Chapter Seventy-Five: The Dancing Barbie Doll

After Sakura Bell finished explaining her convoluted logic, she realized that Louis was ignoring her, simply sitting there sipping his tea. This threw her off so much that she forgot all the explanations she had prepared. Unable to bear the silence, Sakura Bell, lost in her anxious thoughts, finally broke down and began to sob, her head lowered in despair.

Eventually, when her tears had subsided and she hiccupped and looked up, she saw that Louis had finished his tea and was now absorbed in tinkering with a small, old-fashioned gramophone on the coffee table. He placed a record on it.

Sakura Bell blinked her tear-stained, peach-blossom eyes, bewildered by his intent.

It seemed that, despite Sakura Bell’s repeated, silent pleas for a tricycle ride, Louis still felt that idea a bit too undignified. Fortunately, he hadn’t forgotten his original purpose for coming here…

Cheerful music began to play, lively and bright.

Perhaps finding it amusing, Louis crossed one leg over the other, his foot bouncing to the rhythm of the music. After tapping his palm lightly on his thigh in time, Louis glanced at Sakura Bell and gestured invitingly toward a clear space in the parlor.

Suddenly, Sakura Bell understood, as if struck by lightning.

She bit her lip, trembling all over; the fur on her ears and tail bristled—this tune was often played at taverns around midnight, the kind to which the bar’s songbirds would dance.

A bit vulgar, to say the least.

Red Fox Den had played such music before—Lilith thought it was fashionable and cool. But Sakura Bell eventually found it vulgar and, after scolding her staff, had the music changed.

Red Fox Den might have a touch of the risqué, but it was an upstanding establishment. Why play such music? How could the distinguished Countess Sakura Bell show her face? What about the reputation of her family?

Seeing Sakura Bell shivering, Louis was momentarily speechless.

People in this era seemed especially conservative.

So… this music was special? He hadn’t noticed. He’d found the record in Director Triff’s desk drawer, listened to it, thought it lively, and assumed it was just an amusing collectible.

He recalled it contained eighteen tracks—eighteen caresses, indeed. Triff, that lecher, really lacked any sense of elegance.

This was awkward.

He hadn’t come here tonight with any particular intent—after all, there were plenty of people using his name, one more or less made no difference. He only meant to tease her a little, remind her to behave, listen to some music, and let her go.

But it seemed Sakura Bell treated this dancing affair as a matter of life and death, as if it would be better to kill her outright.

Surely it wasn’t that serious…

Curious, Louis listened in on Sakura Bell’s thoughts.

[He wants me to dance to this?]

[He actually wants me to dance this kind of dance?]

[I’ve won the grand prize, haven’t I?!]

‘???’

Suddenly, Louis felt a warm, gentle touch envelop his fingers. Looking down, he saw the excited, trembling Miss Sakura Bell. Her fiery gaze hooked him, and then, like a red fox leaping into snow, she rolled nimbly onto the carpet at the center of the parlor.

To the lively rhythm, clutching her Book of Songs, she elegantly kicked off her high heels and began to dance with joyful abandon.

She poured out her feelings, locking eyes with Louis, expressing everything within her through her dance and her gaze.

At Red Fox Den, she claimed to detest anything vulgar, yet now, each dance she performed seemed more provocative than the last.

Louis, too, claimed to despise vulgarity and to favor elegance. Yet from the moment the music started, his foot had been tapping in time, just like a jovial chieftain at an opera, thoroughly enjoying himself.

One song followed another; Sakura Bell danced as if possessed, her eyes burning as she watched Louis.

Outside, the carriage had arrived—the partner who’d circled half the city to fetch her for the charity ball knocked again and again at the door. But Sakura Bell seemed not to hear, lost in her lowbrow little dance.

Perhaps she truly didn’t notice the knocking, for the so-called important charity ball had long since been cast aside.

[My dear sister, forgive me. Go enjoy your time with your pretty boy. What I have tonight is far more important!]

She watched Louis’s every subtle movement with rapt attention. Whenever his fingers drummed the sofa armrest in time with the music, Sakura Bell’s heart would leap with joy.

Thanks to her tireless effort, Louis eventually nodded in approval from time to time.

Sakura Bell felt as if she’d received the greatest reward, almost moved to tears.

He nodded! He actually nodded at me!

Louis had indeed nodded, astonished by just how imaginative this lady was.

And amazed that such an old-fashioned dance tune could be performed by her in such… an entertaining way.

It was truly delightful.

Gradually, Louis couldn’t help but join in—he was too lazy to move from his spot, but occasionally he would flick his fingers as if manipulating a ‘dancing Barbie doll,’ correcting Sakura Bell’s movements. She learned swiftly, adapting and improvising with remarkable intuition.

She was perceptive, even adept at misinterpreting intentions.

And had quite a knack for getting herself into trouble.

“Papa, about the homework you left me… I didn’t do it…”

In the final two dances, the fox-spirit miss suddenly crawled over, wagging her tail on the coffee table, turning her head, looking at Louis with those big, dewy, peach-blossom eyes.

“But it’s not my fault, really!”

As she spoke, Sakura Bell wiped away tears, pouted, and turned her head away.

Louis’s brows rose, and he abandoned his intention of leaving soon.

He lingered for several more hours, giving this vexing fox-spirit a proper lesson.

[You have defeated a witch elite.]

[Magic +1]

[Experience +50]

[Tonight, you left her a little red flower as a reward; she was so happy, she cried multiple times.]

[Clearly, Miss Sakura Bell has two completely contrasting faces, and tonight, you witnessed them both in their entirety…]

[‘Another person understood—a world all the more intriguing.’]

When the midnight moonlight, pale as snow, poured onto the bed, the sweat-drenched Sakura Bell slowly awoke. By then, there was no one by her side.

Her eyes were swollen, her body sore all over, yet her excitement had not faded.

She pulled up the thin blanket, pressing a hand to her pounding heart. Everything that had happened tonight felt like a dream.

Indeed, she had been drawn into a dream world by that Faceless One from the warlocks’ dreamscape—a world intoxicating and unreal.

Intoxicating… yes, intoxicating.

He seemed… he seemed so young, far younger than she had imagined.

Strong as a dragon!

She even felt, absurdly, as if she were older than him…

But she was only twenty-seven…

How could that be…

Pushing aside these unrealistic thoughts, Sakura Bell gazed out at the enormous, round moon beyond the window.

She was more convinced than ever of the rumors—he truly did come from a warlock’s dream. Yes, he was real.

But he came from her own dream.

Sakura Bell suddenly recalled her sister’s secret confidences—how the girl sometimes suspected her kept pretty boy was a prince who walked out of her dreams…

The reason was laughable—simply because he’d put crystal heels on her feet.

Sakura Bell had taunted Oxicris about it for ages that day.

What prince ever walked out of a dream? There are only lovers, fathers, or those terrifying, awe-inspiring demons…

He matched every detail of her fantasy demon. Yes, he was exactly that—a dread, yet younger, warlock, like a Dark Lord…

And a man, at that!

He would need someone close to him.

He would need it…

She hoped he would visit again, weekly if possible.

She longed to dance for him, to be his favorite among all his dancing dolls.

[You seem to have accepted some of the rumors from Blackhorn Alley.]

[Sakura Bell never dreamed that one day, all the boasts she’d ever made would come true…]

[+1 Dancing Barbie Doll]

When Louis saw this narration message, he had just awakened in his dorm bed after returning late at night.

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