Chapter 66
The pressure from Thuringen was only going to mount. Their diplomats were expected to grow more aggressive in their pleas for military assistance. While Tuberosa had already shut the door on them and Belipeera remained noncommittal, the neighboring kingdom was desperate. They were casting a wide net for allies, yet most nations remained idle. Their final hope rested on the Kingdom of Dalkatir, though everything hinged on the King’s ultimate verdict.
“The King will likely grant their request,” Yuls remarked. “And he’ll ensure the very people who loathe the idea are the ones forced to execute it.”
Grimaldi stood at the top of that list of dissenters. It was a calculated move; the King would surely deploy Grimaldi to Thuringen as a blatant display of his sovereign authority.
“It isn’t as if Luigi is a stranger to the royals in Thuringen,” Yuls added.
A new thought weighed on him: how would the King react if that foreign monarchy bypassed him to ask Luigi for help directly? If Luigi took the lead, he might simply refuse to cooperate. Such a move would leave Thuringen feeling more indebted to the Marquis than to their own monarch. Yet, if the King denied the aid entirely, he would lose his most effective leash on Grimaldi.
It was a tangled web of politics. For the moment, Yuls decided that observing from the sidelines was a wiser strategy than jumping into the fray.
“They’ve asked for an audience, so we should grant it,” Yuls concluded. “But we won’t be going in alone.”
He needed a mediator—someone who maintained a civil, if slightly vague, connection to both parties. There was a perfect candidate nearby to act as a silent observer.
“Get a message to Claude.”
*
“I’m absolutely spent!”
Roy groaned as he trudged into the room, his body twisting with fatigue. He complained that standing like a statue all day had left him restless, a claim he punctuated by dropping for a set of frantic push-ups before pacing and hopping around the floor.
“Is your watch over?” Adi asked.
“Finally. You’re awake already? You should have slept longer.”
“I’m alright. I got plenty of rest yesterday.”
While her physical exhaustion had faded, her mind was a whirlwind of tactical possibilities. The stillness of her body only seemed to make her thoughts more hyperactive. She ran through various scenarios, though none felt certain. For now, her best bet was to remain by the Duke’s side, betting on the hope that he wouldn’t discard her once she outlived her usefulness.
“So, I heard you’re coming with us,” Roy noted. “To Woodpecker, right?”
“That’s the plan.”
“I’m glad.” Roy’s face lit up with a genuine grin. “The South is incredible. You’re going to love it there. And the food—it’s on another level. I can finally get a decent meal into you.”
He spoke with the conviction of a man who viewed any cuisine outside the South as literal trash. Adi saw a fanatical glint in his eyes and realized that if she dared to disagree, she would be subjected to a grueling lecture on Southern culinary superiority.
“…I’m looking forward to it,” she managed to say.
“Trust me. Once you’ve had a taste, the North will be a distant memory. You’ll want to uproot all of Grimaldi and drag it down to the border just to stay close to the kitchens.”
Adi remained silent, knowing she would never be the master of those Northern lands anyway. Roy turned toward the window, then looked back at her. “Want to take a walk?” he suggested. “Rotting in this room is depressing. Let’s get some fresh air.”
Adi agreed and followed him outside.
It felt like a lifetime since she had enjoyed a quiet afternoon. She stood under the warm sun, her eyes closed, feeling the heat on her skin until a stray cloud drifted overhead. A large shadow swept across the lawn, cooling the grass.
Roy collapsed onto the greenery with a satisfied sigh. He wasn’t alone; the grounds were dotted with people taking advantage of the fine weather. Soldiers, noble guests, and children were all scattered across the field, soaking in the peace.
“Humans need the sun to stay sane,” Roy mused. “I can’t wait to get back to the South. It’s like this every single day there.”
“Doesn’t constant perfection get tedious?” Adi asked.
“What are you even talking about?”
Roy gave her a look of pure bewilderment. His expression suggested he was wondering just how miserable the North had to be to make someone suspicious of a sunny day.
“I’m just not used to things being that pleasant,” she explained.
“…Then I hope the South shows you some mercy,” Roy muttered, his voice trailing off as his attention shifted. “Wait, look over there.”
Adi followed his pointing finger and recognized the figures immediately.
“The Lintu family? And is that Marchioness Connolly?”
“You have a good memory,” Roy said. He seemed to hesitate for a second, wondering if he should disclose what he knew, before deciding it didn’t really matter.
“What’s going on with them?” Adi prompted.
“You’ve seen how the Lintus have been hovering around the Duke, right? They’re desperate for a connection.”
“They seemed quite focused on him,” Adi recalled.
She remembered how they had pursued him even before his recent growth. For a moment, she thought of the Duke’s visible disgust at the idea of such inappropriate advances. While he had no time for that, the Lintu family hadn’t crossed those specific lines, which was likely why he still tolerated their presence occasionally.
“Initially, it was just about climbing the social ladder,” Roy explained. “But now, it seems they’ve actually become infatuated with him.”
“It’s hard to blame them. He’s striking, incredibly wealthy, carries royal blood, and holds a dukedom.”
“True enough. But since the Duke isn’t biting, they’ve decided to try a different route through Marchioness Connolly.”
“His aunt?”
“Technically, though some say she’s actually the sister of his stepmother,” Roy replied.
The gossip surrounding the Duke’s lineage was a messy affair. Among all his siblings, he was the only one with vibrant red hair, a stark contrast to the dark blonde common in the royal line. It was the same shade as the late Duchess of Woodpecker. The Duchess had always used that fact to silence doubters, arguing that the color proved his parentage, yet the rumors never truly died.
“There’s all sorts of talk, but I don’t know the full story,” Roy admitted.
“But the Marchioness has red hair as well,” Adi pointed out.
“Shared hair color doesn’t always mean a blood bond.”
Adi knew he was right. Physical traits could be unpredictable even within a single family. She was proof of that, bearing little resemblance to her own father.
“Anyway, my sources tell me that Marchioness Connolly is planning to formally adopt the Lintu daughter,” Roy continued.
“She’s making her a legal child?”
“Exactly. The Marchioness must feel her current influence over the Duke is too weak. By adopting the girl who is already obsessed with him, she gains a permanent foothold. It secures the girl’s status and removes any social barriers to a potential marriage.”
“That seems like a massive win for the Lintu family. What’s in it for the Marchioness?”
“She isn’t the type to do favors for free,” Roy said. He asked if Adi understood the woman’s reputation, and when Adi admitted she didn’t, Roy took a moment to collect his thoughts.
“Word is the Lintu family is sitting on something valuable. A mine, specifically. They’re keeping the details quiet, but if the Marchioness is this interested, it has to be worth a fortune. Maybe gems, or even mana stones.”
A discovery like that would be worth millions. However, Adi doubted the Duke would be pleased by the arrangement. The Lintu family seemed oblivious to the fact that the Duke and his aunt were on terrible terms—a bit of friction Roy had only recently discovered himself.
Adi watched Roy as he speculated on the unfolding drama. Noticing her stare, he blinked.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re surprisingly well-informed,” she noted.
“Maybe you’re just remarkably uninformed,” he countered with a frown.
He scratched his head, realizing that the Count had likely kept her in the dark just as he had been. They were both essentially orphans of circumstance, fighting to stay afloat. Roy let out a heavy breath.
“I had a goal, so I made it my business to know things. I did my own digging and built a network where I could.”
His maternal relatives had been useless, telling him to let the past stay buried and move on. They had found new lives while he was left behind.
“But in the end, I realized I couldn’t do anything without the Duke’s backing. I had to tether myself to someone with real power.”
Roy was the only one still haunted by what had happened. He didn’t blame his mother for moving on, but the injustice of it still stung.
“A family that only exists on paper is powerless.”
“Is that why you approached me that day?” Adi asked.
“Yeah.”
Roy thought back to their first encounter. He had viewed her as the palace lapdog who had usurped his rightful place, and he had been determined to take it back.
“If I hadn’t made a move, I would have lost everything.”
He remembered the insults he’d hurled—telling her to crawl for him.
“But as it turns out, you’re the reason I’m getting the help I need now.”
The situation had flipped entirely, and Roy had found his footing. He briefly considered joking about crawling between her legs this time, but he sensed Adi wouldn’t find it funny.
“I still don’t quite grasp what the Duke is after,” Adi admitted.
“That’s the simplest part of the puzzle,” Roy said. “He wants to shatter the curse.”
Roy looked at the woman standing before him—the very person who had already accomplished that feat. The Duke had essentially reached his goal, even if Adi didn’t realize her own significance yet.
“But what about his promise to help you?”
“…To be honest, Adi, he isn’t ‘helping’ me. I’m just a tagalong asking for boons. The Duke is just kind enough to let me use his reputation to get things done.”
Kindness felt like the only word for it. The Duke didn’t need allies; he was the one who provided the strength others lacked.
“There’s a reason they call him the Woodpecker King.”
Adi looked at him, waiting for him to clarify.
“A true King doesn’t act out of petty ambition,” Roy explained. “He simply occupies his throne and watches over his world.”
Adi had always assumed the title was a reference to his royal blood and his massive holdings. But listening to Roy, she realized he saw the man as a monarch in his own right.
“People like us just gravitate toward him, hoping for a shred of his favor.”
He wasn’t talking about the man wearing the crown in Dalkatir.
“Unless someone is foolish enough to provoke him, the Duke is content exactly where he is.”
He was talking about the sovereign of the South, the master of the Oak Forest.
“He is our King.”
