I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Chapter 273: A Very Loud Ballroom

"How could Lord Cherion do something so utterly scandalous?"

"Oh, please. I bet he did it entirely on purpose!"

"What on earth was His Highness thinking, asking his ex-fiancé to dance in the first place? He practically invited the disaster."

"Shh, lower your voice! But honestly... I am really happy I didn’t miss this party tonight. It has been so long since we got this much high-tier entertainment."

The whispers spread through the grand ballroom, slipping behind fluttering silk fans and raised glass. The orchestra had resumed playing a lively, sweeping waltz, but the music could barely drown out the delicious scandal currently fueling the entire high society.

Hearing the overlapping murmurs from the passing nobles, Iryna let out a soft, thoroughly amused chuckle. Her gaze swept over the crowd, watching the way people subtly pointed toward the exit where the Crown Prince had retreated to nurse his ruined dignity.

"What is so funny?" Marielle asked, her voice light as she matched Iryna’s steps on the glittering dance floor.

The two of them were currently locked in the rhythmic sway of the waltz, moving gracefully among the other couples. Marielle watched the woman holding her hand closely, her gaze flicking between curiosity and quiet caution.

"Everything," Iryna replied smoothly, a lazy, captivated smile playing on her lips as she looked down at Marielle. "Oh, what a spectacular event. To be quite frank, I fully intended to leave this party early. But it seems I absolutely need to stay much longer now. After all, who knows what else might happen, right?"

"Wow. You certainly seems to be enjoying this a little too much."

"Am I?" Iryna asked back, tilting her head with feigned innocence. She effortlessly guided Marielle through a gentle turn. "Are you telling me you are not enjoying the show, Lady Marielle?"

Marielle chuckled, her gaze drifting toward the empty space where the incident had occurred. "A little bit, perhaps. To be honest, I only regret that I wasn’t standing closer. I should have been right there."

Iryna raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Do you regret choosing to dance with me instead of witnessing the juice disaster closer?"

"I never said that," Marielle replied. "I just think... if I had been standing closer, I could have casually thrown a lemon tart at the prince too. It would have stuck perfectly to the sweet juice Cherion sprayed. Consider it the final, necessary decoration to his ensemble."

Iryna burst into a genuine, delighted chuckle, the sound rich and warm. "Wow. Do you harbor a secret grudge against Prince Yerel, Lady Marielle? And I take it you enjoy dancing with me, then?"

Marielle used the momentum of the music to gracefully swirl out of Iryna’s hold, her gown flaring beautifully under the crystal chandeliers, before returning seamlessly to her arms.

"Yes, and no."

"Oh? Too bad," Iryna murmured, her voice dropping into a teasing, sultry register. "I, for one, am thoroughly enjoying myself. I happen to like dancing with you very much, Lady Marielle. We could easily do this all night."

Marielle’s expression stiffened just a fraction. She quickly looked away, clearing her throat to maintain her composed facade. "I am only doing this because my brother explicitly asked me to look after the guest."

Hearing the excuse, Iryna’s eyes flashed with an amused, dangerous light. Without breaking the rhythm of the waltz, she slid her hand firmly down to grip Marielle’s waist, applying just enough pressure to pull her an inch closer than what was strictly deemed proper by imperial etiquette.

"Are you entirely sure it was just because your brother asked you?" Iryna whispered, her breath brushing against Marielle’s ear.

Marielle let out a soft, flustered "Hmph," her jaw tightening slightly as she stubbornly turned her face to look somewhere else entirely, refusing to give Iryna the satisfaction of seeing her flustered.

Meanwhile, not far from them...

"Ezek... I really feel like we’re not supposed to be doing this right now."

"Why not? I know you want in on this too, Reiner. Don’t pretend your feet aren’t following the music."

"I know, I know! But it still feels fundamentally wrong," Reiner complained under his breath, his brow furrowed in a deep, guilty frown. "We are Lord Cherion’s personal aide and guard. We should be scanning the room for threats, not actively participating in the festivities."

"Reiner, relax your shoulders and live a little," Ezek replied with a grin. He effortlessly led Reiner through a quick, synchronized step. "Lord Cherion left the ballroom with the Duke. They are perfectly safe together. Besides, if they actually needed us right now, they would have called for us earlier, wouldn’t they? But they didn’t. Which means we are officially free of duty for a brief moment."

Reiner let out a heavy sigh, though he didn’t stop matching Ezek’s confident steps. "I just feel like we aren’t doing our jobs right."

"Of course we are doing our jobs right," Ezek scoffed playfully, rolling his eyes. "Do you not remember what Lord Cherion explicitly told us before we entered the palace? He literally said we need to enjoy the party and not stick to him like glue the entire night. I am merely following our master’s orders to the letter."

Reiner paused, considering the logic for a second before a reluctant nod escaped him. "Right..." He glanced over Ezek’s shoulder, his eyes scanning the perimeter of the room until they landed on a solitary figure standing near the grand refreshment tables. "Though, I think I will go dance with my brother after this song ends."

At that exact moment, as the music swirled them around, Reiner caught Flio’s gaze across the crowded room. Flio was already staring directly at him.

He stood perfectly straight, a glass held loosely in his hand, watching the ballroom with a quiet, detached expression. To him, the entire event was nothing more than a giant, absurd spectacle. He had noticed the exact moment Zarius and Cherion left after King Alderon’s sudden summons, and had been watching the crowd shift ever since.

He took a slow, quiet sip of his drink, his face a mask of absolute boredom.

"Look at your brother and Ezek over there," a smooth, teasing voice came from his side.

Elios stepped up to the table, casually picking up a glass of drink and leaning his hip against the edge of the pillar. A playful smirk was firmly fixed on his face as he gestured with his chin toward the dance floor. "Tell me, Flio... are they actually a thing?"

Flio didn’t even turn his head. He kept his eyes locked straight ahead, his jaw tightening slightly. "I wouldn’t know."

Elios let out a soft laugh, thoroughly enjoying the bodyguard’s incredibly stiff, unyielding demeanor. He shifted his weight, leaning in just a fraction closer to Flio’s side, mischief clear in his gaze.

"Since everyone else is currently occupied with making a scene or whispering about what just happened," Elios said lightly, "should we dance too, Sir Flio?"

Flio slowly turned his head. He remained silent, narrowing his eyes at Elios in warning.

Elios merely raised his hands in a mocking gesture of surrender, his smirk never fading.

Flio let out a quiet, irritated huff and turned his attention back to the grand entrance of the ballroom. His gaze moved over the double doors, following the guests slipping in and out of the hallways.

His eyes narrowed, his entire body going still with sudden alertness.

A tall figure with dark green hair appeared from the shadows of the corridor, walking alone and quietly.

Karson.

Flio’s grip on his crystal glass tightened.

"Oh," Elios murmured playfully under his breath. "You must want to dance with him instead, huh?"

Before Elios could finish chuckling at his own joke, Flio’s elbow shot out. He drove his elbow straight into Elios’s stomach.

Elios instantly folded forward, letting out a muffled groan as the air was forcibly knocked out of his lungs.

Flio didn’t offer a single word of apology, nor did he look down at the groaning man beside him. He simply stood perfectly straight, his gaze completely locked onto Karson’s lone figure as the Crown Prince’s aide disappeared.