Chapter 80
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The relentless glare of the sun made the arid climate nearly unbearable. For those pushed to physical exertion, the conditions were even more punishing.
“Keep up the pace! Move your legs!”
Bert, a man she had once considered a mere peer in the Escort Knight Division, was a reliable friend but a merciless taskmaster when it came to training.
Groans and quiet oaths rippled through the ranks. Rather than taking offense, Bert seemed energized by the sound. He appeared to find a twisted joy in the suffering of his subordinates, as if their agony was a direct indicator of their sharpening blades and growing endurance. Watching him grin at the sight of young men doubled over in pain was a truly unsettling spectacle.
“How do you expect to survive a real fight moving like that?”
Roy hissed a quiet insult toward their supervisor, who was still shouting with a dark smile. He called him a depraved lunatic under his breath, but the abuse only seemed to brighten Bert’s mood.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to let a girl outshine you!”
The Duke’s military power was divided into various regiments. Under the Woodpecker banner, there were the Escort Knights, several frontline battalions, and the elite Night Watchmen. The leaders of these groups frequently organized competitive drills to test their strength. Adi was currently serving within Bert’s unit of the Escort Knights.
“Damn it, there’s no way to counter that blade!”
It was becoming clear that the techniques of Grimaldi were just as effective in the south as they were in the north. Bert watched with narrowed eyes, clearly eyeing the unique style that Roy Gallardo had somehow managed to learn. While one could imitate the movements, the core secrets of the form remained elusive to those just watching.
If Adi had a weakness, it was the unavoidable reality of her physical limits compared to the men.
“Your energy is flagging! Push through it!”
Adi was well aware that her survival depended on ending encounters quickly. Forcing her breathing into a steady rhythm despite her exhaustion, she accelerated. She parried a heavy blow, stepped inside her opponent’s guard, and rested her sword’s edge against his throat. Had she not pulled the strike, the man would have been decapitated.
“The point goes to Adrina Dean.”
Adi sheathed her weapon the moment the verdict was delivered. Nearby, Roy paused his own strength training to shake his head in disbelief.
The drills typically separated knights from pages, but because Adi was maintaining a disguise as a page, she was matched against the trainees. None of these boys stood a chance against someone who had held her own within the dangerous halls of Pallesa Palace.
Using her sleeve to mop the perspiration from her brow, Adi looked down at the page she had bested. He was sprawled on the dirt, lungs burning. While he struggled for air, Adi took a few measured breaths to regain her composure.
When the commanders finally signaled a break, Adi retreated to the shade. She watched the knights collapse and crawl toward the trees. Roy was the first among them to drag himself over.
Amused that a man could move so quickly on all fours, Adi took a long drink from her canteen. She then dumped the remaining water over Roy, who had stripped off his upper layers and was lying flat on the ground.
“That felt incredible. Don’t stop.”
“…”
His comment immediately killed her desire to help. When the water stopped, Roy squinted up at her. “Is that all?” Adi simply took another drink herself, ignoring him.
“You really are a heartless one.”
“Are you talking about me, or is that for Bert?”
Roy decided the description fit both of them perfectly.
He had seen her train and fight before, but when he believed she was a man, her prowess seemed expected. He had figured that anyone known as the ‘Dog of Pallesa Palace’ had to be at least this capable.
However, realizing Adi was a woman changed his perspective. Seeing her systematically dismantle every page in the Woodpecker territory was something else entirely.
“The pages are an easy mark,” she remarked.
“Keep that attitude up, and they’ll start calling you the ‘Dog of Woodpecker’ next.”
Adi gave a small shrug. Her reputation had never been stellar, regardless of where she lived. It had been tarnished at Pallesa Palace and equally stained in Grimaldi.
“She’s got the exact same cold streak as Bert,” one of the passing pages whispered.
“They say she’s his kin. Just as vicious.”
“Maybe it’s the Dean name. That tax man, Bertram Dean, was a real piece of work too…”
To Adi, the men of Woodpecker actually seemed quite mild. She wondered if people grew kinder the further south one traveled. There was a theory that constant sunlight improved a person’s disposition; she found herself wondering if even Spencer Grimaldi might have been a different man if he hadn’t been raised in the cold.
“I need a drink. Give me a hand up,” Roy groaned, reaching out.
It wasn’t Adi who grabbed his hand, but Bert. The commander hauled Roy to his feet and delivered a stinging slap to his back. When Roy bolted, complaining about the heat as Bert told him to get dressed, they looked more like a father and son than officer and soldier.
Bert shook a fist at the retreating Roy before turning his attention to Adi.
“Adi.”
“Sir.”
“Pay no mind to what they say.”
She looked at him with genuine confusion. She didn’t think he meant Roy’s teasing, so he must have been referring to the pages calling her vicious. Since she viewed that particular trait as a professional necessity, she hadn’t taken it as an insult.
“You mean about my temperament?”
Bert looked almost apologetic, but Adi cut him off.
“I think your personality is actually quite pleasant, Bert.”
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”
“I’m being honest. Compared to Spencer Grimaldi, almost everyone in the world is a saint.”
Bert couldn’t argue with that comparison. Against a man like Spencer, who wouldn’t seem like a good person?
“I suppose you’re right.”
Adi let out a small, dry laugh.
“Being told I resemble the Guard is more of a compliment than anything else.”
She seemed to smile more often since their arrival at Woodpecker. There was a sense of liberation about her that had been absent at Pallesa Palace. Bert realized he hadn’t truly known her back then. He reached out and ruffled her hair affectionately.
“Adi!”
Joel was hurrying toward them from across the training grounds.
“The Duke is asking for you.”
Adi took her leave of Bert and followed Joel back toward the main estate.
Julius Woodpecker was a man of many contradictions. For one, his personal study was filled with greenery. Despite his rugged appearance, he had a gentle touch with plants, and they seemed to thrive under his care.
Furthermore, he preferred the greenhouse over his actual office. He spent nearly all his waking hours there, working among the flowers unless he was eating or sleeping.
She found the Duke in the center of the glass structure. He was surrounded by his staff, though she only recognized a few faces, including Joel.
“Your Excellency.”
Their dynamic remained unchanged despite the new setting. Adi continued her ritual of greeting him every morning and evening, marking the occasion by kissing the back of his hand.
Some of the chamberlains clearly resented the gesture, watching her with cold, suspicious eyes. She didn’t care what they whispered about her in private. Just as it had been at Pallesa Palace, Adi remained an outsider among the Duke’s established household.
At the Duke’s silent invitation, Adi stepped forward and took his hand. She couldn’t tell if his condition was truly improving; his body showed the wear of his years, but he no longer seemed as desperate or hurried as he once had.
As her lips touched his skin, Yuls spoke quietly. “A bit of news has reached me.”
Adi looked up. “What kind of news?”
She wondered if he was referring to her recent bouts with the pages or perhaps the way she had handled the knights who were spreading rumors about Bert’s favoritism.
“Marchioness Connolly has officially taken in the daughter of the Lintu family,” he said.
“I see.”
This wasn’t a shock to her. Roy had mentioned the possibility before. Given the legal paperwork required, the timing seemed right. It was actually more surprising that the Duke hadn’t heard it sooner.
“Along with that news came a formal request for my presence at the upcoming social season.”
“The winter events in the capital?” Adi asked, glancing at the staff. Their stiff postures suggested they were determined to make him attend.
“It is expected of you, isn’t it?”
“Will you be at my side?”
“Does my preference matter?”
“It does to me,” Yuls replied. “I have no intention of going without you.”
One of the nearby chamberlains scowled at the Duke’s words. It was clear he viewed Adi with profound distaste.
“I want your thoughts on this. We would be returning to Ionad.”
“I believe you should go.”
“You wish to return to the capital?”
“I go wherever Your Excellency goes.”
“I’d prefer you didn’t grow too fond of the city. There are many there who would like to keep you for themselves.”
“I have no reason to be there if you are not.”
“Then it’s settled. We shall go. However, I intend to arrive sooner.”
“Sooner? When do you mean?”
“This summer.”
Adi went silent, a sentiment mirrored by the confused expressions of the staff. Spring was fading into the heat of early summer. Gavin stepped forward from the shadows.
“Sir, are you suggesting you will attend the Council sessions?”
“Indeed. I’ve used the management of my lands as a shield for long enough.”
The kingdom followed a strict rhythm. Autumn was for the harvest and taxes, winter for the nobility’s balls. Spring was a time of public celebration, and the heat of summer was reserved for politics.
“Part of my absence was due to my health,” the Duke admitted. “I wouldn’t have been taken seriously in my previous state.”
The Council was a battlefield of legislation, diplomacy, and administrative maneuvering. It was where the crown, the old guard, and the rising bureaucracy clashed. This year, the primary focus would undoubtedly be the crisis in Thuringen.
“I’ve received word that Count Grimaldi has arrived back in Ionad,” Yuls added.
Adi’s gaze sharpened.
“It appears Claude has finally made his move.”
If they traveled to Ionad now, a confrontation with Spencer Grimaldi was inevitable.
