Episode 18. Klumte
Seeing Adel sitting in front of Gray, who was slumped over his desk, Doran greeted her cheerfully too.
"Hello, Adel?!"
"Hello, Doran-nim."
His side was bundled with documents.
"By the way, whoa. What's wrong with Gray's hand? It's like a beehive."
Doran strode over, saw Gray's wound, and grinned brightly.
After nearly two years observing Doran, Adel now knew. That brightness masked delight, cheer, and glee.
Doran's shoulders, turning to place documents on his nearby desk, visibly shook with excitement—not just her imagination.
Gray lightly flicked Adel's forehead, stealing her gaze from Doran.
"Yeah. Some house's bee kept stinging the same spot."
"No way, such a clever bee exists? Guess I should offer it some honey."
Doran turned back to Gray and Adel, his pine-green eyes brimming with mischief. Gray lazily straightened his upper body.
"Wouldn't a clever bee pick and choose who gives it honey?"
"Ah-ha. So that's why you got stung so badly? Your honey was too low-quality?"
Gray's face crumpled.
"This bast…."
Adel clamped down her unwittingly rising lip corners. Seeing ever-leisurely Gray get serious made even her stoic lips twitch.
In that sense, Adel liked Doran. He knew best how to handle Gray, as far as she knew.
Of course, that's why Gray brought him from Hallock.
"Was Adel an insect? Likes honey?"
Doran asked as if he knew she'd made Gray's hand that way. Adel finally let slip a small laugh.
"I'll pass."
Gray fully turned to her, incredulous.
"Adel. Doran's funny? That's your taste in lame jokes?"
"Well, never been high-class."
Doran lit up.
"Knew Adel would like me."
One corner of Gray's mouth twitched.
"Such a leap?!"
Gray finally grabbed a bandage bundle from the desk and hurled it at Doran.
"Adel's a flower, not some crazy bee like you. Get lost from my flower, Doran."
Adel's lowered head finally split into a grin.
***
It was a sunset evening. The red world sank into deepening dusk.
The Valoneck ducal residence skewed relatively west of the capital center. Flat land without mountains or hills, it was just a peaceful outskirts.
At evening, amid the blazing red world, only the massive residence stood central-like. People found the sight enchanting. Thus, the residence was called Somi Palace, meaning "western rose."
Somi Palace. To the royals, frankly an irreverent nickname. A palace without the king residing.
Yet the duke's prestige was beyond the royals' easy reach. While royal lineages changed twice, the Valoneck dukes held the kingdom's top meritorious house seat.
Gray's gaze, toward the sunset outside, shifted to the duke's office window.
The residence formed a wide ㄷ-shape embracing a vast garden. From his office in the left wing, the duke's office window—left of the central building—was quite visible.
Gray resumed his earlier thoughts, before Adel entered with bandages.
Why no stuffiness?
In his father's office, he'd been trapped in a narrow space.
Rifling father's documents for fun, he heard a knock. Assuming the visitor would leave unanswered, they picked the lock instead. Until then, mere amusement.
Oh, an internal rebel?
Excited to check who, he hid in the corner. Then realized: Ah, don't I hate tight spots? Annoying.
Indeed, awareness tightened his lungs slowly.
So he planned to peek and leave. But seeing the intruder sneak cat-like, that vanished.
Adel?
He nearly scoffed in disbelief.
Afterward flowed naturally. Watching her antics wasn't short, yet narrow-space discomfort faded.
Gawking her bold acts—even hiking her skirt, baring near-all her bare legs—roused no revulsion.
Rather intriguing. Oh, needles there?
And when she leaped into his arms, Gray lost all sense of location.
Tight, stuffy crevice, yet no shortness of breath or chest squeeze. Rather, heart-pounding opposite: fuzzy anticipation.
Sting between thumb and index drew her deeper, willfully. Feels fluffy, soft, comfy.
Thus, back in his office, deep in thought.
Why no suffocation?
Why no goosebumps at bare woman's legs?
Just pretty legs?
Why Adel entered father's office, rifled desk and papers familiarly—later issues. Gray needed urgent grasp of this absurd change.
But nothing clear. Mind held only favorable afterimage of pale, slender woman's legs and fluffy, hug-more texture filling his arms.
Hmm. This feels oddly not-bad too.
Gray spoke, eyes fixed on that building's window.
"Doran."
"Yeah."
"Know Sunflower Ho's deckhand name?"
"Sunflower Ho? That routes mainly distant continents."
"So, do you?"
"No, man!"
"Find out."
"Got it."
"And Doran."
"Yeah."
"What lock can't a good lockpicker deckhand open?"
"Deckhand good at locks? Hm... Useful for finding shirking crew?"
"Probably?"
"Then obviously ship-incompatible locks?"
"Replace all our room locks with those."
Doran puzzled.
"Why?"
"My flower's got sticky fingers. Learned from a deckhand."
Doran's brow furrowed unexpectedly.
"Rifled ours?"
"Not that."
"How'd you know?"
"Just. Coincidence."
Doran pondered briefly.
"What? Leave Adel like that? She's seen your business docs maybe. Could again. Fire or silence her?"
Gray loosely stroked his chiseled jaw.
"That's why change room locks."
He looked from window to Doran. Doran looked absurd.
"And, even if seen, can't act."
"What? Identity exposed okay?"
Gray's brow twitched up then down.
"My identity? Do I have one?"
"Well…."
Doran shut his mouth unfinished.
Nanxi question.
Gray was Klumte, Klumte was Gray.
Northern merchant and nouveau riche, Klumte. Gray's hidden identity.
But that didn't make him not Gray Valoneck.
Issue: Could Adel steal room docs, infer Gray is Klumte? He'd never revealed, nor plans to….
Yet this nonchalance?
Seeing Doran's frown, Gray smirked.
"Cleanest win when weak-spotted?"
Doran answered, unrelaxed.
"Grab bigger weakness from them?"
Gray's favored playful method. As expected, Gray's lips innocently curved.
"Then shall we snag our bold flower's weakness."
Doran still uncomprehending.
"Bigger than you-as-Klumte exposed?"
Possible? For that ordinary woman?
Gray eyed the sunset-sinking building narrowly. Thought.
Black glasses, pink eyes, unexpected dexterity, irreverent hobby.
Maybe. Not society-shaking like his, but fatally so for her alone.
That suffices. Just for blackmail anyway.
"In that vein, background check, Doran. Adel Nora's birth to associates, thoroughly."
Then something caught Gray's eye. What he'd waited here this hour for.
Knox Gregory returning to Somi Palace post-court duties.
This distasteful scene glimpsed at some sunset.
One summer evening? Thinking Adel gone, Gray entered her office late.
Yet she lingered. At window, gazing that spot, Somi Palace's ornate iron gates.
Not hiding, Gray left. Climbing stairs to his office, saw entrance-view window.
Carriage entered blazing western rose garden, through gates she'd gazed endlessly.
At entrance, spat sturdy man: Knox.
Gray swallowed wry smile. Adel awaited Knox's return. Just that short descent-to-building scene.
"Hm."
Like then gazing sunset garden, Gray's mood sank now.
"And Doran."
"Yeah."
"Knox too."
"Knox? Orphanage kid?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Just."
Irksome.
Today too, straight nose from carriage caught eye. Sunset embers rippled along its outline to western horizon.
Always disgustingly high. Annoying.
Gray finally turned from window.
"Doran."
"Quit calling. Wearing out."
"You love it."
"Crazy."
"Knox handsome?"
Doran's snark froze. Soon absurd laugh.
"You nuts? Why care. Blind?"
"Answer."
"Hm. Knox? Yeah, handsome."
No likeable trait that punk.
"Than you?"
"Mad? Obviously! Me."
"Right."
Gray grinned brightly. Knox ugly for sure.
Thus, Gray cheerfully encouraged Doran.
"Cheer up, man."
"What the."
