Juliet was not at home when Roy returned to her estate.
According to the maid who answered the door, she had gone to the imperial palace and had not yet returned.
"Really? I see."
Juliet's servants were remarkably friendly toward Roy, so the maid immediately offered that he wait inside.
"The mistress will be back soon. Would you like to wait for her in the living room?"
Though Roy was graciously invited to enter and make himself comfortable, he politely declined and walked slowly toward the exit of the mansion grounds.
The secluded residence of the Countess of Montague, situated on the outskirts of the capital, presented a picturesque landscape. It was surrounded on all sides by towering trees that grew right up to the entrance, creating a natural screen of privacy.
*So she's at the imperial palace.*
Roy felt somewhat foolish for the relief that washed through him upon hearing those words.
Drawing a small glass bottle from his pocket, he turned it over absently in his palm.
Juliet often asked him about the forest—posing various questions whenever they met.
Roy was delighted to see that she wanted to know more about his homeland, and every time he visited, he brought something that might interest her.
Sometimes these were rare medicinal herbs, impossibly difficult to acquire no matter how much coin one offered. Other times they were unusual flowers that grew only in remote corners of the continent where human feet rarely tread.
Roy glanced at the small glass vial. This particular gift would be especially intriguing to Juliet—it contained a medicinal herb with a powerful soporific effect.
A moment later, he heard the clatter of hooves against cobblestone. A carriage appeared in the distance. Roy grinned and waited for it to draw to a halt beside him.
"Juliet."
But as soon as he glimpsed the face of the woman stepping down from the carriage, his expression reflexively hardened.
"…Were you crying?"
"No. I wasn't crying."
It was glaringly obvious at first glance that Juliet *had* been crying—but she stubbornly insisted otherwise, regarding him with reddened eyes.
*You're lying.*
But instead of voicing this observation aloud, he simply frowned.
*It can't be… the Duke isn't dead, is he?*
Realizing immediately that couldn't possibly be true, Roy reconsidered.
If an ordinary person had been in the Duke's position, perhaps death would be inevitable. Because ordinary people were weak. But the same logic did not apply to the Duke of Carlisle. Not remotely.
Roy had known of the Northern Duke's existence since childhood.
Though the ruler of the North had never personally encountered the tribes from the eastern forest—because he led a solitary existence and rarely ventured beyond his territory—Roy understood that Lennox was fundamentally different from ordinary humans.
He was a direct descendant of an ancient bloodline that had endured for a thousand years.
And somehow, inexplicably, he was connected to Juliet.
Which was exceedingly unfortunate news for Roy.
Furthermore, Roy's foolish brothers had recently discovered that the woman he'd fallen in love with was human—and they had naturally ridiculed him mercilessly.
But Roy didn't care what they said about him or how loudly they laughed. They were still weaker than him. Giving them another sound beating would be sufficient to silence them.
The *real* problem was this man.
Roy vividly remembered competing against him in a sword fight in the banquet hall.
*He's really, truly annoying.*
At that moment, for reasons he couldn't quite articulate, Roy felt his throat go dry. A peculiar thirst began to torment him.
"Juliet, where did you go?"
When he asked the question casually, he noticed she remained silent for several heartbeats before answering.
"My friend…"
"What?"
"I went to visit an old friend because I was told he was ill."
Juliet, remembering Elliot's urgent request to keep the Duke's condition secret, invented a vague story about a sick acquaintance.
There was no particular need to hide it from Roy—but it wouldn't have been wise to mention Lennox's name. Roy clearly disliked him.
Roy's expression immediately turned cold, as though he'd guessed precisely who this "friend" was.
"Oh, I only went to check on him. Nothing more."
"Hmm. I see…"
---
Only after returning home did Juliet remember she hadn't said a single word to Lennox about what had actually happened to *her*.
In truth, she had intended to tell him about the disappearance of the butterflies—but she'd completely forgotten the moment she learned of his condition.
And yet, even if she had stayed there with him, what could she truly have done?
She wasn't particularly skilled at caring for the sick. She would have made a terrible nurse. Besides, there was a highly competent physician attending the Duke who could certainly care for him far better than she ever could.
Instead, she resolved to do everything within her power to help him recover.
*That's better than sitting there crying, isn't it?*
Though they didn't yet know the precise nature of the curse, the Duke's physician had suggested that with overwhelming divine power, it could potentially be shattered—much like breaking a barrier.
Juliet had pondered this ceaselessly during the entire journey back to her mansion.
*Xenovia's Soul Stone… If only there were a way to retrieve it, then perhaps there would be a chance.*
In fact, this was the only solution Juliet—who possessed no divine powers of her own—could conceive.
*Since Xenovia was an unrivaled genius, perhaps she could break the curse afflicting Lennox.*
Of course, this problem wouldn't be easily resolved.
*This is all my fault. What happened to him is entirely because of me.*
Juliet felt profoundly responsible for Lennox's condition. And so she believed she had to do whatever it took to cure him.
"Roy, do you happen to know where Xenovia's soul stone is now?"
At this question, Roy studied Juliet closely. The question alone seemed to reveal what she intended to do.
"…I know."
Roy intuitively understood that this would lead to Juliet getting herself into trouble again. He wondered what her reason was for doing such a dangerous thing.
"I heard that an important priest was going to transport it here, to the capital."
"An important priest? So it's no longer in Lucerne?"
"I believe it was done for security reasons—to hide it as far as possible from the site of recent unrest."
*It sounds like it was transported to the capital's main temple.*
As Juliet fell silent, lost in thought, Roy suddenly asked an unexpected question.
"Juliet, do you love him?"
"…What?"
"Juliet, you told me earlier that you couldn't allow yourself to love anyone. So why are you doing this…?"
Roy spoke with unusual emphasis, his voice carrying an edge of anger that starkly contrasted with his typically mischievous tone.
"No."
Juliet's answer was immediate and decisive. Roy, who had been extremely tense, felt suddenly embarrassed.
"It doesn't matter whether I love him or hate him. That's not the issue at all."
Juliet sighed softly.
There was a high probability their relationship would remain misunderstood even if she tried to explain everything.
She understood intellectually that all the events from her past life had not yet occurred in this timeline.
*Nevertheless, the central figure in those events is the same man.*
Of course, Juliet couldn't treat Lennox as though nothing had happened. But at the same time, she couldn't hate him with her whole heart.
Even though she had believed she could never love him again, during those seven years together, love for him had always resided in her heart. Remembering her first life, she had been terrified of being wounded in the same way—so she had fled before it could happen again.
Even Lennox, who had lived beside her for seven years, did not fully grasp the reason she'd had to leave.
But now that the future had changed, their shared past would forever remain only in Juliet's memories.
"Now that there's bright light in my life, I'm simply trying to move forward without looking back," Juliet said calmly.
She didn't want to see the man who was arrogant enough to hide his wounds and shut himself away in a darkened room anymore.
"A bright light in life…"
Roy laughed slightly at this remark, then took Juliet's hand in his.
"It can't be helped if you say so. Let's go."
Juliet blinked in surprise.
"But this is my problem. You don't need to help me with it—"
"Absolutely not."
Roy grinned, his eyes narrowing mischievously as though he were about to do something delightfully sneaky.
"If we're talking about the light of life—well, I have one too."
---
Late evening.
The hour when services in the temple were in full swing.
Young priests walked the temple grounds carrying censers that swung like pendulums, sending thin trails of fragrant smoke curling into the air.
The incense spread slowly throughout the sacred space, filling every corner with its heady perfume.
That evening, the high priest of the capital's main temple was positively beaming—not even attempting to conceal his joy.
The Duke of Carlisle, who had stolen the Eye of Argos from him some time ago, had apparently decided to return it—and had sent it to Lucerne.
The high priest desperately wanted to ask the Duke whether he had *deliberately* chosen the wrong location for the return, but ultimately decided it would be unwise.
The relic had originally belonged to the Bishop of Lucerne, so he couldn't very well complain about the incorrect destination.
Instead of directly confronting the Duke of Carlisle, the head of the capital's temple had sent several plaintive letters to Lucerne, beseeching them to forward the relic. However, he had never received a single response. The bishop hadn't even sent a brief acknowledgment—which the high priest found exceedingly rude.
But now, the Eye of Argos no longer troubled the high priest in the slightest.
"It's the soul stone! I've only heard tales of them, but I've never seen one this magnificent before!"
The high priest stared greedily at what lay nestled within the small lacquered box.
He'd glimpsed soul stones a few times in his career—but this was the first one so large, so brilliantly colored, and so perfectly formed.
"Ah, High Priest—speak more quietly, please. Only you and I should know that the Soul Stone is being kept here in the capital."
"Oh! Yes, of course."
He bowed hastily to his companion, who regarded him with mild disapproval.
The one who had brought the soul stone to the capital was none other than Holy Father Gilliam.
It was he who had proposed the plan to keep the divine object hidden until the consequences of the recent scandal were properly addressed by the bishop.
*Who would have thought that all of Sebastian's so-called divine power actually came from this soul stone?*
For the priests of Lucerne, this had been a deeply unpleasant revelation.
The immense divine power contained within the soulstone had been wielded by a charlatan. When it was revealed that for several years, a notorious scoundrel with absolutely no divine power had been masquerading as bishop, it had come as a genuine shock to many.
"I will be eternally grateful if you care for it for a time."
"Don't worry! It will be perfectly safe here."
Father Gilliam and the high priest were preparing to leave the ritual chamber—having concealed the box containing the soul stone upon the altar—when they suddenly heard an unexpected sound.
The high priest flinched violently, then cried out:
"W-who's there?!"
Both he and Father Gilliam whirled around in alarm, hearing the soft rustle of skirts behind them.
A woman stood before the altar, her face completely obscured by a black veil. She had opened the small box they'd left upon the sacred surface.
"……?"
"W-who… who *are* you?!"
Both priests were so profoundly shocked by this unexpected apparition that goosebumps of fear rose involuntarily across their skin.
How could this woman be standing there when no one had been present mere moments ago? Was she a ghost?
But then the unknown figure in black calmly addressed the head of the capital's temple.
"Good evening, High Priest."
She sighed softly, then drew back her black veil to reveal her face.
"No—it's you… my lady…?"
Father Gilliam seemed to recognize her first.
"Miss Montague!"
The high priest also recognized Juliet and gasped in utter astonishment.
Since he had long held the position of head temple priest in the capital, he was well acquainted with the Countess of Montague.
"What are you *doing*?!"
However, instead of appearing embarrassed or panicked, Juliet summoned every ounce of composure to her aid. Carefully concealing all emotion behind a mask of cool indifference, she spoke with a casual air:
"I'm here to retrieve the Soul Stone. You'll lend it to me, won't you, Father Gilliam?"
"…I'm very sorry, but I cannot do that."
Gilliam was mildly surprised that Juliet knew his name.
"The Soul Stone is the property of the Bishop."
Juliet shrugged casually and pointed a finger at the glowing gem.
"To be precise, it belonged to the late Xenovia."
"…She died in an orphanage in Lucerne."
"Well, I knew you would say that."
Juliet nodded calmly.
"But you seem to have misunderstood me. I am not here seeking your *permission*."
*This all seems somehow familiar… I feel as though I've experienced something similar before…*
The hidden implication of these words caused the high priest genuine alarm. It felt eerily like a situation that had occurred not so very long ago.
---