Chapter 18
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Adi had barely finished washing up—her hair still dripping—when she left the Outer Palace quarters and returned to the Duke’s residence. On her way in, she crossed paths with Bert, who looked like he had only just rolled out of bed.
Bert took one look at her damp head and scolded her, warning that she was asking for a cold if she didn’t dry off. He lectured her about how the youth think they are invincible, but that she would regret such carelessness once she reached his age. Adi offered a polite nod in response to his fussing.
The man let out a massive, uninhibited yawn, showing none of the rigid poise expected of a high-ranking escort. It seemed perfection was a professional requirement only; very few maintained such a facade in their off-hours.
“Have you had your midday meal?” he asked.
“Not yet. I was out for a run.”
Bert looked impressed. “Training during your personal time? You’ve got spirit. You’d better eat your fill, then.”
He began walking toward the dining area. When Adi hesitated, questioning whether she should fix her hair first, he waved the concern away, claiming it would air-dry eventually. His sudden reversal on the health risks of wet hair was baffling, but Adi’s stomach was empty enough that she decided not to argue and followed him.
The Inner Palace kitchen was surprisingly skilled. Compared to the fare at the Outer Palace or the 3rd Order, this was a significant upgrade. While it might not have been high art, it was a far cry from the basic slabs of meat served at standard barracks. She wondered if this was the daily standard for the Duke’s personal guard. The sugary treats at the end, however, were not to her liking.
“Pallesa has its charms, but the kitchen is lacking,” Bert remarked. “Ionad usually puts out a better spread.”
“Is that right?”
“The Duke’s estate is excellent, too.”
“Grimaldi is bland,” Adi countered.
Bert paused. “Grimaldi… food isn’t exactly what they’re known for. What was their claim to fame again?”
“The witch trials?”
“……”
The silence that followed was heavy. That was indeed their primary reputation. Bert fidgeted, searching for a more pleasant topic before snapping his fingers in realization.
“Right! They say the region produces the most beautiful people!”
“A large number were executed during the purges,” Adi noted, “but the rumors of their beauty have persisted for generations.”
“Well, looking at you, the rumors hold water. Are the men all that striking?”
“I don’t make a habit of studying men’s features, so I wouldn’t know.”
“Ah, so you prefer looking at the women?”
Given the constant presence of housemaids, she had certainly seen more female faces than male ones. When Adi remained silent, Bert gave her a knowing pat on the shoulder, muttering something about how boys will be boys.
Whatever assumptions he was making were far from the reality, but Adi saw no reason to correct him.
Bert dominated the table talk. He grumbled about how stagnant the palace felt after so many years and complained that he’d already seen every sight worth seeing. Noticing Adi’s solitary habits, he offered to act as a guide to some of the better local spots.
Adi had been focused on her plate, ignoring his chatter, but she realized this was a natural opening to broach a difficult subject. She cut through his rambling.
“Sir.”
“Hmm? You have a specific place in mind?”
“The Duke,” she began. “He has faced many attempts on his life, hasn’t he?”
The sudden shift from tourism to assassination attempts took Bert by surprise. Still, as it pertained to their mission, it was a valid inquiry.
He briefly considered telling her to leave work talk for the training grounds, but since Adi was actually initiating a conversation for once, he indulged her. He leaned in, curious to see where she was going with this. “He has,” he confirmed.
“Does that hold true here in Pallesa as well?”
“Constantly.”
“I assume they strike at any hour?”
“They try, though the cover of night is the preferred time for that sort of business.”
“Is that why you personally oversee the night watch, Sir?”
The question had a sharp edge to it. Bert’s eyes narrowed as he studied her. He couldn’t tell if she was probing for a weakness or if there was a deeper motive at play. He decided to be blunt.
“Are you suggesting I kept you off the night rotation because I don’t trust you?”
“No,” Adi replied.
If not that, then why ask? Before Bert could press her, she continued.
“Actually, it would be logical for you to doubt me. I am a new transfer to the 2nd Order, and beyond that…”
She looked down at the table. She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if the true Adrian were sitting in this chair.
Adrina lacked the lifelong grooming her brother had received. Despite her frantic, late-night studying, she couldn’t perfectly mimic a lifetime of natural upbringing.
What if her brother had been the sturdy one, and she had been the one to wither away? What if she was the one in the dirt right now?
How would Adrian have navigated this? The pressures of the capital. The secret commands from Grimaldi.
“Beyond what?” Bert prompted.
“I am a Grimaldi,” she said simply.
“I was under the impression you didn’t care for politics.”
“My knowledge is limited, but I am not blind to the world.”
Bert nodded, accepting her honesty. He doubted Spencer Grimaldi would raise a fool, yet the version of Adrian before him felt strangely unpolished—as if his very nature was slightly out of sync with his surroundings.
“There is plenty of friction in Pallesa,” Adi said, “and considering my Grimaldi…”
She didn’t call him ‘father.’ It sounded more like she was referring to a distant landlord or a commanding officer.
“I assumed our houses were not on friendly terms.”
“You don’t seem particularly close with your Grimaldi either,” Bert observed, looking confused.
Based on the correspondence he’d seen, their bond seemed functional, perhaps even warm. He had thought Spencer Grimaldi possessed a hidden soft spot for his heir, but her tone suggested otherwise.
“There is no affection between us.”
Bert wondered if the letters had been a performance for the benefit of those intercepting them.
“We are merely two people sharing a name,” Adi stated.
She harbored a deep resentment for the house of Grimaldi—a hatred even more profound than the one she felt when she was the ignored, lesser twin. Even the ‘favored’ child lived in a state of constant unease. Though calling it favoritism felt wrong… perhaps it was just a different kind of burden.
It wasn’t that their father loved either of them. He simply weighed their utility. He had calculated who was the better tool, who would carry the legacy, and who deserved the investment of power. He had chosen the other Adi first.
Now that one was gone, she had simply stepped into the vacancy. Perhaps the name was always meant to be a replaceable mask.
“Why bring this up now?” Bert asked.
Adi went quiet for a beat before speaking. She thought of the assassin. “I was thinking,” she said. “Perhaps we should bolster the Duke’s security.”
She wondered if asking too many questions would betray her orders. But she needed to know. Was this the ‘waiting’ her father had mentioned? If so, how had the Count known she would end up in the 2nd Order? His influence seemed to permeate everything, just as the secret message had warned.
“Double the guard?” Bert repeated, watching her closely. It was a strange suggestion coming from someone who had previously claimed the Duke didn’t need an escort at all.
They sat in a silent stalemate, watching one another. Neither could catch a glimpse of the secrets hidden behind the other’s eyes.
*
After their meal, they made their way back to the main house. With her shift approaching, Adi changed into her gear and headed to the reception area. Roy Gallardo was already there, leaning against the furniture. The doors to the inner sanctum were shut tight. He spoke as she drew near.
“You were spying on us earlier, weren’t you?”
“The window was open and the weather was pleasant,” she replied. “You just happened to be in my line of sight.”
“I’m sure.”
Roy didn’t claim to know her well, but he’d pegged her as someone who generally didn’t care about the world around her. He suspected she’d find a simple greeting too taxing and would rather just pull the blinds and disappear. Her detached nature made him uneasy.
“The woman he saw today is the Lintu family’s second daughter. She’s been pining for the Duke since they were children.”
“How are you privy to that?”
“I’m a Southerner.”
He was referring to the Duke and the Lintus, implying he shared their regional ties.
“So you were already acquainted?”
When Adi asked, Roy’s expression soured and he looked away.
“What?”
“Sometimes I wonder if you were ever taught basic manners.”
“Perhaps there was a flaw in the Grimaldi curriculum,” she said dryly.
“Clearly. He failed you in that department.”
Only Adrian had been the focus of their father’s tutelage, and even that was questionable. Spencer Grimaldi had ordered her education, but he had never bothered to oversee it himself.
“I spent more time in the capital than at the estate,” she added.
The instructors who had molded her brother were the same ones who ‘re-educated’ her. They called her ‘Adrian’ without a hint of hesitation. To her, they were all just puppets dancing on her father’s strings.
“I assume you received your knighthood from the Crown Prince then?”
“Yes. During my first trip to the capital. That was the first time I ever laid eyes on him.”
In truth, the real Adrian had never set foot in the capital. The title and the blade had been delivered to her through her father. If the Crown Prince walked into the room this second, she wouldn’t even know his face.
“Who was at the luncheon?” she asked.
“Kenneth Marks.”
“And who is that?”
Roy groaned. “You don’t even know your own commander? He leads the 2nd Order. They were discussing the protection details.”
He let out a frustrated huff. “That bastard never intended to assign me to the Duke.”
“That same bastard failed to mention the 2nd Order has its own training facilities,” Adi countered. “That’s why I ended up at the Northern Palace getting into brawls.”
“…They probably thought you went there specifically to pick a fight.”
Adi hadn’t thought much of the incident, but Roy’s grimace made her reconsider.
“Stop by when you’re off duty,” Roy said. “I’ll show you where our grounds are.”
He held up a hand before she could respond. “It’s not a favor. I owe you for the other day, so consider this a debt paid.”
Adi arched an eyebrow. She realized that, despite his rough edges, he might actually be decent company.
