Chapter 19
The Ball
A new melody played by the orchestra pushed the guests forward with gentle force.
Everyone, eager to enjoy every corner of the ballroom they had only glimpsed until now, walked toward the center.
A different kind of light—unlike the one that had illuminated the hall earlier—now poured over the world.
When she looked up, she saw a massive chandelier, likely prepared solely for this event. It was made by stacking numerous raw, high-grade magic stones that emitted their natural light—golden, silver, and soft rainbow hues—casting a gentle glow across the hall.
Flags of the royal family and imperial family decorated the walls, along with banners representing the nations of the guests.
Far behind, where the food was prepared, ropes marked off a restricted area, and beyond them lavish arrangements of hundreds of roses, peonies, orchids, and other flowers were displayed.
Every sight belonged to a world far removed from the everyday—everything around her sparkled beautifully like gemstones.
Especially the participants in their colorful and elegant dresses—each one more eye-catching than the last.
The realization I’ve really returned welled up in Sena’s chest, and yet she hesitated to reach out, as if fearing she might touch something forbidden.
I don’t deserve any of this.
That thought made her chest ache.
To forget it, to at least enjoy this moment, Sena drank the champagne in her hand.
After returning the glass to a waiter’s tray, Sena moved to join the line of young women waiting on the dance floor.
Nearly a hundred girls—aged sixteen to twenty-four—waited there, dreaming of dancing with the Crown Prince.
Opposite them, an equal number of young noblemen were lined up. One glance showed they, too, had been carefully selected—sons of distinguished houses and wealthy families.
The men stood in the right row. After Sena joined the women’s line on the left side, the orchestra began the first number.
Several ballerinas and dancers entered the center stage.
They performed a short yet refined routine that captivated everyone.
When they left under a shower of applause, more than a dozen professional ballroom dancers replaced them, filling the floor.
They were elite social dancers—here to ease the guests’ tension, enliven the atmosphere, and prepare everyone for the first dance.
The opening waltz began—an upbeat and brisk piece—and the professionals glided across the center of the hall.
Their outfits were unified:
The women wore pure white dresses reminiscent of silver.
The men wore deep black tailcoats, like ink.
White and black flowers seemed to bloom alternately across the hall.
It was breathtaking.
Watching them, Sena suddenly remembered when she had last taken ballroom lessons.
Nearly six years ago.
It had been a mandatory class at the boarding academy, one all students were required to take.
But even before entering the academy, Sena had often been brought to social gatherings, and her mother had hired tutors to educate her from a young age.
She had never imagined it would take so long before her past lessons became useful again.
As the dancers exited, she overheard some guests saying they were royal court dancers.
Meaning—she had just enjoyed one of the finest performances in the world.
Wonderful.
As her nerves finally eased and her heart settled, Sena saw him on the opposite side.
The one person she should not have been looking for.
She knew she shouldn’t let her gaze wander in search of him—but found herself doing exactly that.
“Stop. You can’t look for him. You mustn’t.”
…She had promised herself she would leave after one dance.
After his speech ended, she would go.
But that resolution crumbled instantly.
Worse—her own body betrayed her, drinking in the air of the ballroom, already poised to dance at any moment.
See you later.
That promise of his echoed inside her, and another version of herself desperately longed to meet him again.
No, she scolded her heart.
Yet her feet refused to step out of the line.
Even if his words were sincere, accepting them would expose her to a dangerous and overwhelming tide.
Her job, her home—her very right to remain in this kingdom could be lost.
She knew how suffocating it was to hide her identity and pray no one discovered she was merely a hotel servant.
“Besides… those girls are far more…”
Sena compared herself with the young women standing beside her.
Most of the nearly hundred girls here were more beautiful than she was.
She wasn’t inferior in youth, but she felt she lost to the brilliance of their talent and charm.
The moment Robert saw that radiance, he would surely forget all about her.
The professional dancers returned to display another graceful performance.
When they exited, the moment finally came—the guests’ turn to dance.
Sena heard a familiar tune.
Her heart leapt.
It was the incredibly difficult piece her tutor had first taught her—its rhythm and tempo challenging for even adults.
When Sena mastered it, her academy instructor had praised her endlessly.
And now, instead of the academy dance hall, she was hearing it again—on a stage this grand.
It was the very piece she used to practice with Mia, telling her someday she wanted to dance it with a true prince.
Then came the words that set her heart racing:
In formal Old Imperial language, the master of ceremonies announced the beginning of the ball:
“Ladies and gentlemen!
The Grand Ball begins—El-Ish!”
