I didn't know how to respond, so I simply thanked him for holding me in such high regard. Words swirled in my mind, and thoughts became tangled. To be acknowledged by someone of his caliber… it's something I never expected.

Arisa and her uncle kept talking about how things had been lately, catching up after several weeks apart. Meanwhile, I just sat here, half-listening, lost in my own thoughts.

What is this motivation I'm feeling? It's as if my body is begging to go train right this instant. I never imagined receiving the drive to become stronger from someone I didn't even know. And yet, this motivation doesn't come from wanting to prove something to him—it comes from the desire to surpass him.

A person recognized by everyone has acknowledged me. I won't waste his words. I'll show them just how strong I can become. My name will rise above his.

I clench my fist to strengthen my resolve, suppressing the urge to dash outside and train. Instead, I try to focus on the opening dance—a traditional performance in this region performed by eight people just before the birthday girl enters.

I lift my gaze a bit and see the Baron and his wife seated at the table in front of us. To our right is Marga's table, with Mains and a group of young nobles.

The Duke's daughter looks beautiful, wearing a soft pink dress typical of these kinds of events. Her hair is carefully groomed and styled. It reveals just enough without being called provocative. A beauty different from Arisa's, yet just as striking.

I start to notice the seating arrangement more clearly and realize I'm sitting at the third main table—the first two are occupied by the Solar family.

I understand now why we were given this table: the son of a close friend, the daughter of one of the two Counts, and more importantly, a Marquis sitting with us. An unusual combination, but a fitting one since we're all somehow connected.

When the opening dance ends, spotlights shine on the main staircase. Sol walks gracefully through a pair of curtains and descends the stairs delicately as everyone applauds.

She takes a small black device and begins her speech. It's strange how that gadget works as both a microphone and speaker at once—it must be embedded with countless runes and enchantments.

Her speech is well-paced—neither too long to bore us nor too short to feel abrupt. That eloquence is typical of Sol: well-chosen words and controlled breathing. Quite entertaining for a welcome and gratitude speech.

Baron Camux approaches his daughter, takes her hand, and the music starts. The father-daughter dance is very much like what we'd call a waltz. The clapping matches the rhythm of the music, and the air is filled with a loving atmosphere.

Arisa wears a long green dress that nearly touches the floor; her hair is partially loose, tied gently at the middle. She exudes maturity in every movement, blending graceful poise with her soft features.

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The dance ends, Baron Camux gives another speech, and the party officially begins with a toast. Many couples head to the center to dance. The music picks up slightly in tempo but keeps the same romantic tone.

Through my domain, I can feel Arisa looking at me with deep eyes, as if reminding me of the promise I made. She's not the only one—Marga has been glancing at me now and then. I feel a bit shy in this situation.

And then there's the Marquis, looking at me with playful amusement. He shifts his gaze to his niece, then to Marga, and back again—repeating the pattern with a mischievous smile forming. He's waiting to see how I'll react.

"Lady Arisa, may I have this dance?" I rise from my seat and walk gently toward her, one hand behind my back and the other extended. It's the most formal way to ask for a dance, according to my mother.

"It would be my pleasure." She takes my hand with hers. We walk to the center of the floor, and almost everyone has turned their eyes toward us. I feel a bit overwhelmed by all the attention, but my feet don't stop. I follow the music gently, leading Arisa in rhythm.

"You said you weren't good at this." She pouts, throwing me a scolding look.

"I'm not. I'm just… average." Her eyes say she doesn't believe me, and with a soft sigh, she returns to her usual smile. "You didn't tell me about the pressure of dancing while everyone stares at us." People keep dancing, but many still sneak glances at us—especially Marga, whose glare feels like a dagger in my thigh.

"They're shocked because I accepted your invitation despite our social class difference." I remember hearing something similar from my grandmother. "And they also can't believe you dared ask me to dance in front of my uncle." Oops… those details completely slipped my mind—rookie mistake.

"Don't pay them any mind. I'm happy to dance with you." Her words calm me a little. I try to follow her advice and not let the stares get to me. It's time to enjoy this dance.

But I can't handle that look. Even if the curious stares of others don't bother me, it's different when it's Marga. Her gaze, and even Imra's presence, are furious yet hesitant. It confuses me too.

I turn off my domain for a moment, and things feel more peaceful. When the dance ends, we go back to our seats. Almost immediately, a well-dressed gentleman and his daughter arrive to greet and talk with the Duke and Arisa, while I just sit and watch another group dance.

Someone taps my shoulder, and as I turn, I see Mains. We greet each other with a hug and talk about how things have been going.

His face then turns troubled, like he just bit into something bitter. "You see, Maki... I came here to ask if..." He falls silent, organizing his thoughts. He glances at Marga, then back at me.

I understand immediately. I place a hand on his shoulder to show empathy. "Don't worry. I'll expect a good meal sometime soon." He smiles at my words, and I walk toward where Marga is seated.

She's not a bad girl, and asking me to dance would be impossible given the difference in our noble status. That would invite countless comments from those constantly watching her.

With the same hand gesture and a slightly firmer voice, I approach her seat. "Young Lady Marga, would you honor me with a dance?" She feigns surprise, grabs my hand quickly, and practically drags me to the center.

I see all the nobles at her table staring at us in shock and suspicion. Not just them—we're moving closer to the center and drawing everyone's attention.

"You took too long to ask me." Her words sound harsh, but her triumphant smile says otherwise. "Let me show you how to dance." She immediately speeds up the dance steps, and I have to give it my all to keep up. Thanks to my reflexes and a bit of past experience, I manage not to make a fool of myself.

The dance ends. I escort Marga back to her table. She already told me she'll come to mine shortly. She didn't ask—she just let me know. I agreed without hesitation. After all, we have empty seats, and I couldn't stop her even if I tried.

Why do I get the feeling this is just the beginning of a chaotic day? The idea only grows stronger in my head with every passing second...

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