Everything is going according to plan

Things were going so smoothly it almost made one want to jump for joy.

Mosoren struggled to contain his excitement.

Yes, they were in public, and he knew this was the moment to display gentlemanly grace.

But looking at the timid, delicate elf girl standing before him,

who could possibly keep the beast inside their heart under control?

“Miss Timos, please don’t worry. With me by your side, you will surely become the most beautiful flower blooming in this entire ball.”

“Then… I’ll be in your care, Mr. Mosoren.”

Seeing the faint smile that quietly appeared on Timos’s face, and completely missing the deeper meaning beneath that smile, Mosoren eagerly grabbed her hand.

Ah… the hand of a High Elf!

Soft, warm, delicate…

—Yeah, right.

Mosoren’s mind filled with question marks.

What he felt was more like gripping the edge of a wooden training dummy in his family’s dueling arena.

The texture was hard and cold, not much different from a coffin lid.

Even if she was wearing gloves,

those were clearly silk gloves.

Why did they feel rough and stiff like dried tree bark?

Watching the noble young master standing there in confusion thanks to her substitution spell,

Timos secretly snickered.

What an idiot.

And you thought you could touch me?

To High Elves, most humans looked the same way humans looked at monkeys.

And this noble young master didn’t even qualify as a monkey.

At best, he was just a toad dreaming of eating swan meat.

For Timos,

only Loya was different from these humans drowning in such crude desires.

Still, since Teacher had personally asked her,

she naturally had to move things along.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Mosoren?”

Timos asked knowingly.

“Uh… n-no, nothing.”

Mosoren was starting to sweat slightly.

“It’s just… Miss Timos, your hand…”

“I’m sorry. I get very nervous. When I’m nervous, my whole body becomes stiff like wood or stone. I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to trouble you, Mr. Mosoren.”

Her voice turned small and soft.

Timos lowered her head shyly, her elegant nose bridge almost overwhelmed by the oversized glasses frame.

“Ah, it’s fine, it’s fine.”

Mosoren smiled with relief.

So that’s how High Elf hands feel…

Wait.

If she felt nervous around the opposite s*x, didn’t that mean she had some feelings for him?

The young master secretly grew even more pleased with himself.

But the smug satisfaction he thought he had hidden well

was completely obvious to Timos.

Those emerald-green eyes looked at him now as if he were a clown—a man who believed her random lies and still felt proud of himself.

Uh-oh.

She almost couldn’t hold back her laughter and nearly lost control of the smile she was performing.

“Then please follow my movements, Miss Timos. Watch my steps. Of course, I’ll slow the rhythm for you.”

“Okay.”

Timos answered sweetly.

The young master’s heart immediately skipped a beat.

Finally holding the hand of the beautiful elf girl he had been dreaming about day and night,

Mosoren straightened his back.

Even his steps carried a hint of showing off.

From an outsider’s perspective, the two of them looked like an exceptionally attractive pair of dance partners.

Whether the elf maiden or the noble young master, both were enviable figures.

But Kalandria inwardly despised the scene to the extreme.

To think this hanger-on was the younger brother of the Knight King.

Yet he turned out to be nothing more than a lust-driven fool.

He truly disgraced the Holy Sword family.

She didn’t pay it much attention.

Right now, her focus was mostly on Loya.

Actually, Kalandria couldn’t quite understand something.

Loya surely wasn’t blind to that lecherous young master’s intentions.

So why had he allowed Timos to dance with someone like that?

But as she watched more carefully,

Kalandria suddenly noticed something.

On Loya’s face, which appeared calm and unreadable,

when his eyes occasionally narrowed while looking at Timos and Mosoren, a sharp glint of calculation flickered through them.

Could it be…that this man was plotting something again?

Kalandria couldn’t figure it out.

“Hey, what are you spacing out for? Timos is already on the floor. Don’t think you can run away.”

She deliberately spoke up, both reminding him and testing him at the same time.

Loya nodded.

“Mm.”

Seeing his perfunctory reaction made Kalandria even more annoyed—and slightly impatient.

“What do you mean ‘mm’? If you understand, then hurry up and take my hand!”

Kalandria walked a few steps forward first.

Then she turned gracefully on her toes and extended her silk-gloved hand toward Loya.

“Everyone is still waiting to watch, you know…”

“Yes, yes.”

In previous loops of time, Loya had danced with Kalandria before.

Although he was already tired of being treated like decorative trim to highlight her brilliance, right now getting closer to the Holy Sword family remained the priority.

He didn’t want unnecessary trouble at the ball.

Besides, this was a good opportunity.

If he danced normally but tripped Kalandria up a little along the way, then compared to her, Timos would shine even more brightly.

Letting Kalandria become the foil would naturally make his student appear far more charming.

With a rough plan forming in his mind,

Loya reached out and took the young lady’s fingertips.

Seeing him accept without hesitation, Kalandria blinked rapidly.

Still, she wasn’t about to lose her composure over something like that.

She naturally hooked her arm around Loya’s.

The two of them walked together to the center of the hall.

The music hadn’t actually grown louder, yet somehow it suddenly sounded much clearer in that moment.

When Mosoren saw the annoying young lady of the Lewincete family enter the dance floor as well, his spirits instantly rose.

Even though she was technically a lady, her arrogant attitude had long made him want to humble her.

And now—wasn’t the perfect chance right here?

Both of them were leading partners who didn’t know how to dance.

If he danced better than that pair, wouldn’t that prove he was superior?

Even the smallest victory meant a great deal to a noble’s pride.

Like stepping onto a battlefield,

Mosoren displayed every ounce of gentlemanly grace he had accumulated in his life.

“Come, Miss Timos. Match your steps to my rhythm—”

“Mm…”

Timos obediently nodded on the surface.

Inside, she was full of mockery.

You don’t seriously think I’m going to honestly dance with you, do you?

Just as Mosoren lifted his hand to guide her into a spin,

Timos raised her head—

and a faint, eerie gleam flickered in her eyes.

The young master merely thought the elf girl’s eyes had become even prettier.

He had no idea what had just happened.

The next second,

his raised wrist suddenly cramped for no reason.

“Ah?!”

In pain, the young master instinctively pulled his hand back.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Mosoren?”

Seeing him stop moving, Timos asked with feigned concern.

“Ah, n-nothing.”

Mosoren forced an awkward smile.

“L-let’s continue…”

More than the strange cramp, what worried him most were the judging eyes of the banquet guests around them.

He had been the one to invite the honored guests to dance.

If he failed to perform well,

wouldn’t he become a laughingstock?

Mosoren could not accept that possibility.

So he quietly glanced around.

Fortunately, no one seemed overly concerned about the small mistake.

However, what Mosoren failed to notice was the faint, ill-intentioned smile that briefly curled at the corner of his elf partner’s lips—before disappearing in an instant.