***Explosion!***
The instant Juliet released the arrow at the lamp, she threw herself through the back door without hesitation.
"—!"
She managed to escape the hungry flames, but the sound of the blast was so deafening it lashed against her eardrums like a physical blow. The scorching shockwave punched the air from her lungs and nearly swept her off her feet.
At first, all hearing vanished—replaced by a strange, growing roar that drowned out everything else.
"Ah…"
Juliet staggered forward until her knees buckled and she collapsed into the snow. She struggled upright, but her body refused to cooperate. Every attempt to quicken her pace brought waves of nausea and sudden, violent dizziness.
Any person with common sense understood that playing with flammable gunpowder in a confined space—especially in winter—was extraordinarily foolish.
"I'm very fortunate that wolf lacks common sense…"
In truth, the werewolves dwelling in the Silver Forest to the East had no conception of how dangerous gunpowder could be, simply because they never used it.
Fortunately, on the imperial estates, hunters regularly employed the substance to kindle fires when the wood was damp. Hanging sacks of the powder could be found in nearly every storehouse and rest house throughout the grounds.
*Oh God, I had no idea the shockwave would be this severe…*
Juliet's legs trembled violently, and she crumpled back into the snow.
With an explosion of such magnitude, people should already be rushing toward the scene. She could only hope the rest of the hunting party hadn't ventured too deep into the forest—otherwise, the wait would be agonizingly long.
If the procession was somewhere nearby, they would soon discover the Second Prince and his unconscious companions. And then her…
But Juliet had failed to account for one critical detail.
"***G-R-R-RAAAAA!!!*** You little *bitch*—!!"
Werewolves possessed incredible regenerative abilities. They could not be killed so easily.
"……"
Juliet raised her head and stared with disbelieving eyes toward the source of that enraged scream.
Graham burst from the burning warehouse with his back still ablaze, his form partially shifted into something between man and wolf. Patches of charred flesh already knitting themselves together before her eyes.
The werewolf was so consumed by rage that he seemed to have lost all control. His entire bearing spoke of a single, murderous intent: to pounce on Juliet and tear her to bloody pieces.
Meanwhile, Juliet found herself utterly speechless at this display of monstrous regeneration.
Her face went white as the snow beneath her. She blinked in shock.
She was so exhausted that escape was impossible.
*Oh God. I think I'm actually going to die this time.*
That was all she could think.
Then, quite suddenly, her body went limp. A terrible weakness flooded through her limbs, and her eyelids—suddenly impossibly heavy—began to droop. Slowly, inexorably, they closed.
And then—
In the middle of the snowy forest, a barely audible flutter disturbed the silence. A single small butterfly appeared, its delicate wings emitting a mesmerizing bluish glow.
Graham, who had been about to launch himself at the fallen human woman, froze the instant he spotted it.
"What… what the *hell* is this?"
The number of butterflies multiplied at an impossible rate—dozens becoming hundreds, their luminous wings illuminating everything around them with brilliant azure light. No ordinary creature could reproduce so rapidly.
"…?"
They were beautiful, like a vision from a dream. But Graham, watching them drift closer, felt only all-consuming terror.
He didn't understand the source of his fear. He only continued to watch them warily, his predator's instincts screaming of danger as they approached.
"*AAAAAAH—!*"
A moment later, when they reached him—when they *consumed* him—a deafening scream erupted, loud enough to shake the very trees.
And then, as the scream faded, the forest returned to peaceful silence once more.
---
Juliet opened her eyes to find herself sitting in the middle of a vast, white emptiness.
*Just moments ago, I was in a snowy forest…?*
The image of the menacing werewolf advancing toward her was the last thing she remembered.
*If I passed out lying in the snow, I could freeze to death,* Juliet thought with strange calm—not yet realizing that something extraordinary was happening to her.
*Creak.*
An enormous door materialized before her—one whose existence she hadn't suspected until that moment. It opened slightly, and from the gap, a single small blue butterfly fluttered out. Then several more followed, drifting lazily through the white void.
"Oh—!"
Admiring the graceful butterflies dancing around her, Juliet suddenly realized she had seen this door before.
As she studied it, one of the butterflies alighted on the back of her hand, slowly folding its wings before spreading them wide once more.
In that instant, the empty white space vanished as though it had never existed. The surroundings transformed completely.
Looking around, Juliet found herself in achingly familiar surroundings.
The white void had become a bedroom. She sat upon a luxurious bed bathed in golden sunlight—the Duke's bed—and she was crying silently, her head bowed.
She didn't understand why this was happening, but she felt as though the world had collapsed in a single devastating instant.
*Ah. This must be a memory of that day,* Juliet realized.
So it was something like a kaleidoscope of memories—the kind that surfaces just before death?
Juliet felt a pang of bitterness.
If this truly was such a kaleidoscope, why had *this* particular memory emerged? It wasn't from her present life, but from the one before.
"…Now you should feel relieved."
The words rose unbidden from the depths of her memory, and Juliet's lips spoke them of their own accord.
Though no one else occupied the room, she turned her tear-streaked face toward the doorway.
"Because the problem has disappeared."
The face of the man standing in the threshold was hidden in shadow. It was impossible to tell whether his expression reflected his usual coldness and indifference—or something else entirely.
No matter how desperately Juliet strained her memory, she could not recall what expression he had worn that day.
---
"…I'm sure you'll be fine… You're just sleeping, which means you'll wake up soon."
When Juliet regained consciousness, the first thing she heard was a quiet male voice murmuring near her ear.
She opened her eyes to identify the speaker—and immediately felt a gloved hand touch her cheek.
"Juliet."
The touch was possessive yet cautious, like someone handling a piece of fragile glass.
She knew the man who had spoken her name—who now regarded her with those distinctive blood-red eyes.
But instead of answering, Juliet fell silent when their gazes met.
"……"
The scene from her dream lingered before her eyes, and she found herself desperately wondering about the expression on the man's face—the one she hadn't been able to see.
The memory of that day was so painful that Juliet had been unable to forget it, even in her second life.
Yet she possessed no recollection of his expression whatsoever—as though someone had forcibly excised that fragment from her consciousness and shattered it into hundreds of millions of pieces.
It shouldn't have mattered so much. And yet the thought of the expression on his face as he stood silently in that doorway lodged firmly in her mind, refusing to leave.
"…Lennox."
She would have loved to ask him directly. But unfortunately, that was impossible.
Even if she posed the question, he couldn't answer—because it had only happened in her previous life, of which he knew nothing.
Could a person describe feelings they had never experienced? Could they speak of a moment they had never lived?
Of course not. These were Juliet's memories alone, preserved only within her own mind.
She attempted to rise, to extricate herself from Lennox's embrace—but was immediately stopped.
The arm encircling her tightened instantly, and a sharp question cut through the air.
"What are you doing? Don't move—you'll fall."
"Ah?"
Only then did Juliet notice how high off the ground she was.
They were riding together on horseback, and Lennox held her with one arm, pressing her firmly against his chest.
But that wasn't all.
She discovered that she was wrapped in a cloak—wound around her in so many layers that she could barely move.
Moreover, Lennox's face, gazing directly at her, was so fierce it sent shivers racing down her spine.
And this man—who seemed capable of killing with a single look—was staring straight at her.
*What's wrong now? Why is he looking at me so angrily?*
However, Juliet wasn't entirely frightened by his expression. She remained dazed from her dream, old feelings stirring from the distant corner of her mind where she had buried them.
She glanced around absently and spotted the knights of the imperial palace riding directly behind them, their polished armor gleaming in the fading light.
Piecing together everything she observed, Juliet was finally able to reconstruct roughly what had transpired after she'd lost consciousness.
After she fainted in the forest, people from the palace must have heard the explosion and come to investigate. They found her there.
*But how did Lennox end up here?*
Her mind remained foggy, her thoughts sluggish and slow. It didn't even occur to her to ask whether his vision had recovered—a clear indication of how thoroughly the dream had disoriented her.
*Oh—they're back…?*
It wasn't merely the sunlight making the knights' armor sparkle.
Only when she focused her gaze on that familiar blue shimmer did she identify the source.
Butterflies fluttered all around her, their delicate wings beating as gracefully as ever. Their presence made their earlier disappearance seem like nothing more than a fleeting illusion.
"You've returned."
And yet, she found it strange that their sudden reappearance coincided with her dream of the past.
"What happened to the werewolf?"
"…Did that beast harm you?"
"It's not polite to answer a question with a question," Juliet remarked casually, attempting to shift her position slightly. The close contact with his body was deeply embarrassing.
Lennox felt her movement and tensed.
"Nothing significant. He didn't harm me."
After a moment, she noticed the sky darkening overhead and realized with surprise that they were still deep within the forest. Based on her old memories, she was certain they remained within the imperial hunting grounds.
But regardless of how much time had passed since she was found—or how far into the forest she had fled while escaping—they should have glimpsed the lights of the imperial palace by now.
Instead, they appeared to be traveling in the *opposite* direction, venturing deeper into the woods.
*Where is he taking me?*
"Lennox."
Juliet spoke his name with a soft sigh and tugged lightly at the collar of his jacket to capture his attention.
"Please stop."
"No."
"Let me go. Now."
Despite Juliet's pleas, Lennox refused to release her. Like two opponents locked in a standoff, they exchanged dagger-sharp glances—but neither spoke another word.
---