Chapter 72
The garment was a simple, one-piece construction, which was a stroke of luck. While winter attire often involved a complex layering of various fabrics and patterns, summer fashion favored a more straightforward design.
Adi shed her knight’s trousers and stepped into a petticoat before pulling the dress over her frame. The crinoline lacked the heavy volume of a winter bustle, making the task of dressing herself relatively manageable.
It still required effort, however. She had to stand on the fabric and haul it upward, guiding her arms through the short, capped sleeves. The chemise remained visible beneath the dress, a detail she couldn’t fix alone since the buttons were located at the back.
When she emerged from the dressing room in this state, Billy gave an approving nod. He observed that the chemise showing actually worked in her favor, as it masked her shoulders and arms.
A bit unconventional, perhaps, but it looked like a deliberate fashion statement. It was certainly preferable to showing off the hard, corded muscles of a swordsman’s forearms. They decided to finish the look and see if accessories were needed to balance the aesthetic.
Billy then gestured for her to take a seat, addressing her formally as Sir Adrian Grimaldi. He informed her that it was time for the wig and cosmetics. Adi sat there, looking somewhat lost, as Billy told her to close her eyes.
He fitted a chestnut-brown wig over her pinned hair, trimming the locks with precision before styling the long strands. Despite his earlier claim that he wouldn’t pin it up, he clearly had a specific vision in mind for the arrangement.
Next came the application of various powders and paints he had sourced from somewhere unknown. The sensation of the brushes against her skin was jarring. The novelty of the experience made every touch feel amplified. Billy worked in silence, only pausing to remind her to keep her mouth still and her face relaxed before finally giving her permission to look.
Adi blinked her eyes open. Her face didn’t feel as caked in products as she had anticipated. Billy noted that while he would normally add a shimmer of crushed gems to her lashes for a formal gala, it seemed unnecessary for a nighttime outing.
Adi remained silent, privately thinking that the idea of putting stone dust near one’s eyes was madness. If noblewomen actually did that, they were far more resilient than she had ever given them credit for.
Billy moved to the final touches, suggesting that the chemise should be tucked in so he could fasten the necklace. However, before he could reach for the buttons, Yuls caught his wrist. Adi instinctively recoiled as well.
Billy didn’t seem offended, assuming the Northerners were simply guarded about their personal space. He presented a strand of pearls, asking if she preferred to handle the jewelry herself. Adi gave a small nod and began working on her own buttons.
As she did, Billy watched her hands. They were delicately shaped, yet marred by an incredible number of scars. He couldn’t imagine what had caused such damage, but her knuckles were calloused and bruised, and her skin was a map of old wounds.
While the rest of her looked undeniably feminine in the dress, her hands were a giveaway. Still, they were small enough that a pair of gloves would hide the evidence. He decided to find a pair of elbow-length gloves in a deep shade that would complement the dress.
Adi took the pearls, but it was clear she had no idea how to drape them. Seeing her struggle, Yuls reached out. He asked for the necklace, claiming he could manage it after having seen it done before. He remarked that it had to be simpler than tying a military knot.
The Duke manipulated the jewelry with surprising dexterity. Adi watched, baffled by how he could create such a complex shape with a few twists. To her, a military knot was infinitely more logical. She suspected the Duke was a better liar than he let on; no one achieved that level of skill just by watching. It was strange to see a man who was usually dressed by servants show such proficiency.
Yuls told her to mind her hair, and Adi swept the brown tresses over her shoulder. The length felt heavy and cumbersome, reminding her of how she used to wear her hair long ago.
Yuls stared at the back of her neck. He had always known she was slight, but the dress emphasized the fragile curve of her neck and the delicateness of her shoulders. When he moved to fasten the clasp, she flinched. She caught his eye for a split second before looking away. Yuls felt a sudden, inexplicable dryness in his throat, but he ignored it and secured the pearls.
Billy returned with a lace wrap to drape over her. He paused, looking at the two of them. With the height difference and the way Yuls was tending to her, they looked perfectly matched as a couple.
The servant was genuinely impressed by the transformation. He mused that if Adrian’s twin sister were still alive, she would have been the talk of the capital. It was his way of paying a high compliment—if he could make the brother look this beautiful, the sister would have been a masterpiece.
Yuls ignored the chatter, as was his habit, and Adi didn’t take the comments to heart. They both knew the truth in his words. Yuls looked at her with a trace of worry. Billy was right; she was striking. She was the kind of woman people wouldn’t easily forget.
Billy began to ramble about how he could serve the Duke’s future wife with these skills, but he cut himself off. He remembered the scandalous rumors about the Duke and his knight. Seeing Adi now, looking so much like a woman, only made his thoughts more confused.
Just then, Bert and Roy entered the room to report that preparations were nearly complete. Roy started to speak but stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening. He recognized the Duke and Billy, but the woman sitting there was a stranger—yet her face was hauntingly familiar.
The brown hair completely shifted her presence, but it was more than that. Her silhouette was undeniably feminine. The makeup gave her a rosy, healthy glow that contrasted sharply with her pale Northern skin.
Roy breathed her name in disbelief. There was no mistaking it; she looked entirely like a lady.
While Roy was reeling from the visual change, Bert was processing the reality that she was, in fact, a woman. He complimented Billy on the seamless disguise. Billy beamed, proud of his handiwork, boastfully claiming he had managed to make a man look exactly like a lady.
Of course, the irony was that she was a lady, so the transformation was merely a return to form.
Bert turned his focus back to business, asking for her Knight’s Journal. Adi retrieved the book from her discarded uniform. A knight’s journal was a sacred object, kept until the end of one’s life. If she was to stage her own death, the book had to be part of the scene.
She hesitated for a moment before opening the journal and ripping out several pages. When Bert asked why, she explained that anyone investigating her death would assume she hadn’t acted alone. By keeping certain pages, she would make it look as though her “employer” had killed her to cover their tracks. She tucked the folded pages into her bodice, noting that a conspirator would never leave such evidence behind.
Bert took the journal, agreeing with her logic. He would deliver it to Ivan to ensure the deception was airtight, while the Duke escorted Adi out of the palace.
Yuls gave Roy orders to get the journal to Ivan or Gavin immediately, as their departure was imminent. Roy hurried off to comply.
Once Roy was out of earshot, Bert addressed her as Adrian. When she responded, he mentioned that the Duke had ordered them to find a female corpse for the ruse. He looked at her, truly seeing the woman beneath the disguise for the first time. He wondered how they had all been so blind.
He asked if she was the child known as Adrian. Adi explained that the real Adrian had been sickly, a fact well-known in their home. Bert nodded; everyone in Dalcatir knew of Sir Adrian’s poor health. When the boy seemingly recovered and the daughter, Adrina, died, people assumed a miracle had occurred.
The truth was far darker. Bert wanted to ask if she was alright with this life, but he realized she likely never had a say in the matter. He thought of Count Grimaldi. He could almost understand the Count’s actions when he thought Adi was a son, but knowing she was a daughter made the abuse seem even more monstrous.
He asked if there were any specific marks on her body that her family would recognize. Adi listed the recent bruises from her father’s temper and a scar on her ankle from an old assassination attempt. Bert remembered the incident and noted that the wound had long since healed.
He paused, feeling the name “Adrian” no longer fit the woman in the blue gown—especially since it wasn’t her name to begin with. He tried “Adrina” tentatively.
Adi told him he could simply call her Adi. It was a name that belonged to both the brother and the sister, a bridge between the life she lived and the one she had lost.
