Chapter 121 Shattered Crystal and Unspoken Invitations
My hand was pulled without warning. Prince Kurt truly had no shame. In the midst of hundreds of noble eyes staring at us with disdain, envy, and shock, I was dragged onto the main hall's dance floor. This dress made it hard to walk quickly, I almost tripped several times.
Whispers from the guests instantly filled the room. The hissing voices of the noble ladies who'd wanted to claw at me since yesterday were crystal clear in my ears. But Kurt didn't care. He simply grinned, pulling my waist closer as the orchestra began the second waltz.
Beneath the massive crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, Kurt set the rhythm of the dance with movements that were far too close. Each time we spun, my body was forced against his chest. I tried to gently push him back with my left hand, but his grip on my waist only tightened.
"Could you not hold me like we're dancing alone in your room?" I hissed, biting my lower lip, struggling to keep my composure and not step on his shoes.
Kurt chuckled, his voice clear. My face was a mess, but his was as bright as ever. He spun me again, then steered me closer to the quieter side of the hall. He lowered his head to my ear. His whisper was soft, but his words made my blood run cold.
"Leave this old-fashioned kingdom, Ilse," Kurt whispered right near my ear. His voice turned serious; the playful tone vanished. "Come with me to Thurn. Be my advisor, or anything you want."
Advisor? To Thurn? Did he think I was some kind of luggage to be carried off in a carriage?
Before I could scold him, my eyes inadvertently caught a horrifying sight near the royal throne.
Claus stood motionless, the General witnessing everything. He saw Kurt pulling me. He saw that man's hand circling my waist, how close we were. Claus's expression- God, it wasn't ordinary jealousy. It was the face of a cold-blooded killer ready to destroy a nation right then and there.
In his right hand, Claus held a crystal glass of dark red wine. He gripped it so tightly his fingers pressed mercilessly into the glass.
Crack.
The crystal glass shattered under his grip.
Thin fractures spread rapidly like spiderwebs.
Wine dripped through his fingers and spilled onto the floor like fresh blood.
But Claus didn't care. He didn't even blink.
His eyes were locked on us, sharp and dangerous, as if ready to attack Kurt at any moment.
Beside him, Prince Didier looked panicked.
His younger brother grabbed Claus's arm and whispered urgently, his face pale.
"Calm down. Don't embarrass yourself at the party," Didier said in a trembling voice, trying to pull Claus's bleeding hand away from the shards.
"Let it go. If you get angry here, Father and Mother will be furious."
Didier's warning went ignored. The intimidating aura radiating from Claus could no longer be contained.
The atmosphere around him became terrifying.
People nearby retreated in fear, leaving an empty space around the General.
Didier finally stepped aside, clutching his chest, overwhelmed by his brother's emotional pressure.
I held my breath. I had a terrible feeling. In the middle of the waltz, just as Kurt was about to finish his whisper, the sound of footsteps echoed sharply across the ballroom, barely masked by the music.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Those footsteps were unwavering. Claus began striding toward the center of the dance floor, cutting through the crowd of nobles who immediately parted in fear.