Chapter 47
==================================================
The Crown Prince was rarely seen before noon. Calling it “sleeping late” wasn’t entirely accurate, however; his rest typically began only as the sun started its ascent. During the deep hours of the night, he didn’t occupy himself with any particular task. He simply remained awake, drifting through the dark for no specific reason.
Because the entire household synchronized their lives to his nocturnal rhythm, the thought of correcting his schedule never crossed Claude’s mind.
“I apologize for disturbing you at such an ungodly hour, Your Highness.”
The current situation was a perfect example.
“In certain lands beyond the borders of Dalkatir, Count, it is currently broad daylight.”
Despite the time, Count Grimaldi had arrived in person.
“Within Dalkatir, however, it is the dead of night, Your Highness.”
“The most significant moments in history always occur under the cover of darkness.”
“……”
“Take a seat, Count. Would you care for a drink?”
“I will decline.”
“Your son felt differently,” Claude remarked. “He finished his quite quickly.”
“And he indulged in a pipe as well.”
The skin near Spencer Grimaldi’s eye gave a sharp twitch. Claude felt a flicker of amusement, assuming the man was simmering with rage over his heir’s lack of discipline.
In Claude’s estimation, Adrian Grimaldi was far simpler to manipulate than his father. It appeared that Spencer, having spent his time in Ionad, had failed to properly mold his child. While the boy possessed that unmistakable Grimaldi aura, he was still green.
“Your boy is rather fascinating.”
“Is that so?”
“I’m considering keeping him close for a while. May I?”
“I must ask for your forgiveness, Your Highness, but I cannot allow that.”
Claude’s expression darkened. This was the man’s defining trait—the unwavering wall he put up whenever he decided a request was improper. The typical bureaucrats of Dalkatir lacked such a spine.
He wondered if this bluntness was a northern tradition. Grimaldi was the only noble who had ever dared to speak his mind to the King, and the only one to ever cast a veto against the crown. Ultimately, that defiance had resulted in his exile from the capital.
“Adrian has other obligations to fulfill.”
Claude needed a subordinate who would move on his behalf, just as Grimaldi had once served the reigning King. He required a follower who would go to their grave upon his command. Spencer Grimaldi was too independent for such a role, but the younger Grimaldi still possessed the potential to be trained.
“Obligations? Enlighten me—what could they be?”
“I am not at liberty to disclose them yet. However, I assure you they pose no threat to you, Your Highness.”
Claude gave a derisive snort. He didn’t believe for a second that this old fox was being transparent.
From the start, the Count had been playing a double game between the Crown Prince and the King. Claude had planned to exploit that neutrality, yet here the man was, shamelessly taking up residence at the Duke’s estate. It seemed he was now attempting to balance three sides at once.
Claude signaled to the head chamberlain with a casual wave. As the servant moved to retrieve a pipe from a cabinet, Spencer Grimaldi spoke up. “Forgive me, Your Highness.”
“My lungs are quite fragile. The smoke from a pipe is detrimental to my health.”
“……You, Count? Fragile?”
“My daughter’s life was cut short by similar respiratory issues. It appears to be a flaw in our bloodline.”
Under normal circumstances, Claude would have ignored the protest and smoked anyway, but even he sensed that pushing the matter with Spencer Grimaldi at this moment was unwise.
“Tsk.”
With a dismissive flick of his wrist, Claude stopped the servant. The chamberlain shut the drawer.
“Then let us be brief. Whatever tasks you have for him can wait. I am currently building my own inner circle, and Adrian Grimaldi is a perfect candidate for it.”
“Is my own service not sufficient?”
“You are an asset, Count, but new wine requires new skins. Your involvement carries too much weight; it makes people uneasy.”
“Then consider Lev Zid. He is currently the most capable knight in all of Dalkatir.”
“A member of my guard should be pleasing to the eye. You might not value aesthetics, Count, but I prefer beauty in my companions. Furthermore, Adrian carries the prestige of the Grimaldi name.”
More importantly, the boy was still impressionable. Claude relished the idea of taking him under his wing and domesticating him before he grew into a cunning fox like his father. Once the Count passed away, Adrian would inherit the title, providing Claude with a powerful ally when he eventually took the throne. Conversely…
“The Zid family is of no consequence. Without your patronage, Count, he would be a nobody regardless of his talent. No one of status would employ such a man.”
“And yet, Your Highness—”
“Count.”
Claude cut him off before the refusal could be voiced.
“This is the first time you’ve truly pushed back against me. Is it your own blood that makes you so stubborn?”
“Naturally. He is my only living son.”
“You had two children, if I recall.”
“One was taken by the Goddess of Death long ago.”
“Ah, the beautiful one. Had she survived, I might have brought her into the palace as a consort. Think of how much closer that would have made our bond.”
“She was marked by a curse. She would have been an unworthy match for a man of your stature, Your Highness.”
“Do I look like the sort of man who fears a little superstition?”
Claude thought it might actually be an advantage. Had he known things would turn out this way, he might have hinted that the son was just as dangerous. Regardless, Spencer’s schemes seemed to be unraveling.
Neither Adrian’s passing nor Adrina’s transformation into her brother had gone according to plan.
“What is your true intention for Adrian Grimaldi?”
“He is the heir to your Earldom. He needs to see the world.”
“And he will gain this experience at Pallesa Palace?”
The most he would do here was act as a glorified escort for the nobility. He was assigned to the 2nd Knights Order, which included men of far lower birth than himself. Any noble with the King’s favor could linger in this place.
“I am sending him to Ionad.”
The Royal Palace was a different world entirely.
“Ionad is far superior to this crumbling fortress.”
It was common knowledge that the capital offered the best opportunities for advancement.
“It is for the boy’s benefit, for yours, and for mine.”
The logic was difficult to argue against. This was precisely why Spencer had sent the child to Pallesa Palace to begin with.
It would have been simpler if the child had remained unnoticed in the 3rd Knights Order. If not for the interference of Roy Gallardo, there would have been no reason to move Adrian. But because of Roy, Adrian had become attached to the Duke, leading directly to this meeting with Claude—the one man he should have stayed far away from.
Everything had spiraled out of control. Noticing the Count’s visible distress, Claude pressed his advantage.
“You see the wisdom in my words now, don’t you?”
“I do. If that is what Your Highness decrees.”
The father and son were identical in their phrasing. If it is your command. Claude found it peculiar. He was always giving orders, yet the Grimaldis never seemed to truly submit to them in their hearts.
“Excellent. The formal order will be issued once the festival concludes.”
Using a child as a pawn was a classic royal tactic. Spencer hadn’t expected the Crown Prince to make such a move so soon. He realized he would have to completely restructure his strategy.
“Things are getting quite heated between those two.”
Joel’s comment caught Gavin off guard. Gavin looked at him, confused, and Bert, who was following closely, wore a similar expression. Bert had arrived early to deliver a report, but he remained silent at Joel’s remark, watching the chamberlains walk ahead.
“Heated?”
“I’m serious, it’s intense. I saw them kissing yesterday, and—”
“They do that every day,” Bert pointed out, cutting him off. Joel and Gavin both snapped their heads around to look at him. Gavin nodded, conceding the point. “He’s right. It’s a daily occurrence.” Joel waved his hands frantically, trying to clarify.
“No, this wasn’t the usual thing. It was… powerful! I’m telling you!”
“Sure, whatever you say.”
“I’m not joking! It felt completely different!”
Joel’s attempts at explanation fell on deaf ears. While the sight had shocked them initially, the frequency of the displays had made them lose their impact.
Though whispers were spreading, the staff didn’t pay them much mind. No one actually expected a permanent union; the arrangement would dissolve the moment the curse was lifted. Both the Duke’s household and Adi Grimaldi likely shared that expectation.
Gavin gave a polite knock before entering the bedchamber.
“Your Excellency, have you woken?”
“I have.”
The room went still. The voice hadn’t undergone a total transformation, but it carried a new weight and a deeper resonance than before.
“Gavin.”
“Yes, Your Excellency?”
“I require a blade.”
“Pardon me?”
“My nails have grown.”
Yuls stood and brushed a hand over his face. His height had shifted; he was looking down at them from a new vantage point. He had grown again overnight. A small, subtle smile played on his lips as he added, “I seem to have grown a beard as well.” Bert and Gavin immediately shifted their gaze toward Joel.
Joel’s expression screamed that he had been right about the intensity of the previous night.
Yet, despite the charged atmosphere, nothing further had transpired between the two. How was it possible for his physical growth to have accelerated again?
The three men turned their attention to Adrian. In the morning light, his face appeared ghost-white, as if the very life had been pulled from him. It was the final proof they needed.
“It is Adrian.”
The Grimaldi heir was the key to breaking the Woodpecker curse.
