Debutante (7)
Albert Rollingel. Head of the Rollingel family, one of the kingdom's four great houses. He had lost his parents at a young age and become the family head. He was a man of exceptional talent. But separately from that, he was notorious for his scandals with women. He was frequently spotted entering and leaving brothels, and more than once, he was caught with married noblewomen. Even after his engagement to Princess Mandelia, Albert's philandering didn't stop. If anything, rumors said it had gotten worse. He made no distinction between commoners or nobles, virgins or married women. If a pretty girl caught his eye, he had to have her.
The king turned a blind eye to Albert. Warnings were for people who could change. Reciting scripture to a guy who wouldn't budge no matter how many times you told him was pointless. Besides, Albert was the de facto leader of the noble faction. His behavior might be like a dog in heat, but his political acumen was formidable. For the king, the best course was to avoid stirring up unnecessary trouble. And Albert knew this better than anyone. The moment he realized even the king couldn't touch him, he started openly cavorting with women.
"It seems you don't have a partner and are dancing with your father..."
But even so.
"Would you dance with me?"
Asking another woman to dance while his fiancée glared daggers was beyond the pale—it was a betrayal of basic decency.
"...The Duke of Rollingel, asking another woman?"
"Where's the princess?"
"Well, even for the duke, that's a bit..."
Albert's reputation was well-known in high society. But no one had expected it to reach this level. People whispered about his brazen rudeness.
"What do you say?"
Albert smiled brightly at Elizabeth.
Elizabeth. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. I want her. I want to possess her. He was the kind of man who had to get whatever he desired to feel satisfied. He lived by his urges, and he usually fulfilled them. He had bedded countless women and built countless connections. But Elizabeth was different. She stirred not just desire, but an obsession bordering on madness. Even now, in this instant. Enough to make him forget this was the princess's official and solemn debutante ball.
"...I believe you have a fiancée."
"Ah, it's fine. We can do the second dance."
"I don't want to."
Elizabeth spat the words like she was swallowing glass. Her jaw clenched, her hands gripping the hem of her dress as if to tear it apart. She was on the verge of exploding.
Please. Just stop bothering me. Why do you keep getting in my way? Why me, of all people?
Elizabeth took a deep breath to steady her burning insides. Then she glanced behind Albert. Princess Mandelia stood there, face flushed red with fury. She glared at Elizabeth like a rival in love—not at Albert, but at her.
Why are you glaring at me? He's the one cheating on you.
Elizabeth didn't avert her eyes from the princess's blazing stare. Reason and instinct—she teetered on that edge.
"I'm going to dance with my dad."
"....."
"So go away. Please."
Elizabeth pleaded.
"Go dance with your fiancée. Over there."
"...Didn't you hear who I am?"
"I heard you loud and clear... so get lost."
Those blue eyes stared at him as if they could tear him apart. Meeting that gaze head-on left Albert speechless.
"Uh, uh..."
His lips trembled. His muscles stiffened.
"A-alright. I'll go."
"...You okay?"
Leo scanned Elizabeth's face with concern.
"Y-yes. I'm fine. Really..."
Elizabeth nodded frantically and grabbed Leo's hand. The warmth nearly made her break.
"Now let's dance. I'll lead, so just follow me."
"Alright, I'll trust my girl."
Leo smiled. Elizabeth's heart pounded wildly. The dance began.
"Put your hand here."
Elizabeth extended her hand. Their hands met. Their eyes locked. In that moment, the world's noise faded away. There was only her and Leo.
One step, crossing her feet back, dipping her waist gracefully. She moved to the swelling music. One, two, three. Two, two, three... Just as she'd learned at school. Just as she'd practiced, sacrificing sleep. Elizabeth poured her heart into every step. She led, and Leo followed. It was a bit clumsy, but Leo gave his all to match her. His dancing was novice-level, but his natural body awareness made their steps harmonize surprisingly well.
*
"Wow..."
"Incredible."
"Not a genius for nothing."
Admiration rippled around them. At the center of the ballroom, Leo and Elizabeth shone like a single masterpiece. Click. The photographer captured them dead center for posterity.
"...."
And Princess Mandelia. Her eyes were ice-cold. Deep within burned jealousy, bewilderment, and anxiety. All the gazes she craved were fixed on Elizabeth.
*
On the surface, it was a perfect dance. But...
Crack, crunch.
Her right ankle screamed. Every time weight shifted right, pain beyond human endurance surged up.
Just hold on a little longer... Don't mess up today, Elizabeth Valentine.
Her heart trembled with confession. Her body sweated cold from agony.
"Nervous? You're sweating buckets."
Leo teased with a grin as they danced. Elizabeth was drenched. Her milky skin glistened with sweat. Leo's hand on her waist grew slick. Her hair clung to her face and neck. Her lashes dampened.
"A little... it's a bit hot."
She forced a smile and stepped hard on her right foot. In that instant, Elizabeth sighed inwardly.
Ah, mistake.
Snap! A breaking sound echoed inside her—audible only to her. Swallowing cries and screams, Elizabeth pivoted on her left foot. She tried not to weight the right. But dance required balance between both. No matter how she adjusted, unavoidable pressure fell on the right. And each time, her body broke a little more.
Can't push further. The ankle will give out. Her instincts screamed it. Crunch... But she didn't stop. Past screams, sensation faded from her ankle, yet she danced on. The right ankle swelled grotesquely, beyond limits. Hidden under her dress, no one saw. Her face was astonishingly serene. Sweat poured, but poise and confidence filled her features—as if the entire stage were hers.
Drip, drip... Her sweat wet the marble floor. Her silk dress fluttered like a blooming flower. Her movements were still and delicate as a lake swan.
At last, the dance crested. The music swelled. The finale: spin the body, whirl the dress, balance on one foot. One foot, full weight.
Without hesitation, Elizabeth executed it. Her body traced an elegant swan-like arc. The dress hem bloomed in the air. All eyes were on her now.
And then. Crack— The moment no willpower could defy arrived. She couldn't hold anymore. Pain tore through her body's limits.
"Ah."
A short gasp escaped. Elizabeth collapsed. Leo lunged, but slick sweat made him slip. Thud. She lost balance and fell at the ballroom's center. Perfectly, the music ended. Profound silence fell. Music, breaths—all seemed to stop. Everyone stared at her.
"Ah..."
On the marble floor, she struggled to rise. But she couldn't. Her ankle was wrecked. No matter how she tried, it twisted at an unnatural angle, crumpling her body. Dazed, she pulled her dress hem to check. The monstrously swollen ankle stared back—baffling how she'd danced this far. Her fingers trembled. Breath wouldn't come. Heat trailed her cheek. Tears.
"Eli..."
Leo dropped to one knee and enveloped her.
"Why."
"......"
"Why now... why... hic."
Elizabeth's voice crumbled. She couldn't hold back. Three years of suppressed emotion, bottled pressure—it burst free. Leo's face, gazing at her, was pure worry. No pounding heart, no love-like thrill. Just what she'd dreaded most became real. She had to be perfect. Beautiful. Today, of all days... And it all shattered.
"Hic, waaah..."
She let go. The eighteen-year-old girl hidden under perfection's shell finally broke, sobbing. Tears flowed endlessly. Tears, snot, pride—all spilled. Leo held his daughter tight. In his arms, Elizabeth wept like a child for a long, long time, unable to speak.