POV: Hae Na Ri
I am burning with curiosity as he leads me somewhere through the hallways. Our coats have been taken by the maids after getting out of the elevator.
I have never been on the second floor before. I come across only one or two cameras in certain places, like the floors below it. It's pretty much the same as downstairs, except for less maids and more guards at every turn and corner.
This must be the floor where Hajoon spends more time.
In a wide corridor, he opens a beautiful door with golden carvings of dragons and blue sky and clouds painted artistically on it. I follow him inside just as he flicks on some switch. A gasp leaves my mouth, my eyes going wide.
It's the most beautiful hall I have ever seen!
No–not just a beautiful hall. A magnificent hall with chunks of mirrors on the ceiling, sky, rivers, sea and dragons painting all over the high walls, and an enormous circle with the deep blue and white forming waves in the center of the hall.
My feet slowly edge forward, peering at my reflections in the ceilings in more than a hundred mirrors. It makes me want to take flight like a swan. A painful longing for my ragged dancing shoes goes through me.
"It used to be a ballroom," Hajoon says. "My father emptied it and turned it into a dance room for my mother." Traces of some fond memories cloud his face for some moments.
Then he strolls over to the only piece of furniture in the hall. It's a small table with a saxophone and a shoe box. He removes the lid of the box and brings it to me. A pair of lovely baby pink ballet slippers rest inside.
"I had them prepared, so they don't feel too stiff," he says.
Slowly, I grab the shoe box and gaze up at him.
"What's wrong?" A charming line appears between his brows in bafflement.
"Nothing," I say. "Thank you."
He is being nice and thoughtful. Regardless of whether it's just kindness on his part, or something else, I want to take the shoe box, close my eyes and pretend that the world is all sunshine and daisy. And I do exactly that.
Something is amiss here.
But I will put that aside for now.
Ryu Hajoon cared. He was thoughtful. I don't want to be a bitter, ungrateful person who forever remains unmoved by every nice act.
"Thank you," I repeat and this time, I smile at him. "I will try them."
I sit down on the floor, the marble cold underneath me, and change my shoes. The skin on the balls of my feet and sides of the big toe is calloused and slightly cracked. The bruising on nails has gone down since I stopped dancing.
But still conscious of it, I quickly put on the slippers, tighten the drawstrings and tug them inside the shoes. Snug and soft, they fit perfectly. Hajoon's dark eyes watch me silently.
Ballet slippers are lightweight and you can feel the floor through them. I arch my spine, feeling my body come alive. With deliberate, controlled steps, my feet float over the foaming waves of the sea. I have never had such a beautiful room to myself.
Arm outstretched, my body twirls softly.
This time I know I am not imagining it. It's the gaze of a man.
It doesn't mean anything, I say to myself. It just means he is a man, nothing else.
But the bright hall feels dim and warm. I don't miss the parting of his lips, the stillness of his chest.
It causes me to stop
My arms outstretched above my head, slowly coming down to my sides like feathers falling through air. My heels touch the floor. With just a few steps between us, I turn towards him.
His unblinking stare, its intensity catches me off guard just as he breaks it and glances away.
"Why did you stop?" he asks, his deep delicious voice echoing in the vast hall.
"I am tired…" My words come out in a sort of whisper.
Once again his eyes flick to my neck, then back to my face. It's got to be my neck because I am not wearing low cleavage. My cheeks flush at that thought.
"That's a shame," he says. Such a simple mark is laced with a hint of something shameless. His face doesn't change much, but there is a devilish smile in his eyes.
I bite my bottom lip and it occurs to me that Mrs. Kang has it all wrong. It's the other way around.
It's not me who is trying to seduce him.
He is the one trying to seduce me.
Is this king a player? Wouldn't be surprising.
I want to go over, gently close his shameless eyes with my hands, and whisper in his ear, "Why is it a shame?"
And my feet nearly betray me! I take a step unconsciously, then stop myself. Flirting back with him will be like playing with fire. I have enough burns already.
"Goodnight, Your Majesty!" I say abruptly, then hurriedly grab my shoes. His hands unclasp as if thrown off.
But I ignore that and force myself to walk calmly out of the door.
Ha, I didn't fall for his flirtatious, charming tricks that he has probably played on a hundred women before. So proud of myself, I think as my heart pounds wildly in my chest, cheeks still hot.
In the corridor, I pause. I scowl at myself.
I am acting like a fool!
There is nothing to run away from. And didn't I have something to say to him? I have a feeling this is the right moment.
Determined, I clutch my shoes tighter and turn back. When I open the door a little, he is standing in the same spot. He looks up, startled.
I think I saw him smiling for no reason with his head lowered.
I cluck my tongue inwardly. Aiyo, there are all sorts of mad people in the world…
"Your Majesty, I had a question," I say, still standing in the doorway.