Chapter 4. Crimson Dance

The road to the Royal Palace was framed by a lush and verdant landscape.

The vegetation stretched on both sides of the path, creating a mantle of freshness and natural beauty.

The carriage glided smoothly toward the Royal Ball, which was held once a year, guided by the skilled hands of a coachman who seemed to dance with the well-paved road.

Inside the carriage, a conversation unfolded between Lisel and Margaret.

Although it seemed casual, Lisel could sense the hidden venom in every word from her stepmother.

—Carlier won’t be able to join us this time. His administrative commitments won’t allow it —Margaret said with a false pity.

Lisel felt a fleeting relief knowing she wouldn’t have to endure her half-brother’s arrogance and inappropriate glances. But that comfort quickly dissipated as Margaret continued her dialogue.

—The weather isn’t very pleasant today —observed the Marchioness, looking out at a small cloud through the carriage window.

—But the king is kind. He’s offered us two guest rooms in the palace if the weather worsens and it becomes difficult for us to return.

Margaret's barely visible malevolent smile was like a knife to Lisel.

Every word, every gesture from Margaret was a reminder that she couldn’t let her guard down for a moment.

Lisel, with her gaze fixed on the passing landscape, wove her own thoughts, preparing for any eventuality in the dark dance of the court.

The Royal Palace Ballroom sparkled with its own charm.

Illuminated by lights that twinkled like tiny stars. The echoes of elegant conversations filled the air, creating a symphony of aristocratic voices.

Lisel, draped in a dazzling white silk gown, moved gracefully among the aristocrats. Her golden hair was neatly styled, and her light makeup gave her an excellent presence.

Deysi had truly made an effort to make her beautiful.

Dressed in fine silk of pure white, her figure seemed to radiate a soft and charming light, drawing the gaze of everyone present. The silk moved with her, each fold and ripple capturing and reflecting the light in a gentle play of shadows and luminosity.

Her honey-toned hair, perfectly styled, and the makeup, applied skillfully, were a testament to Deysi’s dedication in transforming her into a vision of beauty.

Despite her apparent serenity, Lisel moved her right leg with an almost imperceptible caution with each step. A detail hidden from the eyes of others.

In her mind, a shadow loomed over the splendid night.

The possibility of spending the night under the same roof as the Crown Prince Teodor weighed on her like a threatening cloud. Although her engagement was still being debated in the negotiation stages and had not yet been formalized or made official, Lisel knew Teodor’s true nature.

The mere idea that he might make the bold decision to visit her in the intimacy of the night, in a place where she would have no way to escape, filled her with unease.

This concern was interwoven with her efforts to maintain grace and elegance. Creating a sharp contrast between her outwardly serene appearance and the silent alarm inside her. With every smile and curtsy, Lisel assessed her surroundings.

Mentally plotting strategies and escape routes, preparing for any eventuality that the night might bring.

As she walked across the dance floor, Lisel spotted Teodor Lanverd, the very embodiment of her worries, approaching her with unyielding resolve.

The only son of King Leopold Lanverd of Castella and Heir to the Throne, Teodor was a man of fine and elegant features.

His pale skin contrasted with his metallic eyes, which today, glowed with a threatening intensity. His silver-blonde hair fell straight and shiny, and his attire was worthy of his position.

A royal dance suit, embroidered with threads of gold and adorned with red gems that reflected the light, demonstrating his status and elegance.

With an arrogant smile that barely concealed his determination, Teodor approached Lisel. His gaze took in every detail of her, as if assessing his prey.

After the official greetings and her curtsy, Teodor finally got to the point of his approach.

—Lisel, charming as always —commented the prince with a voice that made her spine tingle.

—Would you like to enjoy a closer dance?

Without waiting for a response, he took Lisel by the waist, guiding her in a dance that was more a power play than a gesture of courtesy. As they danced, Lisel felt Teodor’s lecherous gaze, as if he viewed her as an object of desire rather than a person.

—Lisel, you are enchanting —whispered the prince.

His fingers brushed subtly against the lower part of her waist. Lisel felt the revulsion grow inside her at the contact.

—Oh, you flatter me, prince.

Her voice was a controlled murmur, her posture upright and dignified.

Teodor continued, with a tone that dripped with insinuations.

—I’ve heard that your mother, the Marchioness Luton, has requested to spend the night at the Royal Palace, considering that the Luton Mansion is somewhat far away.

His words were a tacit reminder of the power he wielded and Lisel’s vulnerability in the Palace.

The dance continued for only a brief moment longer, until a sudden wave of silence and curtsies swept through the room.

All eyes turned to the majestic figure who had just entered: the King of Castella.

After his welcoming speech, filled with promises of prosperity for the kingdom, Lisel couldn’t help but chuckle internally at the words that sounded empty and politically convenient.

Soon, the king approached his son and Lisel, with a look of kindness.

—Son, Lady Lisel, it’s a great joy to see that you get along so well —said the monarch with a smile.

Both performed an impeccable curtsy.

A clear and bold thought crossed her mind: this was her only chance to act. Though the plan forming in her head seemed foolish, she knew it would be even more foolish to stay without attempting anything.

At that moment, a few drops of blood appeared on her white dress, staining the area of her inner thigh. The king, observing from a distance, showed expressions of confusion and concern. The prince frowned.

—Oh, what an unfortunate turn of events —exclaimed Lisel, infusing her voice with a perfectly acted surprise.

—My King, Crown Prince, I am so sorry for this inconvenience. I find myself in urgent need to withdraw immediately; it is a feminine matter.

—No need to worry, it is comforting to see that you are in good health, my lady.

Prince Teodor's formal words contrasted with the cold look and tense jaw of his face.

Lisel, hiding her relief behind a façade of composure, bowed respectfully to the King, with all the grace she could muster.

—Your Majesty, I beg your pardon for this unexpected departure. I request your permission to return home.

The king, a kind but somewhat naïve man, nodded with an understanding gesture.

—Of course, Lisel. I wish that all is well and that you recover promptly.

Lisel withdrew from the ballroom with an unperturbed elegance, despite the bloodstains on her white dress. What would have been an unparalleled embarrassment for any noble lady was her salvation.

As she moved away, out of sight of the prince and the monarch, a man in a corner watched her discreetly. In that secluded corner, the silent observer, whose gray eyes had followed every movement with sharp attention, revealed an interest that went beyond mere casual curiosity.

The man’s figure merged with the shadows. Opting for anonymity and discretion over any hint of notoriety. His intention was clear: to remain unnoticed and distant from the intrigues and complications of the nobility.

Yet, the man wore a suit whose subtle elegance did not go unnoticed. The dark jacket, with an impeccable cut, hugged his athletic frame, while a fine white linen shirt closed at his neck, adding a touch of measured formality. His trousers, matching the jacket, fell precisely over well-polished leather shoes.

Despite his intention not to stand out, his appearance and demeanor attracted curious glances from several court ladies, who looked at him with a mix of curiosity and admiration.

“How uncomfortable” he thought, aware of the gazes following him.

Then, he noticed that Lisel’s figure was no longer there.

She had left the ballroom with a haste that seemed to defy the limitations of her steps. The man was surprised to see Lisel in the ballroom, but his surprise increased when she, with the same swiftness with which she had appeared, vanished without even noticing his presence.

An ironic expression appeared on his face as a thought crossed his mind.

“You always show up uninvited and flee when I want you to stay”.

Lisel had devised a plan as daring as it was risky.

Skillfully, she had sewn a small pocket into her underwear, near her right thigh, where she hid the thin dagger Deysi had provided.

The idea had come to her as soon as she learned of her stepmother’s machinations to marry her off to the Prince, and she decided she needed a measure of protection.

The dagger had to be well hidden. So it was strategically placed in the fold between her right thigh and her inner thigh. She had to be careful, as a slight twist of the leg and a gentle pressure could cut her own skin.

Thus, amidst the Royal Ball, she had managed to simulate a menstrual emergency. A situation that for any other noble lady would have been a source of great embarrassment and humiliation. But for Lisel, it was a calculated move, perhaps desperate, but necessary.

Now, no one could deny her need to return to the Luton Mansion, thereby avoiding spending the night at the Royal Palace.

In the safety and solitude of her carriage, Lisel observed the crimson trail that marked her escape. A thought crossed her mind, tinged with irony and relief.

“I never thought I would get so much use out of the dagger, although it has been very pertinent”.

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