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    Hi everyone~ I apologize dearly for a mistake. I uploaded my past version of translation last time (I couldn’t immediately reupload it cause of the sudden site maintenance T.T). Clarification, An de Toulouse is a female. If you see any of it not updated yet, please do mention on the comments~

    Lost in such thoughts, I didn’t realize how late it had gotten.

    ‘A year has already passed, just like that?’

    A year had gone by, without fireworks, without Young Master Mael. I couldn’t believe I was already starting my second year in this completely different life.

    And with my thoughts consumed by the Duke, no less.

    * * *

    The following year, Lady Ana got a dance instructor. Lady Ana’s dance instructor was a retired dancer and teacher from the Royal Dance Academy, a professional dance education institution established by the previous King. Although a commoner, she had taught dance to nobles after retiring from her teaching position.

    Before Lady Ana’s first lesson, the Duke had simply told me,

    ‘Since you requested these lessons, observe them and report back to me.’

    It wasn’t a difficult task. Lady Ana’s dance lessons began after lunch, not in the study but in a different room. The room’s layout was specifically requested by the dance instructor. 

    As I went there with Lady Ana, I understood why; I saw that three walls of the room were covered in mirrors. A man sat on a chair, holding a large instrument. He was likely the musician for the dance practice. And standing next to him, her posture impeccably straight, was undoubtedly the dance instructor.

    “Greetings, Lady Ana. And…?”

    “I’m Jeanne de Toulouse, Lady Ana’s tutor.”

    “Greetings, Miss Jeanne de Toulouse. I’m Camilla Belle. Please call me Camilla.”

    Her clear, resonant voice echoed through the room.

    “I was a principal dancer at the Royal Dance Academy for five years and participated in various balls held at court. After retiring, I taught at the academy, and now I help young nobles make their successful debut in society.”

    She was an elderly woman with graying hair, but as befitting someone who had trained in dance all her life, she had a lean, toned figure, perfect posture, square shoulders, and her body seemed to be composed of straight lines. A posture honed over decades of practice.

    “What is the purpose of dance for nobles? Entertainment? Amusement? If that were all, they wouldn’t hire a commoner like me as a dance instructor, paying a hefty sum for arduous and tedious dance practice. They could simply sit back and enjoy a performance by professional dancers. In court, dance is not only a measure of one’s refinement and social standing but also a form of unspoken courtship.”

    She spoke with the dignified air of a solo performer on stage.

    “Therefore, unmarried women, especially young ladies like yourselves, must hone their dancing skills. Just as a knight trains in swordsmanship for unforeseen battles and a farmer maintains his tools during the winter for spring plowing. I’ve taught young noblewomen like yourselves not only how to dance but also court etiquette for balls. Of all the ladies I’ve taught, none have failed to receive courtship offers. Even those with two left feet.”

    She emphasized the word “none,” her eyes gleaming like polished silverware.

    ‘I see.’

    Her words, her posture, her demeanor – everything about her inspired confidence. I nodded, thinking, as if observing someone else’s affairs, thinking that the Duke had brought in an excellent dance instructor. It truly felt like someone else’s affair… until that moment.

    “Within a year, I will instill in both of you the essence of the latest court dances and and ballroom etiquette.”

    But the moment the dance instructor referred to “both of you,” referring to Lady Ana and me, I snapped back to reality.

    ‘Both of us?’

    I looked around. 

    Besides the musician and the dance instructor, there was only Lady Ana and me.

    ‘Did I mishear?’

    “The dance you two will be learning today is the minuet, a staple of parties and balls. It’s a slow, graceful dance in 3/4 time, and it’s crucial to move with small, precise steps. Now, today, we’ll learn and practice the basic steps of the minuet. I’ll demonstrate first.”

    Camilla signaled to the musician, and he began playing the cello. Keeping time with the music, she demonstrated the precise, small steps she had described. Her left and right feet moved gracefully, following the 3/4 time pattern. She seemed to float across the floor.

    As I watched, mesmerized, she stopped and said, “Now, Miss Jeanne, would you like to try?”

    “Me?”

    The instructor looked at me and nodded. I finally realized that what I had dismissed as a mishearing was, in fact, true.

    “No! I’m not a young lady, I’m just the tutor here. I’ve never attended a ball, and I never will, so I have no need to learn how to dance! Miss Camilla, you only need to teach her, Lady Ana.”

    “I’ve already received a year’s tuition for two young ladies from His Grace. Is there another young lady here besides the two of you?”

    The instructor said curtly.

    “…”

    There wasn’t. I realized I had been trapped.

    ‘Since you requested these lessons, observe them and report back to me.’

    This man was making me learn dance, after running and horseback riding.

    Even a kitten would know by now that his intentions weren’t about improving my physical fitness. I couldn’t understand his motives.

    ‘What’s he going to make me do next? Sword fighting?’

    “Teacher! I’m so happy we’re taking lessons together!”

    As I stood there, dumbfounded, Lady Ana, oblivious to my inner turmoil, clung to my arm excitedly.

    During that first lesson, I moved as if cursed, unable to coordinate my left and right feet.

    “One! Two! Three! Four! Again! One! Two! Three! Four! Head up, eyes forward! Again! One! Two! Three! Four!”

    The dance instructor clapped her hands rhythmically, encouraging me. Despite her efforts, I moved like a marionette with tangled strings, my steps constantly faltering. 

    Step forward, slide the right foot past the left, point the raised toe, tap the floor, and then repeat on the other side.

    ‘Why can’t I do it with my body when I understand it in my head?’

    The movements were slow, yet I couldn’t seem to repeat them correctly. Yes, it seemed that I had two left feet and no sense of rhythm. The music suddenly stopped.

    “Alright, that’s enough!”

    The dance instructor said.

    “Let’s stop here for now. Miss Jeanne, you’ve just demonstrated every possible mistake one can make while performing a minuet. Please sit down in the corner and reflect on what you did wrong. Now, Lady Ana, would you like to come forward?”

    Her words might have been offensive, but they were true, so I wasn’t angry at all. I was just grateful that she had put an end to my struggle with those cursed steps. 

    As I stumbled towards a corner and sat down, something dripped onto my chest. I looked down and saw a dark stain on my dress. It was sweat dripping from my chin.

    ‘Why? Why on earth am I doing this?’

    It was Lady Ana’s turn. She had looked slightly nervous before starting, but once the music began, she started stepping lightly and gracefully. Camilla’s face flushed as she clapped enthusiastically.

    “That’s it! Well done! You’re doing great! Beautiful! Elegant!”

    Even after Lady Ana finished, Camilla continued to praise her.

    “Amazing! To be able to dance like this after just watching once! You understand the essence of this dance perfectly! And look at your balanced posture! You have a natural talent, Lady Ana! The talent to become a social butterfly!”

    “But Teacher, what’s a social butterfly?”

    Lady Ana approached me and whispered.

    “It’s a term used for women who are popular in social circles. Someone whose presence brightens any gathering, and everyone wants to talk to them. Nobles host discussion groups, plays, concerts, and exhibitions called ‘salons,’ and if a social butterfly doesn’t attend, it’s considered a less prestigious event. Of course, social butterflies also host their own salons.”

    “Have you ever been to a salon, Teacher?”

    “I…”

    “Now, now, enough chatter. Get up!”

     

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