Ch#156
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Whispers began to spread throughout the region that Duke Woodpecker was preparing to host a grand gala.
This marked the very first formal celebration since the current Duke took his title. Naturally, people were divided on why he was throwing it now. Some argued it was a strategic move to silence talk about the devastation in the Oak Forest and project an image of unshakable power. Others were convinced he was finally ready to plant his flag in the South, having twice demonstrated in Ionad and Pallesa Palace that his infamous affliction no longer held sway over him.
Yet, the most startling rumor surfacing in the wake of the announcement concerned the identity of the Duke’s future wife.
In truth, that gossip hit closer to the mark than any other. Though Macauliffe might have disagreed, this event was fundamentally designed to validate Adi’s standing.
The real question was how Grimaldi would react to the news.
The Count had pushed his own child forward as a potential match even as tensions with the Duke reached a breaking point. While the man would have no authority at this gathering, Bert felt a spark of morbid curiosity. He wondered what kind of desperate gamble or scheme the Count might try to pull off next.
“They aren’t taking this well,” Gavin remarked, his attention fixed on the mountain of mail before him.
He was seated across from Bert, sorting through a crate overflowing with responses to the Duke’s invitations. Bert, who had been lounging lazily in his seat, sat up straight. Since Gavin hadn’t specified who he meant, Bert waited until the other man looked up and clarified.
“The Lintu household,” Gavin added.
“And why should we care?” Bert shrugged. Their discomfort was irrelevant to the Duke. It simply meant their play for influence had crashed and burned.
“I imagine Connolly is just as bitter,” Gavin noted.
“It makes no difference. His Excellency never promised them a thing.”
Bert was right. The Duke had never given Lea Connolly any reason to hope for a proposal. It was the surrounding nobility who had convinced themselves she was the only logical choice. Given her blood ties to the Duke and Lintu’s standing in the South, they felt they had a legitimate claim to the position.
“So, is the Duke actually going to present Adi as his choice?”
“That appears to be the plan.”
“Her name is going to be a massive hurdle. She’s a noble, but she’s viewed as a commoner by birth.”
“He’ll fix her lineage,” Bert said, dismissing the concern with a wave of his hand. “He sent Dimitri to Pallesa Palace for a reason. He’ll handle the legalities there.”
“Why send him all the way to Pallesa Palace instead of Ionad?”
“Because the legal authority in Pallesa Palace carries more weight,” Bert explained.
Even though the seat of power had shifted to Ionad, the high-ranking judicial experts who had spent their careers in Pallesa Palace remained loyal to their traditions rather than the monarch. The kingdom’s premier legal academy was still situated there. Depending on the gravity of a case, the judges could be summoned to Ionad, or the King himself might travel to them. It was the ideal location to restore the legitimacy of the Grimaldi name.
“Do you honestly think her status can be salvaged?” Gavin pressed.
“It would be simple if the Count cooperated, but he’ll never do that willingly. To acknowledge her would be to confess to his own crimes. For instance—”
“Like pretending his son is alive while claiming his daughter is in a grave?”
Bert gave a sharp nod. “That was the moment everything fractured.”
“It’s a tragedy, really.”
“For who? For Adi? Or for the Count?”
“For everyone involved, I suppose.”
“Stop talking nonsense,” Bert grunted.
He rubbed his scalp aggressively before standing and leaning against the chair’s armrest. Looking out the window, he watched the Knights drilling in the yard. Gavin followed his eyes to the training ground.
The ranks were a mix of common-born men like Bert and high-born nobles. Ever since the previous Duke’s passing and the subsequent upheaval, the order within Woodpecker had moved past class distinctions. However, that wasn’t the case in the rest of the world.
“The thing about nobles is…” Bert started. He was thinking specifically of those obsessed with bloodlines. “…they’ll often burn everything down just to keep their titles.”
Gavin looked over at him.
“I’m worried Woodpecker might face that same kind of rot one day.”
“I can’t see that happening with someone like Adi around,” Gavin countered.
“Adi, sure. She’s different.”
“And the Duke?”
Gavin fell silent. He had seen enough of the aristocracy to know there were no guarantees. Still, the Duke had always seemed cut from a different cloth.
“As long as his devotion to Adi remains, he won’t lose his way.”
“You think he’s capable of changing?”
“Who can say for sure?”
If the Duke inherited his father’s temperament, things might get complicated.
“The old Duke never stopped loving the Witch,” Bert reminded him.
“I know. That’s exactly why he assigned you to protect his son,” Gavin said with a dry laugh. “He wanted to ensure that even if his other heirs perished, this one would endure.”
Bert’s expression soured.
“He wanted him to be the last one standing.”
That was the reality of the previous Duke’s affection—it was a suffocating, possessive force. The Witch had mirrored that intensity. Even now, the memory of those years made Bert’s skin crawl.
“We just have to stay on the sidelines, Bert. It’s the only hand we have to play.”
*
In contrast to most lords who wed in their youth, the Duke of Woodpecker had remained unattached for years. It wasn’t for a lack of suitors; rather, he simply ignored anyone who didn’t force themselves into his orbit. Many had tried, of course.
“My lady.”
He simply hadn’t cared for any of them.
“The textiles have been delivered.”
Adi had been distracted by a small white bird on the windowsill, but she turned back at the sound of the voice. A row of housemaids stood at the entrance, their posture and synchronization more disciplined than a military unit.
“We are here to begin work on your formal wear, my lady.”
They had brought several crates filled with a dazzling array of colorful silks and fabrics.
“Is there a specific shade you prefer?”
“I trust your professional judgment more than my own,” Adi replied.
The maids traded quick nods and began sorting through the materials they believed would best complement her. Next, they presented a collection of gems. While color theory usually dictated such choices, Adi’s golden hair and dark eyes made her an easy canvas for almost any palette.
The Head Maid, a lean woman of advanced years, stepped forward. She took a sample of the cloth and draped it over Adi’s arm to test the look against her skin. The fabric was soft and cool.
“Typically, these gowns sacrifice comfort for beauty, but our instructions were to create something both graceful and practical, fitting for a Knight. Given the season, I suggest we use layers of breathable silk rather than anything heavy or restrictive. We will likely need several fitting sessions to ensure you can move freely. Does that suit you?”
Adi didn’t respond immediately, studying the woman instead.
She had grown up with the idea that maids were supposed to be soft-spoken and perpetually pleasant—at least, that was how the staff at the Count’s estate had behaved around Yvette. The servants here were different. They were stern, driven by a fierce sense of duty and craftsmanship. They didn’t see the point in forced smiles when there was work to be done.
“That is fine,” Adi said.
“We will prepare a variety of styles. Your skin tone is versatile, but a deep crimson to match the Duke’s hair would be striking. Since the party is in the woods, we will also incorporate greens. We’ll skip white to avoid stains, though we could certainly use it to flaunt the Duke’s wealth if you wish—to show that we don’t care about such minor inconveniences.”
Adi wondered if they were genuinely seeking her input or just testing her.
“Furthermore.”
Dimitri had mentioned that these details were usually the domain of the lady of the house. Since no engagement had been made public, this entire process felt like a calculated performance—either the charade was being played with incredible commitment, or…
“We are also designing a gray gown to represent the Grimaldi lineage. Gray can be dull, so we’ve been told to accent it with delicate lace, pearls, and diamonds.”
Or perhaps they were preparing to make her position permanent.
“The reason for the Grimaldi colors is…”
Adi had no one to turn to for clarification. She knew nobles were expected to read between the lines and understand these social maneuvers instinctively, but she felt out of her depth. She needed to sharpen her wits if she was going to survive this.
This was the path to destroying the Count and the Viscount.
“If the event is a success,” the Head Maid continued, pausing for a beat. It wasn’t official yet, but the staff had already reached their own conclusions. “This attire will likely serve you during the wedding rites.”
Adi looked the woman in the eye. For a moment, their silent stares met, each trying to gauge the other’s thoughts.
“I understand. I’ll leave the details to you.”
With those words, Adi followed the unspoken rules of the court, acknowledging the reality of her situation. Outside, the bird chirped one last time before soaring away into the sky.