In the Name of Empress-Chapter 370 - 256: No One Understands a Girl’s Heart Better Than I Do
Actually, Sif didn’t want to dance the first dance with Alina, but she had no choice.
She was the most important guest of the evening, and by convention, her first dance should be with a Jin Yuan Kingdom person, as the host of the banquet.
If Roland weren’t there, she might not have cared about these things, as long as she didn’t take off her gloves while dancing, unnecessary physical contact could be avoided.
But Roland was already by her side.
At some point, she began to consciously or unconsciously consider Roland’s thoughts.
Did Roland want her to do this?
She wasn’t sure, but she was very certain that dancing with Alina wouldn’t make anyone uncomfortable.
Including herself, of course.
So she took the initiative to invite Alina.
Alina was only slightly surprised and accepted the invitation.
Though she internally wished it was Roland inviting her for the first dance, that was obviously unrealistic.
Given the generally conservative style of the Sussex people and Sif’s ambiguous relationship with Roland, stepping into the dance floor with Roland in front of Sif would definitely displease the Empress.
Sif was there to help, and she had no reason to upset Sif.
Thus, the two unconsciously chose each other as dance partners.
When Alina placed her hand on Sif’s palm, the gentlemen in the room all cast envious glances.
The two most feminine and noble ladies in the room both had dance partners.
These two ladies were special, they would likely only dance once, and the following invites could gracefully be declined.
The opportunity to admire the noble and beautiful ladies up close was thus gone.
While envious, the guests present also pondered another question, which of the two ladies had more feminine allure?
Alina, wearing a purple evening dress symbolizing nobility, was undoubtedly the brightest star of the night.
Her sleek long hair was slightly tied up, not styled into a married woman’s bun, combining the innocence and charm of a young girl with the alluring appeal of a mature woman.
Her ivory-like delicate skin shone brilliantly under the lights, making her exceptionally striking.
Every part of her attire was uniquely crafted, from the golden iris brooch on her chest to the hollow gold bracelet on her wrist, all exuding the grandeur of a sovereign and the pure romance of a youthful girl.
Her facial features were flawless, and the faint golden frame of her glasses expertly concealed the solemnity in her eyes.
No matter how picky, it was hard to find a single flaw in her.
People recalled stories circulating nationwide recently.
The Saintess Fuchou had returned from the flames, leading everyone on a path to freedom.
No one doubted the existence of the Saintess Fuchou anymore.
The Saintess Fuchou was Alina, right in front of everyone at that moment.
Though Alina was almost flawless, she was still not perfect.
Because Sif arrived.
Alina was merely near-perfect, while Sif was the incarnation of perfection.
When people reluctantly tore their gaze away from Alina to look at her dance partner, their souls seemed to freeze in that instant.
She walked from a dimly lit area elegantly, resembling a magnificent painting slowly unfolding, an elf emerging from a sea of flowers and groves.
Sif had not dressed up deliberately today, with only her lips adorned with a light crystal gloss.
Her eyes shimmered with a mysterious color, visible yet indistinguishable, filled with vitality, like windows leading to a sea of flowers.
Her smile was faint, and her dimples, budding with life, embraced the whole resplendent spring.
She wasn’t wearing a trailing evening gown, but a simple lady’s dress.
On this grand night where ladies strove to outshine one another, her unadorned appearance stood out as transcendently beautiful, with a serene, independent bloom rather than seductive charm.
Her presence made the elaborately made-up ladies look as vulgar as pink light fixtures.
Even Alina, in front of her, seemed somewhat eclipsed.
Just her simple entrance stole all the colors from the hall, as if reducing others to black and white, with only a few managing to exhibit color within her realm.
Alina sensed this unusual change, and couldn’t help but grip Sif’s hand a little tighter.
Noticing Sif’s puzzled gaze, she slightly bowed her head, apologizing with a blush for her faux pas.
"Sorry."
Sif smiled and shook her head, reaching out to embrace Alina’s waist, casually seizing control of the dance.
It was well-known that social dances required someone to play the male role.
Alina and Sif were both girls, making the male role assignment rather subtle.
When they first entered the dance floor, both were still inclined to play the female role, instinctively waiting for their "partner" to hold them by the waist, providing support to maintain their footing.
As they realized the absence of a male dance partner in this dance, they simultaneously reached for each other’s waist.
These actions were initially unconscious, but upon recalling the male and female roles in this dance, their attitudes shifted somewhat.
The male dancer controlled the rhythm of the entire dance.
In their hearts, they were more eager to become this crucial role.
Even if it was just one dance, they hoped to maintain relative dominance in front of each other.
Perhaps it’s an innate aversion among beautiful women, neither of them wanted to be overshadowed by the other.
Alina, slightly taken aback, exerted force, almost turning the dance into a struggle; in a moment of confusion, Sif had already gained the upper hand.
She could certainly resist, but using body techniques in the elegant dance music would be too impolite.
Moreover, Sif’s personal combat power far surpassed hers.
She had only just touched the threshold of Tier Seven, with one foot in, while Sif’s strength was outstanding even among Tier Seven.
If she resisted, she would be the one taken down.
That would be even more humiliating.
Having lost the initiative, Alina had no choice but to follow Sif’s rhythm, gracefully dancing along.
In the dance floor, a dozen pairs of dancers spun in irregular circles.
The men’s gazes were all directed at Alina and Sif, suddenly unsure whether to envy the embraced Alina or Sif, temporarily acting as the male dancer.
The ladies bit their crimson lips, with a mix of admiration and a tinge of jealousy.
They dressed meticulously, choosing the best gowns and jewelry, to showcase themselves at the first banquet after the new ruler took power, not to become someone’s backdrop.
Even if the ones overshadowing them were Liberator Alina and Count Tyrone’s Sif, it was still unacceptable.
Everyone is the protagonist of their own life, who would willingly be the supporting role?
Everyone present is a social elite, a person who holds resources at the top.
For the gentlemen, accustomed to being the center of attention, occasionally playing the supporting role is a refreshing experience, with the bonus of admiring the top beauties of two great nations, which is a rare joy.
But for these ladies, those who stole their dazzling colors were undoubtedly loathsome.
They quickly thought of the rumors between Roland and the Empress, and the originally tense faces finally relaxed a bit.
In the face of absolute power, a beautiful shell is just a bonus, not an absolute advantage.
Although many knew that Sif was Sylph, not everyone did.
Most noblewomen attending tonight’s banquet were unaware.
They even secretly rejoiced that Sif had to sneak around to meet Roland, hiding from Empress Sylph.
This mindset is quite common.
If they can’t have it themselves, they hope others can’t either, which keeps things balanced.
Sif did not care about these glances.
She stared at Alina, giving Alina no chance to change roles.
This is the dance floor, and there is a silent understanding between them not to use movements beyond dance to gain the upper hand.
Sif had already seized the initiative, but Alina was not without opportunities.
With graceful steps, Alina tried to escape Sif’s annoying slender hands through a spinning move, placing her own hands on her waist.
However, she found no opportunity at all.
In combat, Sif was indeed an extraordinary genius.
Every time she moved, she could nimbly avoid the direction of Alina’s force, rendering all the strength Alina could muster under the rules of dance useless.
She was like a clear spring; no matter how strong Alina’s hands were, they could only stir up a few splashes in the spring.
While they were exerting themselves through dance movements, Lisa, dancing beside Roland, frowned and glanced at them.
"Something’s not right,"
Lisa murmured softly.
Roland squinted his eyes; he wasn’t blind and could certainly see that something was amiss.
These two folks could go into battle and cut down dozens of enemies without breaking a sweat, and now a single dance had them breaking out in sweat on their foreheads, clearly not normal.
Roland and Lisa exchanged a glance and spoke simultaneously:
"They’re fighting!"
"They’re competing!"
Though not the same word, their thoughts were essentially identical.
Roland was even more puzzled. Although these two weren’t particularly close, they were prominent political figures; surely, they wouldn’t start a fight at a ball?
People of their caliber, if conflicts arise, there must be a reasonable cause.
Roland fell into deep thought.
Sif supported Alina in restoring her country only to hope for more benefits after the war.
If it were just this conflict, it wouldn’t lead to such a direct confrontation at the ball; they could sit and talk it out slowly.
Although he noticed the problem, Roland decided not to intervene.
It’s better not to intervene because once you do, it gets more complicated.
It’s well-known that when girls fight, the worst person to intervene is a man who is on good terms with both. Without intervention, it’s fine; once you do, it becomes endless.
If one dares to intervene, the two girls might temporarily put down their conflict but would immediately throw a soul-searching question at him.
"Which side are you on?"
Saying you’re neutral is definitely not acceptable, and choosing a side is absolutely out of the question.
The only solution is to muddle through with various means given the context.
Roland admitted he didn’t have this ability, so he simply chose not to cause trouble.
Fortunately, the dance music only lasted a few minutes, so it wouldn’t lead to an actual fight. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖
When the time was up, each returned to their place, and the matter ended.
Roland breathed a sigh of relief, not paying attention to his feet and accidentally stepped on Lisa.
Before he could apologize, Lisa already placed her fingertip on his lips.
"No need to apologize for such a small matter. Are you guessing what caused their conflict?"
Roland’s eyes brightened.
He didn’t understand girls, but Lisa, being a girl of a similar age to them, surely did.
"Yes, do you know why?"
"Of course, I understand girls’ thoughts better than you do." Lisa said confidently, lowering her voice, and leaned slowly towards Roland’s ear.
The moist airflow lingered at his ear, tickling slightly, arousing Roland’s gossipy curiosity.
"Tell me quickly."
Lisa lightly coughed, leaned closer to his ear, and softly said, "They both like you, so they started fighting."
Roland: "..."
He indeed was wrong; he shouldn’t have listened to Lisa’s nonsense.
"Sister, did you see over there?"
"Yes, it’s the newly served delicious seafood buffet."
"In a moment, go over there and eat heartily; don’t worry about anything else."
Lisa nodded with a smile but was still a bit puzzled, "And then?"
"No ’then’, eat more and talk less."
