Debutante (2)
The night before the debutante ball. The night deepened, and the silence deepened further still. Moonlight slipped through the window, draping faint silver shadows across the room. Elizabeth sat quietly beside the bed, gazing down at Leo's peacefully sleeping face.
She couldn't sleep, her heart trembling with excitement—dangerously so. If I weren't your dad, what do you think that would make us? That single question he'd tossed out lingered in her mind, refusing to fade. The moment she'd heard it, she'd harbored the greatest expectation of her life, buried deep within.
Her emotions then had been overwhelmingly intense. Her heart pounded like it was being beaten with a club, screaming thump-thump, her breath ragged like waves crashing in. Her vision blurred, the world's sounds fading away. But Leo alone—wearing that secretive expression—remained vividly clear.
That one phrase wasn't just a question. It was a stake driven into Elizabeth's certainty. What did it mean? Even imagining it was a delightful mystery. If not as dad? If Leo Valentine weren't my dad, what would we be? The answer was disarmingly simple. Without the veil of "dad," they were just man and woman. Not father and daughter, but primal male and female. Nothing more.
That was the very relationship she'd longed for. The starting line to become lovers, and perhaps even husband and wife. That's what Elizabeth believed.
"You wanted me too, didn't you, Dad...?"
She whispered seductively into the ear of Leo, deep in slumber under a sleep spell. "That's why you tested me, right?" Her hand slipped under his shirt, trailing slowly upward. Past the hard ridges of his abs, to his solar plexus and chest. Elizabeth savored the feel of his chest and collarbone with her fingertips, then climbed atop him.
"Me too, Dad. I want you." Her hand slid from his chest to his neck, gripping his jaw and turning his face to hers. She kissed him, lifting her leg over him. To become an alluring woman for Leo, Elizabeth had trained her body. Not quite like Hildegard, but her legs were long and toned. She tormented his lower body with them—her knee prodding his abs, her toes settling at his groin.
That heavy presence nestled there. With delicate movements, Elizabeth toyed with it—twisting her ankle this way and that, poking the sack below. Squish. Her slender body settled lightly atop him, knees splaying like wings to embrace his waist softly. Her porcelain-white hips came to rest over his groin.
Feeling the prodding sensation against her groin, she leaned forward, lowering her head. Whoosh—his face drew near, as if time had frozen. She'd seen it for three years, but no matter how many times, she always wanted to see it again. His hair gleamed silver under the cold moonlight, cascading like a curtain. In this silence, severed from the world, it felt like only the two of them remained.
Elizabeth caressed Leo's face with gentle fingers. He slept so peacefully, as if he'd laid down all the world's worries. Her dad, meant only for her. She dipped her head lower, drawing even closer. Their noses touched. At that heart-fluttering distance, she whispered to his soul.
"Wait for me. Tomorrow, I'll confess my feelings—then take me in your arms."
Her petal-soft lips parted, claiming his. Mm, smooch. The sound of two souls melting into one. One hand that had been stroking his face trailed downward—neck, collarbone, chest, abs—until it reached his groin. That massive desire too big for her grasp. How long have I craved this—you have no idea.
"Nngh... I love you, I love you..."
A lady's aroused moan shattered the night's stillness, filling Leo's bedroom. She devoured his lips like a spring gale, twisting her hips in a dance to etch his feel into her body. Creak, creak... No guilt flowed. Now she knew his heart. This love wasn't one-sided—it was a symphony of souls. A man and woman who loved each other. Since he loved her too, this was no crime, but fate's inevitability.
*
In the mirror, she appeared as pure as a shy blossom—innocent like a lily in a dew-kissed morning garden, yet brimming with the passion of a midsummer rose. The perfect harmony of girlish purity and womanly maturity, at the pinnacle of beauty.
"Wow..."
The maid helping with her makeup covered her mouth in awe. How could she not? Porcelain skin, bright golden hair, silk dress. She shone like an angel descended from heaven. Elizabeth smiled satisfied at her reflection, then fluttered toward the courtyard where he awaited, like a butterfly's wingbeat.
Before the carriage, her beloved waited.
"Dad."
He looked up at Elizabeth. His eyes shook like fierce waves. His expression went blank, lost in a dream. The face of someone struck by profound shock—just as she'd imagined countless times.
"How do I look?"
"..."
Swish. She spun gracefully, as taught in social dance lessons.
"...Pretty."
"Good."
Clack, clack. Like the toll of fate's pendulum, she approached and extended her hand.
"Will you escort me?"
"...As much as you like, my lady."
He took her hand with the delicacy of handling a priceless treasure.
*
On the road to the Autumn Palace where the debutante ball would unfold. Tall trees densely lined the forest path, their lush leaves desperately blocking the moonlight. The woods brimmed with chilling cold. Clop-clop, clop-clop. The carriage carrying them raced along.
The skilled coachman guided it smoothly even over rough terrain.
"..."
"..."
Elizabeth gazed at the man seated opposite. At 33, he looked impossibly youthful—a handsome man. Leo usually went without adornment, but tonight was different. He'd been styled at a professional salon. His hair parted neatly, his patchy beard shaved clean. Leo rested his chin on the window frame, rolling his eyes in search of a moon hidden among shadows.
Elizabeth clasped her fists on her lap, head bowed to avoid looking at him. If she stared more, her head might melt—the trembling that gripped her whole body. She glared at the back of her hand, desperately steadying her wildly thumping heart with deep breaths.
"Daughter."
"Y-yes?"
"Nervous?"
"No...!"
Leo turned. His warm gaze and smile spread softly toward her. The heart she'd barely calmed leaped like a deer in the woods.
Leo gently took her hand from her lap.
"Don't be too tense."
"...I'm not tense."
"You're the prettiest."
"..Huh?"
Thump-thump.
"Our daughter is the prettiest."
"Really...?"
He nodded at her question.
"The prettiest woman I've ever seen."
She lost control at those words. Thump-thump. Her heart raced wildly.
"Th-then. Prettier than your girlfriend?"
"Than Hildegard?"
"...Yeah. Who's prettier?"
Elizabeth swallowed, awaiting his answer. Hildegard. Annoyingly, her beauty was undeniable. If Elizabeth was a girl-like beauty with dewy charm, Hildegard was an imperious, haughty beauty like an eagle of the skies.
Leo fell silent, as if pondering, then spoke.
"Our daughter, obviously."
"Ah..."
Elizabeth let out a sigh of joy. His answer filled her with such delight she nearly wept. It wasn't empty flattery for his daughter. He truly saw her as more beautiful than Hildegard. That fact sent her to the threshold of heaven in ecstasy.
Overwhelmed, Elizabeth replied.
"You're the handsomest in the world to me too, Dad."
"Thanks."
Thump-thump... Her heart echoed. Like background music, it wouldn't leave her ears. Elizabeth anxiously awaited their arrival at the Autumn Palace. The hour's journey felt eternal. There, she yearned to confess her feelings at last.
She'd perfected the plan in her dreams a thousand times. Arrive first, mingle a bit, then dance with him under the moonlight. Lead him perfectly with her diligently practiced steps, conveying her heart. And finally, at the mystical hour when the moon hung highest, confess eternal love in an empty garden.
Now, it's really the end. Elizabeth smiled, turning to the window. It had been a long, long endurance. She'd hidden feelings too heavy to contain for years. But that patience ended today. Now, truly, it was over...
Bang! It was then that she locked eyes directly with the flashing light piercing the darkness.