Forgotten Juliet

Wearing a sheet over his head, Juliet observed the topless man with bated breath.

When the man took off his gown, with his back to the bed, his broad shoulders and solid back muscles were revealed by the dawn’s light.

An impeccable, well balanced knightley physique. A waist reminiscent of the sleek body of a carnivore, and an attractive, angular face. Wounds both large and small were scattered across his body, but even those were a work of art. Juliet seemed to lose her mind for a moment as she gazed at the man.

After taking off his robe, the man donned a white and clean cut shirt.

Although it was a habit unbecoming of a noble Duke of high status, the man who’d spent half his life on the battlefield hated the look of his body and chose to dress himself.

So, there were only two types of women he would bring to his bedroom. A woman who was an overnight lover, or a woman worth using.

Juliet was the latter.

‘…Maybe both.’

Pondering that thought, Juliet laughed at herself.

In that moment, Juliet’s gaze met the man’s red eyes as she rested her head upon the pillow. The Duke’s eyes narrowed as he attached his cufflinks.

“Did I wake you?”

It was only natural for him to wonder.

The day after, Juliet was normally so tired that she couldn’t even lift so much as a finger. Instead of opening her eyes at dawn, she used to sleep until it was broad daylight.

“…….No, Your Highness.”

Juliet replied with a sigh.

She peeled back the sheet and stood up. Now that he’d noticed, pretending to be asleep wasn’t very wise.

Juliet couldn’t sleep at all last night. She’d stayed awake all night with her eyes open, but was so nervous and tense that she didn’t even feel tired.

“I have something to tell you.”

Juliet, who spoke carefully, came down from the bed barefoot.

Her long hair, which she could tell was clearly matted, was roughly draped to one side. But Juliet no longer cared what she looked like.

No matter how hard she tried to dress elaborately, Juliet always looked shabby standing in front of her lover who radiated like the sun. Colourful summer dresses were nothing more than modest pyjamas in comparison to him.