Chapter 90
The orchestral arrangements were so powerful they seemed to vibrate within the bone of the skull. To amplify the music, the musicians were positioned along a wall beneath a specialized dome, while the crowd pressed in around the perimeter. Those who preferred observation to dancing occupied the vantage points of the second-floor balcony.
The elder guests, long past the age of romantic pursuits, typically gathered in these higher reaches to debate politics. In any other circumstance, Spencer Grimaldi would have been among them, weaving through the crowd to solidify his alliances. Tonight, however, he remained below.
“They make quite a striking pair, don’t they?”
Claude’s remark was a clear bait for a reaction, but Adi merely offered a neutral glance and a shallow nod before returning her attention to the floor.
Her focus remained fixed on Yuls. Even as he moved through the steps of the dance with Lea Lintu, the Duke’s eyes drifted toward Adi at every possible moment. He seemed entirely detached from his actual partner. Claude, finding her lack of jealousy or agitation tedious, let his expression slip into one of visible boredom.
The Prince’s malaise was interrupted when a guest approached him with a respectful greeting. Seizing the opportunity to escape the conversation, Claude feigned a warm reunion, slinging an arm over the man’s shoulder and claiming it had been far too long.
Watching them depart, Spencer marveled at the Prince’s level of exhaustion; Claude clearly had no idea who the man was, yet he fled with him anyway. Spencer considered shouting out the stranger’s name to assist, but the Prince vanished too quickly.
Left alone with Adi, Spencer turned his attention to her.
Her gaze was just as piercing as Julius Woodpecker’s. Perhaps she was bothered that Lea Lintu had secured the opening dance. It had been obvious that Yuls wanted to decline, but Marchioness Connolly had been relentless. She had pleaded for him to honor her ward’s debut, citing their new family ties as a reason to show her some public respect.
Yuls had been on the verge of a polite refusal when Claude intervened.
“Of course he will,” the Prince had declared, sealing the Duke’s fate. He had then taken Lea’s hand himself, pressing a kiss to her knuckles while promising he would claim the very next dance after Yuls was finished.
The Marchioness had hidden her smile behind a fan, laughing at the gesture. Though her eyes betrayed a sharp suspicion regarding the Prince’s true motives, no one dared to voice their doubts.
Spencer could see now that the connection between the Duke and his daughter was far from simple. While the specifics remained elusive, it was clear the gossip floating through Pallesa Palace wasn’t entirely baseless, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.
Adi had been spirited away to Woodpecker’s lands by the Duke himself. If the man had gone so far as to grant her a name and a title…
Spencer studied the young woman standing beside him.
In his memories, Adrina had always been a ragged, unkempt thing. It was the natural result of neglect within the estate. He hadn’t truly looked at her until the day they buried Adrian. With her long hair, she had been the mirror image of the boy in the coffin. He had wondered then if she would look exactly like him if she simply stopped smiling.
The Marchioness had once remarked that the boy had kept his smile until his final breath. On that day, Spencer had watched the girl’s blonde hair caught in the wind and decided that it was a waste she hadn’t been born a male. That was when he placed his bet. He began calling her Adrian.
She had been sharper than he anticipated, realizing immediately what he required of her. She had proven her worth ten times over, as her presence ensured that no one suspected Adrian had actually perished.
But seeing her now, dressed in finery.
He was struck by the likeness to his wife. Long ago, she had been celebrated as the North’s most stunning jewel. Now, she was a hollow shell of herself, plagued by anxiety and the scent of dried herbs, but she had once possessed a smile that could light a room—just like the one on the girl before him.
“It appears the Lintu girl has some rather grand ambitions,” Spencer remarked.
“Climbing the social ladder through a wedding? That’s a common enough fantasy,” Adi replied, turning to look at him.
“Even with the Connollys backing her, she lacks a proper dowry. She lost a mine in the transition, so she likely views this marriage as her only path to security.”
“I hadn’t realized you took such a keen interest in the affairs of others,” Adi noted, her eyes drifting back to the dancers. She knew from her own experience that dancing required a certain physical intimacy. The heat of a hand on one’s waist, the proximity of bodies—it created a disorienting sensation. She suspected Lea Lintu was currently feeling exactly what she had felt the previous evening.
Spencer noticed her scowl and spoke her name. “Adi.”
Her brow furrowed even deeper at the sound. “Is that what you’re calling me now?”
“Would you prefer Adrina?”
“Call me whatever you like,” she said, her voice dripping with apathy. To Spencer, even ‘Adrina’ felt foreign now. He had spent so long thinking of her as Adrian.
“Very well, Adrina.”
If his original scheme had held, she would still be using that name. His goals hadn’t shifted, and as long as she breathed, he still had cards to play. Her alliance with the Duke was a complication, certainly.
“You managed a very impressive escape,” he said.
“Weren’t you trying to have me killed?”
“That was never my intention.”
He didn’t mean there weren’t alternatives.
“I only wanted you to come with me. If you hadn’t been so defiant, things would have remained peaceful.”
“I would have been a dead woman the moment I stepped foot back in Grimaldi,” Adi countered. She looked at him with a sharp, knowing smile. “And you know that’s exactly what you intended, don’t you?”
The resemblance to his wife was uncanny, yet the cunning in her smile was entirely his own. It was a predatory expression. Adrian had taken after his mother in every way, but now, Spencer found it hard to truly remember either of them.
“You’re only saying this because all your other heirs are gone.”
“You make it sound as though I planned their deaths.”
Adi stared at him, as if searching for a punchline that wasn’t there. Then, she spoke a single word: “Spencer.”
The use of his given name struck him like a physical blow. It was one of the few times in his life he felt genuine shock. He assumed he must have misheard her.
“…What did you call me?”
“Is it inaccurate to say you intended for things to turn out this way?”
Her eyes were like ice. Spencer gave a short, incredulous laugh. He had heard that people laughed when they were beyond stunned, but he hadn’t expected to feel it himself. “Did you actually just address me by my name?”
“Is there a problem?” she asked, her expression completely untroubled. “I didn’t think it was disrespectful. Surely we’ve known each other long enough to be on a first-name basis?”
They had spent the last hour pretending they had just met for the first time. Her boldness was staggering, and Spencer couldn’t help but see himself in her audacity. He found himself wishing once again that she had truly been his son.
“I don’t think that level of familiarity is appropriate,” he replied.
“Would you be more comfortable if I used your formal title, Count?”
Spencer studied her closely. This wasn’t the girl he remembered. The child he knew would never have dared this. Had she been masking this side of herself all along? And if so, why drop the act now? What had changed her circumstances so drastically?
“I assume you aren’t looking for me to call you ‘Father.’ There are too many witnesses for that.”
She spoke of witnesses, but her tone made it clear she had no desire to acknowledge the bond regardless of who was watching. Spencer let out another laugh.
“You’ve become quite entertaining.”
“I’m not trying to be.”
He realized she was unrecognizable from the girl he had first encountered. She had been a wild thing then, but education had seemingly tamed her into something more like Adrian. He hadn’t seen a problem with that; he preferred people who were easy to manage.
But perhaps the docility had been a performance. Looking back, her eyes had never matched Adrian’s. He wondered why he had ever convinced himself she was under his thumb. She had played the part of the obedient child perfectly.
“What happened to the body you had ready?” Adi asked suddenly.
“How did I miss that?” Spencer muttered.
“You’re the one who lost the thread of the situation,” Adi said. “You think I could have just conjured a lookalike corpse out of thin air without any preparation? You’ve lost your edge if you didn’t see that coming.”
“You’ve grown incredibly arrogant.”
“I was always this way. You just didn’t notice, and you never bothered to check.”
Spencer spent more time in the capital than at his own estate. He relied on paperwork to tell him the state of his lands, but he was blind to the reality of what happened within his own walls. Adi had once hoped that his distance made him better than the others at the estate.
She had been wrong.
“You let your wife handle everything while you played at politics in Ionad. You only pretended to care about the estate after the fact, leaving me in Lev’s hands. You didn’t give me a second thought after shipping me off to the palace. When exactly would you have had the time to actually learn anything about me?”
“You certainly have a lot of grievances to air,” Spencer noted.
Adi gave him a look of pure disbelief, as if he were asking the most ridiculous question in the world.
“Why didn’t you speak up like this before?” he asked.
“Because I still held onto the delusion that you saw me as your child.”
“I still do.”
“No. You see me as a bloodline. Not a person—just a tool shaped like a doll.”
“So this is your grand rebellion?”
Adi laughed at that, a sound that echoed his wife’s voice rather than his own. For a moment, Spencer felt as though a ghost from a forgotten past was standing right in front of him.
“Just wait and see, Spencer.”
As she spoke, Yuls appeared behind her. He slid an arm around her waist, addressing her as “Adrina,” though his eyes remained locked on Spencer. The Count’s expression soured as he watched the Duke’s possessive gesture.
“May I have this dance?” Yuls asked.
Adi didn’t use words; she simply gave a soft smile and a nod. Spencer watched in stunned silence as they moved toward the center of the ballroom. A sharp exhale escaped him. A moment later, Lea Lintu approached, her face pale and tight.
“Your Excellency.”
“Lea.”
“I can’t seem to find Prince Claude,” she said, her voice strained.
Spencer glanced up and spotted Claude holding court on the balcony. He looked back at Lea and offered a thin smile. She followed his gaze, looking toward the stairs with an expression of deep hesitation.
“He looks occupied,” Spencer said. “It might be best if you returned to the Marchioness for now.”
He excused himself, realizing Lea was no longer of any use to him.
Adrina and the Duke. He couldn’t fathom Woodpecker’s endgame, but it was clear they were both keeping him at arm’s length.
But why? What was the goal?
His standing with the Duke had always been neutral—neither friendly nor hostile. As Spencer reached the base of the stairs leading to the Prince, a slow, lopsided smile spread across his face.
Duke Woodpecker.
“This could actually be interesting,” he murmured.
