"Duke? Didn't you come... to negotiate?"
The Marquis of Guinness, increasingly losing his composure, finally forced himself to speak.
"Negotiate?" Lennox Carlisle tilted his head slightly, as though hearing a word that had long since lost all meaning to him.
"That might have been possible... before you cursed an innocent woman."
"C-cursed?! What are you talking about... I... I don't know anything!" The Marquis's voice cracked as his fingers clutched desperately at the iron bars.
The Duke calmly withdrew a small glass bottle from his pocket and placed it between the bars.
"I think you'll recognize this."
The Marquis's eyes went wide, his pupils trembling.
"How... *how?!*"
Inside the bottle, something dark and translucent writhed like smoke—like something *alive*.
*He couldn't be mistaken. It was a spiritual parasite—the same one they had sent to seize control of Juliet Montague's mind just days ago.*
"This... is impossible..." he whispered, unable to tear his gaze from the glass prison.
None of the spirits sent to Juliet had ever returned. He and Solon had concluded that she must be completely possessed. It had seemed logical—the ability to stop such entities was said to have vanished from the world centuries ago.
And yet... the creature in the bottle was real.
And it was *alive*.
"The mages told me something rather interesting," Lennox remarked, his voice cool and unhurried.
The young dragon, sensing something amiss, had brought the spirit to him. The Duke had immediately summoned his finest mages, who had enthusiastically explained the nature of the Curse of the Full Moon.
"It's an ancient spell, long since forbidden," they had said. "It erases the will, transforming a person into a puppet. But the price for failure is terrible. A well-known curse... and it does not forgive mistakes."
Lennox shook the bottle gently.
The creature inside went berserk, scraping frantically against the glass.
"If the spell is broken, the backlash against the caster is amplified many times over."
"This can't be..." the Marquis breathed.
*Now he understood. He had no idea what had become of Archbishop Solon after the ritual. He had been completely isolated from the outside world.*
"They say the limbs begin to rot," Lennox continued, examining the writhing shadow through the glass.
The Marquis stumbled backward, as though the small creature might shatter its prison and pierce him. A memory surfaced unbidden—the image of slaves whose bodies had been subjugated, twisted and broken.
Real panic seized him.
"I... I didn't know! I was deceived! Listen! Duke of Carlisle, *please* listen!"
His voice cracked into hysteria. He had participated in the ritual only because he had been certain the curse would leave no trace.
But now... Carlisle had proof.
"But I'm not going to use it."
"...What?"
"Just answer honestly. It's in your best interest."
The Marquis fidgeted, utterly confused. And then—the question was nothing like what he had expected.
"Is there a punishment room in your mansion?"
"Wha... yes. Yes, but... it hasn't been used in years!"
"How many people did you kill there?"
Lennox asked it as though he had witnessed it with his own eyes.
The Marquis was stunned.
*Has the Duke already searched the mansion? Has he found that place?*
*That can't be... Is he truly so righteous? So I killed a few women—what of it? It's none of his concern!*
He chose to deny everything.
"Whatever you've heard is a lie! Yes, I have such a room, but to claim I murdered people there—that's *ridiculous!*"
And then—a flash.
At the far end of the prison corridor, a torch flared to life.
One. Then a second.
"What the..." the Marquis whispered.
This prison was reserved for high-ranking captives. And now, he was alone in it.
Lennox had ordered all guards withdrawn beforehand. Only the two of them remained here.
But the flames moved along the empty corridor, drawing steadily closer.
"I... I didn't kill anyone! I don't understand what's happening!"
Meanwhile, a weapon materialized in the Duke's hand—a long, pitch-black blade.
The Marquis recognized it instantly. They said it was a legendary sword with a will of its own.
"Listen, Duke!" he screamed, clinging to the bars. "Why are you doing this?! I... I'll give you everything! Just don't kill me!"
Carlisle silently returned the bottle to his pocket.
"Don't be afraid. You won't die... right away."
"W-what...?"
***Click.***
The fireplace opposite the cell erupted into flames, flooding the chamber with blinding light.
And in that light, the Marquis saw the Duke's face.
There was neither pity nor rage in those crimson eyes.
Only icy, absolute calm.
"You'll simply suffer... until you *wish* for death."
***Rrrrrrr...***
There was no one else in the cell.
But a low, animalistic growl echoed unmistakably through the stone.
"W-who's there?!"
The Marquis whirled around—and then noticed something else.
Something *wrong*.
The blazing fireplace illuminated the cell as though it were midday. But in that light, impossible things appeared:
On the walls—dozens, *hundreds* of shadows.
Alien. Impossible. Without bodies.
They surrounded him, pressing in from every angle, as though bleeding through from another world.
"Hrk—!"
***Slap.***
The Marquis of Guinness didn't understand what was happening.
Before him, carved from ice, stood the Duke of Carlisle.
The Marquis himself was already on the floor, his body twisted at unnatural angles.
"You're so *noisy*," Lennox said, almost lazily.
*When had the door opened?* Unknown. But now it stood wide open. And the Duke's boot pressed gently—but inexorably—against the Marquis's chest.
The Marquis looked up into Carlisle's eyes, silently begging for mercy.
But he could no longer speak.
"I'm not one to show mercy."
The firelight cast deep shadows across the Duke's face. His features, stern and focused, seemed almost monastic—like those of a man who had glimpsed an absolute truth.
"You'll regret not dying immediately."
Then the prison filled with a heart-rending scream.
---
## — The Morning After —
Juliet woke when the sun was already high above the horizon.
"Ugh..."
She tried to rise from the bed—and immediately collapsed back against the pillows.
"Why does my head hurt so much?"
*It felt as though someone were stomping around inside her skull in iron boots.*
***Knock-knock.***
"Yes?"
A familiar figure appeared in the doorway—someone who might shed light on everything that had happened.
Elliot, looking every bit the composed butler, held a tray of tea in his hands and peered hesitantly into the room.
"Um... are you awake, miss?"
"Yes... come in."
Juliet quickly smoothed her hair before gesturing him forward.
"How are you feeling?"
"Couldn't be worse."
Elliot gently recounted the events of the previous night.
"You returned quite late..."
"Oh..."
And the memories came flooding back.
She recalled drinking with the Daltons—servants from the southern Marquis's household—and extracting information from them piece by piece.
If her guesses and the couple's recollections were accurate, she now knew where the Carlisle treasure was hidden. The very one Lennox had been searching for all these years.
It was on the estate of the Marquis of Guinness.
But now...
"I'm going mad..." she groaned, remembering how Lennox had practically dragged her to the carriage.
"I... told him something strange..."
She remembered the journey—but had no idea how she had arrived at the mansion.
A quiet anxiety crept into her chest.
While Juliet sipped the broth Elliot had brought, she said softly:
"Elliot... I want to go south."
"Pardon? You only just returned from there!"
But Juliet had already made up her mind. Now that she knew where the treasure was concealed, she couldn't remain idle.
Especially while the Marquis was imprisoned. This was a golden opportunity.
"Why do you wish to go?"
"I need to find something very important."
"Perhaps we could send knights in your stead?"
She considered this for a moment, then shook her head.
"No. I have to see it for myself."
*It wasn't a matter of trusting the duchy's knights. It was simply... the truth was waiting there. The truth about everything.*
"But His Grace won't permit you to leave..."
She was about to say she didn't need the Duke's permission—but her body still refused to cooperate.
"Furthermore, the Emperor has personally announced that he will assume temporary management of the Marquis's estate. Until the investigation concludes, no one may set foot there."
"*What?!*" Juliet exclaimed.
Just yesterday, she had half-jokingly promised Elliot her help in securing a position on the Council of Nobility...
But now she *genuinely* needed to reach the Marquis's mansion.
*The hidden storage room is there.*
*And perhaps... Dahlia is there too.*
---