Chapter 63: The Barony of Esquente (5)
I never imagined it.
That I would feel nervous about moving my body.
It wasn’t as if this was my first ti dancing, nor was it my first ti with Sirien as my partner.
I, too, was raised in a noble household. Even as the son of a martial family, dancing was considered a basic skill.
Whether or not I cared for it, I had always assud I’d attend social events at least once.
And yet, every nerve in my body was on edge, afraid I might misstep, afraid I might make an embarrassing mistake.
At least for this mont, I couldn’t afford such blunders.
I wouldn’t let this mont be ruined like that.
My eyes followed Sirien’s every movent.
The gentle rise and fall of her arms, like a bird’s wings.
The deliberate, easily followed steps.
Even the playful flourishes and subtle changes in direction—everything drew my gaze.
Each ti Sirien moved, the distance between us closed and widened like a tide.
Our joined hands clung together, unwilling to part.
I found a strange comfort in that unyielding connection.
“You’re doing well for soone who said they were clumsy. You could have a little more confidence.”
“I’m just trying not to ss up. I’m terrified I’ll make a mistake.”
“So what if you do? I’ll cover for you.”
“Funny, it feels like you’re hoping I’ll ss up.”
“Maybe just a little? It’d be cute.”
A turn together, spinning as one.
Following Sirien’s lead, I turned and reached out, my hand instinctively settling on her waist.
Her slender, petite fra fit perfectly in my grasp.
A soft scent wafted up—mild and gentle, like milk, with a hint of sweet vanilla.
Her deep, laughing eyes t mine before shifting directions again.
Perhaps it was the familiarity born of countless shared monts.
Without a single word, I could sense what Sirien wanted, how she wanted to move.
Before I even thought about it, my body responded on its own.
Her movents caused the edges of her dress to flutter, like the wings of an angel.
“Ahaha! You almost stepped on my foot just now.”
“Sorry. I thought I was being careful.”
“It’s fine—I dodged in ti.”
The purpose of a ball gown’s voluminous skirt is to highlight every motion, to draw attention to each movent.
From above, it resembles a blooming flower, and the way it flutters with the rhythm is srizingly beautiful.
But Sirien didn’t need an extravagant dress to stand out.
She had an innate radiance.
Every finger extended toward the air seed to exude its own charm.
The delicate veil that swayed with her movents, the perfectly sculpted curves of her figure,
Even the smile on her face, brimming with joy—it all blurred the world around us into abstraction.
In this place, there was only the two of us.
Everything else dissolved into a swirl of indistinct colors.
“Hold steady. If I fall, I’ll cry and bla you.”
“Wow, that’s a scary kind of threat.”
I supported her sensuous, arched waist with my arm.
Sirien braced herself by holding onto my back, and her face appeared in the space between our arms—
A familiar face, yet it felt strangely new.
It was as beautiful as ever. Perhaps even more so than usual.
My heart thudded, sending waves of dizziness to my ears.
“See? You didn’t let fall.”
“I’d hate to hear your complaints if you had.”
“Idiot. Like I’d ever bla you for sothing like that.”
This ti, it was Sirien who pulled closer.
The distance between us narrowed.
As our arms overlapped, the space between our bodies beca no more than the width of a fist.
My breath mingled with hers, tangling in the small space we shared.
The heat between us seed to rise all at once.
Was this what they ant by fleeting joy? How had so much ti passed already?
The music was nearing its end.
As the crescendo peaked, I lifted Sirien and spun her once before gently setting her down.
Her ruby-red eyes widened montarily before curving into a crescent,
And with Sirien’s radiant smile as the finale, the music ca to an end.
* * *
The original novel “Saintess, Reverse Harem is Impurel!” was a run-of-the-mill romance fantasy.
I couldn’t quite recall the author’s pen na, but one thing was clear—they certainly wrote to match the title.
A vague and overly simplistic reverse harem.
The original work of this world revolved around the protagonist, Ellis, the Saintess of Light, basking in the endless love of her many male leads.
There was no need for detailed cause and effect when it ca to that “love.” Instead, the author prioritized writing as many romantic advances from the male leads as possible over crafting the plot.
Which ant, for the sake of the protagonist’s romantic escapades, this world was filled with all kinds of intricate settings and devices.
The painters who worked tirelessly during the day to draw portraits were one such device, as was the prop now displayed on stage.
After one song concluded, a man in flamboyant attire stepped onto the stage.
He was the host of the event. Captivating the crowd with witty jokes, he skillfully guided the festival forward.
First, he briefly introduced the orchestra, then transitioned to the main event by announcing a prepared activity.
Every event needs prizes, of course, and the host seed particularly confident in the one he unveiled.
What he brought out was sothing I instantly recognized.
“A cara?”
It was a boxy contraption resembling an early prototype of a cara, mounted securely on an ornate tripod.
A few individuals, who appeared to be mages, inspected the cara and gave a signal indicating it was in working order.
The host scanned the audience from the stage.
For a mont, I thought his gaze lingered in our direction, but it was probably just my imagination.
That cara had originally been used by the wealthiest man in the Empire during the protagonist’s encounter with the “Golden Duke.”
It was described as a device that took years to develop, and yet here it was, before my eyes. I hadn’t expected to see it here of all places.
Its performance was likely decent enough—magic was nothing if not versatile.
The real issue was its maintenance. It was a costly and labor-intensive device.
Taking a single photo could cost several gold coins, and without mages to operate it, the machine was practically useless.
The Baron must have gone to great lengths to bring this here.
The host began shaking a few pre-printed photographs as he explained the cara to the audience.
I didn’t need to listen, but Sirien’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.
“For those who co up to the stage, you’ll be given an opportunity! But not everyone will get their picture taken. You’ll need to pair up in twos, complete a given task, and only those who succeed will have their photo taken!”
It was no surprise that Sirien imdiately started nudging .
“Razen, let’s go! Please? Hurry! That looks so cool!”
“What? Uh… okay…”
“Co on, let’s get in line! Over there, right?”
Unable to resist Sirien’s enthusiasm, I found myself heading toward the stage.
The line had already grown long as soon as the host finished speaking.
As we stood in line, I noticed sothing.
Everyone here, aside from us, was a lovey-dovey couple.
Even while waiting, so pairs couldn’t help but exchange kisses or display their affection openly.
This was probably the intent all along.
Most people seeking to create a special mory like this were bound to be couples.
Given that people had flocked here not only from the Barony but from neighboring areas, there were plenty of them.
Noticing the atmosphere, Sirien seed a little deflated.
Maybe she felt self-conscious.
When I held her hand, her expression softened just a bit.
Then, she spoke in a quiet whisper.
“Razen.”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for always humoring , for everything. Since we were kids until now.”
“…You’re making blush.”
The host had promised a total of five photographs.
Sirien and I were sowhere in the middle of the line, and ahead of us, people were already attempting the missions as per the host’s instructions.
The nature of the missions ranged from rely diverse to outright whimsical, dictated solely by the host’s fancy.
However, they weren’t exactly easy.
So required collaboration between the two participants, while others demanded one partner perform sothing akin to a stunt.
Even the ones that sounded simple often had a low success rate, which suggested that the host intentionally made the challenges difficult.
Still, with so many participants, chances were disappearing one by one.
Sirien grew visibly anxious, but fortunately, luck wasn’t entirely against us.
By the ti it was our turn to go on stage, one last photo opportunity remained.
The host’s eyes lit up the mont he saw Sirien.
Her beauty was undeniable—a saintess whose stunning appearance always captivated attention wherever she went.
Even from the audience below, I could feel the shift in focus, as if all eyes were on her.
“This ti, we have a lovely young lady joining us! So, how long have the two of you been dating?”
“D-dating?! We’re not… not yet… we’re not!”
“Ah, I see! Understood perfectly.”
That ‘not yet’ lingered in my mind, sticking like an itch I couldn’t scratch.
It seed the host had picked up on it as well, given his playful smirk.
His expression, for so reason, reminded of Baron Esquente, and a shiver ran down my spine.
“Well, it’s about ti to move on to the next challenge, so let’s make this one straightforward. How about a kiss?
Right here, on this stage—if you kiss each other, I’ll capture the mont for you!”
My thoughts ground to a halt.
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