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Chapter: 34
Morgan watched Roy with concern as he looked unusually excited.
Among the brothers, Roy was not only the most intelligent but also possessed outstanding qualities fit for a king. There was, however, one lingering concern: he was still young and mentally immature, prone to becoming violent at the slightest provocation.
Roy picked up the small bouquet of flowers left alone on the bed.
The primroses he had given Juliet that morning still glistened with dew.
He had done his best to behave gently and kindly in front of her, because he had noticed that Juliet was wary of him.
“Just because you’re brothers doesn’t mean you’ll automatically get along.”
“There’s no need to prove yourself or persuade people who already dislike you.”
How could he not fall for someone who said words he had longed to hear his entire life?
Juliet was unlike anyone Roy had ever met. She did not fear him, nor did she abase herself to curry his favor.
My moon.
He would never forget the moment her pale, delicate face briefly appeared beneath the black veil, slightly furrowed in a frown.
Still, there was one thing that bothered Roy.
The ring on Juliet’s left ring finger.
…It’s irritating.
He had clearly heard others refer to her as “Madam Seneca.”
What was more, she seemed very accustomed to meeting his gaze, even though he was taller than most humans.
Does she have a husband?
Someone around his height?
A childish surge of jealousy welled up inside him, but as an arrogant wolf, Roy quickly dismissed it.
Hmph. Even so, he’s just a human.
Roy didn’t know much about humans, but he assumed that Juliet’s husband must be some insignificant man.
By a wolf’s standards, a husband who let his wife wander around alone was already a thoroughly inadequate one.
And that plain, undecorated ring only reinforced the impression.
Of course, the simple silver ring was something Juliet wore as a disguise to conceal her status—but Roy, unaware of this, concluded that her husband must be poor.
A more splendid ring would suit Juliet far better. Roy felt nothing but pity for her.
Rustle.
Clutching the bouquet, Roy smiled softly.
“…We’ll meet again soon, Juliet.”
As long as Juliet did not leave the Eastern region, they were bound to meet again.
The duke’s knight-commander, Milan, arrived in the capital at noon on the second day of the New Year.
At the very moment Juliet stepped off the train and arrived in Robel, Milan reached the duke’s residence in the capital.
It had been only two days since Duke Carlisle summoned him, and even considering his use of gates, he had come in great haste.
“You’ve finally arrived, Sir Milan!”
But as soon as he handed over his reins upon arriving at the estate, Milan sensed that something was off.
“Is my lord inside?”
“The duke is… yes, he’s in his study.”
The mansion was bustling with luggage carts and servants preparing to return north. Yet everyone seemed unusually restrained, as if walking on eggshells.
Feeling uneasy, Milan headed for the study.
Knock, knock.
“Come in.”
Inside the spacious study were only Duke Carlisle and his close aide, Hardin.
“My lord. It’s been some time since I—”
Milan stopped mid-greeting when he noticed a small white object resting on the table.
Don’t tell me that’s a holy relic…
“Milan. The report.”
“Ah, yes.”
Milan handed over the documents he had brought from the northern ducal castle.
Leaning back on the couch as he worked, Duke Carlisle was dressed in a black dress shirt and black trousers.
Even without a single accessory, his sharp features stood out against the plain, monochrome attire.
As the duke flipped through the papers, Milan smiled fondly, as if looking at a well-grown youngest brother.
Milan’s family had served the ducal house for generations.
In the North, where betrayal and intrigue were rampant, loyalty was a truly precious virtue. To Lenox, Milan was closer to a brother than a vassal.
Milan was even one of the few who had witnessed Duke Carlisle’s childhood.
He regarded his lord, four years his junior, as a real younger brother, and Duke Carlisle in turn deeply trusted the gentle knight-commander.
“But what do you intend to use the investigation into the young lady for?” Milan asked.
Even as he spoke, he assumed there must be some political issue behind the duke’s urgent summons—perhaps a problem with returning north.
“Oh, this?” the duke replied calmly as he scanned the report.
“It seems Juliet is with child.”
“…Pardon?”
Startled for a moment, Milan’s face quickly lit up.
“My lord!”
Though they never showed it, the duke’s retainers had long been anxious about the matter of succession, burdened with a master who lived exactly as he pleased.
“Your Grace—”
“But apparently, the child isn’t mine.”
The congratulatory smile froze on Milan’s face.
“W-What did you just say…?”
Judging by the duke’s reaction, Milan’s shocked expression must have been quite a sight.
Duke Carlisle smiled brightly and tossed the folder aside, then repeated himself gently—far too gently for Lenox.
“Two nights ago, Juliet ran away in the dead of night, saying the child she’s carrying isn’t mine.”
Slowly. Emphasizing each word.
“Do you understand now?”
“……”
As Milan stood speechless, Lenox smiled with dry eyes.
Understand? Hell no.
Despite his handsome face, his language was rough.
“I don’t understand it either—so what makes you think you would?”
Only then did Milan grasp the icy tension that hung over the capital residence.
Why Juliet was nowhere to be seen, and why the duke’s razor-sharp demeanor felt so disturbingly familiar.
It’s like we’ve gone back years.
Milan swallowed a sigh.
The atmosphere was eerily similar to ten years ago, when Lenox Carlisle had returned as if by miracle, slaughtered his uncles, and seized the ducal title.
Milan had thought his lord’s mellowing temperament came from age and experience—but it seemed he had merely been suppressing it.
Juliet Monad, despite her fragile appearance, was a woman of resolve and fierce pride.
Even if Duke Carlisle himself was unaware of it, Lenox had developed a habit of watching his words and actions only in front of his calm lover.
And now that the lover who tempered him was gone, that damned temper of his had resurfaced in full force.
“Could there have been… some kind of misunderstanding?” Milan ventured carefully.
“Miss Monad isn’t that kind of person.”
He remembered eighteen-year-old Juliet, composed even before her parents’ coffins seven years ago.
He had watched her spend seven winters in the North as the duke’s lover.
“You think so?”
Lenox scoffed, irritably running a hand through his hair.
“Well, we’ll find out once we catch up to her.”
His tone was so calm it was almost refreshing.
“Catch… up?”
Only then did Milan realize the real reason he had been summoned so abruptly—and why the duke was holding a tracking holy relic.
A pursuit team had already been formed.
“I figured I should at least see what kind of bastard it is.”
“……”
“As you said, we shared years together. This much courtesy is warranted, don’t you think?”
The chill in his smile bordered on playfulness.
Milan knew better than anyone: when Lenox was furious beyond measure, he became eerily composed.
“So you’ll be coming east with me.”
In that instant, Milan knew—this chase could end in tragedy.
“…I’ll have the horses prepared.”
The loyal knight bowed and withdrew.
Even after Milan left, Hardin lingered in the study for a moment.
He glanced at the shadowy bird circling above the map.
The small shadow bird flapping out of the holy relic indicated that Juliet Monad was steadily moving farther away.
Noticing that Hardin hesitated as if he had something to say, Lenox chuckled.
“What is it? You too have something to say about Juliet?”
“…No.”
Clunk.
Once Hardin closed the door and left, the smile vanished from the man’s face.
How absurd.
That even his vassals defending Juliet irritated him this much.
Lenox carelessly flipped through the remaining documents Milan had brought.
The holy relic could tell him where she was—but not what Juliet was thinking.
No matter how much he pondered it, Lenox could not understand why such a secretive woman would leave for the East, where she had no ties.
And yet, he was certain he was missing something important.
The more he dug into Juliet’s past, the clearer one thing became.
If she hadn’t lost both her parents in a tragic accident—
If she hadn’t had the misfortune of catching his eye—
Her life would have been relatively ordinary.
Admit it, you hypocritical bastard.
Lenox smiled faintly.
He had pretended to relent, pretended to grant her request to stay by his side—but hadn’t he benefited from her misfortune?
If it weren’t for him, she might have married her fiancé someday, lived an ordinary life, and had children like anyone else.
“I just want to live quietly, like everyone else.”
“…Ordinarily?”
What Milan brought back was a record of Juliet’s mundane daily life in the North, along with her basic personal information.
Juliet Monad’s twenty-five years of life—and seven years spent in the North—were summarized in just a few sheets of paper.
The man’s hand, flipping through pages he had already read dozens of times, suddenly stopped.
“……”
His gaze fixed on a section he had previously passed over without much thought—Juliet’s personal details.
His eyes grew cold as he read a single line at the bottom of the page.
Long before she ever met him, Juliet had once been engaged—an arrangement between families during her childhood.
That former fiancé was now serving at a military garrison in the East.
