Chapter 49

Translated by Watermelon and Doldrums



Will you teach me how to dance?



The more they danced, the more the smile faded from Almondite's lips. His turquoise eyes were staring intently at Llewelyn, his hand tightly embracing her waist. His firm grip on their intertwined fingers indicated that he had no intention of letting her go.



Llewelyn looked up at Almondite's grave face.



'Llewelyn.'



She reminisced about the first time he had asked her to dance. He had been seventeen at the time, and had looked at a then fourteen-year-old Llewelyn with a bashful expression.



'Will you dance with me?'



Unfazed by how magnificent he had looked, Llewelyn had accepted his outstretched hand and had gleefully walked out onto the dance floor. She had been wearing a sparkly cerulean dress, while Almondite had dressed in order to match her.



And just like that, their clumsy, yet thrilling, first dance had begun. At some point, Llewelyn had made a small mistake, but she had enjoyed her dance with Almondite so much that as soon as it was over, she had burst into laughter.



Their first dance had felt like a dream.



But now, Llewelyn no longer made any mistakes. Even though she didn’t usually get to dance, she was still very much au fait with the steps.



The men and women dancing in the center of the room painted quite the beautiful scene, but this was nothing compared to the fresh excitement she had felt in the past. Now only dour emotions remained: distress, remorse, sadness, and resentment…her eternal companions.




The realization woke her up from her reverie and Llewelyn let go of his hand as soon as the music ceased. That was all in the past now, and their relationship could no longer go back to the way it used to be.



But if she was starting to feel the same kind of closeness, affection, and longing for him as she did in the past… What would become of her lonely and tedious life?



Maybe there had been some truth to Celine’s statement. When their survival had been at stake, Almondite had to ensure his livelihood. How could she blame him for that? Celine had found a way to keep her head up, and Almondite had merely done the same.


Arresting her mother and exiling her to another country would have been a decision he had no choice but to make. Should she try to be more understanding?



If she were to be truly honest with herself, Llewelyn was aware that she had done nothing but complain and brood like a little child. That was because she knew very well that this man, her fiancé who had vowed to stay by her side for the rest of her life, who had been her closest friend and confidant...she knew that he would accept her no matter what.



“Llewelyn.”



“...”



"Sorry I was late."



Almondite drew Llewelyn closer to him, as she was trying to swiftly escape, and pulled her into an embrace. Offering her little words of apology, he buried his face in the small of her neck. Llewelyn couldn't figure out why he was acting this way.



"Stop that", she whispered quietly.



But Almandite pretended not to hear.



“Are you drunk?”



At Llewelyn's words, he let out a wheezing sound, betraying a veiled chuckle. Llewelyn looked around at the people beside them. Every attendee was staring at the pair like they couldn’t believe their eyes, a bewildered expression on their faces. They too were probably remembering the first dance she had shared with Almondite. Llewelyn realized that for the other aristocrats, this dance had crystallized Almondite and her as the perfect couple.


Even so, she couldn't figure out why this tower of a man was suddenly crouching and holding her in his arms.



With a small sigh, Llewelyn pulled herself away from Almondite. At least he wasn’t obnoxiously clinging to her anymore, but he was now looking at her with an undecipherable expression, sadness gleaming in his eyes like a blue moon reflecting on a lake. Llewelyn pointedly asked,



“Why are you being like this all of a sudden?”



“...”



“Please, just st—”



“Princess.”



Llewelyn turned her head to face the voice that had called her. Her eyes opened wide at the sight of the tall man standing in front of her.



“Sir Jayad.”



Tristan was looking at Llewelyn with an austere expression. He seemed perplexed, as if he couldn’t understand her. Llewelyn noted,



“I see you’re attending the banquet as well, Sir Jayad.”



“All knight commanders are to take part in it.”



"I see. Well, you look quite dashing in these clothes.”



"Thank you, Your Highness."



Despite Llewelyn's praise, Tristan's hard face did not relax one bit. A feeling of uneasiness gnawed at Llewelyn. No matter how stern Tristan originally was, his expression would occasionally soften when he looked at her. But right now, his face was rid of any trace of emotion. It looked like he was wearing a blank mask.



“What a nice ceremonial attire, Sir Jayad.”






"Thank you", replied Tristan to Almondite's words.



“However, you should change the color of that overly gaudy tie. It’s jarring with your skin tone.”




“I think it’s bright and suits him well. Why do you care about a mere tie, Duke?”, interjected Llewelyn.



“…”



“Sir Jayad is extremely diligent about his work and not the kind of person to care about the way he looks, unlike you.”



“I’ll let you know that I, too, take my job seriously.”



Ignoring the fleeting emotion that surreptitiously surfaced beneath Almondite’s blithe facade, Llewelyn smiled at Tristan.



“You’ve earned it, so please enjoy yourself and go chat with the others.”



“…”



“You shouldn’t be seen talking to me like this.”



The last words were almost whispered, but loud enough for Tristan to make sense of them. At her remark, Tristan seemed to take a step away from Llewelyn.



The corners of Llewelyn’s mouth quirked up. Good. This man was finally listening to her. However, not even a second after that thought had crossed her mind, he took Llewelyn's hand and knelt before her.



“…Oh."



A clamor immediately rippled among the throng. In an instant, she had become the main character of a scene too perfect for the gossipers’ eager tongues to ignore. A live rendition of the romanticized love affair between a woman and her two suitors. His rough lips grazed the back of Llewelyn's hand.



“Princess, will you teach me how to dance?”



He hadn’t bowed to her, but instead had gotten down on one knee and kissed her hand. It was the way the lower born asked someone of higher status for a dance. A commoner to a noble, or a noble to royalty.



By no means was it a greeting a knight commander would offer a derelict princess.



Tristan looked up at Llewelyn as if, by doing this, he was acknowledging her royal status.



Llewelyn swallowed with difficulty, her throat dry. His red eyes, shining with a tempestuous emotion, were looking straight at her. She would have understood if it had been Almondite, but why would Tristan ask her to dance?



Then she realized. Tristan was obsessed with her. Even though she had been telling him no, and asking him to leave on numerous occasions, he had been unyielding.



There was no way he wouldn't know the implication of asking her to dance, right there in front of everyone.



Llewelyn involuntarily looked behind her, wishing to see how Almondite would react. But when her eyes met Almondite’s steely gaze, he turned away and disappeared into the crowd. For some reason, her heart felt cold as ice.



Llewelyn looked at Tristan, still on his knees. The man couldn’t help but notice her fleeting moment of hesitation, and thus added,



“If you were to refuse me,”



“…”



“I may never muster up the courage to dance again.”



Llewelyn furrowed her eyebrows. What was he on about now? Llewelyn's gaze landed on her hand, encapsulated in Tristan’s. After a moment of hesitation, she made up her mind. Hadn’t she come to the resolution to stop pushing this man away? Llewelyn calmly replied,




"Sure. I'll show you then.”



At those words, Tristan rose, towering over her, and the music resumed. Now that the Golden Raven had performed the first dance and that the second one was starting, people entered the dance floor and began twirling around her.



"You lied to me."



Accused Llewelyn, who was whirling within Tristan’s arms. Taken aback, Tristan blinked, then asked,



“…What do you mean?”



“I’m talking about your dancing, you’re obviously not an amateur.”



Tristan, who looked like someone who would stay far away from any kind of social activity, was, surprisingly enough, not a clumsy dancer. It was quite unexpected.



“I practiced. I merely wanted to see how I’d fare in a practical setting.”



“And you decided to check this with me as your partner?”



Tristan said quietly,



“Wouldn’t it be the obvious choice? The only woman I know is the Princess.”



It did make sense. There was no way this man, who had the emotional capacity of an oyster, could have a close female acquaintance. He had no one else to turn to. Llewelyn nodded her head in concurrence.



“That was the first time I ever saw you dance, Your Highness.”



At Tristan's words, Llewelyn cleared her throat and asked,



“Ahem, and was my dancing up to your standard?”



"Yes."



“...”



“You looked beautiful.”



Llewelyn's face flushed red at the sudden bomb he had dropped on her. Did he mean anything by those words? She should probably thank him, but she was too stunned to speak. Tristan calmly added,

TL/N : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L5ieuGtWGrY



“I couldn’t understand why people were so nonsensically greedy. I used to treat those fools with scorn, even considered them vulgar and of poor character.”



"Pardon?"



What’s with the sudden introspection? Llewelyn was trying to figure out where this topic had come from, when Tristan resumed his soliloquy, ever so formal.



“But I understand them now.”



Llewelyn looked at Tristan. His red eyes were dark. Then Tristan’s arm latched around Llewelyn's waist, dragging her against him, pressing her body flush to his.



*



Llewelyn sneered dryly, thinking of the people who had been staring at her the whole time she had danced with Almondite and Tristan. It was evident that they would criticize her for being the woman who had entertained two gentlemen. At that moment, a jolly tune filled up the hall.



This melody was only played when the King danced. She turned around to see Bastian smiling and dancing with Vivian.



Wasn't their relationship supposed to be strained? Llewellyn was disconcerted.



Bastian put his hand on Vivian's waist, and took hold of her hand with his other one. His natural posture made them look like a painting. Pamela was watching, a bright smile illuminating her face, rejoicing in this merry union between her son and her soon-to-be daughter-in-law.



She looked as happy as if she had the whole world in the palm of her hand. Then her eyes met Llewelyn’s and annoyance flared through her steely blue gaze.




'Stay out of this.'



She stared Llewelyn into compliance. But Llewelyn had had no intention of interfering. Her mind was still set on going to the monastery and finish her days there.



The thought of which immediately brought Ernel's face to mind. It seemed to her that she should have a conversation with him, but where was he? Surely he had been invited to the Empire’s founding banquet. Come to think of it, it had been quite some time since she had last seen him.



The banquet’s atmosphere was at its peak. She had danced twice already, so she reckoned she could leave now, without much opprobrium. She slithered behind the carefree revelers, who were too busy dancing to notice her, when someone approached her.



“P-princess.”



“...”



“You were amazing today!”



That’s when Llewelyn suddenly noticed the girl standing in front of her, and gave her a perplexed look. The girl had a pale complexion and was anxiously twisting her hands. The clearest thing about this hazy appearance was the girl’s purple dress.



"I really like the color of your dress."



At Llewelyn's praise, the girl squealed with glee, clasping her hands together.



“D-do you really think so? The gown her Majesty, the Queen, wore last time was so splendid that I... But the Princess's golden dress was also very beautiful!”



Llewelyn smiled bitterly at her. Now it was clear that this kid had just debuted into the social world, and wasn’t yet aware of her own circumstances. She wasn’t an aristocratic lady who had received a formal education, but most likely a rising noble from a merchant background. Llewelyn wondered how she should deal with her.



“Princess!”



She recognized Tristan’s voice, who was now striding toward her. Seeing that, she let out a sigh. By exiting that way, the knights on duty would have seen her and escorted her back anyway, but it still didn’t seem to be enough for him, as he was now following after her.



Llewelyn saw the girl blush, as she endeavored to fix her hair. The little girl was so cute that Llewelyn couldn’t help but smile. How did Tristan usually treat women? Suddenly curious, Llewelyn's playfulness kicked in.



“Where were you planning to go alone? You should have called for an escort.”



At Tristan's harsh words, Llewelyn said mirthfully,



“Sir Jayad, look at this young lady in front of me. Isn’t she truly adorable?”



“Why are you ask… Miss!"



Tristan, who had initially been confused by her question, suddenly cried out. Llewelyn followed Tristan's gaze with a puzzled expression. The young lady who had been standing in front of her just a moment ago had collapsed onto the floor.



“Ergh! Kerrrrgeh!”



Red blood was pouring from her nose and mouth. Tristan tried to support her, but the girl was now having seizures and shaking uncontrollably. Her body began to thrash around wildly, and then, abruptly, she stopped struggling.



“Don't touch her! There’s a chance she’s been poisoned!”, shouted Tristan.



At last, the people who had been reveling in the merriment of the banquet began to look toward the entrance, where they were standing.



Llewelyn, in a daze, looked at the young lady who had collapsed before her. Now, she could see that the woman, whose appearance she hadn’t really tried to register at first, had a pale face, which contrasted with the dark circles under her eyes. Eyes that had been twinkling with excitement until a few minutes ago, but were now rolled back, while blood was coming out of her small lips.



"If she’s been poisoned, maybe we could…”, ventured Llewelyn with a trembling voice.





“She has stopped moving. There’s nothing to be done, the lady is already dead.”, confirmed Tristan.



***


Merry Christmas and Happy New Year !!

Chapter end