Ch#135
“Explain how this serves my interests.”
Spencer was right; the destruction of the Oak Forest offered no tangible gain to the Grimaldi estate. Geographically, their lands were at opposite ends of the kingdom—North and South. There was no territorial friction to solve, nor was there a trade relationship to protect. Cooperation was possible if their goals aligned, but mutual apathy was the more likely state of affairs.
“I fail to see the logic in torching Woodpecker’s property,” he continued.
Adrina found herself without an answer. Logically, he had nothing to gain. While timber was a primary export for both, the species grown in the North and South served entirely different markets. Furthermore, Spencer was not a man of petty arson. For all his faults, he was a creature of cold calculation.
“If you are curious about my current perspective, Adrina…”
She flinched at the sound of her name. Hearing it spoken by him always felt like wearing a garment that didn’t quite fit.
“As your sire, I genuinely hope for a favorable union between you and the Duke.”
His words left her expression unreadable.
“Your standing is far superior to that of Lea Lintu. You have my full backing.”
“What are you implying?”
“A chance to secure an impeccable bloodline,” Spencer declared.
Adrina’s brow twitched. There was no room for misinterpretation. Spencer had only ever been driven by a single obsession: a worthy successor.
She could never fill that role. Adrian was gone. The Count himself was now sterile.
“A child,” he clarified.
Yet, a healthy vessel of Grimaldi blood still existed in her. She was strong and capable. More importantly, there was no risk of a rival heir appearing.
“You simply need to provide me with an infant.”
She was the key, as she could bear the child herself.
“A son.”
It was a far more reliable path than adopting an outsider.
“Fathered by the Duke.”
After all, the Duke carried the prestige of the Royal Family’s lineage.
Adi watched the Count, her face a mask of cold indifference. He met her stare with equal detachment. Finally, the silence was shattered by her sudden, sharp laughter. In that moment, she looked exactly like Yvette Grimaldi—the Yvette of years ago, whose smiles were once full of genuine life.
“……”
The resemblance clearly unsettled Spencer.
“So, you desire a legacy,” Adi said, her smile radiant yet mocking. She looked as though she had just heard the world’s funniest joke.
“However, Spencer…”
That brilliance held a jagged edge of warning.
“The Grimaldi line is already dead.”
“A mere change of surname is irrelevant,” Spencer countered. He viewed ‘Adrina Dean’ as a legal fiction. If necessary, he could revert her name to Grimaldi just as easily as he had manipulated Lea Lintu’s status.
“The blood in your veins,” he said, convinced that things would eventually return to their natural order, “is Grimaldi.”
“Exactly. And that is why it ends here,” Adrina replied.
As she laughed with genuine relief, Spencer’s mind raced to find the flaw in his plan. He saw no obstacles. The path seemed clear. Even if she resisted, he possessed the leverage to compel her.
He assumed Julius Woodpecker’s affection for her would make the Duke a willing participant in any arrangement that secured her.
“I am unsure what schemes you are hatching,” the Count began.
“I am barren,” Adi interrupted.
The words didn’t register at first. Spencer assumed she was simply stating a refusal to conceive. But her expression—the look of someone who had finally achieved a long-awaited vengeance—suggested a much more literal truth.
“My cycle stopped years ago,” she said.
Spencer’s features turned to stone.
“It hasn’t returned since I began living as Adrian.”
This was a variable he hadn’t factored in. He had never bothered to inquire about such things; they were feminine concerns he assumed she managed privately.
“Perhaps the gods decided that if I were to live as a man, my body should follow suit?” she asked, her tone deceptively light.
Spencer’s posture grew increasingly rigid.
“Or maybe it’s a curse?”
The word hung in the air.
“Tell me, Spencer.”
Had his son been destined for an early grave, and his daughter for sterility?
“I have lost the ability to perpetuate your name, just as you have.”
She noted that the change occurred only after she took on Adrian’s identity, implying she had been healthy before then.
“Truly,” she mused.
If the affliction was tied to her time as Adrian, was the curse actually attached to his memory?
“It’s a perfect conclusion, wouldn’t you say?”
The very identity used to save the family had ultimately ensured its destruction.
“You will never have what you want, Spencer. Not in this lifetime or the next.”
He couldn’t fathom the look of absolute freedom on her face. To be unable to bear children should have been a source of shame and uselessness for a noblewoman, yet she seemed triumphant.
“It is only right that the Grimaldi name vanishes,” she declared.
She was inviting her own exile, yet she looked delighted.
Spencer was baffled. Similarly, Adrina found his obsession incomprehensible. To her, a bloodline was nothing. She had no loyalty to her ancestors and couldn’t understand the aristocratic fixation on genealogy. Perhaps it was because she had always been an outsider to their world. But seeing him look so devastated…
She didn’t pity him.
He hadn’t looked this broken when Adrian died.
The fact that the end of his lineage hurt him more than the loss of his own son filled her with loathing.
Her lips trembled.
She hated him for making Adrian’s sacrifice feel so utterly worthless. Adrina inhaled sharply, trying to steady herself. She thought she had run out of tears hours ago, but a fresh wave of grief hit her.
She realized then that neither she nor her brother had ever truly mattered to him as people.
Closing her eyes briefly to force back the emotion, Adi grabbed the dagger from the desk.
“And another thing.”
She drove the blade into the heavy wood with a violent crack. The desk splintered around the steel. Spencer watched the wood give way, his eyes following the fracture.
“If you move against Woodpecker again, I will end you.”
She released the weapon and stood tall. As she turned toward the exit, Spencer’s voice followed her.
“If you are sterile,” he said, causing her to pause. “You will never be more than the Duke’s plaything.”
Adi turned back. Spencer casually pulled the dagger from the desk, the wood groaning as the blade slid out. He set it down and looked her in the eye. “Just like the Witch.”
The Witch had given the previous Duke a child but had never been granted a title. Adrina, who couldn’t even offer that much, had no hope of becoming a Duchess. In Spencer’s eyes, that made her worthless.
“I don’t care about titles.”
“Then what of Grimaldi’s future?”
“Whatever it takes,” Adi said, her voice steady and full of conviction. “I intend to have him.”
She left no room for doubt about her total lack of concern for her father’s legacy.
“We shall see,” Spencer muttered.
Adi didn’t bother responding. She threw open the door and walked past the head chamberlain, who was waiting with a tea tray. She ignored his cold glare, her mind already elsewhere.
Adrina hurried toward the manor, sticking to the shadows to avoid notice. She passed the inner walls, her only goal being the sanctuary of her room. She needed to be alone.
She wanted to disappear.
There were countless rooms in the estate, but none felt like a refuge. She felt like a child again, wanting to crawl into the back of a dark closet and wait for the world to stop existing. She wanted to fade into the blackness until there was nothing left of her.
“Adi?”
She nearly ran into Yuls. It was an unavoidable encounter, given that her quarters were adjacent to his own. He shouldn’t have been there at this hour, and she recoiled in surprise.
Yuls stared at her, stunned. He had never seen her look so fragile. Her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.
She looked as though she might crumble if he spoke. Before he could find his voice, the sound of Dimitri calling for “Your Excellency” came from the hallway. Reacting on instinct, Yuls pulled her into his arms and drew her into the room.
Dimitri and Joel, catching a glimpse of the intimate scene as they opened the door, immediately retreated and pulled the door shut.
Yuls felt her shallow breaths against his chest. Slowly, his shirt began to soak through. Adrina didn’t make a sound. There were no gasps, no heaving sobs—just a silent, endless stream of tears. Even in the silence of the room, he couldn’t hear her cry.
“It’s alright,” Yuls whispered. “You don’t have to hold it back.”
Adrina didn’t change. She simply reached around and gripped his back, clinging to him as the front of his tunic grew heavy with the weight of her grief.