Chapter 132: And Driving Lessons

She stayed there for a week.

If Cassian made the best cocktails, Erik was unmatched in combat. During that week, he taught her several new techniques that enriched her growing arsenal.

Her stats had plateaued, but her skills kept improving. Swimming and Poison both reached level five.

She also took the opportunity to write down everything that had happened and fill the gaps in her journals. In doing so, she realized Kiyan had once again been merciful with the truth. Pierre was a monster who treated rape as casually as breathing, targeting men and women alike without distinction.

Sebastian—known as Mircea back then—had turned him for one purpose alone: to expand his empire of torture. Realizing D. had most likely endured that hell as well, Blanche promised herself she would be less harsh toward him.

Then she remembered that, as Queen of the Players, it was her duty to protect her people. She had to become stronger, if only to put Pierre down for good.

She followed her metallurgy journals to the letter and began learning blacksmithing. Meanwhile, Cassie taught her how to drive. Taxis didn't run all night, after all.

The young phoenix handled a steering wheel like no one else.

Blanche had never known Cassie owned an entire collection of sports cars hidden beneath the manor. In fact, she hadn't even known the cellar existed.

What was the point? Cars couldn't pass through mirrors. They remained trapped outside space-time... much to Cassie's delight. They were little more than beautiful machines to admire.

By the end of the week, Blanche finally knew how to drive.

Well enough to get from one place to another.

She was still nowhere near her new friend's level, who could parallel park with absurd ease.

A few days later, Phoenix stopped by to work on his tan and arrived with another suggestion.

"You should learn how to dance too."

"What for?"

"You're attending a charity gala. With a date. Do you really have no idea?"

Blanche turned pale.

"Dance? But... it isn't actually a ball, is it?"

"It's close enough."

Cassian volunteered with a courage that probably deserved a medal.

After clearing away the last glasses and leaving the bar in his sister's care, he pushed a few armchairs aside to make room in the living room, then invited Blanche over with an elegant gesture.

"Relax," he began with a reassuring smile. "Dancing isn't about memorizing steps. It's about feeling."

"Well, that's already going badly," Blanche muttered.

Cassian chuckled softly before taking her hands.

"Let me lead."

In theory...

It was an excellent idea.

In practice...

Blanche possessed all the natural grace of a solid oak wardrobe trying to avoid a wolf trap.

The moment they started, she was already overthinking where to place her next foot, forgetting to breathe, locking her shoulders, stiffening her elbows, and moving with the caution of a soldier crossing a minefield.

Cassian tried correcting her posture.

"Shoulders."

She relaxed them.

"Not completely."

She immediately pulled them back up.

"No... there. Somewhere in between."

She tried again.

Still too stiff.

"Your hips."

Blanche stared at him as though he'd just asked her to solve a quantum physics equation.

"My... hips?"

"They need to move with you."

She tried.

The result looked less like dancing and more like someone suffering from severe lower back pain.

Cassian bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

Phoenix didn't bother.

He burst into uncontrollable laughter the moment he witnessed the disaster.

"All right..."

Cassian started over from the beginning.

More slowly.

Again.

Then again.

With every attempt, Blanche managed a brand-new feat: stepping on her own foot, confusing left and right, forgetting the music entirely, or anticipating a step that didn't even exist.

At one point, Cassian nearly lost his own balance.

"Sorry!"

"It's fine."

"Did I step on you?"

"Barely," he lied.

"You're lying," Blanche accused, her Lie Detection skill practically screaming.

"A little."

She grimaced.

"I'm hopeless."

"No," he replied diplomatically. "You just... learn differently."

"That's a very elegant way of saying I dance like a goblin."

Cassian laughed outright.

"Having actually seen goblins dance... I can assure you they're more flexible."

Blanche shot him an offended look.

"Traitor."

"Realist."

With admirable optimism, he resumed the lesson.

For nearly half an hour, he had her repeat the same three steps.

Three.

Despite all her determination, Blanche continued analyzing every movement instead of feeling it. Her body, trained through fencing, combat, and Derek's relentless lessons, instinctively sought efficiency, stability, and economy of motion.

Dance demanded the exact opposite.

Fluidity.

Lightness.

Surrender.

It was like asking Derek to tell a joke.

Eventually, Cassian let out a long sigh, equal parts amused and resigned.

"I think... I've reached the limits of my teaching abilities."

Blanche lowered her eyes, a little embarrassed.

"I'm sorry..."

He immediately offered her a warm smile.

"You have nothing to apologize for. You're making progress."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

He hesitated.

One second.

Maybe two.

"You step on my feet less often."

"That... wasn't the answer I was hoping for."

"I know."

He thought for a moment before his eyes suddenly lit up.

"Wait..."

A mischievous grin spread across his face.

"I know someone much better than me."

Blanche sighed.

"Please... not D."

Cassian burst out laughing.

"No."

He paused dramatically.

"Much worse."

She went pale.

"There's someone worse than Erik?"

"For dancing?"

He shook his head, still smiling.

"Saphir."

Blanche blinked.

"My Companion?"

"The very one."

"He dances?"

Cassian looked at her with mock outrage.

"Blanche... Saphir doesn't dance."

He paused for theatrical effect.

"He flies."

And judging by the defeated expression on the young woman's face, he was already looking forward to witnessing the spectacle.

If only he could be there to see it.

Resigned, she prepared to leave, though not before asking Phoenix to pick her up by car.

"Mine's in the shop, but I'll borrow your father's. You'll have to wait for me at Kiyan's. Time is frozen here. I can't teleport with a car."

Logical enough.

After saying goodbye to the twins, she returned to her childhood home. A sudden craving led her to open the refrigerator.

Half a homemade strawberry shortcake remained.

Half an hour later, it had vanished—damning evidence that she'd been there.

But really...

How was anyone supposed to resist?

She stepped outside.

Phoenix pulled up in a black station wagon.

He didn't even have time to park before he found himself sliding into the passenger seat.

Blanche was determined to put her brand-new driving lessons into practice.

"Let's hope you don't drive as badly as you dance," the demon teased.

He regretted those words only seconds later.

Blanche accelerated enthusiastically, taking full advantage of the empty nighttime roads to push the engine harder and harder.

Phoenix had no idea how they managed to reach their destination without being pulled over.

At least...

She'd driven in a perfectly straight line.