Chapter 13
Roy Gallardo was well-acquainted with the gossip surrounding Adi Grimaldi. The word was that he possessed a delicate, striking face but spent his time brutally thrashing anyone who crossed him. Roy understood that Adi’s recent move to the 2nd Knights Order was a disciplinary measure following some trouble he’d stirred up. It baffled Roy why such a volatile person would be reassigned to an elite unit rather than being stripped of his rank entirely.
They claimed the selection process prioritized only appearance and martial prowess, but to Roy, the man seemed like a genuine piece of work.
“Hey, Roy.”
“Yeah?”
“If you’re not interested in dropping to your knees to beg, you could always try crawling through my legs instead.”
“If I do, will you take my shift?”
“Hardly.”
“……”
Roy fell silent, wondering why the offer had even been made. He glanced down at Adi, who appeared even more slight and feminine than the stories suggested. It was difficult to reconcile this fragile image with the reputation of a savage hound, yet the specific rumor about Adi shattering a man’s groin made Roy instinctively want to keep his distance.
“I might consider your request if you decided to be truthful with me.”
“Truthful about what?”
“You aren’t pursuing a position with Duke Woodpecker just because you want a respectable master. There’s more to it.”
“……I don’t follow.”
“I think you understand me perfectly.”
Adi considered the possibility that someone had pushed Roy toward the Duke, just as she had been manipulated. Ultimately, she decided that even if he was acting on orders, it didn’t change her situation. In fact, having him close to Duke Woodpecker might even be beneficial for her—at least for the time being.
The atmosphere felt heavy, as if the silence would only invite a longer, more tedious conversation. Adi scanned Roy from head to toe. She noticed a slight tremor in his posture when her eyes lingered on his lower half, though the reason for his sudden nerves escaped her.
“I have to get to the Duke’s residence,” she announced.
Roy started to speak, then hesitated, his mouth snapping shut. He clearly had a lingering thought.
“Unless you’re planning to sleep in my room, you should probably get moving as well.”
Roy didn’t reply; instead, he turned his head away. The chamber was swallowed in shadows, save for the flickering light of a lone candle. Following his line of sight, Adi noticed a framed picture on the wall.
“Is that your little sister?” Roy asked.
Adi looked at the image of herself and Adrian. They were identical, separated only by the length of their hair. That long hair was now surely rotting in a grave alongside her brother.
“She’s beautiful.”
“I heard a curse took her life,” Roy added.
Adi’s expression darkened as she fixed him with a sharp stare.
“Weren’t the rumors saying you were cursed too?” Roy said, reaching out to pat her shoulder as he headed for the exit. “I suppose you cursed types should probably stick together.”
The door clicked shut behind him. His parting shot suggested he held little affection for Duke Woodpecker. Then again, knightly devotion was a rarity these days; most men-at-arms simply followed the path of the highest bidder.
“Roy Gallardo,” she whispered.
She debated investigating his background, but she lacked a reliable source of information. A trip to the 3rd Knights Order’s barracks tomorrow might yield something, though she doubted her former comrades would be happy to see her. For now, her duties at the residence took priority.
Security at the Inner Palace was tighter under the cover of night. The guards scrutinized her assignment papers and knightly credentials with more rigor than the daytime sentries. The delay forced Adi to quicken her pace, only slowing to catch her breath once the residence loomed ahead.
The knights’ quarters were situated directly across from the Duke’s private rooms, a strategic placement for constant surveillance. Of the four available rooms, Bert occupied one and Adi another. Both lived lean lives, keeping few personal items in the space.
It struck her that maintaining a twenty-four-hour watch with only two people was a recipe for exhaustion. She wondered why the Duke hadn’t traveled with a larger retinue or requested reinforcements from the palace. She shook the thought away; such questions were a waste of mental energy.
Bert was nowhere to be seen. He had claimed the room furthest away, but he was likely already on patrol. Adi considered discussing the staffing issue with him, as the prospect of speaking to the Duke directly was daunting. However, as she lay down, a wave of fatigue pulled her toward sleep.
Her mother had sought her death from the moment of her first breath.
The Countess had once turned the helpless infant face-down on her bedding. When a nanny intervened to save her, the mother had snatched the child back and hurled her to the floor. By some miracle, the girl had survived without a broken bone or a damaged mind.
It was Grimaldi who had stopped the weeping Countess from her frantic insistence that one of the twins had to die. Adi wondered if her father had known she would meet an early end. Was that why he kept her—as a backup? Or did he now regret not letting her mother finish the job in the nursery?
The true depths of their hearts remained a mystery.
Adrina’s memories were stained with the image of people wailing in the mud by Adrian’s fresh grave, clutching at a temporary wooden cross. She remembered the cold, detached expression on Grimaldi’s face as he looked at her—and she remembered that she had looked back at him with the same emptiness.
What had been going through his mind?
The dream shifted to the blurred white of snow-covered fields passing a carriage window, interspersed with the sight of raw earth at the cemetery. She heard the Countess screaming, asking why the wrong child had died, and saw a glimpse of Adrian’s pale, cold hand beneath the dirt.
“Ah.”
She gasped, waking from the nightmare.
Such dreams were always omens of a difficult day. Adi ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back as she checked the bedside clock. Dawn was nearly upon them. She had slept longer than intended and had to rush to prepare for her shift. Outside, the sounds of the morning were already beginning.
She hurried to the drawing room and knocked. Bert opened the door, his face etched with weariness. “Any trouble last night?” she asked. He shook his head, noting that nothing ever happened during the late hours.
“You look like you had a rough night yourself, Sir,” Bert remarked.
“Just some bad dreams,” she replied.
Her mind usually dwelled on Adrian, but it had been years since her mother haunted her sleep. Experience had taught her to stay inside on days that started like this, but she no longer had that luxury.
“Sir Bert Dean?”
“Yes, Sir Adrian Grimaldi?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
“Don’t you think the schedule is too demanding for just two people to protect His Grace?”
“You’re just now realizing that?” Bert snorted.
“It’s a heavy burden.”
“Was your previous post better staffed?”
“We had three. But the third knight for this detail was sidelined by an injury.”
“Why do you ask? Do you have someone in mind?”
“Perhaps.”
“If you do, tell me. I asked you for recommendations when we started, didn’t I? I wanted to know if you knew any capable men.”
Adi hadn’t understood his earlier prompts. She was a solitary person by nature and assumed any new guards would be pulled from the 2nd Knights Order. Having been transferred so abruptly, she hadn’t made any friends there, and the rivalry between the 2nd and 3rd Orders was legendary.
“If you know a good man, bring him to me.”
“I don’t know him personally.”
“You’re recommending a stranger?”
“I’ve heard things about him.”
“His name?” Bert pressed. “I need the full name.”
Adi searched her memory. The name was on the tip of her tongue. “Ga… Gal…”
“Gallardo?”
“Yes, Roy Gallardo.”
“I’ll look into his record,” Bert said. Adi wondered if he had performed a similar background check on her. Bert stretched his neck and let out a long yawn. “The day should be easy. His Grace is planning to nap. He’s already out, so I took the chance to step away.”
“A nap?”
“He has his reasons.”
“Understood.”
“Since you’ll be idle, why don’t you help me with a task?”
“What is it?”
“Reviewing the ledger of gifts.”
“The gift registry?”
“Exactly. There’s an item His Grace is looking for.”
“What kind of item?”
“No idea.”
“……I beg your pardon?”
“I don’t know what it is. But the Duke said he’d recognize it the moment he saw it.”
Adi frowned. If only the Duke knew what it was, her help seemed redundant. Was it a piece of jewelry? A magical artifact?
“I’ll assist,” she said. Bert gave her shoulder a friendly slap before heading off toward the administrative wing. Adi stepped into the drawing room.
Yuls wasn’t at his desk with the morning paper. Instead, he was curled on his side on the sofa, deep in sleep. His breathing was rhythmic and quiet, oblivious to the cool air entering the room. In this state, he looked remarkably like a vulnerable child—which, physically, he was.
A butterfly had wandered in through the open window, circling the Duke before landing softly on his cheek, seemingly lured by a phantom scent. Adi watched it, struck by the scene.
He looked like a fairy-tale princess.
Perhaps it was his youth that stripped away any sense of masculinity. Compared to the rugged, boorish men of the 3rd Knights Order, he was undeniably delicate. A Duke, yes, but one with the grace of a princess.
Adi crept forward, her boots silent on the floor. She reached out, intending to gently shoo the insect away, but the movement must have alerted him. Yuls’s brow pinched in irritation, and his eyes snapped open. The butterfly took flight, but Adi was faster, snatching it out of the air.
Yuls stared at her hand, which had stopped inches from his face. His expression was one of deep annoyance. They were dangerously close. She had previously thought his eyes were a simple brown, but at this distance, they burned with a dark, bloody crimson that matched his hair.
Despite the fiery color, his gaze was bone-chillingly cold.
“Explain yourself,” Yuls demanded.
