Quickly, the first dance was approaching. Deidelia, despite having warded off all potential suitors who could ask for her hand, was starting to feel the same sensation she always did. Snapping her fingers, she held out her hand, waiting for her fan, but nothing came.

"Lizz-" She stopped. 'Wait, she's not here... what's wrong with me?' she questioned. 'Since when did I start depending on that wench?' Thinking back, Listeria was surprisingly very dutiful; she almost never missed a beat, and when she did, it was usually corrected immediately.

'Perhaps I shou-' Her train of thought was cut off when a shadow loomed over her. "Who dar-"

"My name is Logan Di Duteron, crown prince of the Duteron Empire," he introduced himself. "Would you allow me the honor of your first dance, Princess Deidelia?" She slowly looked up, taking in his imposing stature.

'Why is this guy so tall?' was the first thought that struck her. 'I suppose he is a royal,' she mused before she realized she had left him standing and waiting for her response.

She glanced around. 'Ian...' He still hadn't even spoken to her. She spotted him at the table with Melody, leading her toward the dance floor.

A hand slowly extended to her. She noticed his white gloves; the crest of the Duteron Empire mixed very well with his black and red tailcoat. "My lady?" he asked, glancing back and seeing Deidelia's gaze linger.

Shaking her head, she slowly raised her hand and reluctantly accepted. "Yes, you may." They made their way to the dance floor.

The dance began, and Deidelia moved with grace and elegance. Her eyes would occasionally drift to Ian, who was dancing with Melody. Although the crown prince was dancing with a commoner, almost all eyes were on the odd pair.

"Even if she acts like a vile creature, none can deny Deidelia is the embodiment of elegance and grace."

"Sickening to think she dances like a fairy but cuts off limbs like a cannibal."

"I've heard rumors, but I never knew the crown prince of Duteron was so light on his feet."

"Of course, he single-handedly led the forces of the Duteron Empire to victory against those barbarians of the west."

"How shameful, dancing with a foreign prince over her fiancé. Has she no shame?"

"Did you hear? She had no escort? Her own father didn't bother to at least drop her off."

"The Beast of the Battlefield surely thinks he found a beautiful flower."

"Flower? More like swamp vine." The nobles in the crowd whispered and gossiped, doing the bare minimum to hide their words and expressions.

"Pay no heed to the sheep," Logan suddenly spoke to her. Deidelia just rolled her eyes as she tiptoed and glided across the dance floor.

"As long as they do not spout lies, I do not care," she answered curtly, Logan not expecting the remark.

He spun and lifted Deidelia in a graceful maneuver, leaving everyone astonished. Deidelia's eyes widened before she improvised and rolled into him, letting him catch her just as the song ended.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

Slightly out of breath, she glared at Logan. "That is not part of the common dance."

"There is nothing common about you," he answered back with a charming smile. She couldn't believe what she just heard. Her eyebrows crinkled as she quickly stood upright, making distance between them.

"Enough. I thank you for the dance, Prince Logan." She bowed, but immediately she knew something wasn't right.

The world began to spin ever so slightly, making her stumble forward. Logan immediately held out his hand and stopped her from tumbling onto the ground.

"Is something the matter?" he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

'What was that? Was it the dance? Why do I feel strange?' She could feel the contents of her stomach rising. 'I can't move my legs or open my mouth.' It was as if she had been at sea for hours on end. Slowly, panic started setting in. The chatter in the background became nothing but noise. She could vaguely hear Logan attempting to get her to respond, but in an attempt to not projectile vomit onto him, she felt her knees buckle.

'No, I cannot-' she didn't get to finish her thought as Logan grabbed her hand and led her to the balcony, leaving the onlookers confused and intrigued.

Immediately as they exited, she sprinted to the balcony, her conviction giving out partway through as bile and wine started running down her chin.

She made it just in time to unleash it all over the balcony, hurling every piece of content possible.

'I feel horrible...' she groaned as she felt her knees buckle but felt a gentle hand pat her on the back, triggering another wave of nausea to hit her. Unfortunately, she had nothing more to throw up. She just stood there, dry heaving.

"W-what did yo-" She tried to speak, but her chest hurt.

"W-what did you do...to me?" she asked in embarrassment and frustration. Logan lifted his hand quickly. 'Did he hold my hair back?' she questioned, immediately feeling another dry heave coming her way, causing her greater discomfort.

"Pardon my rudeness, Lady Deidelia. I just noticed your discomfort and thought you needed privacy. I had no idea it was so urgent, or else I would have acted sooner." Logan apologized as he took out a handkerchief and handed it to her. "Please use this." He offered.

She stood there, feeling disgusted. She had just thrown up in front of royalty. Her mind was running as fast as it could to think of an excuse, but even she had no idea why she felt ill. Every time he acted like a gentleman, the heave and nausea struck like a boulder.

'I don't think it was poison... I would have noticed. My previous nanny made sure of that.'

'Surely I'm not that fractured, am I?' She questioned as she tried to elegantly wipe away her stomach content, but having not thrown up in so many years, the sight of her own vomit made her even more queasy.

But while she turned her back to Logan to wipe in peace, the man stood at a crossroads. He could leave, but... 'Her night will end like this...'

Immediately, he pulled out another handkerchief and gently called to her. "My lady..." Deidelia's jaw clenched as she felt her insecurities start to surface.

'No! I built up my image to scare people away! Why hasn't he left? I don't care if you're a prince!'

"Leave! I have already shamed myself in front of an imperial prince. You need not pretend. I know you are disgusted." She said, but to her surprise, he walked to her side, turned her face, and took his handkerchief and started wiping her chin.

"If you do not tell anyone, then neither shall I. I will take this to the grave on my honor as a gentleman," he said, stunning her. He finished far faster than she had anticipated.

Before she had a chance to oppose him, he had already wiped her lips clean. "Unfortunately, I do not have any water on me. If you would allow me to accompany you to the lady's room to freshen up, I will do my best to stop anyone from talking to you until you have rinsed your mouth."

"Why are you not disgusted? Don't noblemen love dainty women who get blown over by a light breeze? My reputation precedes me, and I just brought it to reality," she asked, her frustration building.

"My lady, on the battlefield, I have witnessed far more than a beautiful woman yielding to her wine and casting the contents of her stomach over a balcony after an enchanting dance," he replied. "You may consider this your lowest moment, but even in your struggle, you remain as captivating as the very first da-time, I beheld you today." He finished as he corrected himself.

Immediately, she felt another dry heave coming as she turned to the balcony. "Stop, stop... I can't think straight. Every time you open your mouth, I feel sick to my stomach," she answered, although this sounded much harsher than she intended.

"I mean not lik-" Stopping herself. 'What am I doing?'

"All your sweet words make me sick, quite literally."