Chapter 44
The orchestra’s music drowned out the conversation at the table. Similarly, any discussion between the knights standing against the wall wouldn’t reach the table. Everyone knew this, yet no one took the initiative to speak.
People brought in food in sequence. The dishes covering the table were more than enough for three people. Besides these, individual meals were prepared separately. They had clearly investigated and catered to personal preferences beforehand. The sounds of cutlery and conversation were buried beneath the music.
“Hard to see your face.”
Lev’s words would be the same. Though inaudible at the table, they could be heard here. He’s insisting on talking after all. Adi frowned.
They weren’t alone here. The Crown Prince’s guard stood beside them. Whatever was said, this conversation would all be relayed to the Crown Prince. That meant words should be filtered and abbreviated.
Of course, the best thing would be—
“Adrian.”
“Shut up, don’t talk to me.”
—to not converse at all. They hadn’t wanted to talk in the first place.
“No matter what you do, the plans won’t change.”
Please just shut up. Wouldn’t it be better to keep quiet rather than speaking of plans that would reach the Crown Prince’s ears? He couldn’t be so thoughtless. If he was still speaking like this, it must be deliberate.
Or perhaps he was trying not to miss this moment because Adi was avoiding him. Either way, it was an unwelcome situation for Adi.
“Count His Grace will ultimately do as he first said.”
“That’s uncertain, Lev.”
The words came out harsh to someone deliberately making others uncomfortable. Though they had disliked him originally, Adi hated Lev even more after the Count’s plan.
“Lev.”
“Yes?”
“I heard you’re going to duel my friend?”
“Friend…”
His tone suggested doubt that someone like you could have friends. Of course, Adrina had no friends. Who would dare befriend a cursed thing in that place? But here it was different.
No, even here there were none, but Roy was different.
“How close are you?”
“My only friend.”
“I thought I was your only friend.”
“Were we friends?”
“Right, we’ll become something else.”
“…”
An interesting expression showed beside them. As if guessing what kind of relationship it would be. Or maybe not. He was Jid, and they were Grimaldi—perhaps he only thought of it as the relationship between a loyal servant and master.
But some inexplicable inferiority complex, knowing how the Count would use them in the future, made them take it negatively. They hated receiving such looks, hated thinking about it.
When Adi gave no response, Lev spoke again.
“There aren’t many skilled people here.”
“That’s quite rude.”
“Palesa’s glory is in the past. Ionad is better now.”
They could see nodding beside them. That one seemed to be from Ionad too. Though Adi hadn’t served as a page in Palesa, if forced to choose between the two, it would naturally be Palesa.
“Of course, you won’t be able to come to Ionad.”
“Palesa is good enough, Lev.”
“Palesa is history. It’s fallen behind now.”
“Is that so? Let’s see in your duel then.”
“I heard the most skilled person in Palesa is Ilyich. I’ve won against him in a duel.”
He spoke as if describing an effortless genius. That genius seemed uninterested in dueling itself. If Adi truly had the power to employ someone, they would have hired someone like Ilyich.
What did it matter whether one was noble or not? If anything, reaching that position from such status was more impressive.
“The past is the past. Things might be different now.”
“Most people don’t change. They maintain similar states. More time doesn’t make them more exceptional.”
“…I hope I’m imagining that was directed at me.”
“That’s not what I meant, Adrian.”
“Don’t call me that way.”
Bile rises whenever someone who knows the past calls them that way. The Count and others were fine. That was strange. The resistance to Lev, the disgust at having to be together, was unbearable. Probably because they knew how he viewed them.
“You won’t get what you want.”
Gazes carry more power than expected. Even now, Adi wanted to flee from Lev’s stare at their face.
“Do you know what I want?”
“Oh, I know very well.”
But not yet.
“That’s why you won’t get what you want.”
It mustn’t be revealed.
“And you don’t even have the guts to accept the curse.”
“…That curse is over.”
Adi smirked. And for the first time, they turned to look at Lev.
Even Lev Jid, called Grimaldi’s genius swordsman, seemed unable to escape those bonds. Everyone from Grimaldi feared and dreaded the curse. But they pretend to hate it to hide those emotions.
Lev didn’t do that.
In the past.
“Is that really so?”
“…”
More precisely, he pretended not to pretend.
“Lev Jid.”
To reach that position.
“That’s why you failed.”
Jid always made the best choices. Among what could be done in that family. Just as his mother became a maid and his father became a laborer hunting witches, Lev too pretended not to fear the curse to stay by Adi’s side, and further, to infiltrate the deepest parts of Grimaldi.
Adrina, he had called. It was a childhood story.
“Back then, you.”
Also stayed beside Adrian. Picked up swords with him, rode horses with him.
“Should have protected Adi’s side instead of going to Ionad.”
“You speak as if I killed Adi.”
But in the end, Adrian died, and a grave was made for Adrina. Only Lev escaped that pit.
“You killed Adi, Adrian.”
“Yes, it’s my fault.”
Adi acknowledged it. Adrian’s death was their fault.
“You’re the same.”
Adi doesn’t blame Lev Jid. They merely detest and hate him. After all, the twin curse started from Lev.
Perhaps they just wanted to blame someone. Lev might have just happened to be there. But Adi, Adrina, could not forgive Lev.
“You could die by my hands too, Lev.”
“That would be quite possible if you become Count.”
Both Adi and Lev knew they couldn’t become Count. Stabbing others’ vulnerabilities while pretending to be nice and considerate—how typical of someone from Grimaldi territory.
Adi smirked. At that moment, the music stopped.
Adi’s expression hardened. The laugh and the silence coincided, making them wonder if they’d done something wrong, but seeing Claude raise his hand suggested otherwise.
“Julius.”
The Crown Prince said.
“What is it, Claude?”
“Lend me your guard knight for a moment.”
“…”
No one understood what this meant. Only Claude was looking at the guard knights standing against the wall with an amused expression.
Yuls said while tilting his wine glass:
“Your guard knight must not be very skilled.”
“My guard knight is skilled. Just not as beautiful as yours.”
Like talking about objects. Amidst the strange silence came the sound of cutlery scraping against a plate. It was Count Grimaldi. He cut the meat on his plate with an unconcerned expression. His serene face seemed unbothered by his son being the subject of conversation.
Yuls smirked.
“Indeed. Not much to look at. Mine is pretty though.”
“Yes. A tempting beauty.”
“Even if you’re tempted, nothing can be done. They’re mine.”
“Not yours forever. They were mine first. Since I made them a knight.”
As if you made them a knight when you only saw their face after they came to Palesa.
“Just borrowing for a bit. I’ll return them in an hour.”
At Claude’s seemingly pleading attitude, Yuls looked at Adi. Their expression was unchanged. Just like the Count’s. Yuls turned his gaze to the Count. The Count, wearing the most peaceful expression here, was enjoying his meal as if the uncomfortable situation didn’t affect his appetite.
“Very well.”
Or perhaps he was pretending.
“Exactly one hour.”
What was the Count thinking, and what was Claude thinking?
“Send them back within that time.”
If they asked Adrian what conversation took place, would Adrian answer truthfully?
It couldn’t be certain.
