* * *

At a ball, dance time wasn’t just about dancing.

It was a socially sanctioned opportunity for marriageable men and women—or in this case, Alphas and Omegas—to flirt openly under the pretense of formality.

Eyes darted around the ballroom all night as people sought potential partners, and dancing was the ultimate excuse to engage in conversation or hold hands, however briefly.

In this context, inviting someone to dance was tantamount to a public declaration of interest.

Accepting the invitation was a tacit acknowledgment of mutual affection.

Naturally, all eyes in the ballroom would be fixed on the dancing couple, watching their every move like an enthralled audience with popcorn in hand.

In other words, this was the moment when Remy would publicly announce, “I can’t dance!” for everyone to see.

“Me? Your Highness, with me?”

“You’re an Omega now, aren’t you?”

“Well… yes, technically.”

“Then it’s not unusual for an Alpha to ask an Omega to dance.”

“Th-that’s true, but…”

“Good. Don’t refuse. Dance with me.”

“Ah, um, I—uh, well…”

Before Remy could come up with a convincing excuse, Hayward firmly clasped his hands.

“Y-Your Highness?!”

Of course, the timing was impeccable.

Just as Remy’s mind raced for a way out, the orchestra finished their waltz and smoothly transitioned into a new melody.

As if on cue, the music for their dance began.

Now, to summarize Remy’s predicament: he couldn’t dance to save his life.

He’d tried to learn in secret with Ashton in a private garden, but he’d been too distracted by his racing heart to focus.

And now, of all people, he was dragged onto the dance floor by Prince Hayward, with every eye in the ballroom watching their every move.

If he botched this, his social reputation would be in tatters.

‘A nobleman of distinguished lineage, unable to dance properly at a ball? Scandalous!’

“Damn it. I should’ve practiced properly with Ashton earlier. What do I do? Maybe I can claim post-manifestation side effects and say I forgot? Ugh, this is driving me crazy. Why can’t I faint conveniently now, like I usually do?”

Ever since his Omega manifestation, fainting had been almost second nature.

Yet now, when he desperately needed to escape, his body remained infuriatingly functional.

“Remy.”

“Yes?!”

“The music’s started.”

“Ah, y-yes… Wait, no! I mean—uh…”

Before Remy could stammer out another protest, Hayward began leading him into the steps.

Panicked, Remy tried to recall what Ashton had taught him.

‘Thump-thump-thud. Thump-da-thud. No, wait—this isn’t right. Isn’t this some folk rhythm? Why is that coming to mind now?!’

He regretted every music class he’d half-heartedly attended.

Worse, he regretted not taking Ashton’s lessons more seriously.

But regrets were futile—there was no turning back.

Remy’s steps were clumsy at best, chaotic at worst.

He moved left when others moved right, right when they moved left, an unpredictable force of awkwardness.

It didn’t take long for Hayward’s expression to shift from calm to bemused.

But before the prince could even voice his curiosity, disaster struck.

“Ahck!”

Remy stepped squarely on Hayward’s foot.

“Nooo!”

An internal scream echoed through Remy’s soul.

As if his atrocious dancing wasn’t humiliating enough, he’d just committed the cardinal sin—stepping on the prince’s foot.

This would surely become the talk of the town.

“Did you see that?”

“Isn’t that Omega dancing with the prince? He just stepped on his foot!”

“Wait, isn’t that Remy? Remy stepped on the prince’s foot?”

The ballroom buzzed with murmurs.

Despite the orchestra’s elegant performance, the gossip was louder, relentless.

Already humiliated once tonight, Remy felt the pressure of everyone’s stares intensify.

“I’m doomed. Everyone’s going to think I’m a complete mess now…”

He could almost hear the whispers spreading: ‘A noble Omega, raised with private tutors, yet he can’t even dance?’

“Look at me, Remy.”

Hayward’s voice pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts.

Remy blinked up at the prince, wide-eyed like a startled rabbit.

“On the second beat, move left.”

“W-what?”

“I’ll guide you. Just focus on your steps.”

“Your Highness…”

“Now. Left.”

Following Hayward’s lead, Remy shifted left in time with the music.

Slowly, he let the prince guide his upper body, moving in sync with Hayward’s steady rhythm.

“I’m going to let go for a moment. Stay in place.”

When Hayward released him, Remy froze.

The prince performed a graceful turn around him, rejoining his position seamlessly.

“Now it’s your turn.”

Following suit, Remy mirrored Hayward’s steps.

Observing the nearby Omega couples out of the corner of his eye, he managed to mimic their movements and stay aligned with the group.

“Now, four beats with your partner.”

When Remy returned to his spot, Hayward took his right hand, lifted it, and passed him smoothly to the Alpha standing next to them.

For the next four beats, Remy danced with the new partner, gradually finding his rhythm.

“Oh…”

As he continued dancing, the whispers faded.

Hayward’s intervention had diverted attention away from Remy’s earlier missteps.

Remy’s gaze naturally returned to Hayward.

The prince’s golden eyes, unique to the royal family, gleamed with calm assurance.

Remy felt himself drawn in, a strange warmth spreading through his chest.

Was this it?

Was this what it meant for an Omega to stand before an Alpha?

“You did well, Remy.”

Hayward’s soft words echoed in his ears, sending a flush of heat coursing through him.

And just as the heat reached its peak, Hayward’s whisper pierced deep into Remy’s heart.

Thump, thump. Listening to his racing heartbeat, Remy’s face flushed a deep red.

This wasn’t supposed to happen…

This wasn’t why he had come to the ballroom.

“Th-Thank you, Your Highness.”

Remy forced himself to offer a polite bow, though it took everything in him to do so.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention for a moment?”

A voice rang out, like a savior sent to rescue him. It was none other than the Count of Aylesford.

Remy quickly assessed the situation.

There could be only one reason for the Count to command everyone’s attention from the second floor: the approach of midnight and the announcement of his only son’s birthday.

As expected, the Count’s words confirmed his thoughts.

“Soon, it will be my one and only son Allen’s birthday. I am certain all of you have gathered here to celebrate this joyous occasion. Allow me to present him to you. Allen, where are you?”

From within the crowd, a bashful Allen timidly raised his hand.

“Father, I’m here.”

“Ah, Allen! Don’t you think you should greet our esteemed guests who have come to celebrate your special day? Come up here, son.”

“Yes, Father.”

Allen excused himself from his companions and made his way toward the stairs.

Watching him ascend, Remy felt his pulse quicken.

He couldn’t afford to hesitate.

He had to act before Allen descended the central staircase after blowing out the candles and cutting the cake.

“Allen, my precious son. Come, come.”

The Count embraced his son warmly upon his arrival on the second floor, showcasing their touching familial bond.

While the guests were enthralled by this display, Remy quietly moved toward the side staircase, unnoticed.

---

“Ladies and gentlemen, let us raise our glasses in a toast to Allen’s health and happiness. Happy birthday, my son! May you always live in joy!”

With the Count’s blessing, the guests raised their glasses high.

United in their admiration, they celebrated the birthday of the angelic Omega, Allen.

‘The central staircase is too obvious. Side stairs it is.’

Taking advantage of the crowd’s distraction, Remy swiftly ascended to the second floor.

He grabbed the bouquet he had prepared earlier and glanced toward the center.

Just in time, Allen and the Count had finished extinguishing the candles on the grand three-tier cake.

As the last candle was snuffed out, applause thundered through the hall.

Allen, standing above the crowd, looked genuinely happy.

Seeing his friend’s radiant expression only deepened Remy’s internal conflict.

‘How can I push someone so happy down the stairs? Being a villain is harder than I thought. It’s not something just anyone can do.’

With the cake cutting complete, Allen and the Count moved toward the central staircase.

Remy, timing his approach, made his way there as well, doing his best to appear natural while preparing for the moment.

“Remy?”

Allen’s eyes widened in surprise as he reached the top of the stairs, spotting his childhood friend.

“Allen. Happy birthday.”

Allen’s gaze fell on the enormous bouquet of vibrant flowers.

* * *