The Grand Ballroom of the Royal Palace was a kaleidoscope of light and sound. Crystal chandeliers, holding thousands of beeswax candles, hung from the vaulted ceiling like frozen waterfalls. The air smelled of expensive perfume, roasted swan, and hidden agendas.
Taylor stood at the top of the marble staircase, clutching her fan like a weapon.
"Structural analysis," she whispered to herself. "Load-bearing pillars at 10-meter intervals. Four exits. Two blocked by guards. Ventilation is poor. If a fire starts, the chimney effect will turn this room into an oven in three minutes."
"Stop muttering about ovens," Violet whispered, squeezing Taylor's arm.
Violet looked angelic in a white dress, but her grip was like a vice. She leaned close to Taylor's ear, her breath hot.
"Everyone is looking at you, Big Sister. They want to unwrap you."
Taylor flushed. The corset felt tighter than ever. Every breath was a shallow sip of air. The three bamboo grenades strapped to her left thigh felt heavy, the rough wood rubbing against her sensitive skin with every step she took.
*Swish. Rub. Swish. Rub.*
"Let them look," Taylor said, trying to project confidence. "I'm not here to be unwrapped. I'm here to find a killer."
***
[The Encounter]
They descended the stairs. The crowd parted. Taylor's silver hair and the deep blue dress that clung to her curves like painted water drew eyes from every corner of the room.
"Lady Taylor!"
A voice like wet gravel stopped her.
Blocking her path was a man who resembled a walrus stuffed into a velvet suit. He was sweating profusely, holding a goblet of wine in a hand that looked like a bunch of sausages.
[System Analysis]
Name : Baron Hogg
Role :The unwanted suitor
Hygiene :Negative
Threat :Sexual Harassment
"Baron," Taylor said, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"You look... edible," Hogg grunted, his eyes roaming shamelessly over her chest, lingering on the heaving swell caused by the corset. He reached out a clammy hand to grab her waist. "Come. Let us dance. I want to feel the merchandise before I buy."
Taylor suppressed the urge to knee him in the groin. "I am feeling faint, Baron. The heat..."
"Nonsense!" Hogg lunged.
But before his greasy fingers could touch the blue silk, a black-gloved hand intercepted him.
"I believe the Lady promised this dance to me."
The voice was smooth, dark, and commanded instant obedience.
Taylor looked up.
Standing there was a man she hadn't met, but recognized from the game's lore (or was it Arthur's memory?). He was tall, wearing a black military uniform with silver aiguillettes. He had raven-black hair and eyes the color of cold steel.
**Duke Kaelen of the North.** The King's nephew. The "Cold Duke."
Hogg turned pale. "Your... Your Grace! I didn't know!"
"Leave," Kaelen said softly.
Hogg scrambled away like a frightened rat.
Kaelen turned to Taylor. He didn't smile. He looked at her with an intensity that made her skin prickle.
"Lady Taylor," he said, offering his hand. "Shall we?"
Taylor hesitated. Dancing with the Duke was dangerous. But refusing him was suicide.
"It would be an honor," she said, placing her hand in his.
***
[The Friction of the Dance]
He pulled her onto the dance floor. The orchestra began a slow, heavy waltz.
Kaelen's hand was large and warm on her waist. He didn't hold her politely; he pulled her flush against his chest, eliminating the gap between them.
"You are tense," Kaelen murmured, looking down at her.
"I'm not used to... this," Taylor breathed.
Because of the height difference, she had to look up, exposing her neck. Kaelen's gaze dropped to her throat, then lower, to the straining lace of her bodice.
They moved. Step, turn, slide.
The motion caused the grenades on her thigh to shift.
*Slip.*
The leather garter slid down an inch. The bamboo tube pressed harder against her inner thigh, right near the sensitive skin where the leg met the hip.
"Nnkh!" Taylor let out a small, involuntary sound, biting her lip.
"Are you in pain?" Kaelen asked, his hand tightening on her waist, his fingers digging slightly into the soft curve.
"No," Taylor gasped, her face burning. "Just... the corset. It's tight."
"It is very effective," Kaelen noted dryly.
He spun her. The centrifugal force pushed the grenades outward, straining the garter. The friction against her skin was maddening. It felt illicit. Every step sent a jolt of sensation up her leg.
"You smell of... sulfur," Kaelen whispered, leaning close to her ear. His lips brushed the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "And lavender. An explosive combination."
Taylor froze. *Sulfur? Did he know?*
"I... I was visiting the hot springs," she lied quickly.
"Is that so?" Kaelen slid his hand lower down her back, resting it just above her hips. The heat of his palm burned through the silk. "You are full of secrets, Lady Taylor. The soap. The latrines. The sudden competence."
He spun her again, dipping her low. Her chest pressed against his uniform. She could feel the hard buttons of his jacket against her soft skin.
"Tell me," Kaelen whispered, his face inches from hers. "Who are you really?"
Taylor's heart hammered against his chest.
*Does he know? Is he "A"?*
Before she could answer, the music swelled to a crescendo. Kaelen pulled her upright, his body brushing against her thigh—right over the hidden grenades.
He paused. His eyes narrowed. He had felt the hard lump under the dress.
"What is on your leg?" he asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl.
Taylor panicked. She couldn't say "bombs."
"It's... a medical brace," she stammered, flushing a deep crimson. "For... a weakness in the knee."
Kaelen stared at her. Then, slowly, the corner of his mouth twitched upward. A smirk.
"A brace," he repeated. "High on the thigh?"
"Very high," Taylor squeaked.
"I see." Kaelen leaned in, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "I didn't take you for the adventurous type, Lady Taylor. To wear such... toys... to a Royal Ball."
[System Alert]
[Misunderstanding Generated: 100%]
[He thinks it's a sex toy.]
[Dignity: Critical Failure]
Taylor wanted to die. She wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. He thought she was wearing something kinky.
"It's not what you think!" she hissed.
"I judge no one's pleasures," Kaelen said, releasing her waist as the music ended. "But be careful. If it slips... it might cause a scene."
He bowed, his eyes mocking her.
"Save the next dance for me. I am curious to see how long you can last."
He walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
Taylor stumbled back toward the wall, her legs trembling. The sweat was trickling down her back now. The garter was slipping further.
"My Lady!" Luna appeared with a glass of punch. "You look flushed! Was the Duke a good dancer? Did he ravish you with his eyes?"
"He ravaged my sanity," Taylor wheezed, grabbing the punch and downing it in one gulp. "I need to fix my... brace. Bathroom. Now."
But as she turned to leave, the lights flickered.
Once. Twice.
Darkness.
The chandeliers went out.
Screams erupted in the ballroom.
"Now," Taylor whispered, her hand going to her thigh. The embarrassment vanished. The engineer returned.
She reached under her skirt, hiking it up shamelessly in the dark to grab the bamboo tube.
The game was on.