Amelia's heart was still pounding when Floralys, the elven woman of Greenwood, approached with graceful steps. Noelle, in the guise of the Young Wolf, had enchanted the young noble girl for half an hour, making her feel as though she had been walking among the clouds. But the dream was suddenly broken when Floralys's words cut in.
"Well then, Amelia, your half hour is up. Now it's my turn," she said firmly, though with a playful smile.
"What? Already?" Amelia gasped. "Then I must go…"
Noelle nodded gently toward her.
"Thank you for the dance, Amelia. We'll meet again."
"Yes, we'll meet again! Goodbye, Young Wolf," Amelia replied, her face flushed with a shy smile as she slowly stepped back.
Floralys leaned closer, her eyes gleaming mischievously.
"I see you've already bewitched two Silverwood girls."
Noelle smiled.
"Those long ears… You're an elf?"
"A wood elf, with long ears just the way you like," Floralys chuckled. "And a Mage, just like you. My name is Floralys Greenwood. A one‑hundred‑and‑eighty‑year‑old young woman, currently seeking a worthy husband. Would you like to touch my ears?"
Noelle, a little embarrassed but curious, asked:
"May I?"
"My ears—or my hand for the dance?" the elf teased, her eyes sparkling.
"Both, but let's dance first," Noelle replied.
Floralys laughed.
"Hahaha! How greedy you are."
"I heard there was an elf in the Kingdom," Noelle continued, "but in person you look different than I imagined."
"And how did you imagine me?" Floralys asked curiously.
"I don't know… with snow‑white hair and ice magic," Noelle answered.
"Hahaha! Those are the northern high elves," Floralys laughed. "Indeed, your half‑elf maid has snow‑white hair, doesn't she? Introduce me to her sometime—I think we'd have much to talk about."
"I'm sure Noelle would like to speak with you," Noelle said thoughtfully.
"Then it's settled," Floralys replied. "How about visiting your lodgings one day after the ball?"
"Agreed," Noelle nodded. "We'll discuss the details after the dance."
The musicians struck up a new melody, and upon the center of the floor stepped the wood elf and the half‑elf girl wearing the Young Wolf's form. The audience watched with keen curiosity, wondering what spectacle the dance of two mages would bring—already their first words had woven a peculiar attraction and playful tension between them.
In the glow of the dance floor, Floralys leaned closer, her eyes sparkling playfully as she posed a question to Noelle.
"And how do you like my elven features?"
Noelle, in the guise of the Young Wolf, paused for a moment before answering honestly:
"Hmm… your hair is beautiful, smooth and silky. Its light brown shade matches perfectly with your green eyes. When I look at you, it feels as though I'm embraced by the gentle spirit of the forest."
Floralys laughed coquettishly.
"You really know how to charm a girl, don't you?"
"That wasn't my intention," Noelle shook her head. "I only said what I felt."
The elf woman suddenly shifted to a more serious tone.
"What would you say if you married me? As mages, we would understand each other well. And you know what? If you choose me, you can even bring that half‑elf maid, Noelle, as your lover."
Noelle's eyes widened.
"Noelle… as a lover?!"
"Do you like the idea, hm?" Floralys asked provocatively.
"Perhaps we should get to know each other better first, don't you think?" Noelle replied, striving to remain calm.
"And what would you like to know about me?" the elf leaned closer, curious.
Noelle quickly steered the conversation toward magic to avoid the delicate subject.
"You're an earth mage, aren't you? How do you create your golem? What magical circles do you use? Do you strengthen it with earth runes? Can it act independently, or only follow commands? Can you summon only one large golem at a time, or several smaller ones with the same amount of power?"
Floralys's eyes lit up, and she burst into laughter.
"My magic interests you more than my marriage proposal, doesn't it? Hahaha! That's the mark of a true mage! I like you!"
To the audience, it was merely a dance. But in truth, it was a duel of minds between two mages. Beneath their words pulsed magic, curiosity, and mutual respect—slowly weaving into a strange, mysterious bond.
Noelle and Floralys's dance at the center of the ballroom was as if two elven hearts and souls had united. Their movements were graceful, elegant, and gentle, each step resonating with the magic they spoke of so passionately. They danced three times together, and in the eyes of the audience, once again the Young Wolf's pair was the most beautiful—this time with the wood elf mage, Floralys Greenwood.
The guests watched in awe, as though a scene from a fairy tale had come alive upon the floor. Amelia's dance had been beautiful, but beside Floralys the spectacle shone even brighter: the elven features, the harmony of their movements, and the serene elegance captivated everyone.
A shadow of frustration crossed the Princess's face.
"I can't believe it. With that elf woman, they showed an even more beautiful dance than with Amelia."
Eris nodded, his eyes gleaming with admiration.
"So elven women are not only beautiful, but they dance beautifully as well."
Yet Floralys's time passed swiftly. Fifteen minutes felt like half an hour, and as the melody ended, the elf woman bowed gracefully before stepping back. At the edge of the floor, Christina appeared in her festive gown, striding forward with determination.
"Now it's my turn," she said, her eyes flashing playfully as she stepped before the Young Wolf—Noelle in disguise—to claim her place in the dance.
The audience watched with eager curiosity, wondering what this next pairing would bring: Christina Silverwood and the Young Wolf. After the brilliance of the previous dances, everyone waited to see whether they would once again be the most dazzling pair—or if the Princess and Eris would finally surpass them.
Floralys bowed gracefully, then stepped back with a smile as Christina approached with determined strides.
"Well then, your fifteen minutes are over, Floralys. Now it's my turn," she declared, her eyes flashing playfully.
"I know, I know," the elf woman replied, almost coquettishly. "We'll speak again, my young mage."
"Thank you for the dance, Floralys," said Noelle—still in the guise of the Young Wolf—bowing politely.
"You're welcome, anytime," Floralys answered, before gliding back among the guests.
The ballroom presented a curious scene: Ironclaw had nearly devoured all the pastries at the Wolfwood table, while at the royal family's table, two master mages were already dead drunk, roaring with laughter as they recalled old tales.
Only fifteen minutes remained of the Royal Dance, and now Christina stepped onto the center of the floor to take her place beside the Young Wolf.
Noelle, still wearing Andras's form, knew this would be her final partner of the evening. Christina's eyes gleamed with determination, as though she sought not only to impress the audience but also to captivate the Young Wolf himself.
The music began anew, and the two Silverwood women—Amelia and Christina—had now both danced in succession with the heir of Wolfwood.
The guests watched with eager anticipation, wondering whether Christina and the Young Wolf's pairing would surpass the previous two, or if the Princess and Eris's final dance would remain the true highlight of the night.