Chapter 15
Adrina was baffled by Adrian’s earlier remarks. The weight of her own life never felt like a burden to her. Despite the whispers of others, she lacked the emotional intimacy with them to be wounded by their words. Her recollections of Grimaldi were sparse: the biting chill of the stone fortress, freezing chambers, the comfort of Adrian’s presence, and that final, snowy winter of his passing.
“The winters there possessed a certain grace,” she mused. “Snow would linger until the arrival of spring. It wasn’t that the climate was exceptionally freezing, but the air was heavy with moisture, turning the frequent rain into white powder. When it fell through the night, it draped the world in a thick, silent shroud. Our home was buried in it.”
She wondered if the clarity of the memory stemmed from its sheer beauty, or something darker.
“I can still see the white expanse my twin crossed. I followed in the path he carved with his feet.”
Was it the tragedy of his death that burned the image into her mind?
“When Adi passed, the magnolias were in full bloom. Then, the snow began to fall.”
The memory of flakes drifting like pale petals remained vivid. She could still see the golden hair that had once framed Adrian’s face. She recalled her first time in a carriage, sitting across from Spencer Grimaldi as they coldly debated the inscription for a headstone.
In some ways, Adrian’s death still felt like a fiction. Yet, there were moments when she felt as though the better half of her soul had vanished with him.
“You referred to your brother as Adi,” Yuls remarked, his tone suggesting he found the choice peculiar.
“Is that not what they call you as well, my Lord?” she countered.
“It is.”
It was an odd coincidence. Even among twins, such overlapping identities were rare, yet these two had shared names that were nearly mirrors of one another.
“Adrian and… what was the other?”
“Adrina.”
The Duke nodded; the shared nickname made sense given the names.
“Now, I am the only one who answers to it,” she said softly.
The concept of survivor’s guilt was new to her. She began to wonder if Adrian had shown her kindness because he felt a sense of debt toward a sister whose life was so vastly different from his. If that were true, she realized she carried a similar weight.
“If you are asking if I feel a lingering remorse for being the one who lived, then yes. A small part of me does.”
“Your connection must have been profound.”
“I was under the impression you had siblings of your own, Your Grace.”
“There was no such bond between us,” Yuls replied.
His voice was so stripped of warmth that Adrina found herself unable to continue that line of conversation.
“Ours is not a family of affection,” he added. “We were half-siblings, after all.”
This was news to her. While the nobility often kept mistresses, a household usually centered around a single Countess, barring the royal line. She wondered if his siblings were born of unofficial unions.
“The world only knew the previous Duke’s wife, but my mother existed in the shadows,” he explained.
The situation was the reverse of what she had imagined. Adrina struggled to find the right words. Should she offer sympathy? She worried that his status as a child of a mistress might be a political liability. However, since he had referred to Countess Connolly as his aunt, perhaps his mother had noble blood as well.
Regardless, the young man before her was the Duke. His parentage didn’t seem to hinder his authority, nor did he appear to view it as a secret to be ashamed of.
“I see,” was all she managed. Yuls watched her for a moment, his expression shifting into one of mild confusion.
The ledger of gifts contained nothing scandalous. There were several legendary gemstones listed—treasures Adrina had only heard of in stories—but the Duke dismissed them as common clutter he might trip over in his halls.
Adrina remained silent, wondering if his wealth rivaled the crown’s. Some of these stones were beyond the reach of the highest lords. But then, the master of the Oak Forest was often called the Woodpecker King. In a land where oaks represented eternal fortune, she couldn’t even fathom the scale of his domain. It surely made Grimaldi look like a mere village.
Bert returned as the sun began to dip below the horizon, looking refreshed and well-rested. He helped himself to the snacks meant for the guests and looked at Adrina. “That soldier you mentioned isn’t half bad,” he noted.
Despite his blunt manner, she answered calmly, “Is that so?”
Yuls looked between them, curious about the subject of their talk.
“We need to bolster your security, Grace,” Bert explained. “Two of us aren’t enough to cover everything.”
“I thought the 2nd Knights Order claimed their ranks were thin,” the Duke said.
“They found an opening. I’ve vetted the candidate; the details are here.”
Yuls took the papers but tossed them carelessly onto the pile of gift lists. Adrina winced at the thought of the documents getting lost, but she kept her thoughts to herself.
“Who is the candidate?”
“Roy Gallardo.”
“Gallardo,” Yuls repeated. “I know that name.”
“He hails from the South—”
“Ah, that family.”
There was a weight to the name that Adrina didn’t fully grasp. Her knowledge of southern politics was as thin as her understanding of the north.
“His talent is undeniable then,” Yuls concluded. He turned to Adrina. “Are you close with him?”
“No, I merely recognize him.”
“Truly?”
The Duke’s eyebrows rose, questioning why she would suggest someone she didn’t know. She couldn’t very well admit that Roy had cornered her and demanded his position back. Since they were shorthanded and he was eager, it seemed like a practical solution.
Yuls studied her in silence for a moment before turning back to Bert. Their voices dropped to a low murmur, accompanied by discreet gestures that made it clear Adrina was no longer part of the conversation.
She took it as her cue to leave, glad for an excuse to get away from the mountain of gift lists.
“If you’ll excuse me, Your Grace, since Sir Bert Dean has returned, I’ll take a walk around the grounds.”
She gathered her weapon and buckled it to her hip. Yuls gave a distracted nod. With a respectful bow, she exited the room and pulled the door shut behind her.
“He’s sharper than he looks,” Bert commented once she was gone.
Yuls nodded in agreement, though his mind was on the Grimaldi name. “It would be simpler if he were just a common sellsword.”
“The Grimaldi bloodline is a headache. I’m still trying to figure out why the 2nd Order sent him to us.”
“They likely didn’t realize he had any value,” Yuls suggested.
“True. His reputation in the 3rd Order was in the gutter.”
The ‘Dog of Pallesa,’ they called him.
“He does have a certain canine quality,” Yuls mused.
“Biting?”
“No, more like a faithful pet or a tracking hound.”
There was something about his demeanor—a quiet, almost gentle obedience. It was hard to reconcile that image with the brutal reputation of the 3rd Knights Order.
“Forget him for a moment,” Yuls said. “Tell me about Roy Gallardo. I thought that house had fallen.”
“He was taken in as a ward by his mother’s kin, the Grimaldis. He used their name until he reached his majority, then reclaimed his birthright immediately.”
“And the King permitted that?”
“That’s likely why he’s stationed here at the palace.”
“The crown isn’t known for such charity,” Yuls countered.
The King lived in a state of constant paranoia, surrounding himself only with a small, trusted circle. It was the reason the provincial lords held so little respect for the throne.
“You’re right,” Bert added. “Gallardo was actually supposed to be your primary escort. Adi Grimaldi was only sent because Gallardo was sidelined with an injury.”
“And yet, it was the Grimaldi boy who put his name forward.”
Yuls looked over the files on Roy Gallardo. His service record was clean, but he hadn’t been assigned to anyone significant before this. It meant his injury had happened during routine drills—an unlikely event for a knight about to start a high-profile escort mission.
“Something is off,” Yuls noted.
It felt as though someone had been trying to keep Gallardo away from him.
“It’s highly suspicious,” Bert agreed. “The fact that those two are even acquainted is a red flag. They—”
“Leave it for now,” Yuls interrupted, his interest waning.
“And the appointment?”
“If he’s capable, we’ll take him.”
“I’ll notify the Commander,” Bert said.
He made a mental note to dig deeper into the connection between Roy and Adi. He would start with direct questions, but he was prepared to move into the shadows if they proved elusive. In a place like this palace, secrets always left a trail.
Bert bowed and departed. Yuls turned back to the documents as a servant replaced his cold tea with a steaming cup. A faint smile touched his lips.
“So, a Gallardo joins the fray,” he whispered to the empty room.
He wasn’t exactly pleased, but the complexity of the situation appealed to him.
“This is getting interesting.”
