Germo’s face showed a look that said “is this really necessary?“, but seeing Astaire’s furrowed brow, he quickly composed his expression.

“And it would be best not to let her go out for the time being.”

Whenever the First Prince smiled like that, something bad always happened.

He generously supported his allies, but once he caught a whiff of something suspicious, he would dig into their background until the end of the world.

Of course, even if the First Prince dug into his background, there would be nothing to find.

But if he laid a hand on his wife, Daphne…

“Your Grace?”

The champagne glass in Astaire’s hand had shattered.

“I’ll take care of it.”

Germo collected the broken champagne pieces with his gloved hand and skillfully pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket to hand to the Duke.

The Duke wiped his alcohol-soaked hand with an expressionless face.

Step by step.

The ballroom, dazzling with chandelier lights, was right ahead.

Just then.

“Oh my!”

“Did you just hear that?”

A small commotion broke out in the ballroom.

* * *

Daphne looked at the man before her without hiding the flustered expression on her face.

More precisely, at the white hand he held out.

Unlike Astaire’s, this hand had calluses built up at various joints. A hand that brought to mind a knight gripping a sword.

And the owner of that hand.

“Would you dance with me?”

A pleasant baritone voice came from above her head.

Daphne quietly swallowed and looked up again at the man who’d asked her to dance.

It was Second Prince Phaios.

Even after that subtle conflict with Astaire earlier, he was still trying to approach her.

But why?

Hiding her confused feelings, she forced the corners of her mouth up into a smile. Then she spoke in the most polite voice she could manage.

“I…”

“I’d like my first dance tonight to be with you, my lady.”

Phaios spoke firmly, seemingly refusing to accept any refusal from the start.

Then he tilted his head slightly and whispered in a voice just loud enough for Daphne to hear.

“My lady, it’s just a dance.”

He was right.

Normally, people rarely asked married women to dance, but it was different if the other party was royalty.

Lovers, siblings, old friends. They could dance with anyone.

There was nothing strange about a noblewoman dancing once with royalty.

But the problem was, that noblewoman was Duchess Seyfried.

“What’s going on here?”

And interestingly enough, that lady’s husband had just appeared.

A man who could stand tall and straight even before royalty asking his wife to dance.

There was only one man in the Avont Empire who could do that.

Duke Seyfried.

“Duke. Would you permit me to share the opening dance of the evening with your wife?”

“No.”

The Duke refused flatly without a moment’s hesitation.

“Gasp.”

“Oh my!”

“Even so, to that extent?”

A dance was just a dance. Especially when the Second Prince, tonight’s guest of honor, was specially requesting the first dance—accepting should have been an honor for the other party.

However, Astaire looked at the Second Prince with undisguised displeasure, furrowing his brow.

“Our relationship isn’t leisurely enough for dancing, is it? I’m sure Your Highness knows that well.”

“Duke, it’s just a dance.”

Phaios seemed a bit flustered by Astaire’s response.

“I simply wanted to share the first dance with the Empire’s most famous lady, don’t misunderstand.”

“Even so, asking another man’s woman to dance is a bit much, even for a prince, don’t you think?”

Astaire whispered menacingly.

Nobles around them kept glancing this way. Conscious of them, Astaire smiled gently, but his eyes showed no friendliness whatsoever.

“Actually, I have something to say to the Duchess.”

“I don’t know what you could possibly have to say to my wife.”

Once again caught between two men, Daphne didn’t know what to do in this situation. She showed a troubled expression.

For a moment, her eyes met Phaios’s.

Then, for some reason, Daphne felt a strong sense that she absolutely needed to hear what he wanted to say.

“Astaire, it’s just a dance.”

So she deliberately held Astaire’s hand tightly and spoke. Dancing with the Second Prince was nothing at all.

“…”

Astaire said nothing. He simply left his hand in Daphne’s grasp.

Then the Duke pulled his hand from Daphne’s grip and placed his hand over hers. Then he interlaced their fingers tightly.

Like a spider wrapping its prey tightly in a web. He held her so she couldn’t pull her hand away.

Daphne felt a faint pain while trying not to grimace.

“Then, my lady, how about dancing with me first?”

Everyone around them was shocked by those words.

Even so, it was proper for the Second Prince, the evening’s guest of honor, to dance the first dance and officially open the ball.

But even though he was Duke Seyfried, for him to dance first, leaving the Second Prince aside—

This made no sense.

“Duke—”

The Second Prince was opening his mouth to point this out.

“Why, is there a reason it can’t happen?”

Another voice interjected.

First Prince Carlos.

“We greet the First Prince.”

All three people present turned their attention to the First Prince. It was a perfectly natural reaction.

“My dear brother, even in a ballroom, isn’t it a bit much to ask a woman with a husband to dance?”

The First Prince spoke with a smile, his characteristically upturned eyes crinkling.

“…”

The Second Prince, on the other hand, wasn’t smiling at all.

“…My apologies, my lady.”

In the end, the Second Prince declared his surrender.

He stared for a long while at Astaire and Daphne’s clasped hands, seemingly never to be separated.

Just as the ballroom atmosphere was about to grow heavy, a perceptive attendant signaled to the orchestra to change the music’s mood.

“Now then, for the Second Prince who has returned safely. Everyone raise your glasses.”

“For the Second Prince!”

“For the great Avont Empire!”

Though this was clearly a ball for the Second Prince, a strange atmosphere formed with the First Prince leading the event.

But no one pointed out this odd situation. No matter that the Second Prince had returned as a war hero, the First Prince’s position in the capital’s political circles was still far superior.

“Well then, I hope the Duke and Duchess enjoy themselves as well.”

The First Prince smiled and spoke toward Astaire and Daphne.

* * *

“Why on earth did he ask you to dance?”

“…I don’t know either.”

“Answer me.”

“Not knowing is my answer.”

Seemingly displeased with Daphne’s quiet response, Astaire held her hand and spun Daphne around.

Her dress, decorated with various jewels, fluttered slightly in the air. Daphne felt momentarily dizzy from the turn.

Following the melody of string instruments, Astaire and Daphne repeatedly moved apart and came close together.

“Many eyes are watching.”

“I know.”

“Conduct yourself properly.”

The moment she was pulled into Astaire’s broad chest, the Duke whispered in her ear.

The warm breath felt somehow chilling. Daphne quietly bit her lip.

“I don’t know about other men, but not the Second Prince.”

“…What do you take me for?”

“If the man you’d choose after abandoning me is someone as pathetic as the Second Prince.”

Daphne found it increasingly difficult to keep her face from contorting. What on earth was he talking about?

She couldn’t just listen quietly any longer.

“If you’re going to switch, at least switch to someone better than him.”

“…I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Or just stay attached to me.”

Clearly at this tempo, she should step again and move away from him.

Yet Astaire ignored the music and continued speaking while keeping Daphne embraced.

“Because I’m the best option.”

The moment she saw his eyes glinting sharply, Daphne felt her breath catch in her chest.

It was no different from saying he’d lock her in a cage for the rest of her life until she died.

“Maybe I should just break you so you can’t escape.”

“Your Grace!”

She got goosebumps without realizing it from the chilling atmosphere flowing from him. Her spine stiffened as Daphne shrank in his embrace.

“Relax.”

“…”

“Would I do something bad to you?”

“…Because it seems like you’re about to.”

At those words, Astaire chuckled. It was a laugh whose meaning couldn’t be understood.

Before long, the music had ended.

Only then did Astaire spread his arms to let her fly away. Daphne gasped for breath as she escaped from his embrace.

Without realizing it, she looked back.

The moment her eyes met Astaire’s, her heart became complicated in an instant.

What exactly was confusing her heart?

Even she didn’t know well.

“Go wherever you want, Daphne.”

“…”

“Because you’ll end up in my arms anyway.”

* * *

Meanwhile, Reina stood at a distance, watching the four of them.

She wanted to immediately abandon these young noble ladies who were looking at her with shining eyes and go speak to the Duke and Duchess, the First Prince, and the Second Prince.

But circumstances didn’t allow it.

“What happened?”

Reina grabbed a lower-ranking noble lady approaching from that direction and spoke to her, seemingly asking for an explanation. The lady even blinked in surprise, wondering if the famous Marquis’s daughter Reina Melanian had really spoken to her.

Reina gave her a smile as beautiful as sunshine.

Of course, inwardly she was thinking why that girl was standing there looking so stupid.

“Well, um… the Second Prince requested the first dance from Duchess Seyfried!”

That alone was surprising enough, but what followed was shocking.

“But the Duke showed displeasure toward the Second Prince.”

Astaire did?

Reina deliberately kept an even brighter expression and continued listening.

“The First Prince came over and took Duke Seyfried’s side, so the Duke and Duchess ended up dancing the ball’s first dance!”

The ladies around them all showed surprised faces.

But some had reactions that said “as expected.”

Royalty, yet not quite royalty.

That was the assessment following the Second Prince, who had just entered Avont Empire politics.

The Second Prince was clearly a bastard, born to the current Emperor’s beloved mistress.

But after the Empress, the First Prince’s birth mother, died, when Phaios was added to the royal family tree, the Empire’s political circles began to stir.

High-ranking nobles with strong conservative leanings viewed Phaios’s chances as very low.

However, some nobles and most of the Empire’s citizens supported Phaios, not Carlos, as the next emperor.

Still weak for now, but a butterfly’s wingbeat might someday return as a typhoon.