"How did the chatting go? See anyone you like?" Richard teased.
Clorinde gave him a faint, almost wistful look.
'After you've seen gold and jade, how could rusty scrap iron ever stir your heart?'
Besides, those so-called "young elites" looked like they hadn't trained in ages. Sure, some had abs, but all nine became one, and most of them were past thirty. Their speech was slick and greasy, the kind that made her skin crawl. Clorinde disliked them, but for the sake of etiquette, she endured.
'Next time there's a banquet, I'm wearing my usual clothes again,' she thought.
She had barely walked a few steps before another man, enchanted by her beauty, started following her, convinced of his own charm.
Out of respect for Furina's divine presence, he didn't dare speak up. He simply stood nearby, wine glass in hand, imagining himself the perfect gentleman.
Surely, he thought, such restraint would move the lady's heart.
If only he knew what occupied Clorinde's mind right now was pectoral muscles, abs… and every other muscle group.
Richard also noticed how, with Clorinde's arrival, the male-to-female ratio around them had suddenly shifted. The entire focus of the hall was subtly tilting in her direction.
He turned to Furina beside him; she was still dazed from their earlier teasing, her expression adorably blank.
After a short pause, he asked Clorinde, "Anything else?"
Clorinde blinked.
'Wait, is he trying to send me away?'
To Richard, it was only logical. With so many eyes glued to her, how was he supposed to continue working Furina's reactions if Clorinde kept drawing attention?
He had considered teasing Clorinde a bit, too, but seeing the crowd, he decided against it. Instead, he kindly reminded her:
"There'll be a dance segment later. Have you found a partner yet?"
Clorinde froze again. Richard smiled. "Weren't you the one who organized the banquet? Don't you know?"
Indeed, she was. But she hadn't planned to join the dancing.
If it were an honorary duel, sure, but dancing? That was torture for Fontaine's most stoic Duelist.
At previous banquets, Clorinde's icy demeanor and lack of a gown had kept her mostly invisible. Nobody dared invite her.
Tonight, however, things were different, and she knew the upcoming dance would be the most troublesome part of the evening.
She cast a pleading look at Richard, hoping for salvation.
Richard caught her gaze and subtly pointed toward the corner of the room. Clorinde followed his eyes. Lynette was there, quietly sipping tea.
When Lynette noticed, she even waved her spoon in greeting.
Richard's message was clear: Sorry, I already have a partner.
As for Furina, she usually didn't dance.
She observed from the sidelines, sometimes acting as a judge to choose the "Star of the Evening."
After all, even the most shameless man wouldn't dare invite the Hydro Archon as a dance partner.
Clorinde suspected Richard was using Lynette as an excuse just to laugh at her misery.
A banquet dance had multiple rounds; he could've danced one with her first, then switched to Lynette.
That would've let her claim she'd already danced and gracefully refuse further invitations.
"Then maybe after you finish with Lynette…" Clorinde tried to reserve a slot.
But Richard sighed. "After one dance, I'll probably be tired."
Clorinde: "…"
He'd stolen the words she was planning to use herself.
Still, Clorinde wasn't who she used to be. Her mind worked fast now.
If Richard hated attention, then all she needed to do was publicly invite him later.
'Would he dare refuse, in front of everyone?'
After all, it would draw less attention if they danced at the start than if she called him out mid-ball. She could just say they'd arranged it earlier.
Clorinde subtly conveyed this with her eyes.
Richard chuckled. "Clorinde, I think you've misunderstood something."
"What do you mean?" she asked, wary.
He smiled faintly, that familiar scheming smile she knew too well. Whenever Richard wore that expression, it meant trouble.
"I said I don't like being the center of attention. I didn't say I can't be. And even if you invite me, I can refuse. In fact…" he leaned closer, his voice smooth, "I think the crowd would prefer that."
He wasn't wrong.
When someone confesses to the person you love, do you hope they accept or get rejected?
Unless you're a hopeless simp, most people prefer rejection.
If Richard refused her, the crowd would gossip about why, then hurry to seize their chance.
Clorinde realized her plan had backfired. Of course, if Richard were that easy to manipulate, he wouldn't be Richard.
With a small sigh, she thought about simply refusing all invitations outright. She didn't need a dance partner, nor did she owe anyone courtesy.
She was not only the strongest Duelist in Fontaine but also Furina's personal secretary.
No one could force her to dance against her will.
Well, except maybe Richard.
Because, truthfully, if he asked her to dance… she wouldn't mind.
After all, dancing involved contact.
One hand clasped, the other resting on the man's chest…
Even through layers of fabric, it still counted, right?
Like eating cake through a plastic wrapper, it wasn't perfect, but it worked.
A feast for the imagination, at least.
Richard glanced at Clorinde, who was clearly daydreaming. He sighed.
'People's hearts have scattered. Hard to lead the team these days.'
Clorinde was becoming trickier; she even dared to threaten him now, and apparently, she had designs on his body too.
Ever since that day she saw him shirtless, her gaze toward him had changed. She looked at him more often, and the look was no different from how men were staring at her now, filled with desire and admiration.
He couldn't help but marvel at it.
He'd been pursued before, for his power, his wealth, his looks, but never quite like this.
Lynette and Furina liked him for who he was.
His appearance was a bonus, not the foundation.
But Clorinde? She was utterly fixated on his physique.
Before seeing it, she'd treated him as a friend.
After seeing it… something had flipped in her mind.
Now she clearly wanted that friendship to "evolve."
After all, admiring someone's biceps and abs wasn't exactly platonic behavior.
The ball soon began.
Richard politely declined numerous invitations and took Lynette's hand instead.
Lynette, determined not to embarrass herself, switched off her usual "energy-saving mode" and even spoke a few more words than usual.
While Richard was a popular partner, Clorinde's side was an outright storm; she was besieged by suitors.
Some men even ditched their original partners to chase her, only to be caught and humiliated on the spot.
Clorinde didn't waste words.
She flatly rejected them all, "I can't dance, and I don't want to. Please, gentlemen, find another lady."
Seeing her firm stance, the men reluctantly backed off, some deciding to show off their moves in the center instead, hoping she'd notice.
But she didn't.
From the start of the ball to its end, her eyes stayed fixed on one man, Richard.
And so did Furina's.
She watched him and Lynette move gracefully across the floor, and in her mind… she saw herself in Lynette's place.
For a brief moment, her gaze held envy, then longing.
It had been a long time since she'd danced.
With her talent, she'd learned by simply watching, and after four hundred years of watching, she knew the steps by heart.
"Lady Furina… Lady Furina…"
Her name being called snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned to see Clorinde beckoning.
The ball was ending, and everyone was waiting for Furina to announce the "Star of the Night."
But she'd spent the whole event watching one person and hadn't paid attention to anyone else.
Fortunately, Furina was experienced.
She smoothly handed the decision to the audience instead, democracy in motion, as expected of the Hydro Archon.
The chosen winners were an elderly count and countess.
Furina congratulated them warmly. The countess, starstruck, even asked for her autograph, saying she had grown up watching Furina's performances.
Furina wasn't surprised. Most of Fontaine had grown up seeing her, whether in the opera house or the public trials, which required no tickets to attend.
As the evening wound down, guests began leaving.
Clorinde changed back into her familiar Duelist uniform, finally breathing easy, though even now, a few admirers tried to invite her to "continue the evening."
She firmly refused.
"I already have someone I care for," she said. "Save your peacock displays for someone else."
"Lady Furina, you don't have anything else planned later, right?" Richard asked.
Furina looked between Richard and Clorinde, uncertain of his intent, but curious.
"No more appointments, my lady," Clorinde answered with a small smile.
Returning to her role as secretary was much more comfortable than fending off suitors.
"In that case," Richard said softly, "why don't we stay a bit longer?"
Though Furina didn't know what he was planning, she nodded.
Once the hall had mostly emptied, Richard bowed gracefully and extended his hand.
"Lady Furina," he said with a faint smile, "may I have this dance?"
Her eyes widened; she hadn't expected that. Reflexively, she placed her hand in his.
"You… why the sudden invitation?"
"Would you like the romantic lie," he asked, "or the mood-killing truth?"
Before she could answer, he continued:
"I've always wanted to see you dance. I imagine it must be breathtaking. And to share that dance myself would make it even more so."
Then he added casually,
"And honestly, Lady Furina, you've been staring at me all evening. It was written all over your face, 'I want to dance too.' As your subordinate and friend, I couldn't possibly ignore that wish."
Finally, he added with a grin,
"The first part was the romantic lie. The second part was the mood-killer."
'I can tell!' Furina pouted and stomped on his foot.
Across the hall, near the gramophone, Lynette and Clorinde watched the pair dance.
They exchanged a look, each seeing the same complicated emotion in the other's eyes.
Lynette thought, 'As expected, Lady Furina really likes Richard.'
Clorinde thought, 'The way her hand's on his chest… looks perfect. I want to try that. I wonder what it feels like…'
Unable to resist, she turned to Lynette and whispered:
"So… how did it feel?"
Lynette: "???"
'Wait, there's another expert?!'