"Would you grant me the honor of this dance, Your Majesty?"

Despite his respectful words, a tone of annoyance was evident in his voice. His furrowed brow and uncomfortable posture betrayed Damian's reluctance to be there, let alone to dance. However, his brothers had pushed him to try to be polite and respectful to the princess. After all, who wouldn't want a good relationship with the princess? Damian didn't. He didn't want to be there, and it's not that he hated you or anything; he just didn't like banquets, didn't like pretending to be courteous to people who were rude behind his back, namely the nobles, most of them.

You accepted only because you didn't want to be rude, but you certainly didn't want to. Dealing with a fake smile and empty words was challenging enough without having to endure the disgusted looks from this guy.

Damian tried to find a conversation topic, but it didn't come to him. He didn't know how to socialize. What do you talk about with someone you're dancing with? Do you even talk? Oh, damn, Damian didn't really know how to socialize well.