Marquis Guinness regarded Father Solon with undisguised contempt, his lip curling as he stared at the silk pouch.
"Hair? Is this some kind of child's joke?"
But Solon produced a black leather-bound book from beneath his robes and protested vehemently.
"A childish joke? I am completely serious!" He clutched the tome to his chest like a sacred relic. "Within these pages lies a dangerous spell—one that was banned *hundreds* of years ago."
The reason he possessed such forbidden knowledge was simple: the false bishop had been a former inquisitor, one who investigated cases of heresy.
Among the noble priests, there had always been those who succumbed to the temptation of greater power—who turned their eyes toward the shadows and began studying dark magic.
*Shurkh.*
Solon flipped through several yellowed pages before stopping, his finger pressing firmly against the text.
The page he indicated was covered with a gruesome illustration: a bloated full moon hanging in a black sky, beneath which dangled a hanged man. A skull with a sickle rested at the bottom, grinning up at the viewer.
The Full Moon Spell.
"This spell is different from the one Sebastian used to control his dolls," Solon explained, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper. "This spell allows one to establish *dominant control* over a living person."
Solon possessed considerable divine power—it was precisely why he had risen to the position of assistant bishop in the first place.
And Marquis Guinness had promised him access to any valuable ingredients needed for the witchcraft ritual, no matter how rare or expensive.
Of course, the spell contained within this black book was *extremely* dangerous.
The danger lay in its price. If the spell failed, it would exact a corresponding toll—rebounding upon the caster with devastating force.
But Solon had nothing left to lose.
This was his only option. And if successful, he could kill two birds with one stone: take his revenge on Juliet Montague *and* earn the respect of his new patron by aiding in the destruction of the Duke.
He had not chosen the Full Moon Spell thoughtlessly. There was a very specific reason.
"If successful, this woman will become a puppet—one who acts entirely according to our will."
The Marquis squinted at the page with its eerie illustration, but the ancient text meant nothing to him. He could not read the old language.
"But what if you fail?"
"That's out of the question." Solon's confidence bordered on arrogance. "This spell is ancient sorcery. It cannot be stopped by either divine power *or* magic."
The Marquis's eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"I know a little about witchcraft," he said slowly. "And I know that there is not a single perfect spell in the world that cannot be neutralized."
Father Solon's lips stretched into a self-satisfied grin.
"Hmm, you're right. But what if there is *no other way* in the world to break this particular spell?"
The Marquis of Guinness found himself intrigued despite his skepticism.
"What do you mean?"
"All spells have a method of neutralization," Solon conceded. "But this one is the exception."
He laughed—a low, meaningful sound.
"The only creature capable of stopping this spell went *extinct* a hundred years ago."
In other words, it was a spell that could not fail—because there was simply no way to counter it. That was precisely why he had chosen it.
"For this reason," Solon concluded, his voice dripping with satisfaction, "I can assure you that Juliet Montague will be *completely* in our power."
---
## — The Duke's Unease —
"A priest from the bishop's temple?"
"Yes, Your Grace. And moreover—he is *wanted*."
"Then what the hell is this bastard doing next to the Marquis of Guinness?"
Frowning deeply, Lennox pulled his robe tighter around his shoulders before issuing a curt order.
"Get rid of him. Immediately."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Upon returning to the capital, the first thing Lennox had done was investigate the identity of the priest he had spotted lurking in the Marquis's retinue.
His instincts had been screaming at him that something was wrong—as though a hidden threat coiled nearby, waiting to strike.
In the end, his memory had not failed him. It was soon confirmed: the man was indeed a priest from Lucerne.
Lennox found it deeply suspicious that the Marquis of Guinness had suddenly taken such pointed interest in Juliet—especially now that a wanted priest, one who had escaped during the investigation into the false bishop's crimes, had appeared at his side.
Whatever was brewing, Lennox intended to eliminate the problem before Juliet ever learned of it.
After the knight departed to carry out his orders, the doctor stepped forward, his expression grave.
"Your Grace, are you certain that you experience no discomfort other than insomnia?"
"Yes," Lennox answered reluctantly.
The only time the Duke of Carlisle permitted the doctor to examine him was during Juliet Montague's absence.
The doctor had noticed this pattern and seized every opportunity accordingly—rushing to check the Duke's condition the moment Juliet left.
He was deeply concerned that side effects could manifest at any time, and he needed to be present when they did.
"Then I'll prescribe you some sleeping pills."
"..."
Lennox offered no response.
After the doctor departed, the Duke was left alone in the silence of his chambers.
In truth, he knew perfectly well the reason for his insomnia.
It was because of the dream.
The same dream, night after night—a woman whose name he did not know, whose face remained obscured in shadow.
At first, it had been just a brief, fleeting vision. But lately, the dream had begun to torment him constantly.
*Perhaps I'm possessed by an evil spirit?*
The thought surfaced unbidden, and Lennox immediately laughed at its absurdity.
"You are definitely not an evil spirit..."
The woman in the dream caused him no direct physical harm. It seemed unlikely that any malevolent creature had taken hold of him.
However, the problem was that these dreams had become far more vivid than before.
At first, she would only sit in the bedroom and weep quietly—soft, heartbroken sobs that echoed in the darkness.
But now her repertoire had expanded.
He watched her hurry down the stairs in a panic. He saw her wandering through the stables, her steps slow and aimless, as though searching for something she would never find.
In the most recent dream, the woman had passed by him wearing a snow-white dress. Her body was severely emaciated, her frame fragile as a bird's. And her back...
Her back was covered with ugly scars—old wounds, long since healed, but unmistakably brutal.
The scene had been only a fragment, too brief to understand the events that preceded it, let alone reveal the woman's identity.
Yet after each of these meaningless dreams, his heart would feel inexplicably heavy—or it would begin pounding like a war drum for no reason at all.
After a long silence, Lennox's voice emerged, soft and contemplative.
"When will you come back, Juliet?"
---
## — The Growing Dragon —
The day after Juliet returned to the capital, she headed to her mansion to retrieve the dragon.
"Q!"
Onyx bounded toward her the moment she stepped through the door.
It had only been a few weeks, but the little dragon had grown *considerably*. When he leaped into her lap out of habit, Juliet found herself staggering, genuinely afraid he might slip and fall.
But the dragon was not the only one waiting for her at the mansion.
"Sir Ethelid?"
"Long time no see, Miss Juliet."
Ethelid, the wizard from the Marigold guild, sat waiting in the living room. He was dressed in luxurious robes, his posture relaxed but his expression expectant.
Juliet paused, slightly confused by the unexpected guest.
"What are you doing here?"
"Don't worry—I'm here on business." He waved a dismissive hand. "I wouldn't cross the continent just to see *you*."
Ethelid explained that guild work had brought him to the capital, and he had stopped by her mansion specifically to meet with her.
"How are Grandpa and Auntie?" Juliet asked eagerly. "And how is Theo?"
As soon as she finished inquiring about her relatives, Ethelid handed her a thick envelope.
"It's from the old man."
"Ah!"
While Juliet unfolded the letter and began reading, Onyx continued to squirm on her lap, struggling to find a comfortable position. First his front paws slipped off, then his back paws—he simply couldn't settle.
"Kyun...?"
Although she had only been gone a few weeks, Onyx had grown to the size of a very large cat. Previously, he could rest comfortably on one of Juliet's knees. Now, he couldn't even turn around without sliding off, and his confusion was evident.
"Q!"
The little dragon clearly did not understand why this was happening. In his mind, he was still small—despite his considerably larger body.
After twirling around on her lap for several more attempts, Onyx finally compromised. He curled himself into a tight ball and squeaked contentedly, his tail wrapped around his nose.
When Juliet finished folding the letter, Ethelid spoke.
"I'll be staying in the capital for a few more weeks. Please let me know when you've written your reply."
"Yes, definitely."
Ethelid's visit should have ended there.
But for some reason, he hesitated—lingering as though unable to bring himself to leave.
"By the way, Miss Juliet... have any strange people come to see you recently?"
"What do you mean by 'strange people'?"
"Um..." He shifted uncomfortably. "Please don't be surprised—just listen to me."
His explanation was this:
Besides himself, several other wizards from the guild had recently arrived in the capital. These were mages who had left the Tower and, with Ethelid's support, had joined the Marigold guild.
"You see, the thing is—" His voice rose with frustration. "These *crazy* wizards keep insisting on being allowed to see the little dragon!"
Ethelid launched into an angry speech, putting forward the theory that this was precisely why the wizards had joined the guild in the first place.
Now Juliet understood why he looked so haggard.
He seemed utterly exhausted by the relentless requests of his fellow wizards, who pestered him constantly for an introduction to the baby dragon.
If her memory served correctly, Ethelid had warned her shortly after their return from Lucerne that rumors about the dragon would inevitably spread after Onyx's walk through the temple.
Apparently, those rumors had reached even the Tower, spreading among the mages there.
That was why he had told her to be very careful—to show the dragon to no one.
It had never occurred to her, however, that Ethelid himself might bring those very wizards to her doorstep.
"Will anything bad happen if I show Onyx to these wizards?"
Ethelid immediately began to dissuade her.
"You can refuse. No—I would *advise* you to refuse outright."
"Why?"
"Sometimes it's better to leave your dreams intact than to shatter them," he muttered meaningfully, watching Onyx struggle to catch his own tail.
*Other than being cute and friendly, what was the point of this creature's existence?*
Ethelid had clearly expected something quite different from a legendary dragon. His disappointment was palpable as he regarded the little beast with mild disapproval.
Juliet didn't fully understand what he meant, so she simply nodded.
"Oh, Sir Ethelid—did you receive my letter?" she asked, suddenly remembering.
"The one where you asked about 'Snowdrop'?"
"Yes."
Shortly before leaving for the South, Juliet had sent a letter to Ethelid, hoping he might have information about Snowdrop.
Not the flower, of course.
Even though Ethelid had been excommunicated from the Tower, he still maintained friendly relations with some of the wizards there. Juliet had thought he might know something that even the information guilds could not uncover.
Ethelid replied with a yawn.
"I asked my teacher in the Tower to help. I'll let you know as soon as I receive an answer."
"Thank you." Juliet offered him a sweet smile, then continued, "In any case, Onyx will be staying with me for a while longer—so I won't be running into your fellow wizards."
She placed the still-kicking Onyx into a wicker basket and covered it with a lid.
"By the way, tomorrow I'll be going to the imperial palace."
"The palace...?"
"Yes." Juliet frowned slightly, noticing the strange expression that crossed Ethelid's face. "Is something wrong?"
Tomorrow, a pre-wedding meeting was scheduled between the Second Prince Cliff and Fatima Glenfield.
Juliet had received an invitation.
She had no choice but to attend.
---