Ch#142
==================================================
Yuls didn’t possess enough strength to entertain guests until the sun began to set. Even then, there wasn’t a queue of people waiting; only a single visitor had any intention of seeing him.
“Is he actually a child?”
Claude’s opening remark was blunt. When Yuls responded with a sharp glare, the prince offered a low, dismissive apology for his slip of the tongue.
Claude had prepared a different script in his head. He’d considered asking about his welfare, mocking his stubborn refusal to die, or perhaps commenting on how the legendary Witch’s blood genuinely granted him a supernatural resistance to toxins. Yet, the version of Yuls sitting before him was a mirror of his past self. If anything, he looked even younger than Claude remembered.
“Those clothes look absurd on a frame that small.”
Since no garments in the estate were tailored for a boy his size, Yuls had no other options.
“Your manners are lacking,” Yuls snapped.
“I believe my status grants me the privilege of being a bit tactless, doesn’t it?”
With that retort, Claude stepped closer and took a seat on the edge of the mattress. Observing the shrunken Yuls felt less like visiting a cousin and more like checking on a young nephew. He found the transformation almost charming and reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair, but he pulled back quickly when Yuls shot him a look of pure murder. Claude knew better than to provoke his cousin’s legendary temper.
“Seriously, though—what took place?”
“I was poisoned.”
“I’m not asking about the assassination attempt. I mean the physical regression.”
“I gave you my answer. It was the poison.”
“What kind of toxin makes a man smaller? That sounds like a miracle elixir, not a death sentence. Half the nobility in Ionad would commit crimes for a dose of that.”
“They are welcome to try it and die,” Yuls muttered.
Claude noted the boy’s foul mood.
In truth, Yuls and Joel were just as baffled by the transformation as anyone else. Their lack of answers was exactly why they were hunting for the last living Witch in Dalkatir, though her current location remained a mystery.
“Now then.”
Claude shifted his focus away from his cousin, turning his eyes toward Adi instead.
“Regression aside, how did he manage to reach adulthood in the first place?”
He expected the question to rattle her, but Adrina’s expression remained a mask of stone. She didn’t betray a hint of surprise or discomfort.
“That information is private,” Yuls intervened.
“I wasn’t addressing you. I’m waiting for her response.”
Adi finally looked at him, her expression suggestively blank as if she hadn’t realized she was part of the conversation. Knowing her personality, it was entirely possible she had simply tuned him out, but Claude wasn’t in the mood for her stoicism.
“Well? Guard Adrina Dean, do you usually ignore inquiries from the Royal Family?”
“I have no knowledge of the matter.”
“Come now. You’re going to give a member of the royalty such a blatant brush-off?”
“One cannot provide information they do not possess.”
Her rigidity was exasperating. While such unwavering discipline was the hallmark of a true knight, it made communication nearly impossible. There were moments when she seemed perceptive enough to understand him perfectly, making this sudden wall of ignorance even more grating.
Claude glanced back at Yuls, his eyes communicating his disbelief that anyone could tolerate such a woman. Yuls simply told him it was time to leave.
“I just arrived, and you’re already showing me the door?” Claude sighed.
Despite his complaints, the prince had already prepared for his departure by the following morning. The commotion caused by the Woodpecker retainers had been so loud that the news had reached Claude’s own knights and staff. They had undoubtedly sent word back to Ionad, Pallesa Palace, and their own kin through private channels.
The King would certainly be informed soon. Claude would have preferred to stay, but lingering in the wake of a royal assassination attempt would only lead to accusations of incompetence or negligence from the throne. A quick exit was his most strategic move.
As he stood, Claude looked down at his tiny cousin. He felt a flicker of sympathy, though it was largely drowned out by how comical the situation was. Since his own entourage hadn’t seen Yuls in this state, the secret of his regression was still safe for now.
He debated whether he should keep the secret or spread the word. For the moment, he chose silence.
“Stay healthy, brother.”
“We are cousins,” Yuls corrected him.
Claude let out a sharp laugh and began to walk away. His face hardened instantly as he passed Adi.
“Do your job well,” he said coldly.
His voice dripped with a disdain that seemed aimed at her Grimaldi heritage. Adrina didn’t take offense; she despised her own bloodline just as much as he did, and she found his contempt entirely justified.
However.
Yuls and Dimitri watched the prince vanish through the doorway. They waited until the latch clicked and footsteps faded before their expressions turned grim.
“Was it truly Claude who paired Lev Zid with Viscount Macauliffe?” Yuls asked.
“That is the case, Your Excellency.”
“Was he just being chaotic, or was there a deeper plan?”
Dimitri remained silent. The Prince’s motives were always a blur. While it seemed like a typical impulsive whim, one could never rule out a calculated scheme.
“I would prefer dealing with the King,” Yuls sighed. “At least his malice is predictable.”
“Should we plant an observer in Prince Claude’s circle?”
“He’d spot them immediately. He’d keep them close just to feed us misinformation, which would only ruin our relationship further.”
“Then we should probably keep things as they are for now,” Dimitri suggested.
“I agree.”
Yuls nodded, though a sense of dread lingered. Claude Dalkatir was a man who surrounded himself with spies from every noble house, yet he remained an island, letting no one into his inner confidence. He played the part of a friendly cousin, but his history of sending killers and acting on erratic impulses meant he was never truly off his guard.
He was a riddle wrapped in deception, likely a result of being raised by the treacherous Count Grimaldi.
“None of this is ideal.”
“What is our next move?” Dimitri inquired.
“What would you suggest?”
“We should act as if we are unaware of the Prince’s meddling. Simultaneously, we must document the full extent of the damages from the Oak Forest fire and initiate a formal legal battle against Macauliffe for restitution. And we certainly cannot let the events at Grimaldi pass without consequence.”
“Proceed with those plans,” Yuls commanded.
As Dimitri prepared to leave, Yuls raised a hand to catch his attention. A dark smile played on the boy’s lips.
“Wait. Before we depart for our lands, issue a formal invitation to Macauliffe.”
Dimitri looked confused.
“Send the invite, but coordinate it so the Royal Family receives our legal complaint and the evidence at the exact same moment.”
Dimitri’s eyes sharpened as he grasped the strategy. “Understood, Your Excellency.”
A heavy, uncomfortable silence had fallen over the Grimaldi manor. Hosting a guest only to have a scandal erupt had left the atmosphere stifling. The Woodpecker house demanded an explanation for the treachery, but the Count remained tight-lipped. He simply deferred everything to the Crown’s judgment, keeping his own cards hidden.
Adrina was in a similarly dark mood.
She had spent the previous hours desperately trying to break the curse, kissing Yuls’s hands, his face, and his lips, but the magic remained stubborn. Yuls had eventually told her to stop, claiming the method was useless. It made her wonder if he knew the true secret to his previous growth, or if her theories were entirely wrong.
She ended up simply standing guard over the sleeping boy, her mind spinning with plans that led nowhere.
At the break of dawn, she watched from the window as Claude’s carriage, marked with the royal seal and flanked by guards, hurried away from the estate. Even though the Count was likely his ally, the Prince clearly wanted to distance himself from the mess as quickly as possible.
Adi felt the ducal party should follow suit, but Joel insisted Yuls needed more rest before the journey back to Woodpecker.
When the sun began to rise, Roy arrived to relieve her. Usually, Yuls was a light sleeper, but he didn’t stir as they swapped places. Instead of heading to her nearby quarters, Adi went to the area designated for the staff.
She sat on the edge of her cot for a moment before she began to undress.
She carefully put away any clothing that identified her as a member of the Woodpecker guard. Dressed only in her undergarments and leather protection, she concealed a blade on her leg and another in her sleeve, finally holstering her primary sword at her hip.
She tested the window curtains, finding the material thick and unyielding. It was strong enough to support a person’s weight if they needed to rappel down—a security flaw that would make an escape easy for an intruder. She didn’t care about the manor’s safety, though.
Satisfied with the strength of the fabric, she slipped out into the quiet corridor.
The house was still at this hour. Without encountering a single person, Adrina walked purposefully toward her target.