Chapter 10
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Pallesa is home to a place known as Witch Street. This district, once the site of brutal inquisitions and public executions, fell into ruin the moment the Kingdom of Dalkatir believed its last witch had been eradicated. For years, the area remained a ghost town, avoided by citizens who were repulsed by its grim history and the lingering scent of charred remains.
As the capital grew increasingly crowded, however, necessity overrode superstition. Destitute creatives and those with nowhere else to go began to occupy the abandoned structures. These artists gradually revitalized the neighborhood, masking its dark past with vibrant decorations until the public’s fear faded into curiosity.
Eventually, the very site of these ancient tragedies was rebranded as Witch Street, with some residents even turning the legend of the persecuted into a lucrative business. This shift reflected a modern era where the terror of the past had softened into folklore. Paradoxically, the ground where hundreds had been unjustly slaughtered was now considered the most fashionable and secure quarter in the city.
Adi found the irony bitter, yet he remained silent.
He had no right to judge, given that the Grimaldi family had been the primary architects of those historic massacres.
The Grimaldi legacy was built entirely upon the ashes of those accused of sorcery.
He dropped a formal missive at the administrative office, uncertain if the royal staff would bother to read it. The wax seal was messy enough that anyone could pry it open without effort, but since the palace often received empty or pointless correspondence, he doubted it would draw any scrutiny.
Adi then made his way to the temporary quarters of Duke Yuls Woodpecker. The walk to the heart of the palace was significant, and he reached the door precisely when the head attendant had instructed.
“Right on the dot. I admire your sense of timing,” Bert remarked.
The older man explained that he was retiring for the evening, leaving the Duke’s safety in Adi’s hands. Bert gave the knight’s shoulder a firm, reassuring squeeze, signaling his confidence that the night would pass without incident.
When Yuls Woodpecker appeared, his attire was surprisingly modest. He wore simple cotton garments devoid of any noble finery or glittering gems. While the outfit was cut to his specific measurements, it was styled with the maturity of an adult and showed visible signs of wear. It seemed the Duke frequently dressed down in this manner.
“We are ready to depart, Your Grace,” Adi said.
Yuls didn’t offer a verbal reply. However, Adi had learned through their brief time together that the boy’s silence served as a quiet signal of agreement.
The Duke made it clear he would not use the official carriage marked with the Pallesa Palace insignia. Adi saw the wisdom in this; a nondescript vehicle would draw far less attention.
Even an unmarked carriage from the royal stables possessed an air of refinement, and while Yuls’s clothes were plain by his standards, they still suggested he was a man of some status. The driver must have received his instructions beforehand, as the horses began to move the moment the two were settled inside.
As they rolled out of the palace grounds, Adi realized this was his first proper foray into the city since his arrival.
A parched wind drifted through the window. It felt as though the cold spring and the blooming magnolias had vanished in an instant; the delicate pink petals were gone, replaced by the deep, vibrant greens of early summer.
Yuls watched his escort. Adi Grimaldi would occasionally scan the Duke’s face, but for the most part, his attention was fixed on the world passing by. It was the typical behavior of a soldier—constantly monitoring the environment for potential threats.
Bert had mentioned the knight was a man of few words, but the silence was profound. Adi’s presence was so muted that even his breathing seemed undetectable. For someone as high-strung and perceptive as Yuls, this lack of intrusive energy was actually quite soothing.
If he let his eyes drift shut, Yuls could almost imagine the carriage was empty. Unlike the other guards, this man didn’t carry the stench of sweat or the cloying weight of expensive cologne.
“Adrian,” Yuls said, breaking the quiet.
The name felt foreign to Adi’s ears, causing him to pause for a heartbeat before responding.
“Are you acquainted with Witch Street?” the Duke asked.
“I am not, Your Grace.”
“I was under the impression you had lived in Pallesa for several years now.”
“I have remained strictly within the palace walls during that time.”
“A proper bodyguard should be intimately familiar with the local geography,” Yuls noted.
“My transfer to the 2nd Knights Order is still quite recent,” Adi explained.
The Duke didn’t push further. While he was a master of issuing commands, Yuls lacked the social grace for casual conversation and didn’t know how to bridge the gap. The interior of the carriage returned to its previous stillness.
A few moments later, Adi let out a soft exclamation of realization.
“So, this is the place,” he murmured.
He stared out the window with the genuine wonder of a traveler seeing a new land. His gaze sharpened as he took in the sights of the legendary street.
“It is,” Yuls confirmed.
“The trees here are heavy with white blossoms,” Adi observed.
“The city is preparing for the May Festival. It begins very soon.”
“That makes sense,” Adi replied.
In his experience, this was the time of year when knights would usually abandon their posts to drink and celebrate until dawn. Having no friends and no desire for revelry, Adi had always spent those holidays in his barracks, maintaining his usual training regimen.
“Does your home in Grimaldi not hold similar celebrations?” Yuls asked.
“They do, though I never took part in them.”
During the festivities, their mother would always retreat to a southern villa. When they were small, she would take Adrian along, but as his twin’s health failed, the two of them were left behind in the family estate.
The servants looked after Adrian during the daylight hours, but the nights belonged to the siblings. Adrina would slip into his room, and the two would huddle together under thick blankets she wasn’t supposed to have. They spent hours talking about nothing and everything.
‘I promise I will get you away from this place,’ Adrian had whispered back then.
He had kept that promise. Adrina had escaped the clutches of the Grimaldi family, but Adrian had remained trapped. Even now, wearing his face and his name, she felt as though she hadn’t truly found freedom.
“We have arrived,” Yuls announced.
The carriage slowed to a stop. Adi stepped out first to secure the area. Seeing the height of the step, he reached out a hand to assist the young Duke, but Yuls ignored the gesture, climbing down with a look of irritation.
“Is this our destination?” Adi asked, unable to hide his confusion.
The location seemed entirely wrong for a man of Yuls Woodpecker’s standing. He had heard the street was a hub for oddities and trinkets, but this was unexpected.
A shop for fortune-telling.
He wondered if it was possible for a Duke to actually put faith in such things. While he couldn’t grasp the logic, Adi knew it wasn’t his place to question his superior’s interests.
Since the nature of the visit seemed deeply personal, Adi realized that following the Duke inside would be an intrusion. Yet, his duty was to protect him. He glanced at the blade at the Duke’s hip—it was a strange length, somewhere between a short sword and a long dagger. He doubted the boy could truly defend himself with it if things turned violent.
“Is this a place you visit often?” Adi inquired.
“I come here once a year,” Yuls replied.
If it was a recurring appointment, the risk was likely minimal. The Duke was probably more familiar with the shop’s occupants than Adi was.
“Should I remain here by the carriage?”
Yuls gave him a sharp look. The knight was more perceptive than he looked; if Adi had demanded to enter, it would have made the meeting impossible.
“Stay with the carriage and make yourself comfortable,” the Duke instructed.
He knew that knights were a stubborn breed who would likely stand guard right outside the door anyway. They would burst in at the first sign of trouble, though Yuls knew that wouldn’t be necessary. He touched the hilt of his weapon briefly before letting his hand drop.
“If I am not out within the hour, you may come looking for me.”
“As you wish,” Adi said.
The interior of the shop was swallowed by shadows. It was so profoundly dark that a normal person would have been blind, unable to find their way through the gloom. Only a creature with the instincts of a predator could navigate such a place. However, the visitor was not entirely human, allowing him to move with ease.
Yuls didn’t need the eyes of a beast to find his way. He had been coming to this exact spot for a decade, and in ten years, the shop hadn’t changed a bit.
The same dusty tapestries hung from the walls, the same crystal spheres sat on the tables, and the floor was cluttered with the same odd junk. The only things that ever shifted were the patterns of the spiderwebs and the movement of the insects.
He had given Adi permission to enter if there was trouble, but he knew the knight would never find an opening. The shop itself possessed a way of turning away anyone it didn’t want inside. Even if he were in danger, Yuls knew the layout so well he could have fled with his eyes shut.
“You’ve returned,” a female voice drifted through the dark.
The room wasn’t the only thing frozen in time. Yuls Woodpecker looked exactly as he had ten years prior. The boy who refused to grow up looked toward the girl who shared his eternal youth.
“Yes. And you haven’t changed either,” Yuls noted.
The woman gave him a radiant smile that seemed at odds with the oppressive darkness surrounding them.
“Witch,” he said.
She was the solitary survivor of her kind in the entire Kingdom of Dalkatir.
