Chapter 100
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Chapter 100
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Within the Agenka Grand Temple stood several guest residences reserved for distinguished visitors. The Temple had renovated one of these into a mansion for the Saint. Carefully selected handmaidens maintained the residence, while priests skilled in various disciplines were assigned to instruct the Saint. And High Priest Aaron served as her direct aide.
On June 14th, Echinacea Loaz met Shay and Teresa together on the terrace adjoining that very mansion. Fortunately, Shay's dress was being crafted beautifully without issue. The unfortunate part was that the priests had failed to find an instructor to teach the Saint to dance.
Of course, a twelve-year-old girl bearing the title of Saint would have little occasion to dance frequently. Yet attending a ball while knowing nothing of dance presented a problem. Moreover, this was Shay's debut ball, was it not? Though the significance differed greatly from the typical social debut of young ladies, a debutante was expected to perform at least one dance at the opening.
When Echinacea inquired about this, Aaron naturally assumed Teresa, as her chaperone, would teach Shay to dance. However, Teresa knew only the male steps and hadn't even considered that she ought to teach her. So Echinacea arranged to meet Shay and Teresa together—to teach Teresa while simultaneously instructing Shay.
Echinacea gazed at Shay seated at the tea table. The gaunt and haggard Sol girl had improved considerably under devoted care. Her gray hair, which had resembled tangled cobwebs, now hung in neat braids adorned with lace ribbons.
"Shay doesn't need to learn much yet. Let's focus on just one thing—the most representative Central-style waltz step."
"Yes, sister."
Shay nodded earnestly. The girl, beginning her studies for the first time in her life, brimmed with curiosity and approached learning with enthusiasm. Echinacea smiled at the bright-eyed child and turned her attention to Teresa.
"And Teresa, you'll practice the three waltzes along with the foxtrot. If time permits, we'll also work on the Imperial minuet."
"Understood."
Echinacea was quite an accomplished dancer. Her keen dynamic vision, her ability to quickly replicate movements, and her instinctive command of her body aligned naturally with her talent for swordplay—something that seemed obvious in retrospect. Therefore, Teresa should have no difficulty learning to dance either. Rhythm was a somewhat separate matter, but a Master-class knight could hardly be clumsy; the foundation was already in place for her to exceed the basics.
On the terrace stood a phonograph and a box of musical records prepared by the handmaidens. The large brass horn bore inscriptions in Ghor praising the divine, suggesting it had been borrowed from the Temple's collection.
Echinacea searched through the box filled with hymnal records and found the waltz most commonly used at balls, placing it on the phonograph. As the needle turned, three-beat music flowed forth. Though smaller and tinged with static compared to a live orchestra, it sufficed for practice.
"First, let me show you the waltz, Shay."
Today she wore a pale pink dress trimmed with deep brown lace and white frills, her hair partially braided with a chocolate-colored ribbon. Echinacea gathered her skirts and extended her lace-gloved hand toward Teresa.
"Shall we dance a piece, Teresa?"
Teresa, dressed in her Changcheon uniform, blinked before breaking into a slight smile. She rose from her seat, placed one hand over her heart, and bowed lightly.
"With pleasure."
Teresa took Echinacea's hand. Within the bright, gentle music, she waltzed with her. Shay stared, mouth agape, watching them. The sight of the pink-clad woman and the golden-haired female knight dancing hand in hand to the rhythm seemed to have stepped straight from a fairy tale.
The music ended. As Echinacea and Teresa faced each other and bowed, Shay applauded. The girl chattered excitedly, her cheeks flushed.
"Is this the waltz? It's so beautiful, so magnificent, and the music is lovely, and also... anyway, it's truly, truly beautiful!"
"Now let's try it, Shay. I'll guide you from beside you. Teresa, I'm counting on you."
Teresa nodded and extended her hand toward Shay. The girl in the white dress hesitated, glancing about uncertainly before looking back at Echinacea once, then placed her small hand atop Teresa's. Echinacea placed the record on again. The same waltz began to play. Teresa, who had always taken the male role whenever she attended a ball, led Shay with practiced ease. The girl smiled shyly.
Midway through, Echinacea paused the music and instructed Shay on posture and steps. Since the Central-style waltz was the most fundamental dance, it was simple and easy; Shay quickly grew accustomed to it.
Once Shay had mastered the waltz to a reasonable degree, she wished to learn other dances, but the Saint's schedule before her debut was demanding. Particularly urgent was learning to read. Ultimately, they agreed to study other dances next time, and Shay departed for her reading lessons.
Teresa remained and, with Echinacea's guidance, learned the other waltzes and the foxtrot. As expected, Teresa learned quickly. Knowing the male steps made it easier.
With time remaining, Echinacea intended to teach the Imperial minuet but found herself slightly perplexed. Teresa, being from Antoir, was entirely unfamiliar with the Imperial minuet.
"Normally in the minuet, there's almost no contact between partners except for hand-holding, but the Imperial minuet is somewhat different. Its characteristic lies in the posture when you separate and come together again."
"Like in the waltz?"
"No, it's different from the waltz too. Hmm, I wish I could show you, but without a partner..."
"A partner? I'm right here. I don't know much about dancing, but our commander is different."
A cheerful voice rang out. Dietrich Sarua appeared on the terrace, dragging along a bewildered Yurien. Upon seeing Dietrich, Teresa openly frowned.
"Dietrich, you again..."
"Don't scowl—you'll ruin that pretty face, Teresa."
"Mind your manners, Squire Dietrich Sarua!"
"Yes, Teresa. Ar Sevattiem."
Dietrich spun about and gave an exaggerated Agenka salute in jest. Teresa's expression turned weary. And the moment Echinacea saw Yurien, she stiffened.
When had he returned from Jedo? She wasn't mentally prepared to face him again. The telegram she'd buried in a drawer corner, the Diasant Princess staying at the Knight Order Headquarters, and Yurien's flushed face looking down at her—all of it rapidly flooded her mind. Echinacea avoided his gaze.
Yurien de Harden Kirie observed Echinacea Loaz, whose tension was palpable. During their missions, she had grown accustomed to maintaining composure, yet now she clearly wished to avoid him once more.
After finishing his business following the meal with the Diasant Princess, he had ventured out for a brief respite. His feet had carried him, almost of their own accord, toward the Cathedral. He had learned that Echinacea Loaz would be visiting the Saint today alongside Teresa.
He had ignored the Holy Sword's incessant chatter about where he was going and proceeded toward the Cathedral, only to encounter Dietrich Sarua, who harbored similar intentions. Yurien had attempted to slip away immediately, but Dietrich had dragged him along to this very spot.
Dietrich had discerned Yurien's feelings during the Nodule incident. Thus, as they approached the Terrace and he caught the sound of Echinacea Loaz's voice, he had immediately interjected and pushed Yurien forward. When Yurien shot him a pointed glare, Dietrich jabbed him in the ribs and whispered.
"After I've gone to such lengths to set the stage, running away would be idiotic, Yuri."
Dietrich remained ignorant of the intricate circumstances between them. The political machinations surrounding his friend's betrothal held no concern for him.
'That stiff bastard will agonize over it on his own anyway.'
Thus, all Dietrich could do for his cautious friend was to push him forward without hesitation. And in truth, it proved effective.
Yurien paused, steadied his breathing, and approached her. She seemed uncomfortable in his presence, as she had before. Yet what differed now was that I had come to understand she did not despise me. And more than that—
"I am well-versed in the Imperial minuet. Would you require a partner?"
My own resolve had transformed.
He extended his hand toward her. The elegant melody of the minuet, emanating from the phonograph, filled the air around them.
Echinacea Loaz stared blankly at his outstretched hand. A dream she had once harbored flickered before her eyes—a memory of dancing with someone in a resplendent banquet hall awash in vibrant colors. Though the details remained obscured, the figure had been entirely pale. An unconscious yearning made manifest.
The piano's melody pierced her ears, layered with the resonance of strings, interwoven with the delicate notes of a flute, while the afternoon sunlight streamed in from beyond the Terrace.
She placed her hand upon his.
"Thank you for your assistance, Lord."
The Imperial minuet begins with the woman's hand resting lightly upon the man's, fingertips barely overlapping, as they walk in parallel. Then, in rhythm with the music, they gradually distance themselves from one another, yet must continue to gaze upon their partner throughout.
Following the invisible circle traced by the music, they move in measured steps. Her dress's hem swayed gently with each movement. His silver hair, falling loosely, rippled with each stride.
Never breaking eye contact is the principle. Violet eyes and cerulean eyes held one another. Though they appeared to walk toward each other, the circular pattern kept them from touching. Yet this circle is truly a spiral, and with each step, they draw imperceptibly closer.
Closer, yet not touching. The first contact is merely a fleeting brush. They separate again, circle once more, draw near, and at the second contact, extend their hands toward one another.
One must not grip firmly, lest such rudeness cause one's partner to flee. With fingers delicately intertwined and a gentle pull of invitation, they clasp hands, her hand settling upon his shoulder, his upon her waist.
Only after two circles do the man and woman, now in contact, begin to trace a circle together in three-four time.
The slow, repetitive notes of the minuet made her mind hazy. The phonograph's imperfect reproduction seemed only to amplify the confusion of her emotions. Her fingertips, resting upon his shoulder, had become unnaturally sensitive—as though she could feel each individual thread of the fabric. His hand, placed upon her waist, caused her to tense. Despite the contact being made through her dress, the skin beneath grew taut.
With her breath growing ragged and her heart threatening to burst from her chest, Echinacea Loaz wished to avert her gaze. Yet in the Imperial minuet, even as one alternates between separation and contact, one's eyes never waver.
Those inescapable blue eyes gazing directly down at her. As though he were watching from beyond an iron gate. And the hand that held hers.
Until now, the dance had been a flawlessly elegant Imperial minuet. Ordinarily, they would have continued to separate gradually before resuming. But Echinacea Loaz finally turned her gaze away, breaking the fundamental rules of the Imperial minuet, casting her eyes carelessly toward the Garden.
"Let us rest for a moment."
As those words left her lips, her hand was seized. His properly intertwined fingers tightened their grip. Holding her as she attempted to withdraw, Yurien tried to speak, yet his voice caught in his throat as though blocked. The tension that gripped him was too severe.
The nape of her neck came into view as she turned her head. Her pale pink hair, fallen loose, cast shadows upon skin so luminously white it was almost blinding.
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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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