CHAPTER 35: 32: DANCE PRACTICE.

A few days had already passed before Edward finally met his dancing instructor.

He was standing in the middle of a large empty room, cleared of everything except a few chairs and a desk. Edward wasn’t really sure what he had expected when he heard that the dancing instructor had arrived, but it sure as hell wasn’t the eery silence pressing down on his ears.

He waited for a long moment in the chamber, slightly zoned out, going over everything he had been learning the past few days.

Then,

The door to the chambers suddenly burst open with a dramatic kind of flourish, and Edward flinched inwardly. In came a woman, her pastel pink skirt bellowing like the wind. She was a small woman, matching Edward in height, but her presence was anything but.

Edward smelled the woman before he saw her, really.

Wait that didn’t sound right-

The tidal wave of perfumes assaulted his nose, and as he took a step back reeling in shock, he heard her noise thundering throughout the room.

"Oh my~! It’s the young master of Myrvale in the flesh"

Edward flinched, looking at the person closing the distance between them in large strides.

She stopped just before him and gave him a deep bow.

"I am Maribelle Frosen, I will be your dancing instructor for the while."

Edward blinked.

Then blinked again.

He was a little taken aback. When Emilia had said that he’d get a dancing instructor, he wasn’t really sure about what to expect. But it was not this.

This woman reminded him of his kinder garden teacher from Earth.

She was just way too sweet!

It almost made him feel nostalgic for a moment.

Maybe it was that, he felt a little warm when he saw her.

"Nice to meet you..." He stammered out through the confusion.

Maribelle straightened.

"Should we get right to it? Or should we take a bit of time to adjust before starting?"

Edward gave her a polite smile.

"We’re a bit short on time so it might be for the best if we start immediately."

***

The room echoed with the sound of tapping heels and Maribelle’s rhythmic counting.

"One, two! One, two—ah, not like that, dear, your stride is too short! Lift, don’t drag! Are you trying to sweep the floor or charm it?"

Edward exhaled through his nose, doing his best not to roll his eyes. "I’m trying!"

Damn you woman!

She sighed theatrically, fluttering one hand near her forehead like she was seconds from fainting. "Trying is for peasants. Dancing is for nobility. You must breathe grace, young master!"

It was even harder to not roll his eyes this time.

He muttered under his breath, "I’d rather breathe oxygen."

"What was that?"

"Nothing!"

She flashed him a smile, and then spun away from him with an effortless twirl, skirts blooming out like a flower in motion. "Again!"

Edward reset his stance like a sleeper agent called into motion, counting under his breath, every muscle stiff with effort. He moved as she directed—step, turn, pivot—but each movement felt forced. He couldn’t help thinking how ridiculous he must look.

And just as that thought crossed his mind, the system chimed, of course it did.

Ding!

[ Temporary Passive Activated: Grace in Motion ]

[ Temporary Buff: +10 Agility , +10 Charm ]

[ Objective Progress: 12% ]

Edward froze mid-step. Oh, come on-

Before he could finish the thought, his body seemed to move on its own. His shoulders loosened, his steps flowed smoother, his feet glided perfectly across the marble floor. The stiffness melted away, replaced by a natural, elegant rhythm that even he didn’t know he had.

Maribelle blinked. "Oh my stars... that was magnificent!"

Edward stumbled to a stop. "What?"

"Don’t stop! Do that again!" she demanded, clapping her hands excitedly. "One, two, one, two!"

He followed, uncertain but unable to resist her enthusiasm. His movements were fluid, his posture poised, and somehow his spins and turns looked deliberate. It felt like someone else had taken the reins—someone who actually knew what they were doing.

The system hummed softly in the back of his mind, content.

[ Elegance: +2 ]

Maribelle squealed. "You’re a natural, young master! This is simply.... ah!"

The door creaked open.

Both froze mid-step.

Standing there was Calen D’Arvis, posture perfect, expression unreadable. His gaze flicked from Edward’s flushed face to Maribelle, then back again.

"Oh—Sir Calen!" Maribelle clasped her hands together, beaming. "Perfect timing! The young master is showing remarkable progress!"

Calen’s eyes rested on Edward a little too long. "I can see that."

Edward suddenly felt like he was standing on stage in front of a crowd. "It’s... uh... it’s not what it looks like."

Calen raised an eyebrow. "You were... dancing."

"Yes! I mean... no! I mean yes, but not-"

Maribelle waved dismissively. "Don’t mind him, Sir Calen. He’s just modest. Truly, his footwork is—"

"—Beginner’s luck!" Edward cut in hastily, stepping backward, and nearly tripping on the flat floor.

Calen caught his arm before he could fall, steadying him with one gloved hand. His touch was light but firm, his eyes calm and level.

Edward could feel his ears burning. "Thanks," he muttered, avoiding his gaze.

Calen released him after a moment. "Be careful, young master. You’re more likely to bruise yourself than impress anyone."

"Ouch," Edward muttered under his breath.

Maribelle clapped her hands. "That’s enough for today! We’ll resume tomorrow, same time. Remember, grace isn’t just in the feet; it’s in the heart!"

Edward gave a polite nod, practically bolting for the door. Calen followed silently beside him.

The moment they were in the hall, Edward sighed, rubbing his forehead.

Ding!

[ Skill Unlocked: Waltz of Charm Lv.1 ]

[ Affection (Calen D’Arvis): +1 ]

Edward stopped dead in his tracks. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

Calen glanced over. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"You seem... distracted."

"I’m fine. Just dizzy."

"From the dancing?"

Edward glanced at him, expression deadpan. "Let’s go with that."

Calen’s lips twitched—almost, almost into a smile—but he said nothing more.