As the heated air cooled into something crisp, the clamor of people thronging into the banquet hall began to swell. The day before, only specially invited guests had been allowed entry, but today's ball had drawn a comparatively larger crowd. It was also the hour when the young lords and ladies, dressed up like peacocks, showed off their splendor.
The moment Luan finished another hellish grooming session and stepped through the doors of the banquet hall, a strange chill ran down his spine. Unlike the day before, the sight of the enormous hall packed to the brim with people made him freeze in spite of himself.
In truth, the splendor of this world, or the jewels the nobles had plastered all over their bodies, didn't matter much to Luan. In his past life or in his present body, his life had never been leisurely enough to spare any envy for other people's glamorous existences. That was why he'd been able to get through yesterday's proceedings without trouble, and he'd assumed today would be the same.
But his muscles seized up under the gaze of the crowd filling the hall. The instant he realized hundreds of eyes were pouring toward him all at once, the pressure stinging his skin felt suffocating.
The moment he met that enormous pressure head-on, Luan understood, with his whole body, why entertainers came down with something called stage fright. Standing in a space where hundreds of humans held their breath solely to observe him, or to tear him apart, was more terrifying than he could have imagined.
...This is no joke.
Luan's body tensed. His fingertips clenched the hem of his ceremonial robe without his meaning to, and his gaze darkened. It was a minute change, but there was no way Kirian, who'd been watching his every move from beside him, would fail to notice.
Without halting his descent down the steps, Kirian tilted his head slightly and whispered low, just loud enough for Luan alone to hear.
“Nervous, Empress?”
Luan's eyes slid sideways toward the emperor with a crooked look. I've been thrown bare-bodied into a swarm of people like this, of course I'm nervous. It was a glare loaded with silent protest. As a bonus, it seemed to carry the demand for extra pay.
Kirian tugged the corner of his lips up. “Want me to help?”
“...I'm calm now.”
As if you didn't know I was nervous. Seeing Kirian's smile, Luan's head sorted itself out. This place was not a personal affair. It was a venue of cooperation, meant to draw out a smooth divorce. Hadn't he agreed to cooperate with Kirian precisely so that no one could dig up dirt on him even after the divorce?
And on top of that, I need to secure my pay properly so it helps my comfortable retirement, even by a single coin. This was an extension of work, and for a moment it seemed he'd come down with a case of entertainer's sickness. Once he remembered where he was supposed to be and why, the tension subsided like a lie.
A contract's a contract.
Of course, crawling into the middle of a hall crammed with people was something he hated with a passion. But to collect a paycheck, one had to do the work. Luan drew in a light breath and shook off the tension. Then, leaning his body lightly against Kirian's firm forearm, he slowly descended the steps.
As the imperial couple came down alone, the crowd drew back like an ebbing tide. In an instant, a circular space opened up, and at its center stood Kirian and Luan.
A moment later, the melody that had been ringing grandly shifted to play a graceful piece in time with the two of them. By custom, the first dance of the Founding Commemoration Banquet began with the imperial couple's solo dance. Since he hadn't attended last time, this was Luan's first, and precisely because of that, it had to be done perfectly.
“Let's go.”
Kirian wrapped an arm firmly around Luan's waist and pulled him into his embrace. In that instant, with the rustle of cloth, their bodies pressed together without a gap. The emperor's solid chest met Luan's slender frame.
Kirian's eyes wavered faintly. This wasn't the man who'd been sprawled on the sofa just a short while ago in thin, comfortable everyday clothes. It was as though a delicate work of art that might shatter if he gripped it too hard was in his arms. The faint scent of powder and a body fragrance emphasized Luan's presence, and it grated on Kirian's nerves. A heat he couldn't identify boiled up in the emperor's chest.
Meanwhile, the state of Kirian, gripped by a strange tension in his embrace, didn't even register in Luan's mind. The man was in the middle of the greatest crisis of his life.
Don't I need to bow or something first?!
It had gone wrong from the very first step. Recalling the steps he'd crammed into memory, he immediately set his foot down. All his nerves were concentrated on his toes.
One, two, three, four. Now pull the left foot back here...
The expression on Luan's face as he stepped through it like a machine was deadly serious. He couldn't very well make a spectacle of stomping hard on the emperor's foot in front of hundreds of watching nobles. Fortunately he hadn't made a mistake yet, but the waist held in Kirian's grip was full of tension.
As the music swelled, the two bodies wound together more tightly. Kirian thought the body caught in his grasp was terribly slight. A firm yet thin waist, and platinum hair brushing the tip of his nose. At the body fragrance that rushed in, his breath quickened of its own accord. He'd held the name of spouse, yet not once had he been conscious of this man. But now he was this close. And that made him nervous.
And yet...
The Luan actually held in his arms wasn't paying him the slightest attention. Without offering a single word of conversation, lips pressed tight, he was staring fixedly at nothing but the floor and his own toes. The sight of him so nervous felt cute, yet somehow it stung. He felt almost peeved, maybe a little hurt. He didn't like that he seemed to be the only one fretting and getting worked up over the man.
Unable to bear it in the end, Kirian executed a graceful turn and began murmuring softly near Luan's ear, striking up conversation.
“You're so set on not even looking at my face, you look ready to bore a hole through the floor.”
“...Don't talk to me.”
“Dancing is meant to be done while conversing, you know.”
“Your Majesty, I just nearly missed the third step.”
Luan shot back low, brow faintly furrowing, as if he begrudged even the moment it took to reply. While he was exercising peak concentration to avoid stepping on the emperor's foot, the constant interference grated on him. The reproach all but bleeding into his tone made Kirian inexplicably cheerful. He said,
“It's hurtful, the one who has the emperor's first dance giving all his attention to nothing but the dancing.”
“It's because it's a first dance with that emperor that I'm like this. Just lead, would you?”
Luan lifted faintly irritated eyes. Kirian was immensely pleased that, in that moment, their gazes met. If anything, he felt the restlessness that had been tightening in his chest melt away fiercely. Lately, the way his spouse grumbled at him as though increasingly at ease, those vivid reactions, were addictive. Unable to resist, Kirian chuckled low and curved his eyes.
Every time Luan, with all his nerves concentrated on his toes, made the faintest welling-up expression, Kirian would quicken the pace of the dance or whisper ceaselessly to disrupt him. Each time the man jerked his head up to protest and his steps tangled, it was more fun than expected.
To the eyes of those with no way of knowing the two's secret circumstances(?), this scene felt like a fantasy from an entirely different dimension.
The emperor, head bent tenderly near the empress's ear, ceaselessly whispering something sweet. The empress, turning his head slightly as if shy at the emperor's words, reacting with prim demureness. The dance of two people pressed perfectly close as if refusing to allow even the smallest gap, dominating the hall with a single shared breath, was the very picture of a couple of lovers for the ages, yearning for each other.
A sham marriage, this?
It was a scene exuding far too much warmth and a rosy aura. At that intimate display, the nobles who'd ground their teeth and insisted it was the emperor's scheme, and even Requies, were watching their own faces change in real time.
“You're like a newborn fawn.”
“I'm well aware my steps are a mess.”
“I mean it as 'adorable,' you know?”
Has this man lost his mind? At the insolent glare, Kirian laughed cheerfully again. In that moment, neither of them paid any mind to who was thinking what as they watched. With no idea what kind of misunderstanding and delusion was filling the hall, Luan was still just keeping every sense sharply trained on his toes.
