Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Fetching My Bride
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The private meeting between Duke Carlisle and the emperor lasted less than half an hour.
Elliot, who had been waiting outside the audience chamber, bowed his head toward the duke as he emerged.
He was curious about what the two of them could have discussed in such a short time.
But before he could ask about the conversation, Elliot suddenly noticed that the duke was holding some kind of ornament in his hand.
It was a silver dove with its wings half-spread.
The rather cute little thing seemed to both suit and clash with the large, well-shaped hand of its owner.
'Huh, did Your Highness have something like that?'
Elliot tilted his head.
Was it a gift from the emperor? It felt oddly familiar somehow.
But before Elliot could ask, Duke Carlisle called out to him first.
"Elliot."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Take the knights and return to the north. And as soon as you get back, prepare for the wedding ceremony."
"Pardon?"
It took Elliot a beat to grasp the meaning. The order to take the group back to the north meant that Duke Carlisle himself would not be going with them.
...And a wedding ceremony? What ceremony?
Elliot decided to ask his most pressing questions first, one by one.
"Then, Your Highness, you...?"
"I..."
By now outside the palace, Lennox Carlisle lightly mounted his black horse, took the reins, and spoke calmly.
"Need to fetch my bride."
**
'Ah.'
Juliet opened her eyes on the soft bed.
The muscle soreness that hit her immediately upon waking startled her a little. Her whole body ached. Wondering why her joints hurt so much...
She remembered yesterday.
"Right, that's what happened..."
She had seen the massive wolf, met some rather strange passengers, and even witnessed a knife fight...
No wonder she'd slept so deeply without her usual disturbing dreams. She'd pushed her body too hard.
Juliet groaned as she carefully got out of bed.
What greeted her were voices that were never welcome, no matter when she heard them.
(Eyes. Open.)
(Owner. Greeting. Morning.)
Not content with fluttering around the bedroom, the butterflies were even mimicking humans by giving a proper 'morning greeting.'
Was it her imagination? Juliet felt like they were getting better and better at imitating humans.
"......Hello."
If she ignored them, they'd get all sulky and even more annoying, so Juliet gave a perfunctory greeting.
(He-llo?)
(Hello. Morning.)
As she drank some water, they seemed even more excited, chattering away to each other with their newly learned word.
They really were like five-year-olds, sulking at the drop of a hat.
'Weren't they supposed to be great beings from beyond dimensions?'
Juliet sometimes got confused.
Were all spirits like this?
Anyway, that morning, the butterflies were in high spirits, clumsily striking up conversations with her and babbling about this and that.
Bathed in the early sunlight, their bluish wings sparkled in a more mystical hue than usual.
'No wonder.'
As she tidied the bed, Juliet glanced at the energetic butterflies.
'After devouring all that yesterday.'
Perhaps because they'd gorged themselves, their color was deeper and more vivid than usual.
'And they popped out on their own again, of course.'
Juliet sighed.
It didn't seem like just her imagination anymore—the frequency with which the butterflies emerged without her permission was increasing.
As she changed clothes, the butterflies hovered near the open window, noisily getting in her way.
Juliet could easily guess why the magical creatures were in such a good mood.
It was probably partly because they'd gotten to stuff themselves after so long, but the biggest reason was that she had left the duke's side.
She still didn't know the exact reason, but this magical creature hated Lennox Carlisle.
'More precisely, it should be afraid of him.'
When she asked why, they dodged the question or clamped their mouths shut, so she didn't know the precise reason... but that was how it was.
That aspect made them seem totally like five-year-olds. She'd once doggedly pressed them on it.
"Are you scared of him?"
When Juliet kept asking despite their usual silence, the butterflies grumbled like they were offended and reluctantly answered.
(Hate. Human, shadow, that.
Exceeded. Hunting dog, wary. First.)
(Betrayer. Cat.)
(Contractor. Okay. Like.)
......As expected, vague answers she couldn't interpret. There were even words she couldn't understand.
That was the only time they'd even hinted at why this magical creature hated Duke Carlisle.
After answering like that, they always added, as usual.
(Human, hate. It's fine. Only you, (our contractor. Good. You too?))
They ended it by flattering her like that.
By acting cute to wrap up the conversation. And thanks to that, on the days when Lennox occasionally infused his mana into her body, the butterflies never dared pop out on their own or chatter like usual for a while.
It had been convenient...
(Owner, tired?)
(Quiet? Tired?)
(Contractor? Hurt?)
(? ?)
Juliet sighed, wondering how to deal with these chatterboxes now, and flung open the door to her room.
Then she blinked at the sight of a man with silver-gray hair leaning against the wall right in front of her door.
"...Roy?"
"Ah."
The man, who had been slumped almost crumpled in the hallway, startled to his feet and turned toward her all at once.
It was an unnecessarily startling display of agility.
As if he'd been standing there from the beginning, Roy faced Juliet.
His fluid movements flowed so naturally, like a dance, that Juliet thought she should clap.
"Juliet."
His bright yellow pumpkin-colored eyes widened in surprise.
Juliet smiled awkwardly, embarrassed. Hearing her name from his lips felt oddly embarrassing.
Good thing he'd asked her to call him Roy—if she'd had to call him Romeo, she might have died of shame.
"What are you doing here?"
......He hadn't spent the whole night like this, had he?
The suspicion arose as she asked.
"Well..."
Before answering, Roy straightened his messy hair. In the meantime, Juliet leisurely looked him over.
Fortunately, he was dressed normally today. Since looking up at him made her neck ache a bit, she started to step back half a pace.
".......!"
"This."
But just before she could retreat, as if on cue, Roy's hand grabbed hers.
Juliet blinked at what he suddenly held out.
It was one of the hairpins she'd dropped when she tripped in the room the day before. She'd found one right away, but thought she'd lost the other.
"Where did you find it? Were you waiting here to give it to me?"
Nod, nod.
His expression brightened instantly, like a puppy expecting praise.
'Something... so like our Roro.'
It reminded her of the puppy she'd raised when she was five.
The gray puppy that wagged its tail furiously whenever it saw Juliet.
Looking at Roy, whose sparkling eyes didn't match his tall stature, Juliet felt a subtle pang as she pictured the puppy wagging its tail hard.
(.....)
Ah.
Juliet suddenly had a thought and turned around.
Sure enough, beyond the open door to her room, a butterfly perched motionless by the window.
'Right, that's how it was.'
Whether he was a swordmaster or a high priest, Roy was someone the butterflies' illusions didn't work on.
Juliet thought for a moment, then pointed to the back of his hand.
"Does that hurt?"
Roy's gaze dropped downward.
There was a long gash on the back of his hand.
But the next moment, Juliet unwittingly grabbed his hand in surprise.
"......?"
"Don't lick it!"
Because he'd moved to lick the back of his hand with excessive naturalness.
"It'll get infected!"
"In-fect?"
"Meaning bacteria will—"
Seeing his innocent face, she realized it was pointless to explain.
'Forget it. Better not say anything.'
"...Come inside."
"Okay."
Roy peered around curiously but obediently followed her into the room as she directed.
"Sit there."
"Okay."
"Give me your hand."
"Okay."
Like a docile puppy, Roy answered beautifully.
'He listens so well...'
Juliet glanced sideways at his face. He didn't even flinch as she poured disinfectant on it.
'It must sting...'
Juliet sloppily doused it with disinfectant, then wrapped it messily in bandages.
"All done."
Despite the half-hearted first aid, Roy didn't complain; he just kept fiddling with the bandage she'd wrapped, as if it were fascinating.
"Don't keep touching it."
She said that because the sloppy knot bothered her, and Roy really never touched the knot again.
"Okay."
Seeing his sweetly smiling, pretty face, Juliet felt a strange sensation.