Chapter 69
Chapter 69
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: Duke Carlyle's Arrival
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Juliet tilted her head as she gazed into the mirror.
It had been ages since she had dressed up so glamorously with all her effort, and the sight of herself in the mirror felt utterly awkward.
'Just the day before yesterday, I was rolling around on the dirt floor, struggling away.'
For the necklace alone, she kept on the pearl one—a memento from Lillian.
The small silver key charm dangling at the end matched her perfectly, as if she'd chosen it on purpose.
It had been so long since she'd put this much care into adorning herself that by the time she applied the final touch of red lipstick, Juliet was half-dozing, her head surrendered to the attendants' hands.
The attendants flashed satisfied smiles, gave her shoulders a gentle shake to rouse her, and then released her.
“All done.”
They brought over a mirror.
Juliet glanced at it absentmindedly, and her eyes widened with a sparkle.
A dazzling beauty enough to banish sleep in an instant blinked back in surprise—eyeliner drawn like brushstrokes on fresh paper, her complexion blooming vividly.
“Not bad, is it?”
Not bad?
Juliet thought it was the understatement of the century.
She could hardly believe it was her own face.
'If I had to do this every day, I'd never manage it.'
Juliet preferred neat and tidy over flashy. She’d always thought bold styles didn’t suit her features.
But now, she wondered if her judgment over the past half lifetime had been dead wrong.
The woman in the mirror still felt so foreign that Juliet awkwardly fiddled with her earlobe.
Like the tiara, large ruby-and-pearl earrings dangled there.
“You look utterly beautiful.”
Just then, a familiar voice sounded from behind.
“Roy!”
It was Roy—the “someone” Helene had mentioned.
Two whole weeks since she’d last seen his face.
“Hello, Juliet. I’m here to escort you, Lady.”
Roy smiled warmly and extended his hand. Spotting a familiar face in this strange place suddenly made her glad.
***
At that moment, Theo stood watch at the approach to Lucerne’s central banquet hall.
Helene had ordered it, fretting over Juliet’s safety.
“Where’d that guy wander off to?”
As Theo grumbled, he caught sight of something bizarre.
“Huh?”
A familiar face—no, a lycanthrope—was heading into the central hall with some woman.
“...What the hell is that bastard up to?”
Theo muttered, seething.
‘This is exactly why wolves can’t be trusted.’
They were utterly unreliable.
‘Not escorting Juliet, but showing up with some random partner?’
He figured he’d wait till they drew near and give them a piece of his mind—then he froze.
His escort was a stunning beauty impossible to ignore.
She struck him like a red blossom given human form—her presence intensely striking.
Dazed and captivated by her looks for a moment, he watched them breeze right into the banquet hall.
“...And who the hell is that woman?”
Juliet was so guileless that even she’d be miffed if she learned a suitor of hers arrived with another partner—especially a knockout like that.
‘...What now?’
Theo paced fretfully on his own.
“Theo? What’re you doing out here by yourself?”
Eselrid strolled out then—she’d already arrived at the hall.
“No, hey, Esel. Listen up. That’s not the point—that bastard Roy—”
“Juliet?”
“What?”
Theo blinked in shock at Eselrid’s unforeseen remark.
“Yeah. Roy’s escorting her, isn’t he?”
“What bullshit is that? I just saw that wolf pup walk in with some woman clear as day—”
...Huh? So that woman was...?
“No way.”
Theo bolted into the banquet hall, face stricken with horror.
* * *
With Helene rushed off by urgent merchant guild business, Eselrid suddenly found herself playing guardian to Juliet and Theo.
“Welcome to the Terrarium.”
A priest called Cardinal Solon greeted their group with exaggerated pomp.
The Terrarium was a stunning temple structure.
Its circular form, built entirely from soft ivory marble, was immense in scale—and doubled as lodging for visitors.
Juliet thought its shape vaguely evoked the Colosseum.
“We’re delighted to host such esteemed guests again this year.”
Cardinal Solon rubbed his hands with relish.
Theo muttered under his breath, for Juliet’s ears alone.
“That guy’s got the same script every damn year. See him annually, and he acts thrilled every time?”
Juliet shot him a sidelong glance. Cardinal Solon was supposedly Pope Sebastian’s top aide.
‘But somehow...’
He came off even more insufferably smug than the Pope himself.
He clutched a small purple tome to his chest wherever he went.
She’d assumed it was holy scripture, but no—it held a special roster of top donors, like the forty-eight great houses and other lavish faithful.
In Theo’s words, a list of devout rich idlers.
“Especially this year, we’re thrilled to present yet another lost lamb to you all.”
“Must’ve snagged a new big patron, whoever it is.”
Theo muttered with cynical bite.
‘Lost lamb’ meant a fresh convert.
Families like the Levatans attended yearly, but the roster of forty-eight houses shifted from time to time.
“Ah, come say hello to everyone!”
Cardinal Solon, brimming with excitement, ushered them into the banquet hall.
At the heart of the opulent space—fronted by vast glass panes—stood a lone man.
And that was when Juliet learned who Cardinal Solon’s touted new believer was.
And why he’d hyped the introduction so lavishly.
A tall figure with black hair and crimson eyes leaned at an angle, gazing at their entrance with lazy menace.
“It’s Duke Carlyle!”
* * *
Next came a man in white robes cinched with a scarlet sash—the Pope—striding into the banquet hall.
He launched into a speech, but not a word reached Juliet’s ears as she kept her head bowed.
‘This has to be a lie.’
The reason was simple: every time she dared lift her gaze, it locked with those brazen red eyes staring straight at her.
“Duke Carlyle... of the North...?”
Juliet wasn’t the only one thrown.
Even mid-speech, flustered murmurs rippled here and there.
The crowd buzzed at this unprecedented turn.
True, the Grand Festival welcomed anyone with an invitation—that was the rule.
‘But he’s never once shown up before.’
Finally steeling herself, Juliet raised her head just a fraction and fixed him with a steady glare.
He didn’t look away.
Instead, he flicked a glance at Roy beside her and flashed a sly grin.
“Welcome to Lucerne. May the light and grace of Ifrit shine upon all our noble guests.”
The Pope’s words ended to thunderous applause.
Juliet turned to clap as well—then flinched.
‘What was that...?’
Imagination?
For a split second, it felt like her eyes had met the Pope’s.
Pope Sebastian carried vicious rumors at odds with his looks.
“The gossip’s pretty foul too.”
Eselrid murmured a heads-up.
“Under his reign, deaths and vanishings have spiked like never before.”
His features made his age impossible to guess.
Still, the Pope’s symbolic aura seemed to win him fans among the faithful.
“Your Holiness!”
“Bless us with fortune!”
“Grant us your consecration!”
By common measure, his refined features qualified as handsome enough.
But Juliet sensed only an unreasoning unease from him.
His face looked far too youthful for a man well past fifty, and those glassy pupils chilled her to the core.