Translator: Nox

Chapter 19

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Mutual cooperation. It was a phrase that felt foreign on Adi’s tongue. She associated such concepts with friendship, a bond she had never actually experienced. Aside from her own siblings, she had never known the warmth of a close companion.

She stared blankly into the distance, her mind struggling to process this alien emotion before she eventually pushed it aside. Her personal feelings were irrelevant to the task at hand.

“There is something else I’m curious about,” she said.

“Beyond the location of the training grounds?”

“You promised to reveal that later.”

“Go on, then. Ask.”

“Why did you…”

She trailed off, wondering what could have possessed Roy Gallardo to go to such lengths to be present. They clearly shared a history, yet there was a hidden layer to their connection that remained a mystery to her. She hesitated, fearing that asking about his motives so directly might seem inappropriate.

Roy, sensing her hesitation, looked away. The sound of a door opening drew their attention as the Duke emerged alongside Bert. Roy gave Adi a quick nudge and lowered his voice. “We’ll finish this later.”

“Greetings, Your Grace.”

“You did well today, Sir Roy Gallardo.”

Roy offered a deep bow. The Duke then shifted his focus, calling out to his attendant. “Adi.”

“I am here, Your Grace.”

“Cancel the plans for this afternoon. We are returning to yesterday’s work.”

“……”

“You will be assisting me personally.”

Adi weighed her options: standing perfectly still for hours or poring over stacks of parchment. If forced to choose, she decided that the documents were the lesser of two evils.

*

As the shift change neared, Bert Dean arrived to see the Duke, his expression clouded with gravity. The two men retreated into the private quarters of the drawing room for a hushed discussion. Roy had no way of knowing the specifics, but Bert’s grim demeanor suggested a situation of significant weight. He could only hope that he wasn’t the source of the trouble.

Once Bert and Roy departed for the barracks, only Adi Grimaldi and the Duke remained in the room. Roy had achieved his goal of being stationed here, but walking back with Bert felt suffocatingly tense.

Bert Dean was a legend—once among the most formidable knights in Pallesa before he eventually chose to serve the house of Woodpecker.

“So, tell me,” Bert began. “How was your first day on this assignment?”

“His Grace was quite accommodating, which made the transition easy.”

“Accommodating? He left you baking under a relentless sun.”

Bert made a clicking sound of disapproval.

“It wasn’t intentional. The meeting was slated for the drawing room, but the Lintyu delegation requested the garden to enjoy the weather.”

“I am aware,” Bert replied.

“I was told you were quite insistent on joining the escort.”

“That is correct.”

“And yet Kenneth seemed determined to keep you away.”

“I doubt he had any specific malice in mind,” Roy replied.

It was a blatant falsehood.

“I assume he simply followed protocol, given that Adi Grimaldi is still a novice.”

Roy knew better. The fact that Kenneth Marks had recruited a green knight into the 2nd Knights Order during this specific season proved he never intended for Roy Gallardo to have the position. Roy had pressured Adi to get his way, but even he was surprised it had actually worked.

Bert found the situation intriguing. Was that faction finally making their move?

“Let’s assume that’s the case for now,” Bert said, taking a seat.

“What are you truly after?”

Bert looked up at the knight still standing before him. He gestured toward a chair, complaining that his neck was cramping from the angle. Roy sat down across from him. Bert leaned forward, resting his weight on the table to close the distance between them.

“Is this about restoring your family name? Is that your aim, Sir?”

“The moment my name was returned to me, I considered my family’s legacy secured.”

“Then is it vengeance? Do you seek the blood of those who ruined your house?”

Bert’s eyes narrowed. “If you are here because your enemies happen to be the Duke’s enemies…”

“Sir, my reasons are—”

“I don’t mind,” Bert interrupted.

The response caught Roy off guard. He had anticipated a lecture on loyalty or a rejection based on his ulterior motives. Instead, Bert’s tone was almost refreshing.

“The enemy of my enemy is a partner, is he not?”

“That is sufficient for you?”

“Do you see a problem with it?”

“No, I suppose not. But…”

“Then it’s settled. We were in need of an asset on our side regardless.”

It was clear that Woodpecker was orchestrating its own play. If they had a use for him, Roy knew he had to seize the chance.

“The real wildcard is Adi Grimaldi,” Bert added.

He tilted his head in thought. “Kenneth clearly placed Adi in the order to block you, yet it was Adi who handed you the position. It makes one wonder.”

Bert couldn’t decide if Count Grimaldi was playing a deeper game or if Adi was simply acting out of spite.

“Furthermore…”

Adi’s suggestion to bolster the security detail felt like a deliberate hint.

Was it a subtle threat? Or just a passing thought?

He knew he wouldn’t get a straight answer even if he asked. People rarely bared their souls just because they were invited to. One could only guess at the subtext. A comment like that was never empty.

Adi Grimaldi or Spencer Grimaldi—who was pulling the strings?

He decided there was time to observe. Eventually, the Grimaldi family’s true colors would show. For the moment, Bert focused his attention back on the man in front of him.

“Now, Sir Roy Gallardo, what exactly is your plan of action?”

He needed to calculate how to deploy this new piece on the board and how it would ripple through Woodpecker’s interests.

Meanwhile, the Duke’s search remained an enigma. He addressed Adi without looking up from the gift inventory she was sorting.

“Bert mentioned your suggestion to increase the guard.”

Adi paused her work. The Duke’s eyes never left the list.

“Do you have information I don’t?”

“I do not, Your Grace.”

“Then why suggest it?”

“…Because the silence felt too heavy.”

Yuls looked up, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “Peaceful?” He stared at her, waiting for a more logical explanation.

“Tragedy usually strikes the moment one feels most secure,” she explained.

“Are you implying I am being reckless?”

“That was not my intent, Your Grace.”

“I will consider your counsel.”

“I wouldn’t presume to offer you advice.”

“Adi Grimaldi.”

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“Stop arguing and find the item.”

Adi thought it was unfair; he was the one who had interrupted her work. At this pace, they would be searching for an eternity. She finally stopped flipping through the ledgers. “Your Grace.”

“What is it?”

“I hope I am not overstepping, but…”

She cut herself short. If she were speaking to Spencer, such an interruption would have been met with harsh punishment. As she debated whether to stay silent, Yuls prompted her.

“Continue.”

The response was unexpected. Spencer would never have entertained her curiosity.

“We are going in circles. Could you describe the object we are looking for?”

“No.”

For a moment, she thought he was just as difficult as Spencer Grimaldi. But then Yuls spoke again.

“I have no idea what it looks like. I only know that it is currently in my possession.”

“How can you be certain it’s here if you don’t know what it is?”

“A Witch informed me.”

“A Witch?”

“The last of her kind in Dalkatir.”

Adi realized the person he had visited previously wasn’t a mere mystic or fortune-teller. It was a Witch. She wondered why one would hide in such a place, given that Dalkatir remained a hostile environment for them despite the end of the Great Hunts.

“She claims to know the secret to lifting my curse. Though the details were vague.”

“…So she cannot break it herself?”

“Only the one who placed the hex can undo it.”

“If you were the target, surely you know who the caster was?”

Yuls met her gaze with a heavy silence before nodding. “I know.”

“But she is no longer among the living.”

“She told me the traditional cure, but it’s a fantasy. It’s not a viable option.”

“What do you mean?”

“The classic remedy.”

Adi assumed he meant the death of the caster, but since the Witch was already dead and the curse remained, there had to be another way.

“True love’s kiss,” he said with a dry laugh.

He gestured to his small frame. At twenty-six, he looked like a mere boy.

“Unless I find someone with a truly perverted obsession, it’s a lost cause.”

“Oh. I see…”

“And I find such people loathsome.”

“Of course…”

“So, I must find the alternative method.”

Adi wondered if his only motivation was self-preservation and breaking the spell. Was there nothing else? Why had Spencer been so insistent about the threat of assassins?

“And what about you?” the Duke asked.

“My curse?”

The question hit her like a physical blow. Suddenly, she felt the oppressive chill of the Grimaldi estate—a cold so sharp it burned her throat and made every breath a struggle.

“My curse is already rotting in the earth,” she said, her voice dropping into a somber register.

She let out a breath that felt like ice.

“Or perhaps…”

She looked at him, the weight of her history in her eyes.

“I am the curse itself.”