Chapter 107
Chapter 107
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 107
Chapter Title: What Do You Want?
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"What do you want to do?"
Lennox rarely asked such questions—she could count them on one hand.
Juliet knew from past experience that she had to be careful answering this one. Last summer vacation, she'd said she wanted to go boating...
"In the end, we couldn't go boating."
Far from boating, they'd canceled the rest of the schedule and returned to the ducal residence.
That incident had left quite a scar on her too. She'd fallen ill right after, and when she woke up, this man had told her he'd bought a ship.
"You said you wanted a boat, right?"
But a little rowboat drifting on the lake and a massive galleon were worlds apart.
"Juliet."
The duke called her name, as if urging a reply, and Juliet felt a twinge of unease.
What's he scheming?
But she wasn't naive enough to trust him outright and blurt out a wish.
Still, she didn't want to mingle with crowds.
Holing up in the bedroom at the villa for days on end was out too. *It's only a few months,* she thought, but no good excuse came to mind.
At this rate, she'd be dragged along at Lennox's whim.
"Ah."
As she pondered, Juliet spotted the servants downstairs cutting oil-soaked red paper.
They were preparing them to hand out to the mansion's guests gathered in the greenhouse. It was an old winter custom.
"Could I have some of that paper?"
When she went downstairs and asked, the servants gladly shared it with her.
It was a common children's game in winter—folding paper lanterns to pray for good fortune. In truth, they were hung to guide far-off travelers so they wouldn't lose their way.
Hang a lit paper lantern by the window, and it was said to ward off misfortune and bring luck through the winter.
"Here you go."
Juliet handed a large, long sheet of red paper to the man standing beside her, who looked puzzled.
"……What am I supposed to do with this?"
"Fold it."
"I asked what *you* wanted to do."
"I want to make these."
Seeing his expression darken, Juliet quickly added,
"Together."
"……"
Lennox looked utterly baffled, but Juliet felt oddly satisfied.
Not bad for an on-the-spot solution. At least it wouldn't waste money pointlessly.
No one would get hurt, and most importantly, no bruised feelings.
She didn't mind if Lennox thought it ridiculous. He might regret the silliness and leave her alone from then on.
But as Juliet perched on the windowsill and deftly folded a paper lantern, Lennox simply watched her from the side.
Juliet wasn't much for crafts. But these red paper lanterns? She made them well. She had fond memories of folding them with her parents every winter. Though she always got scolded for playing with fire.
"You made it so pretty."
A servant glanced over and praised her. But the man standing there, paper still clutched in his hand, said nothing.
Only then did Juliet realize he'd left his exactly as she'd given it to him. She blinked in confusion.
"You don't know how to fold it?"
"No."
Juliet blinked again.
It was the first time she'd heard him admit he didn't know how to do something.
"You've never done it before?"
"No."
She felt a bit flustered.
At first, she thought he was joking, but Lennox Carlisle wasn't one to kid about things like this.
Now that she thought about it, she'd never once seen paper lanterns hanging by the windows in the northern ducal residence.
But it's a northern custom?
It struck her as profoundly odd that the North's greatest noble didn't know it.
Juliet stared at him, at a loss for words, and he raised one eyebrow in clear annoyance.
"Do I really need to know?"
Well, no, but...
"But every citizen of the Empire knows it."
Don't kids try folding paper as children?
Didn't your mother teach you? She nearly said it.
Then it hit her.
Given the ducal family's cutthroat traditions, even if the previous duke and duchess had been alive, she couldn't picture them happily folding paper lanterns together.
Fair enough. She doubted this man even knew how to fold a napkin.
Juliet decided to salvage the situation. The mansion servants had started sneaking curious glances their way, which was getting on her nerves.
"Hand it over."
Juliet grabbed a few more sheets and led him to an empty drawing room.
She half-expected him to scoff at the childishness or bail midway, but he followed without protest.
It was a strangely novel experience.
While staying in the North, Juliet had learned plenty from Silver—crossbows, riding, brutal but practical survival skills.
She'd even absorbed bits about how the knight order ran, just from eavesdropping. But teaching *him* something? This was a first.
"Fold it like this. Got it?"
Snap!
She unfolded it, and the hexagonal shape sprang to life.
Juliet demonstrated slowly once more for good measure. But the man across the table, chin propped on his hand as he peered down, merely flicked his gaze up.
"I don't get it."
"Just hand over whatever you folded."
"No."
Juliet frowned and snatched the finished one from his hand.
"Why?"
"Because it only means something if you make it yourself."
Lennox shot her a look, then grudgingly replied.
"Fine."
His large hands fumbling with the paper looked awkward, but his sharp eyes and steady hands didn't fail him.
He produced the shapes just as she directed. Neatly, without a single rough edge—disappointingly perfect.
"Now hang it by the window."
"Boring."
He griped, but Lennox obliged all the same.
"Boring? My mom said it keeps colds away all winter..."
Mid-protest, Juliet clamped her mouth shut awkwardly.
She blinked quietly.
"Hang it there, please."
Lennox couldn't make sense of her reaction but said nothing. He hung the paper lantern where she pointed.
"This'll ward off misfortune all winter."
Lennox didn't believe paper could fend off bad luck.
He felt no pang of loss or deprivation over a childhood he'd never known.
It was an emotion he'd never experienced. Still, watching the woman smile softly at the hung lantern stirred a strange thirst in him.
**
Roy stood in the center of a forest clearing.
In woods so dense no light pierced through, Roy gazed quietly down at his feet.
A massive gray-brown wolf lay collapsed beneath him.
"You, you...! You arrogant bastard!"
Graham glared daggers at Roy, but he couldn't twitch a finger.
Even the forest folk, unbound by laws, strictly forbade killing blood brothers.
Yet Roy couldn't forgive this fool Graham, who'd nearly wrecked his plans for good. He'd come *this* close to losing Juliet.
"What's your damn problem?"
Roy irritably ground his foot into Graham's chest.
"Urk!"
"With me."
"You called me half-baked before."
Graham groaned from underfoot, but Roy didn't so much as blink.
The clan was led by Hevaron, or so it was said.
In truth, real power had long passed to Hevaron's youngest son, Romeo.
It was mere formality—respect for a dying father, or cover for ulterior motives.
Roy's brothers chafed at the arrangement.
Roy was the last-born heir of their generation.
Compared to his settled older brothers—who'd claimed positions, even sired children—their baby brother was just a hotheaded brat.
Graham, Roy's elder, secretly wished Romeo would never find a mate.
Then, for all his strength, the pup would stay immature forever.
"So I marked her and found a mate, just like you wanted."
"Kuhuk...!"
Tch. Roy clicked his tongue in disgust.
The Lycanthrope Lord's direct kin were born with terrifying regeneration. Regrettably, Graham shared Roy's litter.
Killing him wasn't easy—short of severing his head.
But put another way, there was no need to hold back. Just don't kill him.
"Damn."
Roy knew why he felt so antsy. Truth be told, the one he should be facing now wasn't Graham—it was Juliet.
Her face from their last meeting at the palace banquet days ago floated up.
"I'll be right back."
She'd always said that. Juliet would smile and nod, or see him off with a "come back safe."
Not this time. Roy had desperately searched her expression, but she'd only smiled reluctantly—no more of the old warmth and closeness.
It left him frantic. He'd tried so hard to play nice.
And now it all felt for nothing.
"Kyahat...!"
Graham let out a weird, wheezing laugh.
"That human wench is the mate *you* found?"
Roy didn't reply. He merely stared coldly down at his blathering brother.
Graham, knowing escape was impossible, mocked him outright.
Graham had sensed it the moment he tracked the human woman in the forest.
She hadn't been hard to find—Roy had littered her surroundings with his scent.
"Idiot! That human wench will bring disaster!"
"What?"
"That bitch has the Snowdrop! Women like her are pure bad luck...!"
"Snowdrop?"
Roy tilted his head.