Harem System In A fantasy World

"May I have this dance?"

A soft melody played from a lyre somewhere in the background, and several pairs were already dancing beneath the gentle glow of the moon and the mana-powered lamps scattered around the open courtyard.

Zenovia looked at Elion for a long moment without taking his hand.

Only she knew what was going through her mind.

As insufferable as the bastard could be, he certainly possessed a particular charm. It was not merely his godly handsome features that had been drawing the eyes of almost every noblewoman in attendance throughout the night.

No.

It was his actions as well.

He had made his intentions of pursuing her known from the very first time they met on the battlefield, but despite his shameless teasing, he had never once pushed his luck too far. As infuriating as he could be, he respected her boundaries.

That was a trait most men lacked.

Zenovia harrumphed lightly before finally placing her hand in his.

"This does not mean I like you or anything," she said, closing her eyes and turning her face slightly to the side. "It is only a dance, all right?"

Her hand slipped into Elion’s grip.

’Yeah, right,’ Elion thought inwardly.

Outwardly, however, he remained every bit the gentleman that he was.

"Of course, my lady."

He gently pulled her toward the dance floor.

Aeron watched them leave with a wry smile.

’And just like that, I have become the third wheel.’

Honestly, he would never have expected Zenovia to fall into Elion’s clutches so easily.

Perhaps she had not realised it herself yet, but from Aeron’s perspective, she seemed far livelier whenever Elion was around. When it was only the two of them, she remained quiet and reserved.

Even with Maya, things had not been much different.

Since Maya and Zenovia had been the only two women among the group of heroes, they naturally spent a fair amount of time together, but Aeron would not have described them as close friends. There had always been a faint barrier between them, one that Zenovia never fully lowered.

At one point, she had even mentioned that Maya occasionally behaved suspiciously.

Aeron had dismissed her concerns at the time. There had been no concrete evidence, only Zenovia’s instincts.

In the end, she had been right.

Zenovia stood out among the crowd. She was one of only a handful of beastmen and beastwomen attending the gathering, and Elion was far too conspicuous to ever go unnoticed.

The moment they stepped onto the dance floor together, the pair immediately drew the attention of many nearby guests.

Mostly the women.

Elion stopped near the centre of the courtyard and turned to face her. He held her right hand gently in his left and rested his other hand against her waist.

Zenovia placed her free hand on his shoulder.

Then, beneath the glow of the moon and the quiet rhythm of the lyre, the dance began. At first, their movements were a little stiff.

Zenovia was clearly not used to this kind of thing. Her posture was almost too perfect, her shoulders slightly tense beneath Elion’s hand, and every step she took felt measured, as though she was treating the dance like another battlefield where a single mistake might be used against her later.

Elion noticed almost immediately.

"You know," he said quietly, guiding her through a slow turn, "you do not have to look like you are preparing to stab someone."

Zenovia’s beautiful golden eyes narrowed slightly, "I do not look like that."

"You are analysing the floor, counting the steps, and keeping your centre of gravity low enough to react if someone attacks."

Zenovia was silent for a moment, and then she looked away. "It’s just instinct."

Elion smiled, "That explains a lot."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing bad," he replied lightly. "You are simply a very serious woman."

Zenovia scoffed, "And you are not serious enough."

"That is also true."

The slow and pleasant music continued around them, the soft sound of the lyre sounding beneath the moonlight while the voices and laughter from the surrounding celebration blended together into a distant murmur.

Elion kept his movements calm and easy, gently adjusting their rhythm until Zenovia no longer had to think about every step. She resisted at first, perhaps out of pride, but after a while, she allowed him to guide her through the dance, and over time, her movements became more natural.

The stiffness in her posture slowly disappeared.

"You have done this before," she said after a while.

Elion raised a brow.

"Dance?"

"Yes."

"A few times."

"With the princess?"

"Maybe," A smile slowly appeared on Elion’s face, "You know, you sound like a jealous mistress if you say it like that."

"Shut up, I was merely asking a question."

"And I answered it, no?"

"You did not answer anything."

Elion chuckled, "Yes. I have danced before." He was lying; he had never danced before. So how was he proficient enough to guide an amateur like Zenovia through a dance, you might ask?

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"But that is not what you are asking, is it? You are asking if I danced with the princess last time I was here."

Elion grinned, "You could have simply asked that from the beginning."

Zenovia’s ears twitched faintly, "I do not care enough to ask."

"Of course not."

Elion guided her into another turn. Her dress shifted elegantly with the movement, flowing lightly around her legs before settling once again as she returned to him.

His hand found her waist; he held onto it far more intimately than before. Zenovia’s gaze sharpened for a moment, but she did not pull away.

Elion smiled lightly.

"For someone who does not care, you seem rather interested."

"I am only making conversation."

"Then yes," Elion said. "I have danced with Isla."

Zenovia went quiet.

Elion watched her carefully.

There was no dramatic reaction or any obvious irritation, but her tail moved once behind her in a short, annoyed flick.

Elion almost laughed, but he held it in. However, Zenovia noticed the smug look on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You look like you are about to laugh."

"I would never."

"You are terrible at lying."

"So I have been told."

Her eyes narrowed again dangerously, "You find this amusing?"

"A little."

Zenovia scoffed, but the corner of her lips curved faintly despite herself.

From the edge of the courtyard, Aeron watched the exchange while slowly chewing on a piece of meat he had taken from Elion’s abandoned plate.

He shook his head.

"This is painful to watch," he muttered quietly.

A nobleman standing nearby looked toward him with a raised brow.

"What is?"

Aeron pointed lightly toward the dance floor.

"That."

The nobleman followed his gaze.

Elion and Zenovia moved through the crowd beneath the soft moonlight, both of them drawing more attention than they seemed to realise. Elion carried himself with his usual relaxed confidence, while Zenovia looked striking in her own way.

The nobleman looked back toward Aeron, "They appear to be having a pleasant evening."

"That is the problem," Aeron said.

The nobleman blinked.

Aeron sighed deeply, "Never mind."

He took another bite of steak. Back on the dance floor, Elion guided Zenovia closer as the music slowed slightly.

"You are getting better," he said.

"I was never bad."

"You nearly stepped on my foot twice."

Zenovia glared at him, "That did not happen."

"It did."

"You are imagining things."

"My poor boots would disagree."

Zenovia’s tail flicked again as Elion smiled wider.

Her expression darkened faintly, "You are enjoying this a bit too much."

"I am enjoying myself exactly the right amount."

"You are insufferable."

"And yet you are still dancing with me."

Zenovia opened her mouth, but she ended up closing it again.

Elion leaned slightly closer, "Perhaps you are enjoying yourself too."

Her eyes narrowed, "Do not push your luck."

"I would never."

For a moment, they simply continued moving with the music as the surrounding noise became distant.

Zenovia’s gaze drifted away from him and toward the moonlit courtyard, where nobles, soldiers, Mages, and officers moved freely beneath the glowing lamps. Some were laughing, drinking, or dancing.

Others had simply gathered in small circles, speaking quietly while enjoying the rare feeling of peace after years of war. It was almost like the war never happened.

"It is strange," she said softly.

Elion looked toward her, "What is?"

"This." She glanced around the courtyard, "The celebration, the music, people laughing as if nothing happened."

Elion’s expression softened slightly. "A lot happened."

Her voice grew quieter, "A week ago, we were still fighting for our lives. People were dying everywhere, and now everyone is dancing."

Elion watched her carefully. Not everyone who went into that forest with them had made it back. Elion understood that feeling well enough.

"It feels wrong," Zenovia said quietly.

"Maybe," he said. "But I think that is exactly why people need moments like this."

Zenovia looked at him as he continued, "If all anyone did was mourn, then the war would keep winning even after it ended. They survived, so they dance for the people who did not."

Zenovia said nothing to that; he was right, she knew he was, but perhaps this had never been about the people here.

"You can sound surprisingly sensible when you want to," she said with a smile.

Elion raised a brow, "Only surprisingly?"

Zenovia’s lips curved faintly, "You should appreciate the compliment."

"I suppose I will accept it."

The music gradually came to an end.

Around them, the other dancers slowed to a stop before separating from their partners. Some bowed politely. Others smiled and began speaking quietly.

Elion and Zenovia remained where they were for a moment longer.

His hand was still around her waist, and her hand remained on his shoulder.

Neither of them moved immediately.

Then Zenovia seemed to realise it.

Zenovia’s eyes narrowed slightly. "The dance is over."

Elion smiled, "I noticed."

"Then why is your hand still on my waist?"

"I was wondering the same thing about yours."

Zenovia looked down briefly at the hand resting on his shoulder, and she pulled away quickly.

Elion chuckled.

Her long cat ears twitched, "Do not laugh."

"I did not even say anything."

She turned away and began walking back toward Aeron, and Elion followed with an easy smile.

When they reached the table, Aeron looked between them while finishing the last piece of Elion’s steak, and Zenovia sat down.

Elion stared at the empty plate and moved his gaze to Aeron, "You ate my food."

Aeron swallowed calmly, "Well, you were busy."

"That was my steak."

"You abandoned it."

"I put it down for a few minutes."

"That sounds like abandonment."

Elion looked offended.

Zenovia turned her face slightly away, but not quickly enough to hide the faint smile appearing on her lips.

In the end, he had no choice but to let it go. He could get more stake.

"Well," he said lightly, taking the empty seat beside her, "at least the dance was worth the sacrifice."