"If you keep looking at me with that furious expression, I'll probably die," Lennox said slowly, watching Juliet nervously smooth her disheveled clothing.
"......"
Juliet didn't dignify that with a response.
Lennox didn't seem upset in the slightest. He appeared perfectly relaxed—even shrugging with casual indifference.
Meanwhile, Juliet was busy trying to unravel why he was behaving this way.
She knew he despised being bothered or inconvenienced more than anything else. She was also certain it was precisely because she'd never indulged in such behavior that he hadn't abandoned her—that he'd allowed her to remain at his side for seven years.
*It only ever irritated him before... Wait...!*
At that moment, a sudden realization struck her—a fact that had likely misled him and driven him to search for her in the first place.
"Ah. Now it makes sense."
Juliet sighed heavily and continued.
"I lied to you about being pregnant because I hate you."
"......"
"Did you hear me? There is no child."
This time, he didn't respond either.
Instead, he rose from his reclining position and helped Juliet to her feet, still holding her within the circle of his arms.
"Juliet," he called her name quietly.
"I..."
Fear tightened around her throat, choking off whatever she'd meant to say.
Even though she believed she'd done the right thing by choosing to leave, she had still fled. She had still deceived him.
It was obvious this lie had angered him enough that he'd crossed an entire continent to find her.
*Well, I can't help it if he's furious. I shouldn't have let my emotions control me—things could have ended differently.*
But when she finally looked at him, Lennox appeared surprisingly calm.
Instead of displaying anger, he leaned closer. Meeting her eyes directly, he asked with unnerving seriousness:
"Let me ask you one question. Have I ever told you that I don't want children?"
"......"
For a moment, Juliet was utterly speechless.
*"I'm not interested in that."*
*"Even if it happens, I won't let it live."*
In truth—in this life—he hadn't said those words yet.
"Juliet?"
Clutching the fabric of her dress in trembling fists, she remembered the voice she'd heard just before her return.
She was certain she recalled everything with perfect clarity.
Especially what had transpired the year she died.
In an instant, all his words and actions from that time—when Juliet, filled with fragile hope, had been expecting the birth of a child—flashed through her mind like shards of broken glass.
*"Did you really think you could hide this from me?"*
*"Juliet Montague, you could not have misunderstood me."*
"Juliet!"
When awareness returned, Lennox's face hovered so close to hers that their noses nearly touched.
"I..."
Juliet drew a deep breath to steady herself and unclenched her fingers, releasing the crumpled fabric.
"It's time for me to return."
With those words, she turned and headed toward the exit of the labyrinth garden—without once glancing back.
---
## — The Weight of Words Unspoken —
*"Let me ask you one question. Have I ever told you that I don't want children?"*
Why had he asked that question?
*You don't want them anyway. So why ask?*
Juliet bit her lower lip. She had no desire to receive any form of "permission" to bear or raise a child.
Every child deserved love. And Juliet had absolutely no intention of raising a child—one who didn't even exist yet—without it.
*I'm the only one who gets to decide this.*
Suddenly, an image surfaced unbidden: a man illuminated by moonlight, standing on the shore of the lake in Alghera.
Perhaps what he'd said then had been true. Perhaps he genuinely meant it when he claimed he would marry her.
But Juliet was too exhausted now to believe it—or to feel any joy.
*I don't want to.*
When Dahlia appeared, she would be cast aside again.
Juliet no longer cared why Dahlia hadn't yet materialized before him. The reasons didn't matter anymore.
For the first time in her life, she understood that she, too, could act selfishly.
She didn't want to remain with a man who would one day encounter the woman destined for him—and love her more than life itself.
The mere existence of such a woman was unbearable enough. Witnessing their reunion from the front row was unthinkable.
Though she walked back toward the banquet hall at a measured pace, her heart hammered wildly against her ribs.
---
## — The Festival Begins —
The festival in Lucerne—sacred city of the goddess—was a celebration enjoyed by countless people, offering abundant entertainment throughout its duration.
During this period, starting with the fencing tournament, activities like bullfighting, hunting, and even gambling were sanctioned.
For this reason, visitors from across the continent flocked to the festival each year.
Theo had explained to Juliet that after the festivities concluded, there would be a prolonged fast—a time for cleansing body and soul. So naturally, everyone sought to indulge before the week of abstinence began.
But Juliet found herself more preoccupied with thoughts of Lennox—whom she'd encountered the previous evening—than with the holiday itself.
What had he been thinking when he said all that?
*It's entirely possible it means nothing, and I'm simply overreacting.*
Juliet's gaze drifted to the elevated stands reserved for select guests from the forty-eight honored families, overlooking the arena where the fencing tournament would soon commence.
The seat assigned to the Duke of Carlisle sat directly opposite the one reserved for the Lebatan family—allowing Juliet an unobstructed view of his handsome face, should she choose to look.
Since their encounter in the garden, Lennox had made no further attempts to speak with her. In public, he gave no indication they were acquainted.
Even now, seated at a distance, he conversed seriously with the deputy commander of a knight squadron. He appeared utterly disinterested in the fencing competition about to unfold in the arena below.
"The tournament is about to begin! All participants, enter the arena in the order you are called!"
The referee's voice boomed across the stands, announcing the start of the sword competition.
*If you're not interested, then why did you even come?*
Juliet resolved to stop paying him any mind. After casting one final disapproving glance in his direction, she focused her attention on the tournament preparations.
---
## — The Golden Laurel Wreath —
The fencing tournament held during the festival was considered a historic event throughout the eastern region.
"The winner of the tournament will be solemnly presented with a Golden Laurel Wreath!"
Theo and Juliet sat together in the front row, watching the proceedings unfold.
It was her first time attending such a competition, so she observed the participants and spectators with genuine curiosity.
When Theo noticed her scanning the crowd, he asked:
"Hey—do you want to try some of what they're eating?"
"What? Oh, no."
He seemed to have misunderstood, assuming she'd been watching people consume various snacks in the stands.
"Then why do you keep looking around?"
"......"
Without answering, Juliet considered his question carefully.
*"So I decided to follow my own path as well."*
That was what Lennox had told her yesterday.
The moment she'd heard those words, her first thought had been for the safety of her newly discovered family.
*At this point, you probably don't realize I have people I cherish.*
Juliet understood Lennox intimately. He was a man who would do absolutely anything to obtain what he desired.
If he discovered what his opponent valued most, he wouldn't hesitate to exploit it mercilessly.
Even if he didn't yet know she'd found her mother's family, he would certainly uncover that information soon enough.
Unease crept through her at the thought that they might suffer because of her.
"Theo."
"Yeah, what?" Theo answered with casual rudeness, slowly sipping his wine.
"Live a long life."
"......"
The instant he registered Juliet's words, he choked in surprise and spilled wine down his front.
"Cough—cough...!!"
"Hey! What the hell are you doing?!"
Ethelid, seated beside him, immediately erupted in outrage as wine splattered across his clothing.
"Did you... eat something bad?" Theo wheezed, bewildered.
Juliet didn't answer. Instead, she turned to Ethelid.
"Ethelid."
"I'll live a long time. Don't worry, Miss Juliet," Ethelid said with a knowing grin—before she could extend the same wish to him.
---
## — The Tournament —
The sword competition was a tournament in which representatives from each honored family participated.
The rules were elegantly simple, with virtually no restrictions on entry.
All that was required of participants: victory.
In this respect, the eastern tournament differed dramatically from those held in the capital—where greater emphasis was placed on skill and technique rather than winning at any cost.
For this reason, the organizers had stationed an entire contingent of priests around the arena, assuring competitors that no matter how gravely they were injured, healers would be waiting immediately behind the barriers. They could fight without restraint.
While Juliet surveyed the assembled participants, her attention snagged on an unusual figure among them.
*Is that really...?*
The boy stood a full head shorter than the other contenders. His diminutive stature made him conspicuous among the crowd of fighters.
She recalled that in her past life, around this same time, rumors had circulated throughout the empire about a tournament champion—a young man from an impoverished background who had shocked everyone.
*What was his name?*
"Fabian Bordeaux!"
Just then, the judge—reading through the roster of participants—announced the boy's name clearly to the audience.
*Yes. I think that's the name I heard.*
Since gambling was permitted exclusively during the festival, the number of participants was staggering. Which meant the potential winnings from a successful wager could be astronomical.
Realistically, who would bet on this slight young man winning?
*Variables may differ, but cause and effect remain constant. If an opportunity presents itself... should I take it?*
While Juliet debated whether to risk placing a bet, she noticed another familiar face.
*Hm?*
Bright red hair that stood out even from a distance. A lean, disciplined figure. The severe lines of a knight's uniform.
*Jude?*
Juliet's eyes widened in shock.
It was unmistakably Jude Heyon—knight of the Duke of Carlisle.
And since the Duke was present, the right to participate in the tournament naturally belonged to him.
Jude was the Duke's youngest knight, which meant it inevitably fell to him to represent his lord at such events.
As Juliet stared, Jude turned toward the section where she sat—and their eyes met directly.
Juliet smiled broadly with unguarded joy, lifting her hand to wave—
But Jude's expression hardened abruptly. He turned away.
*Why...?*
He had definitely seen her. Yet for some reason, he'd deliberately avoided acknowledging her presence.
He must have been hurt that she'd left without even saying goodbye—they had been close, in their own way.
Juliet lowered her hand slowly, smiling with bitter understanding at how foolish she'd been to expect otherwise.