Chapter 80
“Thank you, Juliette. Thanks to you, I feel my birthday celebration shines even brighter. Please enjoy the ball to your heart’s content.”
At the heartfelt praise, jealous gazes from the surrounding ladies poured toward Iella. Yet her undeniable grace made even their envy bow its head.
“Thank you.”
A bright smile bloomed on her pure, innocent face—as if she knew nothing of the filth of the world. It was far from seductive, yet to Franz, it felt endlessly alluring. To be honest, at this moment, Franz had only one thought:
“Forget the celebration. I just want to take Iella away from here right now.”
It was a pity that there were simply too many eyes watching for him to act on that urge.
The king and queen proceeded with their toast and congratulatory speech for Prince Franz’s birthday, followed by the gift ceremony. And next, the ball would officially begin—with the first dance belonging to none other than the guest of honor, Prince Franz.
Everyone held their breath in anticipation, their eyes fixed solely on Franz.
His confident steps—without hesitation or urgency—headed straight toward Iella.
“Would you grant me the honor of the first dance?”
Gasps burst out across the hall. After a brief stir, the room fell silent again. It was an outcome many had already predicted.
“It would be my utmost honor.”
Iella looked dazedly at the hand extended toward her, then gently placed her own upon it.
With their hands clasped, they walked to the center of the floor as the royal orchestra began the first dance with a beautiful melody.
“Everyone’s watching us.”
At her small whisper, Iella glanced around and swallowed nervously.
Every gaze surrounding the floor was fixed on the pair gracefully performing the waltz. It was only natural—Prince Franz and an unknown beauty dancing together in perfect harmony was a mesmerizing sight.
“I’m nervous.”
She still had no immunity to things like this. Thanks to the mask, she had managed to hide her nerves until now, but dancing in front of everyone like this made it hard to breathe. Her heart pounded so fast it made her dizzy. She had practiced for days, yet she still trembled.
“Iella. Lift your head. Look at me.”
At his firm yet gentle voice, Iella looked up and met his gaze directly. Eyes like the deep blue sea—or perhaps a vast forest. From the very first time she saw them, she had been captivated. Only then did her trembling nerves begin to ease.
“Don’t think about anything else. Just look at me.”
“Yes.”
She nodded determinedly. The warmth of his hand around hers, and the heat of his palm resting at her waist, brought her comfort. In that moment, it felt as though they were the only two people in existence.
Moving naturally as if breathing, she allowed herself to follow his smooth lead. With each elegant motion to the melody, the layers of her skirt fluttered like a dream.
Though his lead was flawless, Iella’s light and graceful movements completed the perfect picture they created together.
“Am I doing it right?”
Unlike Franz, who moved like a seasoned dancer, Iella was barely past the basics. Yet even her clumsiness looked endearingly pure.
“You’re doing wonderfully, Iella.”
Before her first smile could fade at his praise, she beamed even brighter. She didn’t want to hide her true feelings.
“I feel… kind of happy.”
“You can feel even happier if you like.”
A dazzling smile—bright enough to light the whole hall—was directed at her.
Franz recalled the Iella who had once appeared in that ridiculously plain dress, looking utterly uncomfortable right before his eyes.
It felt like only yesterday that she had been irritated even being alone with him for a moment. And now—she was smiling radiantly like a queen of the social world.
“Your Highness. Don’t laugh at me, okay?”
“I would never.”
Franz said sincerely.
A little embarrassed to say it, she hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath before daring to confess:
“Today—this dance right now—is actually my very first dance in society.”
It was unbelievable, yet because it was Iella saying it, he believed it. Her slightly flushed face smiled shyly.
Even the gaze directed at him—purely and solely at him—felt unbearably lovely. He had never cared for someone’s beauty before, yet with Iella, he simply couldn’t look away.
“In a way, this is your true debutante ball, isn’t it?”
“Oh, I guess so.”
She laughed, playing along with his joke.
“I think I might actually be talented. For my first time, I’m doing pretty well, right? I never knew waltzing could be this fun.”
Though he knew it was all thanks to him, Franz didn’t bother saying it aloud. Just seeing her enjoy herself was reward enough.
“Tonight, I’ll make you the flower of the social world.”
Truthfully, the very moment Iella had entered the hall, she had already stolen that title.
—
When their first waltz ended, others joined the floor for the second piece with their partners.
Franz danced three more songs in a row with Iella before reluctantly letting go of her hand. The moment he did, a flock of men—who had been waiting eagerly—descended upon her like wolves.
“Would you grant me the honor of the next dance?”
“My lady, please, the next dance with me—”
Overwhelmed by the barrage of invitations, Iella looked flustered. As she hesitated helplessly, Luisa appeared beside her and whispered:
“You should accept at least some. Refusing everyone would be rude.”
“Really?”
“Yes. It’s His Highness’s birthday celebration—we can’t ruin the mood.”
“Aah,” Iella said, and naively believed it.
She wasn’t keen on the idea—but perhaps it was also necessary to test the prince’s heart.
Operation Jealousy.
She took the hand of a man in a red mask who had stepped forward with a request.
Contrary to Luisa’s reasoning, however, the sight thoroughly ruined Franz’s mood.
He noticed—beneath the swaying hem of her dress—the glint of the shoes he had gifted her.
Everything about her tonight was perfect. Everything was wonderful. Except for this: the shoes he had given her were dancing in another man’s arms.
I didn’t buy those so you could go waltzing with someone else, you know?
Watching the flies swarm around her made him feel like he was going insane. Yet when his mother asked him for a dance, he had no choice but to accept.
The next song—she was with another man yet again. His gaze was drawn back to her against his will, like a force of nature.
The man dancing with her whispered something, and Iella smiled brightly in response. Meanwhile, Franz’s face had lost all trace of his earlier smile. His deep blue eyes sank into a cold abyss.
“You don’t look very pleased.”
Startled by the unexpected comment, he quickly picked up his expression and met eyes just like his own.
“You’re mistaken.”
“Of course. Let’s say that.”
Her amused tone only grated on him further. Even as he danced flawlessly, his gaze remained fixed on Iella.
Iella’s diligence shone even here—she accepted every invitation without refusing any. Franz’s insides burned with frustration.
Why isn’t she saying no? Is she doing this on purpose?
Iella had truly become the flower of the night.
Unmarried men were practically desperate just to dance with her once. Normally, he would have openly mocked their pathetic display—but right now, he didn’t look much different from them.
He had spent the past few days at the hotel intentionally reflecting on how he felt about Iella. Even while working, his mind would drift to her constantly.
Then there was Allen Ziberman’s tattled secret. It was something that should have been a big deal—but oddly enough, he couldn’t seem to care.
He had once been so desperate to uncover the truth that he investigated her background—but now, why did it feel like nothing? He surprised even himself with how tolerant he had become.
Then it started to blur. He realized—too late—that what had begun as mere curiosity had become something far more complicated.
Seeing Iella made him happy. Being near her banished boredom. He thought that was all it was—but the emotions were more tangled.
Was this burning heat tender jealousy—or was it selfish possessiveness?
He had no answer. But one thing he was certain of in that moment:
He was a selfish bastard.
As soon as the music ended, he strode towards Iella without hesitation. The next man waiting to dance with her stepped forward indignantly.
“The next dance is mine.”
At the man’s interruption, Franz’s blue eyes darkened threateningly. The man flinched and looked away.
“Iella. What will you do?”
Iella.
Just that name alone set the entire hall ablaze.
“Iella Clarance?”
“THE Iella Clarance?”
“Impossible!”
As her identity came to light, the hall erupted into chaos.
The face beneath the mask clearly panicked. Watching it was rather delightful.
“That’s not fair. Aren’t we not supposed to call real names at a masquerade?”
He understood Iella’s complaint—but he was in no mood to care about such details.
“Fine, Juliette. If you want to be called that, I’ll call you Juliette. Satisfied?”
Apologizing briefly to the man waiting, Iella took Franz’s hand.
“I don’t want to dance anymore.”
At her request, he led her to a set of chairs prepared at the side. If he could, he would have taken her out on the balcony to cool his head—but the flood of attention on them had yet to subside.
