Chapter 48
==================================================
Had the Duke’s growth spurt been foreseeable, a larger wardrobe would have been ready. Roy’s garments were far too small, and while Bert’s clothes matched him in stature, the torso was excessively baggy.
Gavin meticulously layered the attire, pinning a sparkling brooch over a neatly knotted cravat. He hesitated over the heavy formal coat. While protocol generally demanded it, the King wasn’t due until later, and the stifling humidity had driven most guests toward lighter fabrics.
Deciding comfort was the better choice, Gavin stepped back. Yuls stood before his glass, studying the person looking back. The resemblance to his late mother was striking.
“What age do I appear to be?”
Yuls broke the silence. Bert circled him, evaluating his profile from several perspectives. He possessed the height of a man, yet a lingering softness in his features made him seem younger than his years. His cascading hair only heightened the likeness to her. Though the household praised the length, perhaps a trim was necessary.
“I’d estimate twenty. Honestly, if you stayed this way, the curse remaining wouldn’t be such a tragedy.”
“I need to mature further. A leader requires a certain commanding presence.”
“Youth is a gift, Your Excellency.”
Yuls considered this. While the staff favored the long hair, he wondered if Adrian or Roy would agree. Beyond personal preference, he had to weigh how the people of Woodpecker Castle would react to his return.
“If I may ask,” Bert ventured.
“How did this transformation occur?”
Gavin shared the curiosity. He couldn’t make sense of the ‘viscous’ description he’d heard earlier. Nothing about Adrian and the Duke’s interaction this morning seemed sticky or strange. He suspected Joel might have been talking nonsense, yet the lifting of the curse proved a significant shift had occurred between them.
“It was nothing out of the ordinary,” Yuls remarked with a shrug.
“A standard occurrence. The only difference was that I took the lead this time.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I simply felt the inclination.”
Gavin was baffled but lacked the courage to press for details, glancing at Bert for support. Bert, however, looked just as stunned and offered no help.
Yuls turned his attention toward the window.
“The sky has turned quite somber.”
“Rain is imminent, sir.”
“The storm will likely break into a light mist eventually.”
“Indeed. That is when the true festivities commence.”
Yuls let out a dark chuckle, thinking of the audience he would soon have with the monarch.
“And the King?”
“He is scheduled to arrive this evening, as tradition dictates.”
“Seeing me like this will surely ruin his mood.”
Yuls couldn’t suppress a smirk. He savored the thought of the shock on their faces. How much would it gall them to see him fully grown?
“I find myself looking forward to it.”
*
The heavens bruised over instantly. A few stray droplets hit the ground before the clouds unleashed a resonant boom. Lightning flickered, momentarily silencing the music.
Then, the deluge arrived. It was a sensory assault—the scent of wet earth, the roar of the downpour, and the sudden chill of water soaking through fabric. Laughter erupted as crowds scrambled for the shelter of nearby stone walls.
There was a raw, intimidating beauty in the storm. Though childhood memories were often a blurred void, such visceral moments always managed to pull the past into focus.
The image of Grimaldi under a gray, rainy sky surfaced in her mind.
“The gala tents are going to collapse,” someone remarked.
“Unlikely. These are for the King’s benefit. The sorcerers will ensure they stand.”
“It seems a waste to use high-ranking mages for party decorations.”
“The world is changing. They say the Northern Continent is undergoing a Magic Revolution where spells are used for everyday chores.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Do you never look at the broadsheets?”
“I don’t. Do you actually read those?”
“Constantly.”
She wondered how he occupied his time. He avoided social circles, ignored the news, and bypassed friends. His life was a cycle of drills and labor; even their rare chess matches felt like he was handing her the victory.
“You recall the requirement, don’t you?”
“Which one?”
“A protector of the Duke cannot suffer a single defeat in a trial of blades. Didn’t Joel mention that?”
“He did?”
“Yes, prior to your placement.”
“I was never told.”
Roy’s complexion drained of color. While a knight’s prowess was always a point of honor, the realization that a loss might bar him from Woodpecker was a heavy blow.
Sensing his mounting anxiety, Adi spoke up. “Relax.”
“You’re going to win.”
“Kind words only help when there’s a real chance of victory.”
“Lev and I share the same training. Just picture him as a slightly more formidable version of me. You can take me, can’t you?”
“But I have no idea what Lev is capable of.”
“You know his style better than anyone. We’ve fought every night, and you usually come out on top. Catch him by surprise.”
“How?”
“Incorporate some Grimaldi techniques. He won’t expect that from you.”
Adi gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. It baffled her how a man with such a gentle grip could be so lethal with a sword.
“Bring home the win, Roy.”
“Shouldn’t you be rooting for your old friend?”
“Lev?”
“Exactly. You two are from the same neck of the woods.”
“And you share a hometown with Kenneth Marks.”
“Don’t you dare group me with him.”
“The North was tamed by Grimaldi because he was one of their own. The Zid family only survived because they played the part of his lapdogs, right?”
“That’s your own kin you’re talking about. You’re being incredibly harsh.”
“If Grimaldi was cursed for his violence, why did the Zid family escape unscathed?”
“Because it wasn’t a curse. That’s obvious.”
Adi looked up sharply at Roy’s words.
“The way your brother died… it probably wasn’t supernatural either.”
It could have been a simple, tragic accident. Death rarely gives a warning or a reason.
“Perhaps,” Adi murmured.
“I hope you’re right.”
She wanted to believe her life hadn’t cost Adrian his. The weight of existing in his stead, using his identity like a borrowed coat, was usually manageable, but today it felt like a physical burden. The storm outside mirrored the turbulence in her own chest.
“The rain isn’t letting up.”
“It’ll probably pour until nightfall.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’ll be clear by tomorrow for the festival’s start.”
Nature always seemed to cooperate with the schedule. The rain would vanish, leaving the soil rich and ready for the celebration. To those who worked the land, this weather was a blessing.
Through the gray sheets of water, figures hurried toward the ducal quarters.
“The seamster is returning.”
“The Duke has outgrown his clothes again.”
“Wait, again?”
“Yes. He’s significantly taller than you now.”
“I’m considered tall for a southerner!”
“And you’re a dwarf by northern standards!”
“Point taken,” Adi conceded, her eyes narrowing as she looked ahead.
The Crown Prince was emerging onto a sheltered walkway where others had gathered to escape the rain. Claude stood at the edge of the balcony, a strange, distant smile on his face as he watched the lightning. He looked almost manic. His eyes swept across the grounds until they locked onto hers.
“There’s the Prince. Why is he grinning at a thunderstorm? Is he a fan of bad weather?”
“Maybe he’s a secret farmer.”
“That makes zero— actually, wait.”
Roy considered it. Better crops meant more gold in the treasury. It made a twisted kind of sense.
Claude gave a friendly wave toward Adi and Roy. A cluster of aristocrats from Pallesa Palace approached him, led by Count Grimaldi.
The nobles followed the Prince’s gaze, their eyes landing on the spot where the two of them stood.
Adi stared back at her father. Spencer Grimaldi’s lips moved. He knew his voice wouldn’t carry, so he articulated each syllable with exaggerated clarity.
‘Come to my quarters tonight.’
Adi gave a sharp, subtle nod. Claude, assuming the gesture was for him, looked pleased.
“I need to head back,” Adi said.
“Fair enough. I’ll go find someone else to train with.”
When Roy mentioned that Illich was eager for a rematch, Adi offered only a distracted grunt of acknowledgement.
She watched Spencer Grimaldi exchange a few final words with the Prince before they shared a formal parting bow. Adi turned toward the residence. She needed to stow her gear before facing the head of the Grimaldi house.
