⋆𝄞˚｡⋆⋆♡˚｡⋆⋆𝄞˚｡⋆⋆♡˚｡⋆⋆𝄞˚｡⋆

Few more weeks passed, and classes flowed as usual. However, today during their Etiquette and Diplomacy lesson, the students were led to the academy’s grand ballroom.

Bathed in golden afternoon light, the ballroom’s polished marble floors reflected a warm glow, creating an atmosphere of timeless elegance. Today’s lesson focused on court dances and formal ball etiquette—an essential skill for any noble.

But before the session began, Professor Theo called Randall aside and spoke to him quietly. The ladies watched from a distance, their curiosity piqued as Randall listened with his usual calm expression, giving only a polite nod.

“What could they be talking about?” whispers rippled through the students.

Aster and Katharina stood near the edge of the ballroom, chatting quietly. Katharina leaned closer, her tone teasing.

“I think all the ladies here would love to be Lord Randall’s partner. I wouldn’t deny I want that too. I wonder who the lucky lady would be.”

Aster couldn’t help but glance in their direction, curiosity tugging at her.

‘What could Professor Theo and Lord Randall be discussing so privately?’

Yet beneath that curiosity lingered another weight—these past few weeks, Randall hadn’t been the same since the debate. She didn’t want to admit that it weighed on her heart.

“Oh, but you’re the only one who doesn’t wish for that…since you like Lord Ranley,” Katharina whispered teasingly.

Aster flinched, snapping back to reality.

“Shh! Someone might hear you,” she hissed, tugging at Katharina’s sleeve in a panic.

Katharina only laughed softly, amused by her friend’s reaction.

From across the room, Randall’s gaze flicked toward their bickering. He said nothing, merely turning away as if disinterested.

Finally, Professor Theo stepped into the center of the room, his sharp gaze sweeping over the eager students as they waited to pair up. Though not a noble by birth, he had once served in a noble court, earning his standing through mastery of etiquette, rhetoric, and diplomacy. His reputation and the royal family’s endorsement had secured his position at the academy.

“As you all know,” he began, his voice carrying clearly through the gilded hall, “dancing is a fundamental part of noble etiquette. It is not only an art, but also a form of communication and diplomacy. For today’s session, each of you will practice with a partner.”

Excitement rippled through the room as the ladies exchanged hopeful glances, many eyes flicking toward Randall—the most sought-after partner among them.

Before the anticipation could swell further, Professor Theo raised a hand.

“Except for Lord Randall Aurelius,” he added evenly. “His family has formally requested that their son be excused from paired practice for private reasons. Therefore, he will not be participating in today’s exercise.”

A wave of murmurs swept the ballroom, followed by a collective sigh of disappointment.

Professor Theo pressed on briskly, allowing no room for questions.

“This is not a matter of favoritism,” he said firmly, his gaze resting briefly on the silver-haired young man. “Given his proficiency and training, the higher authorities have agreed to assign him a different task. For this session, his role is strictly observational.”

The true reason—that he was already bound by unspoken arrangements and could not be paired with anyone else—remained hidden.

Randall, sat beside Professor Theo. His posture was composed, almost aloof, as he rested one hand lightly on his knee and observed the unfolding scene with quiet detachment. His icy-blue eyes observed silently.

With the matter settled, the ladies arranged themselves in a graceful row along the ballroom floor, facing outward so their partners could approach and choose them openly. Aster stood quietly among them, her heart skipping when Ranley stepped forward. For a fleeting moment, she thought he might be walking toward her—only to realize he was headed toward Katharina at her side. But before Ranley could offer his hand, Wren was already there, bowing smoothly and presenting his.

Caught off guard, Ranley quickly turned to Flavia, who stood close by. She had been expecting it. Her lips curved into a triumphant smirk as she slipped her hand into his with practiced ease, then cast Aster a pointed, victorious glance. After all, Ranley was the second most sought-after partner, next only to Randall.

Meanwhile, Wren stood with Katharina at his side, her hand resting lightly in his. Yet his gaze strayed toward Aster, who still stood without a partner. Only moments earlier, his steps had nearly carried him to her but when Ranley moved in their direction, Wren had assumed Aster was his aim.

On instinct, he’d turned to Katharina instead. Perhaps it was for the best. Randall’s warning from the balcony still lingered in his mind, telling him to keep his distance from Aster, and that alone had nudged his final choice. Even now, Randall’s presence was palpable from where he sat, silent and watchful on the sidelines.

When the pairs had taken their places, Aster remained awkwardly alone…the only one unchosen. Professor Theo, noticing the imbalance, sighed lightly before approaching her.

“It seems we have an odd number,” he said. “No matter. I will partner with Miss Winslow.”

A ripple of muffled giggles went around the hall as Aster reluctantly placed her hand in his. Across the floor, Katharina gave her a worried glance, while Flavia and her friends smirked openly.

The music started, and the lesson began. Professor Theo moved with steady grace, his steps setting the pace for everyone else to follow. The class matched his rhythm as best they could.

Aster, however, stumbled almost right away. She stepped too close, then too far, and mostly—mortifyingly—right on the professor’s foot. Since everyone was watching him to keep their timing, each of her mistakes stood out for the whole room to see. Snickers spread among the students.

“I-I’m sorry, Professor Theo,” she whispered again and again, her face burning as she tried to keep up.

From the sidelines, Randall sat in silence, his eyes fixed on the dancers, watching everything unfold without a word.

By the end of the session, Professor Theo winced slightly as he released Aster’s hand, though his voice stayed calm. He turned to Randall.

“Lord Randall Aurelius,” he said, “since you’ve been observing, perhaps you could offer your assessment of your classmates’ performances?”

Randall rose just enough from his seat to be heard, his movements casual but his voice cool and precise.

“Everyone showed potential, though most still need refinement in their steps and timing. However…” his gaze flicked briefly across the room, “…Lord Ranley and Lady Flavia stood out the most. Their synchronization and confidence were commendable.”

Ranley blinked, surprised that someone he viewed as a rival would offer him such direct praise. Flavia, on the other hand, practically glowed, her heart fluttering at Randall’s words.

“Lord Wren and Lady Katharina also showed promise,” Randall continued evenly. “Their movements were natural, as if they understood one another’s steps… communicating through the dance rather than words.”

Wren and Katharina exchanged a quick smile at that. Maybe their past bickering had made them more comfortable together.

‘I wonder what he’s really thinking. He’s so hard to figure out.’ Wren thought, sneaking a glance at Randall.

Then Randall’s gaze shifted to Aster. His tone stayed even, but the air seemed to tighten all the same.

“As for Miss Aster…”

Aster’s stomach flipped. She flinched slightly under his eyes.

“She lacks experience,” Randall went on, “but the foundation is there. With proper practice, she could improve significantly.”

A low, cruel laugh broke the moment. Flavia smirked, her voice cutting through the room.

“You’d think a commoner like her would have at least some sense of coordination.”

Her friends tittered along with her.

Professor Theo clapped his hands sharply, the sound cutting through the ballroom and stilling the whispers.

“Enough,” he declared. “Tomorrow will be your graded performance. And given Lord Aurelius’s… feedback, I expect each of you to practice well and present yourselves properly.”

Then, more pointedly, he added,

“Miss Winslow, I strongly advise you to take extra time to rehearse if you wish to pass tomorrow’s evaluation.”

Aster’s cheeks flamed crimson as she nodded, wishing she could melt into the polished marble floor. From across the room, Katharina reached for her hand and squeezed it gently in quiet comfort.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

That afternoon, Magical Theory class was canceled due to a faculty council, granting students an early dismissal.

As they packed up, Katharina approached Aster. “Don’t worry too much about the dance earlier, Aster. If you’d like, you can come with me to our estate and we can practice there. I have a private tutor. You could even stay the night,” she offered kindly, her tone tinged with excitement.

Aster’s eyes lit up, though regret quickly followed. “I’d love to, Katharina, but I still have to work at the library. And Aunt Sally would be worried if I didn’t come home tonight. Maybe next time—I promise. I’ll ask Aunt Sally for permission in advance.”

“Alright then, that’s a promise. See you tomorrow. Don’t work too late, okay?”

Aster waved as they parted, then made her way toward the library.

But when she arrived, Madame Briswell greeted her with an unexpected announcement.

“You may go home early today, Miss Winslow. The faculty council for the upcoming Celestial Tourney will be held here shortly, and all instructors from every grade will gather. Students are not permitted to be present.”

Aster hesitated, then asked hopefully, “If it’s alright… may I borrow a book on court dancing, Madame Briswell?”

“You may, but that book is restricted—it cannot leave the academy,” the librarian replied.

“The council will finish by half past five, so you have two hours and thirty minutes before it must be returned.”

“Understood, Madame Briswell. Thank you.”

ﮩـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Accepting the limitation, Aster searched for a secluded place to practice, somewhere away from the eyes of others. She stumbled upon a hidden garden behind the academy, surrounded by tall shrubs.

There, swaying gently in the breeze, asters bloomed in quiet clusters. Her eyes lit with sudden resolve.

“Asters…” she murmured. “Look at them, gracefully dancing with the wind. But as for me…” She slouched her shoulders with a grimace, then shook her head. “No. I, myself, am an Aster. I’ll learn.”

With renewed hope, she practiced twirls and steps, though her movements remained awkward and clumsy.

Unbeknownst to Aster, the garden was actually the private courtyard of the dormitories—where some faculty and a few students, including Randall and Wren, stayed.

From the balcony, Randall watched silently as she twirled and tripped over her own feet, amusement flickering in his cold blue eyes. Curious, he decided to go down and approach her.

As Aster imagined the flowers swaying with the breeze, she spun once more. She had been quietly studying the book she borrowed on court dancing, mimicking the diagrams and instructions as best she could. For a moment, she felt as though she was finally getting the rhythm right—until she miscalculated her step and stumbled forward, crashing directly into Randall, who had just arrived.

Her eyes widened in shock, and she quickly stepped back to avoid touching him.

“Wha—?! What are you—why are you here?!” she stammered, embarrassment flooding her face.

Randall’s cold gaze met hers. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He leaned in slightly, his face close to hers. “Do you even know where you are? This is a private area.”

Aster blinked, flustered. “Oh—I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I-uh, I’ll just go.”

She hurriedly picked up her satchel and book, clutching them close as she turned to leave. But Randall reached out and gently caught her hand.

Aster froze, her eyes widening as she turned back to him. Startled, the book and her satchel slipped from her grasp, landing softly on the ground. Randall, momentarily surprised by his own action, hesitated. Yet he didn’t want to let her go. Instead, he smoothly spun her under his arm, seamlessly leading her into a dance. Naturally, Aster twirled—still dazed and confused by what was happening.

“I can help you,” he said lightly. “So you won’t keep trampling Professor Theo’s feet.”

Aster’s face burned at the memory of her disaster in the ballroom. She instantly pulled her hand away from Randall’s grasp.

Without a word, Randall bent to pick up her satchel and book, setting them neatly on a nearby bench. This time, when he offered his hand, it was with a quiet formality. Almost on instinct, Aster accepted, though her mind was scrambling.

‘I almost forgot that he saw my performance this afternoon. He must think I’m clumsy… ugghh..so pathetic.’ She wanted to disappear out of shame.

Then suddenly Randall’s hand brushed lightly against her waist, steadying her, pulling her closer.

“Where is your mind drifting?” His voice was calm, almost chiding. “The first lesson is to keep your focus on your partner.”

Aster’s heart thudded wildly. She didn’t know if it was from embarrassment, nervousness at being this close to Randall after so long, or excitement to learn from him. The emotions tangled together, making her feel like she might melt in his grasp.

And then—she stepped on his foot.

“I—I’m really sorry!” she blurted, panic rising in her voice, her eyes stinging as though she might cry. She could feel her palms growing slick with sweat, painfully aware that Randall still held her hand.

‘I wonder what he’s thinking… he probably thinks I’m disgusting with my hand like this.’

With his other hand steady at her waist, she couldn’t move comfortably.

‘He’s too close. I can’t breathe. I just want to disappear.’

She shut her eyes in mortification.

Randall let out a quiet sigh. “You’re too tense. The second thing you need to know is to trust your partner. Stop overthinking. Let me lead.”

He adjusted her posture slightly, his voice calm but firm.

“Listen to the rhythm instead of watching your feet. Keep your steps light—don’t force them. When I step forward, you step back. When I turn, you follow. A dance is less about control and more about connection.”

Aster swallowed hard but obeyed. And slowly—almost as if bewitched—she did. With Randall’s steady guidance, her movements began to flow, her mistakes lessening until, without realizing how much time had passed, they moved in near-perfect harmony beneath the setting sun.

“You’re getting the hang of it,” Randall murmured. Then his voice dropped lower. “Now—without looking at our feet, the next thing you need to learn is to look at your partner. Dance is a conversation without words. You can’t converse if you don’t meet their gaze.”

Slowly, Aster lifted her eyes to his. Her heart skipped as she saw Randall’s ethereal face framed by sunlight, his silver hair glowing gold under the sun’s last rays. His gaze, no longer cold, was warm and unexpectedly gentle.

“I…I thought you were mad at me,” she said softly, a shy smile touching her lips.

Randall felt something stir inside him. Her gaze unsettled him, so he quickly looked away, flustered.

“Why would I be? There’s no reason for me to be mad, is there?”

The silence that followed stretched, heavy and strange, until he forced himself to meet her eyes again.

But this time, Aster was the one to turn away, her cheeks warming.

‘That’s right. He wasn’t avoiding me because he was angry. I was just overthinking… Who am I to him anyway? It’s not like we’re close enough to greet each other so casually.’

Randall studied her while she drifted into thought, struck by how the sunlight softened her features. She was beautiful—so much that it rattled him. Abruptly, he let go of her, afraid she might somehow hear the pounding in his chest.

“You’ll do well tomorrow,” he said, his tone steady though his chest felt tight.

Aster suddenly realized the time. “Oh—I still need to return the book before it gets too late!”

She dropped into a quick curtsy. “Thank you for today. It really helped.” Without waiting for a reply, she gathered her things and dashed off, her face burning.

Randall watched her retreating figure, his heart hammering. Warmth crept up his face as he sank onto a nearby bench, pressing a hand to his forehead.

‘What’s wrong with me? I swore I wouldn’t let myself be swayed…’

High above, on the balcony, Wren leaned silently against the railing, having witnessed the entire scene.

₊˚♪ 𝄞𝄢₊˚⊹❤︎₊˚♪ 𝄞𝄢₊˚⊹❤︎₊˚♪ 𝄞𝄢₊˚⊹

The following day, the dance performance evaluation began. One by one, pairs stepped forward, moving to the music while the rest of the class watched in silence.

Since Professor Theo was the sole evaluator, Randall had no reason to sit beside him and instead stood quietly among the students, his gaze steady as he observed from the sidelines.

When Aster’s name was called, everyone assumed she would be paired with Professor Theo again.

But the professor, clearly reluctant to endure another painful ordeal, quickly excused himself.

“I must remain as observer and evaluator… so I will need a volunteer.”

A heavy silence settled over the room.

Aster kept her eyes lowered, silently wishing that maybe—just maybe—Ranley would step forward. But he didn’t.

From the side, Flavia and her circle stifled cruel laughter.

Katharina took a step forward. “I’ll dance with her.”

Professor Theo shook his head firmly. “Unfortunately, it must be a gentleman. The roles in court dances are distinct.”

Another tense pause followed. Then at last—

“I’ll do it.”

Wren stepped out, his voice steady, gaze flicking toward Aster.

But before he could take more than a few steps, another figure moved past him with quiet certainty.

Randall.

Without a word, he reached for Aster’s hand and drew her into the center of the floor.

Professor Theo looked as though he might object, but the music had already begun. No one dared interrupt.

The room fell into a hushed silence as Randall and Aster began to move. Each step mirrored the other, their rhythm seamless, as if they had been dancing together all along.

Even Professor Theo, though stunned at first, allowed the performance to continue, his eyes following their perfect sync.

Flavia seethed, her nails digging into her palms. Her friends exchanged sharp whispers. Katharina, though a pang of envy twisted in her chest, smiled softly—because even she could sense the undeniable connection that flickered between the two.

And Wren simply watched. His chest rose with a quiet sigh.

‘Just what is he really thinking?’

When the final note of the music faded, silence lingered in the air.

Professor Theo cleared his throat, his voice unsteady.

“That… was remarkable. Well done. And we also witnessed how Lord Aurelius’s perfect performance even allowed Miss Winslow to dance flawlessly in sync. Bravo.”

Randall’s gaze shifted briefly to the professor, then back to Aster. For the first time, a faint smile touched his lips as he spoke in calm certainty.

“It only seemed perfect… because it’s not just our dance that’s in sync.”

The students—and even Professor Theo—were stunned. None had ever seen Randall smile, much less speak with such tenderness. And yet, no one truly understood what he meant.

As Randall stepped back, releasing Aster’s hand, he met her gaze for a fleeting moment before bowing and turning away.

Aster’s breath caught. Her heart fluttered, her mind scrambling to grasp the meaning behind his words.

‘Not just our dance? Then what else…?’

She quickly shook the thought away, insisting to herself it was probably nothing.

And yet, as she watched him retreat, the warmth of his voice lingered. A soft smile curved her lips as her heart beat a little faster. Though speechless, she knew—this dance, together with the one they had shared the day before, would remain etched in her heart forever.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌