Chapter 155: Lessons, Lies, and a Reluctant King Who Taught His Future Bride To Dance
Chapter 155: Lessons, Lies, and a Reluctant King Who Taught His Future Bride to Dance
Elyn’s POV
"Firefly, you can’t be serious about me teaching you to dance, right?"
Zorathys asked me. He stood a few feet from me, close to the door to the grand hall which Vaelory had used to run out. He stared at me in disbelief, shadows pooling lazily at his feet like they were also too tired to move. His head was tilted, red eyes narrowed just slightly.
I nodded once.
"I am very serious about it, though," I told him.
He studied my face for a long moment, like he was searching for the punchline I hadn’t delivered yet.
"Firefly, don’t tell me," he said with a dramatic gasp. "You sent everyone away just because of this?"
Oh, that was so wrong on many accounts, but I wasn’t one to give myself away so easily after all.
I gasped dramatically. "How did you know?" I asked him. "Could it be that perhaps we are in sync already? I did hear that couples can be in sync when they are together. Perhaps that is it?"
He just gave me a look. "Firefly..."
"Zorathys, you got it right. I sent everyone away because of you," I told him dramatically.
His brows rose. Just a fraction. "That," he said calmly, "is one of the worst lies I’ve ever heard in my life."
I didn’t even flinch. There was no need to, especially since I was caught anyway, and here I thought I was good at it.
I nodded solemnly. "It’s a lie."
That earned me a blink that seemed like he was using all his strength to do it. Blinking was involuntary, so why did it even seem like a hassle for Zorathys?
Well, that wasn’t the issue now.
"I sent everyone away," I continued, folding my hands in front of me, "because I didn’t want anyone else here. I wanted it to just be us."
The silence that followed was... heavy. Not unpleasant. Just thick, like the air before rain.
Zorathys stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he asked, "Do you perhaps like having me around, Firefly?"
As if.
If he was a picture or a sculpture I could look at, then yes, I would have liked having him around.
I frowned slightly, thinking. "I would like having you around," I said carefully, "if you actually did some work instead of leaving everything to me."
He opened his mouth.
"But," I added quickly, "that isn’t happening. And it probably never will. Given the kind of person you are."
Then he laughed.
A soft sound at first, low and rough around the edges, like it had been dragged up from somewhere deep and unused. Even his laughter sounded tired, like it took effort.
"You’re mean," he said, amused.
"You’re lazy," I shot back.
That made him laugh again, longer this time. He lifted a hand in surrender. "Fair enough."
The shadows shifted, mirroring his movement, and for a moment I just watched him—this terrifying, ancient demon king in flip-flops, looking more beautiful than anyone I’d ever seen.
Argh.
I stepped closer.
The distance between us closed easily, naturally, like it had always been meant to disappear.
"Well?" I asked, looking up at him. "Are you going to teach me or not?"
He hummed, pretending to think. "Technically," he said, "I never outright said I would teach you how to dance."
I glared at him.
He immediately cleared his throat. "However," he added smoothly, "I did insinuate that I might, and so I will... try my best."
My expression broke instantly. I beamed at him before I could stop myself.
"Morthen told me," I said, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice, "that dancing is required of all demon nobility."
Zorathys waved a hand dismissively. "That is merely formality. You do not need to dance if you cannot."
"I want to dance," I said.
Zorathys yawned loudly. "Why?"
"Because I want to learn," I replied simply. "And preferably with someone who isn’t short."
He scoffed. "Short?"
"In the human realm," I continued, "the only person I ever danced with was my father. And we were both terrible at it."
Zorathys snorted. "I am certain your father—King Glitterbelly, was it?—is not good at much besides becoming fatter and shorter."
He knew my father’s name, I was sure of that. He was just pretending not to remember it, as was the case with Zorathys most times.
I gasped, playing the dutiful daughter. "That is my father you’re talking about."
He immediately mimed zipping his lips, eyes sparkling with barely contained amusement.
I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling.
With a lazy flick of his fingers, the music began.
It flowed through the hall softly at first, deep and rhythmic—something ancient and slow, like the heartbeat of the realm itself.
"Honestly," Zorathys said, glancing at me, "you do not need to truly know how to dance. I could simply use magic to make it appear as though you can."
I shook my head immediately. "No."
"No?"
"I want to know," I insisted. "I want to be able to dance for myself."
He studied me again, then sighed. "With what I witnessed moments ago," he said bluntly, "there is no way you will improve with just one lesson from me—even if I am the best dancer in the realm."
I narrowed my eyes. "Isn’t that title reserved for Azerion?"
Zorathys made a face like he’d just bitten into something sour. "That snake barely understands other demons. There is no way he knows how to dance."
I laughed, unable to help myself.
He stepped closer.
This time, he closed the distance.
I could feel the heat of him, the quiet power coiled beneath his relaxed posture. His shadows shifted, stretching along the floor, climbing the walls like curious onlookers.
"I will try my best," he said softly, "to teach you."
He paused, lips twitching.
"You are fortunate," he added, "that I am no longer tired after witnessing your... performance."
I glared at him again.
He smiled.
And then, gently—surprisingly gently—he took my hand in his.
His fingers were warm in mine. I noticed that—and I also noticed as the music swelled.