Translator: Nox

Chapter 38

A dull ache pulsed within her. It was a strange, low-seated discomfort that didn’t seem to correlate with the light meal she had consumed. Reaching down, Adi pressed her palm against her lower belly, her features tightening in a brief wince.

A specific realization flickered at the edge of her consciousness.

It had been an age since her cycles had ceased. Years spent inhabiting Adrian’s identity, enduring the grueling physical demands of a knight’s training, had reshaped her. Her body had effectively remodeled itself into his likeness; the feminine rhythm of her biology had surrendered to the growth of muscle and the relentless toll of her daily life.

“Who is the man you mentioned?”

“You’ve met him,” she replied. “Lev Zid.”

“That wasn’t the point of the question.”

Roy’s expression made it clear he wasn’t interested in her diversions.

“Why claim it isn’t yours? Did you lose some sort of wager?”

A gamble would have been a simpler truth to offer. When Adi simply stated she had no desire to discuss it, Roy gave a casual shrug. He wasn’t the type to force a confidence if she was determined to keep it.

The two of them were settled on the lounge sofa within their living quarters. Usually, they met with Bert here to coordinate the day’s tasks. Adi was a frequent participant in these morning briefings, though she had been absent the previous day.

The door to Bert’s room creaked open, and the man himself emerged. He looked disheveled, his beard unkempt and his hair standing in every direction. Despite his preference for late-night shifts, he always dragged himself out of bed at this hour to manage the schedule. He would review the day’s necessities before deciding whether to retreat back to his blankets or start his morning.

“Morning to you both.”

“Sir,” they acknowledged in unison.

“You’re up early, Adi,” Bert remarked. “Though considering today’s agenda, it’s for the best. Have you eaten?”

“I have.”

“Anything good?”

“Rabbit,” she said, her nose wrinkling. “The scent was quite off-putting.”

“Typical,” Bert grumbled. “I think I’ll stick to a meatless breakfast today.”

He muttered a few complaints about the kitchen staff at Pallesa Palace being unable to properly prepare game, then began leafing through his ledger. While most of the plans remained static, he paused and glanced toward Adi.

“Adi, can you handle the day shift in three days’ time?”

“If you are ordering me to, yes.”

“I like to call it a request, but you’re right—it’s an order. I’ll put your name down.”

“May I ask the reason for the assignment?”

“Duke Woodpecker and Count Grimaldi have received invitations. It’s a function at the Inner Palace, so travel will be minimal. Being deeper within the grounds usually means the security detail is less taxing.”

“The Inner Palace?”

“Yes. An invitation from the Crown Prince himself.”

Claude. That was the name that echoed in her mind. He was the one who claimed to be searching for her. Was that why he had hinted at a future meeting? It seemed he had specifically engineered this request for her presence.

“Is he already on the grounds?” Roy asked.

Usually, the arrival of the heir to the throne would cause a massive stir, yet the palace remained uncharacteristically quiet.

“It seems he arrived incognito,” Bert explained.

“Without a retinue?”

“The story goes that he ditched his guards and rode in solo on a horse.”

Roy found that hard to believe. A Crown Prince taking such risks was nearly unheard of, yet few people possessed the authority to reprimand him—save for the King himself. And based on what Roy knew of the political climate, even the King might hesitate to cross him.

“Did he come alone? Are there other members of the royal family expected?”

“They should be arriving shortly. You’d likely find out before I do, Roy. You could always go pester the 2nd Knights Order for gossip.”

“I suppose I could,” Roy admitted.

While the Commander wouldn’t breathe a word, the rank-and-file knights were usually more talkative about arrival times.

“I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Let me know what you hear,” Bert said.

“For a price?”

“I just handed you two gold pieces recently!”

“That was for the bet, Bert. Not for information.”

Adi watched them, realizing they had formed a rapport she hadn’t noticed developing. It was beneficial for them to be friendly, especially with the move to the Woodpecker lands looming, yet she felt a sudden, sharp pang of isolation.

She couldn’t place the feeling. It was an emotion she had never truly experienced. Her abdomen throbbed again—a confusing pain that blurred the line between her stomach and her womb. She decided that if the discomfort persisted after a nap, she would seek out the physician’s office.

Bert closed his book, declared he had nothing left to add, and stood up. With a massive yawn and a rough scratch of his stomach, he retreated back into his room. Seconds later, heavy snoring vibrated through the door.

“He can sleep anywhere, anytime. Is that just what happens when you get old?” Roy wondered.

“I thought he was a light sleeper,” Adi countered.

“He is. But we’re close enough that I can poke fun at him.”

Adi was struck by Roy’s effortless social grace. She found his ability to bridge gaps between people baffling.

“Back to the Crown Prince,” she said.

“Do you want to switch shifts with me?” Roy asked.

“Definitely not,” he replied, emphasizing each syllable.

Adi nodded, sensing the genuine aversion in his voice. Roy started to say something about the Prince, then checked himself, his expression shifting to one of frustrated silence.

“Actually, it’s the whole royal family,” Roy muttered.

Adi looked at him, confused.

“Just because they share blood doesn’t mean they share a cause.”

Roy hesitated, looking at her with a mix of disbelief and pity. He wondered if Count Grimaldi had neglected his son’s education entirely. The boy seemed completely ignorant of the basic political landscape. Usually, tutors would fill a young noble’s head with the latest scandals and power shifts, but Adrian seemed to have lived in a vacuum.

He wondered if the Count had treated this twin with the same cruelty and neglect as the daughter who had died, simply because of the omen surrounding their birth.

Roy felt a surge of empathy. His own upbringing hadn’t been easy, but this youth seemed to have endured a different kind of hardship.

“Go get some rest,” Roy said gently. “We can play chess after our shifts.”

“I want to hear more about this.”

“About what?”

“The Prince. The royal house.”

Roy weighed the risks. He didn’t know everything, but he knew enough. The Woodpecker family likely held the real secrets, and most high-ranking nobles were aware of the internal strife, but Adrian was clearly in the dark.

He decided that sharing general knowledge wouldn’t hurt. It might even prevent the boy from making a fatal mistake. If the Crown Prince spoke to him and Adrian responded with his usual bluntness, it could end in disaster. They had spent enough time together that Roy felt a genuine desire to keep the boy’s head on his shoulders.

“I’ll explain it later if you’re truly interested.”

“The whole truth?”

“I don’t bother with lies. You know that.”

Adi nodded. She trusted that about him. Roy was transactional, but he was honest. Even his conditional kindness was something she had come to rely on.

“Roy.”

He looked at her.

“Why are you being so helpful?”

Roy let out a short, dry laugh. He wondered what kind of life she had led to find his basic decency so remarkable. He remembered her reputation in the 3rd Knights Order—how everyone claimed she was a troublemaker who had defeated everyone in combat. Looking at her slight frame now, he couldn’t fathom how she had won those fights. He didn’t know her true strength any more than she knew his.

“We’re on the same team,” Roy stated. “For the time being, anyway.”

Adi pondered that. The concept of camaraderie was foreign to her. She chalked his attitude up to his Southern upbringing and gave a simple nod of acknowledgment.

Roy shrugged and headed for the door, his shift beginning. Adi retreated to her own room, intending to sleep.

Rest, however, remained elusive. Despite the early hour and the persistent ache in her belly, her mind was too active. She changed her clothes and lay on the bed, her gaze drifting to the portrait of Adrian that hung on the wall.

“Adi,” she whispered to the image of her brother.

He was her mirror, lost to time.

“What choice would you have made?”

The brother who had dreamed of their escape was gone. She was living the life he should have had.

Images flashed through her mind: the Crown Prince, the Grimaldi name, the power of Woodpecker, the threat of treason. She thought of the red-haired Duke—his striking features, his quiet intensity, and his admission that he wished the sister had been the survivor.

‘I will.’

The memory of his voice lingered.

‘I will ensure it.’

Those words haunted her.

‘I’ll help you leave the Count behind.’

She wondered if those promises were for her benefit or his own. And who was she serving with her own choices?

Adi reached out and took down the portrait. Through the open window, the spring sky was a brilliant, sharp blue. The scent of fresh grass and blooming flowers drifted in on a warm breeze.

She held the picture up against the window, framing Adrian’s face against the vibrant landscape. She imagined him standing out there, breathing the air of the North as a free man. It was a hollow fantasy.

“You would support me, wouldn’t you?” she asked the silent painting. “No matter what I decide?”

She sat on the edge of the mattress and buried her face in her hands. The complexities of the palace were beginning to reveal themselves to her. She was starting to see the path forward.

She would use Roy’s knowledge.

Adi looked back at the portrait, her light brown eyes sharpening with a predatory focus. She looked like a hunter waiting in the shadows, muscles coiled and ready to strike.

“It’s time to turn against the Count.”

The resolve in her gaze was absolute.