The Villainess Will Not Bring Dishonor To Her Family

18 - Evening Party at Salender Mansion - Part 4

I accept Lionel's hand without hesitance. At this point I can't really afford to hesitate. Honestly it comes down to a choice between Lionel and Gilbert.

Lionel, unlike Alstair grasps my hand firmly the second I put it in his, enough to make me jolt at first m. Though I had willingly placed my hand in his it felt like he was trying to keep me from fleeing. Honestly I already had my guesses at what was going on with his family, I just didn't know the extent of it.

I feel a change in energy as he, with a simple motion of his hand, turns me towards him. The song was already about midway, but thankfully it was one of those seemingly endless pieces.  We wouldn't be lacking time to finish our conversation.

Lionel puts his arm confidently around my waist, and moves his hand firmly on my back as he pulls me close.

The gap between us was gone in an instant.

I lift an eyebrow at this unexpectedly bold behavior. Is this okay? He's far closer to me than Alstair had been. Lionel straightens into an incredible posture and made a rock like frame around my smaller body.

"You're taking this seriously?" I questioned him without holding back my mocking tone. After all, we were going to talk while dancing. I wasn't quite prepared for dancing seriously meanwhile.

"Of course. I cannot dance with the prince's fiance without taking it seriously. It would look bad. The more serious the less connection we appear to have." He replies without any hint of a smile.

...I'm not sure I agree, and I end up letting out a soft sigh. Lionel pushes my back with his palm to get me in the correct position for him to lead. If he is taking it seriously then I can't afford to spare any effort either, or House Celeste will look like it loses to House Tepet even at dancing. I change my posture in an instant.

The waltz we were dancing is a very elegant dance, but there are specific things other than the steps and your body types, which determined your aesthetic beauty. The man's role was to lead. That meant more than to guide. He was to provide a frame for me. In case a man's partner was a bad dancer, he would have to be able to control her actions with his body, that was the frame. It would not be wrong for you to think of it as a vase for a flower. If the vase moves then the flower in it should too.

The frame Lionel provided would be compared to a rustic stone vase, whereas Alstair would be a glass vase at best. There was no way I could trip Lionel or get in the way. If I did Lionel be able to forcefully change the direction with ease. It was a rather forceful way of moving, but I didn't intend on resisting, that is not how this kind of war is waged.

I let my arm glide over his with a smooth movement and place the side of my hand on his shoulder. That was all that was needed. I didn't need my touch to be firm, for Lionel was already like a rock. Two rocks on a dance floor would be more of a comedy than anything else.

As a woman, I was to express myself the best I could within his firm grasp... and one more thing. A great part of the aesthetic beauty depends on me as well. The base may be made by him, but without a woman it is still only half a dance. I pull my stomach back to straighten my back and lift my collarbone to stretch the curve of my upper back and slide my head backwards without curling. As a result the part over Lionel's hand appears to pour over his well made frame. I stretch and strain every muscle in my frail upper body to keep this leaned back position, for I cannot lean on the arm behind me. I may lean back, but need to use muscle to hold myself up.

Try to sit straight and while keeping stretched and straight bend the upper part of your back. It really strains every part of you.

"...A lily..." I glance up to Lionel, and his eyes are rounded. I merely raise an eyebrow at his behavior. I'm only doing this seriously because I don't want to lose to him, that's all.