The Count's Secret Maid - Chapter 43

Translation: godsn

As I stood hesitantly in the center of the hall, my body stiffened with tension. Lucas wrapped his arm ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠around my waist and pulled me toward him. When the distance between us closed, he smiled at my startled expression and lifted my right hand with his other hand. My flustered head shook from side to side.

"Lift your head."

"Huh? Oh, yes."

When I nodded, Lucas laughed again.

"Relax your body and follow my lead."

"Yes."

Soon, a new classical piece began to play.

My body grew even more rigid. Whispering for me to loosen up, he slowly stepped forward. Following his guidance, I hesitantly moved my feet as well. Little by little, I began to follow him.

He adjusted his pace to match mine, stepping slowly, and though I was a beat behind, I did my best to keep up. After moving with him a few times, I realized dancing wasn't as difficult as I'd thought.

The hem of my dress flared and gathered in time with my movements. We went right, then left, then spun in a full circle. When I managed to follow along well, Lucas winked at me in approval. I tugged the corners of my lips into a smile and stepped in sync with his motions.

But then, suddenly, the floor felt uneven.

"Oof."

"Ah!"

I'd stepped right on the top of his foot.

"I—I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

I immediately lifted my shoe. Lucas winced but forced a smile and readjusted his stance. After a brief wobble, his movements steadied, and we began gliding smoothly again.

But this time, my foot tangled with his, and I kicked his shin.

"Oof!"

Lucas couldn't hide his pain and let out a groan.

"......"

I squeezed my eyes shut. I might not know much, but I could tell that had been a solid kick. The sensation of my foot sinking into his flesh felt alarmingly deep.

Lucas staggered for a moment before quickly regaining his posture.

"I'm sorry. I'm not used to this......"

"I—It's okay."

But his face suggested otherwise. Seeing him subtly rub his kicked shin against his other leg, it was clear he was in real pain. Burning ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with shame, I ducked my head low. The aftermath made my steps even more cautious.

After that, I stepped on his feet a few more times. With each misstep, my head drooped lower. As if adding insult to injury, the music seemed to drag on endlessly. At this moment, I resented that languid classical piece more than anything.

"Paula. You're doing really well."

"...... I just want it to be over."

Then, his whisper brushed against my ear: "Shall we end it, then?" I nodded quickly, and his laughter reached me.

At that moment.

"Eek!"

He abruptly arched my back backward. At the same time, one of my legs was lifted into the air. Afraid of falling, I gripped his shoulders, but my vision tilted even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠further. Thankfully, I didn't topple over. Lucas supported my body with one arm while his other hand clutched my suspended leg.

What in the world is this position? My body was nearly horizontal, bent backward, with my right leg hoisted up. For a moment, I couldn't comprehend what posture I was in. Blinking in a daze, I stared at the beautiful chandelier on the ceiling—until Lucas suddenly popped into view between my legs. Unlike my panicked expression, his face was as calm as ever, smiling as usual.

"Now that's a proper finish, don't you think?"

"......"

I don't know about that, but I thought my heart was going to drop out of my chest.

I barely managed to calm my pounding heart. My disheveled hair must have revealed my scowl—Couldn't you have warned me first?—because Lucas grinned mischievously. He'd done this on purpose. It was clearly revenge for stepping on his foot and kicking his shin.

Just then, the music came to an end. Applause echoed through the now silent hall. When I turned my head toward the sound, I saw Ethan springing to his feet, clapping enthusiastically. It would've been better if he didn't still have a piece of meat dangling from his mouth.

As I wriggled to free myself, Lucas released me. Once both feet were safely planted on the floor, Violet joined in the applause.

"That was so beautiful, Paula."

"Thank you."

I gave an awkward smile and glanced at Vincent. He was looking elsewhere.

Suddenly, a palm abruptly appeared in my line of sight. Following the up-and-down waving motion, I turned my head to see Lucas with an oddly stiff expression. When our eyes met, his face instantly melted into its usual affectionate smile, as if nothing had happened. Then he extended his hand again.

"Shall we go again?"

"I must decline."

This time, I shook my head firmly in refusal. Did he want my feet to swell up like balloons? I could humor him with another dance if he insisted, but keeping my feet from being stepped on required such intense concentration that I was already exhausted.

My gaze drifted forward again. Vincent was exchanging words with Violet. They looked like lovers whispering sweet nothings.

Just as I found myself captivated by the lovely sight, Lucas spoke in a voice so quiet only I could hear:

"Paula."

"Yes?"

"This time, Paula should dance with whomever she wants to dance with."

Caught off guard by his words, I looked at Lucas questioningly, and he gestured forward with his hand. I turned my head to observe the affectionate pair again, then looked back at Lucas. He was still smiling, but there was an inexplicable bitterness to it now. Could refusing another dance really hurt him that much?

"Is that really alright?"

"Of course. It's just us here anyway. We're the only partners available. No one would think it strange no matter who you dance with."

Well, in that case. I nodded and stepped forward. The rustling hem of my dress brushed against itself, and my shoes tapped rhythmically against the floor, creating soft noises. The two turned their attention toward me at the sound. Scanning both faces before me one by one, I took my place beside the person I was most grateful to.

My chosen partner's eyes widened into perfect circles. I placed one hand behind my back, extended the other forward, and gave a slight bow—mimicking the gesture Lucas had used when asking me to dance. Though it was my first attempt, this felt far more comfortable than lifting my skirt hem in a curtsy.

"Lady Violet."

"Yes?"

"Would you honor me with this dance?"

She blinked rapidly. I wiggled my outstretched fingers as I waited for her response. After a brief silence, a loud burst of laughter erupted from behind me. Even Vincent, who'd been listening to our exchange nearby, covered his mouth and turned his head slightly—though he couldn't completely suppress the laughter escaping through his teeth.

Was there some law stating dances must be between men and women? Perhaps there was, but having already made my offer, I decided to brazen it out. As Lucas said, it was just us here. There was no need to stand on ceremony or follow strict protocols.

Moments later, amidst uproarious laughter, Violet beamed brightly and took my hand. And so we stood facing each other at the center of the hall. A slightly faster melody soon filled the room.

"Hehe, so as I was saying—"

"Yes?"

Her lively voice, which had been whispering all night without showing any signs of fatigue, continued. The lamplight—the sole illumination in the darkness—cast its glow upon Violet. We talked endlessly as she laughed joyfully, sometimes sharing trivial daily happenings, other times reminiscing about past memories.

Eventually, Violet began rubbing her eyes during our conversation. Suggesting she should get some sleep, I pulled the sheets up higher to cover her better. Though she whined in protest, the overwhelming drowsiness proved impossible to resist.

In the hushed silence, only the moon revealed its presence. I turned off the lamp and lay down on the bed. After watching Violet sleep for a while, I closed my eyes.

A streak of light stretched through the darkness. The glow gradually expanded, unfolding into a magnificent hall with a glittering chandelier suspended from above. The hall resonated with the lively tempo of classical music and the rhythmic clapping of hands, lifting the atmosphere. Our joyful laughter, beaming faces, dancing without a care for fluttering skirts or crumpled tailcoats. Even Isabella, who was always so rigid, laughing along with us in that moment.

We cast aside all formalities, conventions, manners, and class distinctions, pursuing nothing but pure joy as we laughed together like that.

When I opened my eyes, darkness rushed in. The boisterous laughter and music had all vanished, replaced by silence. The events of the afternoon felt distant, like a dream. My chest felt heavy, yet a giddy emotion still bubbled inside me.

In the end, I couldn't sleep.

I just wanted to hold onto this feeling a little longer.

I sat up, moving carefully so as not to wake Violet. Stepping down from the bed, I walked as quietly as possible, muffling my footsteps. Groping through the darkness, I found a shawl and draped it over my shoulders. I thought I'd take a short walk to savor this lingering emotion.

Lamp in hand, I stepped out of the room. Even closing the door felt like something I had to do with caution. As I gazed at the bright moon outside the corridor window, I set the lamp on the sill. Just as I was lighting it, the sudden sound of a door swinging open startled me. I turned around to see Vincent standing there.

"Master?"

His pale face was the first thing I noticed. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead. He didn't look well, and as I drew closer, his hollow eyes fixed on me.

"...... Is that you?"

He sometimes asked me like that. And I knew exactly what kind of moments made him speak that way.

"Yes. It's me."

"You're really you?"

"Yes. It's really me."

His hand reached out and seized mine. His fingertips trembled as they traced my wrist. Then he pulled me in, burying his face against my shoulder. I could hear his ragged breathing.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

He nodded. His golden hair brushed against my cheek, tickling me.

"But why did you come out?"

"I heard a sound."

"What would you have done if it wasn't me?"

"I thought it would be you."

Because I thought it would be you, I came out.

I didn't ask anything further and closed my mouth. His rough breathing gradually steadied. The hand that had been gripping my wrist slid down, interlacing his fingers with mine. The trembling in our clasped hands slowly subsided.

I flexed and unflexed my fingers entwined with his.

"Would you like to walk a little?"

He nodded again.

Holding his hand in one hand and the lit lamp in the other, we walked down the corridor. Two sets of footsteps echoed through the quiet hallway.

"I want some air."

"Shall we go ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠outside then?"

I led him outside the mansion with another nod. The night air was quite chilly. Outside, of course, was silent, with no signs of life. It was too late to go far, so we walked toward the garden. Everyone would be asleep, so there was no worry of running into anyone.

The dark sky was studded with stars. Tonight, the sky was clear, making them even more visible. Beautiful. I filled my eyes with their shimmering light. A star streaked across the sky, drawing a line as it fell. As we walked, admiring the sight, a fountain came into view. Despite the late hour, water still gushed from it.