Chapter 4
Folklore suggested that the Kingdom of Dalkatir was forged from the ashes of a broken hex.
Opinions on the matter were split; some maintained the curse had been vanquished, while others whispered that the nation was actually constructed upon its very foundation. In neighboring realms like Belipeera, such malevolent magic usually clung to a specific royal lineage, but the blight on Dalkatir was different. It lacked a singular target.
Every citizen shared the burden of complicity.
“Is Woodpecker returning?”
The name rippled through the crowd in the courtyard, a familiar refrain.
“The gossip about him keeping a secret mistress in Pallesa might be more than just talk,” someone remarked.
Another scoffed, “A woman falling for a man with a physique like that? Even a stray mutt would find the idea hilarious.”
The rhythmic sound of footsteps echoed the name: Woodpecker, Woodpecker, Woodpecker.
This was the Lord of the southern timberlands, the master of the oak forests. The Woodpecker King was approaching.
“Forget the mistress,” a voice countered. “He’s likely just hunting for a way to lift his affliction.”
It was common knowledge that certain souls in Dalkatir carried heavy burdens. The Grimaldi line was the most notorious, plagued by a relentless, generational hex, but others occasionally fell victim to mysterious maladies for no discernible reason.
“They say he’s tearing through the shops on Witch Street,” the gossip continued. “That Woodpecker King is relentless.”
Julius Woodpecker was among those marked by such a fate.
The headquarters for the 2nd Knights Order sat near the second defensive wall in southern Pallesa Palace. Aside from the peripheral Guard Palace, this was the closest point to the world beyond the gates—a territory that felt alien to Adi.
The facility was far more opulent than the barracks of the northern 3rd Knights Order. It was a restricted zone, likely reflecting the high status of the royals and aristocrats who frequented its halls.
Adi navigated the corridors by consulting her military logbook. The entry was sparse, noting only a floor and a room number. She climbed the stairs and rounded a corner, finding the long hallway completely deserted.
She recalled hearing that the 2nd Knights were primarily tasked with guarding visiting dignitaries; when the palace was empty of guests, the knights had little to occupy their time.
Scanning the digits on the doorframes, Adi eventually stopped.
This was the Commander’s office. Seeing the door slightly ajar, she gave a brief knock and stepped inside. Immediately, a blade whistled through the air, burying itself in the heavy wood of the door with a sharp crack. Adi tilted her head just enough to avoid the steel, watching a few severed locks of her hair drift toward the floor. Before a second dagger could find its mark, she reached out and snatched it from the air.
“You lack the patience to wait for an invitation,” a voice noted.
“The entrance was open,” Adi countered.
The man before her confirmed the rumors that this unit prioritized aesthetics—he was strikingly handsome. Many knights fell into the trap of letting themselves go, equating a lack of hygiene and unkempt facial hair with grit, but this man was meticulously groomed and carried the scent of expensive fragrance.
She realized then that her disguise would hold. Immersed in a group like this, her feminine features wouldn’t draw unwanted attention.
“Adrian Grimaldi, here for duty with the 1st Squad.”
“Peter Gerin, Operations Officer for the 1st Squad. The Commander is away, so I’m handling your induction.”
“Understood, Sir.”
Peter observed her salute for a moment before rising from his desk.
“Duke Woodpecker reaches Pallesa Palace in three days, during the afternoon. You are his primary shadow from that moment on. His personal attendant will find you tomorrow evening. You’ll be relocated to the Duke’s quarters then. Have you moved your things?”
“Not yet, Sir.”
“See the administrator for your keys and room details. Be settled in by nightfall.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“We operate with a degree of autonomy here,” Peter added. “Don’t bother trying to make friends. We won’t roll out a red carpet, but we won’t go out of our way to make your life miserable either. A man like you should fit in well enough. Just remember—if you burst in unannounced again, I might take your head. Keep that in mind.”
Adi gave a sharp nod. With a dismissive wave from the officer, she saluted and exited the room.
*
Duke Julius Caspras Woodpecker.
At twenty-six, he was the King’s nephew and held the fourth spot in the line of succession. In his own lands, he was often referred to as the Woodpecker King.
The rumor mill suggested that the Crown’s tolerance of such a title hinted at their desire for him to eventually take the throne.
The Duke spent a quarter of the year in Pallesa, while his time in the capital of Ionad was limited to a mere fortnight—just enough to settle taxes and attend the winter galas.
His preference for the ancient halls of Pallesa over the modern capital remained a mystery. Regardless, powerful lords rarely felt the need to explain their movements to those beneath them.
Adi surveyed her new quarters. She dropped her single bag, which held all her meager possessions, onto the floor. This room was a significant upgrade from the spartan dorms in the north. The windows were larger, the walls were pristine, and the wardrobe was finely crafted.
She began organizing her weapons.
Following her usual habit, she slid two blades under the bed and kept one within arm’s reach. The first item she retrieved from her bag was a framed photograph. In the image, Adrian wore a gentle smile, standing beside her own stern, unyielding expression.
She looked at the picture for a long moment before placing it face down. She then reached for parchment and a quill.
She had to inform Spencer Grimaldi of her status.
She wrote ‘To the Count’ with practiced ease, then paused. In her position, sticking to the blunt truth was always the safest path.
A knock broke the silence. Adi went to the door immediately.
Outside, a servant had been about to knock again when the door swung open. His hand, mid-motion, landed squarely on Adi’s chest. The young man froze, his fist pressed against the solid muscle of her torso, and looked up at her with a red face. Adi met his gaze with cool indifference.
“Is there something you need?”
“Are you Sir Adi Grimaldi?”
“I am.”
“I’m here on behalf of Duke Woodpecker. His Grace will be arriving through the Warp Gate tomorrow afternoon. You are expected to join the welcoming party.”
“I thought he wasn’t due until later?”
“The Duke’s itinerary is prone to sudden shifts.”
Adi understood. It was a classic tactic to dodge assassins or informants—staying unpredictable was a survival trait.
“I see,” she replied.
“Also,” she added, “how much longer do you intend to leave your hand there?”
The servant realized where his fist was still resting and yanked it back as if burned. He was struck by how firm the knight’s chest felt, though he chalked it up to rigorous training. He cleared his throat nervously.
“There are specific protocols you must learn regarding the Duke’s service.”
Adi studied him. He looked barely twenty, perhaps younger. It was unusual for a high noble to employ such a youthful retainer, as most preferred the gravity of older staff. She wondered if this was a test or a sign of the Duke’s disregard for tradition.
“Sir Adrian?”
“Continue.”
“This might take some time to explain properly.”
Recognizing the silent plea for entry, Adi stepped aside and gestured for him to come in. The servant entered, noting that while knight quarters were usually superior to servant housing, this room was exceptionally fine. The architecture and furnishings were far above the standard.
He didn’t linger on the decor, however; his daily life involved maintaining even more grand environments.
Adi offered him the room’s only chair and took a seat on the edge of the mattress. Her posture was stiff. “How many people are in the party?” she asked, her tone somewhat sharp.
The servant felt as though he were being cross-examined.
“Five of us in total, including myself. One house knight is also traveling with the group.”
“Four staff and two guards. Manageable.”
“Indeed. We rarely travel far. Usually just to Witch Street, which is well-patrolled. If we go further, we’ll enlist more help. You’re welcome to suggest any capable acquaintances for the role.”
Adi remained silent. Her social circle was non-existent. She had no friends, only potential rivals, though she knew exactly who possessed the necessary combat skills.
“Anything else?”
“Why Pallesa?” Adi asked. “Why does he prefer this place over Ionad?”
“I am not permitted to discuss that.”
“Is that a lack of knowledge or a refusal to answer?”
“I am not permitted to discuss it,” he repeated.
“Very well. I won’t ask again.”
“You… won’t press the matter?”
“I don’t see the point in repeating a question once a boundary has been set.”
The servant was impressed by her discipline; she was the quintessential soldier. Looking at her striking features, he found it hard to believe people called him the ‘Dog of Pallesa.’
He recalled that Adi Grimaldi had a twin sister who had passed away. It was a shame, he thought. If they hadn’t been twins, she likely would have been a highly sought-after woman.
“What else do I need to be aware of?”
