Gigi was petrified as if a lightning bolt just struck over her body. Her husband stood in the doorway, seemingly aware of their entire conversation. "Sire, how kind of you to join us this afternoon! I just got Junior new coloured markers from Praja. Let's help him decorate his notebook!" she chirped, trying to derail the conversation.

The Emperor flashed a wily smile, arms folded over his chest. "There's no need for you to pretend, Gianita. I heard everything. Bribing Junior to teach you waltz, such an interesting plan."

"Father, she wasn't asking for a bad thing. Gigi was really nervous about dancing at the banquet. I'm just trying to help her," convinced Junior, blinking his doe eyes innocuously at his father.

Petting his son's head, Cal directed his gaze at Gigi. "If you face any troubles from my requests, I'd appreciate it if you'd come to me for a solution."

Gigi clenched her fists. "The problem is—" The problem is, she wasn't even sure if he wanted her to go to him. "Even though I've known it and have seen it numerous times, I have never learned to waltz. I never tried it once... The banquet night is of utmost importance to both of our nations!"

"So you assume I'd let you embarrass yourself on the night of your coronation?"

"Well..." she sighed, fiddling with her fingers. It's difficult to convey her struggles in a way that did not fault him to a degree. "So, I guess you would hire a dance instructor for me?"

"You won't need to hire anyone. I'll teach you myself."

***

It's been agreed upon that Cal would teach her how to dance, although Gigi had yet to let it sink in. Right after dinner, he took her into a vast lavish hall that would later serve as the venue for the banquet. A huge gramophone was placed on the corner, sending echoes of violin and cello instrumental arrangement throughout the room as he put it on play.

"The most fundamental step of dancing is actually just walking," he explained as they started practising. "You hold your partner in a gentle embrace to make a body to body contact."

Taking her left hand, Cal then placed it over his arm while taking her other hand into his. Gigi held her breath as he wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing them closer to each other. It was the first time they had ever been this ever since their wedding night.

Soon, he began to lead her into what he called the 'walking steps'. A gentle back and forth sway, noting only to step on the first and fourth beat.

"Why are you wearing flat shoes?" The Emperor asked as he set eyes upon her feet.

"They're much easier to walk in, Sire," Gigi replied, awkwardly. She wouldn't want to get blisters from roaming around the palace, and the flats were closer to the design of Prajan mule shoes, which was very low-heeled.

He arched his brow. "I thought women are more than willing to pay the painful price of beauty."

"While we do, one would prefer to get comfortable walking in her own home."

"Fair, but at the banquet you're going to have to wear proper shoes, especially if we're going to bridge that height gap, it's easier to dance if your partner is in level with your eyes."

Did he just call her... short?

"I don't think that my height is any problem. In fact, I am considered tall for a woman in Praja," Gigi argued, fixing her loosening hold over his arm. "I am not short. You are just too tall."

Cal let out a soft chuckle, leading her to spin in their steps, which turned out to be harder than it seemed. Sometimes it was impossible to keep up with the pace, she ended up tripping over her own foot.

"Relax, Gi," he told her calmly. "Right foot forward."

Wait... what did he just call her?

"....You wouldn't want to— Ouch!"

Gigi stumbled backwards, eyes widened and hands over her mouth. She just stomped on him, hard; she was quite sure she could've broken his toes. Did Angletonia have laws about desecrating the Emperor's body? Cause Praja did in fact had one.

Oh gosh, he would throw her out, or worse, exile!

"Gi—"

"Your Imperial Majesty!" she shrieked, clasping her hands together in front of her face, head hung low. "I-I deeply apologized for what happened, please know that I never meant you any harm, Your Magnificence!"

"Huh?"

"I am deeply ashamed to have hurt you... I beg that My Lord Emperor would accept my sincere apology," she halted as he saw her looming over her face.

"What are you doing?"

Lifting her head, she gawked at him with hands still clasped together. "...Apologizing."

Cal burst into laughter as if he'd never came across such a thing. "Well don't you worry about it, it's just a stamp!" he continued tittering. "I forgive you if that makes you feel any better."

"But I trampled over your foot!"

"You are not heavy enough to hurt me with something like that," he assured, laughing again heartily. "What was that, 'My Lord Emperor'? 'Your Magnificence'?"

But why would he call her that? Didn't he always call her Gianita, in a formal tone? He shouldn't give her a nickname without expecting her to have some kind of reaction.

"Sire, I don't think I'm very good at this," she croaked as they resumed dancing. "Perhaps we should just cancel the dance for like— a year after my skill's improved!"

"You're being too tense. Don't freeze your legs like an ice sculpture, just follow my steps."

Glancing down at their feet, she gulped. Following his footsteps would be easier, but she's afraid that she might stamp on him again, or take the wrong turn. It made her kept staring at their feet.

"You can't keep looking down like that when we're dancing."

"But what if I step on you again?"

Cal tilted her chin up, making their eyes met. "Gi, look at me. I'm right here. Do you think I'll let you falter and get ridiculed by the whole hall?"

Gigi's breath hitched, meeting his warm gaze with her darker shade of brown. "No."

"We start from the beginning. Left foot first." Resetting the music, he guided her through the same set of steps. "Left foot back, and two and three. Right foot forward, and two and three. Spin. There you go, good job!" he smiled brightly.

Gigi could feel her heart thumping rapidly from their closeness, the eye contact, and her anxiety about the dance. Perhaps putting on heels would help her stop bumping into his chest.

"Rotate right between the feet, and then spin, and spin, and spin. And then we exit." His face lit up as they finally finished the steps with a little mistake. "See? It's not so difficult if you could trust yourself. Let's do it again."

Beaming back at him, Gigi saw herself reflected in his copper irises.

"I spotted a couple of historical records among your fantasy-filled shelf this afternoon," he said as they began their second round. "Have you been switching sides?"

"No," she pouted. "I was looking at the profiles of the previous queen and empress consorts of Angletonia, to seek an insight on how to better serve the empire."

The corner of his mouth lifted, interested. "Oh, I see. Are you looking at someone in particular?"

"I do. Empress Orianne," she answered certainly. "As the first Empress of Angletonia, she held as much influence as her husband, Raedan II; being responsible for most of the diplomatic affairs of Angletonia. She was the brain while he was the brawn."

"My great-grandmother," Cal added. "It's a shame that I had never met her. She was magnificent indeed. My aunt Marlene, she resembles her the most, they said."

Gigi was inwardly amused, not sure if the compliment was made truly because Orianne was an imposing ruler, or the Leroys just took great pride in themselves.

"Well, that's Orianne. What would you like to do as an Empress?"

"I regret that I couldn't give you the answer to that now. Although I do have various ideas of what I'd like to do as a ruler; I had just arrived here. It'll take me some time to figure out what the empire requires of me."

"A wise answer." He spun her gently. "You may take all the time you need."

Gigi hummed her reply, her gaze lowered, settling on his succulent lips. Her mind recalled glimpses of them, smooth and velvety against her own.

"Dancing doesn't turn out so bad, does it?" he smiled smugly.

"The practice is always easier. It'll be harder to do in reality."

"You need to only look at me, Gi," he tilted her chin, unifying their gazes once more. "Look at me and nothing else."

.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.