CHAPTER 84………………………….
At the princess’s birthday banquet earlier, Claire hadn’t particularly run into Roderick, so she felt a little flustered now.
His obvious gaze was unpleasant, so she deliberately turned away—just then, the Emperor’s opening address began.
“Tonight is a proud night celebrating the founding of Tricen. I thank all of you who have dedicated yourselves to the prosperity of the nation, as well as our honored guests who have come to celebrate with us. I hope everyone enjoys this evening.”
As soon as his words ended, thunderous applause burst out.
The court orchestra prepared the music for the first dance. Stepping toward the center of the hall with Theodore, Claire thought:
‘Come to think of it, this is the first time I’m dancing with His Highness.’
Although they had attended many parties together before, she had never been to a ball.
Realizing this only now, Claire grew nervous. Regardless of who her partner was, it had simply been far too long since she had last danced.
‘If I make a mistake, it’ll be a disaster…’
They clasped hands, placing the other hand on shoulder and waist. Claire cautiously asked:
“Your Highness, do you know how to dance?”
“…?”
Theodore looked at her quizzically at the sudden question, then let out a short laugh.
“Do you take me for a fool, my lady?”
His tone carried his incredulity, and Claire felt slightly embarrassed.
Once the music started, Theodore led her with ease. Her fears of stumbling were pointless—it was smooth and natural.
“There are so many fools staring blankly at you tonight.”
As he held her slender waist and spun her once, Theodore whispered.
Tonight Claire had dressed elegantly and alluringly, fitting for the eve of the festival. It was no wonder people kept sneaking glances at her.
Glancing at those openly gawking, Claire retorted:
“As if Your Highness is any different.”
With his broad forehead exposed and strikingly handsome features, many women’s gazes were fixed on him.
Even young ladies dancing with other partners nearby were gazing at Theodore with burning admiration, and Claire couldn’t help but let out a wry laugh.
Still, staring at someone else’s partner like that is a bit much…
“Ah…!”
Distracted by her thoughts, she accidentally stepped on her own hem and stumbled.
Luckily, before she could fall, a large hand firmly supported her back.
“You need to be careful.”
A low, deep voice brushed her ear. Startled, Claire lifted her head, only to find Theodore’s face suddenly close to hers—the distance between them had shrunk when he caught her fall.
“When you’re dancing with me, focus only on me.”
Even while bearing all her weight by himself, Theodore continued the dance as if nothing had happened.
Through the uniform she could feel the strength of his arms and chest, his seemingly lean but solidly built frame.
“Don’t look at anyone else.”
“…Ah, yes.”
Meeting his blue eyes snapped Claire back to her senses, and she corrected her posture.
It felt strange. The boy she had known since childhood had grown into a man—that realization suddenly struck her.
She sneaked a sidelong glance at his sharp, refined features and tried to sound nonchalant.
“You dance really well.”
“I practiced a lot.”
Theodore answered honestly, then added:
“So I wouldn’t make mistakes when dancing with the person I want to dance with.”
“Hm, so you’ve danced a lot with others before?”
“You’re almost the first. Especially by my own will and not by force—this is the very first time. That’s why it feels so different.”
His lips curved slightly.
Hearing his words, Claire recalled Priscilla’s youth. She had married not long after her debut into society, so she had been forced to dance only with Brian Muten.
Had the crown prince endured a similar period, compelled by his uncle?
Theodore’s gaze lingered on her, then he asked abruptly:
“What about you?”
“I… it’s not my first time dancing by choice, but it still feels refreshing.”
Though it was her first time dancing with Theodore, he was more skilled than expected—it changed how she saw him.
It was a fairly positive remark, but Theodore, not catching her nuance, was taken aback.
“Not the first time…?”
He had assumed she would be the same as him, but apparently not.
Something twisted inside him. His voice dropped lower as he asked:
“Then who did you willingly dance with before?”
“My father.”
Claire answered without hesitation.
That had been the very first dance of her life: practicing hard with her twin brother beforehand, and then dancing with her father at her debut.
‘But if we’re talking strictly about Claire Labelle, then His Highness is the first.’
But she couldn’t reveal all those details, so she glossed over it.
“I practiced a lot with Father, so we danced often.”
“Ah, your father. Then I understand.”
Theodore nodded, his face peculiarly serene again.
Thus ended their first dance.
Neither of them had any intention of dancing with anyone else, so they stepped aside from the center of the hall.
“I have someone I’d like to meet separately. Is it alright if I move around alone?”
“Of course. If you need help, just tell me.”
“Alright. See you later then.”
Parting from Theodore, Claire slowly blended into the crowd.
Unseen, a furtive gaze followed her.
Roderick could not recover from the shock. He had long heard that his cousin’s lover was beautiful.
At his sister’s birthday, he had wanted to get a closer look, but circumstances forced him to admire only from afar.
‘Well, she did look decent.’
Even her faint silhouette had hinted at beauty.
But that was nothing compared to now. Tonight, seeing Claire right beside Theodore at such close range—
Her deep blue dress, like the night sky, hugged her slender figure. The pearled headband atop her flowing golden hair gleamed under the chandeliers.
Her delicate features on smooth, fair skin, coupled with gentle eyes that matched her pure aura, struck directly at Roderick’s taste.
An intensity unlike anything before swept through him.
Not knowing that her daffodil-shaped earrings and necklace were Theodore’s gifts, he simply marveled at her beauty that rivaled diamonds.
“Brother Theodore, I envy you. To walk around with such a beauty…”
The words slipped out before he realized, and his eyes kept chasing Claire.
When she parted from Theodore and strolled alone across the hall, he wanted to approach her, perhaps even strike up a conversation.
But—
“Roderick, don’t cause trouble. Too many eyes are watching.”
Melissa, quick to notice his intentions, cut him off firmly.
Deflated, he had no choice but to give up.
Melissa spread open her fan and alternated glances between her sulking brother and Claire.
‘Hmm…’
A fleeting glint of intrigue passed through her red eyes before fading.
Meanwhile, unaware of the imperial siblings’ attention, Claire was searching for the delegation from the Kingdom of Eldor.
‘Ah, there they are…!’
At last, she spotted them on one side of the hall and took a step forward—
Thud.
Someone bumped into her shoulder, and she staggered back. As she turned to apologize, her brows instinctively furrowed.
‘Brian Muten.’
By coincidence, she had collided with Duke Muten, who was also making his way toward the Eldor delegation.
“Oh, my poor shoulder.”
The duke, who was nearly three times her size, exaggeratedly clutched the spot.
Claire didn’t even feel like laughing at his theatrics; she merely bowed with a blank expression.
“Forgive me, Duke.”
Not wanting to waste words, she kept her apology brief and tried to leave.
“W-wait!”
The duke stopped her.
Plagued by years of hardships and his longing for Priscilla, his twisted desires had even extended to Claire, who resembled her. He let out nonsense:
“By chance, my lady, you didn’t bump into me on purpose, did you?”
“…What?”
“Because you wanted to make a connection with me.”
With a greasy smile and a sly look, the duke spoke.
Up until now, whenever he made such jokes, women would laugh lightly—even if they hated it, they dared not openly oppose him.
But Claire’s brows scrunched up without restraint. She was far too used to this kind of behavior.
Before she had been forced into marriage, Duke Muten had thrown the same slimy flirtations at Priscilla whenever he saw her at parties.
Priscilla had been eighteen then. Now Claire was nineteen—hardly any different.
‘This bastard has lost his mind.’
