Early that morning, Juliet received a most unusual guest from the south.
"Pree-ee-ee."
"What on earth is this?" she asked, startled.
"A messenger bird, my lady," the servant explained with a slight bow.
The winged visitor had been trained to deliver correspondence across vast distances. It extended one slender leg toward her, revealing a short note secured with twine.
The message was brief:
> *Return as soon as possible. Do nothing dangerous. Wait for me.*
No details about the Duke of Carlisle's condition. No explanation of what had occurred at the Marquis's estate. Just these spare, commanding lines.
But Juliet understood the hidden meaning immediately: *Lennox is alive. He is unharmed. Do not worry.*
Since the letter had reached her at dawn, it meant Lennox himself would arrive in the capital within two days—three at most.
A perfectly ordinary message.
Until she reached the final line.
> *Trust no one. Until I return.*
These words had been added hastily, the ink slightly smeared, as though scrawled in desperate haste before the bird took flight. Juliet stared at the ominous postscript, her fingers tightening around the parchment.
The Lennox Carlisle she knew never made such warnings without cause.
*"No one"—does that include family? Friends?*
She paused, then lifted her gaze to find several pairs of eyes watching her intently. The Duke's secretary leaned forward with poorly concealed curiosity, clearly eager to learn the letter's contents.
"He's coming," Juliet said calmly.
"And?" someone pressed, unable to restrain themselves.
"He'll arrive within two days. He's uninjured and well."
"Is that all?"
"Yes." She folded the letter with deliberate care. "He requests that no one leave the mansion and that all remain safe until his return."
"Thank the gods."
"What a relief..."
The Duke's servants turned their attention to the other correspondence that had arrived that morning, though none contained information beyond what they had already heard.
"So he wasn't hurt. That's what matters most."
"It's wonderful news, my lady. Please don't worry yourself."
Juliet smiled—broad and serene.
"I'm not worried."
"I beg your pardon?"
She truly wasn't concerned about his physical condition. Her thoughts had already drifted elsewhere—to what would unfold when he returned.
*I'll need to speak with him.*
Because she had news of her own. Important news.
*About who is currently in the capital.*
---
Juliet turned toward the window.
While winter still held the North in its frozen grip, the capital—nestled in the continent's southwest—already breathed with the first whispers of spring. Warmth seeped into every corner, coaxing tender green shoots from the thawing earth.
*The Dahlia he has been searching for all this time was never in the south.*
*She is here. In the capital.*
*And what expression will cross Lennox's face when he sees her again?*
He had always insisted that Juliet never leave the mansion without protection. But now she needed answers—answers she had to find before his return.
*Did Dahlia truly conspire with the Marquis of Guinness to destroy me? What are her intentions?*
However, the moment Juliet attempted to leave the house, she found herself flanked by two extraordinarily persistent escorts: a mage from the Marigold merchant guild named Ashelrid, and her distant cousin Theo.
"Where exactly are you going?" Theo demanded.
"Why exactly are you following me?"
"You could at least show some gratitude!" he grumbled, falling into step beside her.
---
Today, Juliet's destination was the palace. She intended to discreetly uncover something vital.
The carriage delivered them swiftly, wheels rattling over cobblestones still damp with morning dew. But a problem presented itself immediately: Ashel and Theo, both armed, were barred from entering.
"Escorts must wait outside," the captain of the guard announced, blocking their path with an outstretched arm.
"What nonsense is this?!" Theo sputtered.
"Theo." Juliet stopped him with a gentle but unyielding tone, then turned her gaze toward the palace grounds.
Bright crimson banners bearing the Emperor's sacred symbols hung throughout the courtyard, their fabric rippling in the spring breeze. The Emperor's embassy had arrived in the capital, bringing the Holy Flame for the Full Moon Festival.
*Which means carrying weapons on palace grounds is strictly forbidden during their stay.*
"It's alright," she said smoothly. "We'll manage."
While Theo continued to argue and Ashel attempted to calm him, Juliet walked confidently through the main gate, accompanied by a servant girl in a modest bonnet.
"Who accompanies you?" the captain inquired.
In response, the maid lifted her cap slightly, revealing her face.
"She serves the Count's household," Juliet answered.
"You may enter."
They passed through without suspicion.
The moment they were safely inside, the maid reached up to remove her cap, but Juliet caught her wrist with a gentle grip.
"Don't."
"Why not?"
"If Dahlia recognizes you, there will be trouble."
Hearing this, Dolores tugged the hood lower over her face, fear flickering in her eyes.
The young woman hiding beneath the guise of Juliet's maid was indeed Dolores—the Marquis's daughter.
*Will that woman recognize her?*
*If Dahlia truly manipulated the Marquis... then yes. Almost certainly.*
*We need only confirm her face from a distance and leave. Nothing more.*
Dolores had once been imprisoned in the clock tower until Juliet rescued her. Since then, she had remained hidden within the Count's household, a ghost of her former life.
Juliet felt no particular sympathy for the girl who had once been bought and used as a weapon against her. But neither did she harbor any hostility. Dolores had been a pawn, nothing more.
And today, Dolores served a purpose.
She was one of the few who could confirm that Dahlia had incited the Marquis to commit his atrocities against Juliet.
---
Dressed as maids, the two women made their way toward the Empress's chambers.
"Evil lurks in your hearts!"
"Beware the poison of desire! Purify your flesh!"
Knights in crimson tunics marched through the palace grounds, their voices echoing off marble walls. They were the Archbishop's personal guards—the Paladins.
The Spring Full Moon Festival had officially begun the moment a high-ranking priest arrived from Lucerne bearing the divine flame.
That explained why clergy seemed to occupy every corner.
"The celebration comes rather early this year..."
"I heard the Pope himself intends to make an appearance..."
Courtiers murmured and gossiped as they passed.
Juliet, who had never visited the capital during spring before, observed the spectacle with quiet interest.
*Ashelrid mentioned this. The Empire's authority is crumbling—scandal upon scandal eroding public trust.*
*The Emperor orchestrates this grand festival hoping to demonstrate the dynasty's greatness and silence the growing discontent.*
"They say a prophecy was discovered in the temple..."
*If such a prophecy were confirmed, it would place the Emperor in an extremely precarious position.*
*Considering the Church already posed a threat to the throne, the emergence of any prophecy would be deeply unwelcome to the Crown.*
---
"Oh! Countess Moned!"
At the entrance to the Empress's chambers, elegant tables had been arranged for refreshments. Several ladies seated at one of them noticed Juliet and rose to greet her.
A few remembered their awkward encounter from the past and responded with stiff, forced smiles.
"I didn't expect to see you here."
"Have you also come seeking a blessing, Countess?"
"A blessing?" Juliet tilted her head.
"Yes, indeed. The Archbishop is currently in audience with Her Majesty."
Through the open terrace doors, Juliet could see the scene clearly: the Empress sat in regal composure while across from her, draped in crimson robes, the Archbishop spoke in measured tones.
Surrounding them stood the Empress's most trusted courtiers—her valet, her closest friends, her inner circle.
Juliet's gaze drifted across the gathering, then stopped.
A woman with luxurious golden hair stood at the Empress's side, close enough to suggest intimacy and favor.
Juliet looked closer, her pulse quickening.
*It seems everyone is eager to receive a blessing from the lips of the holy father.*
*But only the most trusted ladies at court are permitted to approach him.*
Having no need for blessings, Juliet chose a secluded spot near a pillar and settled into a chair.
And then it happened.
Dolores seized Juliet's sleeve, her fingers trembling with barely contained agitation.
"It's *her*!" she whispered urgently. "That woman!"
"Who?" Juliet breathed.
"The one the Marquis worshipped!"
The curious ladies nearby immediately perked up:
"Oh my—who is this girl?"
"My maid," Juliet answered smoothly, then turned back to Dolores, lowering her voice further. "Are you absolutely certain?"
"Yes! I saw her clearly—I could never forget that face!"
Dolores spoke in a breathless rush, flustered and overwhelmed. She couldn't even recall the woman's name, but her face—that face was seared into memory.
"The Marquis *worshipped* her! Like she was a goddess descended from heaven!"
With mounting fervor, she described how Dahlia had lived in her father's house. How she had whispered secrets in his ear. How she had taught him the forbidden art of transforming living souls into magical stones...
Juliet studied Dolores thoughtfully for a long moment.
*Until recently, this girl couldn't even remember Dahlia's name.*
*But the instant she glimpsed her from across the room, everything came flooding back.*
*Just like me.*
Juliet's own memories had been fragmented, scattered like shards of broken glass—until the moment she saw Dahlia again. Then everything had returned with terrible clarity: her face, her words, the horror of what had transpired in the eastern tower.
Dolores's account was lengthy, but the essence was this: the Marquis of Guinness had followed Dahlia as though ensorcelled, treating her every word as divine revelation.
"But why is she *here*?" Dolores asked, genuine bewilderment clouding her features. "In the palace itself?"
Juliet's eyes narrowed, fixed on the golden-haired figure standing so comfortably at the Empress's side.
"That," she murmured, "is precisely what we're about to discover."