Chapter 41: The Lady is Weak (1)

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Ernest held Amber' hand in his and escorted her to the dance floor. Amber was filled with trepidation; she tried to breathe calming breaths to settle her nerves. The conductor raised his baton, and the orchestra began to play; it was an elegantly sweet waltz.

'Are you nervous, Amber? Ernest asked. He must have noticed her grave expression. He held her slender waist drawing her slightly closer,

'I'm alright…' she replied although she was not. She nervously tried to convince herself that she was fine.

For now, she should try not to thread of his feet.

Her evening shoes were high heels, if she were to step on him with such shoes it would be a catastrophe.

Ernest pulled her closer to him, 'A waltz is easier if we dance close together.' he said with a smile as he began to waltz her across the floor. Though he was leading, Amber was a clumsy dancer. Amber had not been born with the skill of dancing.

Take a diagonal step.

Take a back step.

Although she had learned dancing since she was a child, she had never quite gotten it. So she had to concentrate hard while dancing.

Dancing was a must for a noble; whether male or female.

To that end, she had dutifully practiced.

"Why can't Amber dance well?" No matter how many times the innocent blade was thrown at her, Amber continued to practice.

However, people had areas in which they were weak. In spite of practicing a lot, Amber could only dance stiffly.

Because of this, it was hard for the gentleman leading. When she thought of that, she remembered Damian; he had said to her the first time they danced together,

"It's alright, Lady Amber, everyone has something they aren't good at," in his characteristic serious manner.

She knew that he was only being kind, but his words struck a blow. She became afraid she would not be able to dance as a true lady.

Reliving the awkward memory made Amber stiffen but Ernest stroked her hips.

She sighed. Her body knew the comfort of Ernest's hands so his stroke-induced a sweet numbness in her making her relax. Amber glared at him,

'What are you doing?' she whispered trying not to catch the attention of the other dancers, but embarrassing things are embarrassing.

How could he do that while they were in the midst of a ball? But Ernest had a rakish smile on his lips,

'Shall we do some special training?' he asked.

'Eh? In...Ernest!'

Ernest's golden eyes turned heated and smoky as his hand stroked the curve of her back. Even though her dress, his heated touch reminded her of their nightly passions, and a small thread of pleasure began to grow from between her legs. She wondered how deeply Ernest was becoming ingrained into her.

Ernest continued to stroke her awakening her sensuality.

'Now, concentrate on dancing with me,' he said.

'Oh but I can't…'

'It's my fault, but if you step on my foot, I might punish you more.' he said in her ear.

How could he say such outrageous things?! He was a tyrant.

She did not want him to tease her or do something mortifying at the ball.

Ernest's golden eyes caught her violet ones,

'But, I'm not good at dancing.' she said.

'Is that so?'

'If you know, stop making mischief.'

With his teasing, she would likely have weak knees and fall or step on him.

But Ernest smiled, his affection for her aglow in his eyes as he said, 'But I think you're dancing well enough.'

'Hm?'