The Wolf Affair | Bts Ot7 fanfic

6. Little Butterfly

"To lose patience is to lose a battle,"-

"I hope His Majesty does not find Pervienne too overbearing," Eldon remarked with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling with a grandfatherly kindness as he addressed the taller man beside him. Namjoon, a figure of imposing stature and cold grace, barely acknowledged the comment. His lips, which rarely curled into anything resembling a smile, remained unmoved. Instead, he offered a curt nod, the barest inclination of his head.

"Not at all, Your Majesty," he responded, his voice a low, steady cadence that carried the weight of unspoken authority. His slender fingers, elegant yet strong, idly twirled the delicate glass by its stem, the amber liquid within catching the light like liquid gold. Eun, standing nearby, felt her breath hitch as she quickly averted her gaze, her nerves a tangle of unease.

There it was again—those amber eyes that lingered on her far too often, like a shadow that refused to fade. He observed her discreetly, almost as if it were an afterthought, yet with an intensity that made her skin prickle. It felt as though he were not just looking at her, but through her, as if his gaze pierced beyond the layers of silk, pearls, and decorum, and delved into the very essence of her being. It was unsettling, as though he were searching for something hidden deep within her soul.

A shiver crept down her spine, and she forced herself to look away, her thoughts turning anxiously to her father. Where was he? He had promised to be here, and though she had always believed her father to be the most intimidating man she knew, the presence of these powerful figures—these men who commanded wolves with a mere glance—rendered her father's stature almost insignificant.

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted as she noticed Eldon rising from his throne. The old king, with his silver hair gleaming in the soft light, placed the empty glass on a nearby tray, a servant bowing deeply as he took it away. Eldon's smile was warm and reassuring, his eyes crinkling at the corners, but it was the smile of a man who had seen too much and carried burdens too heavy for his years. He moved to the railing, looking down at the gathered guests with a gaze that spoke of both pride and melancholy.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the Azurian King, Namjoon, rise as well. Her heart leapt into her throat as their eyes met. She managed a small, forced smile and bowed slightly, hoping for the usual indifferent nod in return. But instead, he simply stared at her, as if she were something so trivial that she scarcely warranted acknowledgment. There was a coldness in his gaze that sent a chill through her, a reminder that in his world, she was little more than an ornament.

It was then that she caught the eye of the Grand Duke, Min. His sharp, black eyes glittered with something she could not quite place. Amusement, perhaps? Or was it disdain? He arched a brow as he took in her appearance, his gaze sweeping from her head to her toes, as if measuring her worth. It was not a look of approval, nor was it one of anger—it was the gaze of a man who found something mildly diverting but ultimately inconsequential.

Eun quickly looked away, her heart pounding as she fixed her gaze on Eldon's back. The king continued addressing his guests, his voice steady and warm, but her mind was a whirl of confusion and anxiety. She was barely listening, lost in a tangle of thoughts and fears, when suddenly, a single word broke through the fog.

"—Dance."

The orchestra, as if on cue, began to play a beautiful melody, the notes weaving together in a tapestry of sound that filled the grand hall. She smiled, the expression carefully composed, as she turned to look at the musicians. It was a waltz, a dance of elegance and grace, of romance and unspoken promises. To her, the waltz was the very embodiment of love—a dance that told stories without words, meant to be shared by those who understood its language.