Ch#148
==================================================
“However,” the Witch added, her voice trailing off.
“His Excellency might have been harmed by a toxin specifically designed to slaughter my kind, but he survived the ordeal, didn’t he?”
The room fell silent as every eye fixed on her. They couldn’t simply ignore her dismissive attitude—the notion that survival was the only metric that mattered—because Yuls’s life was the linchpin of their world. His death would shatter the vassals of Woodpecker and jeopardize every soul living within the territory. While the others bristled at her lack of gravity, Yuls remained perfectly composed.
“The human blood in your veins likely spared you. Isn’t that sufficient?”
“What are you getting at?”
“Simply that I fail to see why my intervention is required.”
“You may be unaware,” Yuls replied, “but I had reached a significantly different stature recently.”
If his true adult form had remained a secret, perhaps this anxiety wouldn’t be so suffocating.
“I was dozens of centimeters taller than this. That is the man everyone recognizes as me. Not this toddler.”
“You are actually quite large for a juvenile,” the Witch noted.
She seemed perpetually disconnected from the flow of conversation. It made one wonder if she was as unversed in the nuances of human society as she appeared.
“Besides,” she continued, “I find this version of you much more familiar.”
“Your comfort is irrelevant. What matters is regaining my proper state.”
“That ‘proper’ state is a matter of opinion,” the Witch countered. “This is your authentic self right now. The man you were before was the deception.”
“Are you claiming my adult form was a fraud?”
“Every living thing follows its own internal clock. The Duke merely matures according to the rhythms of a Witch.”
“Yet I have shrunk even further. Do your kind age in reverse?”
“You mentioned being poisoned. Your physical form merely retracted to the most efficient state for recovery. Smaller bodies are far more resilient when it comes to healing.”
She paused, appearing to weigh her thoughts before speaking again.
“It is possible that once the toxin is fully purged, you will simply return to your previous size.”
“And if that doesn’t happen?”
“Could you not just repeat whatever you did last time?”
Yuls’s eyes flickered toward Adi for a fleeting second before he looked away.
“How exactly did you manage to grow?” the Witch inquired.
“Through stimulation.”
The Witch’s features twisted into a mask of pure distaste. She looked like someone who had just been told something she desperately wished she could unhear.
*
Dimitri had made his way back to the primary residence. He was currently briefing Gavin on the situation and coordinating the management of the estate. Although the Witch had pledged to find a remedy, progress was nonexistent. Her initial attempts at a cure had transitioned into a period of seclusion in the library, followed by her vanishing into the lands beyond the estate walls.
Yuls seemed unconcerned by her absence. He remarked that such behavior was typical of witches—they were wild things that could not be bridled, and it was best to let her wander. The vassals, however, were paralyzed by stress. They were still waiting for a response from Macauliffe, but if the trade city proposal was accepted, Yuls needed to be his true self before the official meeting.
His physical state remained stubbornly frozen in childhood.
Outside, the air was thick with salt and stifling humidity, leaving everyone feeling coated in a layer of grime.
“I suppose being a Witch doesn’t grant her total omniscience,” Adi remarked.
Roy pushed his hair back from his forehead as he kept pace with her. “She’s just a girl,” he said. “Besides, isn’t it Sages who are supposed to be all-knowing? And even they are just seekers of truth, not encyclopedias.”
“Don’t witches live by a different timeline, though?”
“She’s young by any standard. Probably has fewer years on her than we do.”
“She claimed the Duke grows on a Witch’s cycle,” Adi reminded him. “He looked thirteen when he was twenty-six, so if we apply that logic…”
Roy fell silent, his mouth snapping shut. The Witch certainly looked older than Yuls had at that age. She looked mature enough that one wouldn’t normally question her traveling alone, yet…
“Do you think she’s actually older than us?”
“It’s a strong possibility.”
“Stop the gossiping and move your legs!”
Bert’s voice cut through their conversation as he moved between them. He was power-walking with ease while they struggled through a slow jog. “Pick it up!” he barked.
The two knights increased their speed. Every stride was a battle against the shifting sand that threatened to swallow their boots. They were gasping for air, lungs burning, but the relentless voice behind them kept demanding more effort. They weren’t permitted to stop until they had completed two more grueling sprints across the length of the shoreline.
When they finally collapsed onto the dunes, Bert stood over them like a shadow. Roy scrambled into the shade provided by Bert’s large frame to escape the punishing sun, his chest heaving.
“Adi, your endurance is shameful. You’ve clearly been skipping your drills. And Roy, what’s your excuse? You expect to be a Watchman with that little gas in the tank?”
“Look at the size of me!” Roy protested. “I’m carrying twice the weight Adi is. Of course I’m winded.”
“Then train until your body can handle its own weight.”
Roy felt a surge of annoyance. It was easy for Bert to criticize when he had only been walking the whole time. Grumbling under his breath, Roy began to strip off his sweat-soaked gear.
“This beach training is going to be the death of me.”
Bert watched him flop back into the sand and shook his head. He had wanted to push them, but he hadn’t realized they were quite this depleted. Roy was even start to babble nonsense about the superior dry air of the North and suggesting they move the entire dukedom.
“That’s enough for today.”
The words had barely left Bert’s mouth before Roy leaped up, tore off his undershirt, and sprinted toward the water. “I’m cleaning off!” he yelled, plunging into the surf. It wasn’t exactly a proper bath, but he looked so refreshed by the waves that no one had the heart to stop him. The heat was so oppressive that Adi found herself wishing she could join him, a luxury her gender denied her in this company.
Adi sat up, shaking a small mountain of sand from her clothes. As she stared out at the horizon, Bert approached and stood quietly by her side.
“Adi.”
“I’m here, Sir.”
He didn’t speak immediately. When she looked up, she found him watching her with a surprisingly gentle expression. “You’ve endured a great deal lately,” he said softly.
She knew he was referring to the disaster at Grimaldi.
“I am truly sorry,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For the state His Excellency is in. It happened on my watch.”
She turned her eyes away, unable to meet his gaze.
“You aren’t the one to blame.”
Even if she wasn’t personally responsible, the fault lay with her bloodline. If the Count hadn’t interfered, they would be home in Woodpecker by now, preparing for Macauliffe’s arrival.
“I simply cannot fathom the Count’s logic,” Bert mused. “Why would he resort to such extremes?”
Roy was still splashing in the distance. A pair of discarded trousers rolled in the tide, drifting back and forth on the sand.
“The Duke believes the Count was actually trying to set you free,” Bert added.
Adi’s head whipped around. That was news to her. She had always assumed the Count would eventually discard her once he realized she couldn’t give him what he wanted.
“But he used poison,” she countered.
The act of attempted murder didn’t align with the idea of a peaceful release.
“The two things don’t fit together, do they?”
“It suggests he has no intention of ever letting you go.”
Adi shook her head. That couldn’t be right.
“What is your take on it?” Bert asked.
“I am a useless asset to the County. There is no reason to keep me.”
Bert looked confused by her bluntness.
“The Count’s behavior is irrational,” he insisted. “Why would he try to release you?”
“Because the Grimaldi line ends with me. I cannot bear heirs.”
She stated it with a clinical detachment, but the weight of the confession hung heavy in the air. Bert masked his shock, turning his attention back to Roy’s antics in the sea. Adi thought back to the Count’s cruel ultimatum.
He had told her she would never be more than a hidden lover if she couldn’t provide a legacy. She had been brave enough to tell him she would take Yuls for herself, but standing here now, the impossibility of that dream felt crushing.
“Adrina.”
“No…” she whispered.
Then she looked at him.
“Bert.”
She wanted him. She wanted this life, regardless of the cost.
“Will you stand with me?”
The request caught Bert off guard. It wasn’t the kind of thing a noble usually asked; they simply assumed loyalty. And it wasn’t something a commoner would dare to ask.
“My first loyalty is to His Excellency,” he said carefully.
The way Adi was sitting, combined with her hesitant plea, made her look incredibly vulnerable.
“However,” Bert continued, “as long as your path doesn’t cross his, I will be at your side.”
A small, fragile smile touched Adi’s lips.
“Sometimes, you really do feel like my own kin.”
The waves further out were violent and white, but here the shore was smooth, the water rolling in like silk and leaving behind delicate trails of foam. It was a beautiful sight, but she was too restless to find peace in it.
“Perhaps I just want to belong. When I first met all of you, you seemed so… whole. So connected.”
Her words tugged at his heart. He felt he couldn’t refuse her after that.
“You are my niece, Adi. That’s all there is to it.”
She looked at him and smiled again, though her eyes suggested she knew he was just being kind.
She wondered where the rot had started. If they hadn’t been born into this specific, tragic circumstance—if they had been different people—would they have found a happier ending?
Bert sighed heavily. Roy came jogging back, having wrestled his wet pants back on. He was carrying his boots and shaking the water from his hair like a dog. “Time to go!” he chirped. If he walked into the manor looking like a drowned rat, the staff would have a collective heart attack.
As it turned out, Roy’s appearance was the least of their concerns. Two days later, the Witch reappeared as abruptly as she had left.
“I have a plan,” she announced to the stunned household. “We’re going to give him the poison again.”