Out of nowhere, as though swept by an invisible wind, butterflies began to swirl around Juliet, disrupting her train of thought.
These attentive creatures looked especially fragile today.
**(Tired.)**
**(No more strength. Very tired.)**
**(Praise. We want it.)**
Unusually, they had been given a task—and the butterflies behaved as though it were not labor, but an opportunity to distinguish themselves.
***Pip!***
Meanwhile, beneath the table, a tiny dragon with pumpkin-colored eyes raised his head and stared greedily at the butterflies.
Onyx perched on the edge of the table and lazily swatted his paw, making the butterflies jerk back sharply in obvious disgust.
**(Nobodies.)**
**(Stupid. Annoying.)**
They grumbled with disdain. But to the baby dragon, such words sounded almost refined.
*?*
The butterflies fluttered their wings in irritation and hurried away from Juliet. Excitement lit up the dragon's eyes—clearly, they were not easy prey.
Watching this, Juliet thought: *It seems butterfly illusions don't work on dragons.*
Just like when Onyx had carelessly "eaten" the curse. On the outside, he looked like an ordinary kitten. But deep down, he was far more capable than he appeared.
"Come here, Onyx."
Juliet cut an apple in half and handed one portion to the baby.
***Crunch!***
Onyx immediately turned his attention to the treat, and the butterflies vanished from his field of interest.
***Knock-knock.***
A light rap at the reception door.
"Come in."
The door opened slightly, and the Duke of Carlisle's court physician appeared on the threshold.
"Greetings, Miss Juliet," he said warmly.
"Welcome, Lord Halbury," Juliet replied with a smile, gesturing for him to sit.
"Thank you."
When the doctor settled into the chair opposite her, Juliet handed him a cup of tea.
"Please, help yourself."
"Thank you. Excellent tea."
While the dragon lazily gnawed on his apple beneath the table, they enjoyed a few sips in companionable silence.
"Secretary Elliot mentioned you wished to see me. Did something happen?"
"Not exactly. I have a question—if you don't mind."
"For me? Ha-ha."
The doctor laughed briefly and nodded immediately.
"Of course. Ask away."
"Thank you, Lord Halbury."
Juliet was still smiling.
But with that same serene smile, she asked:
"Tell me—for what reason did His Grace's mother die?"
***Cough-cough!***
The doctor choked loudly, visibly flustered. Concern flashed across his face as he set down his teacup.
"Forgive me, miss... but how did you know that?"
Seeing his worried expression, Juliet realized immediately: *He knows. He knows everything.*
"But the previous duchesses didn't die in childbirth, did they?"
The doctor froze, as though uncertain how to respond. Then, suddenly, he jumped up from his seat.
"Excuse me, miss... I have urgent matters to attend to—"
"Lord Halbury," Juliet said firmly.
The warmth had left her voice. It was cold now—uncompromising.
"Sit down."
---
## — The Week-Long Celebration —
In honor of the wedding of the Second Prince, the Emperor had declared a grand celebration that would last an entire week.
It was a truly magnificent spectacle—so lavish that some whispered it would drain the imperial treasury. Rare magical creatures brought from distant lands stunned the imagination, and skilled mages staged unique performances day after day.
Some voiced dissatisfaction, claiming it was excessive. But the Emperor paid no heed to such complaints.
"The rebellion of the Marquis of Guinness has not yet been fully suppressed..."
"So His Majesty is overexerting himself. Is he afraid his power is weakening?"
Despite such whispers in court circles, the celebration sparked wild enthusiasm among the common people. And when the usually reserved Duke of Carlisle appeared at the festivities, the Emperor was especially pleased.
Numerous foreign guests attended the lavish banquet. The Emperor proudly "displayed" the Duke of Carlisle like a priceless jewel.
"Well, Duke," the Emperor asked quietly—but at his words, an oppressive silence fell over the hall. "What do you intend to do with the Marquis of Guinness?"
"I haven't decided yet," Lennox replied lazily, as though the question held no relevance.
Though everyone knew there was far more to it than that.
Of course, the matter should have been discussed rationally. After all, the Marquis's rebellion had its roots in inter-noble conflict.
But everyone also knew that, according to the laws of nobility, the lands of Guinness—the rich, fertile Southlands—now belonged to Lennox Carlisle by right of conquest.
Yet the Duke had said not a single word about what he intended to do with the rebel's property.
If he did not assert his claim and allowed others to encroach, it might embolden rival noble families to make similar demands.
After all, during the uprising, some had hastily sent troops, while others had generously contributed funds—ostensibly to support the Marquis. Now they, too, could begin laying claim.
That was why everyone waited anxiously for the Duke's pronouncement.
But Lennox had no interest in court gossip.
His attention was focused on the woman standing at the edge of the room.
---
## — A Quiet Conversation —
Juliet stood beneath the chandeliers, quietly discussing something with the man beside her.
Her conversation partner was the Duke's secretary, Elliot.
He spoke in a hushed voice:
"I delivered the item you requested directly to your room."
Elliot looked slightly worried, glancing quickly toward where the Duke of Carlisle sat.
"Please ensure His Grace doesn't find out about this."
"Thank you, Elliot." Juliet smiled warmly.
"But why do you need the Carlisle family tree?"
"Just... wanting to clear a few things up." Juliet shrugged casually, as though discussing nothing of consequence.
In truth, she had asked Elliot for a copy of the Carlisle family genealogy.
Despite their storied history, the Carlisle family had remarkably few descendants. Unlike other aristocratic houses, their lineage didn't stretch into endless volumes. However, their history remained convoluted due to a unique custom: they made no distinction between legitimate and illegitimate children.
In other words, every newborn was considered a potential heir. Within the family, every descendant was treasured.
From the family's founder—Eleanor Carlisle—this bloodline had stretched across the centuries.
During the day, Juliet had attempted to extract the truth from the Duke's court physician. But he had only advised her to examine the family tree herself.
"By the way, Miss Juliet..."
"Yes?"
"This may sound strange, but... are you and His Grace all right? Have you had a falling out?"
Juliet looked at Elliot silently, then replied with a sly smile:
"No. Why would you think that?"
However, the Duke's secretary cautiously returned to what was truly troubling him.
"It's because of the Marquis of Guinness situation."
"Ah, I see."
Juliet had a vague idea of what was happening.
The issue was that the Duke of Carlisle had still not issued a statement regarding the fate of the Marquis's confiscated property.
"But we have all the evidence! His Grace has every right to the Marquis's lands, doesn't he?"
"In theory, yes."
"Think about it, Miss Juliet. The southern territories are fertile, extraordinarily rich. And what of the Marquis's collection of jewels?" Elliot tried his best to convince her. "If there's any piece of jewelry you like, just say the word. I'll pass it on to His Grace..."
"No, that's not it."
*Did she really want anything? Unlikely. The Marquis's greatest wealth lay in his lands—and what would she do with them? Start a farm?*
The jewels didn't inspire much enthusiasm either.
And yet... Juliet felt as though she were missing something important. Something was eluding her.
While she pondered, Elliot continued:
"In fact, there's a possibility the issue of distributing the Marquis's property will be brought before the assembly of nobility."
"I see."
"Yes. Some nobles claim they invested heavily in those lands and now have the right to participate in their division."
"Understandable..."
"But as you can see for yourself, His Grace shows no particular interest in the Marquis's inheritance." Elliot sighed heavily.
Juliet glanced quickly around the banquet hall.
For the first time in a while, she was free of prying eyes. The public's attention was fixed on the foreign ambassadors, resplendent in vibrant, exotic attire. Furthermore, not a single local aristocrat dared to openly approach her with provocation.
Only foreign guests occasionally glanced at her with mild curiosity.
*What if the Duke of Carlisle simply "swallows" the Marquis's entire legacy?*
Among the imperial nobility, there were those who watched Lennox's every move with keen interest.
"That's why it's crucial to act together. If the Duke asserts his claim now, he won't be able to seize everything unopposed." Elliot lowered his voice. "Even His Majesty must tread carefully around the Duke."
They did not oppose Lennox openly—but they did not hide their apprehension either.
"If it comes to a meeting of the nobility... there will be chaos," Elliot whispered, almost desperately.
"Though of course," he added with a note of pride, "your contribution in exposing the counterfeit magic stone mine was invaluable. Thanks to that, the entire market came under our control. But..."
"It would be even better if we could secure the Marquis's property outright." Elliot's eyes lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly!"
Juliet considered this.
"Do you want me to try gaining the support of the nobility?"
"Oh, no, no—I wouldn't dream of such a thing. I'd be grateful if you could simply convince His Grace."
"You're asking *me* to convince him?"
"He said he always listens to you, Miss Juliet."
She chuckled softly.
"Well... perhaps."
Elliot looked at her pleadingly. Juliet sighed and glanced toward where Lennox had been seated.
But his chair was empty. He had gone somewhere.
A strange silence had reigned between them for the past two days. Elliot had even wondered aloud whether they'd had a fight. Even in the carriage on the way to the banquet, they hadn't exchanged a single word.
"Elliot..." Juliet said quietly, then smiled again.
"Yes?"
"How many noble votes would you need?"
---