Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: Duke Carlyle's Wedding
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After the horse race wager ended, Juliet would ride Apple up to the front of the procession whenever she felt like it, galloping at full speed, or fall back to the rear and walk when Apple got tired or wanted a break.
Right now, Juliet was sitting backwards on the back of the baggage wagon, sipping tea.
Apple had been rewarded handsomely with lump sugar.
Apple slowly and happily licked it up.
"Huh? What’s the secret?"
"You cheated, didn’t you?"
Theo and Gray took turns pestering her relentlessly, but Juliet leisurely sipped her tea.
"I’m not telling."
Gray pouted, worn out, while Theo glared at Juliet murderously.
Isaac burst out laughing at the sight.
"To beat the warhorses—Apple’s amazing."
Juliet’s eyes narrowed at his words. Theo and Gray looked preemptively guilty and shut their mouths.
Warhorses, indeed. They’d clearly planned to race from the start.
"If they’re warhorses, are those from Carcasonne?"
"That’s right. Carcasonne horses are famous. The imperial army buys them in huge numbers every year."
"Come to think of it, there’s a garrison in Carcasonne too, right?"
"Yep."
"How do you know that?"
Gray asked, amazed.
Juliet brushed it off with an ambiguous smile instead of answering.
*Come to think of it.*
She only remembered when they got close, but Juliet actually knew someone in Carcasonne.
*Though he probably doesn’t think of it that way...*
To her, it was a fairly close connection.
Vicente Bowman.
Her former fiancé.
Of course, after the Monad count couple died seven years ago, the connection had fizzled out.
They’d been engaged since she was a ten-year-old child, arranged by their families, but she had no idea what happened after that.
They’d never exchanged formal breakup papers, but it was safe to say the relationship between Juliet and the Bowman family had ended seven years ago.
The Bowman marquisate might have even been relieved. Who knew what would have happened sending their son as an adopted heir to the childless Monad count family.
Juliet herself had no particular thoughts about Vicente Bowman.
To put it a bit harshly, her fiancé—who was four years older—was nothing special beyond his decent looks.
On top of that, in her first life, she’d heard rumors he’d taken up gambling, gone bankrupt, and died.
There had been a time, after she’d gone north with Lennox, when she’d nearly run into him at a banquet.
But when their eyes met from afar, Vicente had been the one to avoid her first, looking displeased.
She hadn’t seen him since.
She’d only heard by chance that he was in Carcasonne.
It had been two or three years since she last heard anything, so he might not even be there anymore, she thought.
Juliet suddenly grew curious.
*When does Vicente die?*
Ding-dong-ding!
A bell rang from the front, and the baggage train slowly came to a halt.
When she heard it would take two more days to reach Carcasonne, Juliet even felt a pang of regret.
Helene smiled gently when Juliet voiced the sentiment. They’d stopped for a break to avoid a passing drizzle.
The horses were given rest and feed, and the people warm tea.
"Surprising."
"What is?"
"Honestly, I was a bit worried before meeting you."
Helene looked unsure how to phrase it.
"As you can see, with this sort of—"
Helene raised her index finger, twirling her right hand as if searching for something, then pointed at one spot.
At the tip of her finger were her two sons. Gray was running off, giggling.
"Gray Levatan, you damn brat!"
Theo was yelling furiously.
Whatever it was, they were clearly fighting over something childish. It was hard to believe they were both adults.
The Marigold caravan members paid no attention, as if it were a familiar sight.
"I wondered if you’d hate this environment. I’ve never raised a girl before."
Helene shrugged.
"Lillian loved carriage trips too."
Juliet couldn’t help but be surprised.
"Have you met my mother?"
"Yeah."
Helene confirmed it readily.
"It was when Lillian was about your age now—no, younger than you are."
Come to think of it, Isaac was Lionel’s eldest son, and Lillian was the late-born youngest daughter.
There was a big age gap between Isaac and Lillian, so if Isaac had married Helene young, it wasn’t impossible.
Helene brimmed with energy even standing still—small, sturdy, and sparkling—but Juliet suddenly thought she might be much older than she’d guessed.
"She was a real tomboy..."
Throughout mealtime, Isaac and Helene laughed happily, telling her tons of stories about Lillian.
"The way she rode horses so wildly."
Helene stood, lightly tapping Juliet’s nose tip with a smile.
"You take after your mom a lot."
The dawn drizzle stopped after sprinkling just the right amount of pleasant moisture. The group bustled about preparing to depart.
"Guildmaster! Caravan leader!"
That was the case until a familiar-uniformed caravan member came galloping up on horseback from afar.
The horse barely stopped right beside them.
It must have been urgent—the member practically tumbled off.
Helene, hands lightly on her hips, furrowed her brow slightly.
"What’s with all the commotion?"
"Uh—"
Panting heavily, the member finally handed over the paper he held.
Helene snatched it. From a glimpse, Juliet saw it seemed to be urgent news.
Helene scanned it quickly, then spat out,
"Damn it—"
Isaac flinched and quickly glanced at Juliet.
"Uh, should we talk inside, Helen?"
For the next few minutes, Helene and Isaac conversed with serious expressions.
From what she overheard, there seemed to be a problem at another branch of the caravan.
They gathered the chief steward and others, quickly exchanging opinions, then Helene approached Juliet, who stood blankly off to the side.
"Sorry, Juliet. I need to step away with your uncle for a bit. Can you stay with Theo?"
...With who?
Juliet and Theo both made the same face, and Helene hurriedly added upon seeing them,
"It won’t take long.
Our mage, Esherid, will stay too."
Helene meant it to reassure her, but to Juliet, it wasn’t much better.
Left alone with her growling cousin, or with that unsettling mage added to make three?
But she wasn’t a child.
Juliet didn’t want to hinder Helene and Isaac’s business over personal feelings. Nor burden them.
"Of course it’s fine."
"Really?"
"Yes, it’s urgent—you should go.
I’m not a kid."
Theo muttered things like, "Why not ask me?" and ended up getting smacked by Gray.
Helene and Isaac began preparations to leave.
In the bustle, Juliet, with nothing to do, stroked Apple.
"Gray’s going too?"
"Yeah, that’s the plan."
Gray, accustomed to this, efficiently checked on his team, finished preparations faster than anyone, and waited for his parents.
Seeing him like this made her wonder if this was the same guy who bickered childishly with his five-years-younger brother daily.
"What’s going on?"
Juliet asked without much expectation.
She figured she’d get an answer like it was too professional for her to understand.
Juliet was no expert herself and had only gathered it was a serious issue with some caravan business in progress—serious enough for Helene to go in person.
But surprisingly, Gray explained willingly.
"You know Mermaid Silk?"
"Yes, I do."
Mermaid Silk was a rare fabric produced only in the South Sea.
Not actually related to mermaids, it was made from processing jellyfish called Mermaid Jelly. Lighter and stronger than regular silk, with a subtle sheen—it was top-quality.
The downside? Limited production, so even if you wanted it, you couldn’t easily buy it. The price was whatever the seller named.
"Oh? Then it’s easy to explain."
Gray grinned and gave a brief rundown.
Here’s what happened, as Gray told it.
Recently, the Marigold Caravan had received a massive order for high-end fabrics like Mermaid Silk from a certain family.
With the widest distribution network on the continent—from the polar regions to the South Sea—and top credit, Marigold could handle it.
"Not just Mermaid Silk, actually."
Diamond Wool, Wolfram Wool—the fabrics Gray mentioned were all premium.
Juliet, listening quietly, tilted her head.
"All top-grade fabrics?"
"Yeah. How’d you know?"
Gray looked a bit surprised.
He had reason to be. Mermaid Silk or Biscuit Lace were popular even in the capital high society. Top choices for dresses, so anyone with a little interest would know.
But Diamond Wool or Wolfram Wool? Unless you were a fabric expert, they weren’t familiar.
"Just know them. Picked it up here and there."
Juliet smiled and brushed it off.
In truth, Diamond Wool was hugely popular in the North.
Northern winters were brutal. Northern nobles spared no expense seeking thin, light fabrics with excellent insulation.
Gray didn’t seem to suspect further at her words.
"But today, trouble hit."
The supplier suddenly reneged, saying they couldn’t provide the fabrics at the agreed price.
Normally handled by agents, but contract issues meant the caravan owner, Helene, had to go herself.
Juliet, listening obediently, asked what had been bothering her.
"But all those orders from one place?"
"Yeah. A wedding."
A wedding.
Makes sense, she thought.
Weddings used top fabrics, and grand ones often meant dozens of outfits for bride and groom alone.
But lavish weddings like this were rare nowadays.
Whichever family it was, it seemed like an extravagantly grand affair, Juliet mused.
*Must be royalty or something.*
"Yeah. Actually, it’s not just us in a panic. Lentor’s jewelers are probably swamped too. Huge jewelry order came in."
We should’ve snagged that order too.
Gray muttered regretfully.
"Wow."
Juliet felt a spark of interest.
Ordering tons of high-end fabrics through Marigold, and jewels from continent-famous Lentor.
No idea whose wedding, but clearly preparing a continental-scale event.
"So, who is it? This customer rushing the wedding?"
"Uh, this is trade secret—Mom absolutely forbade spilling."
But Gray was already itching to tell.
He grinned, ostentatiously glancing around.
*Ahem.* Then beckoned Juliet closer. She leaned in with a silver smile.
He whispered in her ear.
"It’s Duke Carlyle."
"......Pardon?"
"The Carlyle ducal house."
Juliet’s face went pale in an instant.
Forgotten Juliet