Chapter 16
Roy Gallardo studied Adi with an unreadable intensity. It was a mutual state of confusion; Adi could not decipher his thoughts, and Roy found Adi Grimaldi equally opaque.
“I did mention this position belonged to me,” Roy remarked.
His voice was hushed, barely more than a murmur to himself, yet the words carried clearly through the air.
“What is your point exactly?” Adi countered.
Roy hesitated, his lips moving as he searched for a response. He felt he should offer his gratitude, yet the sentiment felt wrong in his mouth. He was thankful, certainly, but he lacked the desire to actually voice it.
The previous night, a messenger from the Duke had visited him. The servant had outlined a strict list of prohibitions for anyone serving as the Duke’s personal protection. While such rules were standard in the profession, Roy had never encountered a list so meticulously demanding. Even as he listened to the instructions, a sense of skepticism had taken root.
Within the walls of Pallesa Palace, Adi Grimaldi’s volatile reputation was legendary among the military ranks. Before being knighted into an official order, every page resided in the northern wing with the 3rd Knights Order. In such a closed environment, news traveled like wildfire.
It was unheard of for someone like Adi Grimaldi to enter the fold from the outside. In the history of Pallesa, such an exception had occurred only twice—once for her, and once for a royal prince two decades prior.
The typical path involved entering the palace as a youth, undergoing rigorous training, and receiving a permanent assignment within the grounds. Despite the recent rise of private academies, the royal estates remained the premier institutions for martial study. Both Pallesa and Ionad claimed superiority, but regardless of their rivalry, they were the undisputed elite of Dalkatir.
Adi Grimaldi was an anomaly; she had never been a palace page. Had she transferred from Ionad, the local knights would have despised her for the rivalry alone, but she lacked even the most basic qualifications. The rumor that she had been knighted directly by the prince only fueled the resentment of the pages. Furthermore, her father, Spencer Grimaldi, had deep roots in Ionad as a former page, which only added to the friction.
The Grimaldi name carried no weight in Pallesa, which likely explained why the local knights and pages harbored such a specific, pointed loathing for her.
Despite this, Roy never assumed Adi was foolish enough to simply surrender her post. Her departure from the role was a stroke of luck for him, finally allowing him to secure his ambition as Duke Woodpecker’s personal guard.
“If you have something on your mind, speak plainly,” Adi challenged.
However, the reality remained.
“…It would have been helpful to know we were understaffed beforehand,” Roy muttered.
Adi Grimaldi was still very much a part of the Duke’s security detail.
“This is my first time in a guard role as well,” she admitted.
Roy considered that she must have had training, then realized that since she wasn’t a former page, she would have missed the standard orientation provided to new knights.
“The 2nd Knights Order failed to brief me on anything,” she added.
It was clear to Roy that she was being systematically excluded. Men were rarely as easygoing as they pretended to be; they were often driven by petty resentments and deep-seated insecurities.
Roy knew this better than most. His delicate, handsome features had made his time as a page a nightmare of harassment. Bullying took many forms, but the most depraved was the sexual predation that occurred in the shadows of the barracks.
He suspected the 2nd Knights Order of Pallesa was so formidable only because they had been forced to fight desperately to protect themselves as children. This shared trauma created a bond far tighter than that of the 3rd Order.
Had Adi Grimaldi started as a page in Pallesa, her experience might have been the same. With a face like hers, surviving the 3rd Order would have been an ordeal. Roy felt a sudden, strange flicker of empathy for her, but he quickly suppressed it. She was still an interloper.
Bert interrupted his thoughts as he walked into the room. He noted how Adi and Roy sat at opposite ends of the table, find it remarkable that two people could share a surface while maintaining such a vast emotional distance. He had been under the impression they were allies.
“Is there trouble between you two? The mood here is freezing,” Bert observed.
They looked like total strangers. It baffled him how they had come to recommend one another.
“Where is His Excellency?” Roy asked.
“The staff are attending to him, so he’s fine for now.”
Bert pulled out a chair and joined them, signaling that their safety was not currently at risk.
“Now, let’s coordinate our efforts.”
The meeting felt almost unnecessary to Roy. The Duke was not an active man; the primary task was simply carving up the clock.
“With the three of us, we’ll split the day into eight-hour rotations. To avoid burning anyone out on the night shift, we’ll rotate the slots periodically,” Bert explained.
He motioned for them to lean in closer.
“We will meet every morning at eight while the Duke eats. That’s when we’ll finalize the day’s plan. It’s vital you share what you see—specifically, who he meets. Some nobles take it as a personal insult if a guard doesn’t recognize them, even if they wouldn’t know that same guard in a lineup.”
Roy inclined his head in understanding. This was new information for Adi.
“The schedule is flexible. Adi, what’s your preference?” Bert asked.
“Any time is fine with me.”
“And you, Roy?”
“The same.”
Neither of them looked at the other.
“Just how do you two know each other, anyway?” Bert asked.
“We don’t,” Adi replied instantly.
Bert’s expression soured. He was confused why she would recommend a man she didn’t even know.
Roy stared at her, stunned by her lack of tact. He wondered if she had any social awareness at all. Even if they were strangers, basic survival in high society dictated that they should have aligned their stories. His fears about her common sense were proving well-founded.
“She cornered me and demanded the job, claiming it was hers,” Roy explained. “I figured it was fine since we needed the help.”
Bert looked from the arrogant woman who demanded a post to the man who was foolish enough to give it to her. Roy’s face had gone pale with anxiety, a reaction that was bound to raise red flags. Bert and Yuls had approved the hire because his background was clean, but they hadn’t expected the recruitment process to be so chaotic. When Bert didn’t speak, Roy tried to salvage the situation.
“I felt it was the role I was meant for.”
“Is that so? A man of your talents could find work anywhere. We’re only here for a single season. It would be far more relaxing to guard a minor royal or a noblewoman,” Bert noted.
“I prefer this assignment.”
Bert leaned in. “Do you prefer the job, or do you prefer Yuls Woodpecker?”
“I don’t follow.”
“I’m asking if you have a preference for men.”
Roy was speechless. There was no way to answer that didn’t sound incriminating. He had no romantic interest in men, but he couldn’t exactly confess his singular obsession with the Duke either.
“Or was our Duke your specific target all along?” Bert pressed.
Roy remained silent, which Bert took as a confirmation of sorts.
“It probably would have been simpler for you if you’d used your godson’s surname,” Bert remarked.
Roy’s voice shook. “You knew?”
Adi watched them, realizing there was a history between these two that she didn’t fully grasp.
“The Duke is aware as well,” Bert said.
Adi had no desire to pry into their secrets.
“He said he didn’t mind,” Bert concluded.
Since no orders had been given to remove Roy, Adi was content to let it be and hope the season passed quickly. She wondered who was starting the first watch.
“Roy will take the morning, and Adi, you have the evening,” Bert decided. Roy would work from eight until four, Adi from four until midnight, and Bert would cover the graveyard shift. Adi recognized the kindness in Bert giving her the more manageable hours.
“Let’s make this work,” Bert said, standing up.
He headed toward the room on the far left to catch some sleep. Adi turned her attention to Roy, whose bags were still piled where he’d left them that morning.
“I’m taking the room on the far right. Bert has the left. You get the middle one. That’s what happens when you’re the last to arrive,” Adi told him.
The middle room was notoriously loud and inconvenient. Roy’s expression showed he accepted the drawback, but he lingered.
“Hey.”
“What?” Adi asked.
“Are you aware… that people say terrible things about you?”
“I am.”
Roy wanted to ask why she didn’t try to change, but he stopped himself. He realized that if she softened her edge, she would likely be crushed by the people here. Perhaps this abrasive persona was her only means of survival.
She might be doing more than just surviving. He had heard the story of her maiming a man’s genitals and thought she was a lunatic. As a man, the idea was horrifying. Yet, Roy was the beneficiary of her actions. He forced himself to say the words he had been avoiding.
“Thank you. Truly.”
The sincerity caught Adi off guard. She looked at him, surprised.
“I needed to be here,” Roy added, his voice heavy with unspoken meaning.
Adi wondered for a moment if he was an assassin. But since the Duke and Bert had vetted him, she decided it wasn’t her problem.
“If you’re really thankful, you can owe me a favor,” she said.
Roy didn’t respond. He had no intention of being in her debt, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie about it either.
