A Dance
"Your Highness, may I cut in?"
Lexzandra and Samuel stop, turning to face the Duke. His eyes are fixed on Lexzandra, who feels a wave of confusion wash over her.
Samuel shrinks back, intimidated by the Duke's imposing presence. Stammering, he steps aside, muttering something under his breath as he scurries away.
The Duke offers his hand to Lexzandra, who hesitantly places her palm in his, feeling the warmth and firmness of his grip.
They begin to move to the music, their steps perfectly synchronized despite her initial reluctance.
She can feel the eyes of the room on them, a palpable sense of curiosity and speculation filling the air. It's a rare sight to see the Duke dancing, especially with her, given their tumultuous history.
She knows people are bound to get the wrong idea, whispers and murmurs already spreading like wildfire among the guests.