“His Majesty the King, Her Majesty the Queen, and Her Highness the Princess have arrived!”

The bustling ballroom fell silent instantly, and everyone’s gaze turned expectantly toward a single spot, waiting for the royal family to enter.

Xeroth, wearing a cloak embroidered with the royal emblem in golden thread, stepped slowly onto the central second-floor balcony, followed closely by Queen Esna Bailey. Her once-modest appearance when she first joined the royal family was long gone; her calm brown hair now shimmered under a diamond-studded tiara.

Then, Helia appeared in a sky-blue dress adorned with intricately set jewels. Her ruby-red hair and golden eyes sparkled dazzlingly under the lights, lending her an almost overwhelming air of splendor.

Ruben unconsciously narrowed one eye, resisting the urge to turn away from her piercing golden gaze, which seemed undoubtedly directed at him despite the distance.

After the formal greetings to the royals, the guests resumed mingling freely. As usual, Ruben was quickly surrounded by people. At that moment, a woman with hair like finely spun gold and striking blue eyes approached him lightly. The crowd parted instinctively to make way for her.

Lady Cleta Harpers, the celebrated daughter of the prominent Marquis Harpers, was one of the social season’s most renowned figures. With her lily-like beauty and captivating eloquence across politics, philosophy, and the arts, she drew admiration from all.

More than anything, she was one of the few ladies bold enough to request a dance from Ruben whenever he attended these gatherings, which had earned her significant fame in society. Although it was a mild rumor compared to talk of him and the Saintess, gossip about a possible relationship between Ruben and Cleta had circulated, and Cleta secretly enjoyed it.

“It’s a pleasure to see you, Duke Effenberg.”

“It has been a while, Lady Harpers.”

“I thought I’d only see you at the Harvest Festival, so I can’t express how delighted I am to meet you again so soon.”

Cleta spoke brightly, not hiding her slight blush, and her tone was charming enough to capture the attention of everyone around her.

The reason she could be his partner wasn’t anything other than the fact that Ruben conversed with her reasonably frequently. While other young ladies hesitated from a distance, Cleta was one of the few who approached him confidently. The Harpers’ family name and reputation gave her the confidence to stand at Ruben’s side.

For Ruben, though, she was simply a familiar acquaintance with whom he could dance. Cleta, however, was not naive enough to be unaware of this. But to the uninformed young ladies observing from afar, the idea of a connection between the two was a source of constant anxiety.

Feeling overwhelmed by the constant flow of people around him, Ruben was grateful for Cleta’s presence. Just as he was about to invite her for a dance to lift his spirits, another voice interrupted.

“Would you care for a dance, Duke?”

The voice was clear and cheerful, though its invitation was anything but lighthearted. Naturally, all eyes turned in her direction. Helia, who had somehow come down unnoticed, was smiling enchantingly, her amber eyes gleaming with mischief.

The spectators were stunned. A lady asking a gentleman for a dance was rare enough, but for that lady to be Princess Helia Bailey—the only princess of the royal family—was shocking. Even for a monarchy less than fifty years old, this was unprecedented. People began whispering, unable to contain their reactions.

Unperturbed by the attention, Helia extended her hand toward Ruben, who merely stared at it.

He could not fathom what was going through her mind. He could feel some willingness in this interaction if he could understand her. But he could not understand her, and her inexplicable actions only filled him with resistance.

Finally, Ruben stifled a sigh and took her hand, lightly pressing his lips to her fingertips.

The crowd parted as they glided to the center of the ballroom. Everyone else ceased dancing to watch them, transfixed by the unexpected pair.

There had once been rumors that they were close as children, hence why he was nicknamed the “Princess’s Sword.” But even the most trivial interaction between them was almost nonexistent. If they happened to be in the same space, they ignored each other entirely. People speculated that they had quarreled, that Ruben rejected her outright, or that the rumor was merely a product of Helia’s imagination. Of course, these were all just rumors.

Ruben placed his hand on Helia’s waist, and she rested hers on his shoulder. He applied a slight pressure with his hand, and she responded by sliding her hand even closer. Their breaths were now within reach, bringing them almost as close as lovers about to share a kiss. If it weren’t for the lack of warmth in their gazes, they would have looked like a perfect couple.

It was the first time he had seen her this close in ten years. Her golden eyes, illuminated by the chandelier, fixed intently on him. Her lips curved in a faint smirk, and her cheeks were faintly flushed—perhaps from the heat of the ballroom.

Ruben felt no stirrings of affection, even if one might think he would. Helia was never someone he could feel that way about.

He took a light step forward, breaking the silence.

“What are you thinking?”

“My fiancé didn’t seem to have any intention of asking me to dance,” she replied.

“…”

“Before escorting another woman, I took the initiative.”

Helia’s tone was casual as if she were selecting food at a market. Yet her words had a pointed sharpness that drained any will to continue the conversation. Just a few words in, Ruben already felt a headache forming at the thought of dealing with her.

“If that bothered you, you could have said so.”

“…”

“Oh, but of course, you would never speak to me first.”

Helia let out a dismissive chuckle. Ruben endured the stares pouring over him like a torrential rain. If he couldn’t even bear the glances she threw at him, he couldn’t stand in this place. He had been trained for this since childhood, the habit of endurance ingrained in him over time.

“So this is how you intend to go about things,” he said.

“Isn’t it a little late for that?” Helia laughed mockingly. With no further room for dialogue, Ruben closed his mouth. Any more conversation would be a pointless waste of energy. He just wanted to finish the dance and immediately let go of her hand.

The music shifted to a faster rhythm, and Helia perfectly followed Ruben’s complex lead. She didn’t step on his feet, falter, or even tense up; she moved fluidly, letting him guide her. It was a display of complete trust in her partner.

Was she always this skilled at dancing? He couldn’t remember. He had always tried to avoid her in places like this, working hard to stay out of sight. All he could recall was the young girl who’d awkwardly trample his feet during practice, apologizing repeatedly.

As those memories resurfaced, Ruben felt irritation bubble up again. Recently, unwanted memories kept rising to the surface. He knew the reason. This was bound to happen the moment he encountered Helia.

“You dance rather aggressively, Duke. Is it because of your choice of partner?” Helia quipped sharply in the middle of their dance. Suppressing a gaze that threatened to turn harsh, Ruben looked down, keeping his expression neutral. He was mystified by the venom that seemed to radiate from this petite woman in his arms.

“It’s the same as always.”

“In that case, you must have practically embraced the other ladies. They must have been utterly dazzled,” she sneered, her laughter empty. Ruben gathered all his patience to keep his expression from contorting.

“Your words are offensive to the ladies. Please retract them.”

“And why would I? It’s all thanks to you, after all.”

Instead of snapping back at her absurd blame, Ruben ended the conversation. Engaging with her would have led nowhere.

“Enough. Many eyes are watching.”

“Since when have you cared about trivial things like that?”