Father Solon appeared to relish walking through the banquet hall with a majestic air.
"We're especially delighted to welcome a member of the royal family to our celebration this year! Your presence makes this gathering shine even brighter!"
As he circulated through the hall, he carefully sought out guests of the highest rank. Approaching each in turn, he would strike up conversation with an overly familiar manner—as though they were old friends.
However, despite the fact that humans and Lycans held vastly different concepts of royalty, Roy didn't bother correcting him.
"Roy, are you truly a prince?"
"Yes..."
When Juliet posed the question, Roy looked thoroughly embarrassed.
*Does that mean Roy could one day become the Lycan King?*
Juliet studied him with fresh eyes, reconsidering everything she knew about him.
But then she dismissed the thought, recalling that he'd mentioned having an older brother.
Behind Roy appeared Nathan and Elsa—whom she already knew—along with three other members of his clan she'd never met.
*Are all the members of their clan this tall and striking?*
Juliet had been impressed by their appearance when she'd encountered them in the darkened forest. But here, beneath the brilliant light of crystal chandeliers hanging like enormous spiders from the vaulted ceiling, their presence made an even more powerful impression.
Among them, Elsa stood out particularly. She wore an exquisite gown with a plunging neckline, her golden-brown curls tumbling freely down her back. Despite the considerable number of beautiful women filling the room, this dazzling beauty attracted far more attention from male guests than all the other representatives of her sex combined.
"Hello, Juliet!"
"It's wonderful to see you again, Elsa."
The two women greeted each other warmly, as though they were old friends.
Since that night two weeks ago—during the full moon celebration in Alghera, when Roy had departed on urgent business—Juliet still had no idea what had transpired.
She glanced sideways at Roy, standing beside her.
*Were you able to resolve that situation?*
She had worried that something might have befallen Elsa, since she hadn't been with Nathan at the time. But fortunately, she appeared unharmed and in excellent health.
"Phew~phew~"
"Why are you laughing, Elsa?"
"Juliet, you still smell absolutely wonderful."
"...Do you mean strawberries?"
"Huh? How did you know?"
"You told me yourself last time."
"Elsa...!!" Nathan exclaimed through gritted teeth, seizing her hand and pulling her firmly toward the doors leading out to the garden.
Apparently, he'd decided she needed fresh air—by this point, she'd emptied an entire bottle of wine and was noticeably drunk.
Juliet's face—which had been bright with amusement as she watched the two werewolves depart—froze abruptly when her gaze accidentally landed on one particular guest.
"Excuse me. I'll step away for a moment."
She apologized to Roy and swiftly followed the figure she'd just glimpsed into the garden.
---
## — The Garden Labyrinth —
In the meticulously maintained garden maze, hidden from prying eyes, impatient lovers were already enjoying clandestine meetings in secluded corners beneath the cover of darkness.
At one point, Juliet accidentally stumbled upon one such passionate couple and lost sight of the person she'd been pursuing.
She tried to locate them again, but in the semi-darkness, it proved nearly impossible to see clearly.
Back in the banquet hall, she had definitely seen her.
*That face...*
A small, fragile figure in a white priest's uniform. Red hair catching the light.
It had definitely been Dahlia.
"Oh!"
Juliet—who had been walking quickly while scanning her surroundings instead of watching her feet—suddenly tripped over something.
Directly before her sprawled pink vines covering this section of the garden like a lush, flowering carpet.
Falling onto those thorny blooms would hurt. It would certainly leave scratches. But it was too late to bemoan her carelessness.
Since there was no preventing it, Juliet squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the pain to come.
"...?"
But even after several seconds passed, the anticipated pain never arrived.
Only then did she realize she had fallen against someone's solid chest.
"Hello, Juliet."
"...Your Grace?"
Of all the people in the world, he was the absolute last person she wanted to encounter right now.
"I'm... I'm sorry... I tripped accidentally..."
At that moment, Juliet thought with annoyance that she'd been mistaken when she'd assumed Helen had chosen the perfect dress.
The tight corset had prevented her from eating anything all evening, leaving her lightheaded. Moreover, though the gown was beautiful, it severely restricted her movement.
Still, she knew this wasn't the time to faint while lying atop her former lover. She attempted to rise.
But no matter how Juliet struggled, she couldn't manage it—because it seemed she was the only one who wanted to.
She found herself in a hopeless situation: the man upon whose firm chest she was rather comfortably settled could do whatever he wished with her.
"Is this wolf cub named 'Roy'?" Lennox asked slowly, gently intercepting Juliet's hands each time she tried to push herself upright.
*Oh, hell...*
As it turned out, he still remembered the name he'd heard weeks ago at the lake in Alghera.
"Yes, that's him!" Juliet replied with irritation, as yet another attempt to stand failed.
"Do you love this puppy?"
"Your Grace!"
"Answer me, Juliet."
"......"
"Or perhaps he's even promised you a queen's crown?"
Juliet found herself utterly confused by his words.
*A queen's crown? What is he talking about? No—wait. Why is he being so insistent? He's never acted like this before...*
"Answer me, Juliet."
---
## — Among the Roses —
"...Your Grace, why are you here?" Juliet asked, deflecting his question with one of her own.
"You told me yourself..."
Lennox seemed thoroughly unwilling to rise from his bed of roses. Instead, he smiled coldly and wrapped one arm possessively around her waist.
"That you would do everything your own way," he continued calmly while she remained silent.
"......"
"So I decided to follow my own path as well."
"...Your Grace."
Juliet searched desperately for some rational explanation for Lennox's behavior. But no matter how thoroughly she considered it, she couldn't find one.
*You don't love me anyway. So stop this.*
"Roy is just... a friend."
Hearing her answer, Lennox released a quiet laugh that sent shivers cascading down her spine.
"Good. And does this wolf cub regard you the same way?"
Suddenly, his fingertips brushed against her cheek. It was the gentlest touch—like someone handling a fragile treasure they feared might shatter.
"I kept wondering. Why did you do this to me?"
"...What?"
"Juliet, you wanted to hurt me, didn't you?"
She considered the question for a moment.
*Did I want to hurt him?*
Yes. She had wanted to wound him.
But even when she'd resolved to leave this man who didn't love her—even in that moment when he'd tried to hold her back and she'd pushed him away—
She had thought: *Please remember me.*
It didn't matter how she would remain in his memory. The most important thing was that he not forget her entirely.
Even if remembering her brought only anger—as long as she occupied some corner of his heart, nothing else mattered.
"Tell me. Did you love me? Even a little?"
"......"
*Did I love you even a little?*
What an absurd question.
Juliet laughed bitterly.
Would she have stayed with a man for seven years if she hadn't loved him?
Especially beside the man who had so brutally killed her in a past life?
"Your face."
"What?"
"I simply really liked your face."
Let him believe the reason was nothing more than his handsome features.
"That's all," Juliet purred, a charming smile curving her lips.
Her expression left no doubt she meant it—and that if it weren't true, she never would have remained at his side.
The Duke of Carlisle went motionless. His face twisted as though in physical pain.
Deciding the conversation had finally ended, Juliet placed her palms against his chest and tried once more to rise.
"Still soft..."
But just as she began to push upward, Lennox caught her wrist and pulled. She tumbled back down.
"What are you—?!"
She meant to scream, *"What are you doing?!"* But Lennox suddenly shifted, raising his upper body, and her cry was cut off mid-breath.
At the same time, his long fingers wrapped around her palm and squeezed tightly.
"I warned you, Juliet."
"......"
"You must seize the opportunity and act—strike until you're absolutely certain your opponent has stopped breathing."
Juliet tried to pull away, flinching at the harsh words. But he only tightened his grip.
"Strike without hesitation."
Then, abruptly, Lennox released her hand.
With one swift motion, he loosened the pins holding her hair in place, letting the chestnut strands tumble free. With his other hand, he drew her waist closer.
"And now I'm going to kiss you. So if you don't want that—kill me."
Only after hearing those words, delivered in a tone as hard as steel, did Juliet fully comprehend her situation.
At some point, a dagger with a wickedly sharp blade had appeared in her hand—the very hand he'd been gripping moments before.
"You know how to do it. I taught you myself."
At this remark, old memories surged through her mind.
During her years with Lennox in the North, he had taught her various skills that might prove useful if her life were ever in danger.
The Duke of Carlisle had countless enemies. She had been his official mistress for seven years—a position that made her a potential target as well. She'd needed to learn how to handle herself in perilous situations.
*"If you have an opening, never hesitate. Act immediately. Only then can you survive."*
Since she had remained with him longer than any of his previous lovers, he had also taught her self-defense techniques—how to deliver quick, effective strikes capable of killing.
But now, Juliet froze. Unable to move.
She was certain that if he shifted even slightly in their current position, he would bleed to death.
"...!!"
Instinctively, she tried to push Lennox away with her free hand.
But he refused to release her. Instead, he seized her wrist with one hand, forcing her to tighten her grip on the dagger's hilt. Then he pressed the blade harder against his own chest.
He angled the tip until it rested against his throat.
The distance between them closed until they were near enough to count each other's eyelashes.
"What are you doing?!" Juliet cried, genuinely terrified.
In this position, she couldn't even withdraw her hand—she feared that moving even a millimeter would cause him grievous harm.
The magic sword sheathed at his side resonated and groaned, as though warning of mortal danger to its master.
Then Lennox leaned closer, intent on kissing Juliet—who was so shocked she could barely draw breath.
He seemed utterly unconcerned by the blade pressed against his skin.
*Contact.*
Feeling the light brush of his lips against hers, Juliet instinctively tried to pull away. But she froze, overcome by the achingly familiar scent of him.
The moment Lennox sensed her resistance faltering, he deepened the kiss—capturing her mouth completely. At first, his movements were leisurely, almost coaxing. But gradually, they turned more passionate. More demanding.
Juliet unconsciously closed her eyes, swept away by sensations that robbed her of will and coherent thought.
After what felt like an eternity, Lennox finally broke the kiss.
Juliet exhaled softly, gazing up at him through clouded eyes.
"Putting my life on the line for a kiss from you..." Lennox murmured, grinning shamelessly. "It isn't such a bad deal, is it?"