Twice Claimed By the Monster I Abandoned. Chapter 31: Ballroom

The ball was getting closer and closer.

Even from within the manor, the pressure of it could already be felt. Preparations were happening elsewhere, at the Rainbow Palace, but its influence still reached them.

Conversations shifted, gossip was high, schedules tightened, and everything seed to revolve around that one upcoming event.

And finally, Athiel’s family stopped pestering him.

Mostly because of the undeniable fact that Athiel had managed to manipulate them by crying and throwing a tantrum.

That mory lingered in the back of his mind, not unpleasant, but not sothing he lingered on either.

’Effective,’ he thought simply.

And also, after that day, Athiel made it a point to show himself to his brothers and his father at least once a day.

Just enough.

Just long enough for them to see him, to reassure them, to keep them satisfied.

Then he would leave again.

So now, everything was at peace.

At least on the surface.

Also, everything with Kree was progressing fully.

It was starting to understand more, respond more appropriately, behave in ways that felt less... instinctive and more deliberate.

It watched him more carefully now.

Reacted faster.

Learned quicker.

To the point that it was actually starting to get repetitive.

And a little too predictable.

And because of that, it was starting to get a little boring for Athiel.

Which was why he had begun paying attention to his other existing pets again. Not out of interest, but out of maintenance.

A responsibility he had neglected for far too long.

"Kree, today, as you can see, we’re in a different room."

Athiel’s voice echoed lightly across the large, empty ballroom.

They stood in the manor’s grand ballroom, wide and polished, the high ceilings making even the smallest sound carry.

Light filtered in through the tall windows, casting soft reflections across the floor.

The room was empty.

Since it was only him and the creature.

He had initially asked his brothers if they wanted to watch.

An attempt to make it seem like he was being more open, more cooperative.

A little more like a normal being, instead of a genius.

But Athiel already knew they wouldn’t co.

They were busy today.

Very busy.

Of course, they had appreciated the gesture.

They always did appreciate any signs of humans in Athiel.

Not knowing he had played them again.

’Having as a brother must be so exhausting,’ Athiel thought, the hint of sarcasm curling quietly in his mind as he looked up at Kree.

Kree stood in the middle of the ballroom, still and towering, its gaze fixed entirely on him.

It was watching.

Waiting for its master.

"I am going to teach you the best way to show refinent, intelligence, and class in high society."

Athiel slowly extended his hand toward Kree without a thought.

And Kree... flinched.

It was small.

But it was there.

A subtle recoil, a slight hesitation in its movent, like sothing instinctive had taken over for just a second.

’Oh?’

Athiel’s lips curved slightly, a smirk forming almost imdiately.

’From being clingy... to flinching just by holding out my hand?’

That shift.

That reaction.

It fed sothing in him.

A quiet, satisfied kind of pride.

That was a massive ego boost to Athiel, who was still, more or less, angry for what the monster had done to him.

And now—

Now it was learning.

Athiel let his hand linger in the air for a mont longer before slowly lowering it, his gaze still fixed on Kree, studying that reaction, replaying it in his mind.

’Good.’

He didn’t rush past it. He let it settle, let it sink into him, the way Kree had flinched. The way it hesitated.

Then, just as easily, he let it go.

He turned slightly, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve as if nothing of importance had just happened. Like that mont hadn’t ant anything at all.

"We’ll be moving on from basic commands today," he said, his tone returning to that calm, instructive cadence he always used on Kree. "You’ve learned enough to follow. Now, you will learn how to present yourself."

Kree didn’t respond.

But then again, when did it respond to anything besides what Athiel had taught it?

It didn’t question.

Didn’t interrupt.

It only existed within the limits Athiel gave it.

Athiel glanced at it once, briefly. "I am going to teach you how to dance."

He let the words sit in the air, as if that alone should be enough.

"Dancing is a conversation of nobles during the ball," he continued, walking past Kree, his footsteps echoing softly across the polished floor. "It is not just movent. It shows intention." His voice remained steady, almost detached. "And as I’ve said, it shows class."

He turned back toward Kree.

"You will learn it."

"O...kay?"

The word ca out uneven. Careful. Like Kree was placing it exactly where it was supposed to go.

Athiel smiled.

A small one.

"Good job, you used the word correctly."

It wasn’t warmth.

Not quite.

But it was still praise.

And despite how often Athiel punished Kree, he still understood the importance of that. Of giving sothing back when it was earned.

’Reinforcent works better than fear alone,’ he thought, though there was a faint edge of amusent behind it.

Athiel moved closer to Kree, his steps asured, his attention already shifting back into that focused, almost clinical state.

"Watch," he said.

But before he moved, his eyes sharpened slightly.

"And before I forget, if you show any signs of being unruly..." his voice dropped, quieter now, but carrying sothing far heavier, far colder, "I will punish you."

The words landed imdiately.

Kree stilled completely.

There was no hesitation this ti.

No confusion.

It was understood that.

It was one of the few words Kree had learned quickly. Faster than anything else.

Punishnt.

Athiel saw it in the subtle tension of its body. In the way, its shoulders locked just slightly. In the way its tail, which usually moved without thought, went completely still.

’This is good. This is very good.’

The thought ca with quiet satisfaction.

Because this ant Kree was becoming exactly what he wanted it to be.

’Okay, we should really start before my brothers suddenly decide to show up.’

The thought passed quickly through Athiel’s mind, sharp and practical.

He didn’t want interruptions.

Not now. Not when things were finally progressing the way he wanted.

Without another word, Athiel stepped even closer to Kree.

He adjusted his posture first. Straightened his back. Lifted his chin slightly.

There was a subtle shift in him, almost imdiate, like he had stepped into a role he knew by heart.

Then he raised one hand, the other hovering where a partner’s would be, and took a step.

He moved as if soone was there with him, as if there was an invisible partner in his grasp.

His steps were precise, practiced, each turn smooth.

His hand shifted as if guiding, his body angling with intention, every movent deliberate.

There was no hesitation in him.

No awkwardness.

Only refinent.

’All those lessons paid off even though I never planned to dance with anyone, even to save a life.’

And as he moved, he began to hum softly.

A tune that filled the empty ballroom just enough to guide the rhythm, the sound echoing faintly against the high ceilings, wrapping around the silence instead of breaking it.

Kree watched.

Focused entirely on him.

Athiel didn’t look at him.

Not once.

He simply continued, completing the sequence before stopping, letting the silence settle again, like the end of sothing that should have been applauded.

Then he turned his head slightly. "Now you."

There was no encouragent in his voice.

Only expectation.

Kree moved.

At first, it was slow. Almost hesitant. Its large fra shifted awkwardly as it tried to mirror what it had seen, its limbs moving with too much force, too little control.

It didn’t know how to hold itself yet, didn’t understand how to carry its own size.

Its tail dragged slightly behind it, throwing off its balance.

It took a step.

Then another.

And then it nearly stumbled.

Its body tilted forward, one foot catching too late, its tail swinging sharply to compensate, the movent clumsy and unrefined.

Athiel’s eyes flicked to it for a brief second.

’Clumsy,’ he thought, unimpressed.

Kree looked up at him, its expression uncertain, almost fragile in a way that didn’t match its form. "M-Master..."

"Keep going."

The command was imdiate.

Kree didn’t argue.

It corrected its stance, forcing its body upright again, steadying itself before trying once more.

This ti, slower.

More careful.

It lifted its arm again, mimicking the exact position Athiel had shown. Its posture shifted, straighter now, less uncontrolled.

Its movents were still rough, but there was sothing else there now.

There was focus.

It stepped again.

And this ti, it didn’t stumble.

It tripped and fell completely, face-first, on the floor.

The sound echoed louder than it should have.

"Agh..." Kree groaned, its voice low, strained from the impact.

But Athiel didn’t react.

Not imdiately.

He just stood there, looking down at it, his expression unreadable.

"It seems you have a hard ti on your own," Athiel says, hovering above Kree, his shadow falling over it as it slowly lifts its head to look at him.

"M-Master..." it whimpered.

There was fear in it.

It was afraid it was about to get punished.

And Athiel almost wanted to punish Kree, just for the fun of it.

But that would be counterproductive.

Instead, Athiel sighs.

"Get up. If you can’t learn by copying, I can at least try to teach you by being your partner."