As the rhythmic rise and fall of jazz music filled the air, the atmosphere of the banquet hall became increasingly vibrant and joyful.
A group of lavishly dressed noblewomen stood up from their seats, elegantly making their way to the open space in the center. The gentlemen, equally well-dressed, rose from their seats and took the ladies into their arms, beginning to dance gracefully in the soft and dim lighting.
A somewhat tactless young man approached Wendy.
"May I have this dance?" he asked politely.
"With me? A dance?" Wendy was momentarily confused.
"Yes, miss. May I invite you to be my dance partner?" The young man gave a courteous bow. Judging from his manners, he was clearly a young noble.
Wendy didn't know how to refuse. What do I do? I don't know how to dance...
She looked to Carla first, but Carla only shook her head helplessly. This was something Wendy had to handle herself. After all, the invitation was directed at her. If Carla intervened now, it could create a scene or cause unnecessary complications.
Left with no other choice, Wendy turned to Noel for help. She gave him a gentle kick to get his attention. Noel, seeing the troubled look on her face, immediately understood the situation.
He had been quietly surveying the hall until then, but now stepped forward.
"Apologies, but this young lady already has a partner," Noel said, stepping protectively in front of Wendy.
The young noble looked disappointed. "What a shame."
Noel then turned to Wendy and held out his hand like a true gentleman. "Miss Wendy, may I have this dance?"
"Noel... I don't know how to dance," Wendy said worriedly. "What if I step on you?"
"Just follow my lead. We'll only dance a short while," Noel assured her.
Wendy realized that Noel had just helped her out of another awkward situation, and this dance invitation was part of that. After a moment's hesitation, she placed her hand in his.
Together, they walked toward the center of the dance floor.
Noel, however, felt a bit of pressure—Wendy had absolutely no knowledge of dancing, so the rhythm and direction would all have to come from him.
He reminded himself: I can't mess this up. If I do, we'll become the laughingstock of the entire banquet.
"Don't be nervous. Even if you step on me, it's fine. Just try to keep the rhythm," he told Wendy gently, giving her a brief pep talk before they began.
Wendy nodded. She felt her nerves settle a bit. After all, she had someone dependable leading the way.
Noel began to move his feet, and Wendy followed. The two of them managed to keep in decent sync at first. But as the tempo picked up, Wendy started to lose track of the rhythm—perhaps because Noel's movements were too fast.
Realizing this, Noel slowed down.
Still, the inevitable happened—Wendy stepped on his foot.
"I'm so sorry, Noel!" she gasped, flustered.
"It's alright. Don't worry about the little things. Just keep focused on my movements," Noel said with a teacher's patience.
"I'll try my best!" Wendy said with determination.
After that brief hiccup, Wendy's movements began to grow more graceful. She started keeping up with Noel's steps, and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
With Wendy adapting well to his rhythm, Noel could now lead more easily. Her steps grew lighter, more agile, and increasingly in tune with his.
If it weren't for that earlier misstep, Noel might have believed Wendy was a noble lady who regularly attended such soirées—but clearly, she was not.
"You're doing really well. Keep going like this," Noel praised her.
Wendy blushed. This was her first formal dance, and yet here she was, dancing in the center of the hall. It felt like a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Gradually, Noel began guiding her through more intricate movements. Wendy, growing bolder, followed along. The two moved like seasoned partners—sometimes bowing, sometimes gazing at one another, their feet dancing in harmony.
So graceful and poised, yet carrying an undercurrent of wistful emotion.
As the music reached its climax, Noel suddenly lifted Wendy into the air. In that instant, the two of them became the focal point of the entire banquet.
A perfect landing followed. Their previously smooth waltz shifted into an upbeat dance.
Everyone else on the dance floor stopped.
Only Noel and Wendy continued dancing—captivating every guest in the hall.
But the two were unaware of the attention. Lost in the moment, they simply enjoyed the joy of the dance.
Finally, the music came to an abrupt end. The two struck a perfect final pose.
Thunderous applause erupted.
Surrounded by the cheers and admiration of the crowd, they completed their dance.
Wendy suddenly realized that it felt good to be seen—applauded and appreciated by others. For the first time in a long while, she felt a spark of confidence.
Maybe… there are things I can do well too.
Both dancers were drenched in sweat but exhilarated. It had been a long time since Noel had enjoyed himself like this. Though he often attended banquets, he rarely danced. Fortunately, he had practiced in the past—and that practice had finally paid off.
The two returned to their table. Carla stared intently at Wendy, feeling something had changed.
"What is it, Carla? Do I have something on my face?" Wendy asked curiously.
"I don't know... I just feel like you've become a little more confident," Carla replied.
"Really?" Wendy asked, lowering her head bashfully.
"Guess not," Carla said sternly, but then added, "But that dance really was impressive."
"Really?" Wendy's eyes sparkled with excitement.
Carla gave her a firm nod.
Meanwhile, Noel fetched two glasses of juice—one for himself, one for Wendy.
"You must be thirsty," he said, handing her a glass.
Wendy took the drink and sipped it slowly.
"The last part of the dance was amazing," Noel said, unable to hold back his praise.
Hearing everyone's compliments, Wendy grew even more bashful. What's going on today? So many people are praising me… but it feels kind of nice!
"The banquet's almost over," Noel reminded her. "But we can't leave just yet—it's basic etiquette."
Wendy nodded. She understood that attending a banquet meant following its social customs.
She sat upright with poise. Carla, meanwhile, shot a disdainful glance at the other noble ladies—likely still haunted by how terrifying they'd been earlier.
Noel continued scanning the hall, remaining alert for anything unexpected.
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Author's note: The chapter title is a tribute to Haruki Murakami. Any fellow fans of his work out there?
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