The music shifted to a gentle melody; the dance was drawing to its close.
Alsha finished her last spin, her left hand resting on Damian's shoulder as she leaned back against him.
Damian raised his left hand high, their fingers interlaced, while his right arm curled lightly around her slender waist.
They froze in the final pose. Damian was so close to Alsha that he caught the faint, intoxicating scent of red iris flowers in her hair.
Time itself seemed to slow.
In a dark corner of the hall, a young man in a deep purple coat wore a twisted expression.
A false smile lingered on his lips, but thick veins throbbed visibly at his temples.
Lady Alsha was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. From his very first glimpse, he had been hopelessly captivated.
Everything had been going so smoothly. After learning she loved Red Iris flowers, he had ordered exotic seeds from the south and even hired a skilled Wizard Apprentice to cultivate them.
He had won her favor—she had even personally sent him a bouquet of the newly bred red iris flowers!
But his joy was short-lived. His father, the former mayor—that wretched Old White—had also fallen for her after a single meeting.
The old man had actually presented her with the grand estate that their White family had held for generations!
The geezer actually thought he could steal his Alsha!
Only he was worthy of Lady Alsha's favor. Her beauty, her wealth, her status—everything should be his!
Their children would be the ones to inherit her title!
Fortunately, that old obstacle was no more. A cold, murderous glint flashed in his eyes.
"Sir… sir… sir?" a timid voice called softly, snapping him back to reality.
A young waiter holding a silver tray was staring in horror at the blood dripping from his hand.
"Sir, do you need help?"
Jack had crushed his wineglass in his grip. Jagged shards of crystal had sliced his palm open, and blood was running freely down his wrist.
Jack drew a slow, trembling breath and plastered that same false smile back onto his face.
"Lady Alsha's dancing is simply so exquisite that it carries one away. I was quite overcome. Could I have another glass? Thank you."
Just another fool bewitched by her, the waiter thought, forcing a polite smile as he quickly replaced the drink.
When the music finally ended, a wave of applause surged through the hall. The guests clapped enthusiastically.
Jack drained the fresh glass in one gulp, handed it back to the waiter, and joined the applause.
Back on the dance floor, Damian tightened his right arm and smoothly lifted Alsha back upright.
Once steady, she beamed at him. "Lord Damian, I never knew we moved so well together."
Damian smiled gently. "Lady Alsha, your skill is simply superb. Just listen to that applause. Every gentleman here is wishing they could finish the dance in my place."
Her smile widened. She leaned in dangerously close to his ear, so close that Damian could feel the warmth of her breath.
"After the banquet…" she whispered softly, her breath tickling his skin like an early-summer breeze. "Come find me in the back garden."
With that cryptic invitation, she gracefully slipped away.
The words left Damian puzzled, but Alsha was already mingling with the other guests, offering absolutely no further explanation.
There's no way. I haven't got a single drop of Veela blood in me, Damian muttered inwardly.
Yet her invitation sounded anything but innocent.
He exhaled slowly. Alsha was undeniably alluring—her charm was so potent it almost felt like Veela magic.
But he would see what game she was playing.
He wasn't particularly worried; before arriving at the manor, he had secretly crafted a Portkey just in case things went south.
Damian lifted a fresh glass from a passing tray and took a sip. The pale-gold wine tasted just like high-end champagne.
Glass in hand, he strolled back toward Link and Anna.
Link laughed as he approached. "Not bad at all! So, have you felt Lady Alsha's legendary charm yet?"
"She is captivating, and she dances superbly," Damian answered with a polite smile.
Link clinked his glass against Damian's and downed his drink.
"Well, brace yourself. Here comes another girl—you won't be getting any rest tonight."
Damian followed his gaze and spotted a fair-haired girl approaching them.
She curtsied gracefully, lifting the edges of her skirts. "Young Wizard, would you honor me with a dance?"
Damian's magical perception confirmed no magical aura came from her; she was an ordinary human. He smiled warmly. "Of course."
The banquet neared its end, and the band began to play their final piece.
At last, Damian was free. Exactly as Link had predicted, eager partners had practically lined up for him.
A fresh, handsome young wizard naturally drew intense curiosity, and many noble guests had actively sought introductions.
Some bold girls had even slipped him secret notes, though every single one of them was non-magical.
He had absolutely no intention of encouraging them.
He was still a minor, and right now, his only priority was focusing on growing stronger.
Ever since his parents were murdered by his Death Eater aunt, a deep, lingering sense of danger had haunted him.
For thirteen years, he had trained relentlessly, knowing with absolute certainty that the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters would eventually return.
This alternate Wizarding World offered endless new possibilities.
When the Dark Lord finally came back, Damian fully intended to be strong enough to walk away alive.
When the last chord faded, the guests began to leave. Damian discreetly asked an attendant to escort him to the back garden.
He stepped out onto the gravel path once again. Faint, warm light glowed from the carved magical stones lining the walkway.
In the center of the garden, a delicate fountain stood surrounded by beds of blooming Red Iris flowers.
Just behind the fountain hung a vine-woven swing chair, fresh green leaves still curling naturally along its wicker frame.
Alsha sat there quietly.
She was no longer wearing her lavish courtly gown, but rather a simple, pale dress that lent her an entirely different kind of charm.
If she had been a dazzling, unapproachable rose during dinner, right now, she looked like a fresh, delicate jasmine…
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