Chapter 85
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On the eve of their departure for Ionad, Adi discovered that her pre-packed bags had been completely replaced.
“……”
The delivery waiting for her consisted of far more than her standard martial gear.
“A crimson dress.”
The trunk was overflowing with silk chemises, soft trousers for lounging, feminine undergarments, a restrictive corset, and several intricate contraptions she couldn’t name. Previously, Adi had ignored the sheer volume of gowns stuffed into her wardrobe, shoving them into the shadows under the assumption she would never need them. She had only kept her practical attire within reach.
Her philosophy on travel had always been rooted in utility.
And yet, here she was.
“What use do I have for this?”
Using two fingers, Adi dangled the translucent red fabric in the air. A garment this thin would cling to every curve of her frame. She finally understood the previous instructions to monitor her breathing; it explained the inclusion of a useless accessory like a corset.
The ducal household clearly placed a high premium on her presenting as a woman. While Adi was well aware of her own gender, she questioned the necessity of flaunting it through such flamboyant clothing. In her mind, her identity as a knight was her true self.
Still, the deliberate swap suggested these items were mandatory. Was she expected to perform another masquerade? It seemed unwise to simply discard them. With a grim expression, she set the gown aside.
She could almost stomach the dresses, given they had been provided earlier.
“But why the gems…”
She stared at a small velvet case nestled among her things, containing dozens of sparkling jewels and fine accessories, utterly baffled as to why she would need them.
In Grimaldi, the summer was a ghostly, fleeting season. Regardless of the actual forecast, the atmosphere remained perpetually damp and gray, as if the entire region were trapped in a thick, unending mist.
The summers at Pallesa Palace were tolerable, yet they felt strangely artificial. The moments of high humidity brought a prickle of annoyance to her skin. While some thrived in the heat, Adi found it unbearable.
The trek through Woodpecker territory, however, was stunning. She marveled at the ancient forests, the trails winding alongside the water, and the charming urban parks with their splashing fountains. She watched the drooping willow branches and the tiny green nubs of developing fruit.
Every village they crossed within the Duke’s lands was like a painting. Whether bathed in sunlight or draped in the soft shadows of a cloudy afternoon, the open roads and quiet fields offered a profound sense of serenity.
The subsequent leg toward Ionad was equally pleasant. The two-week journey by sea never felt like a chore. Even the chamberlains and the accompanying knights seemed to enjoy the steady pace.
The lack of hardship likely played a role. Their previous rush from Pallesa to Woodpecker had forced them into grueling nights of camping, but this voyage to Ionad was defined by comfort.
Since it was the peak season for the nobility to head toward the capital, the local inns were packed. Occasionally, wealthy landowners would invite the Duke to dine, sometimes without even realizing his high rank.
Yuls accepted these invitations on rare occasions. He seemed to follow a private set of criteria for his social engagements, though Adi couldn’t decipher his logic.
It was a universal truth that as a city grows, so do its fringes. The outskirts of Ionad were dotted with the sprawling estates of the elite.
While some manors existed within the city proper, the King had restricted the size of urban lots during the city’s construction. On these smaller parcels, nobles usually kept modest townhomes for short-term stays. Many of these underutilized buildings were eventually partitioned and rented out to commoners.
The suburbs felt much more liberated. There were no towering walls to separate the outskirts from the heart of Ionad, and the two areas blended together so seamlessly that the entire region felt like one massive metropolis. A gate existed to mark the capital’s boundary, but it appeared mostly symbolic.
From the window of a carriage, the meticulous planning of the city was undeniable. The architecture followed a rigid, chessboard-like grid. The thoroughfares were expansive, wide enough for four carriages to pass, with stone dividers ensuring traffic flowed smoothly in both directions. The lack of winding turns made for an effortless ride.
It lacked the ancient, weathered soul of Pallesa Palace, but the vibrant streets were alive with a kaleidoscope of fashions, hinting at a melting pot of Dalkatir natives and foreign travelers. It felt like a deliberate exhibition of international luxury.
“Every path leads to the throne,” Bert remarked. Adi tilted her head as he gestured toward the horizon, explaining that the road ran in a perfectly straight line from the outer boundary to the palace.
“It seems vulnerable to invasion if a war ever started,” she noted.
“The assurance of peace was guaranteed back then. The King of that era possessed that much raw power.”
“Does that power still hold today?”
Bert’s expression turned laced with irony at her question.
“Things aren’t quite what they used to be.”
It was common knowledge that the current monarch’s influence had waned compared to his predecessor. Everyone saw it, though the King himself remained in denial. Despite a stable treasury and a prospering nation, he was haunted by the fact that he hadn’t been born the first in line for the throne, blaming his insecurities on that single detail.
The Kingdom of Dalkatir was currently performing a delicate balancing act. The wealth was sufficient for internal stability, but not enough to provide significant foreign aid. Any failed attempt at international charity could bring the whole kingdom crashing down.
“And the Crown Prince…”
Adi cut herself off. It was a risky topic. Regardless of his future as King, it wasn’t the place for a knight to critique his competence. Bert glanced at her but chose not to pursue the thought.
“There it is. The palace is in sight.”
With that, Bert guided his horse alongside the Duke’s carriage. He tapped on the wood, and the small window slid open.
“Sir, the Royal Palace is just ahead.”
Adi couldn’t see Yuls’s reaction. After a short reply, Bert moved toward the lead carriage where Dimitri sat and signaled him as well.
Following a brief discussion, Bert collected a set of official documents.
The palace entrance loomed. Unlike the fortress-like walls of Pallesa, this palace felt accessible, shielded only by an ornate iron fence that allowed glimpses of the interior. However, it was a deceptive openness; the grounds were said to be crawling with Mages. The transparency was simply the King’s way of flaunting his security.
“Halt!”
The sentries at the gate crossed their polearms, blocking the path.
Bert rode up to the fence. A small window was set into the white stone pillar near the gate, serving as the checkpoint for the Mage on duty. Bert passed the papers through the slot.
The Mage scrutinized the documents before pressing a hand against the parchment. A soft glow emanated from the ink.
“Everything is in order. Welcome to Ionad.”
With a signal from the Mage, the soldiers pulled back their weapons.
“Welcome, Your Excellency!”
The guards snapped into a formal salute. Though no hand touched them, the massive iron gates swung open on their own. Bert turned his mount and led the procession inside.
The layout followed the traditional split between the Outer and Inner Palaces.
Because Ionad sat in the heart of a bustling city, a massive garden served as a buffer to keep the Royal Family’s private lives hidden. The grounds were so expansive that walking was impractical; even within the walls, carriages were the primary mode of transport.
The Inner Palace was reserved for royalty and their guests, while the Outer Palace housed the machinery of the state. The administrative offices were tucked away at the very edge of the inner grounds.
The residence assigned to Yuls was located deep within the Inner Palace. This eastern estate had once belonged to his father during his time as a prince, and it remained largely unchanged.
The fabrics and drapes were new, but the furniture was the same set his father had used. Others had occupied the space before him, but they were long-dead figures of no consequence.
Since people project their own meaning onto objects, Yuls viewed the furniture only through the lens of his father’s memory. It was significant, but not in a way that brought him any peace.
The Duke stepped down in front of the manor. Bert, Adi, and the staff followed suit. The lower servants and the driver headed toward the stables on the edge of the property.
Joel, who had gone ahead to organize the palace staff and the Escort Knight Division, was waiting at the entrance to receive them.
“Welcome, Your Excellency,” Joel said, though a shadow of confusion touched his features.
Dimitri caught the look and whispered, “Is there a problem?”
Joel nodded and leaned in to murmur something. Dimitri’s face instantly clouded with tension.
“Your Excellency,” Dimitri called out to Yuls. “You have a visitor.”
Yuls’s eyes sharpened. A visitor. Very few people would seek him out here. He gave a curt nod of acknowledgment and entered the house, his entourage close behind.
“Where are they?” Yuls asked as he took the stairs.
“Waiting in the second-floor drawing room,” Joel answered.
Yuls moved with purpose, heading straight for the corner room at the top of the landing. The attendants reached the doors first, swinging them open to reveal the occupant.
A figure stood bathed in the bright light of the room. The silhouette was blurred by the glare, but a voice soon cut through the silence. “Yuls.”
“Claude.”
“The one and only.”
Claude stepped forward, arms open for a friendly greeting, but he froze the moment he saw the knight standing in Yuls’s shadow.
“Well, look at this.”
He could never forget that specific shade of blonde or those features.
“So, you didn’t die after all?”
He looked at the knight, then thought of the Count who had discarded his own flesh and blood that day.
“Adrina Grimaldi.”
Claude let out a dark, mocking laugh at the irony of the family reunion. Adi went rigid. Yuls looked blindsided by Claude’s sudden insight. But of everyone in the room, the one who looked utterly devastated was Dimitri.
“…Grimaldi?” he breathed.
