The Extra is a Genius!?
Chapter 142: The Dance

Chapter 142: Chapter 142: The Dance

The music continued softly, flowing like water through the open garden. Beneath the canopy of enchanted lights and flowering trees, Veyron and Livia moved across the white quartz dance floor with practiced grace.

Noel stood a short distance away, one hand resting loosely in his pocket, the other holding a half-empty glass. His gaze followed the two figures in the center—not with admiration, but with something quieter. Detached.

’This isn’t for me.’

He watched as Livia allowed Veyron to guide her with ease, her expression soft, even peaceful. It was strange. She looked nothing like the cold, bitter girl he remembered when the engagement was announced. The tension in her shoulders was gone. The stiffness in her jaw had faded.

Then, movement beside him drew his eye.

Elena stood nearby, her hands clasped in front of her, eyes fixed on the couple with an expression that was nothing short of joyful. It wasn’t about the politics, or the ceremony. She simply looked happy to see her brother enjoying himself.

Noel glanced at her, then back to the dance floor.

He didn’t think about it much. Just acted.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked.

Elena blinked, turning toward him as if pulled from a dream.

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

Her lips parted slightly. "I... don’t really know how to dance."

Noel offered a faint smile.

"Don’t worry. I don’t either."

He paused.

’Though that’s not really true. The old Noel seemed to know... but I don’t. So it’s not a lie, right? Current Noel doesn’t. I should stop thinking about this.’

Elena hesitated, then looked back at the dance floor. She took a slow breath and nodded once.

"Alright... but don’t laugh if I step on you."

"I won’t," he said.

He held out his hand.

She took it.

Together, they walked toward the glowing center of the celebration, where the music waited and the world seemed, for once, a little lighter.

The moment they stepped onto the quartz platform, the music shifted into a slower rhythm—an elven waltz, gentle and flowing, guided by strings and the soft hum of wind instruments.

Noel turned toward Elena and raised his hand. She moved closer, placing one hand lightly on his shoulder, the other uncertain in his grip. Her expression was focused, maybe too much, like someone trying to remember the steps of a spell they’d only ever seen in theory.

They began to move.

It wasn’t smooth.

Elena missed the first beat, stepping too late and bumping his foot. She pulled back quickly, a flush rising to her cheeks.

"Sorry—"

"It’s fine," Noel said calmly. "Here."

He shifted slightly and leaned in, voice low near her ear.

"Put your right foot on mine."

She blinked. "What?"

"Just trust me. Step up. Let me lead."

Hesitantly, she obeyed. Her green-gloved hand tightened slightly around his as she placed her foot over his.

Noel adjusted his stance and began to move in time with the music, letting the rhythm guide him. With each turn, each gentle pivot, Elena’s weight followed.

"Just follow the beat," he murmured. "Don’t think."

He felt her body slowly relax. Her hand on his shoulder loosened. Her breathing steadied.

Around them, other dancers spun and shifted. Conversations murmured at the edge of the platform. Lights drifted overhead like glowing seeds caught in an eternal breeze. But for that moment, none of it mattered.

Elena looked up at him once.

There was a faint smile on her lips now.

They kept dancing—not perfectly, not flawlessly—but together.

And that was enough.

After a while, the song faded into a softer melody. Elena gently stepped down from his foot, keeping her hand in his a moment longer than necessary.

Then she tugged his sleeve.

"Come with me," she whispered.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Where?"

Elena led him off the dance floor, weaving through the garden with quiet purpose. Noel followed without questioning it. The sound of music grew fainter with every step, replaced by the soft crunch of gravel beneath their shoes and the rustle of leaves swaying high above.

They approached one of the side entrances to the main estate—a narrow archway wrapped in flowering vines, nearly hidden behind a curtain of ivy. Elena pushed it aside and slipped through, glancing back only once to make sure he followed.

Inside, the air shifted.

The hallway was made of living wood, smooth and curved, lit by faint strands of magic woven into the ceiling like veins of starlight. It was quiet. Sacred, almost.

"You sure you’re not taking me somewhere to get rid of me?" Noel asked, half teasing.

Elena chuckled. "Tempting, but no."

"Then where are we going?"

"You’ll see."

They ascended a narrow spiral staircase made from the same golden-hued wood, winding upward through the heart of the structure. A few elven attendants passed by on lower levels, but none looked up. This route was secluded—meant for someone who knew exactly where to go.

As they reached the top floor, the space opened into a narrow balcony tucked beneath an overhanging dome of woven branches and soft moss. The view was stunning.

From here, the entire garden stretched out below them—the white quartz dance floor, the drifting lights, the flickering movement of nobles in elegant attire. The music was still audible, but it came from far away, like a memory.

Elena leaned forward slightly, resting her hands on the carved railing.

"My father always prepares a magic display for events like this," she said softly. "But he never announces it. Says it should feel like a secret meant only for those who stay long enough, or care enough to notice."

"What kind of magic?"

"Light. Water. Earth. Living vines. He weaves them together and makes them dance with the music. It’s... beautiful."

Noel glanced at her.

"So this is the best place to watch it?"

She nodded.

"And you’re the only one who knows it exists?"

A small smile curved her lips.

"I suppose I just wanted to share it with someone this time."

They sat down on a long bench carved directly from the living wood, softened by a cushion of moss and embroidered silk. The view from above felt distant, like looking into a painting. Below, music continued to play, and nobles moved like figures in a slow, coordinated dream.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Elena shifted slightly, then leaned her head gently against Noel’s shoulder.

Her hair brushed his collar, the soft weight of her presence settling beside him with surprising warmth. He looked ahead, saying nothing.

The sky above Teralis was a dark blue canopy veined with light, like the world was stitched together by something older than time. A soft breeze moved through the balcony, carrying the scent of flowers and distant incense.

Noel glanced to the side. From this angle, he could just see her face—calm, content—and the slight pink coloring the tips of her pointed ears.

She was embarrassed. But she didn’t pull away.

He didn’t tease her this time. Not tonight.

’It’s fine,’ he thought. ’I can relax today. I think I’ve earned it. Tomorrow, I leave for the Holy Capital.’

And so, without words, they watched the world from above—two silhouettes sitting still in the quiet, while the lights below danced in their place.