Chapter 25

Tessarion clenched his fists, burning with energy. Heliote smirked arrogantly.

“Life’s too short to just fight all the time, right?”

Heliote looked down at me, as if expecting me to agree. Normally I would’ve ignored him, but after dying nine times, it hit different.

“Yes…”
I answered quietly and looked away.

The drums boomed, fast and loud, as dancers swirled and laughed, jewelry clinking in rhythm.

Life is short.

And the distance between Berieta and Tessarion right now? About 50 billion light-years.

I pushed Heliote away and approached Tessarion. He sat there grumpily, drinking, so I took his empty glass and held his hand to stand him up.

“Dance with me, Duke.”

Tessarion growled, not moving.

“Are you asking me to become the imperial court jester?”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“Then what do you mean?”

I glanced at Berieta. I’d never seen her dance, especially since she walked with a cane. But ruining this carefully planned event hosted by Shinnevan’s famously stingy mayor? That’d be worse.

“Will you not ask the princess to dance?”

Tessarion glared at me like I’d lost my mind.

“Then… may I ask her to dance instead?”

Might as well provoke him while I’m at it.

“Do you even know how to dance?”

“Nope.”

“Huh?”

“You haven’t taught me yet.”

He laughed, despite himself. His tense face softened.

“You should just ask me to teach you, Roy. Don’t pretend to know what you’re doing—especially with Berieta. You’ll just embarrass yourself.”

“Please teach me.”

Fast responses are best when you’re embarrassed. He sighed deeply.

“What am I even doing right now…”

He stood, brushing his hair back.

“In the South, people dance closely, regardless of class. But in the North, we value grace and elegance. I’ll teach you the solo steps first—group dances can come later.”

He grabbed my wrist and guided my hand to his back. I stood up straight, trying to copy the posture.

“Eyes to the side of your partner’s face.”

I glanced at him and tiptoed slightly. He chuckled.

“Don’t laugh. I’m serious.”

“Ah, really?”

He was already grinning. I bit my lip and cleared my throat.

The music picked up in a triple beat—it was a waltz.

Heliote, dancing nearby, leaned on Tessarion’s back and sneered.

“Dancing with your servant? That’s new. Shouldn’t your positions be switched? You’re supposed to lift the mood, not be a joke.”

Tessarion ignored him and gracefully turned me.

I held both of his hands—his palms were like big bear paws—and clenched my teeth without meaning to.

“Now left. Match the rhythm. Bounce on the third step, then turn.”

He was just leading me with perfect form, but why were my arms shaking? I tried hard to focus on the steps. After one full turn, I finally started getting the hang of it—until someone pulled me away.

“Princess?”

Berieta smiled like sunshine. She bowed slightly despite her bad knee—it looked as graceful as a swan’s wing.

“Are you feeling a bit better now, my savior?”

“Ah… y-yes…”

I turned to look at Tessarion. If I stepped back and let them dance, it would’ve made a beautiful scene.

But Tessarion just glared coldly at her, and Berieta only looked at me.

“Then, may I ask you for a dance?”

Huh? With me?

Before I could respond, Berieta stepped closer. She slid the cane-hand under my arm to support herself and gently took my hand with the other.

A perfectly light hold, like a feather.
I looked at her with wide eyes.

She moved before I could even say anything. With her cane supporting her, we ended up dancing close together, leaving no space between us.

“I-is it okay for you to dance?”

“Of course. I actually prefer dancing to walking. Social dance was part of my physical therapy. I can’t dance for long, but I can handle one waltz.”

She winked playfully.

“I see…”

She smelled really nice. My heart pounded like crazy and I swallowed nervously.

More than anything, I was stunned—not that she could dance—but that she was leading me like the male partner.

And maybe because she spent so much time in a wheelchair, or maybe I remembered wrong… but she seemed half a head taller than I recalled. Even without heels, she was nearly my height.

“My savior.”

“Y-yes?”

“Can I call you Roy? Or should I say Sir Dover?”

“…I haven’t been officially knighted yet, so please call me whatever is easiest for you.”

I couldn’t meet her eyes. Her big lashes fluttered as her gaze warmed, and she tilted her head.

“Then I’ll call you Roy.”

“…!”
Oh no. My heart. My ears were tingling, and my face felt like it might explode.

I cleared my throat to calm down, but my elbow accidentally bumped into her.

“Sorry!”

I tried to fix my posture and steps. She giggled, raised my arm, and twirled away lightly.

“No, it’s me who should apologize. You’re adjusting for me.”

“Huh?”

“Well, it’s a secret, but… I’m actually bad at the girl’s part of the dance.”

She smiled sweetly.