DFBE 15

Chapter 15

Lucy looked up at Bartholomew and swallowed dryly.

It was her first time seeing his face this close.

And not with his brows furrowed or his expression twisted in irritation.

The feeling was strangely new to her.

Bartholomew was a man who carried an untouchable sort of aura.

Thinking about it now, Lucy found it amazing that she had acted so familiarly with him in the first place, and even ended up becoming his dance partner.

‘Wouldn’t he look like the most wonderful dance partner at the imperial ball?’

Considering Lucy’s original position as someone hated by everyone, he truly felt like a stroke of luck to her.

‘Besides, he lets me move and speak regardless of my stats.’

He was practically a blessing that had rolled right into her lap.

As Lucy continued staring at him with deep emotion in her eyes, one of Bartholomew’s brows slowly rose.

Then he crooked the corner of his lips and said,

“Are you about to say something strange again?”

From experience, whenever Lucy looked at him like that, she always said something bizarre.

To him, it was merely a teasing remark.

But his opponent was Lucy.

A complete face-obsessed fool thanks to the Aesthetician skill.

“Sir Bartholomew’s hair resembles the stillness of the night, and your eyes are like a beautiful sea.”

The moment Lucy spoke as though entranced—

Ding!

[The Aesthetician skill has increased by 2.]
[Cringe Power: 30]

The system window informed her that her condition had worsened even further.

Bartholomew stared at Lucy, speechless.

There was not the slightest hint that she was mocking him.

She was completely serious.

In the end, Bartholomew looked away from her as if admitting defeat.

“Let’s begin.”

Lucy nodded with a determined expression.

Counting the beat aloud, she moved carefully.

The moment she stepped toward Bartholomew—

‘Ah.’

Even though she was clearly counting the rhythm in her head, her body refused to cooperate, and she was about to step on his foot again.

That was when it happened.

Bartholomew tightened the arm wrapped around Lucy’s waist and pulled her closer.

Following his lead, Lucy spun halfway around.

Her eyes widened.

She quickly looked up at Bartholomew.

“I didn’t step on you!”

Joy flushed her cheeks pink.

Watching Lucy beam innocently with delight, the corners of Bartholomew’s lips lifted faintly.

It was an unconscious reaction even to himself.

Lucy didn’t miss it.

Her brows arched in surprise.

“Sir Bartholomew. So you can smile.”

Though it was only the faintest smile, it felt entirely new to Lucy, who had only ever seen his lips twist sarcastically before.

Bartholomew stiffened.

As if nothing had happened, his mouth immediately flattened again.

“I wasn’t smiling.”

At his denial, Lucy tilted her head.

“You definitely were. You look much nicer when you smile.”

“Have you never considered that you smile too much, Your Highness?”

Bartholomew asked as he recalled Lucy constantly smiling brightly at him.

“Well, I believe people can’t spit on a smiling face.”

Lucy answered casually, though she felt slightly embarrassed.

It had been a habit even before she transmigrated.

A smile was the simplest way to treat others kindly.

And smiling didn’t cost any money.

“Does it look strange?”

Bartholomew didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he thought about why Lucy smiled so often.

Lucy was infamous as the abandoned princess.

She likely received neither the emperor’s attention nor warm treatment from anyone else.

Yet despite that, she never lost her smile.

To him, it suddenly felt like a survival strategy she had chosen so people wouldn’t hate her.

The thought made him feel strangely unsettled.

Until now, he had assumed she was simply carefree.

But perhaps, unlike her outward appearance, Lucy’s heart was just as noisy and troubled as anyone else’s.

“It doesn’t look strange.”

Bartholomew said quietly as he adjusted his posture.

He prepared to continue from where Lucy had stopped.

Lucy also fixed her posture to match his movements.

The distance between them grew much closer.

Suddenly, Bartholomew became acutely aware of Lucy.

Come to think of it, he had never stood this close to someone before.

He had always been alone, without close friends, and since he had never debuted in society, he had little experience interacting with others.

He had never danced socially either.

Lucy was his very first partner.

‘Are all women…’

Bartholomew’s brow twitched faintly.

‘…this soft?’

To him, Lucy’s body felt excessively delicate.

If he used even a little too much strength, he feared he might hurt her.

Only then did the tension leave the arm around her waist.

Instead, his back stiffened upright.

His shoulders grew rigid, and nervousness slowly crept over him.

‘This is bad.’

Bartholomew felt cornered.

As if Lucy’s nervousness had infected him, he too began feeling awkward.

He even broke into a cold sweat at the terrifying thought that he might accidentally step on her foot.

If he, a man, stepped on Lucy’s soft-looking feet, she might never be able to practice dancing again.

Lucy tilted her head in confusion when Bartholomew suddenly began treating her as carefully as if she were made of glass.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s noth— cough!”

Bartholomew shook his head, only to suddenly break into a coughing fit.

He quickly stepped away from Lucy and turned his head aside.

He tried to suppress the coughs rising in his throat, but it wasn’t easy.

“Sir Bartholomew?”

Concern filled Lucy’s eyes as she looked at him.

‘Was dancing too much for him?’

Bartholomew had said he wasn’t terminally ill.

But even if he wasn’t dying, judging by his condition, he must have suffered from a chronic illness for a very long time.

‘Still, I thought dancing would be okay…’

Lucy suddenly felt guilty, wondering if she had selfishly pushed him too hard without considering his health.

“Are you alright? Should I get you some water?”

Bartholomew seemed too distracted by coughing to answer.

Afraid he might cough up blood again, Lucy carefully patted his back.

After coughing several more times, Bartholomew finally looked back at her.

His complexion had turned pale.

Then—

Ding!

[Due to the Aesthetician skill, you become enraged at anything that obstructs beauty.]

What kind of message is that?

But Lucy immediately understood what the status window meant.

A suffocating feeling welled up inside her chest, along with an overwhelming desire to eliminate the illness tormenting Bartholomew.

“I’m fine.”

Even after Bartholomew spoke, Lucy’s hardened expression refused to soften.

Seeing the ever-smiling Lucy look so serious made Bartholomew feel strange.

For some reason, he disliked it.

It felt as though she were wearing a mask that didn’t suit her.

He found himself wanting to see her smile again instead.

“I truly am. Let’s continue.”

Bartholomew said, suppressing another cough threatening to escape.

Only then did Lucy’s expression relax slightly.

“If it’s hard for you, you don’t have to force yourself. I don’t like seeing you in pain.”

Bartholomew blinked slowly.

‘She doesn’t like seeing me hurt.’

It was the first time anyone had worried this much about his illness.

Little by little, Lucy was taking all of his firsts.

Feeling an inexplicable sense of danger, Bartholomew grabbed Lucy’s arm.

The two continued dancing in a quieter, heavier atmosphere.

But another cough threatened to rise in Bartholomew’s throat, causing him to miss the timing to lead her.

He belatedly tried to pull her toward him, but his own steps tangled, and he lost his balance.

Quickly, Bartholomew twisted his body so Lucy would fall on top of him as he collapsed backward.

In an instant, Lucy ended up practically sprawled across him.

More than the dull pain in his back and the back of his head, Bartholomew was flustered by the sensation of Lucy nestled against him.

“Are you okay?”

Lucy braced herself against the floor with both arms and lifted her upper body.

Her hair spilled down, tickling Bartholomew’s cheek.

Bartholomew stared up at Lucy with wide eyes as she looked down at him with concern.

His lips parted as though he were about to say something, but instead he swallowed dryly.

Then he avoided her gaze and muttered,

“Let’s stop for today.”

At his words, Lucy nodded and moved away from him.

Bartholomew stood, using his poor health as an excuse to leave first.

His ears had turned bright red.

But Lucy failed to notice.