Chapter 105
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A light breeze carried the faint, earthy aroma of broad-leaved greenery through the air.
The royal grounds were draped in a heavy stillness. This tranquil weather only served to emphasize the eerie lack of activity throughout the court.
The various Knight Orders that had been seen mobilizing at daybreak had vanished, their current location a mystery to all. With every official meeting scrapped, the nobility had retreated to the safety of their private quarters.
Marchioness Connolly, the woman responsible for this chaos, had already fled toward Pallesa Palace. Her escape was a matter of survival; after triggering such a disaster, she knew Count Grimaldi would show no mercy, particularly while he was orchestrating Claude’s rise to the throne.
“The sun is high, yet the world feels frozen.”
Yuls watched the unfolding drama with a sense of detachment, finding Count Grimaldi’s desperation puzzling. It seemed certain that Claude would secure the crown even if the Count did nothing at all. He wondered why the man was exhausting himself to force a result that was already inevitable.
Was there a hidden motive he hadn’t considered?
“Confirmation has arrived that all court sessions are officially suspended for the day,” Dimitri reported. “While there are no formal bans on movement—aside from visiting Prince Claude—the nobility are choosing to stay behind closed doors.”
“They know that any step outside is an invitation for scrutiny,” Yuls remarked.
Dimitri gave a short nod of agreement. Usually, such a vacuum of power would lead to a flurry of secret summits and backroom deals.
Yuls, however, remained isolated. The lords of South Origin were always kept at arm’s length within the Ionad court, a lingering punishment for their ancestors’ betrayal of the crown.
While Yuls possessed the status to act as their champion, he lacked the necessary political infrastructure. His habit of returning to Woodpecker the moment his mandatory yearly service concluded meant he had never built a foundation in Ionad. He had never cared for courtly influence before, but the current climate was changing things.
“I suspect an invitation will find its way to me shortly,” Yuls mused.
“There is no sign of that yet,” Dimitri countered.
“Everyone is hiding, waiting to see which way the wind blows. It’s their only option.”
During the busy season of the Council, a private meeting might go unnoticed. Now, in this suffocating quiet, any gathering would stand out like a beacon. The courtiers were desperate for status, but they were terrified of being noticed for the wrong reasons. The palace was likely to remain a tomb for the rest of the day.
“If that is the case,” Yuls said, turning his attention toward Adi.
“Why don’t we enjoy a quiet lunch?”
Yuls wore a faint smile that Dimitri immediately understood. The chamberlain bowed low. “I shall see to the arrangements at once.”
Adi remained motionless, her expression one of pure bewilderment. She understood the need for a break given their recent frantic pace, but the way both men were looking at her made her uneasy.
“Adi.”
“I am listening, Your Excellency.”
“You should prepare yourself as well, Guard.”
Adi’s brow furrowed in confusion. Prepare for what? She couldn’t find the logic in the request. “I am already prepared to go out,” she replied, gesturing to her current state. As a member of the Escort Knight Division, she saw no reason to change her appearance for a meal.
The reaction from the two men was immediate and strange.
“Just like that?” Yuls asked.
“Yes.”
“Are you certain?”
Dimitri looked away, his eyes fixed on a distant point as if he couldn’t bear to witness her lack of social grace.
It didn’t take long for Adi to realize her mistake.
The afternoon was breathtaking. The wind was a gentle caress, just cool enough to be refreshing without being intrusive.
They were in a secluded garden within the palace courtyard, shielded from prying eyes by thick groves of trees and the surrounding architecture.
The sky above was piercingly clear, and the lush, dense foliage reminded her of the wilds of Woodpecker. It felt less like a manicured palace and more like a hidden forest.
Adi sat across from Yuls at a table placed in the heart of the greenery.
“……”
She was still clad in her stiff, formal Knight’s uniform.
As the first courses were served, Adi remained frozen in a state of profound awkwardness, focusing entirely on her plate. Dimitri stood nearby, a silent, judging sentinel.
Across the table, Yuls looked up at the sky before his shoulders began to shake. A soft, huffing sound escaped him, which quickly dissolved into a genuine, low-bellied laugh.
“…You really should have told me to change into something else,” Adi muttered.
“I distinctly recall suggesting you get ready. You were the one who insisted your current attire was perfectly fine, Guard.”
“You should have used words I could understand. You know very well that I have no grasp of how things are done at court.”
It was a small, defensive protest. Yuls found her indignation charming, his eyes crinkling with mirth as he tried to regain his composure. He cleared his throat, though he couldn’t quite banish the grin from his face.
Seeing that he found her social blunder entertaining rather than offensive, Adi looked down at her lap. There was no winning this argument. Her only goal now was to finish the meal as quickly as possible and escape.
She began to handle her cutlery with increased speed, but the sound of Dimitri clearing his throat—sharp and deliberate—stopped her. It was a clear reprimand.
He was reminding her of their conversation regarding propriety.
Yuls, catching the silent exchange, let out another soft chuckle.
“Actually, I think the look suits you better than I imagined.”
“What does?” she asked.
Yuls didn’t answer with words. Instead, he simply watched her, his gaze so focused and heavy that it felt like a physical weight against her skin. Adi, stubborn as ever, refused to look away.
“People say a woman’s heart skips a beat for a Knight. It’s a novel experience to feel that sensation myself.”
Adi wondered what sort of woman would say something so ridiculous.
“Do you find yourself drawn to Knights as well, Guard?”
His tone had shifted, turning strangely cool. Adi searched her own history for an answer.
She had spent her life surrounded by them. She remembered men drenched in sweat, picking fights over nothing, and lounging around half-dressed in the barracks. Then, those same men would scrub themselves clean and play the part of the refined gentleman the moment they reached the public eye. The idea of being attracted to them was absurd.
“…Hardly. Knights aren’t my type at all.”
The very thought was repulsive; to her, they were little more than boorish animals.
“Then what is your type?”
Adi was silenced. She had no retort ready. While she was certain of what she disliked, she had never actually considered what kind of person she might actually be drawn to.
Yuls saw her visible distress and chose not to push for an answer, moving on with a light laugh. Dimitri, however, was watching her with the calculating intensity of a predator. Adi felt a chill as she realized the chamberlain was likely planning a grueling schedule of etiquette lessons to fix her behavior.
Yuls turned his gaze to the scenery, realizing his intense stare had made her uncomfortable.
The residence they were in was an anomaly within Ionad Palace, bearing no resemblance to the rest of the grounds or Pallesa Palace. It felt like a piece of Woodpecker had been transplanted here, though it was much more hemmed in.
The layout was strange for a prince’s quarters. It felt intimate and shielded, more suited for a hidden lover than a royal heir. Yet, Dalkatir was a strictly monogamous kingdom; the King had only one wife and no recognized mistresses.
“My father had a very pale, delicate complexion,” Yuls said suddenly.
It was as if he had read the questions forming in Adrina’s mind.
“He was incredibly sensitive to the sun. I’m told my grandfather was constantly worried about his health from a young age.”
This was entirely new information to Adi. She had never seen the current King, let alone known anything about the monarch from two generations prior. Hearing Yuls speak of these figures as family was a jarring reminder of his royal blood, despite the casual way they sat together.
“This palace was built specifically for him. It was designed to be small and shaded, with trees planted so thickly that the light could barely reach the ground.”
It explained why the Woodpecker estate, though much larger, shared this same secluded aesthetic.
“My grandfather loved my father, but he was also a pragmatist. He knew my father didn’t have the constitution to rule as King. A monarch who dies young leaves behind nothing but a power vacuum and chaos. Since the previous Crown Prince was a solid choice, my father was never even considered for the throne. In hindsight, it was a wise decision.”
The irony was that the chosen Crown Prince had died young anyway, regardless of whether that death was natural or orchestrated.
“History has its own version of events, but I often wonder what my grandfather truly felt. What goes through a man’s mind in that position?”
To look at a dead son, a son who was deemed useless, and a son who had dismantled his legacy.
“It is a bitter irony that such a powerful ruler was eventually brought down by his own blood.”
He had been a formidable King, but he was alone.
He likely never imagined his own children would be his ruin. Yuls’s smile was tinged with a sharp, lingering sadness.
“One thing is certain: he had no affection for me.”
“I like you, Your Excellency,” Adi said firmly.
The bluntness of the statement caught both men off guard. Yuls and Dimitri stared at her, their eyes wide with surprise.
“…Not in the way you’re thinking. I simply mean that I am proud of you.”
Yuls let out a soft, genuine laugh.
“I appreciate the sentiment,” he said.
“But perhaps you should try liking me in that other way too. After all, isn’t our story supposed to be one of great passion?”
