Chapter 39
The air stirred with a restless energy. Though summer was on the horizon, the evening drafts still retained a biting edge. Adi stirred from her sleep, sniffing the air as she glanced toward the headboard. The framed portrait of Adrian had toppled over, resting face-down on the surface. She assumed the wind had knocked it over.
After setting the picture upright and gathering her things, Adi retreated to the washroom to let the steaming water soak into her skin.
The bathing facilities here in the palace far outclassed those at her family estate. They were magical constructs, and while she understood how to operate them, the underlying sorcery remained a mystery to her. She found herself wishing she could install something similar whenever she eventually moved on, though hiring a Mage for such a task would surely drain her finances.
Once finished, Adi dried off and pulled on her undergarments, cinching her leather chest protection into place. She shook out her damp hair and stepped into her trousers. Upon opening the door, she found Roy already waiting at the lounge table. He had a chessboard prepared, the pieces standing in their starting positions as if he had been anticipating her arrival.
“Finished at last?” he asked.
“What’s the time?”
“Exactly four-twenty.”
Their shift had only recently concluded.
“Have you cleaned up yet?” Adi asked.
“Hardly. You were monopolizing the room. These shared quarters are a real nuisance,” Roy grumbled.
Despite his complaints, Roy had been too sluggish to trek back to his own room to bathe. Instead, he sat with his shirt unfastened, letting the fabric hang loosely open. He jerked his chin toward the empty chair, silently demanding she join him. His obsession with the game was relentless.
Adi took her seat, feeling droplets from her wet hair soak into her chemise. The breeze from the open lounge window would likely help her dry off. Roy fished a pouch of tobacco from his discarded jacket and offered it her way. “Care for a pull?”
“You can afford to smoke?” she remarked. “That’s a costly habit.”
“I didn’t pay for it. It was a gift.”
Adi moved her first pawn. “From the Duke?”
“No,” Roy said, sparking the pipe. “I ran into a young lady while I was out earlier, and she provided it.” He exhaled a massive, clumsy cloud, looking like someone who hadn’t quite mastered the art of lighting up.
Roy made his move and took another long drag.
Adi had an abiding distaste for the scent of tobacco and never touched it herself, though the Countess had been a connoisseur of fine blends. Adi’s hatred for the habit was rooted in the memory of returning from her mother’s side to find Adrian coughing, his health seemingly failing further whenever the smoke was near.
She pushed the thought aside, focusing on the game. The rhythmic clack-clack of wood on wood filled the room as they traded pieces. It didn’t take long for Roy’s expression to shift to one of shock.
“Wait, my rook!”
“You always leave that flank exposed,” Adi noted. “You need to think several steps ahead.”
Roy scowled. “I really don’t need a lecture from you.” He stared mournfully at his lost piece before snatching it off the board and grinding his pipe out against the table. “Fine. What is it you’re looking to find out?”
“I’m so in the dark I barely know what to ask,” Adi replied, making her next move. Roy went quiet, studying the board. He was trying to follow her advice about foresight, but his strategic vision was limited.
“We’re trading questions, right?” Roy asked.
“Do you think I have any secrets worth your time?”
“Every scrap of data has a price.”
“If you say so,” Adi murmured. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell me about Lev Zid.”
Adi’s hand faltered for a heartbeat. Roy caught the hesitation immediately. “I thought you two were supposed to be close, but maybe that’s a lie?”
“Lev… he was a tormentor.”
“A tormentor? You’re missing some context there. Who did he target?”
“Adi.”
“You?” Roy paused, remembering the Duke’s mention that both siblings used that nickname. “Don’t tell me he went after your sister just because he’s a man?”
Adi remained silent. It was the truth. Lev Zid had nothing but loathing for her. He had called her a walking curse, a stain on the Count’s reputation that should be hidden in shame.
Because Lev and Adrian were raised together as milk brothers, their connection was supposed to be deeper than blood. She never truly knew how Lev viewed her brother, or which of them Adrian favored, but Lev clearly saw himself as Adrian’s true kin. In his eyes, Adrina was a foul intrusion.
He was a master of masks, however. In public, he was the picture of a devoted, humble servant. Only the late Adrian had seen the real Lev Zid—the one who dropped the act the moment doors were closed.
Adrina had never dared to ask Adrian who he loved more. She couldn’t have survived hearing another name. Perhaps Lev felt that same desperate insecurity. They were bound by a shared love for Adrian and a mutual, burning hatred for one another.
“Yes,” Adi finally said. “He targeted her because he’s a man.”
After Adrian passed, many had turned their backs on her, but Lev’s malice was in a category of its own. Even so, he maintained his submissive facade unless they were entirely alone.
“Damn,” Roy muttered. “If it’s bad enough for you to mention it… are all you Northerners that twisted?”
The thought revolted her. Lev’s reasons were transparent and pathetic. He craved the Grimaldi name and the prestige of their bloodline. He believed that by seizing the family title, he could finally become the brother Adrian deserved.
“No, it’s just Lev. He’s small-minded.”
The tragedy was that his ambitions aligned with Spencer’s. The Count was desperate for a worthy heir and wanted the family’s shame buried. He wanted a perfect Grimaldi—not a sickly boy or a twin girl. Spencer was likely to hand Adrina over to Lev as a prize. Despite his low birth, Lev was a noble and a capable man who already knew all the family’s dark secrets.
Lev, Spencer, the twins—they were all caught in a suffocating web.
Adi took another of Roy’s pieces. He slumped over the table with a groan. “Not again.”
“Foresight, Roy.”
“Listen to you,” he huffed. “Well, watch this. I’m taking your Knight.”
Adi said nothing, simply watching him. He was a typical, cocky Southerner.
“So, you aren’t friends. Fine. But why the sudden interest in him?”
“You mentioned before that Count Grimaldi isn’t your personal foe, right?”
“That’s right. Southern interests are different.”
“Then who is your real enemy?”
Roy’s eyes left the board and locked onto hers. The easygoing grin he usually wore evaporated, replaced by a cold, simmering resentment that he usually kept buried deep.
“Kenneth Marks.”
“The head of the 2nd Knights?”
“You two seem like you’re on good terms,” Adi observed.
“It’s a performance. I’ll play the part until I’m gone. And once I leave…” Roy trailed off, considering how best to settle the score. Kenneth was a hardened man; traditional insults wouldn’t leave a mark. Finally, Roy smirked. “I’m thinking about eating the spiciest meal I can find, leaving a present on his desk, and vanishing.”
Adi blinked. “…Just leave. Don’t do that.”
“Or maybe I should just break his stones like you did?”
“I didn’t break them. He assured me everything is still functional.”
“He told you that himself? Wow. Are you going to play or what?”
“I’m thinking. You play too fast. It’s infuriating when you move those pawns. You’re going to bring that Knight back, aren’t you?”
Roy clutched his head in frustration as Adi’s pawn neared the final row. Clack. The sound of her move echoed through the room.
“Tell me,” Adi said. “Are the Duke, the Royals, my father, and Kenneth Marks all on the same side?”
“Hardly. The King and Grimaldi are at odds. Your father hasn’t had an invitation to Pallesa Palace in years.”
“Then someone else summoned him. It was likely the Crown Prince. My father was always on good terms with him—he even served as his bodyguard once.”
Roy looked puzzled. “Wait, didn’t the Crown Prince knight you himself? You should know what he looks like.”
“I’ve seen him, but…”
“Well, he’s blonde, like all the brothers in that line. The Duke isn’t, but his mother had red hair. The dynamic between the King and the Crown Prince is messy, anyway. By the old laws, someone else should be wearing that crown.”
Roy sighed. “You really don’t know the first thing about royal politics, do you?”
“…I haven’t had much exposure to court life,” she admitted.
Roy clicked his tongue. While it wasn’t unheard of for provincial nobles to be ignorant of the King’s face, the story of his ascension was common knowledge. It seemed the real Adrian had been neglected in his education.
“Pay attention, Adi. You don’t want to trip up here. The Royal family considers their history a bit of a stain. If you offend them, they’ll use any excuse to have your head.”
He leaned in closer. “The current King was only the third prince. He wasn’t supposed to rule. When the previous King stepped down, the eldest son took the throne, but he died of illness almost immediately—even before his father passed. He barely ruled for a year. The second prince was the former Duke Woodpecker. That makes the current Duke fourth in line for the throne. After the King’s children, it goes by seniority.”
The Duke was twenty-six and fourth in line. Claude, the man she’d seen training, didn’t look much older. Since he was the King’s son, he was in a separate tier, meaning someone else stood between the Duke and the crown.
“The plan was to crown the late Crown Prince’s son, but Grimaldi, Marks, and a few others conspired to install the third prince instead. They purged anyone who supported the rightful heir. They used the chaos of foreign wars as a cover. While the Lords were away fighting, these men waged a shadow war against the wives left behind to manage the lands. The Witch Hunts were nothing but a convenient pretext for land grabs.”
So that was how Grimaldi expanded his borders so aggressively. He used the hunts to justify theft.
“By the time the Lords returned from the front, their homes were ash,” Roy said quietly. Among those victims was the Gallardo family. “We’re from the South, so we were late to the mobilization. It was harvest season.”
The North didn’t have much agriculture; they survived by buying grain from the South. That meant they were ready for war much sooner.
“My mother survived because Kenneth Marks ambushed my father while he was still preparing to march.” Clack. Another piece fell. The Knight was gone. “My father thought they were allies arriving to help. He was wrong.”
Roy’s grip on his remaining pieces tightened until his knuckles turned white. “Do you know why the Woodpecker lands are so massive?”
The Duke controlled everything south of the Oak Forest.
“The Southern Lords who lost everything to the current King tried to put the second prince—the previous Duke Woodpecker—on the throne. They surrendered their lands and swore their lives to him.”
The sheer scale of that territory was staggering to anyone who had seen a map.
“But the coup failed because the Duke was assassinated.”
Nearly half the kingdom had been at stake.
“Even so, the South never took back those oaths. They still belong to Woodpecker.”
If the Gallardos were still around, they would be among them. Roy was clearly biding his time, waiting for a chance to strike. He had no loyalty to the man on the throne.
“In Ionad, people might call him King, but out there, no one acknowledges it.”
Roy’s true sovereign was the King of the Woodpecker, the master of the Oak Forest.
“But he’s a King with no teeth,” Roy added. “A boy-king.”
“A cursed King,” Adi whispered.
“Duke Woodpecker.”
Roy continued, “The first prince is older than the current Crown Prince. By tradition, he’s the rightful ruler, but the King forced his own son into the position. That’s why the nobility is in revolt.”
“But you said the King and his son are fighting now?”
“That’s the word. But Grimaldi definitely broke with the King. He’s firmly in the Crown Prince’s camp now.”
“I see,” Adi said, moving her final piece. “Checkmate.”
Roy had lost again. His record now stood at two wins and eleven losses. As he sat there, already plotting his next attempt at a comeback, Adi spoke softly. “Thank you.”
Roy looked up, caught off guard.
“That was incredibly helpful.”
“Then it’s your turn to pay up,” Roy countered. “I want information.”
“On what?”
“On his weaknesses. You know I’m supposed to duel him, right?”
“You actually agreed to that?”
“Yeah, he cornered me earlier. He was looking at me like he wanted to skin me alive.”
Adi let out a genuine laugh. It made sense; Lev Zid viewed her as his personal property. Roy’s casual, friendly demeanor must have driven him into a silent rage.
“Fine,” Adi agreed. “I’ll tell you everything.”
She found herself looking forward to seeing Roy take Lev down.
