Chapter 75
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Civilization might owe its rise to the bounty of the woods, but the deep thickets remained saturated with the scent of expiration. Conversely, the wild reclaimed its glory as human progress faltered. It was as if the ancient groves had vowed to flourish only once the last person capable of wielding an axe had vanished from the earth.
—Mother.
“A Witch once called these trees home,” Yuls remarked as he crossed into the Oak Forest.
The carriage ground to a halt. They had officially crossed the threshold into Woodpecker lands.
Preparations for the trek began immediately. Adi shed the restrictive layers of her noble attire, discarding the corset, petticoat, and heavy gown. Thankfully, Billy had already organized more practical garments for her to change into.
“We are practically on our own doorstep now,” Bert noted.
The members of the Woodpecker household appeared visibly more relaxed here. Even Roy seemed at ease. Standing at the edge of the woods, Adi scanned her surroundings. She found the broad, pale-green leaves of the budding trees captivating; they bore little resemblance to the foliage of fig trees she knew. It was jarring to find a forest that felt so welcoming.
To most, great forests inspired a mixture of reverence and primal terror. The woods of the Grimaldi family were exactly like that—jagged, hostile, and utterly untamed. Yet, this place seemed to greet them with open arms.
Perhaps, she reflected, the natural world only harbored a grudge against the Grimaldi line.
“The Witch’s influence is still woven into these woods,” Yuls added.
Legends spoke of the Red-haired Witch, a woman who adorned her tresses with forest nuts, vibrant ribbons, and the plumage of birds. It was said the inaugural Duke Woodpecker encountered her the moment he arrived to claim his new southern domain.
“There are three distinct trails through the Oak Forest,” Bert explained. “One for humanity, one for the wild creatures, and the final one belongs to the Witch.”
He continued as Adi and Roy listened intently, while the others remained indifferent to the familiar lore. “Commoners are barred from the Witch’s Path. Only those who carry her lineage or have earned her favor may walk it.”
“We intend to use that very path,” Bert said. “The standard human route would take us four days to reach our destination, but the Witch’s Path will get us to the cabin in just five hours.”
“Only five hours?” Roy blurted out, his voice thick with skepticism.
As a southerner, Roy understood the massive scale of the Oak Forest even if Adi did not. The timeline seemed physically impossible, and he had never heard rumors of such a magical shortcut. However, he glanced at Yuls and swallowed his doubt. If the Duke was involved, the impossible often became reality, so he held his tongue.
“Does someone among us actually possess the Witch’s blessing?” Adi inquired.
Her question was met with a heavy, collective silence. For a moment, she feared she had committed a social blunder. Then, as quickly as they had stared, the men looked away.
“It is something along those lines,” Bert answered vaguely.
Adi wondered if being cursed qualified as a substitute for a blessing in the eyes of the forest.
The group unhitched the horses and abandoned the carriages. With three teams available, everyone had a mount. They transferred their essential gear into saddlebags themselves. When Roy voiced concern about leaving the expensive carriages behind, he was informed that a recovery team would retrieve them shortly.
Yuls took the lead, his horse stepping onto the trail without hesitation. Adi couldn’t discern what made this the Witch’s Path; to her eyes, it looked like any other stretch of woods. She couldn’t tell if it was a literal magical road or simply a local term for a well-hidden shortcut.
The scale of the greenery was breathtaking. This massive ecological spine began at the Dalcatir peninsula in the west and climbed north through Thuringen, eventually reaching Ripernsi within the Belipeera Empire. Though the types of trees shifted with the climate, it remained a single, unbroken titan of nature.
In many regions, the forest had been scarred and fragmented by the spread of cities, but the Oak Forest of Dalcatir remained largely untouched—a relic of a primeval world. Because the lands below were fertile plains, there had never been a reason for settlers to clear the rugged heights.
The air was filled with birdsong. A small bird scanned its surroundings before letting out a sharp whistle and taking flight at their approach. Despite the bright afternoon light, the canopy grew increasingly dense and shadowed as they ventured deeper, especially as the sun began its descent.
Adi watched the Duke as he rode ahead. He seemed transformed, moving with a sense of liberation. Yuls appeared to be in high spirits, drawing in the forest air as if it were life-giving.
Woodland creatures didn’t flee from him. While they skittered away in fear from the rest of the party, they seemed to view Yuls as a natural part of the landscape.
His vibrant red hair truly did mimic the plumage of a woodpecker. He reminded her of a bird that used its brilliant colors to claim its space and attract a mate. Even in silence, his presence seemed to vibrate through the trees, marking the entire forest as his personal kingdom.
It was a stunning realization—one she hadn’t dared to picture before. The forest seemed to adore him, and he appeared to return that affection wholeheartedly.
Yuls turned his head, perhaps sensing her scrutiny. He truly was like a magnificent, exotic bird.
“You seem very much at home here, Your Excellency,” Adi noted.
Yuls remained silent for a long moment before finally nodding. “I find it much easier to breathe in this place.”
Adi didn’t share that sensation; to her, the air felt the same. Yet the Duke was clearly energized. The way he looked at the trees held a warmth and genuine fondness that had been entirely absent in the gilded halls of the palace.
He usually felt like a distant figure, but here, that distance took on a different quality. He seemed so attuned to the woods that she feared he might simply dissolve into the shadows and leaves. It felt as though she were witnessing something sacred and unattainable. She couldn’t quite name the emotion, but it unsettled her.
“The Woodpecker estate is filled with greenery,” she said, almost to herself. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the forest might eventually claim him for its own.
“It is much like the woods,” she added, even though the land technically belonged to him.
“Is your home an estate rather than a fortress?” she asked.
“The old castle was destroyed during the conflict,” Yuls explained. “I commissioned a new estate in its place.”
He spoke with a rare smile, revealing a deep pride in his home. “I gathered every master craftsman in the province to build it. Some call it the Summer Palace because the greenery never fades, even in the heart of winter. It features sprawling gardens and a massive glasshouse. I think you’ll find it pleasant.”
“If you have a Summer Palace, do you have one for winter as well?”
Yuls let out a soft laugh. “Hardly. I own several properties—some are grand enough to be called palaces, others are fortified—but none are dedicated to winter. Snow is a rarity in Woodpecker. Our fields stay green year-round, and the coastal waters are warm enough for the fishing fleets to work through every season. It is a gentle, peaceful land.”
At least, that was his perspective. Woodpecker had escaped the worst of the wars, protected by the natural fortress of the surrounding forest. Every corner of the territory was beautiful.
“But this forest,” Yuls said, tilting his head back to gaze at the towering canopy, “is my favorite place of all.”
The wind caught his hair, making the red strands dance. “I only feel truly alive when I am here.”
For a fleeting second, Adi felt he looked like something other than a mortal man.
“Of course,” he added, “it becomes quite treacherous once the sun goes down.”
The sky was bleeding into shades of crimson as evening took hold. The sound of wings drew her attention to a bird taking flight. It was peculiar; despite the abundance of birds, they hadn’t encountered a single predator. She caught the glint of predatory eyes watching from the thickets, but the beasts seemed to realize that those on the Witch’s Path were not to be hunted.
The entire journey felt surreal.
As the light failed, Bert, Gavin, and Ivan began preparing torches by wrapping heavy cloth around wooden branches.
Joel provided the flame. Though he was primarily a healer, he possessed a versatile grasp of utility magic. When Joel joked that such skills were a prerequisite for becoming a head chamberlain, Adi knew he was teasing. The stiff, formal servants of the Grimaldi family certainly couldn’t do anything of the sort.
They traveled for another hour before a structure emerged from the gloom. It was a log cabin, though its size suggested something much larger—a lodge capable of housing at least eight people comfortably.
“At last,” Joel said, stepping toward the door. Adi couldn’t tell if he used a key or a spell to grant them entry.
“This is a regular stop for us,” Joel explained. “The Night Watchmen use it frequently. There are four bedrooms, which usually fits ten people, though we could squeeze in twenty if we didn’t mind the lack of personal space.”
The interior was surprisingly roomy.
“I suggest His Excellency takes a private room,” Joel proposed. “The rest of us can pair up or share three to a room.”
Upon hearing this, Bert, Gavin, and Ivan exchanged unreadable looks. Their eyes all turned toward Adi simultaneously. She stared back, confused by their sudden focus.
In the middle of the tension, Roy draped an arm over Adi’s shoulder. “Since we’re doubling up, do you want to be my roommate?”
The expressions on the faces of Bert, Gavin, and Ivan turned instantly to stone.
