ODKO | Chapter 20

When Jack fell silent, lost in thought, Cayenne turned around to check Jack’s expression. Reading the complex emotions on Jack’s face, Cayenne let out a light laugh.

“What? If it’s true, it’s true, and if it’s not, it’s not. Why do you look like someone caught in a trap?”

“…I was seriously wondering if it was a trap.”

“What kind of person do you think I am? Someone who throws out a topic just to catch you off guard?”

“……”

Jack couldn’t bring himself to answer, so he chose silence. Cayenne raised an eyebrow at Jack’s honest reaction and let out a sigh.

“This is a serious misunderstanding. I was just asking. Shane… no, the Crown Prince has been like that forever. Most people who meet him for the first time in private have a similar reaction.”

“Do you call others ‘little bird‘ or ‘darling‘ too?”

“He’s particularly strange with me. When we first met, I fell from a tree, and I guess that left a strong impression on him. He keeps calling me ‘little bird‘ ever since. He’s crazy.”

Cayenne stretched his arms, as if exhausted from the rare outing. Jack found himself staring intently at Cayenne’s pale face, softened by the evening glow.

‘Little bird…’ If one focused solely on his neat and strikingly beautiful face, the nickname might seem fitting. But considering his height—nearly equal to Jack’s—and his solid build, Cayenne Madison was less of a delicate songbird and more like a sharp-eyed bird of prey with an elegant exterior.

…Which means the Crown Prince must have first met Cayenne when he was still quite young, Jack mused. It seemed their connection had existed long before Cayenne joined the White Knights Order.

“Does His Highness know?”

“Know what?”

“About your… secret, Commander.”

Jack instinctively changed the word he was about to use—“Omega”—to something else. Even though he was certain they were alone in the corridor, it never hurt to be cautious.

He had a feeling Cayenne might get angry if he asked, but curiosity got the better of him. Carefully choosing his words, Jack spoke cautiously, his gaze fixed on Cayenne, studying his reaction.

Cayenne, who had been stretching his neck, blinked expressionlessly.

“What kind of answer are you expecting?”

“…Pardon?”

Jack involuntarily asked again. He had expected a simple yes or no, so Cayenne’s unexpected counter-question caught him off guard.

“If I say yes, are you going to comfort yourself thinking you’re the only one who knows my secret? And if I say no, are you going to get jealous?”

“……”

Jack nearly halted in his tracks.

Cayenne’s sharp, almost dagger-like counter-question had struck so precisely that Jack couldn’t find a single word in response. He prided himself on never being easily outmaneuvered in conversations, but this sharp retort—one fitting for a commander capable of handling even the Crown Prince’s maddening way of speaking—left him with no choice but to keep his mouth shut.

“Forget it. I told you to pretend it never happened. This is not advice; it’s a warning. You don’t need to wonder who else knows. It should be something you don’t know either.”

The man who had gone so far as to release Viper and make Jack his secretary—just to prevent that unknown fact from spreading—spoke as if it were nothing.

Jack forced the corners of his mouth into a meaningless smile, a faint bitterness settling in his chest.

“That wasn’t my intention. Anyway, someone of my lowly origin has no…”

“Hey.”

Jack tried to quicken his slowing steps, but Cayenne suddenly came to a halt. The sharp edge in his unexpectedly low and harsh tone made Jack look up at him.

Cayenne, who had just moments ago worn a relaxed expression—lazily poised like a cat in the red shadows—was now glaring at him, his gaze razor-sharp. It was unclear what had set him off this time.

“I warned you not to lower yourself like that.”

Jack was momentarily speechless at Cayenne’s openly displeased expression and tone.

He thought back to the times when Rick Wyatt used to come and go—when Cayenne had furiously snapped, ‘Who was born a noble?’ But even recalling that didn’t make Cayenne’s anger any easier to understand.

“I’m just stating facts without lowering myself. You’re the one who drew the line, saying I’m not in your league for emotional games.”

“Are you stupid? Why does that have to turn into a discussion about origins?”

Cayenne let out a sarcastic laugh at Jack’s somewhat aggrieved protest. Jack couldn’t help but make a dissatisfied face himself. If it’s not about origins and ranks, then what does it mean?

“You don’t seem to fully understand what it means to become my secretary. If I wanted, I could give you a noble title anytime. People don’t bow to our family for no reason.”

“Of course, I know that.”

But you’re not going to make me a noble, are you? The words got stuck in his throat. He was worried that saying it would make him seem like a greedy person with ulterior motives for a noble title.

“……?”

Jack was momentarily confused.

Saying he had no desire for a noble title would be a lie. But he wasn’t the kind of person who sought status through sheer opportunism—someone who would latch onto a prestigious family without effort or justification. That wasn’t who he was.

So how had the conversation ended up like this?

All he did was acknowledge the fact that he was a commoner, while the other was a noble among nobles. And yet, somehow, the conclusion had twisted into him being an unashamed opportunist.

“I’m not particularly trying to impress you to get a noble title.”

He felt like he had fallen into another trap. Jack thought for a moment before struggling to defend himself.

“Who said you were?”

Cayenne asked bluntly. Jack almost replied, ‘You did.’ But he chose silence, and Cayenne clicked his tongue in frustration.

“I’m telling you not to belittle yourself by getting caught up in trivial things like being a commoner or a noble.”

“……”

Jack had to close his mouth again. Was this a conversation or not? He wondered if it was just his imagination that the conversation seemed to be going in circles.

“Then what did you mean by talking about ‘league’ that day?”

“What do you think it means? I meant it literally. I’m already busy enough; I can’t afford to keep going back and forth with you about that day’s incident. Do you think a Knight Commander has time for that?”

Cayenne casually shrugged his shoulders and spoke. To describe Jack’s feelings, it was like being hit on the back of the head with a blunt object. Jack looked at Cayenne with a dumbfounded expression.

“…The literal meaning is… very different.”

“What’s different? Don’t treat me like someone who divides people by origin. It’s unpleasant.”

Jack felt dazed.

It was a shame he couldn’t share this conversation with a third party. Who else could possibly interpret “league” as “I’m busy, so I can’t engage in long discussions”? Was Cayenne really the one who should be feeling unpleasant here? Jack was genuinely baffled.

He did feel a slight bitterness, but he had never truly belittled his own origins. Yet, just as Cayenne was upset about being treated as someone who divided people by birth, Jack was just as frustrated about being seen as someone who denied his own.

At this point, they might as well just hand him a noble title.

“Let’s take a break.”

Cayenne ran a hand through his hair and let out a deep sigh, his gaze settling on a bench in the garden beyond the corridor.

Jack, still lost in a swirl of complicated and unfair thoughts, unconsciously followed. He had habitually responded with a “Yes,” trailing behind Cayenne—only to suddenly find himself faced with an entirely new realization.

Wait… if the talk about ‘league’ wasn’t about social status, does that mean there’s hope…?

His mouth went dry at the thought, and he instinctively turned to stare at Cayenne.

But the moment his eyes landed on him—slumped on the bench, collar loosened, his complexion pale—the excitement in Jack’s chest vanished without a trace.

“…? Are you feeling unwell?”

Cayenne’s face—already pale, as if it had never known sunlight—had turned so white that even the warm hues of the sunset couldn’t mask it. Just moments ago, he had looked perfectly fine.

“I’m fine.”

Cayenne spoke, but his complexion was anything but fine. Jack was startled by the sudden change in his condition. The chamberlain of the Madison family and the Crown Prince had both mentioned more than once that Cayenne wasn’t in good health, but for him to look this unwell after just a short walk… wasn’t this a bit excessive?

“Are you dizzy?”

Though Cayenne was trying to hold himself together, his focus seemed to waver slightly.

Jack stepped closer, knelt before him, and carefully examined his face. His brows furrowed as he took in Cayenne’s pallor.

Cayenne, displeased by Jack’s lowered posture, frowned.

“Don’t come too close…”

“Where exactly are you feeling unwell?”

Cayenne, who had been slumping slightly—perhaps from dizziness—found himself caught by Jack’s concerned gaze.

The hand he had unconsciously grabbed was ice-cold. The evening breeze was cooler than it had been during the day, but not nearly cold enough to chill someone like this. It wasn’t the weather—his body itself was unwell, his temperature dropping from within.