"......"
Carlisle bit his lower lip, feeling like an utter fool.
The reunion he had rehearsed countless times in his mind had become a colossal failure.
Throughout his search, he had repeated to himself over and over: *If I catch her, I will never let her go.*
But what about the child she claimed to carry? Did it even exist? And if it did—who the hell had dared to touch her? Had that man taken responsibility and become her husband? Or had the bastard abandoned her?
Questions multiplied endlessly in his mind, none with answers.
Yet instead of voicing them, he stood in silence, her hand gripped tightly in his.
Dozens of times he had rehearsed the promises he'd made to himself. Now that she stood before him, he wasn't certain he could keep any of them.
It wasn't that he feared killing a man whose face he didn't even know—a man whose death he had imagined dozens of times daily, in countless creative variations.
But Juliet was different.
The woman who had betrayed him. The woman who had fled.
Even in his darkest imaginings, he would never have dared to harm her.
"...What the hell is that outfit you're wearing?"
"Pardon?"
The hem of her skirt hung damp, as though she'd waded into water. Her shoes were nowhere to be seen.
"I'm... a little wet."
Juliet tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, looking embarrassed.
"Grrr!"
A soft growl drew his attention downward. A small black creature—somewhat like a weasel—had wrapped its long tail around her ankle and was glaring at him with unmistakable hostility, as though protecting her from a threat.
*What manner of devil's spawn is this?*
Lennox, who prided himself on maintaining absolute composure, found himself barely able to contain his emotions.
His heart ached with a volatile mixture of pain and fury—she looked at him as though he were a stranger. Yet beneath the turmoil, relief washed through him.
She wasn't hurt.
*Should I ask about the child?*
He didn't even know if he deserved the right to such knowledge.
Still, he wasn't opposed to adopting her child. He had no intention of passing the family legacy to his own offspring regardless.
Moreover, he had no desire whatsoever to force Juliet to bear him an heir.
So there was no reason for her to have fled so hastily. If she would only think it through, she would understand—she didn't need to abandon him to live well.
That was what he had told himself throughout the search.
But... what kind of nonsense had actually come out of his mouth?
His head overflowed with thoughts, yet the words he'd meant to say upon meeting her refused to form.
He didn't know how to express what he felt.
So all he could do was maintain this childish facade.
Could he possibly tell her that he was so desperate not to lose her that he had bowed his head before the Emperor himself? That he had prepared the most grandiose, most luxurious wedding the empire had seen in centuries?
How could anyone say such a thing?
"Well, I heard you're getting married soon."
"......"
"My sincere congratulations. Unfortunately, I won't be able to attend in person..."
"Why?"
"My presence would be... inappropriate."
"...Do you truly believe that?"
"Yes."
"......"
Lennox fell silent for a moment before speaking again.
"Juliet Montague."
"Yes, Your Grace?"
"What if I told you—"
"...Your Grace?"
"Without you..."
He hesitated, then forced the words through clenched teeth.
"What kind of wedding can there be without a bride?"
"...What?"
Juliet's eyes widened, as though she couldn't comprehend what he was saying.
Her expression spoke of overwhelming surprise—as if the notion of herself as a bride had never once crossed her mind.
Then, studying him intently, she asked:
"Why did you assume I would want this?"
"What?"
"I don't want to do this anymore, Your Grace."
*What did she mean by 'this'?*
But Juliet wasn't finished.
"You've always done this. It's the very essence of how you treat people."
Her voice remained completely calm.
Lennox might have believed she didn't understand, but Juliet saw him clearly. The occasional displays of false kindness, offered like charity. The crumbs of affection scattered just often enough to keep hope alive.
He could hardly have known how unhappy she had been. How pathetic she had felt during all those years at his side, waiting for reciprocal warmth, starving for even a modicum of genuine affection.
It was like dying of thirst in the desert while someone rationed her a few drops of water—just enough to keep her alive, never enough to satisfy.
"You don't need to apologize to me. You don't need to take responsibility for any of this."
Juliet understood him perfectly.
Lennox was naturally indifferent to others. He had always been this way.
There was no particular malice in him, no active hatred toward people. Simply... indifference. And there had been a time when she'd hated this trait in him more than anything else.
"You understand this as well as I do, Your Grace—even without my saying it. Our relationship had no future."
She still remembered clearly what he had said: *"Even if that happens, I will not let it live."*
"You said you don't want children."
"Damn it—I told you I was going to marry you!"
The words erupted before he could stop them. The moment they left his lips, Lennox regretted them. He hadn't meant to pressure her like this.
"Your Grace, when I have a child someday... I will not allow them to live the way I lived."
Juliet had always felt a twinge of envy watching women like Dahlia or Princess Priscilla—women who basked in the love of those around them, blissfully unaware of the suffering of others. People like them never had to worry about being discarded.
"Nothing will change if I return with you now."
*It will be the same thing all over again.*
"I don't want to live like this anymore. I simply want to do things my own way."
*I've had to endure so much.*
"You wanted this, didn't you?"
But even if you've been rejected, it's no great tragedy. Your lover has simply grown too exhausted for the role, so she's decided to surrender her place to someone who truly deserves it.
Faith in love had died in her long ago.
"I'm very sorry, but I think you shouldn't come to me anymore."
"......"
"I can't do anything for you."
At these final words, Lennox's face darkened. His lips pressed together so tightly they became a single colorless line.
"......"
"And Your Grace... may I ask a favor?"
Juliet spoke with perfect calm—as though she had no regrets left to shed.
"Would you mind giving me a ride back to town?"
"......?"
"My shoes... are hopelessly ruined."
The man who had been on the verge of abandoning all restraint—of dragging this wayward woman away by force—stared at her for a long, silent moment.
Then, as she had asked, he took her to the city.
And left without a word.
---
## — The Next Morning —
At dawn, Juliet—who had barely slept after Lennox's sudden appearance—led her dragon into the forest near the beach.
*There are rabbits and deer in these woods. A legendary creature like him should have no trouble finding food here. He could live peacefully in such a place.*
Deciding that distraction was the best remedy for useless thoughts about her former lover, Juliet turned her mind to finding the ideal habitat for the dragon.
The moment the baby found himself among the trees, he began exploring a small clearing with obvious excitement, his bright eyes darting curiously at everything around him.
But when Juliet tried to slip away—just a short distance, to test how he would behave alone—
"QYYYY!!!"
The little dragon squealed in terror and immediately scrambled toward her.
His legs weren't particularly long, and his wings remained too underdeveloped for flight. He stumbled and fell twice in his haste. But each time, he picked himself up and stubbornly continued his pursuit.
"...What am I supposed to do with you? Why do you keep following me?"
Juliet watched the baby with a mixture of exasperation and something softer. Even after reaching the beach, she couldn't bring herself to abandon him.
She sank down onto the white sand.
"I can't take care of you..."
Whether he understood or not, the little dragon pressed against her desperately, behaving like the most affectionate kitten. His face—if it could be called a face—revealed nothing intelligible.
*How can he possibly understand anything? He's only four days old.*
A sudden burst of tears—tiny, pitiful sounds.
"Q-q-q... q..."
The dragon cried sadly beside her while Juliet sat paralyzed with confusion, utterly uncertain what to do.
"It's hard enough for me to take care of myself, you know?"
"Kyun?"
"......"
Taking a deep breath, Juliet regarded the baby with a serious expression. She stroked his small head gently.
"...Alright. But only until your wings are fully grown."
She gathered him into her arms and held him like a child.
Did this dragon have any idea what an important decision she had just made?
"Q!"
But at that very moment—as Juliet rose from the sand, cradling the little dragon—he suddenly trembled with excitement. His tail began wagging furiously as he stared at something behind her.
---
## — Drowning —
*Splash.*
Shortly after returning from the lake, Lennox undressed with deliberate slowness and made his way to the bathroom.
The large chamber filled quickly with steam as he turned on the water and drew a bath.
Submerging himself in water hot enough to make his head spin, he closed his eyes.
It felt like drowning...
And indeed, he was drowning—in his own emotions.
*"Whenever we meet again, I will not let you go."*
He had repeated those words to himself countless times daily. If he found her, he would never release her.
*How could I have let her go?*
He had believed that even if a single hair on her head were threatened, he would never leave her alone.
That conviction had held firm—until they actually met.
*So you found her. Now what? Did you imagine everything would magically change the moment you saw her?*
He had been absolutely certain he could convince her. He had been arrogant, overconfident—because he believed she loved him.
Juliet Montague's naive affection had always been easy to discern. Even when disillusionment finally drove her to say she was leaving, she had remained honest about her feelings.
*"You've been kind to me all this time."*
What she truly meant was that she didn't want to spend her life worrying about being abandoned.
*"So let me go. Please."*
Was she actually saying goodbye? To *him*?
*What nonsense.*
Lennox snorted with hollow arrogance.
Why on earth should he let Juliet go?
She had been a convenient lover. Every time he reached for her in the past, she had accepted him gently, never refusing.
He had known she craved his love and attention like any woman might. Yet she had always understood the boundaries. She never crossed lines. She never tested his patience.
But... when had this started?
He struggled to identify the precise moment when the existence of a convenient woman—one who could be discarded at any time—had transformed into something he could never let go of.
He couldn't even describe how disgusting this feeling was.
*"Let me go, please."*
*"Haven't I been good all this time?"*
It had begun the very moment the silent woman—the one who had only ever known how to lower her gaze in humble acceptance—became the first to say goodbye.
That was when the wind had started blowing in the opposite direction.