Chapter 86
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Claude maintained a steady gaze on Adi, his expression painted with pure astonishment. He found it difficult to fathom how she had executed such a perfect charade. Looking at her now, simply allowing her hair to grow slightly was sufficient to reveal her womanhood. Or perhaps that wasn’t it; her features hadn’t actually undergone a dramatic transformation.
Still, the truth was undeniable.
She was a woman in every sense. Even her attire as a knight remained largely unchanged, lacking any feminine tailoring or adjustments to highlight her figure.
Despite the lack of stylistic cues, her femininity felt overwhelmingly apparent. It wasn’t merely the length of her hair causing this shift in perception, but something else—an intangible quality he couldn’t quite define.
“What is the status of Count Grimaldi?”
The question from Yuls forced Claude to finally blink and look away from Adi.
“He hasn’t arrived.”
“I am inquiring about his expected arrival time.”
“It likely won’t be for another week. He departed some time ago, however.”
Travel from the northern reaches to Ionad was a grueling ordeal compared to the flat southern plains. Navigating the mountain passes meant that even an early start often resulted in delays, a fact most northern aristocrats factored into their schedules.
“I must admit, your early arrival caught me off guard.”
Woodpecker had beaten everyone to the capital. Considering summer was the busiest time for a lord to manage his lands, Claude found the Duke’s presence puzzling. He had analyzed the move from every perspective but remained stumped. He lacked a reliable inner circle to consult; his only asset was that treacherous snake from the North.
“You’ve never had a fondness for Ionad. Usually, you stay for the absolute minimum duration of the social calendar. Why the change of heart?”
Claude recognized the urgent need to establish his own power base, ideally by aligning with influential figures. He needed someone with enough weight to keep the Grimaldi family at bay. Marchioness Connolly was useless for such purposes. He required a marquis or another duke, yet the options were nearly non-existent.
“I cannot say,” Yuls replied simply. “I merely felt a compulsion to be here.”
A compulsion. Claude suspected that motivation wore a knight’s uniform.
His eyes wandered back to Adi.
Spencer Grimaldi had surely been convinced that the body he found was his daughter’s, at least initially. While Claude had been stunned by the discovery that Adi was female, he now realized Yuls had likely orchestrated the deception using a decoy corpse because he was already privy to her secret.
“Lower your eyes. She belongs to me,” Yuls stated firmly.
Claude returned his focus to the Duke. He wondered what Julius Woodpecker was actually playing at, but decided that as long as their interests aligned, the details were irrelevant. If the Duke aided his ascent to the throne, Claude would tolerate his eccentricities—for the time being.
“It makes sense. You wouldn’t keep a man so close to your person.”
“One can never be certain,” Yuls countered.
Originally, gender hadn’t mattered to the Duke. Had she been male, Yuls likely would have exploited her talents before discarding her. However, her true identity as a woman had turned the situation entirely in his favor.
“When did you discover the truth?”
“A considerable time ago.”
Claude wondered if she had confessed or been caught. Given her personality, the latter seemed more probable. The more he dwelled on it, the more his thoughts tangled, so he eventually gave up and leaned back into his chair.
“The Count’s face will be a sight to behold when he learns the truth.”
Claude let out a short laugh, which drew Adi’s attention. Yuls looked at her briefly before meeting Claude’s eyes again.
“That is a strange comment. I was under the impression you and the Count were allies.”
“It was more of a forced arrangement. I’ve learned that compelling people against their will is a poor strategy.”
“A late realization, isn’t it?”
Claude felt the weight of his past mistakes. He understood now that coercion only fostered deep-seated hatred. Securing genuine loyalty was a far more effective path. If nothing else, Spencer Grimaldi had provided a harsh education in power dynamics.
“I require your assistance, Yuls.”
He needed to neutralize the Count or prevent his arrival in Ionad, but the man was already en route—invited by Claude himself.
“We are family, after all.”
“What sort of aid are you looking for?”
Claude glanced pointedly at Adi, signaling that their conversation required privacy. Yuls called her name.
“Adi.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Give us five minutes.”
“Make it ten,” Claude corrected. “Return in ten minutes.”
Adi acknowledged the request and exited the room. Even with her gone, Claude remained silent for a moment, perhaps wary of eavesdroppers, though the palace walls were thick enough to ensure total privacy once the doors were shut.
“Do you intend to sit in silence for the full ten minutes?”
Claude finally spoke. “I must sever my ties with Count Grimaldi.”
“Did you not understand the nature of the man when you allied with him?”
“I knew, but his depravity exceeds my worst assumptions.”
The Crown’s recent maneuvers were troubling. Claude had thought the Count was a powerful card to hold, but he had mistakenly picked a joker.
“I never suspected he would fake his daughter’s death and raise her as a son in secret. Not after I practically begged him to let me have her.”
The Count had claimed she was dead, yet here the truth was. Yuls frowned at the mention of Claude’s past interest in her. Whatever had happened before was irrelevant; Adrina was his knight now.
“She is not for you to take,” Yuls said.
Claude watched him quietly. He wasn’t trying to claim her; he was simply exhausted by the Grimaldi family’s shadow. He wanted to be done with all of them.
“Is it wise to keep her so close? If the Count finds out, there will be consequences.”
“I am not harboring Adrina Grimaldi. I am employing Adrina Dean.”
“You gave her Bert’s name?”
“Bert made the offer, and she accepted it.”
“The Count will find that insulting,” Claude noted.
Spencer Grimaldi might project an air of nobility, but he was ruthless toward those he deemed inferior. Bert was a legendary knight, but his commoner roots made him an outcast in the Count’s eyes. This explained why the Count had never sought a connection with a man of Bert’s caliber.
“Stop stalling,” Yuls said. “You sent her out for a reason.”
“She is still a Grimaldi by birth. You cannot be sure she won’t leak information to them.”
“She won’t.”
“Blood is a powerful bond, Yuls. Using a different name doesn’t change her lineage. I cannot trust her.”
Claude’s distrust was rooted in the Count’s history. “The Count murdered Luigi. He even fabricated Adrina’s death and displayed a severed head to sell the lie. Marchioness Connolly was completely unaware of his involvement when they met.”
“They had a meeting?”
“The incident with Luigi occurred during their encounter.”
The Count had framed his own child for the crime. Claude couldn’t fathom the logic behind such extreme measures, especially since it meant losing his daughter to the shadows.
“Doesn’t his ruthlessness benefit you? It clears your path to the throne,” Yuls pointed out.
“It means he will kill me too if I fail to meet his standards.”
“You are his only viable option. Sasha is a child, and Luigi is gone. The other candidates lack the status or influence to be useful to him.”
“He could turn to you.”
“My mother’s lineage makes that impossible. The Count is obsessed with pure bloodlines.”
Claude fell silent, knowing that much was true.
“The Count is a murderer,” Yuls observed. He wondered if Claude was only now grasping the depth of the man’s cruelty. Yet, the Count had always been strangely indulgent toward Claude, perhaps more so than toward his own children. Whether it was lingering affection from Claude’s childhood or something darker remained unclear.
“The Count was responsible for your parents’ deaths as well, wasn’t he?”
Claude was desperate to escape the man’s grip, not like a rebellious child, but like a man fleeing for his life.
“He killed my father. My mother chose her own end,” Yuls corrected. “And it was the Crown, not the Grimaldis, that pushed her to it.”
To Yuls, Claude’s panic seemed excessive. He believed the Prince would find a way through, and if not, it wasn’t his problem.
“Yuls,” Claude pleaded. “Help me.”
The Prince realized too late that he had walked into a trap. Undoing his alliance with the Count would be nearly impossible unless the man found a new puppet. But if that happened, Claude knew he wouldn’t be allowed to live. The Count had a history of erasing princes without leaving a single clue behind.
“You are my only ally,” Claude said, reaching out to grab Yuls’s arm.
He was terrified of dying.
