As soon as word spread that the Marquis of Guinness had escaped from prison, the capital erupted into chaos.
Meanwhile, Juliet sat calmly in the palace salon, the windows deliberately thrown wide open.
"Have you heard the news? The Marquis of Guinness... last night..."
"Wasn't this the Duke of Carlisle's doing, by any chance?"
Someone ventured the suggestion cautiously, but the others dismissed it with skepticism.
"Ha! What are you talking about? Didn't you know? The Duke insisted on bringing the Marquis to trial from the very beginning. He held a principled position."
"Exactly. It would have been easier for him to wait until everything settled on its own. Why take the risk?"
"If Guinness simply vanishes, it gains us nothing..."
"Yes, you're right. It makes no sense."
Listening to the conversation drift through the open window, Juliet allowed herself a small, private smile.
*Lennox's insistence on a proper trial is paying dividends. People are beginning to believe in his innocence.*
"Then who is behind this?"
While the crowd debated, a breathless man hurried toward Juliet.
"Please, Your Grace—do me this favor," he said as he approached.
Juliet took his arm easily, as though they were merely strolling together after a ball.
"Erase the name of the Marquis of Guinness," she said quietly, steel threading through her voice. "As if he never existed."
She paused.
"And ensure that nothing ever grows on his lands again."
In exchange, she offered:
"I will help you find what you've been seeking for many years."
"What I want?"
"Yes." She caught the particular glint in his eyes. "What you're searching for in the South. It's the Duke's family heirloom."
---
## — The Emperor's Refusal —
While the seven-day festival continued, the Emperor tried in vain to keep the Duke of Carlisle in the capital.
"I won't permit you to use the Gate," he declared upon learning that the Duke intended to travel to the southern Marquis's estate.
But Lennox was not one to follow orders.
"I don't require the Emperor's permission."
"But without the Gate, the journey will take *weeks*..."
Indeed, traveling south without a portal would consume a full fortnight. Juliet frowned at the thought. But Lennox quickly reassured her.
"Don't worry. I've secured access to another Gate."
Juliet found this entirely characteristic.
*No wonder the Emperor's relationship with him was so complicated—equal parts admiration and irritation.*
This alternate Gate was located remarkably close to the Guinness estate. Though the route from it led through a deserted forest, the path was sound.
Juliet had already selected a horse for herself when someone stopped her.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"What?" She blinked in surprise.
Lennox's expression was stern.
"The horse is faster than the carriage."
"Get down."
He was clearly angry, and Juliet was puzzled—but she didn't argue. Reluctantly, she climbed into the carriage. Only when he was certain she was safely inside did Lennox give the command.
"Move out."
The cortege was small: one carriage and eight knights.
After some time, Lennox suddenly asked:
"Why did you flee on horseback that night?"
"Hm? Ah..."
Only now did Juliet understand what he meant.
*He remembered... that night.*
In her past life, when she had discovered she was pregnant, she had fled the Duke's castle in desperate haste.
*"I will help you,"* Dahlia had promised then.
It was thanks to her that Juliet had escaped unnoticed. Dahlia had opened the stables.
"That was the first and last time we spoke," Juliet murmured, as though thinking aloud. "She lived in the East Tower."
"Who is she?" Lennox asked sharply. "Who opened the stables for you?"
"The woman who lived in the East Tower..."
He didn't seem to recognize the name.
Juliet grew thoughtful.
*Did Lennox ever see Dahlia in his memories?*
---
## — The Note —
The next morning.
Waking in a humble peasant cottage, Juliet found a note resting on her pillow.
"Well...?"
"What do you mean, 'well'?"
"You *left* me? Just like that?"
"No, that's not—" Elliot, the Duke's secretary, tried desperately to explain. "His Grace... he is concerned for your safety, Miss Juliet!"
He attempted to stop her, but without so much as glancing at him, she slowly tore the note in half.
"Scoundrel."
Resentment seethed in her chest.
*From the very beginning, she had found it suspicious how easily he'd agreed to bring her south. After all, Lennox had previously been adamantly opposed—knowing full well what she had endured in the Marquis's house.*
But now he had discovered the location of the hidden vault—from a dream, when she had let it slip while drunk. And he had departed without her, leaving only a message:
> *I'll handle it myself. Return to the capital with Elliot.*
"Who does he take me for?" Juliet whispered.
*Even if she still feared the memories of the Marquis's violence, it was her choice whether to return or to see this through. Not his.*
A commotion arose outside. Voices. Hoofbeats.
"Ah! It sounds like the knights have arrived!" Elliot brightened and rushed out.
"Who's there?" Juliet followed.
Deep down, she hoped Lennox had changed his mind. But the figures at the gate were not those who had departed earlier.
"Sir Cain!"
She couldn't contain her joy.
"Long time no see, miss," the man greeted her with characteristic dryness.
It was Cain—her old fencing instructor.
"You... you came from the North?"
"Yes. To escort you."
Seeing a familiar face after such a long separation, Juliet was reminded anew of how Lennox had abandoned her. Anger surged fresh and hot.
"Ah, so *this* is the famous Duchess our mentor speaks of?" A young man with a cocky expression drawled the words with a sly grin, executing a lazy half-bow.
"Pack."
"Jerome, apologize to the lady for your behavior," Cain snapped, seizing the youth by his collar.
Jerome frowned with displeasure but complied nonetheless.
"You're such a bore. Fine. Hello. I'm Jerome."
Juliet didn't return the greeting. Instead, she inclined her head slightly and addressed Cain with interest.
"Who is this?"
*She knew all the knights of the duchy—but this one's face was utterly unfamiliar.*
"New recruit. Mercenary. As you can see, no one bothered to teach him manners," Cain muttered, not bothering to hide his annoyance.
Though there was less irritation in his voice than simple, bone-deep weariness.
---
## — The Forest Road —
Later, as the squad moved through the forest on their way toward the capital, Jerome turned to Juliet with an unexpected question.
"Did you know, my lady, that terrible creatures dwell in forests like these?"
"Creatures?" she asked, feigning curiosity.
"Indeed! For example—insect monsters appear frequently in the southern woodlands!"
The knights riding alongside him clearly tried to silence him, realizing he was veering into nonsense. But Juliet deliberately affected fear and stopped them with a subtle gesture.
"Insect monsters?" she repeated, her voice quavering.
"Yes! And sometimes you encounter giant spiders—or *centipedes!*"
"Centipedes?" she gasped, turning pale. "I cannot *abide* anything with more than two legs..."
She performed her terror so convincingly that even Cain and the other knights—who knew perfectly well she had participated in monster hunts in the North—exchanged bewildered glances.
And Juliet herself, playing out this little comedy, imperceptibly shifted her gaze to the flask dangling from Jerome's saddle.
*Most likely it contained highly fermented alcohol—a delicacy for any creature with a sensitive nose in these woods.*
"But you, Sir Jerome, can protect me, can't you?" she asked with an innocent smile.
"Um... well, I... yes, of course!" He faltered, then rallied.
Juliet regarded him with a mocking, condescending look.
And then, as if on cue:
"Hmm... I didn't really mean to boast, but I once caught a centipede monster myself!" Jerome began smugly—then stopped mid-sentence.
His expression froze.
The entire squad halted. Everyone turned in the direction Jerome was staring.
Something was emerging from the undergrowth.
Grotesque. Multi-legged. Snapping mandibles.
A *real* centipede monster.
The very same kind he had been describing moments ago, like horror stories from a children's tale.
Jerome went rigid, his face draining of color. He looked as though he believed the creature might vanish if only he remained perfectly still.
"Well, how convenient, Sir Jerome," Juliet said, not bothering to hide her wicked smile.
"It seems it's time to show us what you're made of."
---