Translator: Nox

24

2. Juliet's Lover.

"…Lennox, please."

On the cold stone floor, a woman with long, flowing hair was sobbing.

Around her, who was sitting on the floor, were scattered blue fragments in the shape of butterflies.

Unlike usual, the butterflies were barely flickering, only managing to move their wings slightly.

The woman with light brown hair, pitifully disheveled, pleaded at his feet.

It was a sight that would make anyone feel sorry for her, but the man, propping his chin up and looking down at her, had a gaze that was chillingly cold.

No matter what she did, she couldn't win back the heart of her lover, which had already turned cold.

"I was wrong. I won't ask again."

Even if it wasn't love, she wanted to stay by his side.

From the beginning, he had told her not to expect anything, but she ultimately couldn't protect her heart.

Inwardly, she might have been arrogant.

She thought that she was the only one whom the man, who never allowed anyone to stay by his side for long, regarded as even slightly special.

She believed that if she waited patiently, there would come a day when he, too, would give her even a piece of his heart.

That's what she believed and endured.

But her futile hope was shattered in an instant.

"…I won't talk about that woman again. No, I won't even utter her name."

She didn't need a kind word or a single smile.

The man was equally indifferent to everyone.

But what she truly couldn't bear was something else. It was the fact that the man, who was relentlessly cold, was not so to only one person.

And the person he smiled kindly at was not her.

The seat beside him, which he only allowed one person to occupy, could never be hers.

Only then did she realize that everything had been a misunderstanding from the beginning.

Too late.

"So Lennox, just our baby…"

"Juliet Monad."

As if he couldn't listen anymore, the man cut her off.

His thin patience for the crying woman had reached its limit.

He reached out and lightly lifted her chin.

With tearful eyes, she looked up at him desperately. But all that looked back at her were red eyes devoid of any emotion.

"I clearly warned you, didn't I? Not to expect anything."

She had abandoned her pride and pleaded one last time, but all that came back was a cold sneer that pierced her ears.

"Don't get the wrong idea. Since when were we 'we'?"

*

Huff.

Juliet woke up from her dream, her eyes wide open. Tears streamed down her face.

Rattle, rattle.

The regular shaking and the unfamiliar ceiling. And a small, single bed barely pulled Juliet back to reality.

Even after waking up from the dream, she was blankly catching her breath for a long time.

"Don't get the wrong idea."

The cold voice still seemed to ring clearly in her ears.

'No, I.'

Juliet bit her lip.

'I ran away.'

Yes. This was no longer by that man's side. So, a moment ago was just a nightmare that hadn't happened.

'It's just a dream.'

One that she had never experienced before her regression, and one that she would never experience in this life.

She was used to these kinds of nightmares.

'So it's okay.'

Soothing herself in that way, Juliet habitually touched the pearl necklace she always carried with her.

The cold, smooth texture of the pearls gave her a sense of relief.

It was more like a rosary (rosary: a Sacred object used when saying the rosary) made by stringing together small pearls than a necklace.

Except for the fact that instead of a cross, a small silver key was attached like a pendant at the end.

The pearls were small and not very impressive, but to Juliet, it was more precious than anything else.

Because it was a memento of her deceased mother, Countess Monad.

Juliet absentmindedly traced one corner of the necklace with her fingertip. She could read the delicately engraved letters on the inside without even looking at them.

'Lillian Seneca.'

Lillian was the name of her mother, Countess Monad.

As far as Juliet knew, her mother's name before marriage was not 'Lillian Seneca' but 'Lillian Mayfair.'

'Then where did Seneca come from?'

Juliet was curious, but she didn't know much about her mother.

'I should have asked more.'

All Juliet knew about her mother's family was that they were from the East, of low status and humble.

That almost all of her family members were dead, making her practically an orphan.

'Then Father fell in love at first sight and proposed fervently, and Mother accepted the proposal, or so I heard.'

In fact, Juliet had never heard any stories about her maternal relatives.

'I think I vaguely heard that she was the daughter of a knight…'

Surprisingly, Juliet didn't know much about her mother.

One of the reasons Juliet decided to go to the East was because of that.

She had searched through the empire's directory of nobles, but strangely, she couldn't find a family named Seneca.

Maybe they weren't nobles, Juliet thought then.

When two people of different status marry, the lineage of the child born between them is often questioned.

So, there were cases where commoners would buy the genealogy of a fallen family and then marry.

'It's not unreasonable.'

The empire's capital is biased towards the west, and the nobles in the capital's social circles think it's a big deal to leave the capital.

So, if you said you were a noble from the East, they would just accept it.

She had asked her mother's friends, but they were all friends she had made after becoming Countess Monad, so they didn't know exactly what kind of person Lillian was before her marriage.

The servants who had worked in the Count's family for a long time were also apologetic, saying that they didn't know anything about the deceased Countess's family.

At least, there was no one in the capital who knew the name Lillian Seneca.

Thinking that far, Juliet got up from the bed.

A view of the cozy, single-person room of about three square meters came into view.

Outside the large window that filled one side, the scenery was quickly passing by.

Juliet wiped her eyes haphazardly and got out of bed to tidy up her sleeping area.

Knock, knock.

"Are you awake, guest? Good morning!"

Just in time, at the sound of knocking, a crew member with a towel was standing outside the room.

"Hot water is ready. Would you like me to prepare breakfast now?"

The girl, who looked a little younger than Juliet, was wearing a uniform. At her cheerful question, Juliet nodded.

After asking her to prepare the meal, Juliet took out her luggage and changed her clothes.

Juliet consciously tried to think of pleasant thoughts.

She needed to think of something else, even if it was just to escape the lingering effects of the unpleasant nightmare and the previous night.

What could there be? Something bright, something lively.

It was her first time sleeping on a rattling train. And traveling like this, too.

While organizing her clothes, Juliet suddenly stared out the train window.

It was very rare for a grown, unmarried young lady to wander around without a maid to attend to her.

So, in order not to arouse suspicion, Juliet rented a single room and vaguely said that she was a young wife going to meet her husband.

Her name on the train's passenger list was Lillian Seneca.

Juliet thought that if she used her mother's maiden name, she wouldn't be tracked.

On the other hand, you never knew.

If she was lucky, she might meet someone in the East who knew the name 'Lillian Seneca.'

Brushing her long hair roughly, Juliet mulled over the forged identity written on her ID.

In the setting, Lillian Seneca's husband was working at the eastern gateway.

They had been married for three years, but they had been living apart for a long time, so they didn't have any children and were still close to being newlyweds.

Mrs. Seneca, as someone who grew up in a conservative family, enjoyed wearing plain, achromatic dresses that didn't reveal much skin.

But if you looked closely, her black dress was quite luxurious, using only high-quality lace and frills.

Mrs. Seneca's family had been running a drapery store for generations, so it was okay for her clothes to be of better quality than her status.

Juliet liked her fake identity very much.

In keeping with her status, Juliet neatly twisted her hair into a bun and wore a black veil.

It was because she would be in trouble if anyone recognized her.

'Let's just say Mrs. Seneca is quiet and reserved, then.'

Juliet's gaze, who was tidying her hair, suddenly reached a small luggage bag.

Ah.

'I thought I left it all behind.'

Juliet bit her lip.

Forgotten Juliet