The Duke said that father and son probably needed time to talk alone, and released Adi and the Count at the same time. Bert and Gavin followed them in, exchanging glances. Their eyes met Adi's, but they only smiled silently.
"Someone might be listening." However, even if not, such a cautious person as Spencer Grimaldi would not talk loudly in the room provided by the Duke.
On the way out of the reception area, they ran into Joel. He looked from Adi to the count and back, then with a smile offered to accompany them to the designated chambers. The Count refused.
“Adrian knows the location, so don’t bother—we’ll get there ourselves.”
- Yes, in that case, let me entrust this to Sir Adrian Grimaldi.
This was the most polite behavior from Joel that Adi had seen in his entire stay here. Usually he had a tendency to fuss, but today there was nothing like that. This seemed to be his style for formal occasions. If you looked at him like this, he looked like a real servant, as befits him.
Adi escorted the count to the appointed place. The servants were already there - apparently, the Duke's personal servant had warned them in advance.
- Let me take you to the bedroom.
Adi said. The Count followed him silently.
The painting above the head of the bed - the same one that hid the passage used by the killer - had been replaced with another. Adi went to the headboard and touched the frame. He pulled lightly, but she didn’t move. It looks like the passage has been securely sealed.
- A vulgar picture.
Said by Spencer Grimaldi. Surely these words will reach the Duke. But the Duke, without a doubt, will not raise an eyebrow. After all, this is not his mansion and not his castle - this is the Palace of Pales. And if the Count insulted someone, it was not the Duke, but the King.
- It's safe here. Sit as you please.
The Count silently looked down at Adi, and then said: “Unexpectedly.”
“I told you to get close to him, but I didn’t think that he would give Grimaldi the entire residence.”
Words with subtext. As if he was asking: have you really become that close? Adi herself had no intention of getting closer to the Duke. Quite the contrary - I wanted to keep my distance. Now even more than before. Especially when what happens day after day already becomes an unbearable burden. But she couldn't say about it.
- Adrian.
- Yes, Mister Count.
- Just call me father.
With these words, the count came closer and put his hands on both Adi’s shoulders. From the outside it looked as if he was hugging his son after a long separation, showing a bit of fatherly tenderness, but his fingers clenched with force. The pain is as if the bones are about to crumble. The Count whispered:
“There are too many strange ears here.”
-...
Adi lowered her eyes affirmatively. Then the count's hand rose. Wrapping his long curly hair around his fingers, he pulled it sharply towards himself. Her head jerked after her, but Adi didn’t make a sound.
- It's better to cut it off. Doesn't it bring back unpleasant memories?
- Yes.
When Adi answered, the count let go of his hand with a satisfied face. Adi gave him what he wanted. Complete obedience. Not a single thought, not a shadow of resistance - only unquestioning submission to his word.
Spencer Grimaldi walked out of the bedroom. Adi followed him. Walking into the reception room, Spencer casually sat down on the sofa - in the same place where the Duke always sat. Adi stood where he could see her.
- They say you were poisoned.
- Nothing serious.
- Nothing serious?
“When the killer fell, I lost my vigilance.”
-Where did the blow land?
- Near the ankle.
- Clear.
Surely no one would have found him there. Even during treatment.
The Count looked around the reception room. Then his gaze lingered on one place, and Adi looked there. There was a bottle and glasses in the chest of drawers right next to the table near the window. Adi opened the chest of drawers, took a bottle with a glass and walked up to him.
The Count extended his hand. Adi placed the glass on his palm. If I had just let go, he would probably have dropped it and broken it. Making sure that the count's fingers were clenched tightly enough, Adi let go of the glass, uncorked the bottle and filled it.
- By the way, here's what.
The liquid, clearer than amber and darker than tree bark, filled the glass.
— I heard a strange rumor.
He raised the glass to his lips. It was as if he was the owner here. Gray eyes caught the light in the darkness and sparkled.
“As if there is something significant between you and the Duke.”
Adi met his gaze with a calm face.
- This is a misunderstanding. I was simply assigned night security.
- So Bert Dean gave you this place?
“That fox would never do something like that,” Spencer muttered, as if talking to himself. Why does the Count think that Bert would never agree to this? And why does he look with such undisguised displeasure?
- Perhaps I made some mistake?
- Not yet.
The Count said this and put the glass on the table. A glass goblet on a marble table sparkled in the light of the lamps.
- Hold your position properly. Perhaps it will all start with this festival.
“What will begin?” But Adi doesn't ask. The questions do not bode well for either the count or Adi herself.
- Understood.
- Appeal.
- Got it, father.
Adi said. The Count frowned and clicked his tongue.
The real Adrian was sickly and grew slowly, so at that time he was not much different from Adrina.
Adi, who was here, grew up as expected.
Compared to his son sleeping in the grave, she seemed a much more dignified young man. Moreover, the memories of his dead son had faded, and that’s why it all felt almost real.
But in a strange way a thought arose - a woman. Although there was nothing feminine in their appearance, although the twins were completely identical in appearance, although this confident appearance was quite befitting of a real knight - and yet, strangely enough.
The fact that it was not Adrian, but Adrina, was in front of him, and it spoiled the Count’s mood. Maybe it's all about the long hair? Or maybe in physique - who knows.
“It’s a pity that you’re not tall.”
Adi's height was approximately at the level of the average Palesian norm. For a northerner - a little lower than usual, but it would be almost impossible to suspect a woman in him.
The voice was also quite low, and there were more than enough all sorts of incidents in life - so suspicions would not arise. When meeting with officials, she deliberately mixed in rude words and curses. Adrina was sure that she would not reveal herself. After all, she is also Adi.
But there's nothing you can do about growth. It looks like this body has already stopped growing. If she says “I will try”, she will hear in response “how exactly are you going to try?” The Count silently looked at Adi, who had not uttered a word, until he responded to a barely audible knock on the door.
The Count shifted his gaze. Adi followed his gaze. Opening the door to the reception room, she saw a knight outside. Not ducal.
- Adrian.
— Lef Zid.
Adi said, frowning. She didn't expect him to be brought here.
Lef took one look at Adi. Then, as if having lost interest, he approached the Count.
- His Serene Highness the Duke asks to see Sir Adrian Grimaldi.
- Has the servant arrived?
- Yes, he’s waiting outside.
After Lef’s words, Spencer thought for a while. If the servant had not been waiting, would he have kept her here longer? Unknown. However, the count himself did not like to be in her company, so he could have let her go quickly. Their relationship was mutually painful. It all depended on which of them was more patient. At least Adi had more patience than Spencer Grimaldi.
- You can go.
Spencer said. Adi bowed her head and turned around. Lef Zid stood in front of her. He clearly did not intend to give way, and Adi deliberately brushed his shoulder as she passed by, but immediately stopped when she heard Spencer’s voice: “Adrian.”
- Yes, father.
- At least write a letter to my wife. She's looking forward to it.
Of course. What she is waiting for is a letter from the real Adrian, not Adrina.
No matter how accurately she forged Adrian’s signature, no matter how kind and warm words she wrote, imitating him, all this was not his. Mother sends letters to the underworld every day. She definitely doesn’t want answers from the underworld.
- Understood.
The count heard Adi's answer, but knew that his wife would never receive the letter. Nothing more was said, and Adi quickly walked out of the reception area. The door didn't close behind her.
- Sir.
— Joel.
Adi said this, looking down. After he had been in that crevice, this face seemed especially desirable to him.
- His Lordship is waiting.
- Yes.
Joel's gaze went inward. The door was slowly closing. But Joel still didn't look away.
When the massive reception door finally closed completely, Joel looked away. And then he patted Adi on the shoulder. When Adi looked at him with a silent question, Joel reached over and smoothed his hair.
- Such beautiful hair, but it’s disheveled.
- A.
From his sympathetic look, Adi realized that this was a consolation. But the focus should not have been on “comforting” Joel. As the Count expected - and as Adi himself guessed.
- Everything is fine.
Of course they heard everything.