Viola didn’t get a moment of rest once their dance ended. The moment Ludger stepped back, the crowd surged in with polite smiles and eager eyes, each person waiting for their turn like wolves wearing embroidered silk.

  First was Torvares himself, proud as a king escorting his heir across the floor. Viola brightened, slipping into the role of beloved granddaughter with practiced ease. After him came Arslan, who looked painfully stiff in noble clothing but still managed to guide her through the steps without stepping on anyone’s feet. She laughed with him warmly, the kind of soft laughter she only had for family.

  Then came the nobles.

  They lined up, each one wanting a moment of her time: sons of influential houses, daughters of allies seeking favor, minor lords hoping she’d remember them in ten years. Viola handled each of them effortlessly, her posture regal, her words sharp but kind.

  And Ludger watched every single one. He stood near a wall, hands behind his back, senses spread out through the ground like an invisible web. His eyes followed her movements, but even before that, his seismic sense told him everything. Heartbeats. Footsteps. Nervous twitches. Hidden excitement. False confidence.

  Eventually, after far too long lingering at the edge of the room, Lucius Hakuen finally took a breath so deep it could’ve been a drowning man surfacing, and approached Viola.

  Ludger felt the tension spike through Lucius’s chest before the boy even opened his mouth.

  “Lady Viola,” Lucius said, voice steadier than his pulse, “may I have this dance?”

  Viola smiled politely, genuine enough to be kind, sharp enough not to mislead. She accepted, and Lucius nearly tripped in relief before getting his act together. They danced, and Ludger watched the young noble speak rapidly, likely trying to say everything he had rehearsed over and over.

  She didn’t flinch. She didn’t blush. She didn’t get caught off guard even once.

  Good, Ludger thought, a small thread of satisfaction running through him.

  She was unfazed, just as he planned.

  Because earlier, while they danced, he had told her the words that could have faltered the hearts of most women. Most people only have one strong reaction to something shocking. After that, hearing it again is just repetition, not surprise.

  So when Rufas Dalmoren stepped forward next, speaking with the calm authority of a noble destined for leadership, Viola handled it with grace. She answered his questions smoothly, matched his pace, even teased him once or twice without letting him know she was doing it.

  Ludger could practically see the frustration building among the nobles as each failed to make her flinch or blush or lose her composure.

  Mission accomplished, he thought.

  He leaned against the stone pillar behind him, letting his seismic sense spread again. Everything was still calm. No attacks. No suspicious presences. Just too many hormones and too much perfume clustered in one place.

  Across the ballroom, Viola glanced briefly toward him between partners. just a split-second look. She didn’t need to say anything. Ludger already knew she wasn’t overwhelmed, wasn’t startled, and wasn’t being cornered by scheming nobles. Because he’d made sure she entered this night unshakeable. And she carried herself as if nothing in the world could catch her off balance.

  Ludger finally pushed himself off the wall, the applause fading behind him as the musicians shifted to another gentle melody. His steps looked casual, unhurried, almost lazy, but each one was deliberate. He walked through the ballroom with an odd pattern, tracing lines nobody else would notice, gradually tightening a circle.

  He wasn’t heading anywhere in particular. He was herding someone.

  And every time he took a backward step, the presence he’d been tracking all night shifted just a little too late. Ludger smirked to himself.

  Got you.

  With one last backward step, he stopped. His heels touched the corner of a column, and a soft huff of breath sounded directly behind him.

  Luna, Viola’s shadow, oldest friend, maid, and assassin, stood with her back to the wall, eyes narrowed in resignation. If she hadn’t spent the entire night weaving through everyone’s blind spots, using every piece of scenery as cover, she might have escaped.

  But Ludger knew her patterns just as well as she knew how to disappear.

  She wore a simple yellow dress, not overly fancy, but elegant in its plainness. The skirt was loose enough to hide a dozen knives, and knowing Luna, she had at least half that number strapped to her thighs. Her hair was done neatly, her posture precise, her expression unreadable.

  And despite it all, she was actually… very pretty. Not that she cared. She didn’t want attention tonight, or ever.

  Which made it even easier to hide. Until now. Luna let out a small, defeated sigh.

  “…First time someone’s cornered me by walking backwards,” she muttered.

  Ludger turned just slightly, meeting her eyes with his usual deadpan calm. “If you wanted to escape, you would have.”

  She clicked her tongue softly, annoyed not at him, but at the fact he was right.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “Maybe. But it’s your sister’s birthday. I thought I’d let you have your fun.”

  “You’ve been hiding from me since the start of the party,” Ludger said.

  “That’s part of my job,” Luna replied, her tone flat as ever. “You disappearing for days tends to make me… cautious. Can’t let others be better than me at that.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” Ludger said, eyes dropping briefly to the knives barely visible under her dress. “You’re dressed like someone who actually wanted to relax for once.”

  A faint flush touched her cheeks, barely noticeable unless you knew her.

  “…Don’t start,” she warned.

  But her voice wavered just a little. Not with fear. With embarrassment.

  Ludger crossed his arms. “Viola wants you on the dance floor at least once.”

  Luna stiffened. “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “It’s a birthday command.”

  She chewed her inner cheek, visibly annoyed. “She put you up to this?”

  “Obviously. I am a guy who can read the mood, if a girl says no to me, I wouldn’t insist.”

  Luna pressed her back harder against the wall, almost like she hoped it would swallow her whole.

  “…Fine,” she said eventually, the resignation palpable. “But only one dance. And if you step on my feet, I’m breaking yours.”

  Ludger smirked. “Deal.”

  Luna exhaled like a soldier preparing for death. But she took his hand anyway.

  They stepped onto the floor, and Luna moved like someone trying to make herself smaller despite having nowhere left to hide. The moment Ludger guided her into the first turn of the dance, dozens of eyes, curious nobles, surprised guards, sharp-eyed merchants, finally noticed the girl who had been a ghost all evening.

  And Luna hated it.

  Her jaw tightened. Her shoulders tensed. The faint flicker in her eyes was pure frustration, not fear, just the irritation of someone whose entire profession depended on never being seen.

  But she didn’t voice a single complaint. Her grip stayed steady, her posture perfect, her expression the same calm mask she always wore when she chose obedience over comfort.

  Ludger leaned in just enough for only her to hear.

  “Relax,” he murmured. “You can do that at least tonight.”

  Luna’s lips tightened. “I can’t. You know I can’t. My job is to never drop my guard.”

  Ludger’s reply came without hesitation, simple, plain, and delivered like he was stating the weather.

  “You can relax when I’m around.”

  Luna actually stumbled, just a half-step, barely noticeable, but for her it might as well have been tripping down a staircase. Her eyes snapped up to his, wide and startled, as if she wasn’t sure she heard him correctly.

  Then Ludger continued, completely unfazed: “Because I’m the one who’s the most on guard right now. And if anyone tries anything, I’ll sink them into the ground.”

  Luna let out a long, slow sigh… the kind that said she wasn’t sure if she wanted to scold him or laugh.

  The stare she gave him was a mix of relief and exasperation. Trust, but never say it out loud. That had always been her rule.

  And Ludger had bulldozed right over it. He hid his satisfaction poorly. A slow, sharp grin crept up his face, subtle but unmistakable. He’d found a new hobby. Dual-meaning sentences that made people lose composure. Still, he had to be cautious with those, he didn’t want to play with people’s hearts.

  Luna narrowed her eyes at him, cheeks faintly warm, and muttered under her breath: “…I shouldn’t have agreed to this dance.”

  But she didn’t let go of his hand. And she didn’t try to disappear again.

  When the last notes of the song trailed off, Luna stepped back with a precision that almost looked rehearsed. Her bow to him was small, controlled, and formal—too formal, actually. The kind someone used when they were trying to maintain dignity while every instinct screamed at them to flee.

  And then she walked away.

  Or rather, she pretended to walk away.

  Each step was measured, gliding, slow enough that she looked composed… but Ludger could see the tension in her shoulders, the tightness in her fingers, the way her gaze kept flicking toward the edges of the room as she planned her escape route.

  Three steps later, she moved past a large window.

  That was all she needed.

  The exact instant the frame entered her reach, Luna shifted her weight, smooth, silent, and vanished through the window in a blur of yellow fabric and assassin discipline. One heartbeat she was there, the next she was already halfway across the garden. Ludger blinked once.

  “…Figures,” he muttered under his breath. “Natural enemy of attention successfully neutralized.”

  He turned around, ready to return to quietly stalking threats through the ballroom, and froze when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder.

  A tap he recognized instantly. A tap far more unsettling than any assassin, noble, spy, or berserker he had ever fought. Slowly, very slowly, Ludger pivoted.

  His mother stood there, elegant in her dress, hands folded politely in front of her. Elaine’s smile was warm… but had the unmistakable glint of a winter storm hidden behind it.

  A smile that meant: You’ve messed up, son… I just haven’t decided by how much yet.

  Ludger swallowed. “Oh-oh?”

  Elaine’s smile deepened. “Oh-oh indeed.”

  He raised both hands a little, as if surrendering. “Let me guess. I dropped the ball by not dancing with you second, Mom?”

  “You could say that,” she replied, voice as smooth and calm as the calm before a hurricane.

  He winced inwardly.

  “But,” she continued, “I will forgive you this once… for making that girl’s night.”

  Ludger blinked, genuinely surprised. “I did? If she truly enjoyed it, she wouldn’t have escaped like the wind the moment the window got close.”

  Elaine chuckled softly, giving him a knowing look. “Women are complicated, Ludger.”

  Ludger sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I used to think dark matter was complicated, something impossible to understand.”

  “Oh? What is dark matter?” Elaine arched an eyebrow.

  He nodded solemnly. “But women? They’re mysteries logic can’t solve. There’s no formula. No pattern. No sense.”

  Elaine laughed, really laughed, and for a moment looked far younger, far lighter.

  She extended a hand toward him, the amusement still dancing in her eyes.

  “Come now. Dance with your mother. Properly this time. And try not to step on my feet.”

  Ludger huffed through his nose, half exasperated, half resigned. “No promises. But I’ll try.”

  He took her hand, and Elaine, stronger than she looked and more terrifying than any noble, guided him toward the dance floor, leaving behind only the faint scent of dessert and a hundred pairs of eyes watching the infamous vice guild master try to survive something far harder than a labyrinth: a mother’s expectations.