• Selfish Prince • || KookMin

5. Will you dance with me?

Namjoon talks to some nobles who question their prices and other requirements to have shows. Nothing out of the ordinary every time they have an appearance in places like these. Everyone competes to put on a more expensive show than which competitor. Personally, he lets them fight it out. Why not have a little fun at the expense of the rich people?

He is too, he just prefers to keep traveling and doing this rather than buying land, a house and settling down. He considers that this kind of life is not for him. Too boring. Too stationary and stagnant. Not to mention the dangers he might experience. The latter, an excuse to continue his preferred way of circulating life. Between chatting and keeping an eye out for Taehyung nearby, he notices someone watching him. With his hands behind his back and barely paying attention to whoever is talking to him, he notices a woman standing discreetly by one of the pillars in the room.

She is very short, with raven-black hair tied up in a high bun, adorned with a huge gold headdress. Knowing she is uncovered, she averts her eyes and walks in the direction of the dessert table. Namjoon bows his head Who is it? It's strange that she has no company.

All the women here have at least one friend with them in case they have no family or husband. Namjoon decides not to pay attention to her.

. . .

Taehyung licks his lips while giving a sigh of pleasure. He loves the aftermath meals. It is the best reward for a job well done. Taehyung is startled by the face so close to his all of a sudden. He can barely resist spitting the food into his mouth.

"Hi. You're one of the buchaechum dancers right?" Taehyung nods and swallows all he had. "You did charmingly well" she praises with a broad smile. Taehyung blinks repeatedly. "I'm Jung-Beaumont Ho-Sook. Nice to meet you."

"I-equally, my lady."

Taehyung bows and after briefly analyzing her outfit, Taehyung takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. Having to change the treatment depending on the culture is a mess, but Hosook looks Korean because of her slanted eyes. Her English attire: a big yellow dress with a baroque cut, but soft skirt and revealing neckline; red rose print fabric on the inside of the skirt; long gloves; long earrings and ostentatious necklace. Conclusion: say hello both ways. The ginger-haired woman gives an excited squeal and when Taehyung straightens up, she finds it hard not to notice the pronounced fangs.

"Will you dance with me?" asks Hosook clasping her hands together in her lap. "Sadly, at these parties, no one wants to dance with me," he says.

"Why would that be? My lady!" rebukes Taehyung, who raises an eyebrow. Something totally incoherent goes through his mind: why does she smell like flowers? There is a very strong floral smell. As if a garden is laid out in front of him. Hosook pouts and red-haired curls fall down her bare shoulder.

"Because they can't keep up with me. Also that they get tired too fast and I just want to dance all night."

"If you give me fifteen minutes to eat some more, I'm yours for the rest of the night, my lady." he proposes teasingly. Hosook shrugs and gives an excited squeak, nodding.

"Waiter! A drink here!" he calls, waving the fan.

Taehyung reckons that, like Jimin, Hosook is one of those gentle nobles who simply don't pay much attention to class: they want to have a good time and whoever gives it to them is indifferent. What he did not understand, is the double meaning in the whole situation and how Hosook does not fail to see it with excitement. Radiant and irrepressible excitement in his red eyes and long fanged smile.

. . .

"Can I help you? My lady?"

Namjoon smiles kindly and obligingly at the woman who, again, has caught watching him. It's the sixth time? In the night. She is a small woman. She must not be more than one sixty. She has a very beautiful face. Like a perfect porcelain doll with symmetrical features and smooth skin. Her black hair and gold headdress only make her stand out more in her black dress with gold embroidery.

She is a very beautiful woman whom, for no apparent reason, everyone seems to ignore.

"Nothing." she answers in a low voice and with a pronounced whistle. Like someone playing a flute.

"I have the impression that you're lying to me, my lady" Namjoon says with his hand on his chin. For a tiny moment, he makes sure Taehyung is still with Hosook, the other lady of the house. With him there, he can quietly continue with any other business. "Since you keeps looking at me and becomes somewhere between mysterious and annoying, my lady" The woman furrows her eyebrows and clenches her hands. Her cloth skirt stiff as her expression and posture. "If there is anything I can help you with, you can ask without thinking and I will do what I can to help you." states Namjoon.

She says nothing, averting her gaze. She delays in sorting out her thoughts.

"I just loved your presentation. Your voice vibrates in an impressive way. Full of confidence." she explains.

"Oh, thank you very much, my lady..."

"Min-Beaumont Yoon-Ji" Namjoon bows and Yoonji presses her lips together. "I was the one who hired you."

"Too bad we didn't see each other at the time. It would have been quite a treat to see each other alone." replies Namjoon, tone flirtatious and somewhat adventurous. Yoonji cocks her head.

"You think so?"

"Of course."

"Hum. The only one here with se thought."

"Why would it be? My lady."

"Everyone prefers my cousin" Namjoon glances at Hosook, who dances with Taehyung in the center of the hall. A huge smile on her lips and mood impossible to ruin. "She always attracts stares. Bright as a sun and smiling like a child."

"There is charm in your sobriety, my lady. The real problem, is that people didn't have time to admire it; the kinsman blinded them. It's the price of just seeing the sun" Yoonji exhales, watching him out of the corner of her eye. He has an innate ability to praise. "I'd ask you to dance, but I'm very bad at it. I hope you understand."

"I could guide you."

"At the risk of tearing your dress?"

"This shit is denser than a rock. A stomp won't break it" Namjoon doesn't elude a chuckle. So she's one of those nobles: those who don't mind swearing because they would look "less refined". "If what you say is true, you'll want to dance with me and won't mind if I lead."

"If you want to give me the honor of leading me: I will gladly take it, my lady."

Yoonji takes the end of her skirt and Namjoon's hand. The difference in size is great, but Namjoon doesn't mind; he is surprised by the strength in Yoonji's grip, also that the noise is louder being in contact with her. He doesn't limit the smile and she bites her lower lip; for a brief moment, Namjoon glimpses pronounced fangs. A little weird.

Yoonji exhales deeply and accentuates her grip on Namjoon, who is so let and submissive to her direction. Red eyes fixed on the taller, older looking figure than her.