Chapter 42
Adi looked at the clothes provided by the Duke with apparent discomfort. Roy, standing beside Adi, had a different expression—not one of discomfort.
Early that morning, Joel had brought the clothes to the knights’ quarters. Bert, who had been sleeping, asked through a yawn what clothes they were and if there were any for him. Joel told Bert, “Sir, you won’t need these.” For good reason.
“These are Woodpecker ducal knight’s uniforms.”
“Wow, can we really wear these?”
“Yes, please wear them until the festival. With various noble houses gathering at Palesa, it would be confusing if everyone wore the same Second Brigade uniform.”
“Last year it was just Palesa knight uniforms.”
The black attire with crimson cape was a symbol of the South. The cold red, identical to the red head of the southern woodpecker, often felt like blood. Indeed, countless amounts of blood had stained those capes. Though what Roy had seen wasn’t the black uniform but silver metal armor with a red cape.
“Roy seems to like it?”
“Like it? I love it. Do the night watchmen wear the same uniform?”
“The emblem is different, but the outfit is the same.”
At Bert’s words, Roy touched the metal emblem on his chest. It was shaped like bird wings embracing a heart—given only to the Duke’s guards.
“Are you aiming to be a night watchman?”
“They were the most active in that battle. I received help from them too.”
“A sad affair for House Gaillard.”
“I’ll rebuild it myself.”
Bert patted Roy’s back consolingly as he spoke in his casual tone.
“Adi, you don’t like it?”
“No. I always thought it looked impressive when Bert wore it.”
Black attire. The last time they’d worn it was when Adrian was buried. The northern forests were so dense that people in such clothes could go unnoticed. Knights weren’t assassins though. They always proudly showed themselves.
Perhaps black clothes stood out in the southern environment. Wasn’t it said that endless plains stretched beyond the sessile oak forest? Adi touched the black clothes that carried the meaning of death. The texture was softer than expected. They said:
“It’s just that my father will be there too.”
“Don’t like wearing Woodpecker knight’s uniform while bearing the Grimaldi name?”
“Wearing the uniform itself isn’t the issue. But if there’s hidden meaning behind it…”
Though they said this, who among those present wouldn’t know? That this was meant to be shown.
“I’ll be scolded by Father.”
The Duke’s intentions were unclear.
“Scolded? What a cute way to put it.”
Bert said.
“If you get thrown out, come to the South. Woodpecker will take you in.”
“Then I won’t hesitate to accept.”
❖ ❖ ❖
They got half a day off. Roy, who had grumbled about increased security at Palesa Palace making it difficult to go out, suggested a game of chess in the evening before immediately putting on the Woodpecker knight’s uniform.
Saying he would wear this outfit from tomorrow, Roy spoke about how amazing the Woodpecker knights were when he was young.
These were matters of a previous generation unknown to them. Events from twenty years ago might remain vivid for some, while feeling like ancient history to others.
“Back then, I really thought the world was ending. The South had never been so devastated since Dalkatir’s existence. The acrid smell of burning people filled the air, and we didn’t have the strength to wash the blood from the streets. There wasn’t even drinking water—we’d stick out our tongues when it rained to catch drops.”
The stories of the blood-soaked southern Dalkatir weren’t familiar to Adi. The blood-soaked North was.
“It suits you.”
Grimaldi was the beginning.
“It would suit you too.”
So they deserved to be cursed.
“You’re blonde after all.”
The cape, closer to blood-red than crimson, brought back memories of the past.
Spencer Grimaldi never returned to the mansion with blood on him. There was only a faint metallic smell. Learning that was the smell of blood came from Adrian’s hemoptysis. Before they were even ten years old.
“This outfit will really stand out.”
“You think? I feel it would blend in more.”
“It’s black. It’ll stand out except at night.”
“In the North, with mostly coniferous trees, black doesn’t stand out. Especially in the forest.”
“The forests I know are green.”
“I heard. Fig trees and such make up large forests there.”
Adi didn’t know exactly what sessile oaks looked like. They only had vague fantasies that they must be much more vibrant than the northern mountains.
“Woodpecker is more beautiful than Palesa.”
“Joel.”
“Sorry. The door was open.”
Adi and Roy showed unconcerned faces. It wasn’t a private room anyway, but a lounge. Joel commented that the uniform suited Roy well.
“I came about the schedule. Tomorrow’s luncheon. It’s been confirmed now. Since His Highness the Crown Prince tends to wake up late, it’s a late luncheon at 2 PM. If you’re tired from your reversed schedule, you could come to me…”
Joel was about to offer recovery magic, but Adi said they were fine before he could finish.
“I just woke up, but I’ll sleep again at night.”
“Ah, yes…”
This person isn’t very normal either, Joel thought. Well, it’s rare to see knights who are completely sane. People who train their bodies to the limit like that. Of course, he meant the knights at House Woodpecker—the knights here were somewhat different, but still not normal.
“Please come to the reception room by noon tomorrow.”
Joel said before scurrying out. He was cuter than expected. About the same height as Adrian before he died.
Though Adrian, with northern blood, probably wouldn’t have grown up as cute as Joel, something about his build reminded Adi of Adrian, making him feel like a younger brother. Perhaps noting the warmth in Adi’s gaze, Roy asked, “Why are you looking like that?”
“Like what?”
“No, you just seemed to be looking really fondly.”
“Did I?”
When Adi responded with apparent confusion, Roy sat at the table as if satisfied.
“So, want to play a game?”
“It’s not fun playing with you.”
Despite saying this, they readily pulled up a chair and sat at the table. Together they began arranging the pieces.
“Fun isn’t the point. This is all strategy. How important is strategy in battle?”
“I don’t know about others, but you’ll be easy to beat.”
“That’s fighting talk, isn’t it?”
“You’re easy to read. In real war, you should fight in ways your opponent doesn’t expect. Should I go first?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“And it’s better to fight at times your opponent doesn’t want.”
“That’s why some wars happen at night.”
“True. But the most important thing is something else.”
“What?”
“The first strike.”
Adi looked at the pieces they were moving. Come to think of it, Adi always started first. Opening paths, pretending to aim for one thing while picking off what they really wanted.
“…Is that how they teach at Grimaldi? First strike?”
“Not particularly. This is something I learned myself.”
“…”
“Or maybe not. I should consider the possibility that ancient sages already knew these things and recorded them in books, and I just think I learned it myself after reading them.”
Roy felt something odd watching Adi speak about how that possibility was actually more likely.
Though Roy had received noble education when young, he’d later lived as a dependent relative in various noble houses before finally entering his mother’s family as a godson, but even there they hadn’t focused much on education. They just raised him until adulthood. After that, Roy had to survive on his own strength.
That’s why Roy was somewhat different from other noble children who received proper education and family teachings.
But Adrian Grimaldi had that feeling too. Even if not well-liked, they should have been properly cared for.
“Besides, my father was rarely at the estate. He was mainly in Ionad. Before that, he was on the battlefield, so effectively, my mother was closer to being Grimaldi’s lord. She ruled most things. Until my… sibling died.”
“Losing someone is sad.”
Roy said. Adi knew there had been such events in his life too. But humans always think their own wounds are deeper.
“Especially if it’s your beloved child.”
She was like that too.
“She must have suffered greatly.”
“Yes.”
She must have loved. To the point where even the loved one wasn’t comfortable. If it had been them instead, she might have lived on without care. Because the magnitude of feelings toward children couldn’t be equal.
Sometimes I.
“She must have.”
Envy you who died.
And when I think about daring to envy you, I’m consumed by self-loathing and guilt.
Lilina
Poor Adi it’s not a sin to want to be loved 😭 you lived your childhood only having your twin who although lacking in health had everything a growing child should need it’s fine to want parental affection