Chapter Title: The Dance of Torment
Belatedly, the whispers around him reached his ears.
"Miss Adelaide really is... absolutely beautiful."
"Lord Luca is going to have trouble now. His second son has met his match."
"When are they going to get engaged?"
"They're such a handsome pair—both so composed."
Suddenly, he had an epiphany. *She didn't know what Adele was like with others, and neither did he.* Like the story of her sitting in the garden eating biscotti.
Just then the music stopped and the dancing ended. Cesare watched Adele's back, dressed in a yellow dress like a spring flower. Ezra was saying something to her with an earnest expression. Adele's shoulders shook slightly as she smiled.
"......"
He felt filthy. Suddenly, his eyes met Ezra's. Ezra looked surprised, then frowned and said something to Adele.
"Miss Adelaide. Behind you..."
Adele turned around slowly. Suddenly, the birthday banquet overlapped with the present. Ezra stood where he had stood then, and Adele gave him that same look.
Finally, Adele and Cesare's eyes met. The woman's face, which had been flushed from the residual heat of dancing and smiling, hardened rapidly. The smile vanished in an instant. Only her well-proportioned features remained, like an ancient palace—devastatingly beautiful.
Cesare felt something snap as he approached them.
"...May the goddess bless you."
"May the goddess bless you."
He greeted first, and Adele replied calmly. Ezra, on the other hand, stepped between them as if to protect Adele from Cesare.
"You came without an invitation."
Adele took a step back, as if it were natural to stand behind Ezra. His stomach twisted once more. Contrary to his emotions, he smiled slyly.
"I couldn't let society know how petty my sister's husband-to-be is."
The words tightened Ezra's jaw.
"I think it's the opposite. I didn't invite my wife-to-be's brother because I couldn't let society know what a filthy human being he is."
"Then you can try to expose me."
"......"
"You can't, Lord Ezra."
Ezra gritted his teeth and spoke in a low voice.
"Of course. Miss Adelaide's honor is at stake."
"Is that really all?"
"Are you trying to insult me?"
"You've always been like this—now you know?"
"...!"
Ezra clenched his fists. Adele stepped in and stood between them.
"Everyone else needs to dance, so let's move."
Cesare looked down at Adele. There was no hatred or contempt in those amber eyes. She was resigned to paying the price, but she seemed completely dispassionate about the man who had done something resembling courting her.
The image of Adele smiling at Ezra and laughing at dawn superimposed itself over the present. Something broke inside him once more. He let out a sharp laugh.
"Shall we dance?"
Cesare grabbed Adele's hand and pulled her away.
"Prince Cesare!"
Ezra reached out, but couldn't catch them. Cesare quickly assumed the waltz position. Adele reflexively posed to match him, but her face was bewildered.
"Let's dance then. Dance."
Cesare said this and took a large step.
---
The frills and lace on the ladies' skirts, the translucent organza, the chiffon and tulle unfurled and settled like petals. One of the ladies standing at the edge of the ballroom looked at the dancers and whispered to the gentleman beside her.
"...How many songs?"
She didn't even mention who she meant, but the gentleman replied with a bewildered smile.
"It's been ongoing. About an hour now."
The lady waved her fan in surprise. It had been about an hour since the Buonaparte siblings had been dancing continuously.
Even those who tried to intervene at first could only watch in bewilderment after two or three songs. Cesare wouldn't let her go, as if Adelaide were the only one in the ballroom. He fixed those golden eyes that showed his arrogant disposition and danced as vigorously and refinedly as always.
Adelaide, on the other hand, was deteriorating rapidly. She remained expressionless, but cold sweat beaded on her forehead. The weight transfer during steps was no longer smooth. She wore high heels and a heavy dress—no wonder.
"Someone should intervene..."
At one lady's murmur, another covered her mouth with a fan and let out a low sound.
"Shh. If you meddle in Buonaparte's affairs, you'll only get burned."
"But Miss Adelaide looks so exhausted."
At the sympathetic words, those around could only shake their heads. Then there was different talk.
"They don't seem to be on good terms, do they? That's not like him."
"Perhaps it's because of what happened at Salon Genobl? Miss Adelaide wagered her pension."
"What is Lord Luca doing?"
A gentleman slipped away to find the ballroom's host, Luca della Valle.
"He's indisposed."
Everyone clicked their tongues slightly.
"What about Lord Ezra?"
"The knights Lord Luca called earlier were dragging him away."
"Luca is too afraid of Prince Cesare. They're both Priori."
"But if the two of them had stayed together, there would have been another fight. And you can't pull Prince Cesare away."
"You can't. We can't afford to lose a chance to make deals with Buonaparte."
As the crowd whispered, only one person didn't speak, staring at the Buonaparte siblings. An elderly woman in her early seventies—the Dowager Princess of Torlonia, mother of the incumbent Priori Prince Torlonia. She, along with Eva Buonaparte, had been among the most formidable ladies in the social circle. But now she suffered from dementia. Today was a rare day when her symptoms weren't severe enough to prevent her from attending a ball.
She was so old she looked like a tiny fairy, and her auburn eyes were narrowed.
"...How curious."
"What is, Dowager Princess?"
The lady closest to her responded. The Dowager Princess of Torlonia spoke slowly, not taking her eyes off Cesare and Adelaide.
"Prince Cesare has finally found someone, hasn't he?"
"What do you mean?"
"Prince Cesare. I thought he would live alone all his life. Just as Eva worried."
"They're brother and sister, Dowager Princess."
The Dowager Princess tilted her head like a wooden doll on a spring.
"I don't think so."
"No, no. Miss Adelaide is Prince Cesare's sister. Oh, have you forgotten?"
"Did Prince Cesare originally have a sister?"
"She's new. From three months ago. Look—they resemble each other greatly, don't they?"
The Dowager Princess tilted her head to the other side.
"They do resemble each other greatly. Cesare is fortunate too. It took him so long to find such a lady."
"...They're not lovers, Dowager Princess."
"Not lovers?"
"Yes!"
The lady spoke a bit forcefully in her urgency. All the nobles nearby smiled awkwardly and avoided the conversation. If they misspoke, they could be accused of insulting Buonaparte.
But the Dowager Princess, affected by dementia, completely ignored the atmosphere and persisted.
"I don't think so... What brother looks at his sister like that? I know because I had an older brother. He's dead now."
At that, everyone looked at Cesare as if possessed. Cesare was executing the steps with a slight frown. His features were sharp, and his unsmiling mouth stood out. His eyes weren't full of affection—they looked like they wanted to set fire to his dancing partner.
It certainly didn't look brotherly.
To the speechless nobles, the Dowager Princess of Torlonia asked with a sneer:
"Are those two... really brother and sister?"
"......"
For a moment, conversation in that area ceased entirely. The lady realized this was a subject that shouldn't be touched and cried out urgently:
"Of course! Dowager Princess? Please stop saying such things. Come. I'll get you some lemon soup. You like it, don't you?"
"Candy? I like candy. Very much."
"Yes. Candy. Just eat one... Please understand, everyone. The Dowager Princess seems tired. It's been a long outing for her."
The Dowager Princess smiled innocently and said no more, apparently pleased to receive the lemon candy. The surrounding nobles, taken aback by her remarks, responded skillfully.
"Absolutely. The Dowager Princess of Torlonia was always a jovial person who enjoyed joking."
"That certainly hasn't changed."
But after exchanging courtesies, they glanced at the Buonaparte siblings as if by agreement. Adelaide, expressionless but clearly struggling, and Cesare, who looked down at her ruthlessly.
When Adelaide had first appeared on the social scene, all the questions that had arisen then resurfaced now.
---
Her heels were a mess. There would be blood. It was the first time since Lady Flavia's lessons.
*It's best to just let this situation flow.*
She couldn't.
Cesare, dancing across from her, glared at her with eyes like morning stars. It wouldn't have mattered if it had been just him—but oddly enough, he looked strangely unnerving.