Hailey, who had clenched her fists tightly, suddenly began striding forward. Her unexpected actions caused the whispers to halt, as curious eyes turned to her.

Without hesitation, she walked past Albert and directly toward the duke. Stopping two paces from him, she stared firmly at his back.

A faint movement.

Sensing her presence, Tayton slowly turned around. His silver eyes widened slightly as he recognized her. Her unexpected appearance seemed to surprise him.

The curious gazes of the onlookers were now entirely focused on the two of them. Even those dancing began to falter and eventually stop.

Hailey, aware of the attention, straightened her posture even more. She wore a gentle smile, her expression kind as she looked up at the duke. Her demeanor was elegant and radiant.

Tayton’s brow furrowed slightly. Just as he was about to ask what was going on, Hailey suddenly extended a hand toward him.

The duke’s gaze fell downward. His silver eyes lingered on her pale, outstretched hand before rising to meet hers again. His expression carried faint suspicion and guardedness.

Hailey’s smile deepened.

“May I have this dance, Your Grace?”

“!”

The entire hall seemed to gasp collectively.

It wasn’t just the fact that she had extended her hand to the “cursed duke”—that alone would have been enough to cause a stir.

It was that a woman had initiated the request for a dance.

Traditionally, a proper lady was expected to stand gracefully like a flower, enhancing the atmosphere of the ball while waiting for a gentleman to choose her. That was the role of a lady.

But the words that should have come from a gentleman had instead come from Hailey.

“……”

The hall fell into stunned silence. The elegant melody of the violins faltered for a moment, and the musicians ceased playing. Even Princess Irene stopped mid-step, casting a startled look toward Hailey.

Albert, who hadn’t yet retracted his half-extended hand, also turned to her in surprise.

The ballroom, now devoid of music, was utterly still. In this frozen moment, it felt as though only Hailey and Tayton existed.

Hailey met his silver gaze with a radiant smile, while Tayton, his expression hidden behind his mask, looked down at her.

His silver eyes narrowed slightly. Her dazzling smile met his gaze directly, unwavering.

And in that moment, Tayton realized his hunch was correct.

She wasn’t smiling.

She was angry.

Angry?

At whom?

The answer remained elusive.

Tayton’s brow creased slightly as he replayed the events that had just unfolded. What had happened to make her so angry?

The only plausible answer was Irene’s rejection of his dance invitation. Because of that, he had become the subject of ridicule.

But why would she be angry about that?

The answer was still unclear. Or perhaps something had happened with Albert. Tayton, feeling the curious gazes directed at him, couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“?”

Suddenly, his eyes glinted with realization. Perhaps he had only just grasped the situation, for he noticed Hailey’s neck flushing faintly. Then her earlobes, then her cheeks, and finally beneath her eyes.

So it wasn’t something she did intentionally.

Watching her, a faint smile tugged at Tayton’s lips. He found her uncharacteristic embarrassment surprisingly amusing.

At the very least, it was better than that mask-like face of hers, always smiling serenely at unpleasant remarks. Hailey’s light green eyes briefly flickered with puzzlement.

“There’s no reason not to, Miss Hailey Salmon.”

Tayton took her hand. With his other hand, he gently extended his arm and wrapped it around her waist. Pulling her close with a firm motion, their bodies pressed tightly together.

“Ah, um…”

Flustered by the closeness and the firm feel of his muscles, Hailey let out a soft, stifled sound, unsure where to look. Her green eyes trembled like leaves swaying in the wind.

At that moment, Tayton lowered his head slightly, his lips brushing her ear. He spoke in a sweet tone, as if whispering tender words to a lover.

Hailey flinched, her rounded shoulders rising slightly as if tickled by his breath. In a low voice, Tayton murmured:

“What’s your game, Hailey Salmon?”

She glanced at him sideways, her face showing great discomfort, before speaking in a hesitant voice.

“Your Grace…”

“Speak.”

Tayton raised an eyebrow, gazing down at her face, which had flushed a deep red before paling just as quickly.

“What should I do? I’ve never danced before.”

“Ha.”

He let out a languid sigh and pressed her back gently, leaning her into him. Her cheek touched his chest, eliciting a soft gasp from somewhere nearby.

“And yet you boldly asked me for a dance?”

“…”

“Just leave it to me. Even if you’re a poor dancer, you can manage walking, can’t you? As long as your legs are intact.”

“…Yes.”

Tayton began to move slowly, and Hailey instinctively followed his lead. The two swayed in a gentle, unhurried rhythm, even in the absence of music.

Belatedly realizing the situation, the musicians scrambled to start playing. Tayton and Hailey stepped modestly but elegantly to the newly struck melody.

Onlookers, initially incredulous, began to murmur as they watched the pair. The Duke, dancing with someone other than the Princess, was a sight no one had ever seen before.

In fact, even the Princess had consistently refused his offers to dance with various excuses. It would be more accurate to say this was the first time anyone had seen the Duke dance at all.

Tayton led with effortless skill, his movements so fluid that no one would suspect he once walked with a limp.

In contrast, Hailey’s steps were clumsy, her face shy as she buried it in the Duke’s chest, letting him guide her completely.

The two looked surprisingly close.

“What… could their relationship be?”

“I always thought it was strange that Miss Hailey Salmon stayed at the mansion for over three weeks. Could it be…?”

“No way, would he look elsewhere when the beautiful Princess is right there?”

“But love often strikes like fate, doesn’t it? Besides, while the Princess is dazzling, Miss Hailey Salmon’s looks are nothing to scoff at. Just look at her; even with her simple attire, she’s stunning.”

“This is such a blow to Princess Irene’s pride. I thought she disliked the Duke, but it turns out he might have someone else he loves.”

“Shh! The Princess might hear you.”

The murmuring ceased momentarily as people glanced cautiously at Irene.

Having refused the Duke’s invitation to dance, she now stared daggers at the pair as though she were the one rejected.

Her clear blue eyes trembled with barely contained fury, the subtle vibrations soon overtaking her entirely. Irene’s shoulders began to shake visibly.

She was aware of the curious gazes fixed on her, but she refused to tear her eyes away from the Duke. Her fingers tightened their grip.

Andrei, standing beside her, looked down in alarm at his hand, caught in her grasp. Her long nails dug into the back of his hand.

At that moment, the Duke leaned down to whisper something into Hailey’s ear. Her earlobes flushed a deep red. With every breath that brushed her ear, her delicate shoulders quivered like a startled bird.

“…”

This is absurd.

Irene clenched her fists again.

The Duke, rejected by her, was supposed to wear a wounded expression, bearing the humiliation alone. That was his debt to her—the price of being engaged to the cursed Duke.

And yet, there he was, dancing with such ease, as if he were the very star of the ball.

In a moment of intense realization, Irene’s lofty pride shattered with a sharp crack. What she had treated so delicately, like glass, splintered irreparably with just one blow.

“Your Highness.”

Andrei called out to her frozen form, giving her hand a light squeeze. Then, in the next moment—

“!”

Irene shook off his hand and left the hall. Even though she knew it was akin to declaring her own defeat, she couldn’t bear to watch any longer.

“Your Highness, please wait a moment!”

Andrei hurriedly followed after her.

Meanwhile, Albert quietly watched Hailey’s retreating figure. His blue eyes, filled with a storm of emotions, settled into a calm like the sea before a tempest.

He silently clenched his empty fist, as if trying to grasp something. Something soft and warm.

But before he could even reach it, it slipped away, like grains of sand sifting through his fingers.

Tayton Gunner.

Albert slowly raised his head and quietly gazed at the Duke’s back.

“Your Grace, a little slower, please…”

Hailey let out a soft, plaintive sound. She couldn’t collect herself. She’d already stepped on the Duke’s feet more times than she could count.

She resembled a swan—appearing graceful as she danced with the Duke, yet her feet hidden beneath her dress moved busily, clumsily.

So this is what Marty meant when he said to be as diligent as a swan.

Hailey tried to suppress the urge to cry and instead smiled even brighter. Each time she did, gasps of admiration erupted from the crowd.

Unbeknownst to her, Hailey’s boldness—holding the hand of the cursed Duke without shrinking back and smiling radiantly—had turned her into a kind of heroine in their eyes.

“Miss Hailey Salmon.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Distracted by her tangled steps, she answered absentmindedly. Whoops—she stepped on the Duke’s foot again.

But Tayton showed no sign of irritation. She could only hope his leather shoes were sturdy enough.

“So you’ve finally admitted it.”

“…Pardon?”

Hailey looked up at him with wide, confused eyes, wondering what on earth he was talking about while she was already struggling with the dance.

“You’re trying to trip me, aren’t you?”

“I have no such intention.”

Hailey replied firmly, her innocent eyes showing not even a hint of duplicity. Tayton chuckled softly under his breath.

“And yet, here you are, disregarding societal etiquette and challenging Princess Irene in front of everyone. No need to deny it.”

“That’s not it…”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Miss Hailey Salmon, but I must reiterate—you’re not my type.”

“No, I really didn’t…”

“The only reason I didn’t decline your dance invitation was out of gentlemanly consideration for your honor. I hope you don’t read too much into this dance.”

At last, Hailey realized how ridiculous she must appear. She could feel the sharp gazes piercing her back.

What is this, a scene from Beauty and the Beast?

Recalling Belle dancing with the beastly prince, Hailey let out a silent sigh. She knew she should have stayed out of it.

Yet, even if she could go back, she would have made the same choice. Perhaps the hand Hailey reached out to wasn’t Tayton’s but her own.

She was lost, with no idea where to go, her heart left hollow and aching.

“Haah.”

With a long sigh, she let her shoulders droop, surrendering to the Duke’s lead. Like a jellyfish swept along by the tide, she moved limply in his grasp.

“Much better.”

Above her, the Duke’s satisfied voice sounded. Hailey glanced up at him incredulously.

“This is better?”

“Don’t try so hard. I already know you can’t dance. When that’s the case, just lean on your partner.”

“Y-yes, yes.”

Hailey lowered her head with a sulky expression, though a faint smile played on her lips.

Don’t try so hard.

Strangely, those teasing words felt like a small comfort to her. Maybe she’d been trying too hard all this time—until her heart was worn ragged.

She had never once relied on someone else. Her life was hers to bear, and leaning on someone felt like shifting her burdens onto them.

Thud.

Hailey’s forehead lightly bumped against his chest. His intensely calm silver eyes looked down at her orange hair.

Just as she thought his arm around her waist tightened slightly, the long melody came to an end.

“…”

“…”

Neither spoke first. As the music faded, the two stood still, gazing at each other. Silver eyes reflected green, and green eyes shimmered with silver.

Only then did Hailey step back, feeling a twinge of reluctance. The hand that had held her waist until the very last moment slowly let go.

“Thank you.”

Hailey grasped the hem of her dress with both hands and curtsied politely to Tayton.

Suddenly, she realized she felt a pang of regret. Her face fell, as if the sky itself had crumbled, and she shook her head firmly, trying to dismiss the thought.

As she retreated to an inconspicuous corner, she let out another silent sigh. She was exhausted. Somehow, she felt that she might actually sleep soundly tonight.

“…”

Tayton, meanwhile, quietly looked down at his hand, still warm from her touch, before clenching it into a fist.

He turned his gaze slowly toward Hailey, who was leaving the hall with a weary expression. Watching her retreating figure, he then shifted his attention to Albert, whose eyes were also following her.

Tayton’s cold, silver eyes hardened, and he began walking directly toward Albert.

“I don’t recall inviting you. I wasn’t aware you had a hobby of attending uninvited soirées.”

At the voice from behind him, Albert turned slowly. Tayton stood leaning slightly on his cane, his piercing gaze fixed on him.

“I’m attending as a representative of the Blair family. My father had urgent matters to attend to and was unable to make it.”

“And what of Raymond Blair? Oh, I suppose I should call him Earl Blair now. I heard he recently inherited one of your father’s titles.”

The implication was clear—why was the younger son representing the family instead of the eldest? For a brief moment, Albert’s blue eyes burned with restrained anger.

Tayton observed this with amused eyes. He disliked Albert. Their enmity went back to their days at the Royal Academy.

From the very beginning, he couldn’t stand Albert’s sanctimonious demeanor, especially coming from a second son.

***

“Tayton Gunner came in first again. They say he’s the cursed Duke—do you think he made a deal with a witch or something?”

“Exactly. How else could he always come in first since enrollment? He’s always lounging around whenever I see him. Isn’t that right, Albert?”

“It’s not good to gossip behind someone’s back. Do you think Tayton Gunner achieves results without effort? The last light to go out and the first to turn on in the dormitory always come from his room.”

“Oh, no, that’s not what we meant…”

***

Yes, ever since that moment when Albert had pitied him as though he stood on higher ground.

Tayton’s eyes gleamed with mockery. Albert wasn’t like other nobles. Unlike those who bowed and scraped before absolute power while harboring hidden thoughts, Albert was aloof from beginning to end.

And that, in itself, was insufferable.

Tayton also knew full well that Albert disliked him in return. To Albert, who was more capable than Raymond but had nothing to inherit, Tayton must have been both an object of envy and resentment.

“My brother is attending a business meeting with my father.”

“I see. Well then, enjoy yourself.”

Tayton left only those words before turning away coldly. The two men were like parallel lines—destined never to intersect or understand each other, even in death.

Not that either of them cared to try.