Chapter 629

After applying the ointment to her, Henry washed his hands in silence, his expression unreadable. “Get up. We’re going again.”

Shirley raised an eyebrow and offered her hand. He took it and pulled her to her feet.

When the music resumed, something had subtly shifted. Henry steadied himself, pushing distracting thoughts aside.

There was no denying it. When this man focused, his presence became magnetic.

It was as though he were determined to prove something, exuding a quiet intensity, his energy almost electric.

As their bodies moved in sync, Shirley felt the firm pressure of his hand at her waist, steady and commanding. His eyes burned with a fire that seemed to reach through her skin, stirring something deeper within her.

Her pulse quickened. This time, their steps were flawless.

Anna watching from the side couldn’t help but marvel at the chemistry between them. The tension and unspoken attraction were so palpable that it made her want to find someone and dance too.

With a graceful spin, Shirley’s skirt flared like a flower blooming in the breeze. But then she faltered, as if catching on something, and lost her balance.

Henry saw the danger in an instant. Instinctively, he reached out, catching her mid-fall.

They spun again before crashing to the floor, Henry shielding her from the impact.

The air between them grew charged, not awkward but laced with something unspoken. Something was shifting, unfolding in silence.

Shirley looked down at him, propped up by her hands. A strange impulse flickered through her. She wanted to kiss him.

The thought filled her mind, vivid and insistent.

Her gaze lingered on his lips, like a predator preparing to strike.

Henry’s palm was burning hot. He looked up just as her eyes met his.

There was a faint amusement in her expression, her interest unmistakable.

His throat felt dry. He assumed it was from the dancing, the exertion. “Get up,” he said quietly.

“You looked pretty worried I’d fall,” Shirley teased.

“Just a reflex,” he replied, brushing it off as if it meant nothing.

But Shirley’s mischievous streak was in full swing. “You’re being so sweet. Aren’t you worried I might fall for you and try something?”

Henry tensed. Deep down, he had the sense Vivianus was testing him. He abruptly pushed her off. “Keep joking like that, I'll ruin you. I don’t do men.”

He sounded irritated, maybe even flustered, but Shirley remained calm.

Chapter 639

“Why the dramatic reaction?” she asked, amused.

Henry hesitated. On another day, he might’ve laughed it off.

“You didn’t really think I was going to try something, did you?” Shirley said again.

Henry prided himself on reading people, but the look on Vivianus‘ face was clear, wide-eyed innocence. Whatever meaning had been there earlier had completely vanished.

Shirley wasn’t about to break character. With Henry clearly on edge, the last thing she wanted was to drive him away. She had no time to chase after him.

“I was joking. Don’t take it seriously,” she said lightly.

Henry said nothing.

She added, almost casually, “Still, I’m sorry. No hard feelings.”

Somehow, that made it worse, and he felt foolish.

When Vivianus made a joke, he got upset. Then Vivianus apologized, and he was still upset.

Henry forced himself to calm down. “Fine,” he muttered. But his face betrayed him. He was still irritated.

And Vivianus, having offered her apology, didn’t coddle or explain further. She simply sent him on his way.

After Henry left, his expression grew darker, and his restlessness only deepened.

Vivianus had always been temperamental, a young aristocrat with a sharp tongue and a volatile temper from the day they met. Now, Henry found himself vaguely unsettled, wondering whether the coldness he had shown might be taken to heart.

The thought alone was enough to sour his mood further. He could hardly recognize himself anymore.

Day after day, he had adjusted to Vivianus‘ moods, given in to his whims, even indulged him without complaint. And now, he was actually concerned about whether Vivianus would speak to him again.

It was absurd, and yet, he couldn’t ignore the thought that perhaps, deep within him, there existed something akin to the loyalty of a devoted hound.

As soon as the notion crossed his mind, he rejected it with irritation.

‘Nonsense,‘ he thought to himself. ‘What reason would I ever have to be loyal to him?‘

The day itself was perfectly clear, the sky vast and cloudless above the capital of Summerbank. Under the careful management of Vivianus and Jasmine, the imperial administration had returned to order.

Warwick had quietly resigned in the wake of recent events, taking responsibility for the unrest, and a new chief had already assumed his duties, now focused on investigating and dismantling the network of informants planted by various city lords.

Yet none of this brought Henry any peace. The unease lingered well into the evening, right up to the grand banquet at the Summerbank palace.

The event was a spectacle, attended by the lords of several major cities. Martin was present, along with key military and government officials.

The capital’s most influential families were represented by wealthy merchants and their heirs, and the halls were filled with the soft rustle of silk gowns and the quiet laughter of young nobles and society ladies.

Amid the splendor, Shirley carried herself with unshakable composure. A glass of wine in hand, she moved through the crowd with practiced ease, responding to inquiries, accepting greetings, and deflecting attention with grace.

Anna, who had initially worried that Shirley might falter under pressure, now watched with quiet amazement.

It became increasingly clear to her that this Vivianus resembled the Shirley she had served for many years in a way that went beyond coincidence.

The resemblance settled heavily in her mind, yet it was a thought too strange to share with anyone aloud.

Jasmine approached quietly. “How is it going?”

Anna didn’t hesitate. “Smoothly. Everything’s going well.”

Jasmine smiled, unsurprised. Vivianus had always given the impression of being both striking and strong, and such occasions only amplified that impression. He knew how to carry a room.

Still, her gaze drifted toward Martin. There was something about his expression that made her uneasy. She hoped the evening would pass without trouble.

At that moment, a delicate-looking young man stepped into Shirley’s path. “Your Highness,” he said, his tone uncertain, “do you remember me?”

Shirley looked at him, her expression unreadable. Her voice remained even and unhurried. “I’m afraid I don’t recall.”

The boy’s eyes immediately reddened.

Jasmine, observing from nearby, once again felt that the two looked surprisingly well-matched.

She recognized the young man. He had been present at a matchmaking banquet hosted by Shermaine back in Baykeep. Shirley had attended as well. The boy had boldly approached her, seeming sincere and a little nervous.

But Shirley, as Jasmine recalled, hadn’t seemed interested. Perhaps she had thought him too young, or perhaps there had been other reasons. In the end, nothing had come of it.

Now, the boy had returned.

He introduced himself again, his voice lower this time, tinged with tension. “Your Highness… I’m Sean Baxter. I’ve joined the military now. Soon, I’ll be stationed nearby. I hope I can protect you.”

Shirley gave him a brief glance. His eyes were clear, open, and earnest, filled not with ambition or desire, but with a quiet protectiveness. There was no malice in him.

Still, it meant little to her. She had lost her memories and no longer believed herself to be Shirley, and even if she were, she doubted she would have had any affection for someone like him.

Not far away, Henry entered the hall just in time to witness the exchange. Though he couldn’t say why, the sight left him inexplicably annoyed.