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Chapter: 31
“……A wolf?”
Juliet frowned as, from the other side, a group of large-built men came rushing over in a crowd. They were the ones the butterflies had called “forest beasts.”
“Sir Roy!”
“You’re safe!”
Sir Roy?
Juliet pressed a hand to her temple and stared hard at the man in front of her.
So that wolf wasn’t “Sir Roy”?
Watching the man casually nod to the people who had come running to rescue him, a single question popped into Juliet’s mind.
But why is he the only one half-naked?
She stared incredulously at the man’s partially exposed upper body.
Whatever ordeal he’d been through, his shirt was little more than a shredded rag. Frankly, it would have been better if he’d taken it off completely.
Before the man could meet her eyes and apologize again, Juliet spoke first.
“Put some clothes on.”
“…Pardon?”
“Ahem.”
A large man standing behind him cleared his throat and draped a long outer cloak over the young man’s shoulders.
The ash-gray–haired youth tilted his head, clearly not understanding what the problem was, but obediently accepted the cloak.
The one who handed him the robe was the middle-aged man Juliet had earlier thought looked “as big as Sir Kane.”
The same ones the butterflies had called “forest beasts.”
Ah.
Juliet suddenly understood why the massive wolf that had smashed through the cage was nowhere to be seen.
“So… you’re human.”
“What?”
“That huge wolf…”
After a brief moment of confusion, the man broke into a bright smile.
“Yes. That’s right.”
He looked oddly pleased.
Only then did Juliet realize the young man was quite handsome.
“I knew you’d figure it out.”
Then did that mean everyone who’d come to rescue “Sir Roy” was also a wolf?
In that sense, forest beasts was a very accurate description.
Are shapeshifting wolves common around here?
Lycanthropes, she thought. The proud, reclusive forest race that despised humans.
As Juliet drifted in thought, the man with the robe stepped closer and gently kissed the back of her hand.
“My apologies for thanking you so late, my lady.”
The smoothness of the gesture—perfectly aristocratic—made Juliet flinch. She hadn’t sensed his movement at all.
Then, the moment she heard his name, her mind went blank.
“My name is Romeo Romulus Baskal. Please, just call me Roy.”
“…Pfft.”
Juliet burst out laughing before she could stop herself.
Romeo? Wasn’t that the name of a storybook hero her nurse used to read to her as a child?
To think she’d meet a Romeo here of all places.
Roy blinked, flustered, clearly unsure why she was laughing.
“Did I… say something rude?”
Shaking her head to deny it, Juliet still couldn’t quite suppress her laughter.
She must have hit her head harder than she thought.
“Uh… is it really such a strange name by human standards?”
“No, it’s not that.”
She bit her lip, forcing the laughter down.
“I’m sorry for laughing. I’m—”
Behind him, the other wolves who had come to rescue Roy were glaring at her with grim expressions.
Apparently, the world of wolves didn’t have fairy tales starring characters with names like that.
Instead of explaining herself, Juliet opted for a simple introduction.
“My name is Juliet.”
* * *
The second day of the New Year was scheduled for the Emperor’s parade.
All it involved was riding a lavish carriage through the capital and waving, but it was a favorite event of the imperial family, who loved nothing more than showing off.
However, just as the Emperor was about to board the carriage bound for the plaza, he had to hurriedly climb back down and return to the palace.
The chief attendant arrived with an urgent message.
The Duke of Carlisle had requested an immediate audience.
“Requested,” they said—but in truth, he was already on his way, knights in tow.
“That impudent little brat—starting the year by ordering an old man around like this!”
The Emperor was seething, breathless from rushing back.
With the attendant’s help, he barely made it to the seat of honor in the audience chamber when a servant announced:
“Your Majesty, the Duke of Carlisle requests an audience.”
“Let him in.”
The Emperor forced himself to appear dignified as the Duke entered.
“Your Majesty.”
“What formality between us? Come closer, Duke.”
Wearing a falsely benevolent, fatherly smile, the Emperor gulped down the lukewarm tea handed to him.
The current Duke of Carlisle was younger than even the Emperor’s youngest son—shockingly young.
The House of Carlisle was a double-edged sword to the imperial family.
Their powerful northern army was unsettling, but as long as it wasn’t aimed at the throne and stayed within the North, they were the Empire’s strongest ally.
At least he’s better than his father.
The Emperor remembered the former duke well—Helios Carlisle.
Helios Carlisle embodied every virtue and vice of the Carlisle bloodline.
In other words, he was completely insane.
With a beautiful face, he slaughtered enemies without blinking—and didn’t hesitate to spill his own bloodline either.
Though this one’s no different.
It was common knowledge that upon returning north, the young duke had executed every last one of his uncles.
Still, there was a decisive difference between father and son.
Helios, who had lived a life of reckless debauchery, had suddenly gone completely mad.
It was around the time his son was born, when Helios was thirty.
From then on, rumors spread—he’d murdered the woman who bore his child in a fit of madness; he’d tried to kill his newborn son with a blood-stained sword, only to be stopped by his retainers.
After that, Helios shut himself away in the North, drug-addled and raving, until one day, years later, news came that he was dead.
The official cause was overdose.
The Emperor believed it was assassination.
So much arrogance—and in the end, he was only human.
The Emperor sneered inwardly at the duke who’d died before forty.
The infant who had nearly been killed by that madman was now standing before him:
Renox Carlisle.
Just as unsettling a figure.
After Helios’s death, the sole heir—a mere nine-year-old child—had been thrown onto the battlefield.
Left alone in a demon-infested desert stronghold, how had he survived?
Some said he’d sold his soul to a demon.
Others claimed he’d obtained a cursed sword possessed by a spirit.
Only the young duke himself knew the truth.
Still… he’s tolerable.
At the very least, he hadn’t yet killed his wife and child like his father had.
“Ahem. So, Duke—what is it you wished to see me about?”
“I’m getting married.”
Pff—
The Emperor hurriedly wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
“M-married? You? A duke?”
“Yes.”
This insolent brat—marriage? To whom?
Since when were the butchers of House Carlisle capable of a normal married life?
“Well… congratulations, I suppose. Which family is the lady from?”
The Emperor rapidly reviewed potential noble houses in his mind.
If Carlisle allied by marriage with foreign royalty or a powerful house, it would be troublesome.
Notably absent from that list was the Count of Monad, known as the duke’s current lover.
Though his lovers were famous, it was equally well-known that the Duke of Carlisle never took them seriously.
His enemies—including the imperial family—quietly welcomed his casual relationships. Nothing weakened a house more than an unstable line of succession.
And yet—marriage, all of a sudden?
Renox Carlisle looked at the Emperor coolly and said without a smile:
“She is Your Majesty’s adopted daughter.”
“…?”
The Emperor froze.
Did I have an adopted daughter?
He had no daughters at all—only three sons.
“I have no adopted—”
“As of today, Juliet Monad is Your Majesty’s adopted daughter.”
“Ju-Juliet? Who is—”
The Emperor’s mouth fell open.
Is he insane?
Is he threatening me to adopt my own kept mistress as my daughter?
Juliet Monad was of age—and a countess in her own right. Why would she need adoptive parents?
Then realization struck.
The long-standing hostility between House Carlisle and the Temple was infamous.
Renox Carlisle had even been excommunicated for shutting down temples in the North.
Which meant he couldn’t receive a proper Temple-blessed wedding.
Nor could his children be formally acknowledged as legitimate heirs.
Normally, this meant little to the North, where nobles lived by the rule of “If a child is born, we’ll marry later.”
But if the bride were a member of the imperial family—
The Temple was obligated to bless imperial marriages.
So this arrogant wretch intended to use the imperial family just to have a flawless wedding.
The audacity…
Just as the Emperor prepared to scold him, feeling oddly smug that the great northern lord had come begging—
Renox calmly placed a document before him.
“Please read the rest and sign.”
“What is this?”
The Emperor lost his chance to rage as his eyes scanned the page—and nearly popped out of his head.
In recognition of the friendship and merits of the late Count Cassius Monad,
Juliet Rosemary Monad, sole heir of House Monad, is hereby entered into the Imperial Family.
The document concluded by offering a sapphire mine owned by House Carlisle as an engagement gift to the crown.
“….”
At that moment, the Emperor completely lost the will to fight.
And swiftly revised his opinion of the late Duke Helios Carlisle.
They say bloodlines are terrifying…
This one was no less mad than his father—perhaps even more so.
