My Step-Daughters Are The Villainesses

Several minutes passed while Esther danced with Ulrich, following the slow rhythm he had chosen for her with growing ease.

By the second minute, she had already forgotten the humiliation from before.

Or rather, it was not that she had truly forgotten. It still existed somewhere at the edge of her mind, along with the sneers, the whispers, and the cold space the other nobles had carved around her and her sisters. But none of it could reach her properly anymore. Not while she was there in the middle of the hall, moving under the chandeliers with Ulrich leading her, the music wrapping around them in soft turns.

She did not remember the last time she had enjoyed something this much.

At that moment, Esther did not see the nobles around them.

She did not hear the gossip curling between the other couples, or the whispers drifting from the edges of the floor, or the curious glances still following them.

She saw only Ulrich.

Or rather, she tried not to see too much of him at once.

Elana had told her often enough that during a proper dance, a lady should keep her head raised and meet her partner’s eyes without shrinking. But that was easy advice to repeat in a practice room and much harder to follow here, now, with Ulrich himself standing before her. So Esther kept her gaze lowered more often than not, resting somewhere around his chest, though every now and then she gathered just enough courage to glance up at him for a second before her shyness won again and pulled her eyes away.

Ulrich, for his part, was not looking at her very often.

His attention still seemed caught on other matters. His gaze would move past her shoulder, sweep across the room, narrow slightly as if listening to thoughts Esther could not hear. He was clearly preoccupied by something far beyond the dance itself.

But Esther did not mind.

He had already given her everything she needed.

He had come to her. He had taken her hand in front of everyone. He had danced with her when no one else would. And even while his mind remained half elsewhere, his body guided her with complete steadiness, every step exact, every turn taken for her comfort.

That alone was enough.

As they turned through another slow arc, Esther’s eyes drifted for a moment beyond his shoulder.

She caught sight of her sisters standing at the side of the floor now.

Hermione, especially, was looking at her with a small smile.

The sight warmed Esther’s chest at once.

Hermione had clearly seen the change in her. The tears were gone now. The fear that had knotted her expression before had loosened. Esther knew she must look different, lighter somehow, brighter. And seeing Hermione smile at that made her want to smile even more.

She turned her attention back just as Ulrich’s eyes lowered briefly toward her.

Caught, Esther’s face heated at once.

She dropped her gaze again in a rush, flustered by the simple fact that he had looked at her just then.

The dance continued for a few more minutes after that.

Eventually Esther felt the rhythm beginning to close. The waltz was drawing toward its end, couples slowing almost imperceptibly, circles tightening, movements shifting as the music prepared to settle. She recognized the shape of it from practice. Soon it would be over.

And not much surprising, she felt reluctant.

When the rhythm ended, she let herself be guided through them properly, then slowly drew back as Ulrich released her hand.

For one small second, the absence of his hold felt strange.

"Um... thank you very much, Lord Ulrich," Esther said, lifting her gaze.

Her cheeks were still pink. Her eyes still shone a little too brightly. But now there was no distress left in them.

Ulrich looked at her and said, "Do not force yourself to dance if it only makes you uncomfortable. Stay with your sisters."

"Y—Yes..." Esther nodded obediently.

It sounded like the end of it.

Ulrich turned slightly, clearly about to leave.

Then Esther’s hand shot out and caught his sleeve.

The movement was small, but firm enough to stop him.

Ulrich glanced back at her.

Esther looked up with an expression so open and pleading that it might have moved almost anyone. Her blue eyes were bright, hopeful, and just soft enough to make refusal look almost cruel.

"Would you dance with eldest sister and big sister too?" She asked.

Ulrich stared at her.

The request had plainly not been part of his plan.

Truthfully, when he had first crossed the floor to reach them, he had not known exactly what he intended to say. But seeing Esther in tears had made the answer simple enough. A dance had been the cleanest solution. It had been for Esther more than anyone else because Esther had been the one most visibly wounded.

Now, however, Esther had turned that rescue into something larger.

Ulrich lifted his gaze and looked toward Hermione and Airam.

Airam met his stare directly.

Hermione, on the other hand, looked away the moment his eyes touched hers.

"Please," Esther insisted, tugging once more at his sleeve. "Eldest sister and big sister worked very hard too..."

The last words came out softer, and there was enough fragile emotion in them that her eyes threatened to grow wet again if he refused too harshly.

Ulrich exhaled imperceptibly between his lips.

Then he turned and walked toward the two sisters.

At once Esther brightened again.

She gathered up a little of her gown and hurried toward them first, glowing with victory.

"So? Are you happy now?" Hermione asked her with a smile. "Did you finally get the dance you wanted, Esther?"

"It was wonderful, big sister!" Esther nodded, giggling.

And before Hermione could suspect anything worse, Esther seized her by the arm and tugged her forward.

"Now it is your turn!"

Hermione’s smile froze.

"W—Wait, Esther!"

But Esther was already pulling.

The protest came too late.

By the time Hermione truly realized what was happening, Ulrich had already stopped in front of her.

She looked up.

The second her eyes met his, every sensible thought she had vanished.

"I... I... just..." She started, then stopped.

She wanted to say she was fine. That there was no need. That Esther had already had her dance and that was enough. Several excuses rose together, but somehow none of them managed to pass her lips while he stood there looking at her in that quiet, unreadable way of his.

"I know you want to dance too, big sister," Esther said from behind her, and punctuated it by giving Hermione another encouraging push.

Hermione stumbled half a step forward.

"Um...w—well..."

Her eyes darted away, then back again, then away once more before she finally forced herself to look at him properly.

Was he serious?

That was the part her mind kept tripping over.

With Esther, she could understand it. Esther had cried. Esther had looked small and wounded and shattered by what had happened. But Hermione had not cried. She had only been angry. So had he truly come over meaning to dance with her as well? Was he actually willing?

He would not be standing there otherwise.

That simple fact hit her all at once.

Her fingers curled.

Then, slowly, awkwardly, she raised her right hand.

She had barely lifted it halfway before Ulrich reached out and took it.

His grip closed around her hand warmly, and strong enough to make Hermione jolt almost imperceptibly.

At once, heat rushed into her face.

Even the tips of her ears turned red.

She did not say another word after that.

She only let him lead her forward, obedient despite herself, onto the floor beneath the watching eyes of the court.

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