The banquet hall had slowly recovered from the earlier uproar caused by the "Storm Incident." The tension that had once wrapped the air like a tightened string began to ease, replaced by music that glided across the golden hall like liquid silk. The orchestra, clearly paid enough to pretend nothing happened, struck up a smooth rhythm — a royal waltz, slow and elegant, with undertones of playful tempo.
Crystal chandeliers cast dancing lights over the guests, the shimmer of their glow reflecting on polished marble floors and the fine fabrics of noble attire. Laughter returned in measured tones — the kind nobles used to pretend they were unaffected. The scent of wine, flowers, and expensive perfume mixed into something that screamed "I'm richer than you" from every corner of the room.
I, Rishi Lux Darknorth, leaned against one of the marble pillars at the edge of the dance floor, holding a glass of something that looked like wine but tasted like disappointment. Yes, it was water just a little special one.
Well, have you ever heard of black water, well here it is red one.
As I don't drink but to show all these nobles that I am not childish I have show something.
My dear cousin Serenya was standing beside me, the very image of grace, though I could practically feel her annoyance simmering from the earlier encounter with that pompous windbag from the Storm family.
"Stop glaring holes into your drink, Rishi," she murmured without even looking at me. "You look like you're planning to drown it in the lake."
I tilted my glass lazily. "I would, but it will pollute it."
Before she could retort, a familiar voice interrupted — calm, cool, with that subtle authority that could silence a room.
"Lady Serenya," said Prince Aldric, stepping forward. His silver eyes, always too perceptive for comfort, softened slightly as he offered a courteous bow. "Would you honor me with this dance?"
Serenya blinked, then smiled — not the noble, rehearsed kind, but the faintly amused one she only gave when she was caught off guard. "Of course, Your Highness. I'd be honored."
She placed her hand in his, and as they walked to the center of the hall, I could practically hear the collective gasp of nobles — a mix of envy and gossip brewing faster than an overcooked potion. Serenya and Aldric — the Duke's niece and the Crown Prince — made a striking pair. His calm confidence and her serene poise blended perfectly as they began to move with the rhythm, each step measured, each turn flawless.
"Now that's a pairing the bards will milk for years," I muttered.
A soft giggle to my right pulled my attention. "Then I suppose it's only fair the next verse includes you, Lord Rishi."
Ah. Trouble in the form of the royal princess.
Princess Elara stood beside me, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. Her golden hair shimmered under the chandeliers, her eyes alight with that same curious spark that always spelled doom for my peace of mind.
"Your Highness," I said with a grin, giving a courteous bow. "You honor me with your radiant presence… and mildly alarming timing."
She crossed her arms playfully. "You're trying to flatter me to escape, aren't you?"
I pretended to gasp. "Would I ever? My reputation as a responsible, serious nobleman—"
"—doesn't exist," she finished smoothly. "Now, are you going to stand there hiding behind sarcasm, or will you dance with me?"
Around us, a few nobles were already watching, whispering like a pack of gossip-hungry parrots. Declining a princess was equivalent to social suicide — or worse, a lifetime of being "that guy who rejected the royal twin."
"Ah, Your Highness," I said, straightening with exaggerated seriousness, "you leave me no choice but to risk public humiliation. I must comply."
Elara's smile widened. "You make it sound like a death sentence."
"Oh, it is," I said solemnly as I offered my hand. "You've never seen me dance after two glasses of disappointment juice."
She rolled her eyes but took my hand anyway.
The music shifted — a slower, more refined melody. We took our places on the floor beside Aldric and Serenya. The nobles formed a circle, giving space to the royalty and — unfortunately — to me.
Elara looked up at me as we began to move in sync with the rhythm. "I heard you're quite skilled in the royal dances."
I smirked. "Skilled? Maybe. Enjoy them? That's another story."
"Then why do them so perfectly?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"Because," I said, guiding her through a smooth spin, "nobles love two things — control and admiration. So I give them both. It's fun to watch their expressions when they realize the guy making jokes about protocol knows it better than they do."
She laughed lightly, the sound as bright as the chandeliers above us. "You're strange."
"I prefer the term 'exceptionally handsome enigma,'" I replied. "It sounds classier."
"You mean more self-absorbed," she teased.
"Semantics," I said with mock offense, earning another laugh.
As we glided across the marble, our movements began to draw attention. Elara was graceful, light on her feet — as expected of a royal — but she wasn't stiff or formal. She enjoyed the dance, the rhythm, the freedom. I matched her pace easily, my body moving out of instinct more than effort. Despite my jokes, I knew every formality, every pattern — the years of noble training embedded into muscle memory. My movements were precise, deliberate, yet relaxed enough to make it look effortless.
It was a strange irony — I mocked noble etiquette, yet I followed every rule with perfect execution.I was like a scholar who hated exams but always topped them.
"You're good," Elara said softly as the dance continued. "I didn't expect that."
"I told you," I said with a faint grin, "I'm a man of surprises. Half of them are even pleasant."
She gave me a sidelong glance, her golden hair brushing my shoulder as we turned. "And the other half?"
I smiled. "Classified."
As the song neared its crescendo, the atmosphere in the hall shifted again — eyes following every turn, every flick of motion. The nobles whispered, the music rose, and for a moment, I forgot about the endless politics, the scheming elders, or even the constant paranoia of being an anomaly in this world. For a brief span of rhythm and motion, there was only the dance — and me enjoying making the crowd's jaws drop.
The music ended with a soft flourish. Applause followed — polite but tinged with genuine surprise. Elara gave a small curtsy, and I bowed theatrically, whispering just loud enough for her to hear, "We should do this again. Preferably without an audience full of judgmental peacocks."
She covered her mouth to hide a laugh. "Careful, Lord Rishi. I might take you up on that."
"Then I'd be doomed," I said with mock despair as I offered her my arm and escorted her back toward the edge of the floor.
Prince Aldric and Serenya had already finished their dance. Aldric gave me a knowing look — sharp, almost analytical — while Serenya's expression was more amused.
"Well, well," she said as we rejoined them, her tone teasing. "Seems like our dear Rishi isn't as hopeless as he pretends."
"Hopeless? I prefer 'artistically misunderstood,'" I said, feigning hurt.
Aldric, ever composed, allowed the faintest hint of a smile. "You dance well, Lord Rishi. Your movements were… unusually precise."
"Unusually?" I echoed. "I'll take that as the royal version of a compliment."
"Perhaps," he said, that sharp glint in his eyes never fading. "You hide things well."
That single line carried weight. It wasn't a threat — more like a quiet observation.He was too perceptive. Too aware.
I smiled thinly. "Well, Your Highness, what's the point of being noble if we don't hide a few tricks?"
Aldric's gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before he finally nodded and turned away. Serenya elbowed me lightly. "You just can't stop yourself from poking the sharpest minds in the room, can you?"
I grinned. "What can I say? It's my charming personality."
She sighed. "One day, that charm will get you killed."
"Then I'll die fabulous," I said, raising my glass again as the orchestra began a new tune.
Around us, laughter and chatter filled the hall again. Nobles mingled, servants weaved through the crowd with silver trays, and the earlier tension was now a distant memory. Yet as I glanced toward Aldric, who was now deep in quiet conversation with his father, I couldn't help but feel that his words — You hide things well — weren't casual at all.
For now, though, I decided to let the thought drift away with the music. I'd deal with suspicions, schemes, and secrets later.
Tonight, I was just Rishi Lux Darknorth — the devastatingly handsome, dangerously sarcastic noble who danced better than anyone expected.
And honestly?
That felt good.