Forward, backward, step! Left, right, step! Forward, right, step! Left, forward, right, step!
"You should have warned me you were absolutely horrible at dancing," Fiona remarked, doing her best to match his uneven pace without getting her toes stomped on every second.
Her movements were graceful and fluid, with a natural rhythm in perfect harmony with the music.
Aldrich's, however, were nothing short of chaotic—a clumsy imitation of someone who thought they knew how to dance.
"Believe me, I didn't think I was this bad," Aldrich admitted, his face heating with embarrassment.
"Do you want to stop now? Because I am more than happy to make that call," he proposed, his voice laced with desperation.
"And be the first couple to leave the dance floor? Absolutely not," Fiona refused with a playful defiance, her chin tilted high.
"But if we keep going, I'm pretty sure I'll burn a hole through your shoes—or worse, your ankles," he countered, genuinely concerned.
No matter how much he tried, his feet seemed magnetically drawn to stepping on hers.
Fiona stifled a laugh, though her amusement danced in her eyes.
"I have a plan," she declared confidently. "If you trust me and let me lead, this can still end gracefully. What do you say?"
Aldrich met her gaze, deliberating for all of a second before sighing. "I say anything to put an end to this train wreck of a performance. I'm all in."
Indeed, it was a disaster.
While Selina and Edward effortlessly commanded the crowd's attention with their seamless steps, Aldrich and Fiona were one misplaced foot away from turning their dance into a slapstick comedy.
"Great," Fiona said with a decisive nod. "All I need you to do is close your eyes and relinquish control of your movements to me."
"Close my eyes? That sounds… mildly concerning," Aldrich quipped but ultimately complied. "Fine. Do your worst."
With his consent, Fiona took charge, her hand guiding his with precision.
She gently adjusted his grip on her waist while her palm rested firmly on his shoulder.
Her movements dictated his steps, steering him into a flow that finally matched the rhythm of the music.
To Aldrich's astonishment, the awkward stumbles vanished, replaced by something that almost resembled elegance.
"How are you doing this?" he muttered under his breath, barely believing the fluidity of his movements.
"Magic," Fiona teased, her lips curving into a sly smile.
For the first time that evening, Aldrich felt like he belonged on the dance floor.
The harmony between them grew natural, drawing subtle glances from the surrounding crowd.
However, his focus wavered when he spotted a familiar figure lingering at the edge of the hall.
The person—a petite girl—caught his eye and beckoned him over with an urgent wave.
"Would you excuse me for a moment?" Aldrich asked Fiona, releasing her waist and stepping back.
"Sure, go ahead," Fiona replied, her tone gracious.
"I promise I won't take long," he added before weaving his way through the crowd toward the girl.
The figure waiting for him was none other than Saldrich, his younger sister.
"Sal! Just the person I needed," Aldrich greeted her enthusiastically. "Listen, there's someone I want you to meet—"
Before he could finish, Saldrich grabbed his wrist and tugged him to a secluded corner of the grand hall.
"What the hell was that?" she demanded, fixing him with a glare as sharp as glass shards.
"What the hell was what?" Aldrich asked, genuinely perplexed.
"That!" she hissed, pointing an accusing finger toward Fiona, who had stepped off the dance floor and was now mingling with the crowd.
"You mean Fiona? I was just about to introduce you to her," Aldrich replied, still confused by his sister's outburst.
"Fiona?" Saldrich repeated her expression a mix of exasperation and disbelief. "Do you even know who she is?"
"Uh, yeah. She's Fiona Helmsworth, my dance partner. Why?"
Saldrich let out a frustrated sigh. "Of course, you wouldn't know. You've been in a coma for five years, so it's only natural you're clueless about the social dynamics going on in Upstate."
"Sal, you're not making any sense," Aldrich said, his patience thinning.
"Listen to me, Al," she began, her tone serious as she glanced toward Fiona.
"The sector we live in—Sector A—is under the jurisdiction of the Pendragon clan. They're the most powerful and influential family here. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I get that," Aldrich replied, though he found it amusing to be lectured by his younger sister.
"Good. Now, do you know which family is second in power, right after the Pendragons?" she asked, her gaze piercing.
Aldrich smirked. "Let me guess—Fiona's family?"
"Exactly," Saldrich confirmed, her voice firm.
"The Helmsworth family is renowned for their groundbreaking innovations. They essentially control the technological advancements of the entire continent."
"Okay, noted. And this is relevant to me how?" Aldrich asked, folding his arms.
"The problem," Saldrich stressed, "is that the Helmsworths aren't the only influential family. The Von Degure family, who oversee infrastructure across the continent, are just as powerful. And it's no secret that there's bad blood between the Helmsworths and the Von Degures— their daughters to be precise, Fiona and Selina."
"Wait, are you saying Fiona and Selina are rivals?" Aldrich asked, his curiosity framed to be as surprising as possible.
He knew all of this and knew the sort of disposition he was getting himself into by publicly relating with Fiona Helmswoth despite the ongoing scuffle with Selina Von Degure.
Aldrich just could not care less to be bothered by it.
"Rivals is putting it lightly," Saldrich replied. "The two are practically at war. And here you are, dancing with Fiona Helmsworth in a hall hosted by the Von Degures. Do you have any idea what kind of attention you're drawing?"
Aldrich sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Sal, I appreciate the concern, but honestly? I think you're overreacting."
Before Saldrich could retort, a deafening crash shattered the festive atmosphere.
The sound of glass breaking echoed through the hall, silencing the crowd and plunging the room into chaos.