Ch#169
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Joel scrutinized Adi. His gaze swept over her, searching for any hint of mistreatment within the cell blocks, yet he found her in perfectly normal condition. It was evident that no violence or coercive interrogation had occurred during her stay.
Once satisfied with her health, Joel addressed the legal counsel, who was currently occupied with a stack of documents. He announced his completion and stepped aside for the other man to proceed. The lawyer adjusted himself in his seat. It struck him that this warrior must hold significant value to her patrons if they dispatched a recovery specialist just for a prison consultation. Then again, he recalled some mention of her being a betrothed.
Settling in, he began the briefing.
“To start, your hearing is scheduled four days from today. I moved as fast as possible, though it required a bit of financial persuasion to clear the path.”
“A payout? Are you saying the magistrate was bought off?”
“Hardly. I merely shoved aside someone else’s court date. Dalkatir’s bureaucracy is obsessed with specific timing for these matters. I fail to see the logic in their calendar, but the powers that be are quite stubborn about it.”
A look of lingering confusion crossed the lawyer’s features. He could understand avoiding major state holidays, but the criteria for selecting active court days remained baffling to him.
“The royal household sets the pace, yet they insist on consulting a foreign religious state for the auspiciousness of the dates. To make it worse, they claimed they couldn’t hold trials during the harvest lest the sight of executions spoil the mood—or some such nonsense.”
While the rest of the world toasted to the autumn bounty, the season was a financial desert for his profession. Legal proceedings became nearly non-existent during this period. He usually made his living in the dead of winter or the height of summer, making this autumn case a stroke of luck.
“Rest assured, your safety isn’t at risk. Regardless of the legal drama, you are the true-born daughter of Count Grimaldi, after all.”
Adi watched him in silence as he chatted. There was something refreshing about his bluntness despite the stakes, even if his casual demeanor felt alien to her. She was used to the rigid discipline of the knightly orders and the stiff formality of the aristocracy.
“Is there a problem with my face?”
“I was simply noting how freely you speak.”
“At this moment, you are technically without rank, whereas I hold a recognized status. I believe I am being exceptionally polite given the circumstances.”
If he possessed a higher rank, he was likely a member of the nobility himself, despite his lack of traditional decorum.
“I will provide the proper respect once your title is officially restored.”
The lawyer slid the contract toward her.
“The Duke and the Count have come to terms. In exchange for ignoring his personal legal indiscretions, the Count has agreed to testify. He will appear in person to confirm your lineage.”
Adi scanned the pages. The script was elegant and the language direct, making the details easy to grasp. It outlined the specifics of their pact and the logistical steps of the upcoming trial.
“If that holds, the path is clear. The goal is a full exoneration from the Chief Justice that same afternoon. You’ll walk out a free woman, so you only need to tolerate this cell for a few more days.”
Despite seeing the agreement in black and white, Adi remained skeptical. She couldn’t picture Spencer acting as promised. He wasn’t the type to follow a script provided by others.
He had always been a man defined by his volatility.
“Is there a backup plan?”
“Whatever for?”
“A strategy for if things fall apart.”
“You certainly have a talent for inventing worries.”
The lawyer looked at her with genuine surprise. He had managed countless cases, but this one was remarkably straightforward. The fact that their defense was rooted in objective truth gave them an immense advantage. Usually, he had to weave a narrative out of half-truths, but here, they had a star witness in the Count.
“Nothing will go wrong.”
“Are you a southerner?”
Adi’s question came out sharper than she intended. The lawyer’s brow furrowed for a second before he regained his cool.
“If you think Duke Woodpecker picked me out of some regional bias, you’re mistaken. I hail from the East.”
“I didn’t mean to be rude.”
Adi realized her tone might have mirrored Spencer’s own condescension.
“It’s just…”
She wondered if this man truly grasped the nature of the North. Spencer hadn’t been to the capital or the palace in years. Since he hadn’t been part of the social or legal circles here, the lawyer couldn’t possibly understand the man’s true character.
“You should be more cautious.”
The lawyer observed her. Her face was a mask, the kind worn by someone who had been conditioned to keep their internal world a secret.
“Point taken. I will keep that in mind.”
Dalkatir was a place where the elite ignored the opinions of the masses, operating by their own internal compass.
“On that note, Sir Adrina Dean, there are two rules you must follow.”
While he was seasoned in the law, defending someone accused of impersonating a traitor was a unique challenge. Usually, such charges ended in a quick execution. He checked his notes.
“First, remain as quiet as possible during the proceedings.”
He didn’t take her for the type to cause a scene, but desperation could make anyone act out.
“And as for the second…”
He paused, looking a bit embarrassed by the sheer absurdity of the instruction.
“I have no clue why my client insisted on this, but…”
He rubbed his neck before delivering the final demand.
“You are not to smile.”
“……”
Adi’s eyes shifted toward Joel. He immediately looked away, his posture radiating a desperate plea of ignorance.
“I understand.”
She knew the reason. A smile would make her resemblance to the Count undeniable and perhaps too unsettling for the court.
*
The final four days passed in a blur that was neither fast nor slow. Life in the cell was tolerable, if dull, though a smuggled book provided some distraction. However, she spent more time with Yuls’s brief letter than the novel.
He had written to apologize for his absence and asked her to be patient. Those few lines, wrapped in uncharacteristic warmth, sent a strange shiver through her.
She wanted to write back, but while she had paper, writing instruments were forbidden as potential weapons.
The thought of using a pen to kill had never occurred to her, but as a soldier, she recognized the tactical logic. A sharp nib to a vital point would be lethal. Why hadn’t she considered that? After a moment of professional reflection, Adi returned to her reading by the candle’s glow, though her eyes kept drifting back to his message.
Tomorrow was the trial. Tomorrow, she would see Yuls and the others again. A soft curve touched her lips as she thought of the bonds she had formed in such a short time. Looking out at the night sky, she saw a moon so vibrant it nearly outshone her candle.
Then, the rhythm of boots echoed in the corridor.
Adi sharpened her focus. She had the guard rotations memorized, and the moon wasn’t high enough for a shift change yet. This was an unscheduled arrival.
She stared at the door, wondering if the visitor was for her, for Lev, or someone else.
The footsteps were precise and controlled—the gait of a trained individual.
There were two of them. A guard and a guest, perhaps. The sound grew louder until it stopped right outside her iron-bound door.
There was no whispering, no sound of a bribe being paid. Instead, the heavy door groaned open.
Adi prepared to face an intruder, but her defensive posture melted the moment she saw the man holding the light.
“Your Excellency.”
She hadn’t expected him until the morning. Caught off guard, she stood up quickly. Yuls offered a gentle smile.
“Adrina.”
She walked toward him, still processing his presence. Yuls watched her with an expression of pure affection. As she moved, her hair, now a bit longer than before, brushed her shoulders. Yuls set the light aside and reached out, capturing a lock of her hair and pressing his lips to it. He looked as though he wanted to kiss her everywhere.
Then she spoke, effectively breaking the spell.
“Did you have to pay them off?”
“The guards, I mean.”
“No, I came through official channels.”
Yuls looked at the ceiling, a dry chuckle escaping him. He had sprinted through his paperwork and navigated a maze of bureaucracy just to see her, only for her to assume he’d bribed the jailer.
Overcome by her relentless practicality, Yuls leaned his head down and laughed until his shoulders shook.
Adi watched him, confused. She remembered Spencer using coins to gain entry and assumed it was the standard procedure. She didn’t mind his laughter; if he was happy, she was content to wait.
Yuls eventually leaned in, his voice a soft murmur against her cheek.
“I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”