Weiss excused herself with practiced grace.
"Well, it would look very poor if I hid behind the both of you, all night." she said lightly, though her voice lacked any real amusement. "I'll be back when I can."
Her expression remained serene and relaxed. Anyone looking would see a Schnee heir perfectly in her element.
Jaune, however, felt something else entirely.
Reluctance pressed faintly at the edges of her presence, woven together with irritation and a thin thread of resignation. The quiet annoyance of someone stepping into a role they had never been allowed to refuse.
He almost smiled.
Almost.
Weiss turned and was quickly absorbed into the flow of the room, intercepted by greetings and introductions before she had taken more than a dozen steps. She didn't look back.
Then he noticed Blake was gone, which left Jaune standing alone for the briefest moment.
He scanned the hall and spotted her near the refreshments, leaning casually at the edge of the snack bar as if she had always belonged there. A glass rested in her hand and her posture radiated deliberate nonchalance.
Jaune weighed his options.
He could follow Blake like a lost dog and hover like an awkward shadow or he could do what this place expected of him, and mingle. He paused as a slightly awkward thought crept into his mind. Wasn't there some stereotype of men being dragged along through collar but hot goth women?
Jaune wasn't too keen on being a part of that stereotype. Fortunately, before he could settle on either decision, he felt a prickling at the edge of his sense.
Attention.
Not the vague curiosity that he had been receiving since entering the hall, but something sharper, focused and purposeful.
Jaune turned.
A woman was approaching him.
She moved with measured confidence, steps smooth and unhurried with her hips swaying slightly with each stride. She was older than him, likely in her late thirties yet beautiful, undeniably so. Her figure was full and elegant, dress cut to complement rather than conceal. Rich fabric traced her curves without effort, and her posture made it clear she was aware of exactly how she looked.
Her skin was a warm, sun kissed brown and her eyes were dark and intent. Full red lips curved into a knowing smile as she drew closer.
Behind her followed three other women, all similarly striking. Each carried themselves with quiet assurance, their expressions ranging from amused to openly appraising. They moved together like a unit.
Jaune's first impression was immediate and vivid.
Predators.
Not dangerous ones, but social ones.
Vacuon, he realized.
The darker skin tones, the relaxed confidence and the way they seemed to treat this ball less like a performance and more like a game. Generations under harsh sun and open skies had shaped cultures very different from Atlas.
The lead woman stopped at a polite distance, though her presence felt much closer.
"Good evening," she said, voice smooth and warm. "I hope we're not interrupting."
Jaune cleared his throat lightly. "No. Not at all."
She smiled wider. "Wonderful. I'm Asera." She inclined her head just enough to be respectful without diminishing herself. "Delegate from Vacuo City."
She gestured gracefully. "These are my colleagues. Lirren, Naima, and Sola."
Each of them acknowledged him in turn. Glances and smile. Their gazes felt oddly weighty.
Jaune straightened slightly. "Jaune Arc. Nice to meet you all."
Asera's eyes lit up at the name.
"Jaune," she repeated thoughtfully. "What an interesting name? You don't sound Atlesian."
"I'm not," Jaune said. "I'm from Vale."
"Vale," Naima murmured behind Asera. "That explains the expression."
Jaune blinked. "The expression?"
Asera waved it off with a soft laugh. "Nothing unkind. You simply look like someone who's not certain on what you should be doing."
That earned a faint, embarrassed smile from Jaune. "Yeah. That sounds about right."
Asera studied him openly now, her gaze curious rather than invasive. "Not used to events like these?"
"I'm afraid not. This can be said to be my... first rodeo."
"Well you're young," she said. "Yet you're here without a handler hovering over your shoulder. That alone makes you interesting."
"He's also awakened," Sola added. "I can tell from his strong shoulders."
Jaune paused before nodding. "Yeah... I am."
"And you're not hiding it," Asera said approvingly. "Very refreshing. Some people tend to do so, even at events like these."
"Really? I didn't know that."
The conversation flowed easily after that.
They spoke about Vale and Vacuo, about how different Atlas felt compared to cities built under open sky. Asera listened intently, occasionally interjecting with stories of trade routes and Vacuoan politics spoken with blunt honesty.
Jaune found himself relaxing despite the attention.
Then the tone shifted.
Subtly at first.
Asera stepped a little closer, closing a distance that no one had consciously acknowledged until it was gone. Her voice lowered just slightly, the sound of it threading through the music and chatter.
"You know, Jaune, you stand out here," she said softly. "Not simply because of how... well the suit fits you, but because you look like you're not trying to impress anyone."
Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, clearly unsure how to respond. "Hmm, perhaps that's because I wouldn't know how?"
That drew quiet laughter from the group.
Asera's smile turned more playful. "Honesty too. Truly, a dangerous combination."
She gestured lightly as she spoke, fingers brushing briefly against his bicep as if by accident. The contact was fleeting and innocent in isolation, yet undeniably intentional.
Jaune stiffened for half a second, then realized his heart was beating faster.
He wasn't uncomfortable.
Just caught off guard.
He responded politely, answering questions, returning smiles. His confusion showed, but he didn't pull away. Part of him was flattered, a warmth settling somewhere unfamiliar.
Jaune wasn't too used to people flirting with him. Yang flirted with him once in a while, but her version was meant more for teasing, to provoke a reaction, laugh or a blush. She hadn't done that in a long time however.
But... this. This was different. Calmer and more controlled.
The music shifted.
What had once been a polite background presence rose into something deliberate and commanding, the ensemble adjusting their tempo with practiced ease. Strings swelled, percussion softened, and a rhythm emerged that carried structure rather than spontaneity. Around the hall, conversations tapered off as attention shifted toward the open floor.
The dancing had begun.
Couples moved into place with an ease that felt rehearsed. Partners aligned themselves without needing instruction, hands finding familiar positions as if following invisible markings etched into the marble. It was elegant and synchronized, every step part of a larger pattern. No one bumped into another and no one hesitated for long. It was not dancing born from impulse or joy, but from expectation.
Jaune watched for a moment, brows knitting slightly.
"So it really is like this," he muttered under his breath.
It did not feel like a political ball to him. Not in the way he had imagined, at least. This felt like celebration and a performance of harmony. A show of unity wrapped in silk and gold.
Perhaps that was the point. The Centurions were the future of Dream realm subjugation, after all. The celebrate the occasion was announce to the world that they weren't scared.
Those who chose not to dance drifted toward the second floor balconies, leaning against ornate railings as they watched from above. Conversations resumed there in hushed tones, eyes flicking down toward the floor while glasses were lifted and lowered in careful rhythm. Power observed, even when it did not participate.
Before Asera or any of her companions could say another word, Jaune felt fingers close firmly around his wrist.
He already knew who they belonged to.
"Sorry," Weiss said crisply as she pulled him back, her grip unwavering. "I need him for something."
Asera blinked once, then smiled knowingly. "Of course, Miss Schnee. We would not dream of keeping him."
Her tone carried amusement rather than offense. She inclined her head toward Jaune. "We will finish our conversation another time, Jaune Arc."
Jaune barely managed a polite nod before Weiss guided him away, her heels clicking sharply against the marble as she navigated through the shifting crowd.
Once they were clear, Weiss released his wrist and turned to face him.
Her expression was composed, yet her emotions were not.
Annoyance simmered just beneath the surface, tangled with irritation and something sharper that Jaune chose not to name.
He scratched his cheek. "You... alright?"
Weiss gave him an unimpressed look.
"You looked like you were enjoying yourself," she noted.
Jaune hesitated. "Uh... yeah. Sort of..." He glanced back toward where the Vacuoan delegates stood, already redirecting their attention toward a different cluster of guests. "They seemed a little intense, however."
That earned him the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth.
"Yes, they tend to be." Weiss said.
She exhaled softly, shoulders settling as if she had shaken off an invisible weight. "In any case, you should be a little wary of people like them. You're not very used to this type of scene so let me just be frank. She wasn't actually interested in you."
Jaune's brows raised. "She wasn't? But she was flirting... I think."
"Yes, but not because she interested in you. She was interested in me."
"She's... a lesbian?"
Weiss looked offended. "No, you idiot! Information is a powerful thing. While this celebration/party/ball, whatever you want to call it is meant for the reveal of the Centurions, the greatest gain here, would be to receive information or intel regarding the Schnee family. She was likely using a honey pot-like strategy to fish for information."
Jaune grimaced. "Well... I suppose that explains her emotions, versus her actions."
Weiss sighed. "I... probably should have warned you and Blake better. I guess I just wasn't thinking. In any case, these types of conversations attract the wrong kind of attention. Especially tonight."
Jaune nodded slowly. "Yeah... that explains why you rescued me."
"This was not a rescue," Weiss replied quickly. Then she paused, eyes drifting toward the dance floor where couples glided across the marble in carefully timed steps. "I needed a partner."
Jaune followed her gaze.
"I have to dance," she continued. "For show. It would look strange if I didn't."
"That makes sense," Jaune said. "So… who are you dancing with?"
Weiss turned back to him.
"You," she said simply.
Jaune blinked. "Oh."
She watched his face closely, waiting for hesitation or refusal. Beneath her calm exterior, nervousness pulsed softly, like a quiet drumbeat. Expectation. The weight of being seen.
Jaune smiled. "I'd be glad to."
The relief that washed through her was immediate and unmistakable.
Weiss let out a breath she had not realized she was holding. Her shoulders eased and her posture relaxed just a fraction. "Good."
Then her brow furrowed.
"You do know how to dance, right?" she said carefully.
Jaune straightened, offense sparking instantly. "Excuse me?"
Weiss raised an eyebrow.
"I have seven sisters," Jaune said. "Do you have any idea how many different events, birthdays and random family gatherings that translates to?"
Her lips parted slightly.
"Dancing," Jaune continued, "was not optional."
For a heartbeat, Weiss stared at him.
Then she laughed. A small sound, genuine and unguarded.
"Alright," she said. "I stand corrected."
They stepped onto the dance floor together.
The music guided them naturally into place. Weiss rested one hand lightly on his shoulder, the other settling into his palm. Jaune adjusted his stance instinctively, posture aligning with hers as if they had done this countless times before.
Around them, other couples moved in synchrony, forming and dissolving patterns across the floor. The choreography was intricate but forgiving. Designed to make everyone look competent, even if they were not.
Jaune led.
He did so with quiet confidence, movements smooth and unforced. His steps were precise without being rigid, guiding Weiss effortlessly through turns and transitions. He adjusted subtly to her pace, matching her rhythm without overpowering it.
Weiss noticed.
She followed his lead easily, trusting his movements as they flowed through the dance. Her earlier tension melted away, replaced by focus and calm. For a moment, the noise of the hall faded. There was only the music and the pattern beneath their feet.
"You're... really good," she murmured.
Jaune smiled faintly. "I had good teachers."
She met his gaze briefly, something warm flickering there before she looked away again.
They spun together, steps aligning perfectly, Weiss's dress catching the light as it flared softly with each turn. Guests watched from the edges, eyes following the pair as they moved. Some nodded in approval. Others whispered.
Jaune did not care.
For the first time since entering the hall, Weiss looked genuinely at ease.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Jaune inclined his head. "Anytime."
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AN: Advanced chapters are available on patreon