If one word had to be used to describe the immediate days before and after Jackson joined Mark’s royal guard, it would be ‘awkward’. Jackson wasn’t at all completely at ease with how things had unfolded. He had been woken up from a daze brought on by hunger, given bread and even pieces of meat which was utter luxury, had his wounds tended to once again and was even given a set of clean clothes. As soon as he was presentable, he had been taken to Captain Paul who informed him of the change in his duties. The squire was bewildered to say the least for he had been disqualified and had accepted, though unwillingly so, that he would no longer be able to serve the prince. To suddenly hear that he would report to the prince in a couple of days was confusing. What made it worse was his Captain’s answer to Jackson’s question.

Why? Jackson had blurted out, unable to comprehend what was happening.

Because the prince and we captains deem you worthy of that duty, his Captain had said.

Jackson wished he hadn’t heard that.

The very reason Jackson had accepted his punishment without complaint and even his fate of being kicked out of the castle was that he had failed to protect Mark. He could not understand why they overlooked his grave mistake. He had been the one to yank the dagger through the air. He had been the one to mar the prince’s body with an ugly bleeding gash on the prince’s arm.

However, a command was a command so though Jackson was riddled with guilt, he found himself standing outside Mark’s study waiting to officially meet the prince as a new member of his royal guard. Swallowing, he dipped his head to take a deep breath. He had decided to tell the prince that this was a mistake. He was not fit to for that responsibility. At least, that was what Jackson planned to say though inwardly, Jackson was refusing this duty for another reason. What irked and gnawed at the squire most was that he did not want the prince’s pity. He didn’t want the prince to give him this position just to make Jackson feel better. There seemed to be no other explanation for the sudden change and it was the last thing Jackson wanted because to receive the prince’s kindness in this form destroyed any pride Jackson might have had in his meagre life.

Mark’s order to enter shook Jackson out of his thoughts. He lifted his right hand to the door’s latch and in the process, caught sight of the dark blue ribbon that adorned his sleeve. Blue. The colour of the prince. Jackson had dreamed countless of times how happy and proud he would feel to wear that colour. He had thought he’d be ecstatic but now the strip of blue cloth weighed down his arm and his spirit. Downcast, he entered the prince’s study with a deep bow.

“Your royal highness,” greeted Jackson before standing up though his eyes never rose above Mark’s feet where the prince was sitting at his table.

Mark had actually been anticipating this moment. He had allowed himself to imagine Jackson’s happy countenance, proudly announcing that he would now be able to officially serve Mark. He had imagined that there would be a skip in Jackson’s stride with a wide grin plastered on Jackson’s face, a grin of promise for their coming days.

Not this.

Mark could tell by Jackson’s voice that the squire was disheartened. The way Jackson had walked in to stand at attention felt reluctant in every way. Feeling unreasonably disappointed and even slightly aggravated at Jackson’s behaviour, the prince broke the gloomy silence that had descended on his study.

“Jackson,” the prince started to say but then Mark paused. What was he supposed to say? Congratulations did not seem to suit either the occasion or atmosphere.

“Yes, your royal highness?” There it was again – that dull tone of voice that had nothing of the spark that was Jackson.

Deciding to cut to the chase, Mark chose to comment, “You do not look happy.” Mark was careful to keep his voice neutral, voicing his remark as if he were commenting on the weather.

“No,” Jackson said, hesitating a moment, “No, I’m not, your royal highness.” Jackson clenched his hands behind his back to keep control of his words and feelings that were threatening to overcome his composure at Mark’s seemingly flippant comment. The prince should know full well why Jackson wasn’t happy. He didn’t want this.

Not like this.

“Why?” asked Mark, feeling his shoulders tense in apprehension.

“Your royal highness, I,-” Jackson tried to say before the chaos in his thoughts prevented any further coherence. He wanted to explain so many things but really, it wasn’t his place to do that. Mark was a prince. A prince had no reason to listen to the emotional turmoil of a squire. Biting his lower lip to keep impending self-pity at bay, Jackson happened to look up only for a while to see the prince’s eyes were scrutinizing his every movement. It only served to unnerve Jackson even more. This won’t do. He should just say what he had prepared to say and leave.

“I regret to say that I shall not join your royal guard,” announced Jackson with glum finality. It took him a lot to say it but Jackson was convinced it was the right thing to do.

Mark hid his shock. He realised he was missing something, something important. There were many things that Jackson wasn’t telling him. And he didn’t like it.

“Explain,” came Mark’s command.

Jackson inhaled deeply, gathering the remnants of his will to meet the prince’s enquiring gaze. “I do not deserve the honour, your royal highness. I failed to protect you from harm. I-”

Mark could barely absorb what Jackson had just said. All his reasons were too reminiscent of the meeting he had had with the captains and the argument he had put forth regarding Jackson’s appointment still held. How could the squire fail to see that he had protected Mark? Perhaps he was too blinded by his guilt to consider the matter from a different perspective or take into account other reasons for Mark’s actions. If that were the case, Mark would make him see sense.

“So you think I have made the wrong decision?” the prince asked.

“Yes, your royal highness.”

“So you’re neglecting the fact that you fought off five men on your own which not many other squires could have done?” questioned the prince, his tone beginning to get agitated. “You choose to forget that I had a dagger at my throat yet the result of that predicament is only a scratch on my arm? You are no fool, Jackson Wang. You know you are a skilled fighter and based on ability alone, you are deserving. Unless,” a thought had occurred to Mark as he was speaking, “unless your refusal is not about your ability.”

Mark watched Jackson cringe. Throughout Mark’s questions, Jackson had not reacted yet here he was, finally giving a telltale sign that Mark had obviously touched on some form of truth.

“Tell me the honest reason for your choice, Jackson Wang. The truth.” This Mark said in full authority as a prince. It was an order and Jackson knew it.

“I do not want this position because of pity, your royal highness,” answered Jackson with the merest trace of petulance. It was the absolute truth and try as he might, Jackson could not keep the slight accusation from showing in his voice. For some reason, Jackson could not help but feel degraded. It was as if Mark was lording the power he had as prince over him, that what Jackson had worked for every waking moment could be handed so easily to him on a silver platter. It just served as a reminder that the disparity between them was too great. All this while, Jackson had always born in mind that Mark was a prince and he was a mere squire but Jackson had treasured the relationship he had with the prince for never had he felt Mark belittle him or treat him without respect. Until this happened.

Mark blinked, taken aback by Jackson’s response. “Pity?” echoed the prince, “You think I selected you out of pity?”

“You pitied me because I was punished,” Jackson said begrudgingly. “You knew I wanted it so you ordered the place be given to me to make me feel better.”

“So,” said Mark, his fingers gripping the arms of his chair, fingernails digging into the wood before he could continue in a low voice that trembled with growing indignation, “You think my actions were guided by pity? You think I gave you the position because I felt sorry for you? You think that I, as a prince, abused my power to make you feel better? That I did it on a whim?”

Mark rose to stand, drawing himself to his full height, “What if I tell you, Jackson Wang,” continued Mark, a growl entering his tone, “that I chose you because I have observed your behaviour? That I chose you after giving serious thought about the best candidate for my guard? That I valued your character enough to make that choice? That I chose you not out of pity but out of trust?”

Jackson felt like he had been punched in his gut. Did he understand the prince correctly? It wasn’t because of pity but because the prince believed in him? Trusted him? Never would that thought have crossed Jackson’s mind because… well, simply because he had not believed the prince would have much if any regard for a lowly squire like him.

“Y-your highness,” stammered Jackson, his head whirling as he tried to get his mind around the implications of what Mark was saying.

Mark, however, was not done. Apart from Jackson’s accusations that Mark had acted out of pity, he was angry that Jackson placed himself at such low value. So low that it had never occurred to the squire that Mark valued him as a person, as a friend, valued him enough now to trust him with his life. And yet, here the squire was, only attributing Mark’s actions to something akin to kindness. “Are you questioning my sense of judgment? Are you questioning my evaluation of your character?” Mark railed on, cheeks flushing as his blood boiled hotter.

“No, your highness! No, no I’m not trying to, I didn’t mean. I-I just never-” cried Jackson lost in his words. He immediately sank on one knee, his left arm folded behind his back while his right pressed across his chest with his palm above his heart, “Please forgive your servant, your royal highness. Please forgive my poor conduct. Please forgive my thoughtless words,” pleaded Jackson, “Please forgive me, please, I beg you!” He had been so wrong about the prince and this entire situation. He had utterly and stupidly misunderstood everything the prince had done. He had tinted every kindness the prince had shown him all this while with a veil of self-centredness, so self-absorbed and blind that he hadn’t thought about Mark.

Jackson’s contrite and heartfelt pleas soothed Mark’s anger. He could not blame Jackson fully for being ignorant of what the squire meant to the prince because, Mark realised as well, he had never given any indication that Jackson was important to him. That was something that Mark resolved to change.

“Stand up, Jackson,” said Mark, his voice much calmer now that he knew what the problem was. In place of his earlier anger, there was now a need to reassure and comfort the man kneeling before him.

“Only if your pardon is given, your royal highness,” replied Jackson, eyes boring into the woven carpet at his feet. He fully intended to kneel until Mark forgave him.

“You are forgiven,” came Mark’s voice with words that somewhat eased Jackson’s spirit. The prince requested that the squire stand. So, locking his jaw, Jackson rose but could not look at the prince. He felt wretched.

Mark took a step towards Jackson so that they stood face to face. Mark wanted to ensure that Jackson understood and internalized when he was about to say. “Look at me,” the prince said. With difficulty, Jackson dragged his eyes upwards, finally meeting the prince’s gaze. Mark saw the hesitation and disliked the tentativeness through which Jackson regarded him. He wanted Jackson’s gaze to be unburdened, with the bright eyes clear and honest, to see that spark that he had first noticed when they were very young boys.

“Jackson, listen carefully,” said Mark, waiting until Jackson nodded before he continued without breaking their gaze, “I want you to be my guard. I trust that your utmost desire is to protect me and I trust in your ability to do so.” The prince saw Jackson fidget because the former squire had not yet come to terms with that idea completely but Mark pressed on. “More importantly, Jackson Wang,” Mark spoke again, taking another slow step closer to Jackson so now they were only an arms’ length apart, “I trust you not only as a guard, but as a person. As a friend. I am sorry that I made you my guard without your permission. I realise now that that was a mistake and it was rash of me to assume you would be agree. So now I ask you, as a friend, will you please stand by my side?”

Jackson’s eyes were wide, searching the prince’s face for hints that might negate the prince’s words because it was too good to be true. His ears were ringing, his heart and pulse thundering. His consciousness was struggling to keep up with what Mark had said. He had treasured a hope that the prince did enjoy his company but never in his wildest dreams did he think the prince would utter the words he had just heard.

“As… as a friend?” breathed Jackson, seeking reassurance. He needed to be sure before he grasped those very word to brand them on his heart and etch them into his very soul. He needed to be sure he could believe this because it would change everything and he did not think his spirit would be able to survive the disappointment if it turned out he had misunderstood the prince again.

“Yes, Jackson,” Mark answered, a gentle and warm smile settling on his lips as he watched wonder fill the squire’s eyes, releasing that sparkle that epitomized who Jackson was to the prince. “As a friend. Will you?”

“Yes,” Jackson gasped. “Yes, your royal highness, yes.”

*            *            *

Mark watched as the handsome gilded coach drew up to the castle’s steps with apprehension. It was accompanied by a host of guards on horseback as well as other coaches no doubt carrying the rest of the visitor’s entourage and effects. Descending the steps, he waited for the main coach’s occupant to alight. His footmen, Mark was glad to note were impeccably dressed, opened the door and sank into a low bow. A firm leg came into view and Mark’s first thought was that Jinyoung had changed. When he had last visited Mark’s kingdom, Jinyoung had been a slim and slight teenager with calculative but mischievous eyes as if he was constantly looking for hidden intentions to mock. The leg Mark now saw was firm and had muscle that was discernible even through his breeches. It was soon hidden by a cape as the occupant hopped out before standing up. Catching sight of sharp chiselled features, Mark realised it wasn’t Jinyoung. In the time it took for Mark to process this, the man had turned around to take the hand of another and this time, Jinyoung’s slender form emerged from the body of the coach.

“Jinyoung,” Mark greeted first as was his duty as host.

“Mark,” came Jinyoung’s acknowledgement. Mark remembered that voice well. It was of a lower register now but still held in it a contemplative drawl.

“Welcome to our kingdom,” said Mark, using the royal plural to formally represent a welcome from his family though they were not there to greet Jinyoung as they had their duties.

“Would you like to be shown your room to rest until it is time for the welcoming banquet?” Mark asked as they entered the castle hall. It sounded like Mark had Jinyoung’s comfort uppermost in his mind but truthfully, Mark thought that if Jinyoung chose to rest, he’d be free from having to accompany the visiting prince for a while. Until dinner at least.

Jinyoung gave Mark a knowing smile, “Yes, that does sound pleasant. Travelling is quite tedious, after all.”

“Our servants will show you the way. It is the same room you occupied during your last visit. I trust it was satisfactory to your wishes?”

“Oh yes, it most certainly was. I shall be glad to have the same room.”

“I am happy it pleases you.”

“Most certainly. Until dinner then?” asked Jinyoung.

“Until dinner,” replied Mark. With a curt nod, both went their separate ways.

The relationship between the two princes was an odd one. Many thought that since both were royals of neighbouring kingdoms and of similar age, Jinyoung being only one year younger than Mark, they would have a lot in common. Their parents certainly thought so and had encouraged prolonged visits to and fro between both kingdoms. Perhaps the assumption that they’d automatically become friends was what prevented them from actually forming a friendship. At least that was the case for Mark. He had been told to be kind to Jinyoung for they would rule the region together in future so it was good to become allies. Mark was sure Jinyoung was told exactly the same thing. It was obvious that good relations between the two kingdoms would only bring about benefits so in many ways, Mark predominantly saw Jinyoung as a political ally and not a friend. As such, Mark was hesitant and very reluctant to put in effort into developing things into a ‘friendship’ so he often stayed within the realm of polite courtesy.

Jinyoung, of course, wasn’t blind to what was going on in their parent’s and Mark’s minds either for if Mark was thought to be a good observer, Jinyoung was an excellent one. Though he saw through Mark’s façade as plain a day, he just played along. Jinyoung himself was intent on keeping the superficial politeness between them but he enjoyed agitating the older prince. He knew exactly what to do and say in order to get a reaction from the usually reserved and aloof Mark. It was one of the sole enjoyments he had in his otherwise humdrum life as a prince groomed for the sole intention of inheriting his father’s throne. Besides, learning how to ‘manipulate’ people was a skill that would serve him very well in future and since he could not escape from these visits, he fully intended to have some fun.

*            *            *

Mark glanced at Jackson who was standing beside him as they waited to enter the hall. His guard was almost bouncing on his heels in excitement.

“Aren’t you a little too enthusiastic?” enquired Mark with a smirk.

“It’s my first royal banquet, your royal highness,” gushed Jackson, eyes shining as he tried to imagine what the castle hall would look like as a result of the cleaning and intense work exerted to decorate the large space. The servants in the castle had been at it for days and Jackson simply could not wait.

Mark could not help but chuckle. “Don’t get your hopes too high. Wouldn’t want you to be disappointed,” Mark commented.

“I won’t be disappointed, your royal highness. I’m sure of that. The only banquet I’ve ever been to involved cheap beer and a hog on a spit,” Jackson informed the prince. As a squire, he had never even been near the hall when a proper royal banquet was on because he was always out patrolling the castle walls to ensure that there were no intruders. Needless to say, Jackson had been looking forward to this evening for quite a while.

A permanent fixture in his entourage now, Mark saw Jackson far more than when he was a squire but he wasn’t always by his side. It was only when Mark went on excursions outside the castle that a fuller guard was required and that always included Jackson. When the prince was within the walls, however, the members of his guard took turns to Mark around the castle in pairs. Most of the time, being on duty meant standing outside the door of whatever room Mark was in, be it his study, his bed chamber, meeting room or the library. The prince had never noticed it but there were more members in his guard than he realised. Knowing they were on rotation, Mark tried to identify the routine in order to know when Jackson would be on duty (heaven forbid Mark stoop as low as to ask the Head of his guard for such information) which served to confirm he’d probably only see Jackson once every other day.

With Jinyoung’s visit, however, that routine had been put on hold. Extra guards were required around the castle and because a full guard was needed for excursions, which meant that Jackson would be involved, Mark had actually exerted more effort in planning activities for Jinyoung.

Standing outside the heavy wooden doors through which the muffled chatter seeped through, the prince seemed to be increasingly affected by Jackson’s eagerness. Perhaps this evening might prove enjoyable, thought Mark to himself. The prince took a side-glance at Jackson who had turned towards him with a wide smile on his face, a smile that the prince remembered first seeing when Jackson had first introduced his name, and Mark was about to return the smile with one of his own when he stopped himself. Really. What was coming over him? The prince instantly recomposed himself with the aloof look back on his face just in time before the doors opened to announce his entry.

Escorting the prince to the main table at the front of the hall, Jackson and another of Mark’s guards solemnly took up their positions behind the prince’s chair. Though on duty, Jackson’s eyes could not help but roam the hall, picking out the yards of multi coloured cloth draped from the rafters and pillars, taking in the wreathes of leaves and flowers hung about the hall to fill it with their fragrance and lingered on the hundreds of candles that now illuminated it. It was the grandest sight he had ever seen.

Then Prince Jinyoung entered the hall to hushed murmurs of admiration because, Jackson decided after finally being close enough to see his face, Prince Jinyoung was certainly handsome. He had enigmatic eyes, dark brows and altogether an attractive face. Jackson’s eyes then flitted to the visiting prince’s guard who had taken position next to him. This man was quite a contrast to the prince. The man had very sharp eyes and a more angular face. He also had an aura that warned others to not even attempt to cross him if they wished to see the dawn of another day. Catching the man’s eye, Jackson gave him a small smile because he too was playing host and wanted the visitors to feel welcomed. The man’s eyebrows rose a fraction as if surprised at Jackson’s gesture but he did not respond otherwise. Instead, he ignored Jackson and focused on his prince in front of him. Jackson’s smile fell a little but only for a moment. Perhaps the visitors were tired after travelling. After all, they were in a foreign place packed to the brim with strangers. Maybe they’d be friendlier as the night went on.

At last, the king and queen entered and took their place in between the two princes. Formalities ensued with those in attendance bowing to the kingdom’s rulers according to their status, the servants sank into low bows with those of Jackson’s station on one knee, nobleman in a half bow while Mark and Jinyoung dipped their heads. “Rise,” said the king, his voice ringing throughout the hall. After formally welcoming the visiting prince who was then invited to say a few words, the king announced jovially, “Let the banquet begin!” Music immediately filled the hall as chatter broke out instantaneously as people began to eat and be merry.

The night wore on with multiple forms of entertainment, one being an extremely prepared court jester after which a troubadour serenaded those who wanted to listen with a sad song of love. At the same time, the flow of food, drink and chatter did not stop. Then there was the dancing. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves with the king even ordering the guards to take turns being at ease and join in the festivities.

Thus, Jackson found himself standing right next to Prince Jinyoung’s guard. The man had barely relaxed, his eyes always scanning the crowd around him as well as the banisters and hallways above. He seemed very much aware of anything or anyone who passed within close proximity of his prince, eyeing them warily.

“Hello there,” greeted Jackson, deciding to begin the conversation first.

The man turned to glance at Jackson, deciding to nod his head out of courtesy and then focused his attention again on his prince who was then talking to the queen.

“My name’s Jackson, Jackson Wang. What’s yours?” Jackson asked, unfazed by the lack of response.

The man reluctantly looked at Jackson. Jackson could see a hint of annoyance in the way the man’s eyes narrowed. “Jaebum, Im Jaebum,” the man replied. Jackson noted the rich timber of his voice.

“Jae…bum,” echoed Jackson, trying to get used to the syllables.

Jaebum gave a quick and firm nod in acknowledgement of Jackson’s efforts before turning his gaze again unto his prince. Really, thought Jaebum, this guard with the wavy dark hair was annoying. If he were truly a guard, that is. Surely he should be fully immersed in his duty to watch his own prince as danger could come from any direction without warning and Jaebum would be damned if he allowed himself to be distracted from his responsibilities. If this Jackson guy did not want to act like a guard, so be it for Jaebum was not going to be dragged into shirking his own duty. He kept silent, hoping that the lack of response would discourage any further attempt at conversation but, lo and behold, Jackson spoke again.

“So, Jaebum,” asked Jackson, shifting his weight unto another leg as they had been standing for quite a while, “How long have you been a guard?”

Jaebum clenched his jaw slightly, a move that did not go unnoticed to Jackson. “Long enough to know that idle chatter is not encouraged,” came Jaebum’s cutting reply.

Again, Jackson was unfazed. “Is it?” asked Jackson curiously, “I haven’t been a guard for long so I don’t really know too well what I have to do. Actually,” mused Jackson who took a step sideways to stand closer to Jaebum whom he noticed was taller than him, “I have some questions about being a guard. Can I ask you?”

At this, Jaebum more than clenched his jaw. He bit down so hard that Jackson thought the guard’s jaw was going to dislocate. “Ask your superiors,” replied Jaebum, eyes focused resolutely on the prince’s figure in front of him.

“I would already have asked them if I felt I could ask them,” said Jackson, which caused Jaebum’s brow to furrow as he tried to understand what Jackson meant, “There are questions that I don’t think I should ask my superiors, cause, well, I don’t want them to think I’m too ignorant. So I thought I could ask you. After all, you’re only visiting so I won’t have to face you for the rest of my life even if I utterly embarrass myself in front of you. ”

“You-” hissed Jaebum, pressing his arms to his side to keep himself from slapping Jackson because the lad was really trying his patience.

Jackson saw then that Jaebum was irritated and hastily apologized, “Hey, I didn’t mean to make you angry,” said Jackson with an apologetic smile. Taking a flicker of Jaebum’s eyes to him as a sign that he was not going to be punched, Jackson took the chance to explain. “If you really rather I not ask you any questions, it’s perfectly fine. I just thought that perhaps talking about our duties might be better than ‘idle chatter’ about the weather or the food or something. I am sorry if I upset you though.”

As much as Jaebum wanted to peg Jackson down as a poor excuse for a guard whom he would choose to utterly dislike from here on end, there was a sincerity in Jackson’s voice and face that prevented that. Jaebum could see that Jackson was honest in his apology and perhaps he really did have questions about being a guard.

“Maybe,” Jaebum said, the irritation ebbing and his voice much less tensed, “maybe we could talk later.”

“Really?” replied Jackson with a grateful smile.

“Yeah, really,” answered Jaebum with a barely noticeable lop-sided smile of his own.

While Jackson and Jaebum had been ‘talking’, Jinyoung noticed that Mark happened to glance at his guard whenever the man spoke loud enough for the sound of his voice to reach the royal table. With the noise in the hall, however, one could barely make out what the conversation was between their guards. Intrigued, Jinyoung continued to watch Mark even as he sustained a conversation with the queen who was asking about the wellbeing of his parents. It wasn’t often that Mark showed any interest at events like this. The kingdom’s prince was usually aloof, eyes lingering leisurely on the happenings in the hall but this time, there was an alertness in Mark’s eyes that Jinyoung couldn’t remember having seen before. Standing as the queen excused herself, Jinyoung had the chance to shift over to where Mark sat.

“It’s a good banquet,” Jinyoung remarked.

“Thank you for the compliment. We did hope you would enjoy it,” came Mark’s reply, slipping back into the politeness they were accustomed to between them.

“Our guards seem to be enjoying themselves as well,” added Jinyoung with a glance at the two who had inclined their heads closer together. “He is your guard, is he not?” asked Jinyoung, a tilt of his head indicating that he was referring to Jackson.

“Yes, he is,” Mark answered carefully, a little wary now of what Jinyoung could mean by his question.

“It’s rare to see Jaebum actually talk to someone he’s just met. Your guard must have gotten past his defences fairly quickly,” mused Jinyoung, turning to look fully at their guards in a move calculated to get Mark to follow suit. Mark did, studying the two men dressed in the tunics of their respective kingdoms uniforms. Jackson seemed at ease, obviously absorbed in his conversation.

“Seems Jaebum has taken a liking to him,” Jinyoung added and to his delight he saw the return of the previous alertness in Mark’s eyes that he had first noticed earlier that evening. Not being able to resist testing his suspicion further, Jinyoung asked, “What is his name?”

Mark’s eyes flicked back to Jinyoung, “Who?”

“Your guard. What’s his name?” repeated Jinyoung, keeping his tone casually interested.

“I was unaware you took an interest in my servants, Jinyoung,” replied Mark who for some reason was very reluctant to tell Jinyoung Jackson’s name.

Jinyoung could read the subtle warning in Mark’s tone and it delighted him! “Just curious,” said Jinyoung, a polite smile on his lips but his eyes were too observant for Mark’s liking. To change the topic of conversation, Mark informed the visiting prince of the plans he had made for the duration of Jinyoung’s visit. Jinyoung listened carefully, thanking Mark when appropriate and expressing an excitement that would have been purely courtesy if not for Jinyoung’s newest source of amusement. It seemed as if his visit this time would be far more entertaining which was all due to this Jackson.

________________________________________________________

author's note:

and so begins the second story arc of Prince Mark and his knight, Jackson.

please do leave comments about what you think of this chapter. i love to read feedback :D Perhaps, for example, parts you particularly liked?