Chapter 648: Leave Me Alone

Clap!

Clap!

Clap!

Applause filled the Grand Royal Hall.

The sound spread beneath the chandeliers as guests rose from their seats to applaud the couples who had taken part in the Second Dance Core.

Some clapped with smiles on their faces, while others exchanged remarks about the performances they had just witnessed.

Yet, among all the couples who had danced, one pair received more attention than the rest.

Ezra Ashenlocke and Lady Diane Bergwyn.

Even a few people who had participated in the Dance Core joined the applause, pleased by what they had witnessed.

Young Lord Veda Ashenlocke smiled as she clapped for her brother.

Tracy Ashforge stood beside him, applauding as well, while Nickolas Balor and Celestina Whitmore joined in from their seats.

The Second Duchess of Bergwyn was among the most pleased.

Diane’s mother clapped enthusiastically, her eyes fixed on her daughter.

She had finally seen Diane complete her first dance, and the sight seemed to have made her evening.

Beside her, the Duke of Bergwyn watched Ezra for a moment.

His expression remained quiet.

He didn’t even offer any obvious praise, nor did he approach the young Alchemist.

Instead, he turned towards his wife, took her hand, and calmly led her away from the dance floor.

The applause continued as the couples began leaving their positions.

Ezra, however, had another matter to attend to.

"Ez, I’m tired."

Diane spoke lightly.

She stood beside him with her eyelids already drooping.

Her head tilted slightly, and she looked as though she might fall asleep before they even left the dance floor.

Ezra glanced at her dryly, but he wasn’t surprised.

He had expected something like this after knowing how easily Diane could fall asleep, even in the middle of a conversation.

Her first dance had lasted long enough, and now that it was over, she seemed ready to return to her usual routine.

Without a second thought, Ezra bent down and lifted her into his arms.

Diane offered no resistance.

She barely reacted to being carried, settling against him as though this were the most ordinary thing in the world.

Ezra turned away from the dance floor and began walking towards the seating area where Vera was waiting.

Several guests noticed him carrying Diane.

Their conversations quieted for a moment, and a few people leaned towards their companions to whisper about the sight.

Others watched him walk past, their eyes following the sleeping-looking girl in his arms.

Ezra paid none of them any attention.

He continued towards the table.

"Player."

Vera spoke as soon as he approached.

She turned her face away from him, looking towards another part of the hall.

Her legs were crossed, and she moved one of them back and forth with a lazy rhythm.

The word had been delivered without any particular emotion.

Ezra didn’t respond.

He carefully lowered Diane onto the chair beside Vera, making sure she was settled before letting go.

The moment Diane’s body touched the seat, she began preparing for sleep.

With her eyes still closed, she reached for her sleeping eye cover and put it on.

She then took out a small throw pillow, placed it on the table, and lowered her head onto it.

Every movement was quick and familiar.

She had completed the entire process without opening her eyes, as though she had practiced it so many times that she no longer needed to think about what she was doing.

Ezra watched her for a brief moment.

Then he sat down.

"You don’t look tired."

Cyrus Burnwick stared at him.

There was a hint of amusement in his expression as he looked Ezra over, seemingly unconvinced that the dance had taken much effort.

"I’m sure you can go for a few more rounds, My Lady Ezra."

He added the last part teasingly.

Ezra settled into his chair, letting his shoulders relax.

"My Lady Cyrus should please keep quiet."

He responded with his usual plain tone.

Cyrus’s smile widened.

Before he could reply, Vera slowly turned her head towards Ezra.

"My Lady Ezra?"

She looked at him, though her words were clearly directed at Cyrus.

"Since when did you two start giving each other nicknames?"

Her expression suggested that she had just discovered a terrible betrayal.

"My right has been taken away."

Vera placed her right hand against her chest.

"I didn’t know you..."

"Vera."

Ezra called her name.

His black eyes settled on her, as plain and unreadable as ever.

Vera stopped speaking.

She looked back at him with her dull black eyes.

For a moment, neither of them said anything.

Then she leaned slightly towards him.

"Do you want me to massage the sides of your head?"

Her voice was light, almost thoughtful.

"I can’t have my beautiful mind stressed over a dance."

A faint smile appeared on her face.

She reached out and placed her index finger against Ezra’s cheek, giving it a gentle poke.

"Rest well for our dance, my dancer."

Vera spoke as though she had offered him a perfectly reasonable suggestion.

Ezra looked at her finger.

If she really wants me to rest, shouldn’t she leave me alone?

He didn’t say the thought aloud.

Vera continued poking his cheek, seemingly pleased with herself.

Each time Ezra looked towards her, she met his gaze without the slightest hint of embarrassment.

"Leave me alone, Vera."

Ezra finally spoke directly.

"No."

Her reply came without hesitation.

Vera leaned closer to his ear.

"I know you like having my attention all to yourself."

She whispered the words before pulling back just enough to look at his face.

Ezra stared at her.

His expression remained completely plain.

Vera didn’t react to his lack of response.

If anything, she seemed to enjoy the fact that he wasn’t giving her the reaction she wanted.

She continued playing with his cheek, her movements slow and casual, as though she had all the time in the world.

Ezra endured it for several more moments.

Eventually, he caught her hand and removed it from his face.

"Too bad."

Vera said lightly.

She leaned back into her chair and placed her right arm on the table, looking perfectly satisfied with herself.

Ezra released a quiet breath and turned his attention towards the dance floor.

He had barely finished one Dance Core, yet Vera was already behaving as though she had been waiting all evening for the chance to disturb him again.

Perhaps she had.

Cyrus had returned to listening to music through his headset.

He had clearly decided that watching Ezra and Vera any longer would only remind him of something he would rather not think about:

Why he didn’t have a lady in his life who treated him with that kind of attention?

He adjusted his headset and turned his gaze away from them.

Lyra Ashburn, on the other hand, had moved a little closer to Cyrus.

She watched Vera with open admiration while eating her desserts in peace.

Every now and then, her eyes followed Vera’s movements, as though she were observing someone she found particularly interesting.

The remaining rest period passed.

Soon, the announcement for the Last Dance Core was made, and the guests began preparing for the final round of dancing.

Vera rose from her chair.

She walked around the table and stopped in front of Ezra before extending her hand towards him.

Ezra looked at her hand.

Then he took it.

He did so calmly, without giving the matter much thought, and rose from his seat.

Vera’s lips curved slightly.

She had secured her partner, and that was all she seemed to need.

The sight did not go unnoticed by the younger students.

"Wait. Don’t tell me Ezra Ashenlocke is really dancing with almost all the Flowers in our year?"

A First Year Royal Academy student stared at the pair in disbelief.

Another student beside him let out a weary sigh.

"I’m already used to this."

"Yeah. He can’t hurt me again."

A third student pressed a hand against his chest.

"But why does my chest hurt so badly when I think about him dancing with Lady Willow Derlis, Lady Diane Bergwyn, and Lady Vera Ashenlocke yet again?"

He looked towards Ezra as though the young Alchemist had personally caused him some great misfortune.

Nearby, another student shook her head.

"Why does Lady Vera Ashenlocke even like him that much?"

"Maybe I should try harder to be like Ezra Ashenlocke. Calm and straightforward when speaking."

"I wish all the Flowers would just leave him for us ladies."

"Exactly! Why do they get to be so close to him while the rest of us can only watch? And we all know they won’t even marry him!"

The complaints continued among the First Years.

Their emotions were a mixture of envy, frustration, and disbelief.

They had already witnessed Ezra’s connections with the Flowers of the Kingdom throughout the first semester of their First Year Academy life, and now they had to relive the whole situation playing out in their eyes in this afternoon already approaching the evening.

First, Ezra had danced with Lady Willow Derlis.

Then he had taken Lady Diane Bergwyn as his partner for the second dance core.

Now, Lady Vera Ashenlocke was leading him towards the dance floor.

Seeing the same thing happen again was proving too much for some of them.

They had thought they had suffered enough after the previous two Dance Cores.

Apparently, the evening wasn’t finished testing their hearts.

However, Ezra and Vera weren’t the only people attracting attention as the final Dance Core approached.

Many influential figures had begun descending towards the dance floor.

Dukes, Duchesses, Counts, Countesses, and other people of high standing were preparing to take part in the final round.

Their arrival changed the atmosphere of the hall, and the number of prominent figures gathered near the floor quickly increased.

The space became crowded.

Several young couples and guests of lower status who had hoped to participate in the Last Dance Core began stepping aside.

Some exchanged uncertain looks before deciding to leave the floor to the more influential guests.

The pressure was difficult to ignore.

With so many important people gathering in one place, not everyone wanted to risk drawing unwanted attention by occupying a space they could easily surrender.

Ezra and Vera, however, continued forward.

Neither of them showed any concern about the people around them.

Vera held Ezra’s hand as they approached the dance floor, while Ezra walked beside her with his usual calm expression.

And just as the anticipation reached its peak...

"I OBJECT THIS!!!"

The furious shout tore through the hall.

The orchestra fell silent before the first note could be played.

Heads turned towards the source of the interruption.

Excited conversations died in the middle of sentences, and the servants standing along the walls stopped in their tracks.

Prince Daniel Aethelmont stood among the guests, his face twisted with anger.

He had risen so abruptly that several people near him looked at him in surprise.

His eyes remained fixed on Ezra, and he made no attempt to hide the hostility burning in them.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Daniel was a Prince of Britannia.

Whatever his personal grievances might be, interrupting the Last Dance Core in front of so many powerful figures was no small matter.

Yet he seemed beyond caring.

He drew a breath, forced his expression into something closer to composure, and turned towards the Dukes, Duchesses, Counts, Countesses, and other distinguished guests.

"My sincerest apologies for causing such a commotion."

His voice was more controlled now, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him.

"I understand that this is an important occasion, and I have no intention of showing disrespect to anyone present."

He paused.

Then his gaze returned to Ezra.

"However, there is something I can no longer tolerate."

The hall grew quieter.

"I will not stand here and watch another man steal my Lady’s hand onto the dance floor!"

Daniel’s voice rose with each word.

By the time he finished, the last trace of restraint had vanished from his expression.

He pointed directly at Ezra.

"You!"

The accusation rang across the hall.

Ezra stopped walking.

Vera stopped beside him.

Neither of them appeared particularly surprised.

Ezra’s expression remained as plain as ever, while Vera merely turned her dull black eyes towards the Prince who had decided to make himself the center of attention.

Daniel, however, seemed to interpret their silence as another insult.

His fingers curled into a fist at his side.

He had watched Ezra Ashenlocke get close to Vera Ashenlocke throughout the party.

He had watched him dance with Diane Bergwyn, and he had endured the sight of the two receiving the crowd’s applause.

Now, just when the Last Dance Core was about to begin, Ezra had taken Vera’s hand as well.

Daniel could no longer bear it.

He was a Prince.

He had status, influence, and a position that demanded respect.

So why was Ezra Ashenlocke the one standing beside the girl he wanted?

The thought only made his anger worse.

Around them, whispers began to spread.

"His Lady?"

"Wait. Is Prince Daniel Aethelmont talking about Lady Vera Ashenlocke?"

"Is he really challenging Mr. Ezra Ashenlocke over her?"

Several guests exchanged looks.

Some seemed shocked that Daniel would cause such a commotion during an event attended by so many important figures.

Others were already smiling at the prospect of a Prince openly declaring his affection for the Jewel of Ash.

"How unexpected. I never thought His Highness would make his feelings so obvious."

"So, he really does have an interest in Lady Vera Ashenlocke?"

"Then what will Mr. Ezra Ashenlocke do? He has already taken her hand."

The whispers grew louder, spreading from one group to another.

Some found the situation amusing.

Others watched with genuine curiosity, eager to see how the confrontation would unfold.

There were even those who thought Daniel’s public declaration was rather endearing.

But not everyone shared their amusement.

The people who understood the weight of such a public challenge knew that Daniel had placed Ezra in an awkward position.

Refusing to respond might invite further provocation, while answering the Prince too directly could turn a dance into a political dispute.

And Daniel had made certain that everyone in the hall was watching.

He had not merely interrupted the dance.

He had made Ezra Ashenlocke the center of a confrontation before the most influential guests in the room.

Yet the person he was trying to impress had not even looked particularly moved by his declaration.

Vera’s gaze remained on Daniel for a moment before she glanced at Ezra.

Ezra, meanwhile, continued to look at the Prince with his usual, unreadable expression.

Neither of them spoke.

Then, almost at the same time, Ezra and Vera turned their eyes back towards Prince Daniel.

Their expressions were so plain that, for one brief moment, it was difficult to tell whether either of them had taken his outburst seriously at all.