Mia’s Ballroom Dance Club

“Hmm...”

Three days after the Horsemanship Tournament, Mia was relaxing in her room. The crippling muscle soreness that had plagued her had finally subsided, and she was back to being her usual fully-functional self. Unfortunately, something else was also stubbornly insistent on being its usual self...

“Ugh, it doesn’t look like anything’s changed,” she said with a disappointed groan.

The Princess Chronicles she’d borrowed from Bel remained as thin as ever, suggesting that her lifespan remained correspondingly short.

“I hate this. Every time I see this book, it ruins my mood and I don’t feel like doing anything anymore.”

She was about to return the book to Bel’s desk when she noticed something else there.

“My... This is...”

She’d happened upon the results of Bel’s remedial exam!

“Right, that reminds me. She had to stay behind during the holidays and go to summer school. I wonder how she did.”

Curiosity prompted her to flip through the pages. Curiosity also didn’t seem to notice that Mia was no cat, for it made an attempt on her life. Clutching her chest, she gasped for breath as she physically reeled from the sight. It was atrocious.

“How in the moons does that girl sleep at night with grades like these?”

But sleep she did. And soundly too. Faced with her granddaughter’s unflappable steel nerves, Mia felt awed. And more than a little terrified. Just then, her eyes stopped on a particular line.

“Her grade for dancing...is E?”

Dancing was, of course, the only thing Mia was any good at, so her granddaughter’s abysmal assessment hit her extra hard.

“E?! That’s horrible! How did she get an E? That’s— Oh, wait...”

Though slightly delayed, the reason eventually dawned on her. Bel had never received formal education in a manner befitting an imperial princess. Mia, meanwhile, had been taught how to dance, along with the etiquette and protocol and all the other particularities of high society. Their upbringings were not comparable.

“I...might have been a little hard on her...”

Bel had said that Ludwig had been giving her lessons, but he probably didn’t get around to cultivating her proficiency in the essential accomplishments such as dancing.

“...Then again, it’s not like she’s faring any better in her academics either. What gives?”

Though mysteries remained, Mia decided not to pursue the question any further.

“She could learn etiquette from Anne and Elise, but I guess she was out of luck when it came to dancing...”

It occurred to her that she’d promised at some point to teach the girl how to dance.

“Hm, I think it might be time for me to do my dear granddaughter a favor,” she said, feeling a sudden surge of grand-maternal love. “After all, I’m the one who enrolled her in Saint-Noel. If she keeps failing so horribly at things, Miss Rafina might start giving me dirty looks...”

Even with the sudden surge, her grand-maternal love occupied maybe twenty percent of her motivation. The rest was, as usual, self-love. In any case, with her mind made up, Mia promptly put her plan into action. After dinner, just when Bel had returned from her bath and was about to leap into bed, Mia said, “Bel, may I ask you something?”

“Eh? Uh, yes. What is it, grand—Miss Mia?”

She sat Bel down on the bed and looked her in the eye.

“Tell me, Bel. Do you dislike dancing?” she asked as a precaution.

A certain degree of cultural sophistication was expected of Tearmoon princesses, and while she’d prefer to equip Bel with as many of these skills as was possible, she certainly wouldn’t force her to do something she hated.

I didn’t like vegetables, but the head chef made an effort to cook them in a way that I’d find tasty. I should do something similar for Bel. If she doesn’t like to dance, I’ll have to figure out a way to make it more enjoyable for her...

This consideration, however, turned out to be unnecessary.

“Hate dancing? No, not really... Why?” said Bel with a puzzled look.

“Ah, good,” said a pleased Mia. “In that case, I’m going to teach you to dance.”

“Huh? Teach me to...dance?” Bel’s eyes widened. “You mean...that dance? The legendary one...”

Mia nodded. She wasn’t quite sure what Bel meant by “the legendary one,” but she nodded anyway.

“Yes, just like I promised you. Brace yourself, because I’m going to drill it into your brain. As a princess of the imperial family, you need to know more than a thing or two about dancing. We can’t have you embarrassing yourself.”

Bel immediately straightened like a soldier standing at attention.

“Understood, Miss Mia. I’ll try my best to learn your dance so I can live up to your name!”

“That’s the spirit! I’ll make a dancer out of you yet,” said Mia, chuckling with cross-armed self-importance.

Bel’s dance lessons began the very next day.

“All right,” said Mia. “First, we need to lay out some short-term goals to work toward.”

“Oh, I have a mini dance assessment in ten days. How about that?”

After some quick deliberation, they agreed to use the practical exam as their first goal.

That gives me ten days to whip her into shape. I’m going to make sure she gets an A on her next assessment. Oho ho, I can hardly wait to see the look on her classmates’ faces when they’re mesmerized by her dancing.

“By the way, Miss Mia, about these clothes...”

Bel tugged at the hem of her half-sleeved shirt, below which she wore shorts that stopped at her knees. The sporty attire certainly suited the activity she was about to partake in, but...

“Aren’t you supposed to wear beautiful dresses when dancing? With those long flowing bottoms so you can strike nice poses?”

She regarded her shorts with protruding lips.

“The beautiful dresses come later, Bel. Those are what you want for now. You want to start in clothes that are easy to move in. All you need now is a partner. I’d like to ask one of the boys for help, but hm...”

Out of consideration for her granddaughter, Mia was hesitant to do so.

A beginner learning to dance isn’t exactly a flattering sight. Bel might have pretty thick skin, but I’m sure even she wouldn’t want a boy watching her while she’s practicing. That’d be so embarrassing. It’d be nice if I could get someone good at dancing, Sion for example, to help her...but I guess we’ll have to wait until she’s at least half-decent. I don’t want to humiliate her after all.

Just for the record, had she been offered the choice, Bel would have taken it without a second thought. Sure, she might have to endure some embarrassment, but she’d be dancing with Sion. It was, therefore, probably for the best that this unnecessary consideration of Mia’s went unmentioned.

“First things first. Fundamentals. When it comes to dancing, fundamentals are everything. I have to start by teaching you all the basics, and I know exactly how I’m going to begin!”

There was a certain dance that had been passed down through the imperial lineage for generations called “the Dance of Moonlight.” Designed for dancers to practice their technique, it was a well-crafted exercise piece encompassing all the fundamental techniques of ballroom dancing and included physically strenuous passages to strengthen the muscles. Mia tended to tackle most problems, for both schoolwork and dancing, through overwhelming numerical superiority (the former, of answers memorized, and the latter, of sheer mind-numbing repetition). Having practiced this choreography since she was young, it went without saying that by now, she knew every step and twirl by heart.

“Bel, I’m going to have you learn a secret dance taught only to members of Tearmoon’s imperial family. It’s called the Dance of Moonlight. I’ll demonstrate first, so just watch.”

Mia promptly began the dance.

“We start with the feet. Un, deux, trois... Un, deux, trois...”

She moved about smoothly, her steps matching the rhythm she intoned.

“Here, we turn. Bring your right foot around while keeping your left foot planted as much as possible...” she said, demonstrating the motion a few times. “Next, the hands. They should feel lithe. Elegant. Move them gently, as if they’re fluttering in the breeze.”

A series of graceful twirls ensued.

“You have to get a feel for how far you’re moving while you spin. I heard distance is an important concept in swordsmanship as well. They need to have a sense of where they are relative to their opponent and surroundings. It’s the same in dancing. You need to know your distances. How far each step takes you. How much space you have. That comes with lots of practice. As long as you keep it up, it’ll start to get easier.”

She could feel Bel’s intense gaze on her as she danced. Pleased by the girl’s attention, she carefully demonstrated every movement, slowing down during fast parts and repeating complicated passages for clarity. Upon concluding, she casually shook her hair out and said, “And that’s the gist of it. It’s not that hard, so you’ll probably learn it pretty quickly. Let’s go over the first few steps again—”

“No, it’s okay.”

Mia was interrupted by an eager-eyed Bel.

“I remember all of it, Miss Mia. I think I can do it.”

“...Really?”

“Yes, because Grandmother Mia’s blood flows in my veins!”

“I...suppose it does. Well, go on. Give it a try then,” said Mia, expecting to be impressed. The girl was her kin, after all, and she seemed confident. Maybe a few pointers was all she needed.

Bel then proceeded to defy all her expectations. In the worst way possible. After finishing, she looked excitedly at Mia.

“I did it! What do you think, Grandmother Mia?”

“Hm... Hmmm...” Mia’s brows twitched as they resisted the urge to furrow. “I see, I see... That was...”

She regarded her granddaughter’s proudly inflated chest and felt...impressed in spite of herself.

Where does this girl get the audacity to tell me “I did it” with a performance like that?

It hardly needs to be said, but one does not simply reproduce all the motions to a dance after seeing it once. The quality of Bel’s performance was exactly what you’d expect of someone on their very first attempt. And yet somehow, there she stood, exceedingly confident and immensely proud of herself for what, in her mind, was doubtlessly a fine example of the Dance of Moonlight. The sheer nerve alone was admirable.

She can maybe trick a couple people into thinking she did pretty well with that smug look of hers, but she can’t fool my eyes.

With a pretentious clearing of her throat, Mia said, “It’s not bad for your first try. You’re on the right track.”

For the sake of her granddaughter’s emotional well-being, she opened with a diplomatic rendition of her opinion.

“In terms of what you have to work on,” she continued, “number one will be...accuracy. That is, making sure you’re performing each motion correctly. Dance requires a strong foundation of the fundamentals, so take your time learning them. Don’t get sloppy, or you’ll regret it later.”

“Understood!”

Mia smiled with satisfaction at Bel’s vigorous nod. They still had time. There was no need to rush. This was a race she could take slowly and steadily, building up Bel’s competence little by little.

The next thing she knew, three days had passed with pretty much nothing to show for it.

“This is so strange... How come you still can’t do it properly? It’s just a gentle flick...you just go like this with your hand and swish swish... See? Nice and elegant.”

“Hnnngh, it’s hard, Miss Mia...”

Bel hung her head in discouragement. Mia’s head, meanwhile, was tilted so far back in puzzlement it looked like it was about to snap off. Alas, Mia was woefully unaware of the fact that her extensive education and practice since childhood had colored her view on dancing, imparting a stereotypically “genius” flair to her teaching style. In other words, the kind of teaching where nobody but a similar genius could make heads or tails of what her abstract descriptions were supposed to mean.

“Hmm... I sense the need for a different approach...” Mia murmured in thought.

Bel’s enthusiasm was visibly waning. At this rate, she might end up hating the thought of dancing altogether, and that would be terrible. Just as Mia began to contemplate the issue...

“Excuse me, milady.”

“My, Anne. What’s the matter?”

“You have a visitor. It’s Princess Rania.”

“Rania? I wonder what she wants.” Mia glanced at Bel’s languid form. “All right, let’s call it a day then. Bel, go take a bath and clean yourself up. I need to speak with Rania for a bit.”

With that, she ended the dance lesson early and returned to her room.

“Good day, Princess Mia. I’m sorry for the sudden visit,” said Rania, standing up from her seat to greet Mia as she entered the room. With beautiful black hair and lustrous tanned skin, her appearance was striking. Specifically, it struck Mia’s stomach, which gurgled in response. Not because Mia thought her friend looked edible, of course. That would be inappropriate. And slightly terrifying. Rather, it was because Rania always brought tasty treats with her when she visited, and Mia’s tummy had been conditioned to growl in her presence. It was pure reflex by now. Unbothered by this awkward physiological response, Rania continued in her usual tone.

“Also, I apologize for the plainness of my gift. I only brought regular cookies today...”

Mia followed her gaze toward the nearby table, upon which lay the plate of said treats. Her face brightened.

“My, it’s those cookies! My favorite kind!”

They were the highly preservable variety—the same as the one she’d once received from Anne. She certainly appreciated their practical value, but their plain flavor was something she loved as well. Simple and sweet. It was a taste she could never get enough of. The rest of the items on the table had presumably been prepared by Anne, who supplemented the cookies with black tea, along with a selection of Mia’s own sweets.

Moons, we have ourselves a bit of a feast here!

As Mia took a seat opposite Rania, Anne promptly poured out two cups of tea. It was lukewarm—perfect for Mia, who’d worked up a sweat and was craving a beverage more refreshing than hot.

Aaah, Anne does it again. She’s so thoughtful.

Her sip of tea had relaxed her, and she said in a calm tone, “So, Rania, what brings you here today?”

“Actually, I wanted to ask you for advice about something.”

“Advice? My, what seems to be the matter?” Mia asked as she promptly bit into her first cookie.

It broke with a satisfying crunch. As she chewed, the treat gradually dissolved in her mouth, leaving behind a pleasant sweetness.

“Aaaah... This simple sweetness, along with the satisfying flavor of wheat... Mmm, it’s so good. I love these.”

There was nothing groundbreaking about its texture, nor was it finger-lickingly delicious. Its charm likely derived from a sense of nostalgia. It was a comforting flavor, like a taste of home, and it was the perfect salve for her ailing psyche, frayed by her constant anxiety over the Chronicles’ thickness.

Oooh, that really hits the spot. Right there in the center of my very soul. It’s so plain, but so good... I needed this...

As Mia engaged in holistic cookie therapy, Rania hesitantly spoke.

“So, um, about the advice... It’s actually more like...I want to ask you a favor.”

“Oh? A favor? Go ahead. As long as it’s within my power, I’d be happy to help.”

After a bout of lip chewing, Rania finally mustered the will to make her request.

“I, um...heard that recently, you’ve been giving dance lessons.”

“My... Where did you hear that?”

For Bel’s sake, she’d been keeping the lessons a close secret.

“From Miss Bel. She sounded very excited and was telling everyone she met.”

Damn it, that girl...

Mia held her head in frustration. Apparently, Bel wasn’t the least bit worried about people finding out that she was learning how to dance.

“Well, good for her, I guess. It’s true that I’ve been booking one of the special-purpose classrooms at school to give Bel dance lessons. We’re going on three days now, I think.”

Rania brightened at this statement.

“I-In that case, could you, um...teach me too?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

Mia frowned. She didn’t know how much experience Rania had with dancing. Maybe she was struggling with some particular move. But even so, she could just go ask one of the teachers in Saint-Noel. It seemed odd to be coming to Mia for help.

“Are you aware of the Thanksharvest Festival in Perujin?” asked Rania.

“Of course. It’s a grand celebration in which the people of Perujin gather in the capital to give thanks for the year’s harvest. I’ve heard that there’s supposed to be a feast that involves lots of amazing food...”

Mia was caught up on all the gourmet events of neighboring nations. She’d actually been thinking of attending one of Perujin’s Thanksharvest Festivals if the opportunity ever presented itself.

All that fresh Perujin produce... Just thinking about the kinds of food they’d make with it makes me hungry...

“Then I’m sure you know what we Perujin princesses do during the festival.”

“I certainly do. You perform the Thanksharvest Dance as an offering to God, right?”

Perujin princesses, as leaders of their people, personally take charge of the harvest effort and work in concert with farmers. At the same time, they also play the role of priestess in which they offer thanks to God for bestowing them with food. After the dressing-down she received from Ludwig in the previous timeline for forgetting Rania’s name, Mia had made sure to do her homework. Recognizing Perujin Agricultural Country’s importance to Tearmoon as a source of food imports, she’d committed all the basic details about its princesses to memory.

“So, what’s the matter? Is it something about the dance?”

“Yes... To be honest, I— Ah, this is so embarrassing. You see, I’m generally pretty bad at dancing, so I’ve never been able to do it properly...”

“Ah, I see what you’re getting at...”

Rania’s request finally made sense. The academy’s teachers could teach her how to dance, but that was ballroom dancing. Ritual dancing was beyond their expertise. That was why she’d come to Mia for help, hoping her reputation as a good dancer meant she could teach Rania.

“Oh, but how did you manage this past summer?”

As far as Mia knew, Rania had gone home to Perujin as usual during the summer, meaning she should have carried out all her traditional duties as a priestess.

“I was mostly helping my sister, Arshia. I’m like her assistant. Next summer though, I might have to do everything myself...”

“Right, of course...because I asked Arshia to come to my academy...”

Rania was worried that Arshia’s teaching duties at Saint Mia Academy might leave her too busy to return home during the Thanksharvest Festival. Without Arshia, the whole dance would have to be centered around her, which was an understandably daunting amount of responsibility.

“But it’s not like she’ll be chained to her desk. I won’t mind if she takes some time off to attend important events.”

Rania gave her head a small but firm shake.

“If Arshia wanted to come back to enjoy the festival, that’s fine. But I don’t want her to be forced to take time off work because of me.”

There was a sense of hardened resolve within her soft voice. Mia acknowledged it with a nod.

“Well, that settles that then. I’ll just have to make a dancer out of you.”

As far as Mia was concerned, she would also rather have Arshia concentrate on her wheat research. If that meant she had to add Rania to her list of pupils, then so be it. More lessons were a small price to pay for a potentially faster breakthrough.

“We should start soon,” said Mia. “In fact, you can join me and Bel tomorrow. We’ll practice together.”

Conveniently, Rania’s presence might also provide Bel with some much-needed encouragement. The girl had been rather down recently.

“Oh, but I should warn you. I can be a pretty demanding teacher.”

“No problem! Just try me!”

With that, Mia’s dance class officially expanded its roster.

Now, backtracking a little to the previous day...

“It sure is peaceful around here, isn’t it?” Keithwood said to himself as he idly roamed the school’s halls and passageways.

He wasn’t killing time; he was on patrol. As Sion’s attendant-cum-bodyguard, he kept an eye out for any signs of danger.

“Not exactly surprising, given Saint-Noel’s impeccable security. I mean, I probably don’t even need to be doing this in the first place. Never see anything suspicious anyway.”

He continued to wander, his demeanor growing laxer with every autumn-scented breeze. Then, as he rounded a bend, he spotted something that made him stop in his tracks. One of his eyes twitched. A strained smile spread across his lips.

“Well then, I spoke too soon...”

Popping into view at the end of the corridor was Mia, currently engaged in the textbook definition of suspicious behavior. From her poorly-selected hiding spot behind a pillar, she poked her head out and glanced around with the nervous energy of a small rodent. Failing to notice Keithwood, she then scurried off toward the special-purpose classrooms.

“What in the name of the sun is that girl up to now...” he muttered as he promptly shifted into stalking mode.

In general, Keithwood was a model gentleman, displaying all the grace and decorum befitting an attendant to the Crown Prince of Sunkland. He also had a favorable opinion of Mia; she was a valuable contact for Sion to maintain, and Keithwood personally enjoyed her presence as well. Had he not already pledged his loyalty to Sion, he might have taken a knee before her by now. Therefore, in normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be caught dead doing something as disrespectful as following a lady, never mind a princess he admired.

But follow her he did, because he just couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d regret it otherwise. Something deep in the pit of his stomach stirred. An instinctual warning, perhaps, that she was about to make a royal mess of things... Edible things...

“How is it that someone of such abundant talent as her can fail so miserably at basic cooking? Another of life’s endless mysteries, I suppose...”

Finding a strange comfort in the presence of his old friends, the weary sigh and the exasperated grumble, he ducked into the shadows and slipped between them in stealthy pursuit, pausing as his quarry entered one of the classrooms.

“A classroom, huh. That’s...a good thing, I think. At least it’s not the cafeteria. Or worse, the kitchen... Still, I’d better keep my guard up. This is the Great Sage of the Empire I’m up against.”

Given her penchant for thinking outside the box, this could still be some sort of attempt at cooking, and he just lacked the virtuosic imagination to see how. Just as he prepared to dive into that mental rabbit hole, he forced himself to reconsider.

“Okay, no. Get a hold of yourself, man. This is Princess Mia. She might have a lapse of judgment from time to time, but she’s not going to cook in a classroom. I’m just paranoid. Everything is fine. I won’t wake up tomorrow and find half the school burned down...”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a few pensive seconds. Then he nodded to himself.

“Okay. Everything is fine, and I’m just paranoid,” he said as he hunkered down. “Nothing wrong with being paranoid though, right? I’ll just wait here a while and see how things go. Just to be safe.”

Down the rabbit hole he went anyway.

The next day, things took a sharp turn for the worse.

“N-No way... I-Is that Princess Rania?”

Gazing out from his hiding spot, he felt a chill run down his spine as he identified the figure walking alongside his target of observation. Rania Tafrif Perujin, Princess of Perujin Agricultural Country, traded an eager smile with Mia as they slipped into the classroom. Rania, princess of Perujin Agricultural Country, known for their bountiful produce, was engaged in some sort of secret cooperative project with Mia. Keithwood shuddered at the thought.

“What could Princess Mia and Princess Rania be doing together?” he mumbled in an attempt to convince himself of his own ignorance. After all, if he didn’t know, he could just walk off and pretend nothing had happened.

He failed. Saying the question out loud made the answer even more apparent.

“What else?! Something cooking-related, obviously!”

He reprimanded himself for his moment of weakness and stared at the classroom. They could only be doing one thing in there. Were this a normal tea party, they’d have no need for secrecy. All that sneakiness suggested something was up. He could smell it in the air, and it smelled like Mia’s usual blend of innocently-destructive shenanigans.

“...At worst, a whole lot of good Perujin crops are going to end up victims of her cooking.”

He gritted his teeth as gut-wrenching scenes of tragedy flashed through his mind. Fresh vegetables lay in sloppily-cut tatters, cruelly robbed of their appetizing futures. Mountains of fruits floated in stew like bloated carcasses. Two slices of bread, their soft flesh distended, struggled to hold the enormous girth of a whole apple as their life and identity as a sandwich drained away. As his visions reached their dreadful climax, these culinary abominations forced themselves upon his master. Then, yet insatiated, they turned their attention toward Keithwood himself...

“Gah! Scorching suns! I have to do something about this...”

Keithwood was a competent cook, but even he didn’t have a perfect grasp of Perujin produce and could hardly be expected to turn their more exotic products into palatable dishes. What of the Great Sage then?

“Princess Mia is an erudite individual. It’s certainly possible for her to possess some obscure knowledge about cooking.”

Had she the culinary skills to back up that knowledge, all would be well. The problem was that she almost certainly did not.

“I can almost hear her talking about making some sort of fancy mushroom dish... That would be a total nightmare for everyone involved...”

He gulped, then pressed his hand to his stomach, which had begun to ache in anticipation.

“I think I’d better deal with this before it’s too late...” He grimaced. “Ugh, I told myself I never want to go through an experience like that again, but...”

He stood up and sighed.

“Bah, I guess I have no choice.”

With extreme reluctance, he plodded toward the classroom.

In the classroom, Rania was demonstrating her ritual dance for the first time. Dressed in loose trousers and a short-sleeved blouse, she held a castanet in each hand and clacked them as she danced.

Clack! Click clack!

The instruments produced a steady beat, which Rania danced to, moving in time with the percussive rhythm. Well, sort of, if you have a very generous definition of “in time.”

Hm, it’s not really lining up, thought Mia as she studied Rania’s performance. I think those instruments are throwing her off. It feels like she’s focusing so much on them that her actual dancing is getting sloppy. Also, she’s not stopping in places where she should, so there’s no punch to her movements. It’s probably because she’s always too busy thinking about the next motion to hold a pose properly...

Mia continued to analyze the dance, her pensive expression persisting even after the performance had ended.

“And, well...that’s it. Um, what do you think?” asked a nervous Rania.

“Hm...”

She crossed her arms and, in the pretentious tone of a contest judge...

“You were...pretty much off the whole time.”

...Delivered a ruthlessly honest remark!

“You started out fine, but gradually, your clacking and your dancing fell out of sync. It could be due to fatigue, but hm...”

It feels more like nerves to me.

In the absence of her sister, the pressure of performing alone must have been getting to her. It would explain her timing issues and hurried motions, considering performance nerves naturally caused people to rush.

It’s hard because she has to keep her own rhythm.

The presence of instrumental accompaniment would go a long way toward alleviating this problem, but Rania had no such luxury. As a result, her tempo steadily grew faster and faster until her body couldn’t keep up anymore.

“I’m sorry to say this, but I think I’ll have to ask you to join Bel and practice your fundamentals.”

Mental pressure aside, her technique wasn’t anything to write home about. Mia therefore decided that the shortest path to success was to start by honing the basics. With solid technique would come confidence, which was crucial for further improvement.

Which was actually true! In a rare turn of events and against all odds, Mia the Great Educator made a judgment call that was incredibly and undeniably correct! Thus was the nature of Mia, for whom dance and mushrooms were always serious business.

“Now then, let’s get star— Oh?”

There was a knock on the door.

“My, I wonder who that is.”

Mia glanced around Anne’s shoulder as she opened the door. Standing in the hall was the familiar sight of Sion’s attendant.

“Hm, Keithwood? What’s he here for?”

He looked a tad pale, which only puzzled her further.

“Please excuse my sudden intrusion, Princess Mia,” Keithwood said, walking in. “It has come to my attention that you have recently been engaging in some form of activity with great enthusiasm, and I was wondering if there might be anything I could help wi— Hm?”

He paused as he scanned the room. With a perplexed expression, he turned toward Bel and Rania and asked, “Uh... What exactly is going on here?”

“Well, I did not expect you to show up, Keithwood. We were trying to keep this a secret, but so much for that now.” Mia let out a deep breath and shook her head. “If you really must know, I’m giving Bel and Rania dancing lessons.”

“...Dancing lessons?”

“Yes. Bel, especially. She really needs them, and I really didn’t want people finding out before she’s ready...”

She glanced at Bel who, bless her poor soul, was staring down at the ground with a noticeable blush. Being bad at dancing must, as Mia expected, be a rather embarrassing matter to her.

Bel pattered over to Mia and whispered, “G-Grandmother Mia, look! I-It’s...the Libra King’s loyal retainer! The brilliant and steadfast swordsman Keithwood!”

Despite the stammering, there was a clear sense of wonder in her voice.

“Wow...! Wow! This is my first time seeing him so close. He’s standing right there. I could touch him!”

She excitedly swung her arms, the source of her cheek redness suddenly looking less like the embarrassment of having her poor dancing exposed than the adrenaline-fueled flush of a fangirl who’d just met her idol. Miabel had become Maniabel!

“Ah, I see,” said Mia. “So that’s it.”

Keithwood, however, was unaware of this. He looked at Bel and shifted uncomfortably.

“I apologize. It was thoughtless of me to barge in. Please, disregard my presence. I am but milord’s lowly attendant. Consider yourself to have been looked upon by a dog, if it please you,” he said in a solemn tone.

“Hmm...”

Mia considered him, her lips puckering in thought.

I figured it’d be fastest to teach Rania the Dance of Moonlight too, but that would leave Bel with nothing to do. My ultimate goal for Bel is to have her get good at ballroom dancing, and to that end, she’ll need a partner sooner or later... This might actually be a good opportunity. Maybe she’ll be a little keener to learn if she’s paired up with Keithwood. She seems rather fond of him after all...

She turned toward him.

“Keithwood, would you happen to be well-versed in dancing?”

“Huh? Well, I know a thing or two, I suppose,” he answered with a shrug.

A thing or two, huh... Based on my experience, his thing or two usually is more like ten or twenty! He looks exactly like the kind of person who’d be charming girls left right and center on the dance floor.

The thought was oddly vexing, and she scowled at him before continuing.

“In that case, as punishment for your prying, I demand your cooperation in this matter. You embarrassed a young maiden by learning of her inability to dance. The least you can do to make it up is help me teach her—”

A warning from Mia’s grandmotherly instincts gave her pause.

Wait a minute... This might be a risky idea. What if Bel ends up turning heads and all the boys start flocking to her?

Private dance lessons with a seasoned lady-killer like Keithwood sounded like a very bad idea. He’d be a terrible influence on her. She was just about to retract her request when Bel piped up, effectively yanking them out of her mouth and stamping them with an official seal.

“R-Really? Are you serious, Miss Mia? I get to dance with Keithwood? The Keithwood?! Omigosh! That’s... Wow!”

The young girl, face redder than ever, threw her hands up in the air. Mia shook her head like a disapproving parent.

“I swear, some days, I’m not sure if we’re really related...” she said before turning to Keithwood. “Well, there you have it. If it’s not entirely too much to ask, I’d like you to be Bel’s dance partner and help her practice. She has a dance test coming up in six days, and I want her to get a good grade.”

“I see. If that’s the case,” he answered with a gentle smile, “then consider yourself partnered, young lady. I shall do everything in my power to help you improve.”

“Th-Thank you! I’ll do my best too!” Bel said with an eager bow.

Aaah, learning to dance with Grandmother Mia is so much fun.

Bel lay cradled in the softness of her bed, the last hours of the day draining away with her will to keep her eyes open. This liminal moment between yester and morrow, when she could feel the gentle caress of slumber but had yet to be pulled into its embrace, was her favorite time of day. Her face buried in her pillow, she allowed the day’s memories to fill her mind. One by one, she reviewed them, as if reaffirming that yes, today, like the others, had been full of happiness as well.

Ehe he, I would never have imagined I’d get to dance with Keithwood. That Keithwood! Famous for his unwavering loyalty! It really is just like a dream.

To Bel, Keithwood was like a character from a fairy tale, and dancing with him had made her feel like she was one too. Her body had felt light, as if she were about to float away at any moment. She’d tried to stay still, but every fiber of her body had yearned to move, to spin, to dance. All in all, the experience had been downright enchanting. She let out a blissful breath.

“This is...such a happy life...”

She meant it. There was no doubt in her mind that her days were filled with happiness. Saint-Noel felt like a magical wonderland that had popped right out of her dearest dreams. There was delicious food everywhere, and she could always eat as much as she wanted, sweets included! Yes, homework was a little hard...but school could be a lot of fun. She’d even made a friend! It was a dream come true.

Though she had no idea when this dream would end, right now, while it still persisted, she was undoubtedly happy as could be.

But that’s the thing. She’d always been happy. No matter the circumstances, she’d never been anything less...because her life was a gift, and it had come at a cost. So many people had sacrificed so much to bestow it on her. That life, then, had to be happy. Nothing else was acceptable. For the sake of all those who’d loved her—all those kindhearted people who put their lives on the line for her—she would not and could not let her smile wane. She continued to smile. Because she was happy. Always happy.

“Right now...I should be really happy, but...”

She was. Very much so. But she had no one to tell, and that made her feel a little lonely. She wanted to tell her dear Mother Elise about all the wonderful things that had happened to her today. She could imagine the delight on Mother Elise’s face as she recounted her experience of meeting her grandmother in the flesh. But it was a vain wish, because the people dear to Bel were no longer here. The person she wanted to tell most could never listen to her again.

“Oh, what about...a letter...”

Suddenly, Bel had a thought. There was still something that linked her to Mother Elise. Or rather, someone—the yet-young Elise. It was only a weak bond, lacking the strength of the memories they once shared, but...

“Yes, I should write a letter...to Mother—no, to Elise.”

She placed her hopes on that fragile thread, stretching from future to past, believing that so long as it kept them connected, her words would reach the source of that tender warmth of yore. A letter, then. In it, she would describe how magnificent her grandmother had been today. But that wouldn’t be enough. She would keep writing. So many wonderful things had happened today, and she would list them all one by one. That was how she’d tell her.

“I’m happy right now, Mother Elise.”

She didn’t know when this dream would end, but every second of it, including this very moment, had been filled with happiness.

“Oh, I know. Since I’m writing a letter, I might as well...”

Ten days later, Mia held a piece of paper in one trembling hand. Written on it was the result of Bel’s dance assessment.

“...Th-This can’t be right. I spent so much time teaching her. I even got Keithwood to help. So how come her grade is...a C?”

To give some context, C was a passing grade, but just barely so. Not great, but, by definition, not failure either.

“I am not okay with this!” she exclaimed.

After voicing a loud and prolonged sequence of grievances about the futility of her efforts, Mia glanced at Bel, who didn’t seem the slightest bit upset. The sight of her granddaughter’s carefree smile caused her to deflate, and she sighed.

“Well, at least it doesn’t seem like you’re getting bullied for being bad at dancing. In that case, I guess it’s fine even if your grades aren’t that good...”

Just as Mia was coming to terms with how to be an understanding parent, Bel abruptly asked, “Oh, by the way, Miss Mia, when does the glowing start?”

“Hm? The what?”

“The glowing. When is my body going to start glowing?”

“...Huh?”

Mia gaped at the girl, utterly confused by her question.

“Mother Elise told me that when you danced, you literally glowed. That’s why I figured if I learned how to dance, I’d start glowing too,” said Bel, emphasizing her point with an enthusiastic but still-clumsy twirl.

Mia’s head promptly began to ache.

“Elise... What in the moons were you telling this girl?” she muttered.

Nevertheless, she saw no reason to force the disappointing truth on Bel and shatter her hopes. After some quick thinking, she struck her palm with her fist in a gesture of sudden inspiration.

“Ah, about that... Do you remember the name of the dance I taught you?”

“Huh? Um, yes. It’s called the Dance of Moonli— Oh!”

“That’s right. Do you understand now?” said Mia, nodding with the slow, conspiratorial air of someone imparting a secret.

“So basically, once I can perform the Dance of Moonlight perfectly, it’ll happen to me too...”

Bel grinned in expectation. Mia grinned too, though her emotion was less innocent.

Oho ho, that should make her more eager to get better at dancing. A brilliant idea, if I do say so myself, she thought, profoundly pleased with herself.

A few days later...

“Wh-What in the moons is this?!”

While reading through the Chronicles, Mia found the following passage:

Princess Mia was a peerless dancer. Expertly versed in all forms of dance, it is rumored she even perfected that legendary dance taught only to those of imperial blood. When mastered, this dance would cause the performer to emit a glow like moonlight...

But we have come to the end of this current tale, so her subsequent swoon and the ensuing commotion is a story you’ll have to imagine for yourselves.