Chapter 49
“Where have you three been?”
As soon as Erica, Aaron, and I stepped into the hall, Martin was standing there waiting.
For a moment, I thought he might scold Erica for sneaking out with me again.
“…Leaving me out, of all people.”
Martin turned his head away and coughed. But his words sounded more like a sulky complaint than anger.
So that’s what this was?
I almost felt sorry for him. Still, today’s outing was a top secret matter. Martin could never know.
He must not find out. Absolutely not.
Aaron and Erica darted their eyes nervously toward me. Remembering our promise that today’s matter would remain a secret, Erica suddenly jumped forward to cover for us.
“Did you see the invitation?”
“Invitation?”
Martin frowned, glancing between us.
Erica gave me a quick wink to signal she was handling it. Good girl.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, the palace sent an invitation to a tea party.”
I almost burst out laughing but quickly straightened my face and added a few words about the upcoming tea party.
After the tea party, there would also be a small evening ball.
It was an event that existed in the original story too.
I wasn’t sure if Erica could dance well enough, though. She was a noble lady, so surely she’d learned… right?
I clasped my hands and looked at her.
“There’ll be a ball in the evening. How are your dancing skills, my lady?”
“What kind of question is that? You doubt me?”
“I’ve never seen you dance before.”
“So you think I can’t? Nonsense!”
Erica puffed up with confidence, but beside me, Martin gave a short laugh through his nose, as if holding back a bigger one.
‘Why is he laughing?’
Trying to prove us wrong, Erica started moving around the room, bouncing and swaying awkwardly.
Is… that supposed to be dancing?
I pressed my palm to my forehead. Her dancing was a disaster. Not even the basic steps.
“I can’t watch this anymore.”
Martin shook his head firmly, as if saying he had endured long enough.
“You’re joking around, right?”
“I was doing my best!”
“No, this won’t do. We’ll need to fix this.”
If she danced like that, she’d be thrown out of the ballroom before even getting in.
Martin nodded sharply, agreeing.
We needed a solution. She had to practice. There was no way I could let her go to the ball like this.
My gaze naturally shifted to Martin. He was tall and composed—he’d make a good stand-in for Oscar.
“Aha! My lady, why don’t you practice dancing with your brother?”
Erica froze.
“W-with my brother?”
“Yes. Is there a problem?”
“I can’t even imagine holding hands with him.”
“You think I’d enjoy it either?”
Oh, right. They were real siblings. I forgot.
When I turned to Martin, he stood with arms crossed, scowling just like Erica.
He shook his head as if to say he disliked the idea just as much.
“But what choice do we have?”
“Who says we don’t?”
“What do you mean, who says?!”
They both shot back at me at the same time. Siblings indeed.
So they really didn’t want to be partners.
“Then what choice do we have…?”
A bad feeling crept over me.
“In my opinion, Aaron would be perfect.”
“…Aaron?”
Erica fanned herself dramatically.
“Well, if my brother refuses, then I guess there’s no helping it.”
Her tone didn’t sound reluctant at all. In fact, I caught a tiny smile on her lips.
I seized the chance.
“Truthfully, you want to dance with Aaron, don’t you?”
“Well, he’s better than my brother, isn’t he?”
She shrugged casually, not even embarrassed.
Martin glared at her, eyes sharp. I could almost feel the sparks flying.
“Let’s at least ask Aaron’s opinion,” I interrupted before it turned into a fight.
All three of us turned to him.
Aaron smiled sheepishly, scratching his head. Erica’s ears perked up nervously, waiting for his answer.
“First things first… do you even know how to dance?” Martin asked.
“I don’t really, but I’ll try my best.”
That was enough for Erica. She silently hopped in place, overjoyed.
Even Martin clapped in approval, though I was the only one left uneasy.
Well, it’s just practice.
As long as they practiced properly, I’d allow it.
Erica hid her blushing face behind her hands, then boldly stepped up to Aaron.
“Dance with me.”
Direct and simple.
I stared as if in a trance. Soon enough, the two were dancing as though no one else existed.
Step by step, slowly, softly, their movements matched. It was almost as if music played around them.
My mind replayed the earlier moment at the tavern, when Erica had clung happily to Aaron after being scared by rats.
I shook my head quickly, banishing the thought. The real ball was yet to come.
Just for today, my lady.
This was a small step back to prepare for a bigger leap forward.
I signaled Martin, and together we slipped quietly out, leaving the two behind.
From behind came Erica’s protesting shout:
“You can’t just leave like that!”
But I was sure she didn’t really mind.
Once outside in the garden, Martin finally spoke.
“You think it’s okay for us to just leave them?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you? You followed me out when I gestured.”
He smiled lightly. Clearly, he hadn’t liked watching his sister dance with another man.
Like any brother, it was hard to watch.
“Still, you understood what I meant right away.”
“Well, we’ve matched our moves before, haven’t we?”
…What?
Excuse me, husband, let’s be clear. The only thing we’ve matched before is our hands, not our lips!
Anyone overhearing that would take it the wrong way!
I hurriedly pressed my finger to his lips to shush him—only to misjudge the distance.
My fingertip brushed directly against his lips.
The soft warmth startled me, and I yanked my hand away, blushing furiously.
“W-watch your words. People might misunderstand. As if we’ve ever… kissed.”
Why was I stammering? Fool. Idiot.
My fingertip still tingled.
I sneaked a glance at Martin. He shook his head slightly, dark hair falling as he looked away, then met my eyes again.
His red eyes were so close now. I blinked rapidly, not knowing what to do.
Then he smiled brightly and held out his hand.
“Let’s do it too.”
“D-do what?”
“Practice. Or do you plan to dance without rehearsing?”
…Oh. Of course. The ball wasn’t only for Erica. I’d be dancing too.
With my husband.
Suddenly, my throat went dry. The memory of his lips against my finger popped back into my head at the worst time.
I squeezed my eyes shut and grabbed his hand.
He led the steps slowly, and I followed.
“Have we ever danced before?”
“Not once.”
“That’s a shame. But why are we practicing now?”
I fired questions rapidly, trying to distract from the closeness of our bodies.
“Because… who knows if I’ll ever get another chance.”
His quiet words sank into my ears.
…Was he saying he wanted to dance with me whenever possible?
I should’ve replied, but my throat closed up.
I can’t take this.
Every time his scent brushed past me, I felt ticklish and restless.
The two of us alone in the vast garden, moving in step together…
The atmosphere felt strangely romantic, making me hold my breath.
This was dangerous. Feelings could sprout where there had been none.
Is this really okay?
Our eyes met. His red gaze shimmered, and my heart pounded heavily.
Maybe that was the moment.
The beginning of something.
Sweet music seemed to play in my head, whether real or imagined.
Afraid my dark, hidden feelings might be revealed, I shut my eyes tightly.
