Lennox allowed himself to be led from the room by a woman considerably smaller than himself. Juliet didn't glance back at him once during the entire walk.
He, in turn, found himself unable to look away from the naked expanse of her back—or from the hand that gripped his palm so firmly.
The place where Juliet led him proved to be a secluded terrace situated off to one side of the main hall.
*Shhhk.*
The moment Juliet turned and released his hand to close the terrace door behind them, Lennox felt an unexpected pang of disappointment.
His palm tingled strangely as her warmth gradually faded.
Even in the South, the evening air carried a distinct chill. Lennox considered offering Juliet his jacket to prevent her catching cold—but then dismissed the notion, reasoning she would almost certainly refuse it.
Only after confirming no one else was present did Juliet turn to face him.
"I didn't need your help."
"…And that's all you can say to the man who defended you?" he asked sarcastically—though he knew better than anyone that he shouldn't have interfered.
Juliet hadn't truly required his assistance. He simply hadn't been able to contain his fury in that moment.
Looking back, he recognized it had always been this way.
*"I'll never trouble you."* That was what she'd always claimed—but in reality, she had simply been telling him not to involve himself in matters that weren't his concern. If he'd understood that from the beginning, he would never have agreed to such terms.
"I'm perfectly capable of solving my own problems."
"……"
In other words, she was telling him—*again*—not to interfere in her affairs.
It was the way she drew such a clear, unwavering line between them that infuriated him so completely.
However, Lennox held his tongue. Now was not the time for a quarrel.
At this moment, he needed to contain his feelings.
Without waiting for a response, Juliet fixed him with an intent stare and asked:
"Why did you purchase the villa?"
"You don't seem remotely surprised."
"Because I realized the truth from the very beginning."
The garden, the curtains, the furniture—even the fruit arranged on the silver platter—had all been selected to suit Juliet's tastes perfectly. Furthermore, the villa bore a striking resemblance to the summer palace where they had spent their summers together, year after year.
"You must have assumed I wouldn't notice."
"……"
Lennox offered no reply.
Even when she had discovered him in the concert hall, Juliet had displayed neither anxiety nor surprise.
"What do you want from me?" Juliet asked, her expression suggesting genuine curiosity.
She couldn't comprehend why he had purchased the villa, furnished it entirely according to her preferences, arranged for Ilena to invite her south, and then created such a spectacle in the hall. But instead of answering, Lennox extended something toward her.
"What is this?"
"You'll understand when you see it," Lennox said briefly, offering no further explanation.
Initially, he hadn't intended to raise this matter in such an inopportune situation.
But a premonition whispered that if he didn't act now, he might never have another chance.
Because he wasn't certain they would ever see each other again…
Juliet accepted what he offered out of curiosity. After reading it, she looked up at him with a bewildered expression.
"Why are you…"
What she held in her hands was achingly familiar.
Seven years ago, this had been the very contract she'd asked him to sign.
"It's only fair that I receive a chance to make some adjustments—after you decided to do things your own way, isn't it?"
"I don't understand what you mean," Juliet replied, still regarding him with confusion.
"Let's repeat that contract you were so fond of. From beginning to end."
Juliet blinked slowly, finally recalling what Lennox had said when he'd asked her to dance.
He had spoken of renewing their contract.
"…Your Grace, are you perhaps unwell?" Juliet exclaimed, her expression shocked.
Convinced now of the seriousness of his intentions, she regarded him as though she harbored grave doubts about the fundamental sanity of his mind.
"Our contract has *ended*—and you *agreed* to that!"
"You requested a 'smooth separation'—but I don't recall ever agreeing to such terms."
He understood that from his perspective, this appeared childish. But he possessed no other options.
Recognizing that he had no intention of yielding, Juliet's brow furrowed.
"…"
Even as he spoke the words, Lennox knew they sounded as though he were driving her into a corner with no escape—but he couldn't stop himself.
Moreover, what had transpired in the hall had fundamentally altered the situation. Now he was even less inclined to surrender.
How could he have predicted what those vermin might do if Juliet slipped beyond his sight?
Therefore, the first priority was keeping Juliet close to him.
It was the best he could manage under the circumstances.
*[So don't do it again.]*
That was what she had told him in the banquet hall when he'd tried to shield her from the aristocrats' mockery.
After that incident, he had realized Juliet would never forgive him—regardless of what he said. Words alone would prove insufficient to atone for the sins of the past.
Besides, Juliet didn't even comprehend that he wished to correct the mistakes he had made.
Therefore, he had concluded it would be wisest to employ a familiar approach—since methods involving requests for forgiveness and permission to make amends had never suited him in the first place.
Lennox had searched desperately for any strategy that might allow him to reclaim her. To accomplish this, he had attempted to understand Juliet's way of thinking as thoroughly as possible.
With a rational woman like her, threats and contracts would prove far more effective.
The Juliet he knew possessed surprising insight into everything concerning him. She had not only proposed the original contract and made the promises that mattered to him—she had also performed actions so unexpected he couldn't begin to fathom her reasoning.
She was his complete opposite.
In the end, his calculation proved correct. Juliet regarded him with obvious reluctance—but she did not dismiss his wild proposal outright.
"I have no desire to lose several more years to you, Your Grace."
"…This time, it won't require nearly so long."
Lennox struggled to keep his voice calm.
He didn't expect to keep Juliet forever.
But simultaneously, he had calculated that she wouldn't be able to push him away within six months.
In truth, he wasn't certain he would still be alive in a few months.
Lennox recalled his physician's warning.
*Even if everything appears normal now, there's no guarantee what side effects might manifest in the future.* The doctor had added that they needed to wait and observe his condition for six months.
"Six months."
"……"
"In six months, I will disappear from your sight."
*Six months.*
Juliet's face went pale at these words—but Lennox was so consumed by his own tension that he failed to notice.
"It won't represent too great a loss for you," Lennox said with affected casualness. "After all, you'll only need to remain by my side for six months."
Then, after a brief pause, he added—as though it were a trivial afterthought:
"And incidentally—if you can tolerate me for that duration, I'll give you the villa. Or something else of equivalent value."
In truth, the southern villa had never been part of this proposal.
He had planned to transfer it secretly to Juliet through Ilena Lindberg. But now that she had detected his hidden machinations, it was obvious she wouldn't agree unless he offered terms that genuinely interested her.
"…And if I refuse?"
"Don't…" Lennox spoke in a quiet voice. "Unless you wish to lose what's dear to you."
Lennox watched with cold composure as mistrust flickered through her sapphire eyes—swiftly replaced by contempt. Then he took her hand and closed his fingers around her fragile wrist.
"When these six months have passed, I will tell you everything you wished to know."
"…What do you mean?"
"Snowdrop."
"How do you know about—" Juliet managed, visibly shaken that he knew the name of her key.
"You've always wanted to understand your butterflies."
A shadow of doubt crossed Juliet's face.
For his part, Lennox waited calmly for her decision, refusing to rush her. Though it wasn't as if he felt no anxiety. While Juliet excelled at contracts, he was best at intimidation and coercion.
It was the only method he could conceive to keep this woman close—a woman who would simply flee, abandoning everything he might offer her.
"But why go to such lengths?" Juliet asked, as though genuinely curious. "Am I still worth your attention?"
"……"
Even Lennox couldn't answer that question.
"I have nothing to give you. I don't even know what you *want* from me…"
"Well, then…"
At first glance, what he was about to say might seem trivial and insignificant—but Lennox truly had nothing else to offer. Besides, it was a question he had been asking himself constantly for months.
"I believe you've heard of love and affection before."
All he wanted was for Juliet to remain by his side. Where this desire originated—and why it consumed *him* specifically—he didn't know.
"Your Grace."
Suddenly, Juliet—who had been regarding him with a very peculiar expression—took a step toward him.
"There's something I would like to verify."
"What is it? Tell me."
But instead of explaining, Juliet reached toward him.
Lennox unconsciously leaned closer, intending to ask what she meant to do. But before he could speak, Juliet's lips brushed timidly against his.
It could hardly be called a proper kiss. Rather, the light touch of her mouth seemed more like she was testing something—conducting an experiment.
However, even this was sufficient for his sanity to evaporate instantaneously.
"…*Damn.*"
After a moment, it became painfully obvious that if Juliet hadn't regained her senses and pushed him away with a convulsive gasp, matters would have progressed far beyond a mere kiss.
Somehow managing to collect himself, Lennox fixed her with crimson eyes still blazing with barely suppressed desire.
"What are you *doing*?"
Juliet, who had also recovered her breath by this point, snorted softly:
"I assumed this was what you wanted. Was I mistaken?"
"…Yes. You were mistaken."
It sounded reasonably convincing—even to himself.
After that, he watched Juliet's face immediately darken, her shoulders slumping—and he wanted to rip out his own tongue.
"But I didn't mean you're *unattractive*. You understand? That's an important component, certainly—but it's not *only* that…!"
The more he spoke, the more desperately he wished the ground would swallow him whole.
He hadn't wanted the situation to deteriorate further through his words or actions. He simply needed to maintain composure. But observing Juliet's unreadable expression only heightened his agitation.
"What I meant to say was—"
"Fine."
"…What?"
Juliet removed her hands from his shoulders with a soft sigh.
"I don't know what you truly want from me—but in my case, gifts of property or threats regarding things I value don't constitute reasonable terms."
Lennox could scarcely believe his ears.
*Does this mean yes…?*
"Promise me something instead."
"State your conditions."
Juliet spoke in a remarkably decisive tone.
"In six months, we will no longer be bound by this contract—and you will not attempt to coerce me with it afterward."
"…Agreed. I promise," Lennox replied reluctantly.
But Juliet's conditions didn't end there.
"And you must also refrain from threatening to sever people's limbs or cut their throats in the presence of others."
Lennox felt mildly displeased by this stipulation. She seemed to be referencing the recent incident in the hall—but he hadn't considered it a *threat* at all.
"Why?"
"Because killing people is wrong," Juliet stated sternly, without a trace of humor.
However, Lennox disagreed entirely—because the creature Juliet referenced didn't qualify as a *person* by his standards.
"Then if it's not a person, is it permissible?"
"Your Grace…"
"…Very well. I understand."
Reluctantly accepting this final condition, Lennox took Juliet's hand and turned toward the terrace exit.
The weather was cold, and Juliet was probably already frozen.
Before he grasped her hand, he had half-expected she might refuse his touch—that she wouldn't follow him.
But Juliet unexpectedly accompanied him into the house when he drew her along.
Feeling the familiar warmth of her palm in his, relief flooded through him and his tension eased.
While Juliet couldn't see his face—since she walked behind him—Lennox chuckled quietly to himself.
The source of his amusement was her phrasing: *"in the presence of others."*
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