Kapitel 21: A Lady With A Lady (Part 2)

BEEP!

— [MAJOR TASK ALERT!]

— [Task Description: Develop Relationship With Faeralys By Learning How to Dance With Her Under Madam Phirya's Imperial Decorum Subject]

— [Rewards: ?]

Argider stood before her latest challenge: a dance lesson with Faeralys. It wasn't the task she'd expected, and normally, she'd have balked. But something had shifted.

The thought of touching Faeralys's waist, of twirling her around and catching those fleeting, flustered expressions on her face? Oh, yes, she thought with a small grin. It was a form of torture, certainly—but an oddly pleasurable one.

For once, Argider was grateful she was currently in a woman's body. If she were still a man, there might be something poking out between her legs.

"You lecherous simpleton," Alvator's spat. "I can practically feel your depravity from here."

'Oops,' she thought back, cheeks flaming as she forced her mind to focus on the lesson at hand.

Finally, Argider walked up to Madam Phirya, who looked more exhausted than a woman should after a mere etiquette lesson.

She almost felt a pang of pity—almost. She still remembered those "corrections" Phirya had dealt her, each "tap" that felt like an unholy mixture of sledgehammer and lightning bolt.

Still, she cleared her throat politely to get Phirya's attention.

"Madam Phirya, I wanted to apologize for my recent… shortcomings," she began, offering her most sincere smile. "But I do intend to improve. I'd like to complete your lessons, really immerse myself in them, and to show my earnestness… I'll be learning with Faeralys."

"What? Me?" Faeralys sputtered, wide-eyed and pointing to herself as if Argider had just nominated her for a public execution.

"You want to… practice with her?" Phirya repeated, more than a little surprised.

Argider nodded, attempting her best impression of a dutiful, devoted spouse. "Yes, Madam Phirya. As her wife, it's my duty to help Faeralys be the best lady she can be." A flicker of mischief entered her smile. "After all, with your teaching, we may yet emerge the epitome of ladylike grace. No escaping this time."

"Oh no, this is ridiculous!" Faeralys crossed her arms, glowering. "Don't I get a say in this?"

"Oh, nonsense, child," Phirya chided, waving a dismissive hand. "This is for your own good. Palace life is nothing like the wilderness where you've been running wild. People are watching. Everyone is watching." Her stern gaze bore down on them both. "And it's about time someone held you accountable."

Argider plastered on a saintly smile. "I must admit, I've missed spending time with Faeralys," she said with as much sincerity as she could summon. "She is, after all, my wife. It's only right that I support her."

Faeralys's face immediately turned pink, her eyes darting away, lips pressed together in an effort not to show any reaction.

Her heart, however, had other ideas, beating far too loudly in her chest. Wife. Argider had just called her "wife" so naturally. And it was making her feel all sorts of feelings she'd rather not acknowledge.

"Fine!" she finally huffed, tossing her head with defiance. "But don't complain when I step on your feet. Repeatedly."

Argider chuckled, her smirk playful. "I'll consider it a worthy sacrifice."

The next day, Faeralys was back at Phirya's training, and—as usual—she spent as much time flat on the ground as she did on her feet. Argider found this strangely reassuring; at least she wasn't the only one who lacked the grace of a royal swan.

After several rounds of awkward twirls and clumsy footwork, their long-awaited dance instructor arrived. He moved with a flourish, his whole presence radiating elegance. His introduction practically sparkled with refinement as Phirya greeted him with a respectful nod.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir Cole," she said with a courteous smile.

"The pleasure is all mine, Lady Phirya," he replied, his tone drenched in drama. He was Viscount Cole Brimance, a flamboyant artist of the dance—self-proclaimed "Master of Poise," which he seemed to have trademarked in his own mind. With an enthusiastic bow, he turned to the less-than-imperial duo.

"Your Imperial Majesties," he intoned, eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'm thrilled to begin this journey with you both."

Then, with a theatrical sigh and a hint of a grin, he added, "I suppose I'll be instructing a pair of lovebirds?"

Faeralys tried to respond, but the words got tangled somewhere around her throat, resulting in a squeaky, "Uh, yeah, I suppose…" that only encouraged Cole's amusement.

"Oh, this is going to be delightful," he chuckled, clapping his hands together. "Now, first things first—who will take the lead as the lady, and who shall be the gentleman? I do insist you each have a turn in being a lady."

"I'll take the gentleman's role, as I'm the taller one… and the former husband…" Argider volunteered, attempting to sound confident.

She barely looked at Faeralys, but she could feel the heat of her glare. No doubt Faeralys was fuming—and Argider, predictably, found this amusing.

"Excellent!" Cole said, his face a picture of delight. "Let's begin!"

Sir Cole took their arms and began adjusting their stances with surgical precision. Argider's hand settled at Faeralys's waist, and she tensed up, barely stifling a yelp as Cole nudged them closer—too close for comfort. In fact, they were close enough that Argider could feel Faeralys's breath catch in her throat.

"Your Imperial Majesty," Cole murmured with patience, "I must insist you stand a tad nearer."

"No problem, Sir Cole," Argider replied smoothly, sliding Faeralys a bit closer—so close that their noses nearly brushed. Faeralys's cheeks flushed, her gaze flicking downward as if looking at Argider might set her on fire.

"Look at me," Argider said in a voice low enough that only Faeralys could hear.

Faeralys flinched, barely daring to meet her gaze. Something about the way Argider held her hand felt… passionate. And maybe a little too intense.

Argider felt herself teetering on the edge of impulse. What if she just kissed her? She could feel the urge bubbling up—and it took everything in her to remind herself, Celibacy! Celibacy!

But the distraction left her open to Faeralys's revenge: a solid stomp on her foot.

"Oops, my bad," Faeralys said with a too-sweet smile. "You did say you were willing to make sacrifices for this dance, didn't you? So… don't mind a few bruised toes."

Argider winced, realizing Faeralys had absolutely done it on purpose. She glared at her, but Faeralys just smirked back, defiant. Just because Argider was now a woman didn't mean Faeralys was going to let her have her way that easily.

This was a battle she wasn't going to lose. She wasn't going to fall in love with this degenerate.