Omni POV
The doors to the grand ballroom swung open, admitting Lex into a sensory overload of wealth and status. He like every other boy here (except for the prince and his team) simply wore the Academy uniform a stark contrast to the sea of flowing silks and gaudy colors filling the hall.
He was alone, having left Leon, Daniel, and Raymond drowning in their dating woes and shared commiseration. As he'd left their dorm, he'd received a barrage of glares that silently screamed "Traitor!" mixed with a few grudging "Good lucks."
Lex scanned the opulent crowd, ignoring the whispers about the "Country Baron" who had somehow secured a date for one of the most important social event of the year, said date was even a second year plus the daughter of an Earl.
He was looking for one person: the vibrant, orange-haired girl who had stolen his thoughts since their afternoon outing two days before.
He didn't see her immediately among the swirling mass of dancers. The music swelled around him—a sophisticated waltz that felt alien to his countryside nature.
Just as he was about to check the lounge area, he felt a light, almost hesitant tap on his shoulder.
He turned, and the ballroom, the music, the whispers, and the towers of gold and silver coins in his memory simply evaporated.
Standing before him was the most stunning girl he had ever seen. The "gyaru" look was gone, replaced by a vision of classic elegance.
Clarice Fia Atlee wore a flowing gown of deep emerald green silk that contrasted breathtakingly with her voluminous orange hair, which was pulled back into a sophisticated, elegant chignon. The dress was designed for a woman of her high standing, yet it felt like a costume she wore just for him, as it was a sharp contrast to her usual style.
Her red eyes sparkled, and a bright, genuine smile was plastered across her face, though the tips of her ears were a light shade of pink.
Lex froze. He stared, completely starstruck, for what seemed like eternity to Clarice l.
He finally managed to clear his throat, the words feeling clumsy and inadequate after a beat of silence.
"You... you look wonderful, Clarice."
A deep blush immediately spread across her cheeks, deepening the pink on her ears. She looked away for just a second,
"I told you, call me Reece" she added with a whisper.
A shy, almost nervous energy surrounding them both—a stark contrast to their usual laid back attitudes.
She looked back at him, her smile softening into something entirely new and hopeful.
"Well then, Baron Bartfort," she said, her voice soft but sure, offering him her hand. "Aren't you going to ask me for a dance?"
Having been, called out, was stupefied for a moment, and that was all Clarice needed to drag him to the center of the ballroom.
Lex placed a hand on her waist, his touch firm but respectful, and took her hand.
They moved about the floor, initially stumbling slightly. Lex moved like a man accustomed to the battlefield, and Clarice, accustomed to grand balls but currently battling a wave of shyness, tried to follow his lead.
But as the waltz swelled and they turned across the polished floor, the vast, opulent ballroom started to fade. The glares from the jealous masses, the chatter of the other students—all of it dissolved into a soft hum.
The music wasn't just background noise anymore; it was the rhythm of their shared moment.
Lex wasn't thinking about, anything anymore. He was just looking at her. Really looking at her.
Her vibrant orange hair wasn't just a style; it was wild and beautiful and completely her.
Her eyes, wide and focused only on him, held the sincerity he had never knew, but now knew he could never live without.
Clarice saw the same sincerity in him. He wasn't the "dreg" or "uncultured" brute everyone else whispered about.
He was focused, solid, and safe. His golden eyes weren't calculating a trade or a social advantage; they were just observing her, the person underneath the makeup and the title.
Their movements became more fluid, synchronized. Like they were the only two people in the room.
Lex dipped her low, her hair brushing the floor, their faces mere inches apart. He saw the small scar above her eyebrow he hadn't noticed before, the way her lipstick was slightly imperfectly applied. She saw the intense focus that characterized him, the calluses on his hands from training.
She smiled then, a wide, genuine grin that made her eyes sparkle with unguarded happiness. Lex responded with a rare, soft smile of his own, one he only usually reserved for Family and friends and now it seemed she too was now part of the group.
The waltz came to an end, the music swelling to a final chord. Lex guided Clarice back up, his hand remaining on her waist for a beat longer than necessary.
The world rushed back in—the whispers, the glares, the music of the party. But as their hands separated, the connection remained. They had seen each other, truly seen each other, and the night was just beginning.
As they were now quenching the thirst they had built up dansing they heard it.
"I've had it with you, you even have the gal to flirt with him in a public setting like this now?"