♡ TL: Khadija SK
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Everyone in the Easton family, except Viscount Easton, knew that information was false, but no one told him the truth.
“Stop looking around. Duke Bernier won’t come today, I’m certain. Stop searching for someone who isn’t here and dance with me instead.”
Lady Easton tugged at her husband’s arm.
Unable to resist her hand—Viscount Easton, who still loved his wife—stepped onto the dance floor.
Thanks to that, Charlotte and Hazel exchanged glances freely.
“If you feel tired, why not head to that balcony to rest?”
“We just arrived.”
Even if Hazel wasn’t fond of parties or banquets, she didn’t retreat to a lounge or balcony right upon arrival.
She preferred to first assess the quality of the food served and the faces of the attendees before enjoying her own quiet time.
And Charlotte always took it upon herself to shatter that peace, pushing her to mingle with others by any means.
But today, she was eager to send her to the balcony. Hazel realized it instantly.
Theodore would come.
“Thank you, Charlotte.”
Hazel lightly kissed Charlotte’s masked cheeks—adorned with a small chick mask—and headed toward the balcony.
***
Lady Valance, hosting today’s masquerade ball, was renowned for her deep love of dance.
And she possessed enough wealth to invest in her passion without hesitation.
Thus, upon the death of the elder Lady Valance, she built a hall dedicated to dance banquets.
The hall Lady Valance constructed back then was astonishing in its size, but the luxury exuded by the materials used was no less impressive.
The floor was entirely clad in marble, the curtains imported directly from abroad, and the sculptures placed throughout the hall were works by the most famous contemporary sculptor, requiring substantial premiums to acquire. Thus, it offered immense visual delight.
Hazel, too, loved Lady Valance’s eye-pleasing parties.
Especially masquerades like today, where identities could be concealed.
Wearing a simple mask of paper, feathers, and assorted materials covering half her face gave her a sense of liberation.
She laughed more than usual, spoke freely, and was more honest.
That’s how Hazel described masquerade nights.
As she admired Lady Valance’s taste, Hazel reached the balcony Charlotte had mentioned.
She scanned her surroundings with her eyes, stepped onto the balcony, and untied the curtain’s cord to signal someone was inside and wished not to be disturbed.
Hazel placed her hands on the balcony railing and waited for her visitor. The wait wasn’t dull.
Gazing at the dimly lit garden was pleasant, and imagining the time she’d spend with Theodore kept boredom at bay.
‘Waiting is enjoyable?’
Hazel tilted her head, puzzled by this new sensation, then burst into laughter.
‘It seems I really do like the duke. Maybe because I desperately needed a friend I could connect with so freely.’
Hazel still believed her feelings were mere friendship.
But when had she fallen for him?
She couldn’t recall a specific moment.
Just a light joke he’d once told her.
And his radiant smile at that moment.
Suddenly, she remembered Theodore’s expression when she rejected his marriage proposal that night.
His face had said, “How could she not like me?”
Back then, she’d thought Theodore was terribly arrogant, but since she’d fallen too, perhaps he’d had a right to think that way.
He was a truly captivating man.
“What’s making you smile so beautifully?”
Hazel flinched as someone approached her.
She turned to see Theodore gazing at her with his usual warm eyes.
“Where did you come from?”
“The door, of course.”
“I didn’t hear it open.”
“Because you were so focused? Now I’m even more curious. What were you thinking about that you didn’t hear the sound?”
Theodore leaned back against the railing.
Hazel stood facing the garden while he faced the balcony door, and they conversed.
Laughter didn’t cease, even as they exchanged simple updates.
Then, abruptly, Hazel stifled her laugh and asked:
“It seems you’ve planted a spy in the Easton family.”
The smile on Theodore’s handsome face wavered slightly.
But he quickly regained his charming grin and confessed at once:
“An excellent spy, isn’t she? She’s doing her job better than I imagined.”
“But she’ll stop from now on. I’ll keep a very close watch on her.”
“Shouldn’t you give me one chance? I’ll warn her never to get caught from now on, so let’s let it slide this time.”
“If you’re sharing friendship letters with the spy instead of espionage, I’d be delighted.”
“I’m sorry, but my affection and friendship have limits. I’m currently giving everything I have to you, Miss Hazel, so I can’t spare friendship for Miss Charlotte.”
Theodore brazenly declared, without batting an eye, that he’d continue gleaning information about Hazel through Charlotte.
Hazel burst into a wry laugh.
His audacity was unbelievable. As was her own acceptance of his flawed logic.
“Don’t let me catch you again.”
It was a feeble warning. Theodore nodded.
Silence fell between them for a moment. In that instant, the sound of music slipped through the door and curtain.
It was the end of a group dance.
“The next one will likely be a solo waltz.”
Theodore extended his hand to Hazel.
“Would you dance one with me, Miss Hazel?”
If Hazel took his hand, it would be their first dance together.
He in a wolf mask, she in a dove mask.
Hazel hesitated, fidgeting with her fingers.
“I’m not good at dancing. Especially the waltz.”
Dancing was something even Charlotte—who saw Hazel as a goddess—had given up on.
“Sister, it’s better not to dance until your partner’s completely in love with you,” had been her earnest advice.
In high society, where emotions were expressed through dance and relationships gauged by the number of dances, it was an impossible suggestion, but Hazel took it seriously.
Thus, from among the persistent suitors requesting dances to please Charlotte, she’d choose the least significant ones to waltz with.
By the end of the waltz, her partners’ faces were pitiful.
So she couldn’t dance with Theodore.
It was natural to want to look good in front of a friend.
“It’s fine. I’m good at dancing. And the most important part of any dance is the lead. If you feel you’re not good at it, that’s your partner’s fault.”
Theodore took Hazel’s hand, which had been toying with her dress’s hem.
“Put your hand on my shoulder.”
To keep her from escaping, he firmly supported her back with his large hand.
“Listen to the music. If you can’t, you can close your eyes.”
“Your Grace, you might not walk home tonight.”
Hazel might step on his feet so much he’d have to remove his shoes. And he couldn’t walk barefoot, so someone might have to carry him.
The area beneath Hazel’s eyes twitched slightly at this ghastly image.
Theodore brushed under her eyes with his thumb.
“Don’t be nervous, Miss Hazel. Leave everything to me.”
He stepped closer. The tip of his shoe vanished beneath the wide hem of her dress.
“Don’t blame me later.”
Hazel warned. Theodore smiled and pulled her nearer.
The tip of Hazel’s chin came so close to his shoulder it nearly touched.
Her chest had no choice but to press against his upper arm.
‘Was the waltz this intimate?’
Hazel coughed lightly to mask her embarrassment.
“Because I said I’d lead someone… Come on, close your eyes.”
Theodore whispered in Hazel’s ear.
She closed her eyes like an enchanted girl. Her long lashes cast thick shadows on her cheeks.
Theodore’s eyes trembled slightly as he watched Hazel obey his words so willingly.
He clenched his brow tightly while she couldn’t see, clearly suppressing something.
After struggling to rein in his rising impulse, Theodore asked:
“Can you hear well?”
Hazel tightened her grip on his hand.
As he’d said, closing her eyes sharpened her hearing immensely.
The problem was, she didn’t just hear the music.
Rapid, mysterious heartbeats and the clamor of Theodore’s breathing struck her ears forcefully.
To dance, she needed to block out those sounds…
But focusing on the music amid the tumult in her heart was incredibly difficult.
It’d be better if Theodore started dancing despite her, but that seemed unlikely too.
There was no other option.
“I should move first.”
Hazel took her first step.
A bold, forceful step, utterly unsuited to a waltz.
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