I stood in the center of the hall, hesitant, my body stiff with tension. Lucas wrapped his hand around my waist and pulled me closer. When I startled at the sudden proximity, he offered a reassuring smile and reached out to take my right hand. I shook my head, my eyes darting in confusion.
“Look up.”
“Pardon? Oh, yes.”
As I nodded, Lucas smiled again.
“Relax your body and follow my lead.”
“Yes.”
Soon, a new classical piece began to play.
My body grew even more rigid. He whispered for me to loosen up and took a slow step forward. I followed, stepping hesitantly as he guided me, and slowly, I began to fall into rhythm with him.
He adjusted his pace to match mine. Although I remained a beat behind, I followed him as best I could. After a few turns, dancing proved less daunting than I had imagined.
The hem of my skirt flared and gathered in time with my movements. Right, left, and then a spin. As I kept pace, Lucas’s eyes curved into crescents, signaling his approval. I tugged at the corners of my lips in a smile, syncing my feet to his.
Then, the floor suddenly felt soft and yielding.
“Ugh.”
“Hah.”
I had accidentally stepped right on top of his foot.
“I—I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright.”
I pulled my shoe away immediately. Lucas winced, struggling to keep his smile intact as he regained his posture. The brief flicker of instability faded, and we began to move naturally again.
But a moment later, my feet tangled, and I kicked his calf.
“Ugh!”
Lucas couldn’t hide the pain and let out a groan.
“…….”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t know much, but I knew I had kicked him hard; the sensation of hitting bone and muscle had been jarringly sharp.
Lucas stumbled, then quickly steadied himself.
“I apologize. I’m just not used to this…….”
“I—it’s fine.”
But his face didn’t look fine. As he sneakily rubbed his calf against his other leg, it was clear he was truly in pain. Feeling wretched, I bowed my head. The memory of that impact made my next steps even more cautious.
I stepped on his feet a few more times after that. Each time, my head sank lower. To make matters worse, the music dragged on. For this moment at least, I resented that soft, gentle melody.
“Paula. You are doing very well.”
“……I would like for it to end soon.”
At that, he whispered, “Then shall we finish?” into my ear. I nodded quickly, and a soft laugh followed.
At that moment.
“Eek!”
He sharply dipped my waist backward and lifted one of my legs. I gripped his shoulders in fear, my field of vision turning completely upside down. Fortunately, I didn’t fall; Lucas supported my back with one arm and cradled my raised leg with his other hand.
What kind of position was this? I was bent backward as if lying down, my right leg held in the air. I simply blinked, staring at the beautiful chandelier on the ceiling, until Lucas popped into my view. Unlike me, who was flustered, he wore his usual calm smile.
“Doesn’t that make for a quite convincing finish?”
“…….”
I didn’t know about that, but I thought my heart was going to stop.
I barely managed to calm my pounding pulse. Surely he could see me glaring through the stray strands of hair, silently asking if he couldn’t have warned me first. Lucas smiled mischievously. It was clearly intentional—a petty revenge for stepping on his feet and kicking his calf.
Just then, the music ended. Applause echoed through the quiet room. I turned my head toward the sound and saw Ethan jump to his feet, clapping. It would have been better if he didn’t have meat hanging from his mouth.
As I struggled to right myself, Lucas let me go. Once both feet were safely on the ground, Violet applauded as well.
“That was so beautiful, Paula.”
“Thank you.”
I smiled awkwardly and looked at Vincent. He was looking elsewhere.
Suddenly, a palm blocked my view. I turned to see Lucas waving his hand, his face somewhat stiff. As our eyes met, his expression transformed, colored by that same gentle affection as if nothing had happened. He reached his hand out again.
“Shall we dance once more?”
“I must decline.”
This time, I shook my head firmly. It seemed he wanted my feet to swell to the size of balloons. I could dance if he insisted, but I was already exhausted from keeping my guard up.
My gaze shifted forward. Vincent and Violet were exchanging words, looking like lovers whispering secrets.
As I felt my attention drift to the lovely sight, Lucas spoke in a voice low enough for only me to hear.
“Paula.”
“Yes.”
“This time, dance with whoever you want to dance with.”
Surprised by his unexpected words, I looked at Lucas. He gestured toward the front. I turned to look at the two affectionate people, then back at Lucas. He was still smiling, but it looked somehow bittersweet. Was it really that hurtful not to dance again?
“Are you sure I can?”
“Of course. We’re the only ones here anyway. It wouldn’t be strange to dance with anyone.”
If that was the case. I nodded and walked forward. My dress rustled softly, and my shoes made rhythmic clicks against the floor. Both of them turned toward me at the sound. I scanned their faces and stood beside the person I was most grateful for.
My partner’s eyes widened. I placed one hand behind my back, extended the other forward, and bowed slightly—a clumsy imitation of the pose Lucas had taken. It was a movement I had never done before, but it was far more comfortable than lifting a skirt and curtsying.
“Violet-nim.”
“Yes?”
“Would you dance with me?”
She blinked in surprise. I gestured with my hand, waiting. After a moment of silence, a burst of loud laughter erupted from behind me. Vincent, who had been listening to our conversation, covered his mouth and turned his head, though he couldn’t hide the laughter escaping through his teeth.
No, was there a law that said only men and women could dance together? Perhaps there was, but I decided to be shameless. As Lucas said, we were the only ones here; there was no need to stand on ceremony.
A moment later, amid the lively laughter, Violet smiled brightly and took my hand. We stood facing each other in the center of the hall as a faster-tempo piece filled the room.
“Hehe, and so, you see.”
“Yes.”
The lively voice, tireless even after whispering through the night, continued. The lamp, the only light illuminating the darkness, shone on Violet. I shared stories with her, talking endlessly as she laughed happily. We spoke of trivial daily life and shared memories of the past.
While we were deep in conversation, Violet rubbed her eyes. I told her she should sleep and pulled the sheets up to cover her. She whined that it was a pity, but she couldn’t overcome the wave of sleepiness.
Only the moon remained in the quiet silence. I blew out the lamp and lay down, watching the sleeping Violet before closing my own eyes.
A ray of light stretched out from the darkness. As it spread, a magnificent hall with a glittering chandelier unfolded. The room was filled with fast-tempo music and the sound of clapping, heating up the atmosphere. The joyous laughter, the beaming faces, and us dancing without a care for billowing skirts or rumpled tailcoats. Even Isabella, who usually held herself so stiffly, was laughing along with us.
Casting aside all formalities, decorum, and social classes, we had simply pursued pure joy.
When I opened my eyes, darkness rushed in. The noisy laughter and the music had vanished, and stillness filled the air. The events of the afternoon felt as distant as a dream. My heart felt heavy, the excitement still bubbling within my chest.
In the end, I could not fall asleep.
Just a little longer—I wanted to hold onto this feeling.
I sat up and moved carefully so as not to wake Violet. I stepped off the bed, walking as silently as possible. Fumbling through the darkness, I found my shawl and draped it over my shoulders. I intended to go for a simple walk to ruminate on these feelings.
I left the room carrying a lamp. Even closing the door felt like a cautious endeavor. I looked at the moon hanging brightly outside the hallway window before setting the lamp on the windowsill. Just as I was lighting it, the sound of a door bursting open echoed through the air. Startled, I turned around to find Vincent Bellunita standing there.
“Master?”
His pale complexion caught my eye first. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. Seeing that he didn’t look well, I approached him, and his glassy eyes fixed upon me.
“……Is it you?”
He asked me that from time to time. And I knew the moments when he would ask.
“Yes. It’s me.”
“Are you sure it’s you?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
His hand reached out and grabbed mine. His fingertips, stroking my wrist, were trembling. He pulled me toward him and buried his face in my shoulder. I could hear his ragged breathing.
“Did you have a nightmare?”
He nodded. His golden hair rubbed against my cheek, tickling me.
“Then why did you come out?”
“I heard a sound.”
“What would you have done if it wasn’t me?”
“I felt like it would be you.”
*I felt like it would be you, so I came out.*
I didn’t ask any further. His rough breathing gradually began to settle. The hand that had been stroking my wrist slid down to interlace its fingers with mine. The trembling slowly subsided.
I curled and uncurled the fingers he was holding.
“Would you like to walk a little?”
He nodded again.
Holding his hand, I carried the lit lamp in my other and walked down the hallway. Two sets of footsteps echoed through the silent corridor.
“I want to get some fresh air.”
“Shall we go outside, then?”
Leading him as he nodded, I brought him out of the mansion. The night air was quite chilly. The outdoors was, naturally, silent. It was too late to go far, so we walked toward the garden. Everyone would be asleep, so there was no worry of running into anyone.
The pitch-black sky was studded with stars. The sky was clear tonight, making them even more visible. They were beautiful. I filled my eyes with the twinkling expanse. A star streaked across the sky and fell. As I walked along, watching the sight, a fountain appeared. Despite the hour, the fountain was still spraying water.