The Hidden Extra: The Lazy Prince Refuses to Ascend The Throne-Chapter 116: Dance session (1)

Dance was an integral part of the culture in the Great Velmora Empire. Whether it was princes or the children of noble families—from Barons to Dukes—they were all expected to learn how to dance.

Even if it was just the basic steps, mastering them was still a requirement.

Nolan had already mastered those steps—long before he became Nolan Lorian.

After all, in his previous life, the Frey family belonged to the elite. As the heir, he often represented his family at social gatherings and formal events.

However, he had always disliked dancing. It wasn’t due to trauma or any emotional reason—he simply found it bothersome.

After all, dancing wasn’t just about moving your feet. It was about creating harmony between two people moving as one.

And finding a suitable partner to achieve that harmony wasn’t easy.

Just as he was lost in thought, the guests began shifting to the sides of the hall—right, left, front, and back—making space for those who wished to dance.

Due to the large number of attendees, Roswell had set a rule: the dance session would be divided into seven shifts, each filled with couples taking their turn on the floor.

This was done to prevent overcrowding and to maintain a comfortable atmosphere.

The heads of noble families, along with their spouses and children, naturally agreed to the arrangement.

One by one, men and women—both young and old—stepped into the center of the room.

The lights in the hall gradually dimmed, leaving only the center bathed in a gentle glow.

Fifteen couples stood in the spotlight, most of them elderly.

A few younger participants were present as well—among them was Allen, standing with a beautiful young lady.

Aldric was there too, beside his fiancée, a noblewoman from the esteemed Marquis Vandelar family.

Before long, the gentle sounds of musical instruments—harps, violins, flutes, and more—began to fill the hall.

At the same time, the couples at the center began to move, their faces glowing with soft smiles.

Their graceful, mesmerizing movements quickly drew the admiration of those watching.

"Tsk! Prince Aldric dances so well. He’s truly impressive."

"Agreed! And his partner matches him perfectly. They look like an ideal couple."

"By the way, doesn’t Viscount Andreas seem a bit stiff? Maybe he hasn’t danced in a while."

"Pfft! That could be it."

Soft whispers and quiet murmurs began to ripple through the crowd as the guests observed the dancers.

For them, dancing wasn’t just a form of entertainment—it was a part of their culture. It was customary for guests to comment on and judge the performances of the dancing couples.

Of course, these judgments weren’t official. Still, the more graceful and elegant one’s movements, the more respect and admiration they would receive.

That was really beautiful, Rafine murmured, her gaze fixed blankly on the couples dancing at the center of the hall.

As the Duke’s daughter and heir to the Eastern Duke’s family, she had naturally learned the art of dance—even to an advanced level.

However, she had never had the opportunity to practice, as dancing required a partner—and unfortunately, she didn’t have one.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t find someone. The truth was, every time she imagined holding a man’s hand, a wave of disgust would rise within her.

After all, dancing involved close physical contact between a man and a woman.

However... Rafine bit her lower lip, stealing a glance at Nolan, who was calmly sipping his juice beside her. With him... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad?

As soon as the thought surfaced, she gasped softly and quickly shook it from her mind.

Her beautiful face turned red as she quickly looked away.

The first session came to an end, greeted by warm applause from the onlookers.

The couples at the center of the hall couldn’t hide their smiles. It had been a long time since they’d danced like this—and it felt genuinely delightful.

Moments later, the second session began. Eager couples who had been waiting their turn stepped into the center, while those who had finished returned to the sides of the room.

"Young Lady Rafine, may I have this dance?"

"No, Young Lady Rafine, don’t choose him—dance with me instead!"

"Are you both blind? Obviously, Young Lady Rafine should be dancing with me!"

Several young nobles suddenly approached, all vying for the chance to dance with Rafine.

They shoved one another, eyes filled with eagerness and hope as they looked at her.

The scene made Rafine uncomfortable. She stepped back and shook her head gently.

"Sorry, I don’t wish to dance with any of you," she said politely but firmly.

As soon as her words landed, the group fell silent, their faces frozen in surprise.

Before any of them could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps came from behind.

"Pfft! Pathetic. Move aside and make way for this prince."

The arrogant voice made their blood boil—but the moment they turned and saw who was approaching, their feet froze in place.

It was Zarak, the fourth prince of the Great Velmora Empire.

In an instant, their anger vanished, replaced by forced, sycophantic smiles.

"Hahaha! Prince, you really know how to joke. How could we possibly ask Young Lady Rafine to dance? Of course, that’s your privilege."

"That’s right! No one else is worthy. Please, go ahead, Your Highness."

They quickly stepped aside, clearing a path for Zarak as he swaggered forward, whispering flattery under his breath.

A flicker of disgust flashed in Rafine’s eyes.

They’re pathetic, she muttered, shaking her head.

Just moments ago, they had fought over the chance to dance with her.

Now, the moment Zarak appeared, they shamelessly groveled.

The thought of any of them becoming her future husband sent a chill down her spine.

Thankfully, that was never going to happen—and that alone was enough to calm her nerves.

Zarak came to a stop in front of her, his eyes burning with desire.

As the most beautiful woman in the Empire, Rafine was flawless.

Her face, her figure—everything about her was perfection.

Wearing a forced, polite smile, Zarak gave a slight bow and extended his hand toward her.

"Good evening, Young Lady Rafine. Would you do me the honor of this dance?" Zarak asked, offering his hand.

Rafine narrowed her eyes, giving him a slow once-over.

She wasn’t the kind of woman who judged a man by his looks, but Zarak’s short, fat body and slanted eyes still made her feel uneasy.

When she didn’t respond right away, Zarak misread the silence.

She’ll say yes. She’s just overwhelmed with happiness, he thought, smiling inwardly.

His appearance might have been plain, but his status was not.

He was a prince, and his grandfather was the head of the Red Obsidian Trading House—one of the Empire’s most powerful merchant guilds.

With credentials like his, Zarak was confident—no noblewoman would dare turn him down.

Even Rafine, he believed, would be no exception.

But her response made his eyes go wide.

"Sorry, Prince Zarak, but I already have a partner."

With that, Rafine stepped back, wrapped her arms around Nolan’s, and gently rested her head against his shoulder.

"Prince Nolan is my partner," she added softly, her cheeks turning pink.

Nolan: "..."

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