Chapter 44

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 44

Chapter Title: The Moment a Star Fell on the Count's House (5)

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"There's a fountain up ahead. Shall we sit here?"

"Sure."

There wasn't really anywhere else to sit, so I guided him to the edge of the fountain and settled him down. I sat right beside him, and water splashed against our backs from the fountain behind us.

It was pretty chilly. I huddled up and glanced at him. We were both in our nightclothes, so warmth was out of the question. I debated draping my shawl over him but hesitated. When I finally did, he shook his head and refused.

"I'm fine."

"You're barely wearing anything. It's cold—put it on."

"I don't need it. You wear it."

"...Your body's still so frail."

I grumbled worriedly, and his expression turned sour in an instant. He practically yanked the shawl off and tossed it into my lap with an irritated huff. Seeing him snap like that, he seemed to have calmed down a bit.

"Feeling better now?"

"Yeah."

"What nightmare was it this time?"

"A dream of the day I lost my sight."

What a brutally clear nightmare. I couldn't bring myself to ask more, so I shut my mouth. With the conversation dying out, only the sound of water dripping from the fountain filled the darkness. I swung my legs idly, while he stared off into space.

"I couldn't sleep either because I kept replaying what happened at the party."

"Why?"

"Because it was so much fun. That excited feeling is still lingering."

Even now, closing my eyes brought the hall into view, with classical music playing. No—even with my eyes open, it unfolded before me and the music played on. I tugged my lips into a soft smile.

"It was my first time wearing a dress like that. Actually, it was the first time I'd even seen one so beautiful. Violet said she'd give it to me as a gift, but I turned her down. It didn't feel right for me, and it was too expensive—I'd feel burdened."

"Violet has countless dresses. No one would bat an eye if you took just one."

"Still, it'd be a shame for me to wear it."

It was definitely a beautiful dress. The kind any woman would want to wear at least once. But when I wore it, it felt like its beauty wore off. If Violet had worn it, the dress would have shone even brighter.

"I'm satisfied just having tried it on."

"No greed for clothes, huh."

"It's not that I have none, but it's better if someone who suits it wears it."

Besides, even if I took it, there'd be nowhere to wear it. No one to show it to. So it'd have more value on Violet. I was truly content just having worn it once.

"Dancing was so hard, too. You have to step like this, and like that."

I fumbled through the moves Lucas had taught me earlier that day, gesturing with my feet. I even positioned my hands to show how it was done. Violet had danced well enough, Lucas and Ethan were pros, and even sightless Vincent had moved smoothly—yet it was nothing but difficult for me.

"Ugh, I feel like I'll never get it."

I got down on the ground and tried retracing the dance from the party. My feet tangled immediately. I shook my head. If it was some wild, carefree dance, I could manage—but the formal one? When I'd danced with Violet, skipping the etiquette had made it pure fun.

"But Lucas danced amazingly!"

Unlike my clumsy self, his footwork had been flawless. He led without hesitation. Following his lead made me delusionally think I was dancing well. Of course, it was just a delusion. Recalling how many times I'd stepped on his feet soured my excitement.

No, I tried my best, too. I muttered under my breath, and Vincent suddenly stood up. He thrust out his hand abruptly. My wide eyes fixed on his fingertips.

"What?"

"Give me your hand."

"Pardon?"

"Let's dance."

W-with me? I stammered without thinking. Vincent nodded.

"Why?"

"Because I want to."

"Why, though?"

"Don't you want to?"

I didn't hate the idea, but...

I hesitated, staring at his hand. I'd never learned to dance, never had the chance. Even dancing with Lucas, I'd stepped on his feet countless times. His would probably be swollen all night. Lucas tried not to show it, but I could see his pain growing over time.

I wavered, unable to take his hand easily. Vincent, waiting patiently, placed one hand behind his back and bowed slightly at the waist.

"May I have this dance?"

"..."

His unwavering emerald eyes gazed steadily at me. I fidgeted with my fingers.

"Wh-what if I step on your feet, Master?"

"I'll forgive you once."

"What about twice?"

"I'll think about it."

"For the sake of our peace, let's not. My life matters, too."

"I'm kidding. Go ahead and step."

He extended his hand further, nodding insistently for me to take it.

"I never have occasions to dance anyway. I'll just keep it as a fond memory."

"How bad are you that you're this hesitant? That insecure?"

"Yes. I really can't dance."

At this point, I answered honestly. Still, he didn't back down.

"Just follow my lead."

"I really, really can't."

"Got it. I'll go slow so you can keep up—just watch our surroundings for me. I can't see, so you'll have to guide me."

He nodded his hand again. No sign of retreat. Hurry up, his eyes urged. I swallowed dryly and looked at him. My deliberation was short yet endless. The elation from the afternoon wrapped around me once more.

I clutched my swelling chest and grasped his hand. Then I led him to the opposite side of the fountain.

Facing him, tension made me gulp repeatedly. One hand on my back, the other lifting my hand—he drew closer. I pulled back slightly from the brushing contact and placed my hand on his shoulder. Having danced once before, assuming the stance wasn't hard.

He stepped sideways. My foot clumsily followed. That was the start. Our bodies synced, twirling round and round. When he shifted one way, I mirrored him. Clumsily, but matching his rhythm. True to his word, he led me slowly.

Lucas had always directed me whenever I faltered. But Vincent didn't instruct "do this" or "that." Instead, he guided calmly, letting me follow on my own. I lagged a beat behind, but it wasn't hard to keep up.

Even so, practicing that afternoon had smoothed my steps a little. Still, no one would call it good. Plus, I wasn't in a pretty dress or elegant shoes—just a white negligee, a shawl against the cold, and cheap shoes like mine. He was in pajamas and a robe, no tails.

If anyone saw us, they might mistake us for ghosts and scream. The thought made me snicker, and Vincent furrowed his brow. As if asking why I was laughing.

"If someone saw you and me, they'd scream."

"They'd think we're ghosts."

"Yeah, hee-hee."

He seemed to picture the same, smiling faintly.

As we spun, my negligee fluttered against my skin. My gaze lifted to the starry sky, where stars were falling.

The world sparkled. Stars falling over the estate turned to chandeliers; the fountain's murmur became classical music. This was the hall, and we were dancing. No different from that afternoon's hall.

The sensations of this moment thrilled me anew.

Stars rained from the sky, enveloping us. The fabric brushing my skin, the warmth of our clasped hands, the cool breeze through my hair, the man before me—he all felt different from usual.

Everything glittered.

It was fun.

Ecstatically so.

"You're dancing well."

"You're teaching well."

"It's because you like the teacher."

"It's because the student is talented."

I shrugged. But people slip when they let their guard down. My foot pressed hard on his instep.

"Sorry!"

He winced immediately. I lifted my foot quick. But his mouth didn't forget to complain.

"Your feet are too slow."

"Praise me or criticize me—just pick one."

"I was about to praise you, but then you got careless."

"Everyone makes mistakes. You're awful."

I grumbled, and he shrugged. All the while, we kept twirling.

"Not awful—honest."

"Too much honesty kills the charm."

"My charm comes from that honesty."

"How scary to say that. Come to think of it, Violet was shocked—it was her first time seeing you grumble. How much did you pretend otherwise that no one knows your temper's so nasty?"

"Cheeky."

"Cheekiness is my charm."

"True. That's why you dare yap in front of me."

"Only because of your great tolerance, Master."

I didn't yield an inch. We both laughed. Our light chuckles echoed around. If anyone heard, they might freak and run. A man and woman giggling and spinning under the moonlight—who wouldn't?

A stronger breeze blew in. The refreshing feel made me tilt my head back. Feels good. Savoring it, I closed my eyes.

Then my body suddenly tipped.

"Hm?"

"Whoa?"

His body fell backward. I tumbled after. One losing balance toppled us in a flash. In a blink, we were sucked into the fountain.

Water flooded my nostrils. I flailed until my feet hit bottom. Exhaling the blockage triggered coughs. Coughing nonstop, tears and snot streaming, I finally came to.

Looking around, I was stunned. We'd really fallen in. How engrossed were we that we didn't notice jumping into the fountain? Vincent looked equally baffled.

"You."

"Sorry! Achoo!"

"..."

I sneezed, huddling. My clothes were soaked and heavy. The once-cool breeze now chilled. I sneezed again in bursts.

But some weren't mine. Vincent was sneezing too, huddling like me. Then I sneezed again.

We sneezed in unison, then looked at each other. We were drowned rats.

Laughter burst out.

I laughed first. Soon, he did too. Somehow, we couldn't hold it back.