The Hidden King's Stolen Wife

Soleia’s eyebrow twitched, but she smiled and crossed her arms. "So... are you saying you’d be willing to entertain every woman that stretches out her hand to you for a dance?"

Rafael leaned suavely against the wall and shot Soleia a smoldering glance that only made her snort. "My wife will get the first priority for my hand. But there are a lot of women, and I’m only a poor helpless man. What if all of them gang up together to mob me?"

"You’ll live." Soleia smiled blandly. "If something happens to you, I’ll simply have to make do with Mister Jonathan from the bakery. He has nice hands and he has been practicing how to dance."

"Perish the thought. Soleia, you and I will be dancing for the entire event." Rafael immediately stood upright and grabbed her hand, staring intently into her eyes. "We might as well glue our hands together because I refuse to be separated from you."

Soleia swallowed when she was faced with his undivided attention. She didn’t expect him to take her words so seriously!

"The glue is an overkill," Soleia said instead. "But I’m glad you’re open to dancing."

Then she remembered Ralph’s upbringing. "Ralph, do you know how to dance?" Soleia asked, worried she might have touched on a sore point. "It’s alright if you don’t― I’ll teach you."

Of course Rafael would have known how to dance. He had been forced to attend the same lessons that his brothers had since his father would not have Rafael shaming him on the rare occasion he was trotted out for events to entertain the guests. Besides, he could have also reminded Soleia that most of the populace would not know how to waltz to begin with, hence her lessons for him would be useless.

But why would he give up such a good opportunity to be close to her? Who cared if the rest of the peasants didn’t waltz― as long as he was there, he would make all of them waltz to make Soleia happy.

However, if Soleia was going to teach him how to dance, then Rafael would be willing to forget every bit of knowledge he had! He now had two left feet.

"I’ll have to trouble you then," Rafael said with a rueful grin. "My father didn’t see the need for the bastard son to learn dancing, so you might be dealing with a few more trodden toes than you expect."