CHAPTER 75: DANCE

When I first arrived at this banquet, I couldn’t even imagine that everything would turn out like this.

I was expecting a very quiet evening: show up, pay my respects to the emperor, drink a couple of glasses of wine, exchange a few polite smiles, and quietly leave before anyone noticed me.

My plans definitely did not include becoming the center of attention, let alone participating in some strange scene with me and... Roger Dickens at the center.

Yes, I understood perfectly well that he would be here. After all, tonight’s event was organized in honor of the empire’s victory, to which he had contributed greatly. A war hero, a young commander, a symbol of a new era for the empire — naturally, his presence would be the main event of the ball.

I was sure that Roger would be so surrounded by praise, people eager to talk to him, women dreaming of attracting his attention, that he would simply have no time for my modest existence.

That’s what I thought.

But reality once again decided to mock me. Because I never expected to hear him ask me to dance.

It all happened too quickly. And before I could even respond, a system notification popped up in front of my eyes — the very same damn one that had been making my eye twitch for a long time.

System notification: Roger Dickens invites you to dance!

Choice: "Accept" / "Decline."

I froze for a moment, even though I knew perfectly well how it would end.

My mood plummeted completely.

Of course, I knew that the outcome in such situations was almost always predetermined. And yet, somewhere deep inside me, there was still a tiny glimmer of hope. Just once, I wanted to avoid this humiliating role of a puppet... But no. As always, the choice was an illusion.

Well, I think it’s already clear which option I had to choose.

I hate it.

"I will gladly accept your offer, Sir Roger," I said, gritting not only my heart but also my teeth.

Yes, it sounded as if I wanted it myself, but inside I was seething with irritation. However, now all I could do was obey the system.

When I placed my hand in his, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Roger’s face brightened slightly. His lips barely moved, but his gaze softened. This surprised me even more, because I expected to see his usual cold mask, impenetrable as always.

And so we were already heading towards the center of the hall.

The crowd parted to make way for us, and for a second it felt like I was walking to the scaffold, not to the center of the banquet hall.

When we stopped, Roger put his arm around my waist, confidently yet cautiously, as if afraid of causing me discomfort. I awkwardly touched his shoulder, trying to keep my distance.

Hundreds of eyes were fixed on us. It seemed that all conversation in the hall had ceased, and now the only topic was our appearance in the center of the room. The music began to play — the gentle sounds of violins and the smooth chords of the piano — and our dance began.

And even though there were other couples dancing around us, I had the feeling that the entire hall had disappeared, leaving only the two of us under the gaze of strangers.

I also noticed Duke Dickens in the crowd. His usually stern face looked surprised, as if he himself did not expect to see his son next to me. His eyebrows rose, his lips tightened, and I could almost read his thoughts: "What in heaven’s name is going on here?"

Well, I understood him perfectly. I had had the same expression on my face just a few minutes ago.

But there was no choice now. The system would not allow me to escape until the dance was over. So all I could do was accept it.

"Sir Roger," I asked quietly, trying to keep our conversation from being overheard, "why did you do that?"

His blue eyes, cold and clear, looked down at me.

"What do you mean?" he asked calmly.

"Why did you ask me to dance?" I clarified, squeezing his shoulder a little tighter, as if my balance depended on it.

"Hmm?" There was a slight mockery in his voice. "Didn’t I already tell you?"

"That you don’t have a partner?" I couldn’t help but frown. "But that’s too weak an excuse. The whole hall is full of women who dream of dancing with you. You could have chosen anyone else..."

"And yet I chose you," he interrupted softly but firmly.

"But why?" I repeated, unable to resist, and my voice sounded more irritated than it should have.

His lips twitched slightly, as if he were holding back a smile.

"Because that was my desire." His words sounded simple and yet meaningful. "And besides... didn’t I just save you?"

I blinked.

Oh, that’s what he meant. He was referring to that humiliating scene when the ladies tried to make a fool of me because I didn’t have a partner.

"Saved?" I snorted quietly. "Thank you, of course. But, to be honest, I don’t think I really needed anyone’s help."

"Perhaps," he replied with the same imperturbability. "But to allow you to remain alone, under the scrutiny of their ridicule... no, that would be unworthy of a gentleman."

I bit my lip. His words were too direct, and I felt slightly embarrassed.

I could see clearly in Roger’s eyes that he wanted to say something else to me. Yet now he was deliberately keeping those words to himself.

Given the current situation, his restraint seemed quite understandable. So many people were looking at us as if we were part of a theatrical performance, and every gaze was eager to expose the slightest detail. This was definitely not the best time for personal conversations.

So we spent the rest of the dance in silence. Only the music filled the pauses between our steps.

Besides, I suddenly caught myself thinking that Roger was a surprisingly good dancer.

His steps were confident, and I involuntarily adjusted to his rhythm. His hand on my waist held me firmly but gently. Despite my irritation at that moment, I couldn’t deny that he was an excellent dancer.

Ultimately, I expected anything from a soldier whose name was renowned on the battlefield, but certainly not such refined grace.

And yet... Roger led me in the dance so confidently that I couldn’t help but continue to marvel at it.

When the music finally stopped, the moment I had been eagerly awaiting arrived. We bowed to each other simultaneously, observing all the rules of etiquette.

For a moment, a strange silence fell over the hall. The guests seemed so stunned by what had happened that they couldn’t even react immediately. I felt dozens of eyes on me — from puzzled to downright astonished.

And only after a few seconds did the first applause break out. It sounded belated and awkward, as if people had not yet decided how to react to what had happened.

I could hardly restrain myself from breathing a sigh of relief.

Finally, it was over.

We stepped aside to make room for other couples. Even though the dance was over, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the performance wasn’t finished. Roger stayed close by, and judging by the look in his eyes, he had no intention of leaving. His silence was more powerful than any words. I could see that he was choosing his words, looking for the right moment, as if he was preparing to say something important.

And, to be honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it.

However, before he had a chance to speak, chance intervened.

"Lady Weinstein," a voice suddenly said nearby.

I turned and saw a man in a black doublet. His posture was impeccable, his face impassive, as if carved from stone. But the distinctive emblem with the imperial coat of arms spoke more about his identity than it should have.

The emperor’s chamberlain.

I recognized him immediately, even if he hadn’t said the next sentence:

"Would you come with me? His Majesty wishes to see you now."

For a second, I froze.

The emperor... now?

Nevertheless, I suddenly caught myself thinking that for the first time all evening, I felt relieved.

"Of course," I replied, trying to keep my voice calm and without unnecessary excitement.

Well, to be honest, I never expected that these words from the chamberlain would sound almost like salvation to me.

I took a step to the side, preparing to follow him, but felt Roger’s gaze linger on me for a moment.

He didn’t say a word to me, but his eyes clearly expressed what was left unsaid. It was as if he wanted to let me know: "The conversation is not over yet."

In the end, I could only nod silently to him before following the emperor’s servant.