Chapter 79
Chapter 79
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 79
Chapter Title: Waltz with the Princess
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Under the gorgeous chandelier.
A waltz melody bloomed in the vast ballroom.
As the Princess stepped out to dance, everyone parted slightly to make way.
I stood face-to-face with Camillia amid that burdensome gaze.
"Are you familiar with dancing, Your Highness?"
"What can't I do? Dancing is one of the basic accomplishments."
In the lively music, the Princess clasped her hands behind her back.
Her blue eyes flicked toward the other young ladies dancing.
As if hastily studying their movements.
"That's a relief. Then, may I take the lead?"
"A man handing the lead to a woman?"
"Isn't it always the better dancer who leads?"
"......"
She was the type who commanded everything decisively and straightforwardly.
Yet here in the ballroom, her eyes held a hint of tension.
Of course, she kept a straight face to hide it.
But she couldn't fool me, with decades as Imperial Prime Minister under my belt.
So this was my way of accommodating her wishes.
"So... this piece is called Lydia Waltz, in the Samad Empire style—known for its brisk rhythm."
Camillia rested her hand on her chin like she was devising a battle plan.
Everyone else was enjoying themselves, but she looked as serious as if facing an imminent fight.
"We need to focus on quick steps and precise rhythm..."
"Your Highness? Half the song has already passed."
The Princess's sharp eyes widened like a leopard's as she snapped out of her thoughts.
"...Has that much time gone by already?"
"Yes, everyone else is at the finale except us."
The ladies' dresses fluttered beautifully like flowers.
The men stood firm like stems holding them steady.
"Ahem, let's start by extending both hands."
The Princess cleared her throat and hurriedly assumed position.
As I responded, she began moving her feet one step at a time, slowly.
'She's clearly trained—textbook steps.'
But...
What was with these stiff, statue-like movements?
"One step at a time, crisply. Since it's Samad-style waltz, keep it light..."
Usually, the man stands firm while the woman uses it to show off graceful moves.
But the Princess was the opposite.
The music was waltz, but her dancing was as rigid and choppy as a military march.
"Uh... Your Highness?"
I asked cautiously, but she seemed not to hear.
She stared only at my toes, fixated on her steps.
'Classic rote-learning pitfall. Her instructor must've drilled focusing on the feet.'
Textbook theory, zero experience.
Camillia apparently had never danced with a man before.
'This is tricky...'
The stiffer she forced her body, the more she wobbled.
Even with her exceptional athleticism, her steps started tangling.
Plus, she was wearing heels, unlike usual.
"Eut...!"
Finally, attempting a forceful turn, her heel snapped.
Her radiant golden hair swirled beautifully.
Just before her first dance became a horrific memory in front of everyone.
I smoothly wrapped my arms around her.
"Are you all right?"
Camillia's black dress pulled taut, accentuating her figure even more.
The curve of her firm abs contrasting her ample bosom.
"Be careful. You nearly ruined your debut."
My palm touched her soft, smooth back.
The dress's design left it fully exposed, letting me feel her noble skin directly.
"What a passionate finish."
"As expected of Her Highness. Even the ending is extraordinary."
The surrounding nobles mistook the near-fall for an acrobatic finale.
Applause of admiration poured in instead of ridicule.
"......"
But the Princess's face showed no joy.
Her usually sharp blue eyes were clouded with swirling emotions.
Her first time being touched by a man on her bare skin.
The shame of showing an clumsy side to someone she saw as cute and younger.
Her face flushed from the dizzying situation.
"...Was it that obvious?"
"Obvious what?"
"That I've never danced before."
"Yes. For a moment, it felt less like waltz and more like a duel."
Her nose reddened at my brutally honest answer.
Her pride wounded, she fiddled with her dress strap.
"Your Highness, forgive me, but may I say something?"
"No, you may not."
Despite her refusal, I added politely—for the next song's sake.
"That piece's tempo was too fast; it couldn't keep up with your elegant style."
"Are you mocking me now?"
She narrowed her eyes.
I responded with a gentle smile.
"No, just my analysis. You probably learned traditional waltzes as a child, so this one felt off."
As I advised sincerely, she softened her expression.
She elegantly brushed back her slightly tousled bangs and listened.
"So don't cling to old moves—try moving instinctively."
"Instinctively?"
This time, I offered my hand to her.
"Yes, let me show you."
The moment I grasped her silk-gloved hand.
The brisk Samad waltz ended, giving way to grand music.
A majestic melody befitting a knight guarding the Princess.
"Entrust your body to me."
I stepped in time with the heavy cello melody.
As I led, she naturally followed.
"Good. Now, try a turn."
I slowly raised our joined hands.
Camillia spun as taught in her girlhood.
"Well done. Beautiful, like striking down with a spear."
"......"
She was the elder, yet felt praised like a child.
Camillia bit her red lip in frustration.
Still, she meekly followed my gentle lead.
When clashing swords, maybe not—but holding hands...
She was far more supple and adept than a leopard.
"Now, I'll embrace you."
After her turn, she swung back into my arms.
Her skinship with men had only been crushing foes in spars.
But now her cheek pressed against my broad chest—her sharp eyes widened round.
It was a dance, but being hugged tight by the opposite sex.
"You're smaller than I thought. Fits perfectly."
Now, the man was looking down at her cutely.
"What..."
Camillia tried reclaiming her princessly pride.
But facing him with the grand chandelier at his back.
He didn't seem like some immature young noble at all.
His weary eyes didn't match the palace glamour.
The green gaze within felt more mature than hers.
"Shall you move on your own now?"
She realized I was advising in earnest.
"The tempo's perfect now."
"......"
To her annoyance, her movements truly improved.
She hadn't noticed at first, but her gestures grew feminine.
'She loves learning, and her aptitude is insane.'
Now she improvised, blending in old moves without prompting.
Her cold, martial stiffness vanished completely.
Her eyes brightened like a girl's thrilled by new knowledge.
'She can make that face too.'
"Why's your lip curling up?"
"Just amazed at your learning speed, Your Highness."
"Of course. One who leads the Empire must master anything swiftly."
Her breathing a bit quickened, she answered confidently.
When I raised my hand, she spun on her own and nestled back.
Pushed away, she arched her back, flaunting the sensual lines inherited from her forebears.
As the song reached its climax.
The music cut off, and everyone struck their prepared finale poses.
'Oh, I forgot to teach the ending pose.'
Even I, uninterested in high society, knew the finale was the flower of the dance.
No matter how great the dance, an awkward end left it wanting.
Everyone watched curiously how the Princess would conclude.
And then.
"......!!"
I realized my worry was needless.
As the music neared its end, she hooked her thick thigh over my leg.
Dizzingly provocative, like revenge for seeing her as a girl.
In response, I slightly bent my knee.
She wrapped both thighs around me and hung lightly.
Embracing my back for the finish, she looked up with a bewitching gaze.
"......"
Everyone stared blankly at the provocative pose.
Then, someone praised the beautiful move.
―――!! ―――!!
The other guests joined in cheers.
"Splendid, Your Highness. A perfect debutante."
"Again... treating me like a child..."
Her thigh around my leg squeezed hard.
Soft and firm, it wasn't unpleasant at all.
If I were an ordinary man, it'd be an incredible reward.
Such an ecstatic woman clinging to you—one of life's greatest feats.
But with the empire's doom to avert, I had no leisure to indulge.
"Not a child. Just awed by your overwhelming aptitude."
"Enough. Who do you take me for, some clueless miss?"
The Princess slowly dismounted.
Arms crossed alone, she indifferently peeled hair from her cheek.
"I need some air."
"Of course. I'll grab some water too."
Camillia left the ballroom with a nonchalant expression.
Toward the terrace under the brilliant full moon.
"Hoo..."
Alone, she fanned herself unconsciously.
Her dress clung tighter, soaked with excited heat and sweat.
"To show such an unseemly sight."
How closely had she pressed against the warden? Her navel curve was even visible.
She inwardly blamed herself for not rejecting the maids' pushy dress recommendation.
Her usual white uniform suited her far better.
"And Derek Minster... daring to lie to me?"
He'd claimed ignorance and asked to lead.
Yet he guided her so proficiently and leisurely.
"As expected of the Minster house. A danger to women."
She thought if she weren't so level-headed, she'd have lost composure.
"So he needs thorough isolation and strict management."
She forced a cold expression.
But soon blanked again.
"Can't let that cute face at the end show to others."
After the dance, hugging her and gazing kindly down.
Such genuine well-wishing expression.
She'd never allow him showing that to others.
The Empire's Princess wouldn't permit it.
While Camillia was away.
I left the ballroom too, arriving at the palace corridor.
'Pants are sticking.'
I pinched and peeled the sweat-dampened spots.
Then, mid-sip of champagne.
I sensed someone approaching.
"You're Warden Derek Minster, right?"
Turning to the voice, a curly-haired young noble stood there.
Not in my memory, so probably insignificant.
"Yes, that's me. What is it?"
"Care for a private word?"
The corridor was already deserted, yet he wanted seclusion.
Suspicious, but I agreed for now.
Those blue texts from dancing with the Princess nagged at me.
"Mad Moon Ball."
"Puppet Ball."
"Sure. Where to?"
"The rear garden."
He said nothing as we exited with this peer.
Only when all presences vanished.
"Satisfying, was it?"
Then the young noble revealed his true colors.
"What?"
"Your dance with Her Highness. Lewdly ogling her jade form with those gloomy eyes."
His words had thorns.
Seems jealousy was why he dragged me out.
"I didn't. Just matched steps as partners."
"Lowborn houses like yours lack the qualification. Toying with misses by the cartload, now Her Highness too."
The curly-haired man glared in disgust.
"Never lusted. You pulled me out over mere suspicion?"
"Suspicion? Many young lords share our displeasure."
"Many?"
"Yes, so no fleeing. The garden's full of knights here to teach you a lesson."
Minster infamy plus outrage over the Princess.
The curly-haired man led around the corner to his allies' spot.
But.
"...Wait, why's it so rowdy?"
His introduction froze in shock at the scene.
"Ugh..."
"S-someone call a doctor...!!"
The target was to be the arrogant Minster warden.
Yet grotesquely, his own side was savagely fighting each other.
As if brainwashed.
"What happened? Why fight among yourselves?!"
"D-don't know. Some suddenly swung fists... cough!!"
"Where's the rest?"
"Fled beyond there."
The curly-haired man hurriedly checked past the garden bushes.
But there...
Young nobles lay collapsed, struck down.
Scabbard marks on their napes.
'What the hell. What happened?'
"You demon! Predicted us and cast black magic?!"
The curly-haired man whirled on me in terror.
Under the mad full moon, eerie shadows cloaked my face.
'What the fuck is this guy on about.'