The idea of dancing did seem enticing, all things considered. Before she could fully agree, a bitter scent mixed with cologne filled her nostrils.
Dark eyes seemed to devour her as a man grinned devilishly, bowing and extending his hand for a dance. He was handsome, with a strong nose and jawline, medium dark hair that was neatly styled and tied halfway up.
Long lashes framed his eyes, and his well-fitted clothing left no room for critique. Tall and lean, he stood only a few inches shorter than Shin.
For the first time, irritation bubbled from Shin, surprising Laverna. 'If a man would like to dance with a lady, he must ask either the matron or the man escorting her; otherwise, it's rude... Beware these men, my love, for they have sour hearts.'
A dashing, debonair figure approached with practiced confidence, clearly thinking he had a chance at winning her attention. Perhaps even stealing her away from Shin.
He stopped before her, extended his left hand with a courteous bow, and asked, "May I have this dance, my lady?"
Laverna remained close to Shin, clinging to him. Shin noticed the debonair man didn't acknowledge his presence at all—an insult.
Though he kept smiling, Laverna could feel his displeasure through the Slave Crest. While outwardly calm, inwardly he bristled at the slight.
Still, he waited for her answer, his gaze steady. Her father's voice echoed in her mind.
'Ah yes, they might be sour, but you must carry yourself with grace. Never let others see you falter.'
Her mother's sweet voice followed.
'Politely decline and move on. And if they cause a fuss... then make a scene.'
Planting the most adorable smile on her lips, her eyes sparkled as she placed a hand on Shin's chest, fingers splayed.
"I'm afraid my first dance is already spoken for, but I appreciate the offer. A handsome man like yourself can surely find someone unaccompanied to dance with."
She fluttered her eyelashes as she'd seen Magdalene and Abigail do when playing innocent. The voice that left her lips horrified her internally. It was euphoric, like liquid sugar, addicting to any who heard.
Shin continued to smile gently, though his pride and sense of duty were bruised. To be ignored by someone like this man was a direct challenge, not just as Laverna's escort, but as a man.
He kept his posture strong and dignified, refusing to show weakness. Peace was preferable to chaos.
Yet, Laverna's response soothed him. Her hand on his chest, the way she clung to him even tighter—it was a quiet but effective rejection.
Don Alfonso's aura shifted with visible agitation, barely contained. "You dare reject Don Alfonso Realto?! The Gilded Dragon of the—"
Shin raised a hand with a smile, cutting him off. "Sorry, kind sir. But my wife's dances have already been booked. So if you'll excuse us..."
He bowed his head slightly and turned to Laverna with a soft smile. "Let us dance, my love."
Laverna blinked, caught off guard by his words. A warm flush rose to her cheeks as she looked at him with wide eyes.
Then, almost shyly, she nodded. "Alright... my husband," she murmured, the words escaping with a surprising tenderness.
There was a softness in her expression that Shin had never seen before. She clung to him as he led her to the dance floor, laughter bubbling out of her as he pulled her close and began to guide her.
He chuckled again, leading her into a dance that blended the Waltz and Salsa, a popular mix among the crowd. As they moved, he coached her, counting softly.
"One-two-three, one-two-three," keeping a steady rhythm until she caught on. Soon, she no longer needed the count.
The music and her instincts took over. Then, something strange washed over her—a deeply buried memory surfacing.
Her movements became precise, as if something unknown guided her. She began to anticipate Shin's steps before he made them.
'Is this the crest?' No... it was something else. Images of her father practicing with her flickered through her mind.
She blinked a few times, nearly losing her balance. It was magical. Two Easterners dancing a Western dance with elegance and fluidity, as if they were speaking through movement.
The crowd watched in awe, the spotlight metaphorically shining on them. Shin noticed something was off.
Calling her his wife had thrown her off balance, and while it was unexpected, he made it work. She wobbled, nearly falling, but he caught her in a graceful dip.
The crowd clapped, impressed. Shin had seamlessly turned a misstep into a flourish.
'"Thank you", she thought through the crest—her first willing communication through the bond—before closing it again. Maybe the night wouldn't be so bad.
One could hope. He helped her back up as the music slowed into a gentle waltz.
They rocked back and forth, eyes locked. It was a romantic moment for them and for the other couples sharing the floor, as if fate itself had orchestrated it—a tender interlude neither of them realized was romantic at all.
"Sorry for calling you 'my wife.' I know it might've irritated you, but I had to protect you from that man," Shin said with a chuckle, keeping his steps smooth.
"Besides, he insulted both of us. You saved me by turning him down. Nicely done, by the way."
She blinked, her blush fading into confusion. Shaking her head slightly, she whispered so no one else could hear.
"No, that was a good call. He was getting rather vexed, and your move helped defuse things. Some men don't like being told 'no'."
Her tone darkened briefly. "And Shin, you didn't irritate me. I slipped up because I've been having flashbacks… of my life before enslavement. Threw me for a loop, to be honest."
She hesitated, then smiled wistfully. "My dad used to teach me to dance when I was little. They wanted me educated in the ways of..."
She rolled her eyes, "...a lady. That was important to them for some reason."
She chuckled softly as they continued moving in rhythm. "My father wanted me to be polite. My mother... was feistier."
Shin raised an eyebrow, teasing gently, "So what happened? Did you inherit both? Or did you just pick the 'feisty' and forget the rest?"
Laverna giggled—a genuine, feminine sound that surprised even her. Shin had never heard her laugh like that.
"Maybe I just skipped the boring parts and focused on survival. Etiquette wasn't exactly useful when you're scrubbing chamber pots."
He grinned. "And yet here you are, dancing with the elegance of a noblewoman. Yuri would be proud."
She rolled her eyes again, but the corners of her lips curled with affection. "Don't give her that satisfaction. She made me balance books on my head while sipping tea. I nearly drowned."
"The true mark of nobility," Shin whispered dramatically. "Death by etiquette."
That made her laugh again, a softer sound this time, one she didn't suppress. Shin watched her with quiet awe, realizing this was the first time she had truly opened up to him willingly.
It was a small thing—a conversation, a laugh—but to him, it felt monumental. Baby steps, he thought.
Shin felt something shift within him. Laverna had endured so much. Once a slave, now she danced among nobles.
From outcast to someone sharing the floor with the elite. It had to be overwhelming.
He didn't want her to feel pressured. So he would guide her—not just as a partner, but to help her grow into the lady her parents once dreamed she'd become.
Their bond deepens, but so does the attention it draws.