Christina nearly flew in her festive gown as she seized her niece's hand and led her straight before the Young Wolf. None suspected that it was in fact Noelle, wearing Andras's form for the sake of the secret mission.
"I've brought my niece," Christina declared triumphantly. "This is Amelia! But there's no time for introductions—the first dance is about to begin. Enjoy yourselves, goodbye!"
The Silverwood lady quickly returned to the Wolfwood table, settling beside Carla and Floralys to watch the dances unfold.
Noelle, in the guise of the Young Wolf, turned kindly to Amelia.
"So then, Amelia… may I ask you for a dance? Half an hour means about six dances—so six dances?"
Amelia's eyes lit up, a faint smile appearing on her lips.
"Yes, gladly!"
Noelle leaned closer, noticing the girl's flushed face.
"Your cheek is red where you were struck. Does it still hurt?"
Amelia lowered her gaze, answering softly.
"A little—it still aches."
Noelle spoke then, serious yet gentle.
"Wait… I'll heal it for you."
The first notes of music rose, the dance floor bathed in light, and the crowd watched curiously as the Young Wolf—truly Noelle—prepared to use healing magic to ease Amelia's pain. The moment was both intimate and ceremonial: in the very heart of the ball, a small spell promised comfort and relief.
Noelle, in the guise of the Young Wolf, gently touched Amelia's cheek with her right hand. Magic flowed softly from her, and the pain slowly, almost imperceptibly, dissolved from the young girl's skin. Amelia's heart raced, each moment filled with the warmth of the healing touch that banished not only the pain but also her fear.
Christina had often spoken of how ideal the Young Wolf was, but now, in this very moment, Amelia herself realized it: before her stood the boy destined for true love. Her heart was completely swept away, and she fell in love with Andras—or rather, with Noelle, who had unknowingly enchanted her through the secret shapeshifting spell.
"There, it's done," Noelle said with a smile. "It won't hurt anymore."
"It really doesn't," Amelia replied, her eyes shining. "I felt the pain vanish. You healed me?"
"It was just a simple healing spell," Noelle answered, a little flustered.
Amelia leaned closer, her voice filled with wonder.
"You can heal too, Young Wolf?"
Inside, Noelle froze.
"Uh‑oh! The Young Wolf isn't supposed to be able to heal others… what do I do?" she thought.
At last she whispered with a mysterious smile:
"Let this be our secret, all right?"
Amelia's eyes sparkled, as though a bond had been forged between them.
"Just our secret? All right! I won't tell anyone!"
Noelle glanced toward the dance floor, where the first notes of the royal waltz had already begun.
"The first dance is the royal waltz. Will you manage?"
Amelia nodded, her face glowing with joy.
"Of course, it was the very first dance I learned."
The musicians' melody filled the hall, and the two youths stepped slowly into the center of the floor. The ballroom audience watched them with curiosity, but for Amelia, everyone else vanished: only she and the Young Wolf existed, bound by the secret and the gentle touch that had forever changed her heart.
The ballroom shimmered with light, the musicians' melodies filling the air. Noelle, in the guise of the Young Wolf, guided Amelia gently across the floor. Every movement was careful, as though the young noble girl were a fragile porcelain doll. Amelia's eyes sparkled, her cheeks flushed, and with each step she felt herself at the very center of attention.
To the guests, this dance was the most beautiful: the Young Wolf and Amelia's movements stood out from the crowd, as if the music itself had chosen them.
The first dance ended, and the crowd celebrated with a soft murmur. Yet the Princess would not let the moment pass without comment.
"Ha! It seems the Young Wolf and Amelia's dance was the most beautiful," she said, her tone tinged with irritation. "But we only lost because we are both girls."
Eris lowered his head awkwardly.
"I'm sorry, Princess. It's my fault you lost."
"What?!" Anabella exclaimed, then quickly corrected herself. "I mean… it doesn't matter. In the next dance, we'll be the better pair!"
"I'll give it my all in the next dance!" Eris promised enthusiastically.
"Don't give it your all, or I won't be able to keep up with you, you silly!" the Princess laughed, her eyes gleaming playfully.
"I'm sorry, Princess, I'm nothing but trouble," Eris replied, embarrassed.
"Oh, just dance as you like. I don't mind at all," Anabella said, her voice soothing the Hero's spirit.
Eris's eyes lit up, and she answered with a sincere smile:
"You're so kind, Princess Anabella."
The Princess's heart beat triumphantly.
"Yes! I am kind! Fall in love with me, my dear Eris!" she thought, as she held the Hero's hand more tightly, waiting for the next melody to begin.
After the first dance, Noelle—still in the guise of the Young Wolf—turned kindly to Amelia.
"Our first dance went rather well," she said with a smile.
"Yes," Amelia replied, her eyes sparkling. "You led me so well, as if we had practiced together many times."
"But this was our very first," Noelle answered. "Perhaps we make a good pair."
"A good pair? Yes… perhaps," Amelia whispered, her face flushing crimson.
Inside, Noelle felt uncertain.
"How should I behave with a young noble girl? What would the Young Wolf do? I've never seen him with one. Maybe I should do what I would want him to do with me… Let's start with this—I would want him to pat my head."
The half‑elf girl smiled at Amelia and gently patted her head. Amelia's heart raced, overwhelmed by the tender attention of the noble youth. Her cheeks grew so red that even Noelle noticed.
"Your face is very red again, now on both sides," Noelle remarked. "Does it hurt? Shall I heal it?"
"What? No, I mean… my face is red? It must just be from the dancing, yes!" Amelia answered nervously, trying to hide her feelings.
"If you're tired, we could sit and rest," Noelle suggested.
"Of course not!" Amelia protested fervently. "I mean… I'm not tired at all, in fact! I could dance all night."
Noelle nodded, smiling.
"I see. Then prepare for the next dance."
The musicians were already tuning for the next melody, and the guests watched eagerly to see how the Young Wolf and Amelia's dance would continue. The young noble girl's heart brimmed with anticipation, every movement charged with the mysterious attraction that drew her ever deeper into the spell of the half‑elf girl—wearing Andras's form.
The ballroom glowed with light, the musicians' melodies flowing one after another. Noelle, in the guise of the Young Wolf, led Amelia across the floor for half an hour. They danced six times together, each movement delicate and tender, as though a fairy tale had come alive. Amelia seemed to float with every step, her cheeks flushed, her eyes shining, and at every moment she felt the world vanish around her.
The guests watched in awe. To their eyes, the Young Wolf and Amelia's dance was the most beautiful; they were the finest pair of the evening. The crowd whispered in celebration, as though the true victors of the ball had already been crowned.
On the other side of the floor, however, the Princess and Eris stood somewhat disappointed.
"This is hopeless," the Princess sighed, her tone tinged with frustration. "The Young Wolf has defeated us six to zero."
Eris lowered her head, her voice heavy with guilt.
"We never managed to be better than them, not even once."
The Princess's eyes flashed, but she quickly gathered herself. In her heart pulsed the desire to prove herself in the next dance—and to finally have Eris's attention fixed solely upon her.