Chapter 11
The flowing music and the laughter of the crowd had long since faded into the background.
All Elizia could hear was the pounding of her own heartbeat.
His body was too close.
His face, gazing down at her, was too close.
Soon, Rakan took a step forward and began leading the dance.
Dancing was something she had done countless times before.
How many parties had she attended?
How many men’s hands had she held while dancing?
Yet she could say with certainty that she had never felt anything like this.
She couldn’t tell whether she was supposed to move to his right or spin beneath his hand.
Her thoughts were a mess.
All she had to do was follow his lead.
Walk when he walked.
Turn when he guided her.
It should have been simple.
So why was it so difficult?
In the end, she stepped on his foot.
What is wrong with me?
Elizia was horrified.
She had always been naturally talented.
Whether it was swordsmanship or dancing, things came easily to her.
She had never made such mistakes, even when she first learned ballroom dancing.
Even when she danced with Damian—the boy she had secretly admired—she had simply moved through the steps as though completing a routine.
Rakan tightened his grip on her hand.
He must have noticed her fumbling movements.
From that moment onward, Elizia felt like a puppet guided by invisible strings.
Whenever she lost balance, his movements naturally pulled her back into place.
Thanks to that, after some time, she was finally able to match his rhythm.
Fortunately.
“How many people have you danced with tonight?”
“Three.”
“Three, huh.”
Rakan sounded faintly sarcastic.
“For such a short amount of time, those idiots moved remarkably fast.”
Elizia chuckled.
“What about you, Senior? How many people have you danced with?”
“You’re the first.”
“The first?”
“You’re the only one who asked me.”
The only one who asked him?
Shouldn’t he have been the one asking girls?
Thinking that, Elizia lowered her gaze toward his chest.
Looking him in the eyes felt strangely embarrassing.
Since he was much taller than her, that was where her eyes naturally landed.
The pleasant scent he always carried.
The warmth of his body.
The way he effortlessly led a partner.
Everything suddenly felt unfamiliar.
As though she were meeting a stranger.
The arm around her waist felt strong.
His hands were slightly rough despite his refined appearance.
And those hands held hers firmly.
Perhaps it was accidental.
Or perhaps not.
His palm slowly brushed along her waist.
Elizia swallowed hard.
The large, hot hand surrounding her made her toes tingle.
Her shoulders kept stiffening.
This is strange.
When I danced with the other boys, I was having fun.
So why am I breaking into a cold sweat now?
It isn’t even hot.
In fact, it was the opposite.
A chill ran through her.
Goosebumps repeatedly rose along the back of her neck and wherever his arm touched her waist.
Yet her face felt increasingly warm.
As though all the blood in her body had rushed straight to her head.
Rakan stared down at Elizia as she continued avoiding his gaze.
“Are you hot?”
“Maybe.”
She wasn’t sure whether she was hot or cold.
Still staring stubbornly at the buttons on his coat, she answered vaguely.
“Then let’s go outside.”
Watching her peach-colored cheeks, Rakan smiled faintly.
Then he released her hand.
The arm around her waist loosened.
As their bodies separated, Elizia expected relief.
Instead, she felt disappointment.
A strange feeling.
Rakan stepped back.
The way he withdrew so cleanly made it hard to believe he had been holding her so tightly only moments before.
He gestured toward the entrance before turning around first.
Elizia followed after him.
The two arrived at a garden beside the ballroom entrance.
Light stones embedded throughout the grounds cast a captivating glow across the night.
Elizia sat on the edge of a fountain and watched the light spilling out from the ballroom.
An early summer breeze brushed against her dress.
The cool air gradually cleared her muddled thoughts.
Inside, chandeliers glittered like a dream.
Music and lively chatter drifted through the open doors.
Slowly, her racing heart began returning to normal.
Elizia broke the silence.
“Thank you for earlier.”
Rakan, who had been standing with his arms crossed while gazing at the night sky, turned his head.
“For what?”
“For putting a rose in my vase.”
She smiled awkwardly.
“I didn’t particularly want to become the Rose, but it was still bothering me. Losing publicly would have been embarrassing.”
“I didn’t realize there were things you cared about besides grades.”
His teasing earned him a glare.
“Anyway.”
Elizia looked away.
“After you voted for me, everyone else started putting roses in my vase too. It made me feel relieved. So… thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me.”
His expression remained calm.
“I simply gave my vote to the person who deserved it.”
He loved showing off when it came to his appearance.
Yet when it came to things like this, he acted as though it were nothing.
What a strange man.
Elizia laughed softly.
“To be honest, Senior Beth might suit the Rose title more than I do. I don’t think I’m particularly talented at promoting the school.”
Rakan leaned slightly closer.
“That’s not true.”
His voice was firm.
“No one works harder for the academy or their studies than you do.”
His gaze settled on her.
“If someone is going to represent the school, they should at least have that much dedication.”
Then he added casually:
“And for the record, I like that side of you.”
“…Senior.”
Elizia blinked.
“Do you want something from me?”
“What?”
“I don’t have any money. I’m living on a limited allowance here.”
Why was he suddenly being so nice?
Where were the sarcastic comments?
The cynical remarks?
As she stared at him with wide eyes, Rakan burst into laughter.
Apparently, this was not the response he had expected.
Leaving him to laugh by himself, Elizia turned her attention back toward the sky.
The white moon was slowly disappearing behind the clouds.
Then another thought occurred to her.
When Senior Rakan put a rose in my vase, everyone followed him.
Can a high-ranking Imperial noble really influence people that much?
I guess the Empire really is different.
“Still, it’s fascinating.”
She glanced at him.
“The moment you voted for me, everyone else followed.”
“That’s simply how Imperial power works.”
Rakan answered as though it were obvious.
Elizia laughed.
That’s simply how Imperial power works.
The confidence in his voice was absurd.
Anyone listening might think he was a member of the Imperial Family itself.
The people who truly controlled the Empire were supposed to be figures like Crown Prince Nobila Herve Karund.
Not this arrogant man named Rakan.
“‘That’s how Imperial power works,’ huh?”
She smirked.
“You sound like you’re the Crown Prince yourself.”
“…”
At her words, Rakan fell silent.
For a moment, only the sounds of insects and falling fountain water remained.
Rakan stared at her.
His expression was difficult to read.
As though he were remembering something.
Or reconsidering something.
You sound like you’re the Crown Prince yourself.
The irony was almost painful.
Because he really was.
The First Imperial Prince.
The man practically guaranteed to inherit the throne.
And yet here was Elizia saying those words with complete sincerity.
Rakan continued staring at her.
Elizia met his gaze without understanding.
Her violet eyes looked unusually clear beneath the moonlit sky.
Finally, he spoke.
“Elizia.”
“Yes?”
“Have you ever seen His Imperial Highness in person?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Not yet.”
Rakan crossed his arms.
An amused look appeared on his face.
“How have you managed not to?”
“This academy isn’t that large.”
“Well…”
Elizia shrugged.
“I’m not interested in him, and he’s not interested in me.”
She smiled.
“There are plenty of students here. Besides, he’s Imperial royalty and I’m royalty from an enemy nation. Maybe it’s better this way.”
“…Do you at least know what he looks like?”
“Of course.”
She answered confidently.
“I’ve seen his portrait over a hundred times. It was painted by a court artist.”
At that point, Rakan couldn’t help laughing.
Several conversations from the past suddenly came flooding back.
The times she had asked him what the Crown Prince was like.
The time she scolded him for opening cookies that were supposedly meant for the Crown Prince.
Everything suddenly made sense.
Rakan reached a simple conclusion.
An utterly ridiculous one.
She has absolutely no idea who I am.
So that’s why.
At last, everything fit together.
Lowering his head, he hid the laughter threatening to escape.
A moment later, after regaining his composure, he looked back up.
Though keeping the amusement out of his voice was difficult.
“If you get the chance, show me that portrait someday.”
“Why?”
“I’m curious how talented Ortigia’s court painters are.”
“Of course.”
Elizia nodded proudly.
“Our court painter, Matteo, is the best. His brushwork is incredibly delicate and beautiful. You’ll be moved when you see it.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Very much so.
Just what kind of face had that artist painted?
How badly had he distorted reality that Elizia could stare directly at the subject and remain completely oblivious?
Suppressing another laugh, Rakan looked at her.
Elizia sat beside the fountain, flicking water with her fingertips.
Completely unaware that the man she spoke to so casually was the very Crown Prince she kept mentioning.
It seemed impossible.
Yet somehow, with Elizia, it felt entirely plausible.
She had always been unpredictable.
And besides, the name he used here wasn’t his real one.
It was an alias.
Of course, students from the Empire and those familiar with Imperial affairs all knew the truth.
But Elizia had always declared:
I have no interest in the Crown Prince.
Perhaps that was why she had never bothered looking closer.
This is amusing.
A small smile appeared on Rakan’s lips.
Maybe I’ll keep watching for a while.
She really was an absurdly entertaining princess.
Eventually, the two left the garden and returned to the ballroom.
Unlike the quiet darkness outside, the interior remained bright and lively.
As they entered, Elizia immediately noticed a vase overflowing with roses.
The vase labeled:
Elizia Woder Ortigia
The party was nearing its end.
The voting was nearly finished.
There was no need to count.
The result was obvious.
This year’s Rose of the Royal Academy of Swena would not be Beth.
It would be her.
Elizia Woder Ortigia.
She wasn’t sure whether to feel happy or burdened.
Taking a seat near the stage, she glanced toward Beth.
The girl who normally stood at the center of every gathering was sitting in silence.
Her lips were tightly pressed together.
Her frustration painfully obvious.
Four more songs passed.
Then every light in the ballroom went out.
The headmaster with the white mustache was preparing for another dramatic entrance.
This time, to announce the Rose and Lily.
Magical spotlights gathered around the stage.
Deep music rumbled through the hall.
Then the headmaster appeared like the star of a grand performance.
After thanking everyone for attending and encouraging a round of applause, he cleared his throat.
“Now then.”
His voice echoed across the ballroom.
“It is time to announce this year’s Lily and Rose of the Royal Academy of Swena!”
The long-awaited moment had arrived.
Small magical flames flickered around him.
He really does enjoy being the center of attention.
Suppressing a laugh, Elizia watched.
Surprisingly, she wasn’t nervous at all.
She had never wanted this.
Judging by the flowers in the vases, the Lily would undoubtedly be Frederick.
And the Rose would almost certainly be—
Elizia Woder Ortigia.
A spotlight swept across the crowd.
Then stopped.
On Frederick.
“This year’s Lily is Frederick Watts of the Kasutra Empire!”
Cheers erupted instantly.
Applause filled the ballroom.
Congratulations echoed from every direction.
The result had been expected.
Yet everyone seemed genuinely happy for him.
He must have quite the network of friends, Elizia thought.
Meanwhile, the spotlight that had been shining on Frederick began moving once more through the crowd.
Searching.
Looking for the student who had been chosen as this year’s Rose.
