"…it often appears at court banquets, not typically in the more social setting of a ball, where the purpose is more about interaction than performance."
As she finished speaking, Hilda was in a retreating position, holding Eris's hand at a slight distance, their gazes meeting.
Eris, however, was looking down in a panic at the footprints on Hilda's shoes, her face a rare shade of red.
"Don't worry about your feet, Eris."
"Ah! But, Mother, your shoes…"
Hilda smiled dismissively. She remembered her own panic when she was first learning to dance. It was crucial not to let Eris feel embarrassed about stepping on her partner's feet, as that would make her want to avoid dancing altogether.
The best way to distract her was to keep feeding her new information and keep her body moving.
Ignoring the pain in her feet, she smiled and interrupted Eris.
"So, what is the more suitable dance for a ball?"
"I-I don't know! Hey!!"
Before Eris could finish, Hilda pulled on her hand, yanking the distracted girl towards her.
Her free left hand opened.
Her long, slender fingers tensed slightly, then closed.
She slowly placed her hand on Eris's waist.
Firmly.
She pulled her daughter into her embrace.
She looked down.
And met her eyes.
Eris was stunned, startled by her mother's sudden assertiveness.
At that moment, a very audible gasp came from the side.
Hilda glanced over with a smile.
Sylphie's entire face was red, her ears trembling as she covered her face.
But not completely.
Her reddish-brown eyes peeked through the gaps between her fingers, still fixed on Hilda's dancing form.
Terrified.
Extremely shy.
But her body language made it clear to everyone.
She desperately wanted to learn.
Beside her, Rudeus had a grin on his face, his eyes darting between Alan and Sylphie, lost in his own thoughts.
And what was Alan doing?
He was simply watching Eris and Hilda with a faint smile on his lips.
He felt no particular emotion, just a simple appreciation for the beautiful scene of Hilda teaching Eris. This feeling was so strong it even overrode his usual habit of keeping an eye on Sylphie's condition.
He had, of course, seen this type of dance before. It was very similar to the Waltz from his past life. With his excellent talent for swordsmanship and body coordination, he could perfectly replicate it just by watching.
He had never learned it.
But he knew how to do it.
He also knew the name of this dance, with its many close embraces, hand claps, and intimate hand-on-waist movements, which was at once relaxed, natural, and passionate.
Its name was…
"The Asuran Social Dance—the Foxtrot."
"Also known as the Dance of Love," Hilda said with a radiant smile, her gaze shifting from Sylphie back to Eris in her arms.
Eris looked flustered. She had seen Edna demonstrate it before but had chosen to flee the classroom, so her memory was limited to just having 'seen' it.
"Why is it called the 'Dance of Love'?"
Hilda slowly 'slid' to Eris's side, using her own body to lead, her arm guiding Eris's body to spin with her movements.
The first side step was large and fast, while the second follow-up step was very gentle, lightly tapping the floor.
The dress hems swayed.
Eris's feet landed precisely on Hilda's shoes, step after step.
The latter seemed completely unaware, her voice never stopping.
"Because among the nobility, this dance is the start of many marriages. While most may be driven by alliances between two families, to outsiders, it is a symbol of 'being in love.'"
Eris couldn't absorb these words, which were clearly meant for Sylphie. Although her body was being led by Hilda, the fact that she was stepping on her mother's shoes with every move made her increasingly nervous. Her body grew stiff, and her posture became more and more contorted.
And Alan, Sylphie, and Rudeus were right there watching.
The young lady's pride was screaming.
Just as she was about to use her swordsmanship to break free from Hilda's lead, Alan's voice reached her ears.
"A quick, large step. Think of it like a move from the Sword God Style. Swiftly 'swing' your leg, leading with your thigh, and land it where you want it to be."
Eris was startled, but the rapport built over the past six months of training allowed her to react instantly. At that moment, her foot was once again poised just centimeters above Hilda's shoe.
She immediately twisted her ankle and took a step back.
Hilda, hearing Alan's words, showed a flicker of surprise in her eyes. But she was an expert dancer and naturally followed Eris's step.
With an equally large and quick step, she landed beside Eris's retreated foot.
Their bodies were still close.
During this movement, Alan's voice continued, rapid yet clear.
"A light tap of the foot, a slow retraction. Use the preparatory stance of the Water God Style's 'Flow' as a reference. Feel where you want to 'parry,' and when your mind is there, naturally place your foot where you want to withdraw it. Place it down gently. This isn't a strike, it's a block. Don't be so fierce, so urgent."
Eris blinked. Before Alan had even finished speaking, this sudden connection between swordsmanship and dance steps made her instantly understand the situation and what to do next.
Her other foot lightly grazed the floor, then landed in a 'proper' standing position that felt comfortable to her.
It even had a hint of 'elegance.'
Because Alan's Water God Style was, in itself, 'elegant.'
Just as Alan often said, "If a slash can be elegant, then even death can possess a kind of beauty."
Hilda's foot then landed beside hers.
Their feet no longer stepped on the same spot.
Only the black-and-white and fiery red dresses 'collided.'
Creating a beautiful firework of black, white, and red.
Which then settled.
The hems of their dresses swayed around their legs.
They both stood still.
Still in an intimate embrace, their posture perfectly natural.
As if nothing had changed.
The rhythm of the dance.
A single beat of movement.
With Alan's verbal guidance, Eris's proactive steps, and Hilda's deliberate coordination…
Was completed.
Just like that.
A brilliant light flashed in Eris's eyes!
"Sword God Style!"
She took a large step forward.
Hilda followed with ease.
"Water God Style!"
She withdrew her foot with a light, punctuated tap.
Hilda naturally followed her movement again.
Another beat.
And again.
Another beat.
Without needing any more reminders from Alan.
The mother and daughter began to dance a waltz that, while still a bit strange, now looked like a proper dance.
Like two butterflies, one large and one small.
Their red hair scattered in the sunset glow filtering down from the stained-glass skylight.
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