Chapter 60
Adi followed where Yuls led. They had assumed the destination would be the reception room. However, Yuls led Adi past it to his bedroom. Joel walked quickly ahead to open the door.
Yuls sat Adi on the bed. When Adi tried to stand, Yuls pressed their shoulder. Unfortunately, it was one of the places the Count had struck.
“Ah!”
A groan they’d been suppressing finally escaped. Seeing Adi clutch their shoulder in pain, Yuls froze for a moment. He stepped back and stood still. He’d thought only their face was injured, but it seemed their body had been struck too. Just where had he found places to hit.
Though knights were sturdy, that didn’t mean they couldn’t feel pain. Yuls, who had been scratching his palm with his nails, finally clenched his fist.
“Treat them, Joel.”
“I’m fine.”
“Adrian.”
His tone said to silently obey. Adi shook their head.
“If it heals overnight, the Count will hate it more.”
Yuls narrowed his eyes, then sighed. Perhaps thinking the words weren’t wrong, he told Joel, who stood awkwardly, “Bring medicine.” Joel left quickly, as if he’d been waiting for this.
Yuls then asked:
“Was the Count always this violent?”
Adi raised their gaze. Seeing that face made him sigh involuntarily. It had already started swelling. The pain seemed to transfer just by looking. It might have hurt less to be injured himself.
“No.”
Adi answered.
“This is rightfully my fault.”
“What did you do wrong?”
“I taught Roy Gaillard the family swordsmanship.”
“…”
“And with it, Lev Jid lost.”
Seeing them smile while saying this, Yuls had no words left. This all seemed to be Adrian’s plan. So Adi had known. Known that the Count would do this to them.
“Only Grimaldi’s sword can counter Grimaldi.”
They had done it knowing.
Why? For what purpose? Something felt off. The constant sense of disconnect he felt whenever he saw Adrian. Just what was it for? His thoughts wouldn’t settle. Just then, Joel arrived with the medicine box, panting as if he’d run.
Yuls said:
“Take it off.”
“…Pardon?”
“I understand refusing healing magic. But you need medicine applied. You were beaten all over your upper body—you can’t be fine.”
They frowned even at just a light touch on their shoulder. He couldn’t understand how they hadn’t made a sound earlier. Were they insensitive to pain? But that didn’t seem right when they winced at the slightest touch.
“Really, I’m fine.”
With a face that seemed to be crying out in pain, such words weren’t convincing.
“Don’t be difficult.”
“…Really. This much will heal if I wash it.”
Water wasn’t medicine—washing wouldn’t heal this. He couldn’t understand why they refused treatment being offered.
Healing mages were rare. Temples might refuse treatment for various reasons, or restrict it based on status—sometimes even refusing those of too high status according to temple demands—but mages could always be kept close.
They must know how precious healing mages were, so were they against magic? They hadn’t shown such tendencies.
“Adrian.”
As Yuls spoke and stepped forward, Adi gripped the sheets with all their strength. Why? Something felt off about their wary gaze and pale face.
What was it?
“Really, I’m fine, Your Grace.”
Yuls’s gaze dropped. The sense of disconnect hadn’t come suddenly. It had been raising subtle questions all along. But he hadn’t thought it could be that. Who would think such a thing normally?
But once raised, the questions cascaded.
That face while refusing, the small frame so noticeable among the knights, the neat appearance he’d attributed to Northern habits, Count Grimaldi’s actions, the talk of their death, the Count’s refusal to send them to Ionad and Adi Grimaldi’s attempts to escape, and the wishes.
What was Adi Grimaldi’s wish? What made them so fixated on it? The number of wishes, saying they’d use them later. It seemed like preparing for something.
For what?
“Joel, leave us.”
Joel, who had been watching the situation, bowed and set down the medicine box before leaving.
Yuls looked down at Adi.
What had Adrian Grimaldi been preparing for? What were they thinking? What were they planning to use the wishes for? What was so important they’d save them?
“You know why the Count wants to take you back to Grimaldi?”
Adrian Grimaldi, who would pick wildflowers to give to their sister.
Adrina Grimaldi, said to have eyes like the Count’s. The sickly Adrian and the healthy Adrina. The dead Adrina and the living Adrian.
The Dog of Palesa.
“When they say you’ll die…”
Even as he considered it, it seemed absurd. It couldn’t be. Yuls smiled wryly. It couldn’t be, yet it seemed it could.
“Why didn’t I see it?”
He’d naturally thought his words about protection and escape were meant for Adrina. But it was Adrian who had been bedridden.
Right, someone in poor health couldn’t suddenly recover after years and join Palesa’s Second Knights Division. His hypothesis made more sense.
“Adi.”
The person before him wasn’t Adrian Grimaldi.
“Take it off.”
“…Your Grace.”
“Is there a reason you can’t? We’re both men.”
The “Adi” they spoke of wasn’t Adrina’s Adi but Adrian’s.
“Hmm?”
Yuls’s gaze as he looked at them was gentle. As if about to unravel something, he continued in a soft voice:
“If you have an acceptable reason, you don’t have to.”
Acceptable reason—what could there be? Adi thought quickly but nothing came to mind. Whatever reason they gave, the Duke wouldn’t accept it. But they couldn’t just stall for time either. The Duke wanted an answer. What answer? What answer did he want?
“Adrian.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Yuls looked down at Adi and placed a hand on their cheek. Though swollen, it was smooth. Too smooth. Even men who grew little facial hair would have some stubble by evening. They couldn’t have such a smooth cheek and chin.
Yuls’s hand slowly moved down. Undoing the cravat at their neck, the shirt opened. The visible collarbone was bluish.
Collarbones break easily.
Clicking his tongue, Yuls placed his hand on Adi’s neck. He felt the slender neck with its underdeveloped Adam’s apple.
“Your Grace?”
When they spoke, he barely felt movement. Then placing a hand on his own neck, Yuls felt the difference.
Why hadn’t he noticed?
Yuls guided Adi’s hand. So small.
Really, why hadn’t he noticed?
Even accounting for height, the lines were different. Had the nickname “Dog of Palesa” blinded him?
Though the hands were rough, there was a difference in length. Looking again, the little finger was notably short. Such hands would have struggled to grip a sword. How much effort had it taken to reach their current skill? But the biggest question was:
“Adrian.”
Just when had it begun?
“Adrina.”
How long had they lived under their sibling’s name?
“Adrina Grimaldi.”
Their eyes, bloodshot from burst vessels, wavered. The Adi he’d promised to protect and help escape seemed to be not Adrina Grimaldi but Adrian Grimaldi. The one in that grave wasn’t Adrina but Adrian.
He remembered simultaneously the Count looking disapprovingly at the long hair and swinging the scabbard at Adi who took the beating without resistance. Did the dead sibling know? How their sister was being treated?
“Adi.”
Adi’s words about dying if they returned to Grimaldi, about maybe not becoming Count. It all meant one thing.
“Yes.”
Yuls held Adi’s cheek and kissed them. Their split lip stung anew. He tasted blood. Yuls too must have tasted it, as he pulled back. Red hair, red eyelashes, red eyes. And lips stained red with blood.
The same curse-breaking act as always.
“It was you.”
What was different was the emotion in the Duke’s eyes. Looking at Adi, the Duke smiled. Its meaning was unclear.
Lilina
Ohmgod he finally found out AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH