“Lev, those who fall in love don't get angry.”The ruthless kingdom of Sandre, where winter reigns for half the year.Lebedi Sorokin (Lev) graduated at the top of his class from Sandre’s most prestigious ballet school and went on to join the Royal Ballet. Blessed with an impeccable physique and innate genius, Lev was the perfect dancer, as if born with the feathers of a swan. However, he harboured a deep hatred for the nobility, the sworn enemies of his family, and steadfastly refused their patronage. He spent his days powerless, performing minor roles or dancing in the corps de ballet.But one day, Lev was entrusted with the lead role, replacing an injured dancer in a regular performance attended by the royal family and the founding nobles of the kingdom, and led the performance to an astonishingly successful conclusion. Having witnessed his performance, ducal heir (Lord) Denebyev offered Lev his patronage. Unable to turn down the offer from such a powerful figure, Lev reluctantly accepted the young lord. Despite Lev’s rash behaviour, his insults, and his readiness to demean, the young lord was strangely deferential to him...* * *“I never knew Your Grace had… such a refined hobby.”In response to my sarcasm, the young lord added, “When you’ve spent time on the battlefield, you grow accustomed to such things.” An inexplicable rage boiled up inside me, and I mocked him with the cruellest words I could find. “Oh dear, what a pity. I don’t engage in such acts with men. No matter how beautiful Your Grace may be, I doubt it could make the thing in my lower half stand.”After a bout of silence, he let out a faint sigh. Then, gazing at my scowling visage in the mirror, he murmured calmly, “My dancer… seems to find pleasure in wounding others with his words.”
