Chapter 36
A part of her felt exposed, as if a secret she had fought to bury was suddenly dragged into the light. The sensation was closer to being caught in a lie than merely being seen. A wave of physical revulsion washed over her. She found no solace in Joel’s attempts at kindness or pity; they felt hollow and distant. Her mind raced—had the Duke already been informed?
The answer was obvious.
Glancing at the clock, she saw it was already past midnight. Her shift was beginning. Joel held the bedroom door open, stepping aside as if granting her entry to a restricted sanctuary. Adi crossed the threshold. In the soft, flickering glow of the room, the Duke was hunched over a pile of parchment.
“Your Excellency.”
Yuls looked up, his gaze locking onto hers.
“I was told you requested my presence.”
“I did.”
He immediately returned his attention to the documents. She wondered what could possibly occupy him so intensely every single night.
“It is time for my duties,” she noted.
Adi remained motionless by the door, offering nothing more. When silence stretched between them, Yuls looked up once more, a mocking twist to his lips.
“I suspected things were tense between you and the Count, but it seems I underestimated the depth of the animosity.”
He knew everything. It occurred to her that he might have called for her not just for work, but to rescue her from that suffocating encounter.
She quickly dismissed the thought. She had been treated with too much warmth lately, and she chided herself for assuming he was capable of such selflessness.
“You look like a ghost,” Yuls observed.
Adi’s hand flew to her cheek before she self-consciously pulled it away. He watched her reaction with a flicker of confusion before speaking again, his tone sharp.
“Your hair. Don’t touch it.”
She blinked, her confusion evident. He clarified his command.
“I am telling you not to cut it.”
“Do you… have a preference for long hair?” she asked tentatively.
Her eyes drifted to his own crimson locks. He had experienced a sudden growth spurt, and his hair had lengthened rapidly. She had assumed he would trim it, but he had kept it long, tying it back carelessly as if it were a nuisance. The vibrant red suited him perfectly.
“I don’t have a particular opinion on the matter,” he replied.
To him, the grooming habits of others were irrelevant. Yet, he felt that Adrian Grimaldi was better suited to a longer style. It felt like a crime to shear away hair that shimmered like liquid honey.
“Come closer.”
Adi walked toward the bed. Yuls reached out, but even with his arm extended, he couldn’t reach her across the vast mattress. He gestured for her to bridge the gap. Noticing his impatient look, Adi tightened her grip on her own hands, then relaxed them.
“Adrian.”
She braced a knee against the frame of the bed. As her palm sank into the bedding, Yuls lunged forward and pulled her toward him. He cupped her face.
His hand slid from her ear to the nape of her neck, his large palm covering the back of her head. He ran his fingers through her hair, smoothing it over the crown. It was an intimacy she had never experienced before.
“The shape of your head is fine; you could probably pull off a short cut as well.”
“…”
“Are you planning to cut it?”
“If you command it…”
“My order? Or the one given by your father?”
Adi remained silent, paralyzed by the conflict of her dual loyalties. Yuls simply smirked at her hesitation.
He pulled his hand away, and Adi, who had been perched awkwardly on the bed, scrambled back to a standing position. Yuls returned to his papers, seemingly unbothered by the fact that her knee had left a deep wrinkle in the parchment.
“Among the Count’s retinue, I noticed a man named Lev Zid,” Yuls said.
“Yes.”
“The report says he is your sole confidant.”
“We were children together,” she explained softly. “His mother serves as the Head Maid.”
“The Zid Barony, I believe?”
“The Count holds him in high regard. High enough to make him his personal guard.”
Spencer Grimaldi had once served as the Crown Prince’s own protector. He didn’t truly require a guard; even with age, his lethality remained intact.
“He is the finest blade in Grimaldi,” she added.
“I see.”
Yuls watched her carefully, his eyes narrowing as if he found her answers lacking. Suddenly, he held out his hand again.
“Kiss me.”
“We did that this morning.”
“The sun is down. It counts as a new day.”
She wondered how much longer this ritual would continue. Duke Woodpecker—the man who kept her under constant surveillance and demanded these kisses. He was the sworn enemy of the Grimaldi line, despite the vast distance between the North and South. She still didn’t understand the origin of their feud.
And what kind of curse required the child of a rival to provide a kiss as a remedy?
At his beckoning, Adi knelt on the bed again and took his hand. Just as she leaned down to brush her lips against his, he yanked her forward. His power was startling. He pinned her to the mattress, hovering over her, and pressed his mouth firmly against hers.
Adi was frozen. She could only stare blankly as his lips moved against her own. His long, red lashes were so close she could count them. Everything about him—his hair, his brows, his lashes—was a fiery crimson.
Yuls eventually pulled back, though he kept her pinned beneath him. Her lips trembled as if she wanted to speak, but no words formed. He used his thumb to wipe her mouth.
“In the stories, a kiss is supposed to break the spell,” he murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Clearly, the stories are wrong.”
“Witches.”
“It’s a poetic idea, isn’t it? A curse broken by affection.”
“But your condition hasn’t changed, Your Excellency.”
“I am aware.”
By now, stubble should have appeared on his face. His nails remained short and unchanged. One might suspect he was inventing the whole thing, but he had felt the moment the magic took hold.
What was missing?
Was it the absence of genuine love? Or the fact that no tears were shed? He doubted it was a simple matter of exchanging fluids, otherwise, saliva would have sufficed.
The puzzle of the curse remained unsolved. He realized that obsessing over an answer that wouldn’t come was a pointless endeavor.
Yuls sat up. “How long do you intend to lie there?” Adi scrambled off the bed immediately.
“Tell me, what did you and Claude discuss?”
“I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“Gavin mentioned seeing you with him.”
“What?”
She searched her memory. Then, she remembered the man standing with Gavin at the training grounds.
“Oh, the man from earlier today.”
“Exactly. What was said?”
“He was searching for someone. I told him I couldn’t help because I don’t know anyone in the 2nd Knights Order.”
Yuls stared at her. “You truly don’t know who Claude is?”
“Is he someone of consequence?”
He knew she wouldn’t recognize the face, but he hadn’t expected the name to mean nothing to her.
“He is the Crown Prince,” Yuls said flatly.
Adi felt her mind go blank.
“He is the man who signed your knighthood commission,” Yuls added.
The title that Spencer Grimaldi had secured for a son who was already dead.
“And I suspect you are exactly who he is searching for.”
The heir to the Dalcatir throne. That man? Adi’s face betrayed her shock, and Yuls’s eyes sharpened. It was the look he gave when he smelled a lie or felt a flash of irritation.
“Regardless of Claude, what did the Count say to you?”
“Nothing of importance.”
She assumed he already knew, given his surveillance. She wondered how he did it—perhaps a hidden vantage point behind a painting? There was a dark landscape in the room; it would be easy to hide a listening hole there.
“Adi.”
He was likely asking about Spencer’s warning—the comment about having ‘many ears.’ It had been a cryptic, useless remark. Even if she told Yuls the truth, he would likely suspect a hidden meaning.
“I won’t stop you from keeping your secrets,” Yuls warned, “but if your complications lead to whispers of treason that touch my house, I will destroy you.”
“The same applies to you,” he continued. “If you become an obstacle to breaking my curse, I won’t show mercy.”
Treason? Spencer Grimaldi?
“Do not forget that, Adrian Grimaldi.”
His gaze was searing, his red eyes like twin embers. It felt as though he were stripping away her disguises and reading the truth written on her soul.
“I give you my word,” Adi said. “I will ensure nothing stands in your way.”
“Swear it on your twin’s soul.”
Adi stared at him, silenced by the request.
“On the soul of Adrina Grimaldi.”
“She is already gone from this world,” Adi replied.
She saw no point in swearing on the dead, but then it struck her—the soul he was asking for was her own.
“Fine. I swear it on Adrina’s soul.”
It didn’t matter whose name she used; the weight was hers to carry.
Yuls’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing further before he finally spoke.
“It’s a shame. It would have been better if she had been the one to survive.”
Adi looked at him, her gaze fixed. For a fleeting second, Yuls looked as though he regretted the words, but the expression vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, indifferent mask.
