- I don’t know, I didn’t give orders. It was the Count's decision.
The Count said that he would figure it out himself. Claude gave him permission to act as he pleased. Then all this was not of such interest, so it did not matter what exactly he would do.
- Although now Adrian is going to betray the Count.
- Can we talk about this so openly?
“I said: you have no ambitions.”
- And you have no trust.
“I don’t need to earn anyone’s trust.” On the contrary, others must deserve what is mine. This is my position.
A rather arrogant manner, accessible only to those who are accustomed to commanding others. Jules does not blame Claude for this, because in this respect he himself is no different from his cousin.
- Why does the Count want to take Adi Grimaldi?
- And you know this? It looks like your eyes and ears really are everywhere.
The Palesa was not his residence, but Claude had no secrets left: it seemed that there was no information that he could not find out by bribing the right people.
- I don’t know myself.
Claude replied as he stretched out on the couch.
“Apparently, this happened right after I asked him about it.”
It looked like the outcome at the Training Ground had already been decided. Roy Gallardo's sword hovered menacingly, ready to slash Lef across, right under his armpit. Fortunately, he stopped dangerously close, but if he had only pressed harder or taken a step forward, the body would certainly have split into two parts.
Lef, apparently realizing this too, froze and then stepped back. His face contorted with annoyance, he grabbed a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and threw it.
- I lost.
However, what was actually lying on the ground of the Training Ground was Roy Gallardo. As if this situation was too much for him, as if suffocating, he sprawled on the floor, breathing so deeply that his chest could be seen heaving, and clenched his fist, raising it up.
The knights of Palesa were already hurrying towards the lying Roy. But Adi did not budge. He just crossed his arms over his chest, watching what was happening. Jules looked at the Count. The Count's gaze turned to Adi. Roy also looked at Adi and extended his hand. Only then did Adi enter the Training Grounds.
-Can you give me a Gallardo?
- If Gallardo himself says that he is moving to you, then I can.
Claude said: “Ah, Southerner.” He knew firsthand about the morals of the southerners. They are loyal to their cousin and hate the royal family.
- So I won’t get it.
Claude said with a hint of disappointment in his voice:
“But Adrian Grimaldi is another matter. He is a man of the north, not of the south, and he is much closer to me.
At these words he looked at Adi. Seeing a single white spot among this dark mass, he thought that it looked like a heron in a flock of crows.
Another crow stood nearby. Claude's eyes sparkled, like a bird looking for a desired gem.
- It will be mine.
* * *The book thrown by the Count hit him right in the head. Apparently, the hardcover book was quite heavy, because when it hit the floor, a dull thud was heard. Blood dripped down onto her in drops. Adi looked down calmly and then looked up.
Following this, the Count's palm hit Adi on the cheek. The head shook one way, then the other. The loud, intermittent breathing of the Count, whose anger had not yet subsided, could be heard.
Unconsciously exhaling, the Count untied the cravat, threw it on the floor and took the sword that Lef, who was standing next to him, handed him. The Count swung and hit Adi right in the sheath. The blows fell rhythmically: dull, dull, dull. He tried to hit hard, but inevitably both muscles and flesh were damaged.
The pain was both familiar and unfamiliar. It seems that this is exactly how they beat him when he first started learning fencing. He endured being hit with a wooden sword, not even knowing how to dodge. Now he knew how to avoid the blows, but he still couldn’t dodge. Because he knew what would come next.
The Count clicked his tongue in displeasure, seeing that Adi was not making a sound, and poked him in the solar plexus. From unexpected pain, Adi doubled over. Although he always wore leather armor under his clothes, this did not protect him from the blow.
Nausea rose in his throat, but Adi held it back, falling to his knees and bowing his head. The scabbard fell again on the curled up body. Despite the dull blows, not a scream or the slightest sound was heard. On the contrary, Lef's face, watching this scene, was distorted with a grimace of disgust.
The Count threw the scabbard on the floor, ran his hand through his hair and began to breathe heavily. It seems that he finally calmed down: looking at Adi, who was crumpled on the floor, he clicked his tongue. Then the Count's outstretched hand roughly grabbed Adi's hair and jerked her head up.
- Do you understand what you’ve done?
I still wouldn't understand. She did it on purpose, how could she not know? An involuntary chuckle escaped his lips, and the Count’s expression hardened. He seemed to understand the intent. However, not a shadow of betrayal appeared on the Count’s face. Betrayal can only be felt from someone you trusted. The Count did not trust Adi.
- That's why...
She knew what words would come next. It has always been this way. But either realizing the situation, or taking into account the presence of extra ears, the Count did not continue.
“You don’t even realize what you’ve done, but you’re making such a face.”
Adi looked at the Count silently. Her imperturbable face did not mean that she was unaware of the consequences of what she had done. For the Count this was incomprehensible. It is impossible to do something like this consciously.
- Kill Roy Gallardo.
Having said this, the Count finally saw how Adi’s expression changed.
“Since we cannot bring him to the Grimaldi house, all that remains is to kill him.” You did something wrong, you have to pay for it, right?
“If you bring him to the Grimaldi house, then you won’t have to kill him?”
“Will Roy Gagliardo come to the Grimaldi house?”
The Count snorts. Adi winces. The count's laughter is so similar to her own.
- Say something coherent.
They are similar.
“Don’t you understand what the name Grimaldi means to Gallardo?”
This hateful trait now exists in her too.
- That's why you look so friendly.
Spencer grins, looking at her comme like a stupid child.
- My son.
Adrian.
“Don’t do anything stupid by falling for Gallardo’s tricks.”
It's good that this didn't affect you.
“He only intends to use you.”
At least this body is stronger.
- To give away even fencing techniques... I thought you were smart, but you are hopelessly stupid.
When the Count took his hands away, his head fell helplessly down. The Count rose sharply from his seat and grabbed the scabbard again. Adi cringed. The back was safer. The raised scabbard fell down with force. They cut through the air with a whistle and hit him on the back.
- Your Excellency, enough already...
Lef Zid was already ready to rush to appease the Count, when suddenly a noise was heard outside. There was a dull knock, then the voices of those who tried to block the path to these chambers. More sounds of breaking wood were heard - what were they doing?
The Count froze and turned around. Lef Zid did the same. The next minute the door swung open and the servant shouted:
- Wait, your Excellency! You can't come here like this!
But his words were ignored, and the door opened even wider.
Bert and Roy stood in the opening of the double doors. Amazement flashed across their faces, but they immediately pulled themselves together, pretending that nothing unusual was happening. Just behind them towered Jules.
Jules, who at first looked at the room with a stony expression on his face, suddenly smiled.
- Count.
Juls's gaze was glued to Adi. His hair was dark, but in some places there was a brown tint - apparently blood. The corner of his mouth was cut and blood was running down it, his eyes and cheeks were red and swollen. Just looking at him made him feel hot. If the visible parts of the body looked like this, then one could only guess what was hidden under the clothes.
But what infuriated him most of all was something else.
- My knight.
Adrien's expression remained impassive.
— Because you didn’t come during working hours.
Her face looked as if this situation was familiar to her, as if she had accepted it.
- I heard that you came here.
Anger boiled within him. The heat rushing to my head threatened to burst out. Juls had a hard time suppressing the urge to burst into swearing and demand an explanation of what the hell she was doing.
-Can I pick her up?
Adi raised her head and looked at Yuls. Her light brown eyes seemed to be clouded over. It was as if she had not even thought about salvation, and this situation was new to her.
Jules clenched his fists. Short nails dug into the skin.
How the hell did she still live?
* * *On the way back, no one said a word. Only silence filled the not too long and not too short corridor. It seemed that the carpet spread on the floor absorbed all sounds.
When they arrived at the Residence, they were greeted by servants. They all seemed to be looking at Adi's face. Adi looked away, feeling awkward from the attention riveted to her. For her, other people's views never meant anything good. Deciding that it was better to leave quickly, Adi said: “Then I’ll go.”
Without getting any kind of predictable reaction from Adi, Juls asked:
- Where?
Adi looked at him with confusion. Did the count really keep her locked up for so long? She instinctively ran her hand over her clothes, trying to tell the time by touch, but there was no pocket watch with her.
Here Jules finally grasped the true meaning of her words. It was not about working hours, but about the fact that she was going to leave.
What the hell...
- Adrian.
- Yes, Your Grace.
Jules extended his hand. Adi just looked at him in confusion, not understanding what he wanted, while he said dryly:
- Take it.
Order? A moment of hesitation - and Adi still extended her hand. Yuls's palm covered it from above. Adi quietly stared at their clasped hands. His hand was larger than she expected.
- Bert, go to rest early. Roy, show up at dawn tomorrow.
With these words, he lightly pulled Adi's hand, without applying much force. The contact of their palms became awkward, and her own palm instantly sweated from the unusual heat of his skin.
- Joel, follow me.