Eva’s POV The grand ballroom of the De Witt house was cold and echoey in the early morning light. Today was the morning before the wedding, and panic settled deep in my chest. Tonight, before the grand ball opened to the rest of the guests, Lucian and I were expected to perform the traditional opening waltz—a precise, regal ritual expected of the estate's heir and his prospective bride. There was only one problem: I had no idea how to dance. "No, no, Miss Eva. Up, not down," Lord Max, the strict elderly dance master hired for the morning, huffed as I slammed the heel of my shoe squarely onto his boot for the fourth time. He winced, stepping back with a sharp sigh. "You are... not a very natural dancer, if I may be frank." I flushed with embarrassment, pulling my hands back and smoothing my dress. "I am sorry, Lord Max. My feet simply will not obey—" "Mind if I take over and teach her?" a smooth, familiar voice called out from the arched doorway. I turned to see Le
Zuletzt aktualisiert : 2026-09-10 Mehr lesen