* * *
As they stepped onto the dance floor, Sylvian’s eyes shone.
“This time, I won’t make a mistake.”
While Zeroth had been absent, Sylvian had observed the dancers and reviewed the steps in his mind.
Thanks to Whisen, his tendency to stumble had greatly improved.
By dancing with him, Sylvian had learned to follow the rhythm of the music and his partner’s lead.
The other knights had also given him various tips over the past two days.
“I’ll look forward to it.”
As Zeroth’s hand pulled him in tightly, Sylvian rested his palm gently against his chest.
“This is the first time I’ve seen the duke dance with such a soft expression.”
“It must be because I am quite fond of my duchess. Though I do wonder how you and the duke met, given your delicate health.”
As the music began, all eyes turned to the couple.
The duchess, who was said to be frail, moved gracefully, perfectly following the duke’s lead without a single misstep.
Though small and slender, his refined gestures and elegant gaze made him stand out even among the other dancers.
Watching this, the nobles reevaluated their assumptions—Duke Graham had not entered a meaningless marriage.
“You’ve improved a lot.”
“I received a lot of help from the knights.”
Though Zeroth had been his primary teacher, he hadn’t expected Sylvian’s dancing to improve this quickly. Pleased, Zeroth swept across the floor with him.
“I should reward them. Shall we dance two more songs and then return home?”
“Aren’t you supposed to dance with others as well?”
“It’s your first ball. There’s no need to bother with them.”
He intended to monopolize all of Sylvian’s first experiences.
Dancing with others wasn’t a major issue.
For noblewomen, socializing was an essential skill—building connections and uncovering secrets whispered behind closed doors.
But Zeroth didn’t need to rely on his wife for that.
Any rumors worth hearing would reach him through his own network long before they spread among the nobility.
“They will understand. From now on, only dance with those I approve of.”
He would make sure to select suitable partners for Sylvian.
His knights wouldn’t dare lay a hand on the duchess, so he would ensure only the most mild-mannered and trustworthy nobles were chosen.
Now that Sylvian had taken his first steps into high society, completely hiding him away was no longer an option.
“Duchess, may I have this dance?”
After two dances with Zeroth, Sylvian had stepped away for a moment to catch his breath when a white-gloved hand suddenly appeared before him.
“I must decline. My wife is unwell, and we will be leaving soon.”
“Dancing with me would be beneficial to you.”
Zeroth’s expression darkened as he looked at the perfectly poised, elegant hand extended toward Sylvian.
Karl Rooster—again.
What the hell is this bastard up to?
He was not the type to act without personal gain.
So far, he had never shown the slightest interest in marriage, yet now he was focused on Sylvian?
Even Sylvian seemed confused, blinking his green eyes in puzzlement.
“I will support your efforts to freeze tax rates.”
At the quietly whispered words, Zeroth scowled but reluctantly nodded.
Of course, this bastard wouldn’t act for free.
“My lady, will you be alright?”
At Zeroth’s worried gaze, Sylvian offered a composed smile and took Karl’s hand.
The marquis respectfully escorted him onto the dance floor.
“Are you sure you’re not too tired?”
“I’m fine! I can do this.”
Karl’s violet eyes deepened as he watched Sylvian’s green eyes sparkle with excitement at being invited to dance.
“You have a graceful form.”
“I learned a lot at the duke’s estate.”
Karl’s movements were more flamboyant than Zeroth’s.
While Zeroth also moved with fluid grace, the marquis carried himself with a suppleness and elegance akin to the illustrations in a dance manual.
“The duke allowing us to dance is a sign of his affection.”
“Affection?”
“Yes. Allowing his wife to dance with another man at a party is a demonstration of trust.”
At the unfamiliar explanation, the green eyes widened slightly.
The hand resting on Sylvian’s shoulder was so light that he could tell just how frail the duchess’s body was.
“So Zeroth trusts the Marquis of Rooster.”
“Don’t be so formal. Call me Karl.”
“But we only just met today.”
At the subtle suggestion to use his name, Sylvian tilted his head.
Are you falling for me?
In the original story, Karl had married a rather ordinary female omega.
This was probably just kindness because Sylvian, as the duchess, was incapable of properly handling himself.
But still, something about it felt suspicious.
Sylvian hesitated, his expression betraying his apprehension, and cautiously refused.
“That’s a little too much. We only just met.”
“That’s a bit disappointing. I only wish to maintain a good relationship with the Duke of Graham.”
Karl met Sylvian’s gaze as if to prove his sincerity, his expression devoid of ulterior motives.
Zeroth’s warning lingered in the back of Sylvian’s mind, but if Karl was as decent a person as he was in the original story, he could be useful.
“…Then, K-Karl?”
“Yes, Duchess.”
When Sylvian spoke his name, Karl’s lips curled into a satisfied smile.
“Thank you. Next time, please visit my estate.”
As they finished the dance and exchanged farewells, Karl playfully winked.
Sylvian quickly distanced himself and hurried over to Zeroth.
“Let’s go back now.”
“Are you tired?”
“Yes.”
Hearing Sylvian’s response, Zeroth left the party without hesitation.
The moment they stepped outside, he lifted Sylvian into his arms.
“I-I can walk.”
“Your pace is too slow. I can’t tolerate those vulgar creatures eyeing you.”
Realizing it was pointless to argue, Sylvian clung tightly to Zeroth’s neck.
Looking back, he noticed Karl watching them from the entrance of the ballroom.
Sylvian discreetly sent him a small nod.
Even when Yuri had appeared in the past, Karl had never taken any special actions.
He only helped when asked but had never made the first move like this.
Remembering Karl’s behavior from the original story, Sylvian couldn’t help but wonder—why had Karl acted first this time?
“Did the Marquis Rooster leave an impression on you?”
“He seemed kind.”
Sylvian kept his answer brief.
That was all he could say for now—he knew nothing else about Karl.
Their encounter had been brief, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Karl was being unusually kind to him.
Should he consider this a success, or had a new obstacle appeared?
The only way to find out was to grow closer to Karl and uncover his true intentions.
Nestled comfortably in Zeroth’s arms, Sylvian returned to the estate.
“Sylvian?”
“Hm?”
Seated in the drawing room, Sylvian was deep in thought, replaying the words he had heard from Countess Holt.
Penny called out in a worried tone.
“If you’re tired, why not return to your chambers?”
“No, I have things to do. I’ll sit here a little longer.”
Noticing Sylvian’s serious expression as he stared intently at the stationary in front of him, the maids exchanged glances.
“Then… would you like to lie down on the sofa while you think?”
What kind of suggestion is that?
Caught off guard by their concerned gazes, Sylvian blinked in confusion before shaking his head.
“You don’t have to rush to send thank-you letters. It’s fine to take two or three days after a party.”
“Really?! That’s allowed?!”
Sylvian, still clutching the stationery, hesitated.
Unable to watch any longer, Elgana chuckled and offered him an escape route.
“Of course. You should rest for today.”
Sylvian’s eyes widened at her words. His mind had already been spinning.
“…Then, I guess lying down for a bit wouldn’t hurt?”
“Of course. Everyone will be happy just to receive a letter from you.”
With practiced ease, Elgana snatched the stationery from Sylvian’s grasp.
Watching him agonize over letters all morning had been pitiful.
“Just think back to the party yesterday. Then, when you recall who you’re most grateful for, you can write to them.”
As Elgana gently eased him down, Penny covered him with a blanket as if she had been waiting for this moment.
“I—I’m not trying to sleep!”
“Just close your eyes and think comfortably.”
Elgana softly stroked his hair.
Embarrassed by the affectionate touch, Sylvian clutched the blanket tightly and shut his eyes.
Soon, the soft sound of his even breathing filled the room.
The maids quietly exited, careful not to wake him.
‘I swear, they treat me like a child.’
Hearing the door close, Sylvian slowly opened his eyes and scanned the room.
Once he confirmed he was alone, he adjusted his position to get more comfortable.
Where did things go wrong?
Why is Yuri graduating two years later than expected?
* * *
