"Have you heard about this yet? How could something like this happen *here*?"
"Yes, of course. I didn't expect such a brazen intrusion either."
Following the incident, the snow fox hunt had been hastily cancelled—but surprisingly, no one appeared disappointed.
Even the Emperor, who relished this time of year more than any other and always awaited it with impatience, seemed to have lost all interest in his annual entertainment.
As soon as dawn broke the following day, influential aristocrats who had stayed overnight in the imperial palace hurried toward the audience hall. Burning with curiosity, they took turns attempting to peer inside.
"He turned out to be far more human in appearance than I expected."
"You're absolutely right. To be honest, he doesn't look nearly as fearsome as the rumors suggest."
Instead of gathering in the warm banquet hall—which the Empress had carefully decorated for the occasion—people chose to stroll the palace grounds despite the biting cold. The hall sat practically empty. It seemed no one wished to miss the unprecedented events about to unfold.
"I have come to meet the Emperor."
"…Proceed."
The head of the imperial palace guard granted entry to the delegation that, for the first time in recorded history, had formally requested an audience with His Majesty.
It was a delegation from the Lycan people.
Representatives of this enigmatic race—whom most knew only from ancient legends—looked tall and striking in their pristine white robes.
***Boom.***
When the doors to the audience chamber slammed open, the Lycan delegation entered. Roy stood prominently among his fellow tribesmen.
"I am Romeo Bascal, son of Lord Hebaron."
At the same moment, Juliet—seated in the far corner of the audience hall as a witness, observing everything from the sidelines—realized she had gravely miscalculated.
"Oh—"
Elsa, standing beside her, drew a sharp breath.
Juliet glanced at Elsa briefly, understanding that it had been *she* who informed Roy of what had transpired.
In this precarious situation, Juliet's position remained uncertain. The Emperor and the assembled aristocrats did not yet know what sort of relationship she maintained with the uninvited guest.
After all, she had been the werewolf's target when he invaded the Emperor's private hunting grounds. The Second Prince and his companions had merely suffered because they'd happened to be nearby.
The Emperor, however, remained ignorant of this detail. He knew only that the werewolf had trespassed onto his domain, harmed his son and the Prince's companions, and attempted to harm Countess Montague.
And now Roy had arrived on an official diplomatic visit to the palace.
He wore an unusual ceremonial robe—one Juliet had glimpsed only once before. It resembled the vestments worn by high priests in antiquity.
But Roy bore an expression Juliet had never witnessed. Throughout his entire exchange with the Emperor, he didn't glance at her even once.
"Lord of this realm, surrender him to me."
The Emperor flinched slightly upon hearing the voice of this young man from another people, who regarded him with those unusual amber eyes.
"…*Hmmm.*" The Emperor drew himself up, his expression majestic and stern. "Do you comprehend what your fellow tribesman has *done*?" Without awaiting a response from the head of the Lycan delegation, he continued indignantly. "Not only did he violate the sanctity of my palace grounds, but he also harmed my son and attempted to harm a citizen of my empire!"
Though the entire situation struck the Emperor as absurd—particularly the final accusation—he betrayed none of this sentiment outwardly.
A delegation from the Lycans.
Strictly speaking, they were all representatives of a foreign royal house. But the fact that their spokesperson was so *young* made those assembled profoundly uneasy.
Roy listened to the Emperor's speech without altering his expression in the slightest. Then he replied calmly:
"That is precisely why I ask you to surrender him to me."
"Did you truly *hear* what I just said?" the Emperor demanded, his voice sharp with anger. But Roy remained unruffled.
"Permit me to punish him according to the laws of our people. I will personally ensure that he is hanged, and his limbs amputated. Only then will he adequately atone for his crimes."
The assembled nobility stood stunned, mouths agape, upon hearing the proposed punishment.
"No—isn't that excessively harsh…?"
The Second Prince, who had been slumped beside his father with a martyred expression, instantly sat upright.
In truth, the Prince's injuries were superficial. None of his companions—Juliet included—had sustained serious harm.
To put it plainly, the primary damage was material: the warehouse in the hunting grounds had been utterly destroyed. And to be fair, *technically* it had been Juliet who destroyed it by detonating the gunpowder.
"I will compensate you for the material losses caused by our kinsman with gold equal to his weight."
With these words, Roy kicked the heavy sack positioned beside him. Glittering coins spilled across the polished marble floor in a dazzling cascade.
"Ah…"
After such extraordinarily generous compensation, all envoys from the Lycan people were immediately elevated to the status of honored VIP guests.
---
After departing the audience hall, Juliet settled into one of the chairs tucked in a corner of the banquet hall.
Since the envoys and the Emperor had begun discussing logistics for transporting the criminal, her presence was no longer required.
The banquet hall was less crowded than anticipated—until Roy entered.
"Juliet."
Scanning the room swiftly, he located her with his eyes and strode directly toward her—as though he had managed to slip away from the audience chamber for only a brief interval.
"Elsa told me you were here."
"Hello, Roy," Juliet replied, glancing past his shoulder at the throng of people who had surged into the banquet hall behind him.
Roy's appearance suited the glittering hall perfectly—but the situation was far from ideal for private conversation.
"You look pale."
His gaze touched hers for a heartbeat before he stepped away briefly to procure a glass of warm spiced wine.
"Drink this."
Though Juliet accepted the glass, she never raised it to her lips—merely ran her tongue across them absently. She seemed to be the only one who felt awkward under the weight of so many prying eyes.
Roy bit his lip and asked, concern etched across his features:
"Are you all right? Elsa said you weren't injured, but—"
"I'm fine."
The Roy she had observed earlier in the audience hall had vanished. Now he was once again the gentle, affectionate Roy she knew.
"Roy, I'll speak with you later. There are too many curious eyes here," Juliet replied with careful reserve, glancing discreetly around the room.
Roy seemed utterly indifferent to her words—as though he didn't care who might be watching. Suddenly, he dropped to one knee before her.
"Juliet."
She opened her mouth to tell him to rise immediately—but he spoke first.
"…Do you not like me anymore?" Roy asked hesitantly, taking her hand in his.
Juliet was rendered speechless. This was decidedly *not* the time or place for such questions.
"…What Graham did… If after this you say you no longer care for me—"
"Roy."
Juliet sighed softly, then attempted to redirect the conversation.
"This werewolf named Graham—he's your brother, isn't he? The one who went missing?"
When she posed the question, Roy studied her face before answering reluctantly:
"Yes. Graham is my third brother."
"He said he came for me. To take me to the Silver Forest."
"I know. I'm deeply sorry for that."
"Why did you two quarrel?"
"…Because he spoke ill of you, Juliet."
Roy didn't appear to be lying. In truth, Graham had been hurling insults from the very first moment of their encounter.
*But it seems there's more to it than that,* Juliet thought, searching Roy's beautiful amber eyes.
*[Human woman, you have no idea how terribly he treats me. Compared to him, what I'm about to do is nothing…]*
Juliet doubted Roy could commit acts as cruel as Graham had implied. But she couldn't help wondering: how much did she truly *know* about the man named Romeo Bascal?
Sweet. Affectionate.
But that was all. Juliet had to admit she knew precious little about Roy beyond his gentle demeanor.
"Are you angry with me because of Graham?"
Roy's cautious question made him resemble an abandoned puppy—so pitiful one couldn't resist reaching out to comfort him.
Juliet found herself extending her hand to touch his cheek without thinking.
"No. I just suddenly felt sad seeing you so troubled."
"…I have never lied to you."
But Roy suddenly said something peculiar.
"Unlike *him*. I'm nothing like him at all."
*But Lennox never lied to me,* Juliet thought with bitter amusement.
"When you withhold the truth, it is not necessarily a lie."
If you possess knowledge you ought to share but choose instead to conceal it—you are simply deceiving the other person.
Juliet couldn't shake the persistent feeling that Roy was still hiding something significant from her.
"…But Juliet, you're not telling me everything either," Roy observed, regarding her with unexpectedly cold eyes.
"Roy—"
"So please, just wait a little longer. I'll explain everything soon…"
Then he pressed a light kiss to the back of her hand and whispered—as though speaking to himself:
"I will not hurt you the way *he* did. And I will never abandon you."
---
Shortly after Roy returned to the audience chamber, Juliet—left alone—became lost in thought.
Though Roy had looked miserable, she didn't truly have time to devote to comforting him. Beyond Roy's emotional state, she had numerous other pressing matters demanding immediate attention.
She was relieved the butterflies had finally returned. But the strange name of the key—*"Snowdrop"*—remained an unsettling mystery…
"This is simply *remarkable*, Miss Montague."
Juliet slowly raised her head as a sarcastic voice sounded beside her. People she was decidedly *not* thrilled to encounter had gathered around her before she'd even noticed their approach.
"Frankly speaking, I sincerely admire you."
Juliet, however, held an entirely different opinion regarding the woman who had spoken.
*Why do situations I never wish to experience keep happening one after another?* she thought wearily.
"Now *that* explains everything."
"And I was wondering why the Duke rejected you so abruptly…"
"After all, there was an excellent reason for it."
The eyes of those hungry for scandal gleamed with anticipation—like cats who had cornered a mouse.
"Miss Montague, does this mean the rumor was *true*?"
"Who would have imagined your bed is already warmed by another man…"
"We all knew the Duke would eventually discard you."
"And I heard you attempted to recapture the Duke's attention afterward. Is *that* true?"
"Oh, it's likely just rumor—because, as we all witnessed, you share a remarkably *intimate* relationship with this young man, the delegation's representative."
Juliet suppressed a bitter laugh at the malicious taunts raining down from every direction.
*Oh, good Lord—they're so excited, like ravenous dogs with a bone dangled before their noses.*
Among those assembled, not a single person stood ready to defend her. It was glaringly obvious that this time, Juliet would be unable to escape an ugly scene where her detractors dragged her reputation through the mud.
Juliet knew only two methods to deflect this unwanted scrutiny.
The first: Lennox Carlisle would need to take a new mistress. Then people would swiftly lose interest in her and fixate instead upon his fresh conquest.
But that wasn't something Juliet could influence—so only one option remained.
*I'll simply admit it's true. I'll never see these people again anyway.*
It was all she could do under the circumstances.
Juliet rose quietly from her seat. In her hand, she still held the glass of wine Roy had given her earlier. When she stood, people flinched—as though expecting her to hurl it at them.
But Juliet had never even considered resorting to such crude tactics.
If they intended to pierce her with their thorns until she bled, so be it. The crucial thing was preserving her pride. That came first.
Juliet opened her mouth, summoning as much courage as she possessed.
"Yes. You're correct. The reason the Duke notified me of our separation is—"
"*No.*"
A soft yet commanding voice suddenly cut through her declaration.
Those who had been staring at Juliet with eyes brimming with malicious expectation whipped around in confusion.
"As I recall, *I* was the one who was notified of the separation. Or is my memory failing me?"
The air seemed to crystallize as people confirmed the identity of the man standing at the entrance.
The Duke of Carlisle had arrived.
---