a second—

Until Cayenne lifted his head, frowned, and looked directly at him.

“Be careful with your behavior. Otherwise, I might get misunderstood.”

“…Yes.”

So that’s what he was worried about. Jack felt a wave of disappointment before he could fully savor the emotion—of course.

Due to the nature of a secretary who had to be constantly by the Commander’s side, a bruise on the face was enough to cause unpleasant misunderstandings. Of course, it wasn’t entirely without his own responsibility. The wound was a result of dodging Cayenne’s sword—one that came at him after he had said something he shouldn’t have, like, “I told you not to mess around!”—and subsequently hitting the corner of the desk.

It wasn’t a wound caused directly by being struck, but it wasn’t entirely Cayenne’s fault either, so there was nothing to resent. Even with his reckless words and actions, Cayenne, who had seemed genuinely shocked and flustered, hadn’t actually intended to kill him.

Still, would it hurt to show a bit more concern?

Jack thought to himself, feeling disappointed.

“Tea.”

Cayenne, having neatly wrapped up his interest there, buried his head back into the documents and uttered a short sound. Jack stood up with a “Yes.” Cayenne, who had already turned his gaze back to the documents, didn’t spare him a single glance. But sadly, Jack was slowly getting used to Cayenne’s attitude.

“Shall I serve you crimson petal tea?”

“Anything.”

Cayenne responded indifferently, flipping through the documents. Jack moved toward the small makeshift table on the opposite side of the desk, where the tea set rested. Thanks to the kettle—enchanted with fire magic to maintain a constant temperature—he didn’t have to worry about the water cooling. Yet, his mouth still went dry with nervousness.

Brewing tea made him more anxious than driving a sword into Viper’s head.

As he put the tea leaves into the teapot and poured the hot water, Jack began counting in his head. One minute and thirty seconds. One minute and thirty seconds… But it wasn’t easy to brew tea with precise timing when he wasn’t a human clock. Moreover, having joined the Knights’ Order at an early age, he could count on one hand the number of times he had brewed tea himself.

Carefully counting to one minute and thirty seconds, Jack transferred the brewed tea into a teacup. Placing the saucer and cup on a small tray, he walked over to Cayenne, his heart pounding.

Today—today for sure—he would receive a satisfying compliment.

Jack steeled his resolve, but the moment he set the teacup down on the desk with a “Tea,” Cayenne’s brows furrowed—as if on purpose.

“Crimson petal tea again?”

“…”

Jack invisibly clenched his fists. He couldn’t tell which lips had said “anything.” Jack, who was controlling his rising anger with a smile, watched as Cayenne, despite everything, obediently brought the tea to his lips.

“Did you brew the tea leaves or just soak them? How come there’s no aroma at all?”

After taking a sip, Cayenne clicked his tongue. Jack desperately tried to maintain a smiling face. The words “You make it!” almost burst from his throat, but it was impossible.

“I’ll… brew it again.”

“Forget it. Who asked you to go that far?”

Compared to the harassment from Rick Wyatt, it was nothing. It was nothing compared to the picky tastes of the world’s most finicky young master.

“I’ll just drink it as it is, so get back to work.”

It’s just water, water. Cayenne grumbled, pretending to be generous.

As Jack turned around with the empty tray, he clenched his fists, once again forcing himself to control his anger. Even with his back turned, he could still hear the grumbling.

“Did you count the tea leaves one by one or what? It’s not even the last of the leaves.”

The superior, who had said he would drink it as it was, continued to complain until the teacup was empty. At that point, it was genuinely questionable whether that even counted as drinking it as it was. Honestly, it might have been better for his mental health to just brew it again.

The young master, who claimed to do his own work, never actually did anything himself—except for official duties.

Hold it in, hold it in. Jack desperately tried to suppress the anger boiling inside him. At the very least, looking at that face made the irritation fade—so he endured.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

“My love!”

Bang!

Without warning, the door burst open. Startled, Jack Carlson sprang to his feet before he even realized it. Out of habit, his hand reached for his waist—only to grasp at nothing. His sword, which should have been strapped there, was missing. Damn it. His gaze darted around until he spotted it leaning against the desk. He grabbed it in a hurry, but by then, the uninvited guest—who had barged in without so much as a knock—had already crossed the Commander’s office and was standing right in front of Cayenne.

Cayenne, still seated at his desk, frowned and shot the intruder a menacing glare. His gaze was sharp enough to kill, but Jack was a step behind in processing the words the guest had just blurted out.

Something about it felt particularly irritating…

“Who are you? So rude…”

Jack, mixing quite a bit of anger into his movements, gripped his sword and followed after the intruder. Finally, the rude guest seemed to take notice of Jack’s presence, turned around, and let out a small exclamation.

“Ah… Are you the one who caught Viper and became our little bird’s secretary?”

The uninvited guest laughed heartily. He was a young man with bright blond hair and striking purple eyes. He appeared to be in his early thirties, with an exuberant expression and smooth, unblemished skin. Jack quickly deduced that this man was a high-ranking noble. After all, without such status, he wouldn’t dare to use expressions like “little bird” or “my love” when addressing a member of the Madison family.

“Hahaha! Nice to meet you! You’re taller and more handsome than I expected. I heard you were of common birth, but are you an Alpha? An Alpha? Wow, you’ve got a solid build. Well, of course, you’d need to be like this to catch Viper with your bare hands!”

The uninvited guest chattered on, his words tumbling out in an excited flurry as he scrutinized Jack from head to toe. He even measured Jack’s height with a hand blade, assessed his back, and went so far as to squeeze his arm.

Jack Carlson, accustomed to maintaining a low posture before those of higher status, felt a deep discomfort in more ways than one. The man’s rapid-fire speech contained plenty of words but not a single clue about his identity.

“Please don’t touch me.”

“Enough, Your Highness.”

Jack’s voice, laced with irritation from the unsolicited arm examination, overlapped with Cayenne’s sharp command. Jack’s grip on his sword tightened as his eyes widened—ready for anything.

“…Excuse me? Your Highness?”

Jack looked at Cayenne, thinking he had misheard. But Cayenne, with his brows tightly furrowed, nodded slightly, confirming that Jack had heard correctly. Huff, Jack’s hand, which had unconsciously inhaled, lost its strength. It was just luck that he didn’t drop the sword.

“Ah, I was late in introducing myself. I’m Shane Icarus. I’m the Crown Prince of this Empire.”

Haha, the Crown Prince laughed and grabbed Jack’s left hand, which wasn’t holding the sword, and shook it up and down at will. The intense handshake, which shook his whole body, made his mind feel like a mess.

“Knight Jack Carlson, I greet the Crown Prince of the great Empire…”

“Oh, forget the old-fashioned etiquette. I’m here as a friend of our little bird, not as the Crown Prince.”

Jack blinked in disbelief, then realized he wasn’t in a position to look at him properly. As he belatedly tried to lower his posture, the Crown Prince grabbed Jack’s arm and forcibly pulled him up.

“Could you stop using that ‘little bird’ expression…”

Sigh, Cayenne let out a long, deep sigh and rubbed his forehead. Cayenne’s gaze, filled with dissatisfaction and fatigue, stopped at the Crown Prince’s hand holding Jack’s arm.

“How long are you going to hold onto my secretary? If you have business, get on with it and leave.”

“Aww, our little bird is too prickly. Can’t I see your face if I don’t have business? It’s too heartless between us.”