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Chapter: 33
After making a full round of the train, Juliet returned to the dining car—with a wolf and a string of butterfly creatures trailing behind her.
The butterflies refused to give up.
While Juliet inspected Count Hilven’s group one by one, the butterflies hovered nearby, pestering her nonstop.
“What about this one?”
“Then how about that one?”
“Can we eat them?”
<We. Just a little. Eat.>
<Just. A tiny. Bite?>
“…Whether it’s a little or a tiny bite, they die either way,” Juliet muttered.
The butterflies behaved as if eating the bad humans locked in cages were their unquestionable right.
<But. We’re. Hungry.>
<Yesterday. Very. Hard. Work.>
Why were they suddenly so obsessed with eating humans? Had she spoiled them somehow? As Juliet seriously pondered this, realization dawned on her.
…Don’t tell me.
The clue lay in the butterflies’ insistence that since they’d worked hard, they deserved to eat bad humans.
Seven years ago, after they had devoured Count Gaspal alive, the butterflies seemed to have formed their own rule: If we catch a bad human, Juliet might let us eat them.
And now that rule had fallen apart.
Juliet felt dumbfounded—and a little guilty.
Her butterflies didn’t need regular meals like humans, but whenever they used their powers, they complained of hunger like cranky children.
They fed on emotions such as human fear for energy, yet separately demanded raw meat like ordinary beasts.
Juliet guessed that because they were beings from another dimension, they needed occasional flesh to maintain their physical form.
It had already been two days since they fled the capital, and it had been nearly five days since the butterflies had last eaten anything.
Given how much power they had used—as they so proudly pointed out—it was no wonder they were starving.
She asked the dining staff, but there was no raw meat. They could offer a large slab of ham instead.
Unfortunately, the butterflies’ tastes were nothing like humans’. They hated cooked or processed meat.
The only thing they tolerated was high-quality jerky—which she had lost yesterday.
“When we get off the train, I’ll buy you something delicious, okay? Just hold on a little longer.”
<……>
She tried coaxing them, but the butterflies had clearly sulked, refusing to respond.
If they were really angry, they’d just disappear, she thought.
Instead, they made a point of hovering nearby, radiating their displeasure and demanding attention—just like five-year-olds.
Leaving the sulking butterflies alone for the moment, Juliet took an empty seat and ordered food.
The dining car was completely empty. After yesterday’s incident, the terrified passengers were all hiding in their cabins.
Roy, who had followed her the whole time, sat across from her.
“Is ‘Seneca’ your family name?” he asked with curious eyes.
He must have noticed the crew calling her “Mrs. Seneca” in the cargo car earlier.
No. My surname is Monad, and Lillian Seneca is just a fake name on my ID.
But explaining was too much trouble, so Juliet simply nodded.
“Yes.”
“Then is your full name Juliet Seneca?”
She must have been careless to tell him her name yesterday.
Mixing identities would be troublesome.
Uncomfortable with adding more lies, Juliet pushed the omelet plate toward him instead of answering.
“Eat.”
“Yes.”
Breakfast was just as delicious as yesterday—thick bacon, soft eggs, tomatoes, and grilled asparagus.
Unlike the butterflies, Roy didn’t complain about the food at all, and the two finished their meal quietly.
“Who is the human you’re looking for?” Roy asked while waiting for the tea to steep.
“I might be able to help.”
“Well… yesterday…”
Juliet paused, trying to translate ‘Was there a man with a red tattoo on the back of his hand among the people you interrupted?’ into something polite.
“…Did you see a man with a red tattoo on the back of his hand among those causing the disturbance?”
“A red tattoo on the back of his hand?”
Yes. Because of you, I didn’t get a good look and lost him.
Roy thought for a moment, then shook his head.
“I’m sorry. I don’t remember.”
As expected. Juliet wasn’t very disappointed.
Amid yesterday’s chaos, she wasn’t even sure she’d really seen it.
“Is the man you’re looking for… important to you?” Roy asked cautiously.
Important?
Juliet searched her memories.
In a way, yes.
Yesterday, she thought she’d seen a man with a red tattoo on his hand.
A vivid red spider, etched on scorched skin.
How could I forget?
Seven years ago, that same tattoo had been on the hand of the man who murdered her parents. It appeared in her nightmares without fail.
If someone connected to her parents’ killers was still walking around freely, Juliet would strangle him on the spot.
But right now, she had nothing but a hunch.
I couldn’t even confirm whether it was really the same tattoo.
Even if it was identical—what then?
For all she knew, it could be a common tattoo in the East. That proved nothing.
The unknown assailants who murdered her parents had all been devoured by the butterflies on the spot. Baron Gaspal, who had orchestrated the kidnapping, met the same fate.
Her revenge had ended seven years ago. It was better not to cling to lingering regrets.
“If he’s important, should I try looking again?” Roy offered gently.
“He might already be badly hurt… or dead.”
“It’s fine. He’s not that important. Drink your tea.”
“Yes.”
Relieved by her casual response, Roy’s expression brightened.
Like a puppy, Juliet thought.
She changed the subject.
“What are you going to do with those kidnappers—Count Hilven’s group?”
Roy thought for a moment, then asked, “What do humans usually do?”
“Hand them over to a court and judge their crimes.”
Kidnapping was a serious offense. Even in the lawless East, where imperial law barely mattered, each city still had its own lord and court.
She’d heard that the eastern underground was booming with illegal trades—rare creatures, underground arenas, and betting.
Wolves—Lycanthropes—were especially valuable.
Though forest wolves were strong and insular, some were still abducted and sold underground.
Roy had nearly been sold to an underground arena himself.
Still, Juliet didn’t trust courts very much.
If someone had kidnapped her, she wouldn’t bother with a trial—she’d make sure there was no need for one.
But Roy smiled softly.
“Then I’ll do the same. Like humans.”
Juliet blinked. Really? She wouldn’t have.
She didn’t say that out loud.
“How did you get kidnapped, anyway?”
Roy’s face reddened.
“Ah… I ran away from home.”
Ran away?
Juliet flinched and looked him up and down again.
Oh. A runaway kid.
His pretty face suddenly looked much more boyish.
Come to think of it, judging by the wolves who came looking for “Lord Roy,” he must be a young noble.
“Why did you run away?”
“…Do you have siblings?” he asked.
“No. I’m an only child.”
She’d wanted an older sibling when she was little.
“I’m the youngest, so I fight with my brothers a lot. And I… broke my second brother’s neck.”
“…?”
Roy said it so shyly that Juliet was momentarily stunned—then accepted it.
Well, wolves would be like that.
“So you don’t get along with your brothers?”
“They all hate me. Say I’m arrogant even though I’m the youngest.”
For the first time, Roy’s voice sounded cold.
“…Of course, I know we’re family and should get along!”
Realizing he’d spoken too honestly, he hurried to add that, glancing nervously at her.
Juliet shrugged.
“That’s not always true.”
“Huh?”
“You don’t have to get along just because you’re siblings. There’s no obligation. Sometimes people hurt each other more because they know each other too well.”
She thought of Baron Gaspal and the Duke of Carlisle’s relatives.
Blinded by greed, killing brothers, selling nephews, sending nine-year-olds to die on battlefields.
“So there’s no need to prove yourself or beg people who dislike you. You’re already busy enough being good to the people who like—”
Ah.
Juliet bit her tongue mid-sentence. Roy was staring at her, eyes wide.
That was a mistake.
Why was she saying things like this to a wolf she barely knew?
She regretted it—but Roy looked brighter instead.
“…Do you really think that way?” he asked.
“…Yes. But you should still go home.”
She brushed it off lightly. What else was there to say to a runaway kid?
Don’t worry your parents. Go home.
“Yes. I will.”
“…?”
For some reason, Roy nodded obediently, looking very pleased.
As they finished their tea, Roy told her about his clan’s forest and their palace by the lake—how beautiful it was.
“I’ll invite you someday. There’s something I really want to show you.”
He spoke meaningfully, but Juliet only smiled.
She was sorry—but that day would never come.
* * *
When the train arrived at the midway station, Robel, passengers poured out in a rush.
Though there was still a full day to the final stop, no one wanted to stay aboard after yesterday’s chaos.
“Injured! Over here! Bring the injured this way!”
Amid the bustle of luggage and wounded passengers, a woman in a black veil covering half her face quietly disembarked without drawing attention.
Carrying only a single bag, Juliet slipped smoothly through the crowded station. She glanced back once.
Watching the train depart, she murmured,
“I feel a little bad.”
Leaving without even saying goodbye.
After breakfast, Roy had escorted her to her cabin and asked if he could come get her for dinner—unaware she planned to get off here.
But they weren’t close enough for formal farewells, were they?
Besides… it made me uneasy.
He’d been gentle and obedient like a wagging puppy around her—but Juliet never fully lowered her guard around a wolf that was too friendly.
Instincts shouldn’t be ignored.
She shrugged.
“He’s not a little kid. He’ll find his way home.”
Plenty of wolves had come looking for him, after all.
Juliet turned away without regret.
* * *
Inside the rattling train.
Roy stood before Juliet’s now-empty cabin.
The room was neatly tidied. On the bed lay only a bouquet of primroses and a faint lingering scent.
“Lord Roy.”
A large, middle-aged man spoke respectfully from behind him.
“It’s time to go.”
Morgan, urging him along, was one of the elders who had come to rescue Roy—and one of the few guardians who consistently sided with him despite the trouble he caused.
“Morgan.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I never understood why those idiots kept talking about ‘mates,’” Roy said casually.
“……”
As he’d told Juliet, Roy was the youngest among his siblings.
Not in the way she imagined—but it wasn’t a lie.
He had three older brothers, all weaker and more incompetent than him.
Pathetic creatures who acted like elders just because they were born first and already had mates.
“But now I get it.”
Roy smiled faintly. Despite Juliet leaving without a word, he wasn’t angry at all.
Somehow, he’d expected this from the start.
“So this is how it feels.”
To fall in love at first sight with someone you just met.
