Chapter 104
“You had a meeting with Lev Zid?”
Privacy was a rare luxury in these halls. While Adi had no intention of concealing the encounter—nor any particular reason to—the bluntness of the question caught her off guard. She looked down at Yuls, who had taken a seat on the side of his mattress.
“Well?” he prompted.
“I did,” she confirmed.
“And the nature of your discussion?”
Adi paused, searching her mind.
“Is it a secret?”
“No,” she replied. “I was simply trying to recall the specifics. It wasn’t very substantial.”
Their talk had been the typical, circular friction, though Adi had deviated from the script this time. She had challenged Lev, who seemed perpetually drowned in his own guilt, asking why he had targeted Adrian in such a manner.
“Lev insisted that I must answer for what happened,” she explained.
“Answer for what?”
“He believes I owe a debt for Adrian’s passing.”
Yuls frowned. “How could that possibly be your burden to carry?”
“I suppose he feels that if I had been the one to die at the start, Adrian would still be here.”
“That is a lie,” Yuls said firmly. “It isn’t your fault.”
Adi watched him for a long moment before answering softly. “I am aware.” After a beat, she added, “It isn’t only my mistake, after all.”
Yuls studied her, realizing she didn’t truly understand. Curses of that nature didn’t function through simple inheritance. A Witch’s malice had finite boundaries, unless one was dealing with a being of divine proportions.
“Adrina, no one is to blame here. Not you, and certainly not Adrian. So…”
Yuls looked up as he spoke, his words trailing off when their eyes locked.
“……”
He saw a look he didn’t recognize. He had braced himself for a flash of agony or perhaps a glimpse of the usual hollow mask she wore to hide her feelings.
Instead, her expression was charged with something else—something that felt dangerously like tenderness. Had she always watched him with that warmth? A sudden chill touched his hands, replaced quickly by a surge of inexplicable nerves.
“Forget it,” Yuls muttered, breaking eye contact. Adi tilted her head, looking confused.
“Your Excellency?”
He looked back, though he found it difficult to meet her gaze directly. That strange, unprompted affection in her eyes unsettled him.
“Will we not proceed today?” she asked.
“Proceed with what?”
“Our usual routine.” Adi blinked, then stepped toward him. “Actually, I believe it was my turn to initiate it.”
Yuls flinched, holding up a hand to stop her. “Stay right there.”
True to her nature as a disciplined soldier, Adi froze instantly. Her obedience was the mark of a perfect knight, yet Yuls felt a sharp sting of regret. He was disappointed that she had listened, yet he knew he couldn’t handle it if she came any closer.
“We’re skipping it tonight,” he said.
Adi looked entirely lost. “Why?”
“I’m exhausted.”
“What does fatigue have to do with the task?”
He couldn’t tell her that exhaustion made his self-restraint crumble. Being tired meant he would react too honestly, and the walls he built around his heart would fail.
“It just does,” he insisted.
Adi didn’t push further. She simply nodded and moved back. Her easy compliance left him feeling hollow; he found himself wishing she hadn’t retreated so quickly.
“Just remain close to me for the night,” he added.
“As you wish, Your Excellency.”
She stood still, ever the loyal subordinate. The air between them felt thick and clumsy, making Yuls long for the oblivion of sleep. However, peace was not on the agenda.
Just as he settled into the bedding, a sharp rap at the door interrupted them. Adi crossed the room and pulled it open to find Dimitri. The chamberlain whispered her name through the gap before stepping inside to face the Duke. He was carrying a formal robe. Yuls sat back up.
“What’s happened?”
“Marchioness Connolly is here,” Dimitri reported.
“At this hour?”
Despite the late hour, Yuls stood and allowed Dimitri to help him into the gown. He moved with the weary grace of a man who had been expecting a storm. Adi fell into step behind him.
*
They navigated a maze of hallways until they reached the drawing room. Marchioness Connolly was already there, rising from a sofa as they entered. She was alone, lacking even a single servant, and was wrapped in a heavy, obsidian-colored cloak. Her usual polished demeanor had vanished.
“Cat,” she said, her eyes narrowing as they landed on Adi. Yuls mirrored her look of irritation with one of his own.
“Aunt, this is a rather sudden intrusion for such a late hour.”
The Marchioness ignored the jab at her manners. She looked entirely indifferent to social niceties at the moment.
“Dismiss your guard,” she commanded.
“I see no reason to.”
“Do you have any idea who that knight really is?”
“What if I do?”
A cold, bitter laugh escaped the Marchioness. “No. You haven’t the slightest clue.”
Her confidence gave Yuls pause. Had she actually pierced the veil? If so, he couldn’t imagine how she had gathered the evidence.
“Do you place your faith in Count Grimaldi?” she asked.
“The Count? Why would I?”
The Marchioness was clearly hunting for something. But how could she know? The original Adrina Grimaldi had been dead for six years—since the time Yuls had reached adulthood. There was no logical reason for her to suspect that a ghost was standing in the room.
“Is this why you came here?” Yuls asked. “To tell riddles?”
“I have no time for games. I am fleeing Ionad before sunrise.”
“Leaving won’t change my mind,” Yuls said. “I’m not handing over Lea Lintu.”
“This isn’t about the girl.”
She was fleeing because of the Count’s potential retaliation. The man never got blood on his own sleeves; he used others as blades and discarded them when they were dull. He had done it to Luigi, and he would do it to her.
“The Count’s influence is far more intimate than you realize, Yuls. He is closer than you think.”
She hoped he would catch the subtext. Between Adrina, the Count, and even Bert Dean’s proximity to the Duke, the web was closing in. She desperately wanted Yuls to act, but a part of her feared he was already an accomplice. What if his promises of an alliance were just a smokescreen while he helped the Count erase Luigi?
She had to have a backup plan.
“Tomorrow,” she began.
The Count’s end goal was placing Claude on the throne. With one nephew dead and the other uninterested, she needed a new piece on the board—someone to rival Claude.
“The palace is about to be thrown into chaos,” she warned.
She didn’t have a candidate yet, so she would start by tearing down the current one.
“And why is that?” Yuls asked.
If she could create a vacuum, the King would be forced to look elsewhere. She just had to be there when he started searching.
“Because I have exposed the Crown Prince’s filth.”
Yuls’s expression darkened.
“I am acquainted with those who participate in his debauchery. You know his appetites, don’t you? His obsession with women who are already wed?”
“What exactly did you do?”
“I revealed the secrets everyone whispers about but no one dares tell the King.”
The illicit substances, the heavy drinking.
“I sent a full report to His Majesty. He’ll read it the moment he wakes.”
“Aunt, you’ve made a massive mistake.”
“We’ll see. You’ll be crawling back to me once you see the fallout.”
She cast a final, venomous look at Adi. It was obvious she suspected Adi’s identity, though Yuls still couldn’t fathom the source. Had she seen something at Pallesa Palace? Did she know about the years spent as Adrian?
“Look after Lea Lintu,” the Marchioness added. “The future is never certain.”
As she turned to leave, she paused beside Adi and hissed, “Disgusting creature.”
Adi remained stoic. She had no history with this woman and didn’t understand the insult, assuming it was simply a misplaced grudge.
As the head chamberlain held the door, the Marchioness turned back one last time. Adi wasn’t sure how to respond; she hadn’t yet been schooled in the finer points of noble etiquette. Recalling how Dimitri and the Duke often used a polite smile to bridge awkward gaps or mask confusion, Adi decided to offer the woman a pleasant expression to smooth things over.
The reaction was the opposite of what she intended. The Marchioness’s eyes bulged with rage, and she stomped out of the room in a fury.
Adi made a mental note to ask Dimitri for advice on how to smile properly at angry noblewomen.
The door had barely latched when Yuls spoke.
“Get Joel. Tell him to get to Claude immediately.”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” Dimitri replied.
The following morning, the capital was a hive of activity. Soldiers and Royal Guards were mobilized from the heart of the palace, marching in force toward the Crown Prince’s residence. The air was thick with the hushed voices of servants and officials, though the true nature of the scandal remained a mystery to the masses.
“The gears are turning,” Yuls noted, watching the commotion from his window. A courier had already arrived with word that the King’s morning session was pushed to the afternoon.
“Joel, give me the report,” Yuls commanded.
The healer stepped forward. “He is currently unaware of the specifics. However, the Prince’s habits leave behind evidence that is hard to ignore. Normally we could hide it, but this time… the trail is too clear.”
“I’ve done what I can for him,” Yuls said. “The rest is in his hands.”
He had exhausted his options for Claude, and the Prince knew it.
“Now,” Yuls murmured, “we wait to see how Count Grimaldi plays his hand.”
