Joji knew he had to move before Duchess Rosalind could change his mind.
He strode out of Daisy’s office toward the left wing where the knights were quartered.
The knights greeted Joji with relaxed casualty, like how they would treat a comrade.
"Joji, how fares you? Seeking soone?"
"You’re looking fit and sound. Care to cross blades a while?"
"Aye, Joji, you rogue. Where are you going? Co, were about to feast on so ham and cheese."
Warmth stirred in him at that. In the original Joji’s mories, the salutes had been stiff, distant, more duty than welco. This was different.
"Next ti, alright." Joji shifted. "I’m looking for my friend Alaric, y’all know where he’s at?"
The n traded peculiar looks. Joji had not been around much, and he did not know the latest castle gossip, so he took their looks as simple thinking.
They pointed him down the hall toward a room and drifted off. Joji entered.
Alaric was no ordinary knight. They called him the Thorny Flower of Everhart. He was already on his way to Elite Knight, rank four.
His fencing was sharp enough to draw blood in less than a blink, and his delicate appearance only made people underestimate him.
Long, wavy blond hair. A sharp jawline and high cheekbones you might find in won of the highest beauty.
Narrow, almond-shaped eyes that asked for love without words. Clean-shaven cheeks and chin, paired with radiant skin.
Even his build played into it. Lean, athletic, toned, enough to make ladies of the duchy whisper his na like a prayer and a dare.
Knowing Alaric was the original Joji’s best friend, Joji had no reservations with him and treated him casually.
"Wake up, Alaric. Why stay in bed? It’s only the afternoon," Joji said.
He grabbed the blanket and tugged it back to jolt him awake, then froze.
Alaric had nothing on. Joji snapped the blanket back over him at once.
Too late. Alaric jolted fully awake and caught Joji by the wrist, dragging him close on instinct, half confusion and half reflex.
Joji’s stomach turned. He wasn’t into n before, and he wouldn’t be now.
Wind stirred under his skin, a clean push, and his palm sent Alaric hand away.
"Uh-uh. Nah, bruh, nah. Alaric, quit playing. I’m not on that, bro."
Alaric blinked, his mind clearing as he recognized Joji.
He covered himself, coughed, and looked anywhere but Joji’s eyes.
"Joji. What brings you here?" Alaric asked, like a delicate woman forced to lie naked under the sheets.
Joji did not bother with a long explanation. He leaned close to Alaric’s ear and deliberately acted as if he were about to say sothing mysterious.
"Yo... I’m going on a lowkey mission. I was thinking I’d bring you in, just you and ."
That woke Alaric more than any shout. His grogginess snapped into alert interest.
He had waited a long ti for sothing that sounded like an adventure.
"Where are we bound?" Alaric asked softly.
"Lacrosse. Small town," Joji said. "Report says it’s about a day’s ride from here."
Alaric’s gaze shifted. It was not teasing. It was careful, like he was counting problems.
"Joji... it’s not that I won’t co. There’s trouble, is all."
"Trouble? What you an? There anything I can do, like, can I help?"
"It’s just that... You’ve no horse, Joji."
Joji slapped his forehead. He rembered the original Joji’s stubborn pride, the kind that turned a simple purchase into a vow.
He could almost hear the old line, proud and ridiculous, about needing a brave steed worthy of charging ten thousand n.
Joji, the new owner of the body, felt a headache bloom.
Then an idea struck. He cleared his throat like he had planned it all along.
"Alaric, you don’t need to fuss. We’re not riding horses. We’re taking a roofless wagon with a mule pulling it."
Alaric’s lips twitched. Joji was a man who would rather bite his tongue than admit he was wrong.
Alaric gave in, but he added his own layer of sense.
"Then we should dress as adventurers. Less attention."
"Great idea. Let’s do that," Joji said, laughing just hard enough to sell it.
After that, Joji moved fast. He listed what they needed and passed it to Daisy. Rations. Water. A simple wagon. A mule.
He went to the armory and asked Head Knight Gregorius to borrow steel gauntlets. Alaric would take the bow.
As dawn neared and their departure tightened into sothing real, Alaric wore a fitted black top like a corset, bronzed buttons catching the light, the neckline cut low enough to feel deliberate.
A steel pauldron sat on one shoulder with a bronze rim. Straps cinched his waist, and from them hung his bow and quivers, set where his hands could find them without looking.
Joji wore a blackened steel cuirass, its horizontal plates segnted and layered, held tight by leather side straps and rivets.
Rounded pauldrons capped his shoulders, and thick tal bracers wrapped his forearms.
"Where you headed looking like that, Alaric? You tryna be sobody’s gigolo on the side or what?" Joji snorted.
"What? It’s comfortable. You’d have wear sothing that heavy?" Alaric retorted.
As the two n joked around, Joji caught sight of Daisy lingering in shadow, anxious and reluctant, as if he had enlisted in a war with little chance of her seeing him again.
He pulled her aside, asked for a kiss, then held her in a quick hug that stayed just long enough to be felt.
"I want you to keep doing this while I’m gone," Joji said.
He took her hand and did the motion of self-pleasure on her palm.
Daisy’s face reddened, peaked behind Joji, and hit him lightly.
"Co back soon," she whispered.
Joji nodded and walked away, not wanting the goodbye to stretch.
Alaric, already at the wagon, scoffed as he climbed up.
"What was that? Say it again," Joji asked, not catching what he said.
Alaric only shook his head and took the reins of the mule.
Daisy waved her handkerchief as they went away, eyes pooling with tears, her heart already missing Joji.
The road was uneventful. No trouble. No disturbances. No one even called out for help.
At noon they stopped to rest, slipping off the road to escape the worst of the sun.
A caravan rolled up and halted near their wagon.
The guards gave them disdainful looks, the sort of gazes reserved for adventurers they assud were poor, loud, and desperate.
The rchant himself was different. A plump man draped in jewelry, balloon like pants swaying as he walked.
He approached with a practiced smile.
"Good sirs, if I may, where are you bound?"
He ca closer, eyes flicking over their weapons. There was a sharpness to his gaze.
He could tell they were not ordinary. His manner shifted at once. He bowed.
"My na is Walter Cutlers, good sirs, of the Cutlers family, at your service."
He twirled his beard and studied Alaric, barely sparing Joji a glance.
"Good adventurer, if it please you, I’m bound for the County of Fellbarrow, and I’d hire your company on the road."
Joji did not know how to answer. He still knew almost nothing about how this world worked, not beyond what he had stolen from mory and rumor. His eyes turned to Alaric.
"Pardon , good sir. Our road may end sooner than yours. We may not be able to ride with you all the way to Fellbarrow," Alaric answered smoothly.
"No matter, no matter," Walter said, fluttering a hand. "A halfway escort will serve well enough. The Duchy of Everhart has, so they say, been plagued by bandits of late. I’ve heard as much on the road."
Alaric looked at Joji. Joji only shrugged, leaving the decision in Alaric’s hands. With a quiet sigh, Alaric nodded.
"My na is Ava, without surna. This is my companion Desmond, also without surna."
"We’ll be under your care, Mister Cutlers," Alaric said, bowing with the ease of soone who had lied politely before.
They joined the caravan and moved on. As they traveled, the guards kept stealing glances at Alaric.
Both Joji and Alaric had trained with aura and had sharp hearing. They caught every word the guards muttered.
"See Ava over there. Her bodice near betrayed her a mont ago. Saw her nipples. Gods, I’d wager these bones of mine aren’t too old to try my luck."
"Mind your tongue. Ava’s a na for an angel, not your gutter talk. Don’t go saring my goddess with your filth."
"Look, there’s that bald-pated lout at her elbow. I’ll wager he’s had his hands on her more nights than not, and none of it gentle."
Joji had never felt ashad of gossip, but right now the guards’ talk of him doing Alaric like a whore felt offensive, disgusting even.
He was about to give them a piece of his mind when Alaric held him down, stopping him from standing.
Alaric smirked, running his fingers along Joji’s arm like a lover, feeling the muscle through the bracer.
The guards’ eyes widened at the audacious public display. The older ones leaned closer with a grin that was all wrinkles, their eyes begging to see more.
Alaric saw that look, his own expression turning to pure disgust, and he yanked his hand back fast.
"Joji, you’re no fun at all."
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