Chapter 647: A Dance of Grace and Beauty

Prince Daniel Aethelmont raised his right hand, signaling Jemima Dewinter to stop talking.

Jemima closed her mouth.

She took a breath and settled back into her chair, though the irritation on her face hadn’t completely faded.

Daniel paid her no further attention.

His gaze remained on Desmond Derlis, who was still sitting comfortably at the table as if the prince’s presence meant nothing to him.

"Just because your older brother is Lucien Derlis doesn’t mean I can’t make your life miserable, Desmond."

Prince Daniel spoke calmly.

However, the warning behind his words was clear.

His eyes remained fixed on Desmond, waiting to see how he would respond.

Desmond didn’t even look fazed.

He raised his left eyebrow and gave the prince a lazy look.

"A Meister Alchemist like you believes you can threaten me?"

He asked unfazed.

"Come on, Prince Daniel. You, of all people, should know what would happen if we fought in a spar."

Desmond spoke without raising his voice.

Then he stood up, pushing his chair back from the table.

The legs scraped lightly against the floor as he stretched his arms above his head, showing little concern for the tension around him.

He didn’t look like someone who had just challenged the Second Prince of Britannia.

Instead, he seemed bored.

"Also, I’m only saying this to help you. You already know that, whether that shocking article is real or not, you should be more wary of the person Ezra Ashenlocke truly is."

Desmond lowered his arms and glanced towards Daniel.

"Provoking the wrong person could turn all your carefully planned steps towards becoming the next King of this kingdom into nothing. Then you’ll be left wondering where things went wrong."

He placed his right palm on the table as he spoke.

His expression remained relaxed, and his posture showed no sign of fear.

He had delivered his warning, and he didn’t seem interested in arguing over it.

Daniel’s eyes narrowed.

"And what makes you think that maggot is the wrong person to mess with? Are you saying all this because you lost twice to that maggot? Do you think I’m a loser like you? Know your place, Derlis."

The prince delivered the words quickly, pressing each one with enough force to make his displeasure clear.

Desmond stared at him for a moment.

Then he laughed.

"Hahahaha."

The laugh was light, almost careless.

"Obviously, it’s because I lost to him. Also, I only lost once. Our first fight was a draw."

He lifted his hand slightly, as though correcting a minor detail in an otherwise unimportant conversation.

"I’ve given you my warning."

Desmond turned away from the prince and signaled to the ladies sitting close to him.

"Let’s go, ladies. We have the Last Dance Core to prepare for. Bye, guys."

He waved lazily as he began to leave.

The girls rose from their seats.

They lowered their heads politely towards Prince Daniel, Prince Tristin and the rest of the High-Status Young Nobles before following Desmond, their expressions brightening as they caught up with him.

Desmond didn’t look back.

He simply continued walking, leaving the table behind as though the conversation had already slipped from his mind.

For a few moments, the seating area fell silent.

Tristin, Felix, and Basil exchanged uncertain looks.

None of them seemed to know what to say after Desmond’s departure.

The prince’s five aides were just as quiet.

Even Jemima, who had been so eager to rebuke Desmond earlier, had nothing to add.

Daniel remained seated, his expression dark.

Desmond had openly challenged his authority, mocked his ambitions, and walked away without showing the slightest respect.

Worse, he had done so in front of everyone gathered at the table.

The prince’s fingers tightened against the arm of his chair.

Before anyone could break the silence, Gareth Ashenlocke rose from his seat.

"I’ll excuse myself as well. I have the Last Core to prepare for."

He adjusted his clothes and looked towards Felix.

"It’s Page you’re dancing with, right?"

Felix asked.

"Yes."

Gareth replied calmly.

He offered no further explanation.

After giving the others a brief nod, he turned and left the table.

The remaining group watched him go.

Then a loud cheer erupted from the dance floor.

"Woooooahhhh!"

The sudden noise drew everyone’s attention away from the table.

Daniel turned towards the source of the cheering.

His eyes travelled across the couples gathered on the floor until he found the pair attracting the crowd’s attention.

It was Ezra Ashenlocke.

The same young man Daniel had been discussing moments earlier.

Ezra Ashenlocke, you maggot.

Daniel gritted his teeth.

His hands tightened, and his gaze hardened as he watched Ezra dancing with Diane Bergwyn.

How dare you get so close to even my Diane?

The sight only made his hatred grow.

Back on the dance floor...

Ezra had finally recovered from the faint nausea caused by the Duke of Bergwyn’s intrusion into his mind.

The discomfort was gone, and he could once again focus on the music.

Diane stood before him, her right hand in his.

The opening of the dance had already passed, but Ezra showed no sign of panic.

The Golden Matching Order Band continued playing.

The music had settled into its rhythm, and the other couples were already moving across the floor.

Their steps followed the orchestra’s pace, leaving little room for anyone who had fallen behind to catch up.

Ezra moved Diane.

His first shift was smooth.

He guided her into the next step, then adjusted his own position to match the music.

His movements were controlled, with no wasted motion between one step and the next.

Diane followed his lead.

Within moments, their dance began to flow with the music that was already playing.

There was no rush.

No hesitation.

Under normal circumstances, missing the opening piece of a ballroom performance made it difficult for a couple to join the dance properly.

The orchestra would not stop or slow down just because someone had failed to begin on time.

The other dancers had already established their rhythm.

Anyone trying to join them late had to adjust to the music as it was, rather than expect the music to adjust for them.

That was why several guests had assumed Ezra and Diane had lost their chance to dance in this Core.

They had seen the pair standing still while the music began.

Some had already turned their attention towards the Duke of Galehart, his wives, and the other prominent figures on the floor.

The Duchess of Derlis, Vivian, was dancing with her husband.

Other well-known guests had also begun their performances, drawing the eyes of those who wanted to watch them.

For a short while, Ezra and Diane had become less important to the crowd.

Then Ezra moved first.

He shifted his weight onto his left foot and guided Diane into a side step, drawing her away from her original position.

His right hand maintained a steady hold at her waist while his left kept her right hand raised between them.

Diane followed the change.

Her gown swept across the polished floor as she stepped beside him.

Before she could settle into the position, Ezra turned his wrist and guided her into a smooth rotation.

Her light-blue hair drifted across her shoulders, brushing against the fabric of her gown as she turned.

He caught her movement at the right moment and drew her back towards him.

Their steps fell into the music.

Ezra moved to the side, leading Diane through another pair of steps before changing direction. Rather than forcing her to follow a sudden turn, he gave her a slight pull through their joined hands, allowing her to feel where he intended to lead her.

She adjusted her footing and moved with him.

The orchestra had already passed the opening piece, yet Ezra showed no sign of struggling to catch up.

He guided Diane through three connected shifts.

First, he led her to the left.

Then he turned his body and brought her across his front, using the change in their positions to redirect her into the next step.

Finally, he drew her back into their original rhythm.

Three shifts.

That was all it took.

They were dancing in time with the music.

The guests who had assumed the pair had missed their chance began turning back towards them.

Ezra hadn’t asked the orchestra to slow down, nor had he tried to force Diane through the steps at an uncomfortable pace.

He had simply adjusted their movements to match the rhythm already playing.

As the melody rose, Ezra raised their joined hands and guided Diane beneath his arm.

She turned once, then continued into a second rotation as he stepped around her.

Her gown flared slightly with the movement, and the ends of her light-blue hair swept through the air.

Ezra lowered their hands as she completed the turn, catching her right hand again before she could drift away from their position.

He pulled her towards him.

Diane took a small step forward, and Ezra shifted his footing to receive her.

His left hand guided her hand into place while his right supported her waist.

For a moment, their movements slowed, creating a brief pause in the flow of the dance.

Then he leaned her backwards.

Diane’s upper body tilted away from him, her hair falling behind her shoulders.

Ezra kept his stance firm and his arm steady, supporting her weight without allowing the movement to become abrupt.

Before the music could move into its next phrase, he brought her upright.

Diane returned to her footing with a smooth step.

Ezra turned with her, leading them into a series of flowing movements that carried them across a small section of the dance floor.

She no longer needed to guess what he intended to do.

Whenever Ezra changed direction, his hand gave her the signal.

Whenever he shifted his weight, she could follow the movement through their joined hands and the steady guidance at her waist.

Her steps became more natural as she settled into his lead.

For Diane, the sensation was so unfamiliar.

She could feel the rhythm beneath her feet, the slight changes in pressure whenever Ezra guided her, and the way their movements connected without either of them needing to speak.

Is this how they all felt?

She watched Ezra as he led her into another turn.

She had always considered dancing a waste of time.

Her dance instructors had tried to teach her the proper steps, but she would often fall asleep halfway through their lessons.

Even when she danced with her mother, she could barely remain awake.

Now, she was moving across the floor without feeling the need to close her eyes.

Perhaps Ezra was simply a better dancer than the others.

Perhaps she had never given dancing a proper chance.

Diane couldn’t tell, and she didn’t bother trying to find an answer.

She followed his next step instead.

The Golden Matching Order Band’s music entered its final piece.

Across the floor, the couples began changing their pace.

Some added quicker steps, while others prepared for their final turns.

The crowd’s attention sharpened as the music rose towards its conclusion.

Ezra adjusted his footing.

He guided Diane into a wide circular turn, starting with a measured pace before gradually increasing their speed.

He moved around her in the opposite direction, keeping their hands connected as their positions changed.

Diane’s gown spread around her legs, and her hair streamed behind her as the turn carried her across the floor.

Ezra shortened his steps to control their rotation.

Then he slowed her.

Rather than allowing the turn to end abruptly, he guided Diane through a smaller circle, bringing her closer while keeping their movements in time with the music.

He released the pressure at her waist just enough to change their position, then held her index finger between his own as he turned gently around her.

Their joined hands traced a small arc through the air.

Diane followed the circle, turning with him.

Ezra stepped around her, then changed direction and guided her back towards him.

Their movements became tighter and more controlled as the final notes approached.

The crowd watched in anticipation.

Ezra raised their joined hands one last time and guided Diane through a final turn.

As she came around, he stepped forward to meet her, caught her right hand securely, and placed his other hand at her waist.

The final piece struck.

Ezra drew Diane towards him and guided her into a backward lean.

She tilted smoothly, her upper body lowering as her gown fell in soft folds towards the floor.

Ezra planted his feet to hold their balance, keeping her supported throughout the movement.

Diane looked up at him.

Ezra looked down at her.

Their eyes met as the final note rang through the Grand Royal Hall.

The Second Dance Core came to an end.