The Moonlit Dance
Before she asked Blow to dance, Rosalyn made the rounds of the other tables first, murmuring so softly it was hard to tell whether she meant to be heard.
"The reaction's better than I thought."
"It is."
"If you hadn't come back in, it would've been a disaster."
A thin smile traced Bering's lips as she answered.
Every time Rosalyn moved from table to table, praise for Ropert Rose had come in thick and fast. It wasn't quite on the level of Blow's Straight, of course—hotel staff were posted at every table taking orders for that—but several young ladies had still placed bulk orders, saying they meant to stock it at their estates, and Elton was among them, diligently writing every one down.
Now and then someone offered a pointed little jab about why she had gone outside, but that was nothing beside the flood of praise the rose had drawn. Her rather lame excuse—that she hadn't liked her dress and had gone to change—had landed better than she'd expected, too.
After they had circled a few tables, Bering glanced at her and offered a smile that almost, but not quite, showed itself.
"Rosalyn. Now."
"I know."
When Rosalyn had come back out in the new dress, Bering had told her to go thank Blow herself. At the time, of course, Rosalyn had kept her mouth firmly shut.
"Rosalyn."
"I know. I'll go, all right?"
Elton, standing beside her once the orders were taken, leaned in and whispered in a gentle tone.
"My lady, you ought to ask him to dance. When the two of you are standing in the center of the hall—that would be the moment to say it."
"What if I just go tell him later, on my own?"
"You left while Young Master Blow was speaking from the dais. If you dance with him, a great many problems will resolve themselves."
"......"
"It might even draw more attention your way."
When Elton pressed her that far, Rosalyn—who would rather have died—started toward Blow's table all the same.
Rebecca, Yulia, Herbena, Jane, Skadi, and Rachel besides. A table packed with people she couldn't stand, every last one of them except Skadi. Eyes rose and fell as she passed, and at last she arrived. The moment she did, everyone at the table, and everyone beyond it, turned to look at her.
And yet, once she was actually there, the words came more easily than she had expected.
A brief exchange of greetings passed. Rosalyn looked at Blow and finally said what she had come to say.
"Young Master Blow."
"Yes, Lady Rosalyn. You stepped out earlier—went to change your dress, I see? This one suits you much better."
Blow Deblique said it with a playful smile. She truly hated the sight of him. Even so, there was nothing for it.
Honestly, I am grateful.
Rosalyn squeezed her eyes shut, opened them, and barely managed to speak.
"Dance... one dance with me."
She stumbled over the words, and at once the hall began to murmur.
"Did Rosalyn Ropert just ask him to dance?"
"Then... really, three of the Four Great Houses..."
"Shh."
Rachel, hearing it, looked at Blow as if she might die laughing. Yulia and Herbena stared at the pair of them with their mouths hanging open. Blow himself only narrowed his eyes and regarded her for a moment.
"You mean me, my lady?"
"Who else at this table is Young Master Blow?"
At her blunt tone he let out a short laugh.
"I've had quite a lot to drink."
Rosalyn clamped her mouth shut and glared at him. She had come here having set even her pride aside. Whether he knew that or not, Blow was only blinking at her.
Irritation rising, she lowered her eyes and murmured, barely audible.
"I have something to say."
"That edge—now that's Lady Rosalyn."
Unlike her, he kept teasing, and the patience she had been clinging to finally snapped.
"I'm just saying thank you..."
"What was that?"
"Thank you! Young Master Blow Deblique!"
Thank you? Every eye at the table went round. Rosalyn's face flushed so red it looked ready to burst, and she shot to her feet.
Infuriating. I'm never getting tangled up with him again.
She bit her lip and was about to storm off when Blow gently caught her arm.
"W-what?"
"Didn't you say we'd dance one?"
"......"
"Just the one. I'm a little tipsy right now."
When Blow and Rosalyn—a pairing no one could easily have imagined—stepped onto the ballroom floor, every eye turned to them. Still feeling wronged, Rosalyn whispered so only he could hear.
"If you were going to do this anyway, you could've just accepted from the start..."
"Why? Hearing you say thank you might have moved my heart."
"Really?"
"Obviously a lie."
"You are so annoying."
"Smile. A business smile. Everyone's watching."
Blow Deblique, slipping back into casual speech as if it were nothing. He had needled her to his heart's content, and now he was playing the businessman again. Even so, Rosalyn had no choice but to do as he said. Her eyes were stiff, her smile forced—a slightly ridiculous expression. And yet the people watching them were saying favorable things.
"They didn't seem to get along..."
"Looks like they've made up."
"Even Lady Rosalyn went so far as to say thank you. Young Master Blow certainly has a way about him..."
"Young Master Blow's sparkling water was good, and Lady Rosalyn's liquor wasn't bad either, was it?"
"It didn't clash with the food. A bit light for my taste, of course."
"One way or another, Young Master Blow is the star of this gathering."
Those words drifted through the hall. Soft light washed over the center of the floor as the two of them stood facing each other, and the orchestra—as if it had been waiting only for them to take their places—began to play. A gentle melody, the kind that put a listener at ease, softened every face in the room.
After a brief silence, Blow lightly took Rosalyn by the waist, looked down at her, and spoke.
"Shall we talk about the contract, Lady Rosalyn?"
"You said you wouldn't."
"I've changed my mind."
"How do you change it so easily, just like that?"
"You went so far as to thank me. What does a little thing like my opinion matter?"
A faint scent of liquor drifted from him. Unmistakably Ropert Rose. Rosalyn stared at him a moment, then pouted and turned her head.
"I'm going to charge you dearly."
"That would be a problem."
At that idle remark, she couldn't help a small laugh.
"What? You said that after you stepped outside earlier?"
The moment he returned to the table alone, fresh from dancing with Rosalyn, a hearing convened on the spot. The one questioning him most eagerly was, of course, Yulia Edfolk. They had heard what Blow had said in the garden, and each of them was reacting in her own way.
"The liquor was quite good, and I was about to bring up the contract when it just... slipped out."
"You're the only one who could get away with that to Rosalyn. Blow Deblique."
"She understands what she needs to understand, though."
"Even so—you're genuinely insane."
Rachel Campbell shook her head. Blow shrugged.
"Well, Lady Yulia was right behind me, so."
"Young Master..."
It was a pleasant thing to hear, and yet for some reason the back of Yulia's head throbbed.
Was this how Jane felt every single time?
Herbena, who had been sitting quietly all the while, spoke first.
"Still, it's unexpected, Young Master."
"What is?"
"I thought you wouldn't feel kindly toward Rosalyn."
"Why? Is there a reason I shouldn't?"
"Well, no. It's just..."
Herbena trailed off, glancing at Jane. Blow leaned back against the sofa and answered.
"For one thing... Jane probably doesn't think much of it."
"No, I don't, particularly. Compared to how you used to be, Young Master, Rosalyn is..."
"That's far enough."
Jane closed her mouth at his words, and Blow went on.
"Other people can do as they like, but I don't think I should."
"What do you mean?"
"If anyone ought to look at others with a generous heart, shouldn't it be me—the one they called the Scoundrel of Blanya?"
"......"
"Haha. So you've repented, and now you'll make others repent too? Is that it?"
When Rachel asked with a laugh, Blow shrugged.
"No. I'm just telling you how I intend to carry myself from now on."
"Trying to become a good man, are you?"
"I probably can't. But I'm going to try."
At that, the others fell briefly into thought, and Blow turned his gaze to Jane. She was smiling more contentedly than usual, and she gave him a small nod. He answered with a quiet look of his own.
A moment later, it was Rachel Campbell who broke the silence.
"Whatever it is, it's not bad. Have a drink, partner."
"My lady? May I have one as well?"
"Me too!"
Glasses gathered, then came down again. Far off, Rosalyn watched them with something like envy, and behind her the music in the hall was fading out.