Chapter 110 Claus Not Cool Anymore
Kurt's whisper was still ringing in my ears when, suddenly, the temperature around the buffet table dropped drastically. It felt like a giant block of ice had been thrown into the room.
I glanced toward the main stage—where General Claus had been sitting.
Empty.
A wave of nausea hit my stomach. I hurriedly searched for Claus among the crowd. Sure enough, the tall figure in a military cloak, matching my own outfit, was striding briskly past the nobles.
People in front of him immediately stepped aside, giving a wide path as soon as they saw Claus's icy face. His expression was tense, jaw locked, eyes fixed straight on the table where Kurt and I stood.
He looked furious. The way he exhaled sharply made it painfully obvious.
Kurt, who had just been smiling casually, waiting for my answer, frowned when he saw Claus getting closer. The Thurn prince glanced to the side, then let out a small laugh, as if he were deliberately provoking a sleeping lion.
Before I could find an excuse or hide under the buffet table, a large hand grabbed my wrist.
The grip was strong—enough to make my bone ache—but just tight enough to pull me behind his back in one quick motion. The scent of Claus enveloped me as his solid body stood between me and Kurt.
"Don't get close to him," Claus said, his voice deep, flat, and cutting to the bone. He spoke right to Kurt's face, not a hint of hesitation.
Kurt raised his hands in mock surrender. There wasn't a trace of fear on his face. Instead, he grinned wide, showing off his white teeth, and let out a deliberately annoying whistle.
"Whoa, relax, Claus," Kurt said, stepping back, arching his eyebrows in mockery. "We're just talking. No need to get so worked up. Fine, if your property's already claimed, I'll just go find another target."
Without waiting, Kurt turned on his heel and strolled away, still whistling, leaving me standing in shock behind Claus. That prince is so bizarre—causing trouble and then running off like an elite coward.
Before I could pull my hand away, Claus looked down. His eyes locked on mine, sharp as a thousand needles.
"We're dancing," Claus whispered. His voice was low, brooking no refusal.
My mind went blank. Dancing? In the middle of the main hall, with hundreds of noble eyes already glaring at me? Seriously?
"I can't dance, Claus!" I whispered in panic, trying to free my hand. "Seriously, I don't know the steps! If I step on your foot, this could turn into a disaster!" I said frantically. He only tightened his grip around my waist, pulling me even closer.
"Relax. I'll guide you," he replied shortly.
Without giving me a chance to protest or fake a faint, he pulled me into the center.
The dance floor felt like an execution ground.
As soon as we reached the middle, the soft classical music seemed to die in my ears.
Whispers broke out across the hall. People stopped moving, staring at us in disbelief.
At the far end, near the main stage, the reactions were a spectacle in themselves.
Lysandra, who had been smiling beside Didier, immediately frowned. Her fake smile vanished, her lips pressed tight, and she glared at me with open dislike.
Next to Lysandra, Prince Didier stood rigid. The crown prince's face was pale, his mouth agape, his eyes wide as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Not just Didier. The king coughed in surprise.
The empress covered her mouth with a silk fan, shaking her head.
Worst of all, in the D'Alecon family row, Claus's mother, the grand duchess, covered her face with her hand, looking like she had a headache seeing her son suddenly dragging a girl onto the dance floor.
My face was burning—I wanted to disappear from the face of the earth.
"Don't look down," Claus's voice snapped me back. One hand gripped my waist tighter, the other pulled my hand up onto his shoulder.
"Claus, I'm embarrassed," I whispered, biting my lower lip in distress. "Everyone is staring at us. I don't want to be the center of attention."
"Let them stare," Claus replied flatly, moving his feet with the music. "Focus on me."
Whether I liked it or not, I had no choice but to follow his lead. He pulled and guided me so I wouldn't misstep. At first I was stiff, but gradually the rhythm became easier thanks to his firm guidance.
But the longer I thought, the more I realized this was all wrong.
If I kept going along with this madness, Claus could get in big trouble with the imperial family for causing a scandal at the crown prince's official event.
And me? I could become the number one target of all the nobles' hatred.
I didn't want to be the center of attention.
I wanted to escape before things got even more complicated and dragged the general into even bigger trouble.
As the music neared its end and people's attention shifted to the stage, I suddenly stopped moving.
Claus frowned, turning to me as I froze. "What's wrong?"
"I want to go home, Claus," I said quickly, almost whispering but with determination.
I pulled my hand from his shoulder, slipping out of his hold before he could pull me any closer to the king's platform.
"Thank you for the dance, but I don't want you to get in trouble because of me. I don't want to be the center of attention."
Before Claus could speak or grab my hand again, I turned away. Without waiting for permission, I pushed through the crowd at the edge of the hall and hurried to the side door, escaping from the palace's main building. Prince Kurt, who had been leaning against a marble pillar, watched me go.
One of his blond eyebrows arched. An intrigued smile appeared on his lips as he watched my back slip through the side door. That unruly prince spun his wine glass, thinking that the girl in the midnight blue dress was far more interesting than the entire boring engagement party.