Later… Back at the Ball.
"Princess Jasmine Achilles from the Kingdom of Antecot!"
The MC announced as a woman in a regal blue gown stepped forward with her parents. She bowed in reverence before moving toward the seats designated for the participants and their families.
Daniel watched with boredom etched across his face. He didn't even bother to hide it, which made the noble ladies and their families uneasy—despite receiving polite smiles and compliments from the King and the Queen Dowager.
"You know… you could at least show some life at this event, Daniel. Instead of sulking like a dog without a shred of manners. Sheesh. People will think you're being forced to partake in this, not doing it willingly. We're not monsters, you know. We're not cut from the same cloth. So don't make it look that way—show some smiles, will you?" Esmerelda commented, feigning concern but unable to hide the disdain in her eyes. She even smirked at the insult, jabbing at him by calling him a monster indirectly.
Daniel couldn't care less about her or her pointless jabs. He glanced at her briefly, yawned, and replied, "If this wasn't already torture… do you think your flytrap would be open, allowing filthy bugs to roam and feast on the crap spewing out of it?"
Esmerelda's eyes widened immediately at the insult.
"You bra—!" she fumed.
Daniel turned to face her. "Ah, uh! Please, be composed and stay still, oh great blue-golden frog. Otherwise, your precious dinner flies will scatter before you even get a chance to taste even the big hairy kind. Oh, and I almost forgot to remind you—this is not your swamp but a sophisticated brook that doesn't harbor creatures of your kind. So be careful, or your flies might rent you out, and you'll end up becoming someone else's dinner instead. Mmm."
"You… you!" Esmerelda boiled with rage. Her face flushed red, twisted with fury, as though she were about to explode.
She turned toward Reginald, who was watching the crowd and the noble families presenting their daughters. He had heard the exchange but wasn't bothered at all. Esmerelda had dug her own grave, and it wasn't his place to intervene. She deserved it for starting an argument she couldn't win.
Esmerelda snorted in disbelief when she realized Reginald wasn't going to defend her or say anything.
"Useless…" she cursed under her breath. Reginald heard her, and his hands curled into fists. He couldn't lose his composure here, but he was already planning to deal with her later.
Her gaze shifted to the other side of the dais, locking onto her father. She swallowed under his intense stare. Even at a distance, he was known for his incredible sharp hearing—a gift he was granted from the heavens during the war when he saved his kingdom from a ruthless tyrant king. Now, it felt more like a curse, because it was clear he had heard everything. He had heard her humiliation at the hands of this… monstrous brat.
She quickly averted her gaze to regain composure. 'Don't worry, brat. Your time is coming soon. And I'll make you regret crossing me. Just you wait.'
Her smile widened as she turned to watch the next noble family step forward to present themselves.
A man with short, wavy brown hair, deep brown eyes, a flat nose, plush lips, and a sharp jawline framed by a short black beard stepped forward. His medium, muscular frame was clad in a black-and-maroon suit with polished black slacks. A golden sash crossed his chest, the royal emblem of Draskia gleaming proudly.
Beside him was a woman with long, wavy ginger hair, brown eyes, a small sharp nose, and deep pink lips. Her voluptuous figure was perfectly contoured beneath a body-hugging maroon dress, a golden sash draped across her chest, the emblem of Draskia shining brightly. She was an alluring beauty—perhaps the beauty of the Ball—and the other noble ladies shot her envious glances, whispering in disdain.
"Your Majesties, may I present Lord Evan Slovak, Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Draskia, and his daughter, Lady Catherine Madeline Slovak," announced the MC.
"Greetings, Your Majesties!" echoed both Lord Evan and Lady Catherine as they bowed and curtseyed in reverence, before turning to face King Damascus and bowing to him as well.
Damascus returned the gesture with a bright smile—unlike the other royals, who smiled through clenched teeth and folded fists.
Esmerelda could feel the tension, and she reveled in it.
"Cousin…!" Esmerelda greeted brightly as she approached the two. "I'm so glad to see you again."
"So am I, Your Majesty," replied Evan.
"It's really good to see you again, Aunt," said Catherine in a sweet voice.
"It's good to see you too, Catherine. My, you've grown into such a beautiful young lady. You're the most stunning belle here at the Ball. I'm certain you'll attract more attention than the rest of the participants," Esmerelda complimented.
Catherine smiled. "Thank you, Aunt. But I'd rather capture the attention of the Prince than waste time on insignificant people. Their presence isn't worth my effort."
Esmerelda chuckled. "Of course, my dear. Always focus on the main prize instead of bothering with nonsense. Don't worry—you'll get your prize."
Daniel snorted as he watched the trio converse. "So this is their plan. Tsk… pathetic."
"I think you've already found your future Crown Princess."
A small voice rang at his side.
"You two will definitely be a match made in heaven."
Daniel sighed. "No… I think you and her would be the perfect match made in heaven. A raccoon and a mouse—perfect for each other."
He turned to face the speaker. "Unless you think highly of yourself as something more, little brother. Tsk… but let me warn you: coveting other people's things doesn't make you a wise fool—it makes you a fool's fool. A coward. A loser. So listen to your big brother and don't tread the same path as those who've already fallen. Otherwise, your fall will be much… messier. Mmm."
Eric snorted, his fists clenched tightly on his lap, but he didn't reply. 'Don't worry. We'll see who has the last laugh, brother. We'll see', he mused, his gaze shifting back to the crowd below.
Daniel smirked as he caught the determined glint to triumph in Eric's eyes. The kid was hellbent on winning against him. Daniel pitied him—a foolish puppet, blind to the fact he was being used for others' gains. He would have enjoyed Eric's defeat immensely if they weren't related. But alas… blood was thicker than water. No matter how much he loathed it to the core, he still had to look out for the kid.
"Tsk… stupid, senseless puppet," he muttered under his breath, watching Eric's fidgeting figure and darting eyes. It was clear he wasn't focused on the festivities—he was searching for something. Or someone.
Daniel's gaze narrowed as it fell on Eric's lips, where a faint smear of pink stained the bottom lip.
Obvious evidence of a kiss.
From who?
Just then, Daniel noticed his brother's eyes light up, a faint smile forming on his lips as he looked toward the crowd.
Daniel felt the atmosphere in the room shift. Murmurs and gasps of awe rippled through the hall, admiration filling the air.
He turned to see what had caused the sudden merriment.
His gaze froze. For the first time in his life, his heart skipped a beat.
There, at the center of attention, was his Flamingo.
Ariel.
She was dressed in a gorgeous light-blue glittering gown that flowed from shoulder to floor, hugging her figure perfectly. Her black wavy hair was styled regally into a princess bun, held in place by a silver diamond pin that shimmered under the lights, its sparkle dancing with the glitters woven into her hair.
Her makeup was moderate, unlike the heavy layers worn by the other ladies, making her beauty even more alluring. She looked like a fairy princess—the true femme fatale of the Ball. Those who thought Catherine held the spotlight now stood corrected.
Ariel walked in with a radiant smile, her right arm hooked inside her father's left. Raymond, dressed in a light-blue suit that enhanced his distinguished handsomeness despite his age—equal to that of the Queen Dowager—accompanied her with quiet pride.
Together, Ariel and Raymond approached the dais, standing before the royal family.
"Who is she?" Evan asked, glancing at Esmerelda, who wore a look of awe and shock.
She turned to Ezekiel, who was also staring at her with a questioning gaze.
She recognized them, but she hadn't thought they would be participating.
'What the hell is going on?' she asked herself, her gaze drifting to the dais where Alicia was smiling brightly. 'Damn old hag! You must be responsible for this. Damn you!' she fumed.
"Your Majesties, may I present Duke Raymond William Fortmore of the fief of Lisboa and his beautiful daughter, Lady Ariel Benedict Fortmore—favored by the royal crown in the bridal selection, participating by pardon of the Queen Dowager," announced the MC.
Both Ariel and Raymond bowed and curtseyed in reverence.
"Greetings, Your Majesties," they echoed.
"Pffft! A mere pardon dares to show up at the Ball as if she's someone special. How pathetic," Catherine scorned. "Who does she think she is?"
"Don't worry, darling. Looks don't matter in this game. She may look beautiful, but that doesn't mean—" Esmerelda began, before her eyes widened in disbelief at what she was seeing. "Wha…at!"
And she wasn't the only one. The entire room fell into stunned silence, faces frozen in shock. Even the royal family members were dumbstruck.
There, in front of them, stood Daniel—facing Lady Ariel, who herself looked equally shocked.
"Mmm… mmm." Daniel cleared his throat, turning his gaze across the dumbstruck room. He squared his shoulders and bowed slightly.
"Lady Ariel," he said gently, yet with commanding authority. "Care to join this future sovereign for a dance?"
Pwaaa!
The sharp sound of a glass shattering echoed through the hall, making the situation even more awkward—and utterly unbelievable.
The almighty, rumored cold, dangerous, grumpy, and ruthless dragon of the palace—and the kingdom—had just descended from his mighty throne to ask a lady for…
A dance?
It was truly incredible. Unexpected. A juicy scene destined to explode the News platforms with gossip, the kind no one had imagined.
Immediately, paparazzi crowded around, snapping pictures and recording the moment.
Ariel felt her blood run cold. 'What the hell is he doing? Trying to get me killed—or maybe protected? What does he mean by this?' Her mind nearly exploded with questions until…
"Mmm… mmm."
She turned to Raymond, who had just cleared his throat and darted his eyes toward her—a silent reminder that she had to respond.
Ariel saw the signal and turned to Daniel with a nervous smile. "Oh… ah… of course, Your Highness. I will be honored."
She curtseyed in agreement, lowering her eyes.
"Tsk… bold Flamingo…" Daniel muttered under his breath. Ariel heard him, and her cheeks flushed red—both in anger and embarrassment.
Daniel extended his hand, which she reluctantly took. He led her to the center of the Ballroom as whispers and murmurs echoed around them, then positioned her for the waltz.
"Do loosen up, my lady," Daniel whispered. "Otherwise this dance will become a show… of messy embarrassment."
"Well, can you blame me?" Ariel whisper-shouted through a smile with clenched teeth. "I didn't ask for this special attention, Your Highness."
Daniel chuckled—a deep, amused sound that rumbled through his chest. Ariel flushed as she felt it. It was infuriating… and unsettling. Sending flairs of mixed sensations she never felt before.
"Well… you wanted my attention, my lady," he whispered, brushing her cheek just enough for the crowd to erupt in disbelief again. "Then my attention you shall get."
He pulled her close and broke into the dance as the music began.
Ariel growled softly as they swirled across the ballroom floor. Her gaze lifted to the monitors capturing their every movement.
'Crap… this is bad', she thought, as Daniel spun her into the next move.
Meanwhile…
"Looks like we have ourselves an obstacle," murmured a newcomer beside Ezekiel, who was keenly watching the dance floor.
It was his elder brother, Evan.
"Who is that, really?" Evan asked.
"The Lovers Rose…" whispered Ezekiel.
His grip tightened around his glass of scotch as his eyes locked onto the couple on the dance floor.
As if sensing him, Daniel turned slightly, meeting his gaze with a bright smile before swirling Ariel again.
'Daniel!!' Ezekiel screamed in his mind.
Pwaaa!
The glass shattered in his hand, shards slicing into his skin as blood oozed out.
But he didn't feel the pain. His mind was clouded with fury.
One thing was certain.
The brat was going to get what was coming to him.
And Ezekiel couldn't wait to unleash the storm.