Debutante (6): Tremors at the Grand Entrance
Leo and Elizabeth arrived at the Autumn Palace and waited before the ballroom doors. Click... Elizabeth's shoes came to a halt on the marble floor. She gazed at the golden doors. Enduring the throbbing pain in her ankle, she felt the firm grip of Leo's hand.
I can do this. I have to. Even if her ligaments tore, it would be fine. So please—just hold out until the end of their perfect first dance.
"Ready, kiddo?"
"...Yes."
Leo enveloped her with a warm gaze. That benevolent father of hers, who seemed ready to accept anything. Would he truly accept her confession as well?
He has to. They'd come this far. There was no turning back now. She had to move forward.
Creeeak... The massive doors parted to either side. Light poured out. The chandelier's golden glow bathed Leo and her in its radiance.
Leo stood at her right. The two entered side by side. To anyone watching, they were the picture of perfection. Father and daughter. But after tonight, everything would change completely. She would make it so.
Hoo— Elizabeth drew in a breath. Her fingertips trembled faintly. Sensing it, Leo gently steadied her hand.
"It's okay. It'll be fine."
"...Yes, it will."
Elizabeth nodded and looked up at him. He gazed down at her warmly. That warmth terrified her. She was tense. She trembled.
Click, click. They advanced. Elizabeth held her back straight and her chin high. Step by step, into the light of the chandeliers.
"Wow..."
"Elizabeth...?"
Gasps of admiration erupted. With every movement, people's gazes clung to her like magnets. Men and women, young and old. Nobles and royals alike—all focused on one person alone.
Pure white light shattered against her golden hair like fragments of glass. Her golden lashes were long and lush, as if dusted with snowfall. Each blink veiled and unveiled the blue jewels beneath. A small, refined face. Delicately sculpted features. She didn't seem made by dress and makeup; she seemed born for this stage.
With every step, the hem of her white gown fluttered softly. Waves of silk cascaded around her. Those steeped in faith momentarily mistook her for an angel...
Inside the ballroom, she was more beautiful than anyone. But no one knew. The tremor hidden beneath that splendor. That she had come tonight to confess her love.
Elizabeth exchanged brief words with her friends, then approached the king alongside Leo. He looked down at them from his throne atop the stairs.
"Welcome. Leo Valentine. And Elizabeth Valentine. Congratulations on your debut."
A smile of welcome on the surface. But Elizabeth's eyes pierced through to the emotions beneath: bewilderment, anger, irritation, doubt—all masked behind that forced grin.
"We are grateful for Your Highness's grace."
And Elizabeth was no different. She bowed with a flawless smile. But inside, murderous rage boiled. She wanted to strike down that king right then and there. Slice him, tear him, burn him, crush him to pulp. She didn't care if he was a king. She just wanted to destroy everything blocking her path.
I have to endure... She gathered her fraying patience. Just get through tonight. Kill him or spare him later.
"Were you delayed? You arrived just in the nick of time."
"Yes. The carriage wheel came off on the way."
"I see."
The king smiled in relief. Whatever their life had been like, they wouldn't reveal the attack. That worked in his favor. No one would know of his misdeeds.
"However."
Her icy gaze lifted to the king.
"Some rat pups crawled out along the road and caused a nuisance."
"What did you do with the rats?"
Leo chuckled dismissively.
"Stepped on 'em. A few were pretty plump, but rats are rats."
The king's retainers flinched.
"I see. Glad you made it on time. Enjoy the evening."
Beautiful flowers draw bees. The world of people is no different. Beautiful women draw men. But there's a certain level to it. Approaching a beauty so breathtaking was no easy feat. Elizabeth was just that.
No man dared approach her. Or rather, couldn't.
"They're probably intimidated 'cause you're too pretty."
Leo whispered. His warm breath brushed her ear, and Elizabeth reacted instinctively.
"Doesn't Dad feel intimidated?"
She gripped his hand tightly and leaned affectionately against his shoulder. She curved her eyes playfully, coquettish. The men watching her had their hearts pounding fiercely.
"Leo."
Then, a tall beauty in military uniform approached and called to him. It was Hildegard von Quyrhalstein.
"Eli made it too."
She looked from Leo to Elizabeth in turn. Elizabeth glared at Hildegard with guarded wariness. Hildegard ignored Elizabeth's hostility as best she could and turned to Leo.
"Any trouble on the way?"
"Carriage wheel came off midway. Took time to fix it."
On the way here, he'd pondered whether to tell Hildegard the truth. His conclusion: Don't.
She wouldn't believe it anyway. Attacked en route, ordered by the king himself. Reason: refusing the marriage proposal. Yet the two of them emerged unscathed and arrived at the very palace of the man who'd ordered it.
I wouldn't believe it either. No one would buy this absurd tale—not Hildegard, not anyone.
"Here, there's a fallen leaf."
Hildegard reached out. Now closer, her natural scent wafted subtly—she wore no perfume. Leo closed his eyes briefly, inhaling her aroma.
"Right here."
As he did, she brushed the leaf from his shoulder and held it up proudly. Leo placed his hand on her cheek.
"Ah..."
Hildegard's cheek flushed pink. Leo's touch didn't stop. He tucked the stray lock of hair from her cheek behind her ear, then trailed his fingers down her neckline. Gently, he grasped her waist.
"P-people are watching."
Hildegard floundered, her face ripening to tomato red. Contrary to her stern demeanor, her emotions showed richly—but only for Leo.
"Even better?"
Mwah. Leo kissed her forehead. Hildegard ducked her head like a shy girl.
"What are you doing in front of everyone..."
Tap tap. A small protest. She lightly punched his chest. An adorably futile gesture.
"Am I seeing this wrong? Or is that really her?"
"...That's what you're seeing."
The soldiers watching her gaped. This wasn't the major they knew—the one who handled affairs with a stone face. They'd never seen her smile; they called her the "cold-blooded soldier." Now she beamed like an innocent country girl, leaving them brain-dead for a moment.
Meanwhile, onlookers whispered about Leo and Hildegard.
"Quyrhalstein?"
"Heard she split with Falkmart and found someone new. Guess it's that guy."
"Of all people, a married man."
"A commoner, no less."
Genius daughter. Commoner husband. Quyrhalstein. What better fodder for gossip?
As scornful stares gathered, Leo released Hildegard's waist.
"Time's almost up. Catch you later."
"Then I'll return to duty. Been away too long."
"See you later."
"Yes. Eli too..."
Hildegard's gaze shifted to Elizabeth. She trailed off. Elizabeth watched them from close by. Unconcealed impatience and jealousy etched her face. Like a child refusing to share, she clung tightly to Leo's arm.
Hildegard gave a wry smile and waved.
"Eli, see you later. Congrats on your debut."
"... "
Elizabeth offered no reply. She stared coldly, as if at an enemy.
Elegant melodies flowed. The orchestra in formal attire struck their first notes. The debutante ball truly began.
"Guess it's starting."
"...Yeah."
Elizabeth nodded, glancing toward the edge of the ballroom. Hildegard watched Leo. Then a bright smile bloomed on her face—because Leo had looked her way. Ecstatic from just his gaze, utterly radiant. The two exchanged warm looks.
"....."
Elizabeth was nowhere in that exchange. She was the closest to him now, holding his hand. Yet Leo's eyes were fixed solely on Hildegard. They seemed a perfectly complete pair. No room for her.
"Dad."
Elizabeth tugged his hand, demanding attention.
"Yeah?"
"We practiced dancing, right?"
"Yeah... a bit. Not sure if I can pull it off."
"Don't worry. I'll lead."
"But I'm the man—and your dad..."
"Just follow my lead."
And watch. See how perfectly I suit you. How much I've prepared for this moment.
"Miss Valentine?"
Then, a handsome young man emerged from the crowd. Women's faces flushed at the sight of him.
"I'm Albert Rollingel."
"...Yes? And?"
Elizabeth eyed him dismissively, as if to say so what?
"You seem without a partner for the father's dance..."
Albert glanced at Leo and continued.
"Might I have this dance?"