A Moment Frozen in Time
I never could have imagined it. To think that simply moving my body would make me this tense.
It wasn't my first time dancing, nor was it my first time dancing with Sirien. I was the son of a noble family, after all. Even though it was a martial house, dancing was still considered a basic social grace. Whether I cared for it or not, I had always assumed I would have to show my face at a social gathering at least once.
Yet, my every nerve was on edge, plagued by the fear that I might misstep or make some clumsy blunder. At the very least, I didn't want to make a mistake right now. I couldn't bear to ruin this moment like that.
I tracked Sirien's every movement with my eyes. Her arms rose and fell like the beating of a bird's wings. Her steps were slow and easy to follow, deliberately paced for my benefit. I watched where her gaze drifted, and even the playful, impromptu flourishes she added to the dance.
With every sway of her body, the distance between us closed and widened in a rhythmic cycle. Our clasped hands remained firmly joined, showing no sign of letting go. I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of joy at this solid connection.
"For someone who claimed to be clumsy, you're doing wonderfully," Sirien teased. "You should have more confidence."
"I'm desperate here. I'm still terrified I'll make a mistake."
"So what if you do? I'll catch you."
"You say that, but it feels like you're actually hoping I'll mess up."
"Maybe just a little? It's cute, after all."
We spun together in a turn. Following the direction guided by her hand, I rotated and stepped closer, wrapping my arm around her waist. Her slender, petite waist felt as though it could fit entirely within a single hand. Her scent drifted up to my nose—a soft, gentle fragrance reminiscent of warm milk, mixed with a hint of sweet vanilla. As she turned her smiling eyes toward me, we changed directions.
Was it because we had been in sync for so long? Even without a word spoken between us, I instinctively knew what she wanted to do and how I should match her. My body moved before my mind could even process the thought. With her every movement, the hem of her dress fluttered like the wings of an angel.
"Ahaha! You almost stepped on my foot just now."
"Sorry. I was trying to be careful."
"It's fine, I dodged it."
The reason ballgowns had such voluminous skirts was to emphasize every single movement. Viewed from above, they bloomed like a single flower, and the way they fluttered along the lines of the dance was quite beautiful to behold. Yet, Sirien's movements stood out perfectly even without a puffed skirt or a lavish dress. She knew how to shine all on her own. Every finger extended into the air seemed to exude her charm. Her veil fluttered in a dreamlike sway. The elegant curves of her well-toned figure drew beautiful lines in the air. Behind her expression, which seemed to be the very embodiment of happiness, the rest of the world blurred into an abstract smear. In this space, there were only the two of us. Everything else dissolved into a wash of indistinguishable colors.
"Hold on tight. If I fall, I'll cry and blame you forever."
"That's a rather terrifying threat."
I supported her back as she arched gracefully. Sirien held onto my shoulders to steady herself, and between our joined arms, I saw her face—so familiar, yet somehow feeling strangely new. She was beautiful, just as she always was. Perhaps even more so than usual. My heart began to pound for no reason, its rapid beat echoing in my ears.
"See? I held on tight."
"Because I didn't want to get blamed."
"Silly. As if I could ever blame you."
This time, Sirien pulled me closer. The distance vanished. As our arms overlapped, barely a fist's width of space remained between our bodies. My breath and her soft exhalations mingled and tangled in the air. A sudden warmth seemed to surge between us. Perhaps joy truly was fleeting. I hadn't realized how much time had passed, but the music was already drawing to a close. Amidst the swelling crescendo, I lifted Sirien, spun her around once, and set her back down. Her ruby eyes widened in surprise before curving into beautiful crescents. With her radiant smile as the final note, the music ended.
The original novel, Saintess, a Reverse Harem is Impure!, was a generic reverse-harem romance fantasy. I couldn't quite recall the author's pen name, but they had certainly written a story that lived up to its title. A reverse harem of the most absurdly self-indulgent kind. In the original work of this world, the female protagonist was the Saintess of Light, Elis. The book was filled to the brim with scenes of her being showered with affection by various male leads. No detailed justification was ever needed for why she was so beloved; the author preferred to spend their time writing yet another display of affection from the male leads rather than building a coherent narrative.
Which meant this world was packed with all sorts of convenient settings and plot devices just to facilitate the female lead's romantic encounters. The painters who had drawn our portraits earlier today were one example, and the device currently being brought onto the stage was another.
Once the song ended, a flamboyantly dressed man stepped onto the stage. He was the host of the event. Captivating the crowd with his witty jokes, he smoothly guided the festival forward. He began with a brief introduction of the orchestra, and then got straight to the point, announcing that a special event had been prepared.
An event naturally required a prize, and the host seemed incredibly confident in the one they had prepared. What he brought out was something I recognized all too well.
A camera?
A box that perfectly resembled an early-model camera was carried onto the stage. It was mounted atop an elegantly decorated tripod. A few individuals who appeared to be mages inspected the device before giving a signal that it was fully operational.
The host scanned the crowd in front of the stage. For a brief moment, I felt as though his gaze lingered on us, but I dismissed it as a mere trick of my imagination. That device was originally supposed to appear when the female protagonist got involved with the wealthiest man in the Empire, the Golden Duke. Even in the novel's timeline, which was set several years in the future, it was described as an invention that had taken a very long time to develop. I never expected to see it here.
Its performance would probably be decent. Magic was incredibly versatile, after all. The real issue was that it was notoriously difficult to maintain and extremely expensive to run. It had the worst cost-efficiency imaginable, costing several gold coins just to take a single photograph. Considering that the machine couldn't even be maintained without a mage present, the Baron must have put an immense amount of effort—and money—into securing it.
The host began explaining the camera while waving a few pre-printed photographs in the air. I had no need to listen, but Sirien's eyes sparkled with intense curiosity.
"We will be giving this opportunity only to those who come up onto the stage!" the host announced. "Of course, we won't be taking photos for everyone. If you come up in pairs, we will give you a challenge. Only those who succeed will have their photo taken!"
It was only natural that Sirien immediately began tugging at my arm.
"Rajen, let's go! Please? Hurry! That is so cool!"
"Huh? Wait, hold on..."
"Let's go line up! I think the queue is over there."
Unable to withstand Sirien's eager pleading, I was dragged toward the stage. Since several people had rushed over the moment the host finished speaking, the line was already quite long. As we took our place at the back, I noticed something. Aside from us, everyone in this line was a lovey-dovey couple. Some were even openly displaying their affection, kissing right there in the queue.
Honestly, it was to be expected. Most people who wanted to preserve such a special memory were bound to be lovers. Since people had gathered from all over the baronetcy and even neighboring territories, their numbers were substantial. Sirien seemed to have picked up on the romantic atmosphere around us, as she grew unusually quiet. She looked a bit embarrassed, but when I took her hand, her expression softened slightly. Then, she suddenly whispered in a small voice.
"Rajen."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for always going along with me like this. From when we were kids until now, always."
"Hey, don't say embarrassing things like that."
The host had promised a total of five photographs. Sirien and I were somewhere in the middle of the line, and those ahead of us were already attempting the challenges dictated by the host. The variety of tasks went beyond diverse—they seemed entirely subject to the host's whims. None of them were easy, either. Some required close cooperation between the partners, while others demanded one person perform what was practically an acrobatic feat. Even the ones that sounded simple on paper had a low success rate, suggesting the host was deliberately choosing tasks he knew would be difficult to pull off.
Still, with so many participants, the remaining slots quickly dwindled. Sirien grew anxious, but fortunately, our luck held out. By the time we stepped onto the stage, there was exactly one photograph left. The host's face lit up the moment he saw Sirien. She was a Saintess of breathtaking beauty, after all. Sirien had always been striking enough to draw everyone's gaze, and I could feel the eyes of the entire crowd below focusing on us.
"And now we have a beautiful young lady on stage!" the host boomed. "How long have you two been dating?"
"D-Dating?! We're... not quite there yet."
"Ah, I see! Loud and clear!"
Her use of the words "not quite there yet" lingered in my mind. The host hadn't missed it either. A mischievous grin spread across his face. For some reason, his expression reminded me so much of Baron Isquente that a shiver ran down my spine.
"Since we need to wrap things up soon, let's make this one easy. How about a kiss? If you two kiss right here, we'll take your picture!"
My mind ground to a complete halt.