Crown Prince, I hate you!

The room buzzed with murmurs and furtive glances, but my attention remained fixed on Hailon.

His expression.

His calm, unflinching gaze met mine, unwavering.

For someone raised in privilege, unaccustomed to rejection, his composed reaction was startling.

‘How can he not even flinch?’

I found it both fascinating and irritating. Part of me wanted to push further, to see if I could crack the mask he wore so effortlessly.

But I knew better.

As the daughter of the Clody family, my actions reflected on my family’s name. Every word, every gesture, would leave a mark on our reputation.

I didn’t want today’s events to tarnish our standing, so I softened my tone and spoke again.

“My apologies, Your Highness. I was so surprised by your unexpected request that I misspoke.”

“Ah, I see.”

“However, I fear my dancing skills are far inferior to your own. I wouldn’t want my lack of grace to cause you embarrassment, so I must humbly decline.”

Hailon’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression shifting into something unreadable. Though his face remained composed, there was a faint tension behind his smile, subtle yet undeniable.

It was not the expression of someone pleased.

“That doesn’t seem to be the real reason.”

“…….”

I had assumed he would take the hint and move on to another noblewoman. Yet, contrary to my expectations, he didn’t withdraw his outstretched hand.

“If you’re worried, I can guide you. There’s no need for concern.”

“What if I step on your foot…?”

“That’s fine. A single misstep won’t break it.”

“But still…”

He remained steadfast, even moving his hand closer, as though insisting I take it.

At this point, his persistence made it impossible to refuse.

Having already declined him once in front of such a large audience, repeating the rejection would only risk unnecessary harm to my family’s reputation.

Between the stakes of a single dance and the dignity of my family, the choice was clear.

With a quiet sigh, I lifted the hem of my dress slightly and lowered my head.

“…It would be an honor, Your Highness.”

Honor, my foot.

Even as I said the words, I inwardly cringed at my own duplicity. Placing my hand on his, I watched his lips curve into a satisfied smile, a small but undeniable display of triumph.

As we moved to the center of the ballroom, a soft melody filled the air, and we seamlessly fell into step.

Dancing with him, I couldn’t help but notice how familiar he still was.

His dark, midnight-black hair and piercing blue eyes—features that once captivated me.

Back then, I had thought his eyes, so similar in color to my own, were impossibly beautiful.

I hadn’t realized how sharp and cold they could turn when directed at me.

“And here I go again.”

The memories crept in, unbidden and unwelcome. Being this close to him made it impossible to ignore them. To keep them at bay, I deliberately avoided his gaze.

The music swelled, approaching its crescendo.

It was then, as we turned to face each other, that Hailon spoke.

“You’re quite… peculiar, Lady Clody.”

His words caught me off guard, and I instinctively looked up at him.

That same detached expression.

While I was inwardly fighting to keep my composure, he seemed calm, composed—like someone who had already planned every move in this game.

The thought only made my frustration rise.

I bit my lower lip lightly, feeling an odd sense of helplessness. My gaze naturally dropped to the floor, focusing on the rhythm of our steps. My shoes moved in careful coordination with his, perfectly timed and precise.

A sudden, absurd thought crossed my mind: What if I just stepped on his foot?

…?

The ridiculousness of it startled me, and my eyes widened slightly.

But then again, why not?

It wasn’t unusual for an inexperienced dancer to misstep during a waltz. If I did step on his foot, it could easily be dismissed as an accident.

In fact, after claiming I wasn’t a skilled dancer, executing the routine perfectly might raise even more eyebrows.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of my lips, unbidden and almost mischievous.

The music approached its final notes. As the melody swelled into its crescendo, bringing us closer together for the final movement—

Press.

The tip of my shoe landed squarely on Hailon’s.

My white shoe rested atop his polished black one for a brief moment before I pressed down, just slightly.

Quickly, I lifted my foot and stepped back, ensuring no one in the crowd had noticed. The act had been swift and subtle, but the satisfaction it brought was immense.

Looking up at him, I offered a sweet smile, as if nothing had happened.

The dance required a turn immediately after, spinning me away before I could fully gauge his reaction. Still, the thought of his expression—a flicker of annoyance, perhaps a crack in his composed mask—brought a quiet, fleeting laugh to my lips.

The second song’s final notes echoed through the ballroom, and we came to a stop, facing each other.

“It was a pleasure, Lady Clody.”

“The honor was mine, Your Highness.”

The exchange was perfectly polite, steeped in formality. With a graceful turn, I stepped away, moving swiftly to leave the dance floor.

The weight of countless stares bore down on me, heavier than before, their intensity pressing from every direction. But I was too drained to care and chose to ignore them entirely.

“This is it. This is truly the end.”

I thought back to the last time I had stood here, after Hailon’s coming-of-age ceremony. Shortly after, the engagement papers had arrived at my family’s estate, and my nightmare had begun the moment I signed my name.

But now I understood. If I refused to sign those papers, this could be the end of it.

The realization filled me with an odd mixture of relief and apprehension. My actions tonight—so unlike the person I once was—felt unfamiliar, even strange. And the uncertainty of what lay ahead came with its own anxieties.

But despite it all, I couldn’t stop smiling.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I dared to believe I might finally find happiness.